#so sad warts for a very sad man

[eternallog]

however far away

I will always love you

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Final Word Count: 22.6k

Author's Note: Ta-da! I put a lot of work into this last chapter, like actually becoming the president for a couple hours, but I really wanted to make it worth everyone's time for sticking around and reading all the way through.

Thank you so much for following along! All the sweet comments from you guys never fails to make my day!

^//v//^

Cross posted on AO3

The Reveal

Almost three months.

It took almost three months for Leon's portrait to fully dry after it had been varnished. You'd checked it almost daily after the two month mark due to Leon's constant pestering. He was understandably antsy, and admittedly, you were too.

There was a lot of convincing involved, but you managed to keep the man at home while you transported the painting to the White House. He worried it would be damaged en-route. Such a little worry wart.

Setting up the painting's respective spot a column away from Chris and Claire's seemed very appropriate; tall, fake bushes sitting on either side of where it would be placed, a warm yellow bulb lighting up the inside of the decorative archway, and the patterned golden frame where the canvas would forever be now hung empty in that portrait hallway, waiting to be pieced together and completed.

The shiny gold placard had already been screwed onto the frame, words zapped on it via laser:

Leon S. Kennedy

USSTRATCOM Agent from 1998 - 2011

D.S.O. Agent from 2011 - 2017

You knew how long he'd been working as an agent, but it was still baffling nonetheless. Nearly 20 years of non-stop intense and usually very traumatizing work, what a feat.

Moving on, you'd worked out the plans for Leon's farewell party with the President and a few coordinators over the span of a few days, making sure to store the painting in a secure room for the time being. It was to stay covered with a violet piece of velvet cloth up until the reveal at the party, no one was allowed to see it besides you, the President, and the various security guards working the grounds.

After another two extra months of waiting, the farewell party was drawing near. There had to be enough time given for invitations to be sent out to people, wait for said people to RSVP, and allow travel time. And at this point, Leon was busting at the seams; extremely nervous, excited, and even a little scared at the prospect of it all.

Your words from that second painting session all those months ago never left his mind: "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

The man clung to that, doing his best to internalize it and mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He was hoping you were exaggerating, but from what Chris, Claire, and even Jill have told him about their experience after the fact, he knew deep down that you'd seen it all too well before.

What Leon failed to realize was that he wasn't alone anymore. Sure he had his friends to help, but he'd never had someone to come home to everyday.

During the last few sessions, he had asked to stay with you at your apartment, citing the potential aftermath of the party as reasoning. However, you really didn't need him to explain his reasoning, you would've let him. Even if he just felt like it, you would've welcomed him with opened arms.

Besides, he'd already been staying at your place for longer periods of time over the months. You'd visited his house a few times, but he made sure to whine and complain about how bare and boring it was. If you remember correctly, Leon had said, word for word, that your apartment "felt like a warm hug". With that, he shelled up with you in only a couple weeks before the painting had dried. He made special effort to learn your routine, wanting to give you the space that you needed while also maximizing his time spent with you.

Leon was an actual angel, you were wholeheartedly convinced. Some days you would come home after working on another painting to the man cooking dinner, having bought an expensive wine to share with you. When your hands would start to ache and your back and shoulders were sore from the long hours spent holding a paintbrush in an awkward hunched position, he would set aside anything he had going on just to give you all the massages, kisses, and love that you could ever want.

Nothing was ignored when it came to you and your wants and needs. Leon admitted awhile back that he felt guilty for intruding on your space, though you were very quick to shut that down. He was far from a burden, actually lining up more with a dream come true.

And just like he did with you, you spared nothing while getting to know the in's and out's of the man that occupied your mind, heart, and home. You learned his favorite meals, watched his favorite shows and movies with him, returning the massages when he would return from the gym, and paid extra attention to how he liked to be held at night. Who would've guessed that the Leon Kennedy loved to be the little spoon?

What you spent the most time on was making sure to listen when he suddenly went on tangents about his past. They really did haunt him. You would wake up in the middle of the night to him huddled at the top of the bed, arms wrapped around his legs and head between his knees as he did his best to cry quietly. All you could do for him in those moments was pull him against your chest, gently rocking him back and forth while whispering sweet nothings, just until he felt either ready to talk or ready to fall back asleep. If he just wanted more comfort, then that's what he got, obviously.

He was only recently put on a couple medications to help him better manage his PTSD and anxiety since he really had to cut back on the alcohol in order to take them the way he needed. Definitely worth it to both you and him seeing as his nightmares lessened in intensity and frequency.

Now here you were, straightening out Leon's tie for him since his hands were failing him, nerves getting the better of him. He had taken his meds a few minutes ago, wanting to have the full effect during the party to combat any destructive behaviors during it, so it was no wonder his hands were still trembling.

"You're going to do so well, Leon." You smiled, giving him a gentle pat between his pecs after tucking his tie into his suit jacket. He was staring straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he stared at himself in the mirror. "You've made so much progress and I couldn't be any prouder."

He licked his dry lips before slowly looking down at you, giving you the best smile he could, which was really just him pulling his lips back tight. If it weren't for you constantly being around to encourage him and push him to get better, he would not be able to attend his own farewell party.

How had he managed to get so far without this level of love and care? Where would he even be without you? Hopefully later when his mind isn't racing a million miles per minute, Leon will be able to tell you just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Leon watched you in the mirror as you walked around to stand behind him, straightening out his suit jacket in random spots until deciding to just wrap your arms around his midriff, pressing the side of your face against his back with a content sigh. He brought his still-trembling hands up to hold onto your arms, rubbing his thumbs up and down across your soft skin.

His eyes settled back on his own face after staring at your arms linked around him, letting out a shaky sigh of his own as he attempted to just focus on this moment. You were perfect, ethereal, a true work of art. He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

It took some time, about an hour, before Leon's medication was starting to kick in. You were definitely a big help, he couldn't give all the credit to his meds.

His relaxed demeanor wasn't easy to spot, the man was just naturally rigid, but you waited until he let you know that he was ready; ready to go to his farewell party, ready to see the portrait you painted for him, ready to put in the effort into accepting the next chapter in his life.

The drive to the White House was seamless, having been picked up in a blacked out SUV that held four personal guards, courtesy of the President. Leon wasn't going to complain, he actually kind of liked the pampering effect that came with being driven around by a dedicated entourage.

Almost all good feelings were drained from Leon when the car finally pulled up to the front of the White House where more guards stood waiting to escort the two of you inside. It was still early in the night, but the sun had set long ago, making for quite the beautiful atmosphere.

He could see numerous party attendees walking up the stairs, dressed up in their fanciest outfits for him. He held your hand the entire way up the stairs and into the entrance hall with a grip that was sure to leave your hand hurting. No matter, you could tell he needed you. That vice grip he had was well worth it for his comfort.

There were quite a few more people than either you or Leon expected. It seems as if all available agents, young, old, and retired, had been sent an invitation for tonight, along with quite a few high-ranking government workers. Luckily, this was a private event; no reporters, no news, only those who had been fortunate enough to be invited.

The first to spot you two was Chris who quickly made his way over to pull Leon into a bone-crushing hug, giving him a few solid pats on the back before letting go. Leon only reciprocated the hug with one hand, the other refusing to let go of yours, though his grip had loosened by now.

"Where's Claire?" Leon muttered, leaning to the side to scan over the sizeable crowd. "She's.." Chris turned around to also scan the crowd, squinting a bit as he looked. "She's somewhere. My wife is with her, her family, and Jill."

Leon pursed his lips with a curt nod, humming quietly in acknowledgement before standing straight again. He glanced down at where his hand held yours, squeezing it again for just a second as if to remind himself that you haven't gone anywhere.

Chris had turned back around to see the small gesture Leon gave to you, a coy smirk on his face. "What uhh... what's all this, huh?" He subtly pointed between you and the other man, voice lowered.

Leon cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear despite the volume in the hall. "... M'gonna save that for the-.. the speech." Chris just nodded, crossing his arms before slowly turning to look through the crowd again. "Alright, well, let me go find the family and bring them over before you're swarmed." And with that, Chris made his way back into the crowd.

Unfortunately, Leon had been spotted by the rest of the partygoers before Chris could return with everyone. Many pleasantries were repeated while also returning small talk with the people he recognized, which was a lot. You managed to avoid most of it, only being questioned a few times due to the rather obvious hold the man had on you. Despite having attended the last few parties like this, most people unable to recognize you as the artist. A blessing and a curse.

The next couple hours were spent eating finger foods, conversing with whoever, and enjoying the way Leon started to flow with the event. He soon found his way to Chris, Claire, their partners and kids, and Jill which really helped him loosen up. He needed the more familiar faces, having now let go of your hand fully to talk more animatedly with them. You made sure to stick by his side as long as you could, letting out a soft laugh every time you noticed his quick glances over to you to check if you're still there.

The time eventually did come for you to part with Leon, signaling a couple guards to follow you down a few hallways until reaching the room where the portrait sat, still covered with the violet cloth. The decision to keep it back here for so long was made by the President, wanting less of a sudden reveal and more of a build up.

Normally it would already be hanging in the entrance hall, covered and ready to be revealed, but not wanting to risk any potential damage, you were asked to hold off bringing it in until the President was ready to give the speech leading up to Leon's.

It'd been set in the golden frame rather quickly with the help from one of the guards that walked down with you. You had the guard to hold it up for you so you could give it one final good look before he was instructed to lead you back. After recovering, you took the portrait in both hands, holding it close as you were escorted back through the halls and into the main entrance hall.

By now everyone had directed their focus closer to the center of the back wall. Next to where the President stood, your own art easel was now set up. That was mostly as homage to you and it wasn't like anyone besides you would understand that it's yours, though Leon did pick up on that little feature. He'd been staring at the back of that thing for months, counted the various old streaks of paint on the pale wood over and over.

It made his farewell all the more personal, struggling to mask the feeling of the ever-growing pit in his stomach from the friends he was still standing next to.

The sound of a mic being tapped drew everyone's attention in to the President, the volume in the hall quieting to a whisper, soon completely silent as he began to speak into the mic;

"Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you to honor and pay tribute to a true hero, a dedicated public servant, and a loyal friend who has served our nation with unwavering dedication for the past 19 years. It is with great respect and admiration that I address you on this occasion, as we bid farewell to a remarkable agent who has exemplified the very best qualities of service and sacrifice." As the President spoke, Leon held his breath, hands gripping onto his suit jacket to keep from trembling again.

At this point, you'd silently walked along the side with the guards from before, bringing the covered portrait up to the front before carefully placing it on your easel. "Throughout this nation's history, these agents have played an essential role in ensuring the safety and security of our nation's people and have consistently placed their lives on the line to protect the sanctity of our democracy. And today, we acknowledge one agent who has done so with unparalleled devotion."

"This retiring agent has been a silent sentinel, ensuring the continuity of our democratic ideals. Through countless hours of training, vigilance, and selflessness, they have demonstrated a level of commitment that is nothing short of extraordinary. But beyond their exceptional professional duties, this agent has been a friend and a confidant to those of us privileged to work alongside them. They have been a source of strength, a steady hand in turbulent times, and a symbol of the unbreakable bond that can form within the ranks of those who dedicate their lives to service."

You positioned yourself opposite of the President, placing your hands behind your back to keep your posture tall as you now smiled at the crowd, subtly scanning for Leon. His eyes were already on you when you found him, and your smile only widened further.

It prompted his own nervous smile, toying with the buttons on his jacket while turning his attention back to the President, wanting to remain respectful to his, honestly, very flattering speech so far. You followed Leon's eyes, seemingly having the same idea to just watch and listen.

"The sacrifices made by our agents often go unnoticed by the public, and that is by design. Their commitment to duty is matched only by their humility. But today, we pause to recognize and celebrate this retiring agent's dedication, valor, and sacrifice." The President continued to address the attendees in the room, giving you a quick nod before returning his focus to everyone in the entrance hall.

The President outstretched his hand towards Leon standing in the crowd, now staring at him with a prideful yet relaxed look. "To Mr. Leon S. Kennedy, our retiring agent and loyal friend, thank you for your 19 years of dedicated service to our nation. May your retirement be filled with the peace and contentment that you so richly deserve. You leave behind a legacy of honor and courage that will never be forgotten." The crowd of attendees clapped and cheered briefly, causing Leon to reach his hand up to wipe across his face. A poor way to hide his red face. He's done that before, hasn't he?

Once the crowd quieted back down, the President finished his speech with a classic, "May God bless you, your family, and may God continue to bless the United States of America. Thank you" before the crowd picked back up cheering and clapping. You clapped along with them, laughing at Leon's flustered expression. He could barely hold back his smile, not really have expecting to be so well recognized for his service.

Leon's queue to make his way to the front was when the President walked over to stand next to you, making sure not to block the covered portrait from anyone's view. He'd recited this speech to you countless times, even more to himself when he was alone, but all those eyes staring at him were causing him to fumble. He messed around with the mic once he was standing in front of it, and that was your queue to walk over and stand next to him, placing a loving hand on his forearm.

That's all he needed, just a little extra encouragement from the person he relied on the most. His speech was short and straight to the point, never having been a man of professional word, yet he still managed to slip in some words of praise for you and all the help you provided him during his rough patch earlier in the year.

Neither you or Leon had outright said it to each other, let alone to anyone else, but hearing him announce to the entire hall of people that you were his girlfriend made your heart soar. Speaking about you calmed his nerves, and he wanted everyone to know just how lucky he felt, like he'd hoped for earlier.

He bent over slightly to whisper in your ear, covering the mic with his hand to make sure it didn't pick up his voice. "Now, why don't you go ahead and show us all that masterpiece you spent months working on?" Oh, now you were the flustered one, giggling nervously as you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before walking over to where the painting sat on the easel.

"Ladies and gentleman," Leon's eyes followed you as he straightened his posture out, speaking into the mic once more with a wide smile gracing his features, "I'm honored to have the wonderful artist herself present my very own portrait to you." As he spoke, you carefully lifted the cloth from where it was draped over the painting, finally revealing the ever-awaited portrait to everyone.

Just like with Chris and Claire's, Leon was sat in that soft maroon chair, slightly off center, but his position was different with his right ankle rested atop his left knee, elbows on the arms of the chair while his hands rested in his lap, fingers interlaced. His smile was soft and partially crooked while he looked forward with relaxed eyes, a few strands of hair painted to sit in front of his brow. And to tie it all together, it had a lovely green background, a dark forest green as the base while a sage green was used to add texture. The vintage look had always been your favorite, and Leon fit it so perfectly. He was nearly timeless.

