#sorry if this comes off mean I just literally cannot control the rate at which I feel guilty HA

[angelpuns]

urgh I'm nearly finished sketching chapter 13, it's taking forever cause raghh this part is difficult to draw and work has me tuckered out emotionally and physically. hopefully I'll be able to start lining either tomorrow night or Thursdayyyy

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[insaneoldme]

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

���Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone! 

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

[morganaspendragonss]

Hello, fic request coming through if you are still doing them! Okay, Carlos has not been feeling well so he stays in and doesn't go to his shift. TK still has his shift, so he wants to stay with Carlos to keep an eye on him but Carlos says he is fine. TK is uneasy at work just wants to go back home, he calls Carlos but he is not answering. Tommy says TK can go check up on Carlos, while he is at home, he finds Carlos in bed and when he goes closer, Carlos is not breathing. Paramedic!TK coming through. Super angst ensues but Carlos makes it in the end after some time in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 25: heaving through corrupted lungs

thank you for the prompt!

thanks also to @noxsoulmate for the beta! 💚

ao3 | 2.9k | major character illness, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, brief references to past, canonical character death

“Strand, I know we’re not on a call right now, but you could at least pretend to be focused.”

TK flushes as Tommy’s somewhat less-than amused voice reaches him from the back of the ambulance. He hurriedly locks his phone and shoves it in the glove compartment, though not before checking every messaging app he has for word from Carlos.

There’s none, of course, just like it’s been all day. Logically, he knows Carlos is probably sleeping—god knows he needs it—but that isn’t going to stop him from worrying, or from sending check-up texts every ten minutes. It does, however, stop Carlos from answering, which isn’t very conducive to TK’s ability to concentrate on work today.

“Sorry, Cap,” he says. “It’s just—”

“Carlos is sick and you’re being paranoid, as usual,” Nancy chimes in, audibly rolling her eyes from the driver’s seat. “Look, dude, if he said he’s fine, then he’s probably fine.”

“Well, I’m the paramedic in the relationship, and I say he’s not fine.” TK sighs and forces himself to resist the urge to pull out his phone again. “Carlos likes to lecture me about hiding injuries, but he’s exactly the same when he’s ill; he could be on death’s door and still saying he’s okay. But he hasn’t said anything today, so I’m worried.”

“You’re always worried about him.”

“Welcome to relationships,” Tommy comments. “Seriously though, TK, are you going to be okay to finish this shift? There’s still ten hours to go and we cannot afford for you to be distracted out there.”

TK doesn’t answer right away; on one hand, he’s itching to go home and check on Carlos, to make sure he’s still breathing and actually resting like he’s supposed to be. On the other hand, Carlos would probably kill him if he left work, illness be damned. It’s just… Carlos had looked so ill that morning, skin ashen and voice all but gone, and it had taken a lot of convincing for TK to still go to his own shift. He’d insisted on making sure Carlos had all the blankets and water and snacks and anything else he could possibly want, but even so, he’s still uneasy.

His gut is telling him that something’s wrong, and TK doesn’t think he can ignore it for much longer.

He’s staring out the window, considering his options, when he realises that he knows these streets. Like, actually knows them. They’re right around the corner from his and Carlos’s home, and an idea strikes TK like a lightning bolt.

“Hey, Cap?” he asks, twisting around in his seat to look at her. “How about we take a lunch break now instead of driving all the way back to the station? There’s a great place nearby, and it’s less likely that we’ll be interrupted by a call before we get food.”

Tommy eyes him suspiciously, clearly not buying his innocent act. “What are you talking about, TK?”

“Mine and Carlos’s place is literally two streets away; we could drop by and I could check in on him and make sure he’s okay. Plus,” he continues, already spotting the argument on Tommy’s face, “I’m not lying about the food. Carlos cooks in bulk, so we’ve got loads of leftover casserole in the freezer.”

Tommy pauses, indecision clear in her expression. She narrows her eyes at TK, scrutinising him. “Will this mean you’ll stop being so distracted?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright.” She sighs and nods, and Nancy switches directions to head towards their home. “I’m holding you to that, Strand.”

TK spends the entire drive, short as it is, drumming his fingers on his knees and trying to keep the ever-growing panic at bay. Carlos is going to be fine.

He has to be.

He jumps out the ambulance before Nancy’s even fully stopped it, cursing himself as he fumbles with his keys. Tommy pats his shoulder soothingly; it doesn’t really calm him down, but TK appreciates the effort and her unconditional support. When he gets inside, he simply waves a hand in the general direction of the freezer, hoping Tommy and Nancy get the message, and barrels upstairs, Carlos’s name bursting from his lips.