Many "ooo's" and "ahh's" were heard amongst the clapping from the crowd, along with a handshake from the President. Before you could turn to face Leon, you felt his arms slowly slink around you from underneath your arms, the weight of his head now pressing down on your shoulder. You could feel his grin when he tilted his head to kiss your jawline, beginning to gently rock you side to side. Getting to show off your work was always so rewarding, but just knowing Leon was handling everything so well was a feeling you'll truly never forget.

He was happy. That's all you ever wanted for him. The man has truly earned his portrait in that agent hall of fame.

The portrait was soon brought down to the aforementioned hall to be hung up and displayed for good, a few small groups trailing down to get a better look at it. Chris was the noisiest about it, telling Leon it looked like it belonged above a grand fireplace, to which said man agreed with.

Chris, Claire, Jill, and their respective families stared at it for quite some time alongside Leon and you. They all chatted while Leon stared quietly, taking in every little fine detail you'd added. You changed his position some, and did he really smile at you like that? He really did look lovestruck. Of course only he could tell that. Hopefully.

He surprised himself with how okay he felt after seeing the painting. You warned him multiple times that it would most likely be overwhelming and emotional, and while it was, it wasn't in a bad way. The most compelling thought he had right now was to just sweep you off your feet and smother you with love.

Leon asked one of the guards to take a picture of him with everyone, including you, in front of his portrait. Then, just a picture of you and him standing in front of it, easily becoming the background on his phone.

The party went on for only an hour or so more before people started to trickle out. You and Leon were some of the first to leave, saying all your thanks and goodbye's with hugs and handshakes.

The moment the two of you walked into your apartment he practically pounced on you before the door had shut, large hands gripping tight on your hips as he sloppily made out with you. He just had to show his gratitude for all your hard work.

Your lips tasted so sweet and your soft little moans were driving him wild, he couldn't help the groan that rumbled from his chest. Full blown sex had been held off by you, not wanting to rush him into anything while you helped him manage his problems. Honestly, he was glad you'd held off on him, because now that he was feeling like his own person again, it made waiting all the more fulfilling.

Leon hoisted you up into his arms after you'd kicked your heels off, holding onto the back of your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling against his lips as he carefully navigated around the short hallway and into the bedroom.

You looked so good splayed out on the bed for him, that beautiful dress you chose was insanely flattering on you. It had to go though, so after yanking off his jacket he made quick work of your dress, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before pulling it up and over your head. Your bra and panties didn't last either. He'd only gotten to see you naked a couple times before, but god, he'll never get tired of seeing you this way, acting all shy like you weren't his favorite view.

Leon was so eager to get his hands on you that he neglected to take off his suit, opting instead to hover over you and bury his face into your neck. He wasn't a good artist, but he loved to cover your neck in shades of red and purple like you were his own little painting, akin to leaving his signature all over you.

He only pulled away once you tugged on his hair, listening to your begs and pleas for him to get his clothes off. As much as he wanted to prolong this night and tease you, he couldn't hold himself back. He needed to feel your soft skin against his.

"So perfect." Leon mumbled against your skin, licking and kissing his way up your stomach and to your breasts after practically ripping off his clothes. His hands found their way back to your hips, pressing them firm against the bed to keep you from squirming away as he nipped at one of your nipples, pulling it into his mouth.

He moaned as he sucked and circled his tongue around your nipple, his eyes falling closed. The other couldn't stay neglected, so he brought one hand up to pinch and tug at your other nipple, sighing when he felt your body press against his as you arched at the sensation. He loved when your moans would pitch, so cute.

His cock was pressed against the inside of your thigh, rutting against it when you would tug at his hair. Once he decided your nipples had enough attention, he sat up and grabbed the backs of your knees to place around his waist. The new position offered Leon the perfect opportunity to drag his leaking cock through your folds, pressing it down with his thumb so the tip would nudge your clit with every slow thrust forward.

You were so wet, so delicate. He could've fucked you right then, slid right into that juicy little pussy, but he needed to take care of you first. He would never forgive himself if he hurt you.

Reluctantly, the man pulled his dick away from you, letting out a poorly concealed whine at the loss. He ran his hands up your thighs before moving one hand so he could circle your clit with his thumb, the other hand back on your hip to keep you steady.

"L-eon~!" You brokenly moaned out, pleading to him with your watery eyes. You needed more; his fingers, his cock, anything. He couldn't say no to that, stopping his assault on your clit to drag his middle and ring finger through your drenched folds to wet them properly. He brought your right leg to sit over his shoulder, hand gripping the top of your thigh as he leaned forward, studying your face closely as he gently teased the outside of your slit with his middle finger.

He moaned with you as he slid his finger in, keeping his eyes trained on you as he started to tentatively thrust his finger in and out. "Yeah?" Leon whispered, licking his lips as you barely managed to nod. "Yeeeaah, there's my girl..." The rumble in his voice was music to your ears.

His ring finger was soon slid in next to his middle finger, switching between scissoring you and making a partial 'come here' motion with them. After only a couple minutes you were leaking all over his hand and the bed, the wet sounds of your pussy mixed with your moans making his cock jerk and drip with precum. Leon clenched his teeth as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, immediately bringing them to his mouth to suck off your juices. He let out an audible sigh after swallowing, repositioning his dick to slide through your folds a couple more times before nudging your hole with the tip.

"Look at me, baby..." Leon's hushed demand brought you to open your eyes, if only half way. He made eye contact with you before leaning forward further to kiss you, all the while finally pushing into you. He soaked in your gasp, his eyebrows furrowing as you tensed up. "Relax.. let me in~..."

"It's only me.." He panted, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes shut again. "It's only me, baby..." he repeated this a few more times as he eased his cock inside of you, the stretch only stinging for a moment before it turned to pleasure. He filled you perfectly, you could feel every bit of him, especially with his right hand adding a bit of pressure to your stomach.

Leon sat still for a minute to give you time to adjust, taking the way you moved your hips as a sign to move. He pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slowly thrusting back in. He managed to choke out a quiet "Fuck-.." when you clenched around him. "Taking me so well.. such a big girl~.."

He always knew just how to talk to you, making sure to take his time buttering you up. You were putty in his hands, and between his words and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside of you, you could barely think.

It didn't take long for him to start to lose his composure, the sound of wet skin slapping together filling the room as his thrusts intensified. "All mine. All for me." The grip he had on your thigh was sure to leave a bruise, but that was the last thing on your mind.

The hand he had pressing on your stomach moved further down so he could circle your clit with his thumb again, jaw tight as he looked from your blissed out expression to where his hand was playing with you. "Oh fuck! That's it!" Leon growled, eyes glued to your cunt as he plunged in and out of it. "Cream this dick, mamas~... Cum on my cock so I can fill this pretty pussy up.."

The way you gasped and moaned when you came was enough to warrant a noise complaint, but screw your neighbors. You needed this just as much Leon did.

"Oohhh fuck yeah.. Milk me, baby~... shit-" Leon's thrusts stuttered to a stop while pressed flush against you, abs flexing as he pumped ropes of cum into you. Once you managed to open your eyes, all you could do was stare at the man, flushed pink and sweaty, sitting between your legs. Both of you moaned in tandem as he pulled out, Leon groaning to himself as he watched his cum drip from your pussy. Truly a work of art meant for his eyes only.

He leaned over you again to plant a quick kiss on your lips, chuckling when he felt you smile. "Let me go grab something to clean you up, okay?" You could only nod in response, reaching your hand up to caress the side of his face before he stood up from the bed. He walked across the hall into the bathroom, wetting a soft rag with warm water before making his way back over to you.

Leon made sure to be gentle when cleaning you, the warmth from the rag soothing your tender skin. You were able to sit up on your elbows and watch him, using his gentle touches as a way to calm your still racing heart.

After wiping himself off with the rag, he tossed it over in the general direction of your laundry basket. It was a problem for later. Right now, he wanted lay back on the bed and pull you up so you could lay on top of him. Along with just how nice it felt to hold you, he loved the weight of you on him. So that's what he did, pulling you onto him after laying on the bed, running his fingers though your hair on the back of your head.

"Leon." You muttered against his collarbone. His eyebrows raised, yet his eyes were closed. "Mm?" His right eye peaked open when he felt you giggle. "What?"

"I love you." His fingers paused their ministrations at your words. You lifted your head up to look at him, growing worried with his shocked expression. "Sorry, is that too-" you choked on your words, stopped mid-sentence by Leon's arms suddenly squeezing the breath out of you with a very tight hug. He pulled you up just a little further so he could smush his lips against yours.

"I love you too!" He breathed out excitedly. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to tell you!" You tapped his arm and he immediately relaxed his grip, mumbling a small, "Sorry, my bad.." when you took in a deep breath.

"You're adorable, Leon." You shook your head with a smile, brushing the hair from his face to give him a much gentler kiss before settling you head back against his chest with a quiet sigh.

Leon was still a tough man, but you made him soft. Only ever soft for you.

Side note: I totally forgot to add in the pussy eating i am so sorry. i thought i did but it was literally just a thought that never manifested 😭

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @mi-zer-y @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason)

[howtosingit]

The silver lining to all the fandom bullshit, for me, is that I came out of 4x03 loving both TK and Carlos a whole helluva lot more than I ever have... and also seeing the ways, across 4x01 to 4x03, that they love so fiercely - both each other and others - with their whole fucking hearts... and knowing that loving that hard, that intensely, means that it’s never perfect because it’s so easy for emotions to make things messy and complicated when it consumes you like that... but I’ve always said that I could go through any angst with these two as long as the love is still there... and oh boy is it still there. 

I just really fucking love them both, warts and all.

[More under the cut because I have too many thoughts:]

I've analyzed both of their behaviors and I fully get them and appreciate them. I think what it boils down to is that they just have different priorities in 4x03 that aren't fully working in tandem at the moment and it's causing some tension... but it's actually really good tension because what couple has the same exact priorities every damn moment of their lives?? What are they, clones??

And if I'm thinking of only TK's emotions then I'm upset by Carlos's distance for sure... but I also think TK is a lot more than just upset. He's also feeling guilty (and he was before Carlos even knew about the visit, so that guilt was all his, Carlos did not put that on him initially) and concerned for Carlos because he's seeing Carlos behave erratically and that's new for him. Like, TK sees this change in Carlos and he is scared of it because he knows how far Carlos is willing to go for the people he loves, he’s seen Carlos do that for him before. He knows. So, I am reading TK's reactions as a lot more nuanced than just sad/upset - the man is feeling a lot... GIVE HIM A HUG PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

And as far as Carlos... our tragic, compartmentalizing Carlos... when Iris goes missing he pushes so much down just to focus on her - on finding her, on protecting her, on supporting her. He and TK have one argument and he does his best to not lash out... he buries it and shifts his focus. Full-on focus on finding Iris, finding answers. He gets right to work, he’s in detective/cop mode, just like Ronen said. And we know he has his own guilt driving him towards that, especially since he thinks that maybe coming back into her life like this, with the divorce and with TK, has fucked up her stability. He remains super focused on the s*x doll call because when he comes into the call it is literally in response to the missing person alert - unlike the 126, this call is tied to Iris from minute one for him... and then when he has Iris back he's still just focused on her because she is not doing well. But he's not ignoring TK completely this entire episode as I've seen so many people claim... he literally calls TK to give an update about Iris... he's concerned about Iris and he chooses to talk to TK about it... about whether or not he can believe her like he wants to when all the evidence says he shouldn't. It's the trusting his gut thing all over again... but this time it's trusting his gut to trust Iris... but he still calls TK to talk through that. And it’s not so that he can further blame TK for it either - that blame and guilt is still very much coming from TK himself, and if Carlos is doing anything wrong here it’s that he’s not reassuring TK that he’s blameless... and, like, I get that? Because Carlos also isn’t feeling blameless so maybe he’s thinking it’s both of their faults, that they did this to her. (Not correct, not rational, but understandable, at least to me.)

And then the final call that he makes... I love that the scene starts with his attention on the house... he clearly wants to go right in and get to work... but he pauses and calls TK... and sure he lies to him but that's because he's doing something he knows he shouldn't and he doesn't want to be convinced not to... which is understandable, too, I think. He would’ve lied to anyone in that moment. But he also doesn't want TK to worry when he doesn't come home so he calls and at least gives him a little bit of relief... and yes it's a lie but like... we knew Carlos was gonna be irrational this episode... he doesn't ALWAYS do the right thing. So it's a lie but it at least it gives him time to do what he wants to do AND it - in his mind, though he is wrong - will help settle TK worries.

I don't know... I'm just not mad about all of this. I actually think 4x03 was an incredibly strong episode (the Carlos plot only though). I mean those scenes with Iris... y'all I'm still losing my mind over them. Their friendship is so beautiful and you can clearly see how they were each other’s whole world at one point in time. I love seeing a Carlos that breaks the rules and does the wrong thing because my god I don't know a single person who doesn't fuck up every once in awhile... but he does it out of LOVE, he does it out of his NEED to help, to protect, to be there for the people he loves. Like, how the fuck am I supposed to hate him for that? (Spoiler alert: I’m not gonna and you can’t make me.)

I think if you’re THAT mad at Carlos, it’s because you’re not even trying to understand him in all of this... you’re seeing the POV that the show is giving us (which for the Tarlos of all of this is clearly TK, that’s why we got the talk with Tommy) and you’re not even trying to analyze the rest of the story. And, like, I’m not here to tell you you have to, but I think you’d find this a lot more enjoyable if you at least tried to see where all the characters are coming from. And you might still be frustrated with Carlos - he’s frustrating, hallelujah! - but you’d also realize he’s not the fucking devil. He’s just an imperfect man with a too-big heart stuck between a rock (tunnel) and a hard place (a shovel). And I’m so excited to see the LOVE that he and TK have for each other SAVE him (and them). IT’S. STILL. ALL. ABOUT. THEIR. LOVE.

Anyway... bring on 4x04, I’m so fucking READY.

[itsbaconbits]

Some sketch studies with the TNT Twins! Can you tell I’m obsessed? No? That’s alright, you’ll learn.

This is really fun pose practice, and like uh… consistency for the design. If that makes sense. Idk

And lots of Donnie interactions because Donnie is baby and my favorite so he will just be anywhere and everywhere and ya'll just have to deal with it.