“Carlos, babe, you here?” It’s a stupid question; TK had seen the Camaro in the driveway and Carlos is far too ill to want to walk anywhere—or so TK hopes—so he has to be home. But the silence draws out, and TK’s heart is pounding a mile a minute by the time he reaches the door to their bedroom.

“Carlos?” He pushes open the door, sighing in relief when he sees his fiancé sprawled across the bed, dead to the world. It’s a little weird that he hasn’t woken up yet given how loud TK was shouting, but it’s probably just because his body needs the rest. TK would bet that the apocalypse could happen outside the window and Carlos wouldn’t so much as stir.

He tip-toes towards the bed, a soft smile spreading across his lips as anxiety gives way to fondness and love. It’s not until he’s within touching distance of Carlos that he registers just how still he is; just how silent the room is.

This morning, Carlos’s breathing was loud and harsh, punctuated with periodic sniffs and coughs.

Now, he’s not making a sound.

And, as TK drops to his knees and bends over his fiancé’s body, he realises that his chest isn’t moving.

Carlos isn’t breathing.

The panic is back in full force as TK frantically presses his fingers to Carlos’s pulse point, praying for something—a flutter, anything—to indicate that Carlos isn’t… That he’s not…

There’s nothing.

Instinct takes over, TK linking his hands on Carlos’s chest and starting compressions even as his vision blurs with tears and he chokes on the sobs building in his throat.

“Cap!” he yells, not taking his eyes off Carlos. “Cap, up here!”

A minute later, Tommy and Nancy burst into the room, both halting in shock for a moment before jumping into action. Nancy moves to the other side of the bed, already pulling out the ambu bag, while Tommy comes to stand by TK.

“What do we have?” she asks, professional as ever, though there’s a clear worried undertone to her voice.

“No pulse, no respiration,” he manages, voice thick. “Skin is warm to the touch. No clear cause, but patient was congested and moderately feverish during the past few days.”

Tommy nods and gently pushes at TK’s shoulder. “Alright, you did good, TK, but you should let us take over now,” she says gently. “Come on, Nancy and I can handle this.”

TK ignores her, continuing compressions with renewed force. “I have to help him, Cap. I have to.”

“And you have, but now—”

“No!” Later, TK will be ashamed of the way he lost control like that, and he’ll have to apologise to Tommy, but the only thing he can really, truly focus on now is Carlos. He keeps pushing, feeling Carlos’s ribs give under his hands, and forces himself to keep going even though his stomach turns at the idea of causing him any pain. “Come on, baby,” he mutters. “Come on, Carlos, please.”

Time is running out; TK can tell by the way the silence is starting to feel heavier and heavier, by the looks he knows Tommy and Nancy must be exchanging over his head. Carlos’s time is running out, and TK is staring down a future he doesn’t know he can survive, and—

“I have a pulse!” Nancy shouts, and the words don’t register in TK’s head until Tommy’s hands are forcibly pulling him back and Carlos’s chest is moving and his eyelids start to flutter.

Tommy slides into the space left by TK, practiced hands checking Carlos’s vitals. “Carlos, can you hear me?”

She gets no response save for a weak groan, then Carlos’s body goes slack again and his head lolls limply on the pillow. TK takes a panicked step forward, but he’s just as quickly pushed back as Tommy secures an oxygen mask over Carlos’s face.

“Nancy, get the backboard and the gurney ready. Heart rate is arrhythmic and respiration is laboured; radio Austin Memorial and get their cardiac unit on standby.”

Nancy dashes out of the bedroom, and Tommy grabs her own radio. “Dispatch, this is RA 126 responding to a cardiac event at 2204 Allred Drive. Patient is unconscious and breathing, however at the time of arrival, he was in cardiac arrest. Duration unknown.”

“Copy that, RA 126.”

Nancy arrives with the backboard, and TK feels like an invisible observer as he watches his two teammates work. He’s stuck, barely breathing, as he watches Carlos struggle and fight for his life; he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he dies, here and now.

TK moves as if in a nightmare as they get Carlos down the stairs and into the ambulance, eyes constantly locked on his fiancé. He thinks Tommy might say something to him, but he doesn’t hear it and he doesn’t bother to ask—terrible as it is to admit, he doesn’t care right now. He can’t care; there’s no more room inside him for anything else but Carlos.

He wraps a hand around Carlos’s wrist, two fingers resting on his pulse point, and prays that he’ll never have to feel that absence again.

*

Tommy sits beside him in the waiting room, a silent show of support while they wait for news on Carlos. Or until they catch another call; whichever comes first. Nancy is…somewhere. TK thinks she might have gone to grab some coffee or a snack, but he honestly has no idea. He’s kind of lost track of things, the hospital’s plain white walls turning time into water as they wait, and wait, and wait.