Some additional information under the cut if you’re interested! Lots of it is just random train of thought about the characters, so bear with me, haha.

More on Raphael:

Raphael’s mode of invention is typically in mechanics. He really enjoys woodworking and metalworking. Definitely lives the "duct-tape can fix anything" lifestyle. Has a ‘workshop’ instead of a lab. Builds and crafts a lot of destructive things, but he also enjoys making gifts for his brothers. Only when he sees the need for it- and never when asked to. Knows some tech/coding for the bare basics of it, as it relates to mechanical engineering. But doesn’t enjoy the computer stuff as much as he likes the hands-on work part. Also has knowledge of some 3D modeling programs, which he and Donnie bond over 3D forms.

Raph is still very energetic, passionate, and easily angered. Definitely the most sporty out of the four of them. He also loves motorcycles (of course), and is working on his own custom bike. Other projects he is working on include: shield for Donnie’s back, ‘artillery camera’ (he refuses to expand on the meaning of this), lair defense mechanisms/traps, and a custom gaming controller for Leo. All in various stages. It’s hard for him to focus on only one thing at a time. And he enjoys tearing things apart almost more than putting them together, which often causes problems. 

Keeps his Sai on hand and finds them useful for tearing things apart when ‘on the job’. Although he has been reprimanded for doing so. Might also be working on a Swiss-army knife of sorts but with Kunai and Sai. Still a work in progress. If given the opportunity, he will drop the Sai and simply go ham with his fists.

Aside from his personality, I also just want to point out that the edge of his shell is meant to represent a cog-wheel. Because of the type of materials he works with. And I think it's clever. Raph's design is probably my favorite out of the four, which is saying a lot. Because I love all of them. But I'm just really super happy with how Raph's design came out, and like... how well it fits this character. It just turned out better than I could have imagined it. One of those magical moments, you know?

More on Michelangelo:

Mikey is a huge fan of skateboarding, but that’s as sporty as he gets really. Also a huge animal fan. He’s always finding stray creatures to bring home and nurse back to health. He is also a huge prankster, in the best and worst ways. Likes to keep his family guessing. Acts all secretive on purpose just to confuse and or piss people off (Most specifically, Leo). Psychological warfare is the name of the game for Mikey.

He likes throwing tags around the city, but he only really has his own signature perfected. He wouldn’t call himself an artist. He just learns the basics of things to get done what he wants to do. If he did delve into art, he would probably stick with paints and spray. Loves food and eating, although his brothers would say he has terrible taste. (Think shaggy vibes.)

This kid would literally do anything for his brothers. He pretends not to notice, but he can pick up on vibes pretty well. Knows when others are lying, sad, happy, etc. Which is part of what makes him a great leader. He uses those skills to his advantage to persuade people- a true face man. Nothing really gets under his skin but he is insecure about ONE thing: the markings on the back of his head. Which look like eyes or huge warts. Always wears his mask to cover them. Or a beanie if his mask isn’t available. Often finds funny/silly ways to cover his head if in a scenario without his hats. He’s pretty desperate to keep it hidden.

Mikey still uses the Nunchaku as his favored weapon. He is fast on his feet, but very loosey-goosey with everything. It makes his moves extremely hard to predict, which he likes. And, despite his casual demeanor, he has spent a lot of focus and dedication to the craft. So he’s really proud of his skill. Plus, it’s fun to confuse and startle people when he pulls them out and pretends like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

On Mikey's design, I am in love with the colors. Covering up the spots on his head was very intentional, but it really is kind of a shame. Because I love how the green spots pop. But I used that same green for Donnie's design to keep things cohesive. I really love the pattern for male Baele Four-Eyed turtles. A sick lil' guy, really.

More on the TNT Twins:

I want to make a separate post for their dynamic specifically, since I don't have my ideas drawn out just yet. But my immediately thoughts where "Dan and Arin from GameGrumps". So you can expect that the next post about these two will reference that. Obviously Mikey embodies Dan and Raph embodies Arin. It's going to be fantastic.

[apple--white]

Empires Magical Girl Au: The side characters or as I like to call them; Cleo, Stress & The Boys

I should say that this story is focused on the girls so I'm going to be keeping the boys pretty minimal in this story. Or at least I they aren't becoming magical girls. I know sad but I want to focus on the lady's they deserve to have a super hero story focused on them.

Cleo: I'm thinking she knows of the girls secret, or at least some of them, and hates it. She is quite protective of her friends. So when one of her best friends are roped into the quiet dangerous occupation of heroism, let's just say she isn't the happiest. Especially when more started joining.

Stress: She might be around the girls just as much as Cleo, but in her case she is completely clueless to there after school activities. Though she is very supportive and even though she doesn't know what's happening she trusts her friends.

The Boys -

Scott: Our resident "friend" of everyone. He's kind to everyone but only the people he truly cares about he considers a true friend. I also took slight inspiration from reality and made him a big fan of the girls, to emulate his love of DND. In fact I would consider him their #1 fan.

Oli: Our resident bard is quite eccentric and our show runner of our b plot! The director of the school play, a job no one knows how he got, drags his assistant director around as much as he can. Who might his assistant director be, well Shelby of course... Yeah Shelby doesn't know why either. Though Oli says he couldn't think of anyone else to be his assistant director.

Jimmy: Lizzy's little half brother! Im thinking he is quite a worry wart over his sister. Especially when he's the one covering for the girls during school hours as the schools hall monitor. Due to their relationship though he doesn't feel it's his place to ask her about it, but that doesn't mean he's not going to try to not find out what's going on.

Fwhip: Gems twin brother, and Sausage's best friend. He too is another worry wart. He's the resident fixer, doesn't matter what it is if its broken he could fix it. So it's a little worrying that he's had to fix up one or two of the girls a few times. It's expressly worrying when it seems they like to go to him first before an adult or the hospital.

Sausage: Pearl's cousin and Fwhip's best friend. Sausage is another resident worry wart though he is more outwardly spoken about his concern. Though he is quick to put a smile on and pretend everythings okay whenever they ask him to stop pressing the matter. So he throws his stressed energy into one other responsibilities. Wether it's taking care of bubbles or one of his many art projects.

Joel: The trusting worried wart. He's Lizzy's best friend, though we know that will change in the future. Joel just wants what's best for her and if she wants to keep secrets he's not going to press her about it. So he focuses on his art projects as well and waits to be a shoulder of support when she needs.

Joey: Look I love Joey and all but I can't see him ever falling for a chick, so I'm deciding right here right now that Katherine was his girlfriend before he knew he was gay. So now their just best friends and happy to help each other out when the other one asks. He is not a worry wart like most of the other boys because he knows Katherine and knows she can take care of herself. So he keeps going as if nothing's wrong.

Pix: The resident lore man! Pix is an aspirin journalist so when a group of super heroes just appeared one day he's not going to let this opportunity go to waist. He starts a blog about them and it quickly becomes most peoples main source of information on the girls and the villains. He is also the one who named each of the girls... That sounds weird, he's the one who gave them their super heroe names.

And that's Zombie, Stress and The Boys! I have a few more things about them but they would be more for a deep dive like post. Anyway next is the villains! Or possibly where the girls get their powers from... Hmm well see.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Would it help you feel more motivated to write a short story to hear that I am a huge fan of your fanfic? I mentioned how much I love your poetry before I think, so I'd love to see what your take on a short story or fable would be!

When I was a kid, I always wanted a dragon as a pet. My mother was allergic to them and, while I don't remember the reason, I don't remember her ever wanting me to play with one.

I did have several (very tiny) dragons that I made, which I could "ride" in an imaginary way. (In a sense, this was a sort of "video game" for me -- I played with the dragons and they could "eat" and "talk," and I got points for doing certain things.) It was like the game "Fantasy Flight," where you can carry around "magical" animals.

I thought about all of this during the dream and came up with this story. I can't really remember how much of it was just an "after-the-fact" creation.

---

"My name is Orellan Dung, and I'm a dragon. No, not like those things that sit in the grass and you can ride on their backs."

A short, very small man with a round face peered at the dragon, which was now sitting next to him, holding itself upright on its little back legs. Orellan Dung's hands were covered in warts, and he looked nervous. The man's hand was raised and he appeared to be examining the dragon, a small and very ordinary-looking man with a mustache.

"Well, how many legs?" he said.

Orellan Dung, whose mouth was wide open like a yawn, spoke up.

"All of them," he replied. "I only have one head."

A large crowd of people began to fill the room, although they were not sure why or how.

A short man with dark hair and a very serious, almost sad face walked into the center of the room and started looking around with some confusion.

"Why do you say that?" he asked Orellan Dung.

"Because the others that I knew had only five legs. The last one died three months ago and the only one left is me."

"And yet your head has no ears, does it?"

"No, but if they had I could only hear them from my mouth."

The crowd began to thin out as people who could not follow the dialogue decided that this was not for them.

The man looked at the dragon, who was now resting on its bottom half.

"How can I believe that?" he said.

"I am a dragon," said Orellan Dung.

"You have one head, one neck, two arms and one body. I don't see any wings."

"You will see them," Orellan Dung said softly.

"Please," said the man, "why can't you see that you are a dragon?"

A man and a woman sat down on a bench. They were dressed in simple peasant clothes, and the man had a long beard and gray hair. The woman had a long flowing dark green gown and black hair.

"Why can't we see it?" asked the man.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted a dragon as a pet," she said.

"Me too," the man replied.

"My mother was allergic and, while I don't remember the reason, she never wanted me to play with one."

"She never wanted you to do anything with one either," said the man, "and yet here you are."

"I don't know, I just had a dragon in my head and it's always there and I can hear it," said the woman. "I never get lonely. I am never afraid."

"But you are alone," the man said.

Orellan Dung had been leaning back in his chair and was now staring down at the floor.

"Maybe I was alone," he said in a small voice.

The dragon spoke.

"She's here too," it said in an odd voice, "the woman is always here with me. She is here and I am here and we are not alone."

"No, not all of us have wings," said Orellan Dung in a thin voice.

"If you do not have wings then we can at least have the other things," said the woman, as the man suddenly started running across the room towards a wall and disappearing from sight.

A large group of people arrived, some carrying baskets and looking very unhappy, but a voice that sounded like a tiny old woman said:

"Do you hear him? He is the same dragon Orellan Dung was speaking of."

"How do you know he is not lying?" said the man.

"They say that all children are like him. If he is a dragon then he is a dragon. The man is a man who is a dragon, and the woman is a woman who is a dragon. We can see the things that are, not just the things we want."

"And you have a dragon in your head?" the man asked.

"We can not see it," said the woman. "When I was a little boy, my mother told me that sometimes the things you can see are made up or made of things you can not see. She told me to always remember that. Perhaps I can see it after all. I can not see it at all, but I can always remember that I should not expect to see it."

"Do you see it?" asked Orellan Dung.

"We see all of the same things," said the woman. "If I cannot see it then he cannot see it. It is not his head."

"When the man ran off, the woman started to run after him.

"When you ran away, you ran down to the end of the world," the dragon said. "We see things that are not there and we see things that are not here. Perhaps you cannot see him but we can."

"I will tell you a secret," Orellan Dung said. "When I was small, a boy my age, I knew a man whose mother was a dragon. There was a small hole in her side that would grow and grow until it would grow into her, and then her blood would grow and grow and she would die. The boy knew this, but he could not see it. When I asked my mother what was going to happen, she said she had read of something like this, it was in a book that she had once read about dragons. I asked her to show me what the hole was, but the boy's mother would not bring me."

"We do not always see the things that are. This one, the man, he will see you even if you cannot see him."

"I wish that I could help," Orellan Dung said softly. "But I can not."

Suddenly the dragon spoke again:

"She is coming," it said.

"She is here," said the woman in a whisper.

"How is she here?" the man asked, staring at the woman. "There is no way!"

"When I was a child," said the woman in a quiet voice, "I dreamed of the man who killed my mother."

"Is she coming here too?" said the dragon.

"We see everything," said the woman. "All of you, you are here and you are there, and there

[bisluthq]

I deeply apologize for the long ass message I’m about to send, but I have been wanting to write this since I listened to the interview you shared and I finally got around to looking up the quotes I wanted to talk about and, well, writing this very long ask.

“But then I think at a certain point, there kind of, like the relationship with your parents, there does needs to be this sort of break off somewhat for both parties. Where you kind of need to go do your own thing and they need to do their own thing a little bit” - Saoirse (I’m assuming that interview happened in late 2023)

“I have a healthier relationship with home now, because I see it sort of warts and all. And it’s really reminded me of the relationship that I feel like the majority of people go through with their parents. Where they start to grow up and they realize that oh they’re not this perfect being that has all the answers and there are no flaws that exist in this thing” - Saoirse (2023)

“She is 28, she’s not my little baby any more. I often see daddies walking in the street with their little girls and I remember that time and I remember that closeness. Nobody told me at the time it comes to an end” - Paul (2022)

“She’s marrying her daddy. I’ve been telling her that since the age of two.” - Paul (2011)

“In-laws is a big thing. I mean, it’s a very drastic sort of in-laws scenario. Hopefully it’s very rare, but we sort of took it to the extreme. I’ve never had any experiences like this with my in-laws. None that you know, um, nothing this extreme” - Jack (2020)

“She has chosen to never move to LA. She grew up in a small village with her friends with the values we would have given her and that will sustain her. Her boyfriend Jack is a lovely man with similar ethics.” - Paul (2022)

My reading of this is that Saoirse is an only child who grew up working in an industry full of abuse, which meant her parents had to be extremely protective of her. In that interview with her dad, he makes the comment about marrying him after she gets asked if she has a boyfriend, and she looks very uncomfortable being asked that question. But right before that, they were talking about 50 year old men sending her letters or something, and Paul said “I don’t know what they want but I know what I would like to give them”. I think it’s possible that the protectiveness they needed to have over those horrible situations (and the Catholicism) might have made them more protective than normal when it came to her having boyfriends.

Fast forward to now, Paul is sad that they aren’t as close anymore, while Saoirse talks about having to break off from your parents and do your own thing. I also think it’s interesting that when she first got with Jack, she lived in Ireland with Monica and they shared a dog. Then in 2019 she sold that house in Ireland, the same year Jack bought a house in Scotland and they started pretty much living together in London and Scotland (but hadn’t yet bought a house together). It’s also interesting that, while she’s apparently realized her parents aren’t perfect, she still praises Monica every chance she gets and they’re still very close (we see her every time they do a family vacation with Jack’s parents, she was also in a picture with Jacquie on Lucy’s instagram), while she barely mentions her dad and when she does it’s only to say she got into acting through him. We also know he’s never a part of these vacations with Jack’s family.