“I know how you feel, you know,” Tommy says, unprompted. “The night that Charles died, I… I spent so long blaming myself. I wasn’t there, you know? And I just kept thinking that if I had been there, if I hadn’t stayed out at Grace and Judd’s, then I might have been able to do something to save him.” She levels him with a firm, yet motherly look, and TK drops his gaze to the floor. “I know now that there was nothing. It kills me to admit it, but what happened would have happened either way, and it’s the same here. Carlos is young, healthy—there was no reason to suspect anything might happen. Certainly nothing like this. You did everything that you could, TK, and you have to hold onto that, no matter what the outcome.”

TK squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, giving up on keeping the tears at bay. Tommy reaches out to wrap one arm around him, but he jerks away, curling in on himself. “It’s not the same,” he whispers, voice thick. “It’s not— I knew, Cap. I knew he was ill and I still left him.”

“You said you guys thought it was just a bad cold.”

“No, I knew. I’m a paramedic, how could I have missed this?”

“These things happen, TK,” she says softly. “It’s cruel, and it’s senseless, and, more than anything, it’s unavoidable. We can go in circles blaming ourselves for it—and I know it’s worse for us; we think we should be able to see everything because it’s our job, right?

“The thing is, we’re the most blind when it comes to the people we love. We think we see everything and we always worry over them, but ultimately we just want to believe that everything’s going to be okay. That they’re going to be okay. It’s hard to accept when they’re not.”

“I should have done more.”

“You did all you cou—”

“No, I didn’t.” He lets out a sob, twisting away from Tommy’s touch once more when she tries to comfort him. “I should have insisted on staying home; I should have thought about going to check on him earlier. We have no idea how long he was lying there, dead—he was dead, Tommy—before we arrived, but if I had been there then I could have gotten him help.”

TK takes a shuddering breath and looks up at his captain, meeting her eyes for the first time since they were in the ambulance. “Tommy, if he dies, then I swear I’ll never forgive myself. Never.”

Tommy looks like she wants to say more, but just as she opens her mouth, her radio crackles to life. She sighs regretfully but stands, clasping TK’s shoulder gently.

“He’ll be okay, TK. Believe in that.”

*

Looking at Carlos, TK has never believed in anything less. He’s so still and pale on the bed and TK keeps having to check that his chest is still moving, despite the steady beep of the heart monitor and the constant thrum against his fingertips. He hasn’t let go of Carlos’s wrist since he was allowed into the room, and he doesn’t intend to let go until Carlos is back with him, awake and alive and okay.

He’s trying to believe in that outcome as a certainty, but he knows better than that. Carlos might be young and healthy, but the fact still remains that his heart stopped—coming back from that is far from guaranteed.

It’s been three days since the incident, and Carlos’s parents have been in and out, always bringing TK food and trying to engage him in conversation. He tries, for them, but it’s not easy and the attempts always fizzle out before long; TK just doesn’t have it in him anymore to talk and pretend to be positive. Any hope he ever had has abandoned him, the only thing keeping him afloat his grip around Carlos’s wrist.

A tupperware container drops into his lap, and TK looks up to see Andrea standing over him. She reaches across to caress Carlos’s cheek, then sinks into the chair beside TK, giving him a pointed look.

He sighs, attempting a weak smile for her. “I appreciate it, Andrea, but—”

“No,” she interrupts, shaking her head firmly. “No more buts; I won’t hear them. My son might not be able to make sure you take care of yourself, but I am more than capable of taking over for him. I am very strict about food, ask any of his sisters.” Her stern look softens and she pats his arm gently. “Venga, mijo. You’ll feel better for it.”

TK looks down at the dish in his lap, doing his best to keep a grimace off his face. It looks and smells delicious, like all of Andrea’s cooking, but the sight of it makes his stomach turn, his gag reflex activating at the very thought of putting any in his mouth.

“Andrea, I…” He shakes his head and picks the container up with his free hand, handing it back to her. “I can’t.”

And it’s not just that TK can’t handle any food at the moment, though that certainly plays into it.

But they’re tamales.

The Reyes family recipe tamales, passed down through generations, which Carlos has been slowly attempting to teach TK. Which Carlos always makes on special occasions, and sometimes just for the hell of it.

Which Carlos made the night he proposed.

Andrea looks set to argue, but TK forces an end to the conversation by making her take the container and turning back to Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, knowing he’s disappointed her. “It’s just hard.”

She sighs and rubs his back. “I know. Just don’t come to me when Carlos wakes up and realises you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

That almost gets a laugh out of him, and TK looks over to smile at Andrea. It’s a brittle thing, but it’s a smile all the same, which is more than he’s managed in three days. She smiles back at him, and it helps him feel not so alone in all this.