Then you have Jack implying that, while his in laws haven’t done anything as extreme as drugging him, kidnapping him and stealing his baby, they have done something. He could have some issues with Monica, but nothing really points to that. They don’t seem to hang out just the two of them like we know Saoirse and Jacquie have, but we have seen them hang out and she seems to like Jacquie, so I’m assuming she also really likes Jack (all of Saoirse’s friends also seem obsessed with him ngl). Paul did call Jack lovely, but based on his comment about marrying Saoirse when a boyfriend was brought up and based on Jack’s comment, there must be something there.

I think Saoirse grew up being really close to her parents. I think she started breaking off from her dad before Jack came to the picture, but it’s also clear that she didn’t really let go of her parents (or at least her mum) until she started to become more serious with Jack. Monica still gets to spend a lot of time with them, so while she does probably have all those “slipping through my fingers” feelings, she’s probably really happy for Saoirse and she is part of the family they’ve created. But Paul isn’t. I haven’t seen a divorce mentioned anywhere, so they might still be married, but it’s very clear Paul and Monica aren’t together anymore. He apparently lives with his parents and takes care of them because one has Alzheimer’s and the other one had a stroke. I’m sure Saoirse visits them sometimes when she’s in Ireland, but she seems to spend most of her time in Ireland at the West Cork house, so I don’t think she sees them much. She used to be super close with her dad though, so I think it’s been a mixture of realizing he’s not perfect, wanting to get away from the overprotectiveness, the separation with Monica and Jack coming along. She also seems so much more comfortable with sexuality and sex since getting with Jack. I think she had been growing away from her parents and catholic guilt before he came along, she had also been getting through feminism through Scarlett and that probably changed her outlook on sex as well. But I think the bigger change happened once she got with Jack.

Kind of a side note, it was so weird seeing her reaction to being asked about a boyfriend at 16, sitting next to her dad, right after listening to that interview where she’s openly bringing up Jack, her fiancé, as a 29 year old. I can’t believe she’s almost 30 and about to get married when it feels like just yesterday she was a 16 year old who felt uncomfortable talking about boyfriends 😢 (is my Paul coming through?)

If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wishing the tumblr app still had the character limit for asks

I think you’re dead on with this and Jack’s been a really good influence on her!

[prettyjammy]

The stories we tell ourselves

27 February 2021. It seems like the lockdown sort of made me miss a certain person that became an important presence in my life for a while. 

Four, five years after the fact, before every dreamless slumber, my thoughts never fail to drift to Blue. At one point I believed that my wishes might have the power to bring him back and continue where we left off, no matter how long that takes as if this grieving period has an immeasurable expiration date that will magically kick off with a happy ending. Looking back on a rather strange time of my life, I always try to remember who I was, what I looked like, how I took care of myself and my feelings, and the very desires that were left unsaid but immensely obvious in our actions. The majority of his presence – his shaky arrogance, false projections, frustrations, and debilitating self-doubt – was nearly impossible to soothe so we turned almost everything in jest until we couldn’t distinguish hurt from laughter. 

But in rare moments of tenderness, Blue was thoughtful, encouraging, and endearingly (sometimes painfully) opinionated about every little thing. When we had our first serious conversation over chat, it went on for hours and hours than I can count. Little did I know that it would be our thing for months to come: he talked about all the bands that saved his life, the places in Japan he was dying to visit, our shared love for musicians named Paul, as well as a mutual admiration for John Cusack. I told him that Say Anything is one of my all-time favorites and, to this day, I’m still wishing for a love like what Lloyd and Diane had.

“Have you seen High Fidelity? Akong-ako si John Cusack don,” he said. “Although, Jack Black also had some moments.”

I told him I was planning to because I was finishing reading the book at the time. “Keep this book away from your girlfriend – it contains too many of your secrets to let it fall into the wrong hands,” one of the most prominent praises for the book says. It read to me like a red flag as Blue and I entered into a month of seeing each other. 

I knew what kind of person Rob Gordon was. He was ruminating, insecure, selfish, and lonely. He was terrible with women. Cusack translated this on-screen very, very well. His charming man as Lloyd was nowhere to be found even with Cusack’s regular joe good looks. But then again, I’ve always felt compelled to love complex (read: difficult) people.

Blue glorified this character, as well as the movie, to death. He’d come over to my place a week later to watch it with him.

“Sabi ko sayo e, guys like us still stand a chance,” he said as the credits rolled, looping his arm around my middle, stopping me so we could lay some more. It was a sunny afternoon on a weekday and I remember taking him to my bedroom to smoke because I didn’t want the smell to give away the fact that I wasn’t alone. Boyfriends, or any form of male company really, were an unspoken restriction in our make-shift compound. 

I watched while I waited for him to finish the last drag off of his cigarette before walking up towards him by the window. I just wanted to be close to him – to see if he could let me in. It was still unfathomable to me that I invited a boy in my room, let alone one that I actually have real attraction for and seems to feel the same way. He sealed our closeness as his tall frame leaned on mine until our lips met in an innocent but lingering kiss.

Soon these secret meetings became uncomfortable. From going to each other’s houses, we would opt to stay at motels with no lunch nor dinner dates prior. I was starting to worry. But more than anything I was sad because I had already altered my brain to allow myself to be seen, warts and all. I opened up my heart and I was ready to jump from infatuation to real love. Maybe I was already there.

Our memories are imperfect and often glossed over, and when I trace them back to those five, six months of… whatever, I often catch myself wondering if they were ever real. Though, one thing is for sure: I was aware of how I felt. 

To quote Tavi Gevinson, “I try to remember that what I really want is not to go back, but what I have now: the image, the memory.” 

We were anchored in troubled waters and the angle was off right from the beginning. I already felt small compared to him. Five years ago I would’ve claimed that no other guy could ever make me feel how he made me feel. That, my affections were a gift he so deserved that I would be the luckiest person on earth had he acknowledged them, if not returned. I always felt reciprocation was already too much to ask – that I would be more than fine with settling for the bare minimum. As I said, I felt small next to him.

Today, like many days passed, I wish I reacted differently and cherished those moments of openness because I knew he was maybe reaching out for someone to listen. I always felt he just didn’t like being pitied because of his stubborn pride. Even so, I won’t ever trade those bits of perpetual bliss talking from our beds for anything. I want to believe that I truly connected with someone in those brief months just when I thought my life was getting stranger and turning into something I could no longer control.

Those of us who were born with a growing solitude and absolute independence have a complicated relationship with intimacy. I don’t dislike vulnerability even if it’s with the wrong friends and romantic potential because I’m not an inverted snob. But then again, intimacy is a fickle thing to betray and plays a key part in abandonment. I’m still going through establishing the right set of boundaries with everyone I meet and I already know; I just have to remind myself time and time again that they don’t have to be infinite.

[la-appel-du-vide]

10•16•22

Our annual Halloween party is back! Since our group Scooby Doo costume was such a hit last year, we went for another group costume this year. We chose to do Wizard of Oz, and be the Oz Squad. We didn't get quite as much love this year, but I'm still proud of how it turned out. Beach was the world's cutest Dorothy, Kena reprised her role as the Wicked Witch of the West, I was Glinda the Good Witch (in a pink dress this time, like the movie), Jason was the Tin Man, Glen was the Lion, and Brayden was the Scarecrow.

We took our pictures in a cornfield, to give it the Oz effect. We got a later start than we hoped for, so the pictures also just didn't turn out as well as they could have. You can see from our little TikTok how dusty it was too!

Then it was party time. We started at Kena's house, for her "Happy Hallo-EAT" dinner. It was super cute. She put together mystery menus, where you had to order things based on the title alone, not knowing what it would turn out to be! For example, for the drinks, I ordered "Dark of the Night" which turned out to be sprite dyed dark purple. Brayden ordered, "Ghost Blood" and it ended up being water hahaha. I'd guessed it would be some kind of fruit punch. So just cute stuff like that! Other examples were an appetizer called "Frankenstein Lost His Head" and it was a Mason jar with a Frankenstein face drawn on filled with green grapes. Or a Mummy Wrap being a quesadilla. We all loved it, and applaud all of her hard work.

Then we did Beach's game which was a Halloween decor scavenger hunt! It was a team game, and B and I won by three points. Our prize was a bag of Halloween candy.

We all ended at our house, so we could let Reef out of his kennel, and then finished out the rest of the party there.

My game was a Halloween "name that tune." Everyone was pretty good at it, except Beach hahah. But in the end, Brayden won my $5 Starbucks gift card prize.

Then we played Jason's game, which was a spit ball version of pin the wart on the witch. Chewing up the paper grossed me out so much haha, but I did get one to stick to the wall. Other than that, they just bounced off. Beach got the closest, and won an inflatable ghost decoration for her house!

Glen went next, and we played a little relay game, boys against girls. Each team had a broomstick, and we had to sweep a baby pumpkin down the hallway and around a chair, and then back to hand-off to our teammates. There was some definite cheating going on, and one of the pumpkins got smashed so hard into our baseboard that the Sharpie face got transferred from the pumpkin to the wall. Yikkesssss. Maybe a game better played outside haha. The boys won, but again, cheating.

Finally, B did the Trivia Murder Party on Jackbox games. We played two rounds, and the winner of the second round was the overall prize winner for an Amazon card. Beach won the first round, but I pulled through to win the second round! She wasn't happy (;

Then we watched the majority of the Wizard of Oz, and looking up the sad history behind filming it, before calling it a very late night. Love this tradition!

[feralwaff1e]

Pokerus AU 5 of 6

Wow, can believe we’re almost done with the first half of this series. As always this au belongs to @monsoon-of-art ! This part has to most dialogue and humor and I just love this. I am not sure if they can talk to pokemon during their transformations? But we’re doing it for the humor! Now we have Lord Avalugg and Warden Gaeric!

“Lord Avalugg!” Gaeric yelled out as he climbed the Pokémon’s legacy to get better footing, “I’ve brought you, your offering! I apologize for being late!”

Avalugg didn't care that Gaeric was late, he was more concerned that the warden had showed up at all. The warden in question was covered in holes at the moment, and that couldn’t have possibly not hurt while climbing the legacy. Avalugg Made his concern known with a low rumble.

The warden in question just rolled his eyes as he sat on the legacy, “My lord, I mean it with all due respect, but your being a worry wart.” Gaeric waved away Avalugg’s worry with his hand looking away, “Lord Avalugg I promise you, I feel no pain from these transformations.”

Avalugg huffed and rolled his eyes, “Why you insist on lying to me astounds me. You know I talk to the other nobles, and they say all their wardens feel pain from these transformations.”

Avalugg knew his talk only came out as huffs and grunts to the warden, but he needed to call the other out. If he didn’t then who would?

Well Palina probably but she was still in the coastlands.

“My lord…” Gaeric’s voice sounded wobbly, and Avalugg’s attention was quickly on his warden. Gaeric never sounded so wobbly unless he was truly perturbed, “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think I just understood you?!”

“What.”

Gaeric’s face said he needed to know, and, the fact the man stood up quickly, “Oh I think I can understand you my lord!” Gaeric ran a hand through his hair, a terrified look on his face, “My lord, why do I understand you?!”

“I don’t know!” Avalugg shook his massive head, “It might have to do with the fact you’re turning into a Pokémon?!”

“Okay! This is fine!” Gaeric said as he paced on the legacy, “We can keep it a secret until we figure this out!”

“In the name of Palkia, we aren’t!” Avalugg said as he stomped his foot, “I’m calling Lord Bravariy to take you back to the settlement to tell Calaba!”

“Who’s Palkia?!” Gaeric said as his arms stretched out, “You mean Sinnoh?!”

“That’s what you ask Gaeric?!” Avalugg said, his calmness quickly giving way to panic, “Look, we’ll deal with this and then focus on that! Okay?”

Gaeric nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, that sounds good.” He looked at Avalugg with a sad smile, “Too bad this is in correlation with the transformations, otherwise this would be awesome.”

Before Avalugg could even agree with Gaeric, as the man was waving, talking with his hands. The warden’s right arm just fell off.

“Well, that’s no good!” Gaeric said, only looking down wide eyed at his now disembodied arm.

“Oh my Palkia!” Avalugg said staring in horror at the arm

“Don’t worry, it’s okay!” Gaeric said as he tried to calm Avalugg, but that didn’t work as the other was already gone off to call Lord Braviary.

Today was turning out to be a very eventful day.

[husbandohunter]

Windblume Memories [Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: “The annual Windblume festival held in the name of romance and freedom! Why not celebrate it with your lover?”

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc

(A/N): A self-indulgent headcanon because Mihoyo has yet to give us more moments with our husbandos. Just imagining them having fun and enjoying, mah heart~~ And no Mihoyo, if you bother giving us their quotes why can’t you just give us a hangout already (cri cri)

------------------------------------------------------

{Diluc}

“I do know how to play music. Is it so strange?"

• As the most eligible (former)bachelor of Mondstadt, it wouldn't be a surprise if he actually knew the ways of an instrument. But here you were, comepletely awestruck while looking expectantly at your fiance.

• "Diluc you're so perfect I love you!" -you probably

• Back in the days when he took his etiquette lessons, Diluc also learned how to play the violin as well as the piano but the lyre was a traditional instrument of Mondstadt so he focused on that the most.

• His repitoire would lean more to the soft and solemn pieces. (Like his soundtracks HA)

• Diluc is quite shy when you ask him to give you a performance but the way you just plead, he can't say no

• If you don't know how to play an instrument, he'll be more than glad to help you. He's an excellent teacher due to the vast amount of patience he has (thought can't really say the same for other people) and could spend hours elaborating on the same place you've been stuck at.

"Why is this song so slooooow?"

"You're being too hasty, love."

• You're worried if he's bored but Diluc reassures that he isn't. Seldom does he have the opportunity to spend time with you like this so he makes sure to treasure every moment (Even when you're about to break the goddam lyre out of frustration).

• But when you do manage to make it to the end after several attempts, albeit still terrible, there would be the stupidest fat grin on your face while chanting, "I did it! I did it!"

• And he'd praise you as a soft expression graces his features, "You certainly did."