A weak groan is all the warning he gets before, “Are you turning down my mother’s cooking?” reaches his ears, and TK gasps, whipping around to stare at the bed.

Right into Carlos’s eyes.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Hey, baby.” Carlos’s voice is rough and rasping, his eyes fluttering closed again a second later, though TK can tell that he’s still awake. He reaches to the table and pours a cup of water, encouraging Carlos to lift his head and drink through the straw.

“Slow sips, that’s it,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb gently along Carlos’s wrist, still holding on tightly.

Once Carlos has drunk his fill, he opens his eyes again and looks up at TK, gaze searching his face. “I love you,” he rasps, smiling gently, “but did you really just say no to my mom’s tamales?”

TK splutters, but he can’t keep the smile off his own face, shaking his head fondly at Carlos. “I love you too, idiot,” he says. “And tamales don’t taste the same without you there to eat them with me.”

“Good thing I’m here now, then.”

TK hums. “Guess it is.”

(Later, after the nurses and doctors have come and gone, TK will pick up the tub of tamales, left behind by Andrea when she went to tell everyone the good news.

He and Carlos will split one, pressed close together in the bed to avoid getting crumbs on the sheets. Carlos will be smiling at him the entire time, and TK will kiss him over and over, relishing the sensation of Carlos kissing him back.

And it’ll be the best damn tamale TK has ever eaten.)

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Day of the Animals

While perhaps not my favorite episode this season, Day of the Animals is easily the best written story of season three. Even so, it still has problems due to the third season’s poor approach to characterization. 

Summary: Rapunzel, Varian, Angry and Red are returning stolen loot that the two girls had stolen years ago. They are accompanied by Max, Pascal, Ruddiger and Hamuel who all cannot stop quarreling with each other (or in Hamuel's case, just being useless). While messing with a sea shell pendant, it magically transports the humans into it, leaving the animals to fight over it. A minor thug named Dwayne, steals the pendant forcing the animals to work together to retrieve it. 

So Why is a Polynesian Inspired Kingdom Within Riding Distance of a Northern European Country? 

If you’ll remember my review of Beginnings, Neserdina’s princesses were wearing Polynesian garb and dancing the Hula when prepping for the competition. Now I’ve already went into length as to why that’s not good representation, but in addition to that it’s also just plain dumb. You can’t just transport one ethic group and dump them into another part of the world because it’s convenient for you. You don’t earn any brownie points for doing that. Especially when your fantasy world is still based off of our own historical earth. 

To make things even more confusing, we actually saw Neserdina way back in season one in Way of the Willow. It’s where Willow bought the gremlin knock-off. 

That is an island. How the heck do you get to a volcanic island riding in a horse and cart? And don't tell me they’re riding to a port, because Corona is a port city already. They could have gotten there by boat. It’s also can’t be too far away from Corona’s borders if Angry and Red were able to get there on foot during their year long travels. 

The only explanation is that the entirety of the Tangled crew doesn’t understand geography, and this won’t be the last example in the show to back up that statement. 

So Why Is Rapunzel Here?

We get explanations for why everyone is on this road trip, except for the main character herself. Red and Angry are trying to return some stolen loot. Varian is wanting to pick up rare alchemy supplies at the market and was invited along because Raps hopes it’ll be a chance for Ruddiger and Max to get know one another better. 

But why on earth does Rapunzel feel the need to come on this trip herself? Doesn’t she have a kingdom to run? While I’m sure Eugene is more than capable of handling things, this doesn’t reflect well upon the writers supposed plan of making Rapunzel appear more responsible. 

Literally any other adult could have come along on this trip. This wasn’t something Rapunzel needed to waste time on. Lance especially would have been more appropriate here as he’s the one who’s suppose to eventually adopt Angry and Red.  And the sad thing is, all they had to do was give Rapunzel a line about needing to attend some sort of diplomatic business in Neserdina. That’s it. 

In a show that’s supposed to be all about Rapunzel; Rapunzel sure doesn’t have a whole lot of reasons to exist in the majority of the episodes. 

Lack of Worldbuilding Strikes Again

At this point I’m kind of numb to the whole “magical thing just exists for no adequately explained reason” and so I’m not as upset as some people are about the shell necklace. But it’s still not good writing. 

Why does this thing exist? How did come to be cursed? How did it get mixed in with their stuff? What activated the magic and why did it only effect the human’s even though the animals were closer to it? 

Just something show. Anything. You bothered to give use rules for how this thing works and even stuck to them this time, but you can’t just make the last leg of the trip and give us some exposition? 

Yeah, okay. 

So Where Exactly Are We in Relation to Corona?