• Soft man I cri

"It takes a long period of training to become a battle-ready archer. These games are only enough to pass the time."

• "No Diluc, I brought you here to have fun not to have this as a training session."

• This man can do pretty much ANYTHING and literally win you any prize. You want that stuffed toy? Consider it taken.

• Perhaps the activities weren't challenging enough. Whether it'd be wind gliding or the peculiar wonderland house, he's got the reflexes for it all.

• Since Diluc is so battle oriented, he treats the games as such. You call him a worry wart after falling into the pit just because you steped on the wrong stone: "Diluc I’m fine. Its just a game." He’ll grab you out of pure instinct and apologize shortly after when you pout at him

• Eventually Diluc learns to loosen up while still keeping an eye at your stance. You figured it would probably be best if you two stuck with something more light and carefree. In a nutshell, anything but the peculiar wonderland house.

• At the end of the day, the two of you are exhausted from all that workout. While closing up Angel's Share after a long night, Diluc catches you falling asleep at the front bar and gently drapes his coat over your shoulders.

• His initial plan was to wake you up since the ideal place to sleep would be the Dawn Winery but Diluc didn't have the heart to wake you up. He simply sits on the stool beside you while leaning down to memorize your serene look, thankful to have been able to experience what it's like to live in a city of freedom again.

{Kaeya}

"Oh dear, is this what they call a height advantage? I suppose I can go a little easy on you all to make things a bit more exciting."

• You gave him that look where you weren't quite sure if he was lying or telling the truth. Could the Cavalry Captain be afraid of heights? You'll never know.

• So regardless, you guys decided to fly together which at first was meant to be a competition of who can collect the most flowers. You managed to land safely with the highest score while your boyfriend was still behind, trying to avoid the dusty balloons.

"Seems like I went a little too easy on you," he jests. You roll your eyes.

"Alright, let's go for another round then."

• This time you had a different idea. Just a few seconds before the game started, you took him by the hand and jumped straight off the platform. The whole time as the two of you were soaring through the air, you held him tight.

• "Now it shouldn't be so scary anymore!"

• The surprised expression he had lasted for a moment before melting into a smile, "How very cunning of you, darling."

• Your security gave him the chance to admire the scenery from the skies, it was a breathtaking view. How your hair whips beautifully against the wind and your pink-tainted cheeks from the cold, breathtaking.

• Though, holding the other meant you had to collect the flowers with one hand and one arm which proved to be very unproductive. Even once the both of you landed within the garland of windwheel asters, Kaeya was still holding your hand.

• Kaeya often treats fearful situations as thrilling experiences but the outcome in the end turned out to be more favourable than he had initially planned it to be. Though if you’re a novice windglider beware, this man will let you go at random times just so he can see your reactions. 

"What an interesting diversion. Since everyone's in high spirits, it would truly be a shame if I didn't pitch in a little!"

• You were extremely curious of Kaeya's musical skills since his nature tends to lean towards the frivolous side. Unexpectedly, his tunes and playing style sounded melancholic as well. Most likely due to the fact of growing up in the Ragnvindr household.

• Since he hangs out at the bars during late nights quite often, Kaeya would know how to play a few tunes he picked up along the way. He would love to give you a full on performance! Anything for his sweetheart~ Though keep staring and you might find him teasing you about it after.

• Honestly Kaeya also makes an excellent teacher. His way of wording makes everything so easy to understand which is helpful to avoid silly mistakes. He teaches you very simple lyre pieces, brushing his fingers over yours every once in a while to help you adjust the right position.

• You think he's doing this on purpose to get you bothered but Kaeya simply feigns ignorance.

• But if you do know how to play a lyre, it would be a session where both of you share your songs. Out of all of them, there was one song that stuck out the most:

You felt a sense of longing in the tune Kaeya played. Far too slow to match the upbeat atmosphere of Mondstadt during the day and not as romantic as it would be during the night. Instead, it seemed to reflect the emotion of sadness, like hands reaching to a far away land which turned out to be nothing but a mirage.

"Where did you learn that piece? I never heard it before," you comment shortly after he finished.

Kaeya hums playfully while shooting a grin to match, "I composed it myself."

"Is that so?" You learned to not take everything at face value when talking to your lover, "Then where did you draw your inspiration from. It doesn't seem like you'd create it on a whim when your expertise lies in swordsmanship."

"Aha just when did you become so keen sweetheart?"

"Since I started dating you."

"Touche."

There would be a momentary pause and during times like these, it was easy to tell that the subject was related to his homeland. Kaeya always found it hard to bring up the topic, even before he met Crepus, music was one of the very last traces that tied his life to the scarce warms days of Khaenriah.

"What's the song called?"

Thankful that you changed the subject, Kaeya answers, "Frozen Dreams. At least, that is what I can remember."

"Frozen Dreams?" You pondered quietly, "I wonder what that title means."

"Do you like it that much?"

"Of course, that piece must be very important to you right? I would like to learn it," You pump your fists determinedly, I would like to learn about you as much as I can.

He looks at you, lips slightly parted at your genuine declaration. Although you may be tenacious when it came to his secrets, Kaeya did not doubt that it was also one of the quirks he loved about you most. With a small chuckle, he complies your request, “It would be my pleasure.”

Sometimes its best to leave the words unspoken. Perhaps another day when Kaeya feels ready to tell you everything, for now he will revel in the present where the intagible feelings of music and emotion do the speaking.

[stevesharrlngtons]

i measure time by days spent away from you.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: while you’re off on a girls weekend, roman is left missing you.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: ingredients: just sweetness. instructions: read when you are feeling sad. results: good feelings resulting in feedback 4 the writer (-:  

“I can’t believe you’re being such a baby about this.” 

“Fuck off,” Roman grumbled in reply, moving to lay flat against the mattress with a huff. 

You just laughed and continued to fold clothes into your bag. You were very meticulous when it came to packing, wanting everything in your suitcase to be stored efficiently to maximize space. Roman always teased you about it. Although, each and every vacation taken together, he always complained that he couldn’t fit everything he wanted to bring in his suitcase. You’d counter his irritation by offering to help him pack next time, and he’d always roll his eyes stubbornly.

But, you wouldn’t have to hear his snarky comments or annoyed ramblings this trip, because you were leaving Roman behind in Pennsylvania. 

Destiny had invited you to her bachelorette party in Atlantic City for the long weekend, and you had happily accepted. You had been awaiting this girls trip for weeks and you were excited that it had finally arrived. You didn’t have many female friends anymore, having grown apart from the ones you made in high school and college, so the opportunity to have some good old fashioned girl time was overdue. While you and Destiny were close, you had never met any of her other friends. You were silently hoping to come out of the weekend with some new buddies, a few good stories, and plans for future adventures. 

“I just don’t understand why it’s three days…” he said, watching you riffle through the closet for a party dress. 

“Hardly,” you snorted, “I’ll be gone tonight, tomorrow and Sunday morning. You’ll barely even notice.”

The sound of you moving hangers around covered Roman’s pouted not likely.

Roman had been dreading your departure all week and now that it was here, he was stewing in self pity and pubescent angst. He didn’t want you to fly to New Jersey and go partying with a bunch of rowdy women, he just wanted you to himself. Which he knew was selfish and borderline unhealthy, but he didn’t really care. He liked you right by his side, slung under his arm, safe and sound. He wasn’t used to you going out with friends and especially not for so long. If you were out for an evening, you were back and in bed snuggled to his chest well before dawn. 

“I just don’t see why you can’t fly out Saturday morning, do whatever Destiny wants, then fly home in the evening,” Roman sighed, waving his hands lazily in the air. 

“What kind of loser does that? It’s like showing up for the birthday party and leaving before the sleepover,” you took a dress from the closet and walked to the mirror to pose with it infront of your body. 

“You hated sleepovers as a kid,” he argued. 

“I never wanted to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor,” you shuttered, “but when I’m promised a nice mattress, along with tons of drinking and dancing? Count me in for the sleepover and all the party favors.” 

“So, what?” Roman pushed up to rest on his elbows, “You’re just going to get wasted and dance? You could do that here, y’know?” 

“You wanna go dancing with me, Rome?” you shifted your eyes from the dress to look at his reflection in the mirror. 

“You know I’d go with you if you asked…” 

“Then, we should totally go dancing next weekend, baby.” 

You turned to place the dress you had been modeling in your bag and Roman groused petulantly. He watched closely as you folded the slinky designer dress on top of your other clothing and toiletries, smiling when it fit perfectly. You mouthed your checklist to yourself, counting off on your fingers that you had everything you needed, before you zipped the suitcase shut. When you had finished, you shuffled around on your knees to look at him.

“What if I fly down with you and we could get our own room? Have some hotel fun?” he raised an eyebrow and you just shook your head at his pleading. 

“Ro, this is a girls weekend, meaning no boys allowed. Including you.” 

He once more threw himself back down on the mattress in theatrics. 

“You do know that Peter lives here now?” you walked over to the bed and hopped on to straddle his hips, “How can you be mad at me for leaving you to have a fun weekend with your best friend?”

“Peter has plans.” 

“I know for a fact that he doesn't,” you took Roman’s face on your hands and pivoted his chin to look at you, “so go out with him. Have some fun, get drunk, do whatever you can’t do when I’m here.”  

Roman let you handle him completely, his neck limp and suggestible. He stared up at you with sad emerald eyes. 

“What if I make some calls and get the jet? I could get it here in an hour and you could go to New Jersey and be home before dinner?”

You just smiled and leaned down to kiss him softly, “I love you.” 

“Is that a yes?” 

“It’s a no, but I still love you.”

Again, Roman slumped and sulked.  

You looked down at your moping boyfriend and kissed his jaw affectionately. You knew that Roman loved you, but you weren’t entirely sure why he was throwing such a fit about your leaving? Sure, he liked being with you, doing things with you, fucking you; but he wasn’t one of those partner’s who was lost without their other half. Roman did plenty of things alone, even went on the occasional business trip all by his lonesome and never put up this kind of fight before. 

You had mentally chalked it down as him being a possessive worry wart, which is why you already had plans to text him often to ease his mind. 

As you continued to lay soft kisses to his skin, there was a honk outside followed closely by a buzz of your phone. Your car had arrived to pick you up. Roman groaned as you sat up. 

“I gotta go, baby.” 

“Five more minutes?” 

“I don’t think I can ask the driver to do that,” you hummed as you pushed yourself off him. 

You went to the door and you looked over your shoulder to see Roman still laying down, a scowl on his face. 

“Are you gonna walk me down, at least? I’d like to say goodbye to you.”

Roman’s scowl deepened before he released a deep breath and pushed up from the mattress and walked to you. When he reached you, you made a move to grab your bags, but Roman beat you to it. He picked up your luggage without any haste and left the bedroom without a word or backward glance. You just rolled your eyes at his childishness and followed him, catching up with his long legged strides to wrap your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek firmly to his back, and wound your fingertips in the fabric of his shirt. It made walking down the stairs a struggle, but Roman didn’t move to peel you off, which you appreciated. 

“You off?” Peter asked from the living room, lifting the remote to pause whatever he was watching on TV. 

“Sure am,” you said from behind Roman, giving him a gentle squeeze. 

“Have fun, will ya? Say hi to D for me.” 

“I will,” you grinned as Roman stayed silent. 

You could see Peter's face screw up with confusion on Roman’s stoic behavior, but kept his mouth shut on the matter, something you were thankful for. There was another honk from outside which prompted you to start to drag your oversized boyfriend to the front door. 

“Have fun!” Peter called again, his voice muted by the closing door. 

Once outside, Roman handed off your suitcase to the town car driver. The man took your luggage, then opened the backseat door swiftly for you to enter, waiting expectantly. 

“Give us a minute,” Roman said, dismissing the driver with a little too much hostility. 

The driver gave no indication of being offended by Roman’s tone, as he nodded and went to put your bag in the trunk of the car and then returned to the driver's seat. When he was out of sight, Roman looked you in the eyes. 

“You really sure you wanna go?” 

“Really sure,” you responded with a quick nod. 

“I guess I can’t talk you out of it then, now can I?” he frowned. 

“Roman, I promise you everything is going to be OK. I’ll be fine there, and you’ll be fine here.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he slumped his shoulders. 

“Then what is it?” 

Roman just shrugged. Too stubborn to admit how much he would miss you. 

You sighed, “Well, whatever it is… I’m going to miss you.” 

Roman took his hands from his pockets and placed them on your hips. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll miss you, too.” 

You slid your hands up his chest to meet behind his neck, pulling him close. 

“I love you very much,” you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, which Roman chased. 

“Love you, too.” he returned, giving you a much longer, more passionate kiss. 

When you pulled apart, Roman spoke again. 

“Text me when you get to the airport, when you board the plane, when you take off, when you land, when you actually get off the plane, what kind of car you're taking to the hotel, get me the driver’s info if you can --” you interrupted his rambled list. 

“I will, I will do all of that and I will tell you when we get to the hotel.” you said in a soft, placating voice. You smoothed your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and felt tiny goosebumps form along the skin underneath. 

“Fine, fine, OK.” Roman’s jaw tightened. 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to the tensing muscle, “I love you and I promise to keep you posted, but I gotta go. I don’t wanna miss the flight.” 

Roman nodded stiffly, but said nothing. 

You began to wiggle away from his hold, when Roman decided to swoop down one last time to kiss you. You were sure the driver was retching by the sheer amount of times you both had done so, but you didn’t care. You loved this silly man and would drown him in smooches to his heart content before you left. 

When your final kiss ceased, you both with labored breathing and gloss swollen lips, Roman let you enter the backseat of the town car and shut the door behind you. 

As the car drove away, you unrolled the window and leaned out the opening, blowing him a dramatic kiss as you swayed your arm in the wind like a 19th century on looker to a parting ship. Roman watched you with a stilted smile until you disappeared down the road. 

When Roman came back inside the house, Peter was waiting for him.

“So, the ol’ ball and chain is out for the weekend. What are your plans?”

Roman said nothing to him as he began to march up the stairs, hand clenching the rail. 

“I’m thinking strippers? Huh? Could be fun?” Peter walked to the staircase and watched Roman until he receded into the hallway without a reply. 

“Maybe rent the fight on pay-per-view? Get some beers?” he called louder. 

Still he only received silence. He rested his chin on the banister and waited a moment before he yelled, “Fine, be a pussy and cry that your girlfriend is gone!” 

The sound of a door being thrown open was Peter’s first response, followed by a verbal one. 

“I never said no, Jesus! So fucking fine, let’s go to the strip club, asshole.” 

Peter smirked as he heard Roman’s indiscernible grumbles before he shut himself right back into his bedroom. Roman liked to pretend he was complicated, but Peter could play him like a fiddle. 

Roman was surrounded by body oil, neon lights and gyrating women. A few years ago, this would have been his heaven, his domain. But now, it all felt trivial and antiquated. It felt played out and pathetic. With the neck of a beer bottle cradled lazily between his fingers, he watched on as the beautiful women of the club stripped from their skimpy costumes and revealed themselves in new and arousing ways. 

Peter, who sat next to him at their small circular table, was transfixed by the women around them. Reclined in his seat with a smile on his face, his eyes followed the dancers as they spun around poles, as they groped and shook themselves. Roman knew that he should have the same appreciation for the dancers as his friend. He knew that he should be calling over the ones who eyed him up and down with lust, he knew that he should be paying for private dances until his bank account ran dry. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t feel like it, at all. 

Peter picked up on his friend's lack of enthusiasm when he found him slipping his phone from his pocket every few minutes to check for notifications. He let out a snort through his nose, one that was muffled under the booming music, but still heard by Roman. 

“What?” he asked as he tried to discreetly put his cell back in his front pocket. 

“Nothing,” Peter hummed, raising his eyebrows, “Just find it funny.” 

“Find what funny?” 

“That you’re so whipped.” 

“Fuck off,” Roman scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. 

“Sure, sure, whatever. It won’t make you any less whipped, though…” Peter smirked. 

“I am not fucking whipped.” 

“Yeah? Then why do you look like you just put your fucking dog down when you should be looking like a kid in a candy store? Huh?” 

“I’m just not feeling it, OK? These girls are ugly. If I see one more cesarean scar I might vomit,” he sneered. 

“These girls are all tens and you know it! You’re just being a pouty little whipped boy because your girlfriend’s gone.” 

Roman’s face hardened as he turned to glare at Peter, “Fine, y’know that? Fuck you, you goddamn prick. Have fun with these busted bitches. I’m out of here.” 

Roman shot from his seat and slammed his beer on the table, causing a few other patrons to look over. He was already gathering his things to leave. 

“Hey, hey, hey, cool down, bud,” Peter said, trying to pacify a Godfrey level tantrum, “I was just joking around, OK? I’m just bustin’ your balls, that’s all.”

Roman’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he loomed over the table with a glower in his wide eyes. 

“C’mon man, just sit,” Peter pleaded, “Don't be weird about it, just sit.” 

Roman eventually relented after a long pause, collapsing his long limbs back into his chair with a loud sniff, his posture rigid. Roman picked his beer back up and took a pull from the bottle. 

“Look, I really was just kidding around, alright? Don’t take it to heart or anything,” Peter said, leaning toward his friend so he wouldn’t have to talk over the music. 

“Yeah, Ok. Fine,” Roman replied, refusing to make eye contact by letting his gaze wander around the club. 

Peter sighed, “I get it, alright? I do. When you’re in love, things are different. You have blinders on to everything but that one person, and as easy as it is to make fun of, it’s not a bad thing, Roman. It’s good, and it’s a good feeling to have.” 

Roman finally looked over the table to Peter, whose gaze had wilted and saddened. He could practically see him thinking about Letha, her face forming and twisting in his irises. 

He swallowed thickly before he slapped Peter on the shoulder in a search to break the tension, “No hard feelings. I’m gonna head out for a smoke, yeah? And I promise when I get back I’ll have a better time. OK?” 

Peter pursed his lips in an attempt to ward off the bubbling curse of his fallen love's memory and nodded, quickly downing the remainder of his drink and calling a waitress over for another. 

Roman took his jacket from the back of his chair and headed for the exit. Once outside, he collected his pack of Marlboros from his pocket, then a cigarette and the lighter that fit snuggly beside each other. 

As he sucked on the filter under the club’s awning and fluorescent flood lights, he felt his phone vibrate. He scrambled to retrieve it from his jeans and read the text hurriedly. 

just got to dinner and im ordering a vodka soda and thinking of you. miss u already, ily!

Roman’s heart flipped and fluttered in a way that made his cheeks tinge with pink, while a smile fought to curl on his lips. As he quickly typed out a reply, a little voice in the back of his head told him that maybe Peter was right, maybe he was whipped. 

drink slow, baby, remember what happened in ibiza when you had to many lol

And immediately after

i love you too, keep me posted

When he pocketed his phone once more, Roman pondered. Flicking the ash off of the end of his cigarette, he decided that there were worse things in life than being in love with a woman, and being devoted to her. If that made him whipped, then so be it. Though, he would never admit that to anyone but his consciousness (even a bit painfully at that).  

The sheets were warm with body heat and Roman had lost the cool side of his pillow hours ago. He tossed and turned. He shucked off the blankets, just to retrieve them moments later. His limbs danced under the sheets in search of comfort and a portion of the bed that wasn’t sticky with his sweat and a high temperature. His hips hurt from laying on his sides and his shoulders hurt when he rolled on his back. He was crawling out of his skin with discomfort and soreness as the moon illuminated the bedroom. Around 1AM, he had tried to close the blinds, but they only ever budged for your magic touch, and Roman had only mangled them into an unrelenting slope. 

Roman had checked his phone every ten minutes since he got under the covers. He had texted you a succinct good night around eleven and had received a jumbled good night in response. He had typed out a text that had bordered on passive aggressive, asking about how your night had been going and how much you had had to drink, but deleted it before he hit send. He was doing his best to avoid playing into the overbearing, resentful boyfriend role that he felt he was in. You deserved to let loose, he just wished he was by your side as you did (and not thousands of miles away).

He had typed another text out just after midnight, then another after the blinds incident, but deleted those as well. Part of his pouting was pretending that you didn’t want to be bothered by his messages, so he would just lock his phone and return it to the night stand each time. But, that was before the irritation had set in on his bones and just the thought of trying to fall asleep made his skin waver and blister. 

But he still didn’t text you. 

Because this time he called. 

He shuffled around as he listened to the phone ring in his ear, squirming under the covers as the top sheet seemed to be holding his ankle hostage. He felt an overwhelming urge to snap and strip the bed of its clothes and throw them all out on the lawn, when he heard you begin to pick up.

“Ro?” you shouted into the receiver, the loud blare of club music accompanying your voice. 

“Hey, you’re still out?” he asked, twisting his leg around erratically until his ankle was free. 

“I can’t hear you! Hold on,” you said loudly again, followed by muffled shuffles as you moved through the crowd.   

“Wait! Hold on! Roman! Wait!” he heard your far away voice say as you exited the club. 

The music grew further away and the static shuffle ended, Roman could finally hear your voice and only it. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” you giggled.

“Having fun?” Roman asked, trying to mask his interest. 

“Yeah,” he could hear your shrug, “dancing is lots of fun.”

“You sound like you’re having fun.” 

“Well, I can be lots of fun after a few Moscow Mules,” you chuckled at your own joke. 

“Switched from vodka sodas?”

“Yeah, the other girls were drinking them so I thought, ‘Hey! Why not?’”

Roman could hear the sound of your high heels echoing on the pavement. 

“How are you getting along with them? No bad blood?” 

There was a beat of pause on your end before you sighed, “It’s hard to make new friends, Rome.”

“Did something happen?” Roman felt a flare of anger in his chest. 

“No, no,” you replied, “they’re nice girls, I think I’m just in my head about it.” 

“Are you sure, baby?” 

“Yeah, everything's fine, really. I am having a lot of fun.” you reassured. 

“You sure?” 

“I mean, they’re nice. They are… but they’ve all been friends for years, and I’m just this new girl coming in and trying to fit in with them. That’s the only bad part; feeling like I have to prove myself or something… I don’t know. Girls are weird,” you peeled away at the skin on your lip as you spoke. 

“They’re excluding you? The fuck is wrong with those fucking women? Who the fuck do they think they are?” Roman’s heart beat began to accelerate and suddenly sleep was the last thing on his mind. 

“No, of course they aren’t excluding me. Destiny wouldn’t let that happen and you know it,” you said, “it’s just… they all have inside jokes and years of history together and y’know, here I come, Destiny’s new friend whose main bond with her is weird vargulf trauma.”

“I swear to God, baby, if I hear anything about them bullying you, no one will ever find the bodies. I’ll drain those snotty bitches for you,” he swore. 

You replied with a light hearted giggle, “I highly doubt that will be necessary. But is there something very wrong with me, that you threatening homicide for me, sorta turns me on?” 

Your comment was the pin to burst the anger that had begun to balloon in his chest. 

Roman snickered, “No, at least not to me. I think that’s what makes us work together.” 

You made a noise in thoughtful agreement.

“Roman? Can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why aren’t you asleep? You came home from the club hours ago.” 

Roman let a beat of silence come over the receiver as he collected his thoughts. He was slightly embarrassed by the reason, and while he had come to the conclusion there were worse things in the world than being whipped, he didn’t want you to know how whipped he was for you. 

“Jus’ hard to sleep alone,” Roman mumbled into his phone, picking at a loose thread on the duvet. 

He heard you snort a laugh and twinge of shame flared in his belly. 

“Ro, you sleep without me all the time! I’m the needy one who can never sleep without you, remember? We go over this everytime you go out of town.”

“What? So, I’m some frigid monster without feelings? I can’t miss you? I can’t possibly not be able to sleep without you because I’m such an unfeeling asshole?” Roman carped defensively. 

“Mm, baby, I love when you put words in my mouth,” you were happily drunk, so while this could have been said with malice and venom during a fight, you said it with warmth and giggles now. 

“I never said that you are unfeeling or cold or an asshole. You are sometimes, but that’s beside the point,” Roman grumbled bitterly as you continued, “You’ve just never brought up not bein’ able to sleep when you’re away, is all. You go to Tokyo quarterly and it’s never come up when you get home.”

A jumbled, muffled response came from Roman’s end as his cheeks burned red. 

“What? Ro, I can’t hear you?” 

“I said, I… Jesus, fine. I said that I always refill my sleeping pills when I leave, ok? I pop an Ambien or two and that’s how I can sleep away from you,” he confessed, “and I don’t know, I guess I forgot to refill them before you left. So, yeah, whatever.” 

You didn’t immediately reply to Roman’s admission and his stomach began to churn with hot worry. Rationally, he knew that you wouldn’t ridicule him or tease him for his attachment to you and his acknowledgement of it. But the irrational side, the side that grew up with Olivia Godfrey as his mother, who would dull out affection only as a form of manipulation, made him feel sick. 

“Oh, Rome,” you cooed, your voice tender and comforting, “I never knew that… I, that’s actually really sweet.” 

Roman’s shoulders dropped, “Yeah?” 

“Yes! I think it’s very sweet. We can’t sleep without each other. I think it’s cute. I think that means something.” 

“Something good?” 

“I’d say so.”

Intense warmth flooded under Roman’s skin and filled his body with loose relaxation. He could hear the smile in your voice, and he could see you swaying in your heels, propping yourself up on a brick wall that bordered the building, and he knew you were wishing it was him. He wished it was him, too. He had never felt such a perverse envy of brick in his life, because it got to feel your soft skin and caress your flowing hair while Roman was a million miles away, craving the taste of you. 

Roman wished he could curl up inside your voice, that he could let your syllables embrace and pet him, let your sentences of sweeter things and kind compliments rock him to sleep and help him forget how far away you truly were.

After a few silent moments of simmering in each other’s long distance affection, Roman reluctantly spoke.

“You gotta go back in soon?” 

“Probably,” you gave a heaving sigh, “I don’t want them to worry or anything.” 

“Or have them give you shit for being whipped,” Roman said with a forced chuckle. 

He knew that this showed another chink in his armour, that his vulnerability glowed from underneath his comment. Sleep deprivation and loneliness was taking a toll on his filtering ability. 

“Pft,” you blew out the sound from your lips, “they already know that I’m whipped, Rome. I’m not much of a secret keeper.” 

You disclosed this without any stuttered worry or fear. You told Roman of your love and devotion to him without having to grit your teeth or wipe your clammy hands on your pants. It helped him feel comfortable in admitting his affections for you, but it was still much harder for him than it was for you. He knew that he needed to continue to work on divulging to you often and regularly of his love, because whenever you did, it filled Roman with the most remarkable and indescribable feeling. The feeling of stability and trust and happiness and the giddy feeling of knowing that the person you love most reciprocates. And Roman wanted most in life for you to feel that same way. 

“I miss you, Rome. I love you so much, but I gotta go,” you said, breaking through his thoughts. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I miss you, too. I love you,” Roman hoped you could hear his sincerity through the phone and your drunken haze. 

When you hummed contently, he knew you had. 

“Bye, baby,” 

“Make sure to text me when you’re back at the hotel, ok?” Roman interjected quickly before you hung up. 

“‘Course, honey. I love you!” and with that, the line went dead. 

Roman still tossed and turned and ached for your presence in his arms, but your short conversation had helped him eventually lull himself to sleep. His dreams were filled with short vignettes of you, sparks and flickers of your face. 

Just after mid-morning on Sunday, you gently stuck your key into the lock of your home’s door. You had texted Roman after you had boarded the plane home and when you landed in Pennsylvania, but you had yet to get a response. You were hopeful it was because your high strung boyfriend was still asleep, something you knew he needed.

After your over the phone heart to heart in the early hours of Saturday morning, Roman still only got fitful rest. Saturday night was much of the same, as he sent you a litany of text messages, ranging from attempts to sext to requests for Netflix show recommendations. You were beginning to feel slightly guilty for the sleep you were able to get on your hotel queen, but you mainly accredited your ability to fall into the grip of slumber from the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed over the weekend. Even now, the effects of the alcohol still had you in a clutches. With sunglasses perched high on your nose and four Tylenol simmering in your stomach, all you wanted to do was finally be back in Roman’s arms and kiss him wherever your lethargic lips could reach. 