We can see Pittsford and Ivangarr on the road sign and we have to be in riding distance to Neserdina from Corona, but like are we in Corona still? Are we in Koto, which is Corona’s nearest neighbor to the east according to season three. Are we in some no-man’s-land where none of the kingdoms have control, or are we already in Neserdina itself? 

The series gives us no sense of direction nor any firm placement for Corona within it’s world. I only know it is a Northern European country because Corona itself is a peninsula with a north sea, uses French, English, and German fashion/customs, and Rapunzel is a Germanic fairy tale. But like those clues are thrown into a blender and contradicted several times over, on top of never being told where it’s closest kingdoms actually lie. 

All of this matters when traveling and exploring the wider world are big themes of your show. You need more solid and consistent world building than this. It also impacts how much authority and control your main character has within the episode itself if she range of political power is limited to one area. So like we need to know where the heroes stand here. 

(FYI I personally headcannon Corona as former Prussia which was once part of Germany and it’s alliance of smaller kingdoms. It’s also a peninsula next to the Curonian Spit) 

This Is Not Progress

Okay so the idea here, is that the show is implying that Rapunzel is trying to improve Corona’s justice system over Frederic’s previously inhumane crack down on crime. However, this is terribly executed. 

For starters the show has never called Frederic nor Rapunzel out for their previous misbehavior. You can not change any system for the better without acknowledging the flaws within said system first. Therefore this comes right out of nowhere and doesn’t stick around long enough to stay within the viewers minds for later. 

Secondly, Rapunzel is incredibly fickle about who she does and doesn’t set free. The Saporians were still in the dungeons last time we saw them, Caine was shipped off to the prison island and left to die there as far as we know, and the Stabbingtons are shown shackled together in the wedding short even though they supposedly changed their ways and befriended Eugene again. 

Meanwhile Dwayne and Stalyan are free to go their marry way and continue their life of crime, Varian is only released from his overly harsh punishment because he kissed Rapunzel’s ass not because it was wrong to imprison him in the first place, and later Cassandra gets away scot free because she’s Rapunzel’s bestie even though she committed the worst crimes out of everyone in the show and for very little reason. 

That’s not justice. That’s not compassion. That’s not progressive reform. It’s just nepotism, and it’s every bit as corrupt as Frederic’s classism and totalitarianism. 

Just because Rapunzel is “nice” it doesn’t mean that she is kind. Real reform has to treat everyone with equality and have a set of base standards that are beyond one person’s personal judgment. She is still a dictator and an abuser even if she lets the occasional person go free on a whim. 

Finally, Rapunzel’s methods are just downright ineffective. Dwyane may not be a threat to our heroes, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat to other people. He’s not actually sorry about trying to rob people at knife point and he fully plans on continuing being a thief after feeding Rapunzel the lines she wants to hear. 

Furthermore, we don’t know if this course of action is born out of malice or desperate need. He half heartily comments about finding ‘an honest job” but can he even do that? Is it even a realistic option for him? The series has been weaving this class inequality theme through out it’s past three seasons and directly connecting that to Corona’s crime rate. 

Eugene had a hard time finding a job during season one directly due to his past record, remember? A life of crime he was forced to lead in order to survive, and he’s the Prince Consort! What chance does Dwayne have? Did Rapunzel even try to help him find work or did she just wag her finger at him and told him “Now, now, stealing’s not nice.” 

The show wants to act like Rapunzel is this progressive reformer but then they turn her into a Republican instead. That’s not me being sarcastic either, this approach to criminal justice is the foundation of conservative belief and has been for centuries. The right are not interested in why people commit crime. They don’t care about addressing the fundamental problems in society that lead people to break the law. Let alone bother to analyze why those laws exist in the first place. Instead they resort to doublethink and survivor bias to either write off those that fall through the cracks or make excuses for why their policies repeatedly fail, often ignoring the fact that things aren’t actually working for whole swathes of people who aren’t themselves.  

Tangled the Series is far too simplistic and childish in it’s approach to deeper subjects like this to enforce the messages it supposedly wants to enforce. Rapunzel herself relies on magical thinking, double standards, and personal bias to see her through every and any problem and the show just rewards her for it rather than challenging her to grow and in doing so winds up supporting people like her in their authoritarian ideas, whether that was the writers’ intentions or not. 

In short, Rapunzel shows no interest in putting in the real work it would take to implement genuine restorative justice. She doesn't honestly care about Dwyane or his victims. She’s just posturing here for the sake of her self image.  

You’re Not In Any Position to Talk Rapunzel 

Speaking of Rapunzel being a hypocrite.... The entirety of season three’s main conflict is her having a petty bitch fight with her supposed best friend and needlessly dragging everyone else into it.