Once you had opened the door, you heaved your suitcases over the threshold and set your keys in the crystal dish that held Roman’s as well. You stretched your arms over your head with a squeaky moan, and inhaled deeply the smell of your home. There was something so comforting about coming home, no matter the extent of time away, and smelling the scent that your living space held. The smell that your senses accommodated to, the smell that you didn’t notice every day. Your and Roman’s shared home smelt like warm fabric softened linen and Roman’s favorite pine candle he had a stockpile of. It smelled like a hint of lemon from Anna’s disinfectant and a tad like cigarette smoke that lingered on Roman’s clothes. It smelled like Roman’s wafting cologne that made your knees buckle and your stomach flutter, and you swore you could smell your own in the air somewhere too. Maybe Roman had sprayed it in the air to comfort himself? You wouldn’t ask him if it was true, but it made you smile anyhow. 

You made your way deeper into the house, headed for the kitchen in search of a Gardorade and a granola bar before you went up to join Roman in your bedroom. Though as you rounded the corner to look into the living room, you were surprised to find Roman splayed out on the couch. Folded underneath his head was his pillow from upstairs, and draped over his lanky limbs was the thick duvet from the guest bedroom. The excess fabric pooled on the floor next to him, most of it having slipped off his body. 

Your heart thudded in your chest as you looked at him. His plump lips were spread and his jaw was lax. One of his arms was thrown over his head and the other over the back of the couch, while one of his legs had fallen off the cushions, causing his foot to lay flat on the floor. He must have been running on fumes for him to be so deep under while laying on the stiff designer couch so loosely. 

After a few more moments of admiring him, you decided to obtain your food before you went to wake him. Of course you had the option to leave him be, but you knew when he woke he would be angry if you came home and didn’t. That, and you wanted to be in his attention, even if it was just two and half days, you had missed him. 

With a few bites of your granola bar chased down by Gatorade, you walked over to Roman. You set your items down on the coffee table as you knelt next to his head. His nose scarcely scrunched and his eyelids twitched. You placed a gentle kiss to all three and he started to stir. 

“Roman? C’mon, wake up,” you whispered, brushing back a curled piece of his hair that had fallen on his forehead, “I’m home.” 

He let out a throaty groan as his eyes fought to flutter open. His adams apple bobbed and he pursed his lips before his beautiful emerald green eyes were revealed to you between languide blinks.

“Hey,” you grinned, finger combing his hair, “you finally get some sleep?” 

“(Y/N)? How long have you been home?” he asked, voice graveled from slumber. 

“Not even five minutes.”

“And you didn’t wake me?” 

“I’m waking you now,” you smiled, gripping his hair playfully. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, his arms that had been flung behind his head coming to grip you waist, “come here. C’mere, c’mere, c’mere.” 

You giggled as Roman grappled you with sleep soaked limbs to pull you on top of him. When he did, he brought his other arm down to snake around you, keeping you firmly to his body. You moved your hands up to cup his jaw, kissing him listlessly on his cheeks. 

“I missed you. Oh, I missed you,” you uttered and Roman’s arms tightening. 

“Fuck, God fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much,” Roman keened sleepily. 

You were sure he was being more candid because of how tired he was, but you didn’t care. 

“You’re never leaving again, ok? Never leavin’ my side again. Taking you everywhere with me from now on,” his hand skirted underneath the hem of your sweatshirt, his finger eagerly exploring your missed skin, “never letting you leave my sight.” 

“I’m ok with that,” you purred in his ear, kissing him with finality on his lips, “I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not.” 

Roman gave you a heavy lidded expression of pure bliss, “You make me happy.” 

“You make me happy, too.” 

You smiled down at him and propted yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him, “Let’s go upstairs, baby. Our bed is better than this couch.” 

“Nah,” he groused, pushing you back down to his chest with a huff, “just here, just like this. Too tired to move.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, things are better now anyway.” 

Your cheeks ached from smiling as you nuzzled your nose to the column of his neck and Roman’s chest rumbled with happiness. 

Roman’s fingertips pressed into your back with comforting pressure and his other hand moved down to slip into the back of the waistband of your pants to feel the skin of your ass. 

He felt such a flood of contentment, he wondered just how he had survived at all these past few days without his fix of your skin, your smell, your kisses and you. He buried his face into your hair and ignored the way some of it found its way into his nose as he inhaled. He ignored the kink in his neck and the pain in his shoulders and the fact that he had accidentally ripped down the blinds in the bedroom the night before. Because now, nothing else mattered except you. Roman wished he could tell you just how he felt, all about this feeling. He wished he could tell you how he loved you with the entirety of his being and that you truly made him happier than anything else in the world. He hoped he figured it out soon, but for now, he knew this was enough. 

i hope you enjoyed! if so, i would love to hear your feedback (-:  and i know i am overloading you on fluff, but a very angsty story is in the works!

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Flying Lessons - Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

Requested @dogmom2014: Can I request a reader x draco fic Where Draco teaches reader to fly on a broomstick? Everything goes well till reader gets hurt , Draco blames himself and takes care of reader ?

A/N: Not a long post but it’s super cute!

Requests are open!

Harry Potter Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists 

Word Count: 1,443

Warnings: Fluff, accident, language, broken bones, Draco saving the day!!

“You’re a what?” You asked the platinum-haired boy for probably the fifth time since he told you his secret. 

“I’m a Wizard. I graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he answers for the fifth time. 

“So you mean you cast spells and do other kinds of magic?” You ask, still trying to wrap your mind around what he said. 

“Yes, I have for years. Hogwarts taught us how to perform magic and how to defend our kind from outsiders,” 

“Like me,” you frown knowing it could possibly be dangerous for you to be around him and he could turn his back on you in an instant.

“No sweetheart, not you, never you. You’re my best girl,” he says, walking to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

You had met Draco out in town one night when you had gotten off work and a few men started following you home. Keeping your keys in your hand, you quickly walk to your car, and just before anyone got too close, a mysterious figure appeared out of the night and stepped in front of you, and fought the perpetrators off. A bright light with a greenish hue had blinded you for a few moments until the men were all on the ground. Opening your eyes fully, you see a silhouette of a hooded figure that slowly approaches you. You panicked but were somehow injured from the blast of light that you couldn’t move.

“Hello, I don’t mean to frighten you but I’m here to help,” he spoke in a soft voice and bent down to look at you. 

When you made eye contact, you were stunned by the blue of his eyes, which sparkled like two sapphires, and the look on his face was worrisome like he was afraid something worse was going to happen. You nodded slowly and began to straighten up, as the mysterious man helped you to your feet and tend to your wounds. 

As time went on and your friendship with Draco only got stronger, you learned that he had a very heavy burden that was laid on his shoulders at a young age. Having to follow along with his family's decisions and not make any of his own was a sad state of affairs for a teenager. He grew up carrying a tremendous weight and expectation that when he graduated from school and was able to make his own decisions, he decided he wanted to be his own person, not some pawn that his father could use in his game. You could see hurt in his eyes and in his demeanor but he was sweet and caring like he wanted to be different than he was brought up to be. 

“So can you fly?” You ask, asking more questions to your best friend, as you wonder more about his secret. 

“Yes I can, I fly with a broom,” he says and you just laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks as he laughs with you.

“You sound like a witch we’ve heard stories about as kids,” you say. You were a human, nothing more special than that. Draco told you, you were called a Muggle and that was a word you didn’t like. 

“Oh you mean the old ladies with the green faces and warts on her face?” he questions, knowing exactly the types of stories you were referring to. 

“Yes, exactly!” You say, laughing even harder until you had an idea. “Wait, could you teach me how to fly?”

“You wanna know how to fly?” 

“Yes, I would love to be able to fly! Come on, that’s one thing just about every human dream about; please?”

“Oh I can’t say no to you,” he says and you smirk at your success. 

Draco had led you to an open field, making sure no one was around, due to how most humans react to seeing magic and showing you what to do. 

“Okay you need to grip the stick firmly and wrap one leg around to one side,” Draco said as he demonstrated what he meant. 

He motioned for you to join him and just as you followed what he instructed, he told you to hold on and at first, you didn’t know what he meant until suddenly, you couldn’t feel the earth beneath your feet. You wrap your arms around his midsection as you feel the wind blowing on your face and in your hair. At first, you’re too scared to look up but with a small encouragement from Draco, you finally lean back just the slightest bit to see the world slowly flying past you. Your first flying trip wasn’t too long but then it was your turn to learn. 

“Okay, are you ready to go out there on your own?” Draco asked.

“Totally!” You exclaim as you mount your boom the way Draco told you.

He kept a close eye on you as you began to gain momentum until the wind ended up blowing in a different direction and you lost control as the strength only increased. The sound of your scream pierced right through Draco’s ears. 

“(Y/N)!” He yells at the broom thrashes you around in different directions.

“Help, Draco!” You yell, gripping the broom with all your might and hoping you wouldn’t fall but just as you started wishing for a safe landing, the broom suddenly came to a crash landing, thanks to a spell provided by Draco. He rushes over to your side and throws the broom away from you. You scream in agony, your injuries unknown, but still worrisome to Draco. 

“(Y/N) hey, hey, look at me, I know it hurts, but I’m going to take care of this, I promise,” he coos as he looks you over, seeing one of your legs turned in an inhumane way. 

“It hurts, Draco,” you cry, as he continues to look you over. 

“I know love, I am so sorry, but I’m going to fix it,” he says, pulling his wand out of his jacket, and drawing a shape as he says a spell.

“Brackium Emendo!” He says and you feel your leg start to feel a lot better and straighten itself up. 

“Did...did you just…” You stutter out, unable to fully understand what just happened. 

“Yes, I healed you but you still won’t be able to move around too much. Recovery is always a process. I am so sorry this happened. I knew you weren’t going to be safe on your own after just one lesson,” Draco says but you stop him. 

“Draco, this was my choice. I thought I could handle it and I’m an adult. It was my decision, not yours,” you say. 

“I know, but I should’ve tried harder to stop you,” he said. 

“Do you really think I would’ve listened? I’m stubborn, one of your favorite things about me, remember? 

“Of course I do and I know, but I knew better and this was my fault,” He says.

“It was my fault too. I knew I wasn’t ready either but I….” you trail off. 

“You were what?” He asked. 

“I was trying to make you like me by showing you I knew how to fly. I’ve heard the old stories of how magical beings aren’t supposed to like humans of a nonmagical quality so I thought if I learned how to fly, maybe you would like me more,” you explained. 

Draco didn’t say anything but walked over to you, held your face in his hands, and placed his lips down on yours. You were a bit stunned at first but fell into it when you realized this was real and you weren’t dreaming. 

When you pulled away from one another, he had kept his hands on either side of your face and made sure you were paying attention. 

“Yes, we are trained to not like nonmagical beings but you my dear, do not have to worry about that. I like you very much and I thought I had made myself clear about that earlier. Since you still had questioned my intentions with you, I thought this would change everything,” he said. 

“Yeah, I think I understand now,” you say, smiling up at him. 

“Good, now let me take you back to my flat where I can spend the next week or so taking care of you and making you feel better,” he says, going to wrap an arm underneath your legs, carrying you like that of a bride on her wedding night. 

“As long as you stop blaming yourself for this accident, I’m all yours,” you bargain with him. 

“You got yourself a deal.”

[maxwell-grant]

What are your thoughts on Jekyll/Hyde and his archetype of the human periodically changing into a monster ?

Jekyll & Hyde was the 2nd horror story I read following Frankenstein, I got it off the same library and it always stuck very strongly with me even before I got into horror in general. I even dressed up as Jekyll/Hyde as a kid for a school fair by shredding a lab coat on one side and asking my sister to make-up claw gashes on my exposed arm and paint half of my face, although in hindsight I think I ended up looking more like Doctor Two-Face than Jekyll/Hyde, but I was 12 and didn't have any Victorian clothing to use so I had to make do. The first film project I tried doing at film school was intended to be a modern take on Jekyll & Hyde, and I didn't get much farther than a couple of discarded scripts

Much like Frankenstein, Mr Hyde as a character and a story is something that's kind of baked into everything I do artistically. And it's not just me, as even in pop culture itself, none of us can escape Mr Hyde. I would go so far as to argue Mr Hyde may be the single most significant character created by victorian fiction, if only by the sheer impact and legacy the character's had.

(Fan-art by guilhermefranco)

Part of what makes Mr Hyde such a powerful and lasting icon of pop culture is that the very premise of the book invites a personal reading that's gonna vary from person to person. Because everyone's familiar with the basic twist of the story, that it's a conflict of duality, of the good and evil sides, but everyone has a more personal idea of what those entail. Some people make the story more about class. A lot of readings laser-focus on sex and lust as the driving force, and there's also a lot of readings of Mr Hyde that tackle it to explore a more gendered perspective, and so forth.

I don't particularly take much notice of the Jekyll & Hyde adaptations partially because the novel's premise and themes have become baked so throughly into pop culture and explored in so many different and interesting ways, that I'm not particularly starving for good Jekyll & Hyde adaptations the way I am for Dracula and Frankenstein. The Fredric March film in particular is one that orbits my head less because of the film itself (although I do recommend it), but because of one specific scene, and that's when Jekyll first transforms into Hyde on screen.

Out of all the things they could have shown him doing right that second, they instead took the time to show him enjoying the rain.

Just Hyde taking off his hat and letting it all cascade on his face with this sheer enthusiasm like he's never been to the rain before, never enjoyed it before, and now that he's free from being Jekyll, he gets to enjoy life like he never has before. It's such an oddly humanizing moment to put amidst a horror movie, in the scene where you're ostensibly introducing the monster to the audience, and it makes such a stark contrast to the rest of the film where Hyde is completely irredeemable, but I think it's that contrast that makes the film's take on Hyde work so well even with it's diverging from the source material, even if I don't particularly like in general interpretations of Hyde that are focused on a sexual aspect.

Because one, it understands that Jekyll was fundamentally a self-serving coward and not a paragon of goodness, and two, it also understands one of the things that makes Hyde scary: He wants what all of us want, to live and be happy. He's happy when he leaves the lab and dances around in the rain like a giddy child, he's happy when he goes to places Jekyll couldn't dream of showing up, he's happy as a showgirl-abusing sexual predator. Hyde is all wants, all the time, and there's not that much difference between his wants, his domineering possessiveness, and the likes exhibited by Muriel's father and Jekyll's own within the very same film, which also works to emphasize one of the other ideas of the original story, that Edward Hyde doesn't come from nowhere. That no monster is closer to humanity than Mr Hyde, because he is us. He is the thing that Jekyll refused to take responsability for until it was too late.

(Art by LorenzoMastroianni)

While many of the ideas that defined Mr Hyde had already been explored in pop culture beforehand, Hyde popularized and redefined many of them in particular by modernizing the idea. He was the werewolf, the doppelganger, The Player On The Other Side, except he came from within. He was not transformed by circumstance, he made himself that way, and the elixir merely brought out something already inside his soul. To acknowledge that he's there is to acknowledge that he is you, and to not do that is to either lose to him, or perish. Hyde was there to address both the rot settling in Victorian society as well as grappling concerns over Darwinian heritage, of the realization that man has always had the beast inside of him (it's no accident that Hyde's main method of murder is by clubbing people to death with his cane like a caveman).

I've already argued on my post about Tarzan that the Wild Man archetype, beginning with Enkidu of The Epic of Gilgamesh, is the in-between man and beast, between superhero and monster, and that Mr Hyde is an essential component of the superhero's trajectory, as the creature split in between. That stories about dual personalities, doppelgangers, the duality of the soul, the hero with a day job and an after dark career, you can pinpoint Hyde as a turning point in how all of these solidified gradually in pop culture. And I've argued otherwise that The Punisher, for all that his image and narrative points otherwise, is ultimately just as much of a superhero as the rest of them, even if no one wants to admit it, drawing a parallel between The Punisher and Mr Hyde. And he's far from the only modern character that can invite this kind of parallel.

The idea of a regular person periodically or permanently transforming into, or revealing itself to be, something extraordinary and fantastic and scary, grappling with the divide it causes in their soul, and questions whether it's a new development or merely the truest parts of themselves coming to light at last, and the effects this transformation has for good and bad alike. The idea of a potent, dangerous, unpredictable enemy who ultimately is you, or at least a facet of you and what you can do. That these are bound to destroy each other if not reconciled with or overcome.

You know what are my thoughts on the archetype of "human periodically changing into a monster" are? Look around you and you're gonna see the myriad ways The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde's themes have manifested in the century and a half since the story's release. Why it shouldn't be any surprise whatsoever that Mr Hyde has become such an integral part of pop culture, in it's heroes and monsters alike. Why we can never escape Mr Hyde, just as Jekyll never could.

It is Nixon himself who represents that dark, venal and incurably violent side of the American character that almost every country in the world has learned to fear and despise. Our Barbie-doll president, with his Barbie-doll wife and his boxful of Barbie-doll children is also America's answer to the monstrous Mr. Hyde.

He speaks for the Werewolf in us; the bully, the predatory shyster who turns into something unspeakable, full of claws and bleeding string-warts on nights when the moon comes too close… - Hunter S. Thompson

There is a scene in the movie Pulp Fiction that explains almost every terrible thing happening in the news today. And it's not the scene where Ving Rhames shoots that guy's dick off. It's the part where the hit man played by John Travolta is talking about how somebody vandalized his car, and says this:

"Boy, I wish I could've caught him doing it. I'd have given anything to catch that asshole doing it. It'd been worth him doing it, just so I could've caught him doing it."

That last sentence is something everyone should understand about mankind. After all, the statement is completely illogical -- revenge is supposed to be about righting a wrong. But he wants to be wronged, specifically so he'll have an excuse to get revenge. We all do.

Why else would we love a good revenge movie? We sit in a theater and watch Liam Neeson's daughter get kidnapped. We're not sad about it, because we know he's a badass and he finally has permission to be awesome. Not a single person in that theater was rooting for it to all be an innocent misunderstanding. We wanted Liam to be wronged, because we wanted to see him kick ass. It's why so many people walk around with vigilante fantasies in their heads.

Long, long ago, the people in charge figured out that the easiest and most reliable way to bind a society together was by controlling and channeling our hate addiction. That's the reason why seeing hurricane wreckage on the news makes us mumble "That's sad" and maybe donate a few bucks to the Red Cross hurricane fund, while 9/11 sends us into a decade-long trillion-dollar rage that leaves the Middle East in flames.

The former was caused by wind; the latter was caused by monsters. The former makes us kind of bummed out; the latter gets us high.

It's easy to blame the news media for pumping us full of stories of mass shootings and kidnapped children, but that's stopping one step short of the answer: The media just gives us what we want. And what we want is to think we're beset on all sides by monsters.

The really popular stories will always feature monsters that are as different from us as possible. Think about Star Wars -- what real shithead has ever referred to himself as being on "the dark side"? In Harry Potter and countless fantasy universes, you have wizards working in "black magic" and the "dark arts." Can you imagine a scientist developing some technology for chemical weapons or invasive advertising openly thinking of what he does as "dark science"? Can you imagine a real world leader naming his headquarters "The Death Star" or "Mount Doom"?

Of course not. But we need to believe that evil people know they're evil, or else that would open the door to the fact that we might be evil without knowing it. I mean, sure, maybe we've bought chocolate that was made using child slaves or driven cars that poisoned the air, but we didn't do it to be evil -- we were simply doing whatever we felt like and ignoring the consequences. Not like Hitler and the bankers who ruined the economy and those people who burned the kittens -- they wake up every day intentionally dreaming up new evils to create. It's not like Hitler actually thought he was saving the world.

So no matter how many times you vote to cut food stamps and then use the money to buy a boat, you could still be way worse. You could, after all, be one of those murdering / lazy / ignorant / greedy / oppressive monsters that you know the world is full of, and that only your awesome moral code prevents you from turning into at any moment. And those monsters are out there.

They have to be. Because otherwise, we're the monsters - 5 Reasons Humanity Desperately Wants Monsters To Be Real, by Jason Pargin

(Two-Face sequence comes from the end of Batman Annual #14: Eye of the Beholder)

For good or bad, Hyde has become omnipresent. He's a part of our superheroes, he's a part of our supervillains, he's in our monsters. He lives and prattles in our ears, sometimes we need him to survive, and sometimes we become Hyde even when we don't need to, because our survival instincts or base cruelties or desperation brings out the worst in us. Sometimes we can beat him, and sometimes he's not that bad. Sometimes we do need to appease him and listen to what he says, about us and the world around us. And sometimes we need to do so specifically to prove him wrong and beat him again.

But he never, ever goes away, as he so accurately declares in the musical

Do you really think That I would ever let you go...

Do you think I'd ever set you free?

If you do, I'm sad to say It simply isn't so

You will never get away FROM MEEEEEE

(Art by Akreon on Artstation)

[seita]

― 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝘀𝗮𝗵𝗶 + 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲. ˒ 𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘪.

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍.  

𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁: 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗁𝖼 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗁𝗂 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾?

⤿ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱.  

+ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗂 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌, 𝗂 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗁𝗂. 𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋!

― 𝗮𝘀𝗮𝗵𝗶 𝗮𝘇𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗲.

≻ it was no secret that asahi was a big man. ≻ despite that, he had a sweet, tender heart ≻ and very rarely did he ever actually lose control of his emotions. ≻ the especially extended to the bedroom. ≻ most assumed asahi was a soft, submissive man. ≻ or they thought he was a terrifying delinquent who had been to jail. ≻ while it was true he was sweet and soft, he was anything but submissive. ≻ he would never, in a million years, dream of hurting you ≻ but sometimes he got so lost in the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock, he couldn’t help but pound your pretty hole until you were were screaming for him. ≻ he almost always felt apologetic and overly apologetic, however. ≻ so he was the type of dom who went all out for after care ≻ even if there was absolutely no need to do so ≻ he was a bit of a worry wart ≻ and he’d feel kind of sad if you didn’t allow him to take care of you after fucking you so roughly ≻ so just let him and he’ll be a happy bean ≻ he usually started off the aftercare with a soft discussion of what had happened, what you did and didn’t like ≻ then, after some cuddling to lower your heart rates and settle your endorphins, he’d set a bath up for you. ≻ sometimes he’d join you and other times he’d whip up something for you to eat. ≻ after that, depending on the time, either you’d both go to bed or watch some tv/movies together until it was time to sleep.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

© 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗮 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟬. 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗱���𝗳𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁.  

[ironmandeficiency]

I saw y'all discussing potential zodiac signs for Pascal's characters, what's your take on the major ones? I personally believe Marcus Pike is a cancer, Catfish's a pisces, Din's a virgo, Whiskey's an aries, Oberyn's either a leo or a libra, Ezra's a gemini or a sag, but I lean towards gemini. Javier's the poster child for Scorpio. Don't know about Maxwell Lord.

pedro character star signs

i’m so sorry it took so long, i was tweaking this so much bc i wanted to make sure i got it right! these are just what i think based on my astrology opinions, i hope you like it! 💕 i added their moon signs for flair bc i can. gonna tag a few friends i think may be interested, hope it’s not an inconvenience

max phillips: aries sun & moon. his ambition and charisma paired with the carefree attitude and optimism are an optimum fire sign duality and despite the fact i shouldn't, i love it so much. he has an inner child that he spoils with the riches of his conquests (good and bad) & gets emotional contentment when he succeeds in achieving his goals. knows what he wants & is quick to make those wants known. you never have to worry about where you stand with him because he will not hesitate to tell you.

javier peña: taurus sun with scorpio moon (the real guy is a taurus & i can see it but w heavy scorpio influence). he has his own structure and routine and will fight to the death to maintain it. very work oriented & does his best to rationalize his emotion-driven scorpio moon with his taurean logic, it's a tossup as to whether it works half the time. has a lot of emotional needs that aren't always met day to day & thats why he smokes and drinks and fucks. but don’t let anything make you doubt his love for you because the only thing stronger than his stubborn streak is his heart and its capacity to love you so damn much.

maxwell lord: libra sun with a sagittarius moon. the charisma? attractive and engaging af. oddly adept at chameleoning himself into whatever social group he's trying to vibe with. will draw eyes no matter what because so many people know him & if they don't already, they sure as hell want to. it takes him a while to learn to balance healthy relationships and his work life but when he does, you can visibly see how much healthier he is because of it. normally tends to his emotions in private but with help, he can start sharing a bit more. more optimistic than he sometimes should be but it could be worse

frankie morales: pisces sun with a cancer moon. his caring and sometimes cautious nature (with a twinge of homicidal tendencies) make him one that you don't just casually fuck with sexually or otherwise. catches feelings very easy & makes a lot of emotionally-driven decisions. these two water signs have a propensity towards codependence & defensiveness when hurt. is at his best when he feels loved and is supported by those he loves. emotions are always fluctuating and there’s some trouble with self-discipline (which is not the same as self-deprecation). because of this, he needs someone who can ground him

jack "whiskey" daniels: his swagger!! his charm!! his generosity!! the protectiveness over people he cares about!! this has the makings of a leo sun. this charismatic sun sign paired with his capricorn moon create a living example of the most balanced "work hard, play hard" you've ever seen. has a tendency to set high standards for himself and others & is a smidge more accepting when people fuck up, wanting to help them be better in the future. his emotions are often repressed in the name of responsibility but when he feels safe, he isn’t shy about them in the slightest. very confident in his skills & one of those that he’s the proudest of is his ability to cheer you up when you’re sad

din djarin: he is the most virgo virgo to ever virgo, a double whammy of it in both his sun & moon placements. very logical, disciplined, and tradition-oriented. knows how to bargain and budget, approaches problems with as little emotional attachment as he can (doesn't always work though), and is selfless af. needs something to keep him from being a worry wart bc otherwise he will spend every waking moment fretting over anything he can find. remarkably well-rounded & somehow the most emotionally stable

ezra: everything about this man radiates aquarius sun + gemini moon and you will never convinve me otherwise. he's just enough of an intellectual elitist (the big words and flowy shakespearian vocabulary) for it to border on unique and fun & annoying as fuck. every aquarian i've met has a quirk that sets them apart from everyone else & ezra's quirk (besides murder) is his vocabulary. it takes him a long time to learn to not talk over people on accident (sometimes he does on purpose just to be a bastard), but you can tell when he’s really trying to be conscious of it.

marcus moreno: now this man is what you call a pisces. a softie with a heart of gold that is constantly being underestimated, he has more power than most think. his silly and carefree nature detracts from the badassery he's capable of so it sometimes catches you off guard when he goes into Badass In Charge™️ mode but it’s there. his moon is also in pisces, which adds to his gentility and desire to be understood by his partner. this man just needs some love dammit, give it to him already!! his empathy makes him the Cool Dad™️ bc missy and literally any other kid get the vibe of “yeah this adult will actually listen to me and value my opinions”

dave: capricorn sun, aries moon. he thrives with people who can handle their own shit competency kink anyone? and doesn’t have patience with those who should know better. his standards are higher than a stoned giraffe, and is at his best in controlled environments. has a strong sense of self & a short list of people he would risk it all for. not as outwardly expressive but he does have a couple cues that you learn over time. also knows what he wants and is very meticulous in how he goes about getting it; there are very few places where he takes no for an answer. is a very good provider but don’t expect him to be mushy when you thank him for things he does for you.

oberyn martell: gemini sun & leo moon. he’s got more charisma than can fit in the ocean and sometimes it gets him into trouble. this man thrives on validation from loved ones. there is never a worry about not knowing what he’s feeling because oh boy is this man expressive. he’s a protector and a provider (and a gossip but don’t let him hear you say that). can and will cause a scene if there’s ample opportunity, he enjoys watching shit go down. will only interfere if it directly impacts him or someone he really cares about but otherwise will just pop the popcorn and pull up a seat. somehow has all the details of everything that ever happens but you learn to not question it.

pero tovar: scorpio sun (but specifically october scorpio) & aquarius moon. he’s highly rational when it comes to emotions but does have a temper. he’s observant af of his environment & the emotions of everyone around him, and chooses his actions carefully based on those. doesn’t confront his deeper emotions as often as he should bc it’s easier to default to Angy™️ and let the rest of the world come to their own assumptions. has no tolerance for lies and other bs, wants the truth and though it makes him seem power-hungry and manipulative, that’s not his intention. it’s just his way of looking for someone he can trust with the most intimate parts of him

marcus pike: this man? taurus sun, cancer moon. has a fear of abandonment that takes a while to quell but once it’s gone, he’s all in. he’s very empathetic and observant af, will know exactly what you need before you voice said need. will feel guilty for his baggage sometimes and the guilt will make him recluse for a short period until he’s reminded just how appreciated he is. does not play around when it comes to affection & is very eager to give and receive it whenever possible

my friends that i think might be interested: @scribbledghost @autumnleaves1991-blog @dyke--grayson @max--phillips @dindjarindiaries @pikemoreno @ohnopoe @pedropasscals @forever-rogue @engineeredfiction @bitchin-beskar