In fact that’s the whole show. Rapunzel repeatedly failing to get along with other people because she’s deep down a shitty person despite the veneer of ‘friendliness’ she slaps on to hide it. Having her just say she knows better does nothing to convince me that she’s actually learned anything. You have to show that she’s learned it first, and that requires acknowledging her own wrong doings.  

Varian’s face here just tells it all. Rapunzel is full of shit and no one in the show knows it better than him. Why are they even friends again? Why should we trust her with the three kids she neglected more than once? Why should any of these people take what she says seriously? 

Well This is Contradictory

Also, since we brought up double standards, here’s Varian undermining that whole “jail is bad” thing Rapunzel is trying to push with Dwayne and later with Cass. Not only is the show under cutting it’s themes for a joke, but it just reinforces the abuse Varian received. He’s now bought into Frederic’s stupid beliefs and winds up reinforcing to the audience that that his ‘reform’ was due to his past imprisonment.   

As an adult watching this series, Varian’s supposed redemption continues to increasingly look like a victim complying with their past abuser out of fear of further harm rather than anyone genuinely learning to be better.

Can We Please Stop Infantilizing the 16 Year Old

As if to deflect from Varian’s past mistreatment and continuing parentification, the show then goes on to showcase the opposite extreme whenever possible. I know it’s hard to tell just from these few screen shots alone, but over the course of season three Varian is spoken down too and treated condescendingly by the rest of the cast, and by Rapunzel in particular, even as he enters his later teens/early adulthood.  

Some of this is just to due to Rapunzel being her usual holier than thou self, but there’s also times, like here, where Varian is lumped together with the actual children of the show, even though he’s 6 to 8 years their senior. 

In fact out of everyone Rapunzel interacts with, Varian’s actually the closest to her in both age and development. Queen for a Day forced the two of them into a power imbalance due to a mixture of classism and society’s ongoing unhealthy (and often artificial) divide between younger and older teens, but as we get further and further away from that point in time and as Varian nears the same age Rapunzel started out as, that imbalance becomes less and less relevant. 

Look at how this scene is framed, He’s standing between Angry and Red and is placed lower than them to make it look like he’s one of them. He’s not. 

Varian may still look 12 with his big old eyes and short stature, but seeing as how we’re past Hearts Day, he’s actually close to being 17, if he isn’t already. The timeline gets even wonkier after The King and Queen of Hearts, but trust me, we’re close to being two years past Queen for a Day, if not more so. 

Varian, for all counts, should be Rapunzel’s equal by now in terms of story. Not only is he closest in age to her, but he’s also the only other person going through a coming of age arc. And of the two, Varian’s the one who has actually learned and grown as a person. He has more real world experience than Rapunzel ever will and knows how to implement that experience. (He’s also the more mature, but that’s more of a failure to write Rapunzel competently than a reflection of his capabilities.) 

No matter how you slice it, Varian shouldn’t be taking orders or advice from Rapunzel; no one should be, really; and he most certainly shouldn’t put up with her condescension. Rapunzel is not his nor anybody else’s mother. She’s not even a big sister like figure, and at no point should be treated as the leader of anything or anyone. 

Rapunzel is a Poor Man’s Rose Quartz 

I typically try not to draw too many comparisons between Tangled and other shows outside of the occasional parallel, as a show should be able to stand on it’s own for good or for bad, but it’s hard not to discuss the series without also discussing Steven Universe in some way. 

Steven Universe is this generation’s Batman the Animated Series or Scooby Doo. It’s the game changer that everybody else is trying to copy in some manner. Chris desperately wants Tangled the Series to be the next Steven Universe, right down to how the show is structured, paced, and what themes are presented. But unfortunately Chris has no idea why Steven Universe works the way it does. 

For starters SU adjusted it’s pacing as it went along, smoothing out its rougher edges while Tangled doubled down on its filler. SU had a planned arc from the get go and stuck to it, so that by the time the twists came they made sense. SU kept it’s focus on Steven purposefully so that the story unfolded from his view point while making to sure to acknowledge the importance of other characters around him and their conflicts. It didn’t make him infallible nor shove aside everyone else’s arcs.  

But most importantly, Steven Universe was written by a bisexual nonbinary person who set out to make a show for people in the queer community like themselves. Meanwhile, as a middle aged white man, Chis hasn’t a damn clue about his primary audience and has shown no interest in connecting with them. 

This isn’t to say that Steven Universe is a perfect show. No show is beyond criticism. Nor is this to say that straight white cis men can’t write; many of them do and can portray characters unlike themselves competently enough. But if you’re completely disinterested in other points of view than you can’t be a good writer of fictional stories, that’s just a fact. Because in order to understand proper characterization you need to acknowledge that not every character ever will be like you and that even you’re main heroes will hold beliefs and experiences different from yourself. Otherwise there is no genuine conflict to build off of. Either no one will disagree with each other or the conflict will come across as flat and forced, complete with lopsided bias. 

Therefore, in the end, Rapunzel winds up being less of a Steven and more of a Rose Quartz/Pink Dimond. Both are spoiled princesses/co-rulers of a kingdom that mistreats it’s people and anyone outside of it, who rebelled against their guardians, supposedly out of a sense of justice, but really for themselves and their own freedom, only to make things even worse for everyone. On top of that they both accidently harmed their friends, freindzone their best friend while also bossing them around, are condescending to their love interests, is controlling of people who trust them, and throws temper tantrums when they don’t get what they want, oh and neglected someone for an inhumane amount of time. 

Even then, Rapunzel winds up being the worst of the two. 

The whole point behind Rose was that she is someone whom the main characters place upon a pedestal and as the series went along slowly had the scales fall from their eyes and learned to view her for who she really was flaws and all. By the end, in Future, she is even metaphorically removed from her pedestal when Steven removes her picture from the wall.  

Rose also grows as a character, unlike Rapunzel. Her story is deliberately being told to us backwards. The awful person she was in the past was no longer who she was by the time of her death. True she was still flawed, and the consequences of her actions continued on even after her demise, but she actually tried to be a better person. She got called out for her behavior, she wasn’t excused for actions even when the show explained why she did what she did, and she stopped doing harmful actions whenever she realized that they hurt someone. 

Greg was allowed to stand up to her and show how she was wrong, and she respected him for it and later fell in love with him because of it. She tried to better control her temper when she wound up hurting her friend. Her failed revolution and her mistreatment of Spinel was actually born from a misguided desire to help, rather than outright selfishness. 

Rose Quratz/Pink Dimond is a brilliant fucking character. You may not like her, but you can’t deny that she is one of the most complex figures in children’s media to ever be created. She is real, nuanced, and multifaceted. He role within the story is complicated, messy, and intricate. She is the most well rounded female character I’ve ever seen and she is what I had hoped Rapunzel would be when I first watched season one, only even more so as the actual focus. 

I want women in cartoons to be people! 

But Rapunzel fails at every turn to follow through with this promise. She is not a deep complex character. She’s not a flawed and complicated heroine. She’s a blank canvas in which the creator can shove his creepy ass views upon. She is never taken off her pedestal, she’s never allowed to be wrong, and she is forced to spout the the creator’s personal bias against other characters. 

Rapunzel isn’t a person. She had the chance to be one, but then was reduced to .. to this. As a woman, the treatment of Rapunzel and Cassandra in this show is just flat out insulting. 

So What Is the Difference Between Angry and Red Now?

I’m all for character growth, but at this point Angry and Red are just interchangeable. Anything that made them uniquely them has been lost, and they’re now just fulfilling the generic rambunctious little kid trope. Red becoming more assertive shouldn’t mean she stops being an introvert altogether; that’s not how that works. While Angry shouldn’t lose her temper completely just because she’s wiling to open up more. 

So Why Dwayne?

I like Dwayne as a character and in truth I don’t mind his existence here, and unlike that werewolf hunter last time he at least was established in a pervious season. But this is still time that could have went to a more important antagonist. 

Also notice that Dwyane gets a villain song, but not Lady Caine or Zhan Tiri. Just saying. 

Rapunzel Has Not Earned the Role of the Wise Sage and Mentor 

Rapunzel has never learned to listen to others. Ever.

On it’s own this might have been a good speech, but when taken in context of the wider story it just makes Rapunzel look like an ass. 

A year traveling does not make Rapunzel suddenly all knowing. She is not wiser nor more experienced than anyone else in this scene. She’s also a crappy leader and big fat hypocrite.  

Even when she’s technically right, as seen here, she’s still in the wrong because she never follows through and acts upon her own advice; making this whole story pointless in the grand scheme of things. 

And that’s the core problem with season three. Rapunzel is shoved into a role she is not designed for and the whole premise of the series runs right off the rails. You’re main heroine in a coming of age story can not inhabit the mentor role. She can not simultaneously learn and grow and be always right while instructing everyone else. 

All through out season three Rapunzel is either rendered completely useless in her own damn series, or she utterly fails to fulfill any sort of narrative promise laid out for her while she infuriatingly hijacks the story from more interesting and dynamic characters. 

Behold The Only Reason Why Varian was Included in the Episode 

Speaking of hijacking things, Rapunzel of course has to get the idea to save everybody, even though what she thinks of isn’t anything special. It’s not derived from her character as an individual nor from all that experience she supposedly has. It’s literally an idea anyone could have come up  with and the show just hands it to her in order to justify her exitance. 

Meanwhile the character who actually is useful to the plot is sidelined and reduced to just a plot device. And not just here, Varian is rendered practically pointless in all but two episodes in season three, even in episodes that he actually should have more impact in, like the season opener and series finale. 

Good writing treats characters as equally contributing to the plot in ways that complements who these characters are.  

Ok I’ll Admit That This Line Is Funny

Look, I know this whole review series is about pointing out the negative, and I stand by my opinion that Tangled the Series is one of the worst written shows I’ve ever seen, but I want to make one thing clear.... I do not hate the show. If I hated the show I would not waste my time reviewing it. 

Yes the over all writing is shit, but there are a lot of good things to be found in the series beyond just the crap story arc. The humor is usually solid, the animation is gorgeous, the music is a delight, and the majority of the characters are likable even though they don’t develop in the ways that they should. There’s a lot of talent that went into this show and there’s a lot of potential to be had in it’s set up and lore. 

Being critical or negative about the aspects of something doesn’t mean you dislike it, or that you’re not a real fan, or that you’re just a ‘hater’, and I actually find TTS to be fascinating because it’s such a mess. I write reviews because they’re fun and because I genuinely think there is something to be learned from Tangled’s mistakes. 

So Why Do We Cut Back to Rapunzel Here and Not Varian? 

This is such an odd framing choice. Varian is the one who is talking and reacting to what’s happening. It’s his pet that’s in trouble and therefore he carries the emotional weight of the scene, and yet it’s Rapunzel’s shocked face we focus on? Why? What’s the point of that? She has no business being the center focus here. The action does not involve her. 

If you wanted to include her for a later set up then why not have both her and Varian present in this shot? Usually I can at least count on the story boarders to frame things better than this, but they really missed the mark here. Unless Chris is just that stupid and petty that he over ruled them and forced Varian out of the scene, but that seems like a pointless fight to pick, even for him. 

See This is How you Fulfill a Narrative Promise 

The conflict between Ruddiger and Max was set up in season one with What the Hair, then it was reiterated a few episodes ago during The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne, and then it was reintroduced in this episode along with a stated lesson about working together that they needed to learn. By they end of the episode, guess what, they’ve learned to work together. That is how you properly set up and resolve a conflict. 

It’s clear from this that the writers of Tangled the Series know the basic tenants of writing and how to fulfill narrative promises. So the fact that they don’t follow through with this in the majority of the show’s episodes and ongoing story arcs just baffles me. 

Is it negligence? Is it hubris? Is it incompetent management and editorial mandates? Is it just one asshole ruining everything or is this a failure in the writers room as a whole? 

I just don’t understand what the fuck went wrong here. There’s no reason for why the show got as bad as it did. How does the most acclaimed animation company in the world put out such amateurish tripe? 

Just... wow. 

Now you know why I’m mesmerized by this show. It is a mystery to be solved, like trying to figure out how the crew on the Titanic fucked up so badly or why Hindenburg blew up. You just can’t look away. 

Conclusion 

Like I said at the start, structurally speaking this is the strongest episode of the season. I personally enjoy Lost Treasure a little more, just because Rapunzel annoys me less in that, but it’s not a bad story. However when you’re best episode in your final season is filler, then you know you’re in trouble. 

If you like my reviews and want to support my writing endeavors you can drop a tip in my kofi https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

[amatchinwater]

Did a little thing for Day 2 of Stackson Week 2021!

Day 2: Trapped together

Pairing: Stackson

Warnings: underage drinking

Word count: 2709

Rating: teen and up

Ao3 link

Stiles knew it was a bad idea to have a party at Lydia’s lake house in the middle of hurricane lever rain and a goddamn flood warning. What’s even worse is he’s the first person to show up! Lydia herself isn’t even here yet. The banshee was kind enough to tell him where they put the hide-a-key so he could get in and out of the storm. Scott and Isaac aren’t picking up or answering his texts. If they’re not here because they’re too busy fucking and Stiles has to be here soaked and alone, he’s going to kill them.

When Stiles gets in the house, he stomps his shoes on the mat to not track in any mud. Lyds would castrate him for that, so he takes them off just to be safe. Slipping out of his jacket, Stiles hangs it on the hook, careful not to let it drip anywhere other than the little rug underneath it. The house is empty and eerily dark. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? He’s the only fucking one here. Making his way into the kitchen, Stiles’ preturbrance only grows. 

It doesn’t even look like the place is meant to house a party in the next twenty minutes. Nothing is set up. There isn't a single bag of chips or other snacks on the counter. No pizzas and sandwich platters like her birthday. A keg is not beside the island either. Just two bottles of wine with a sticky note that reads-

“Have fun?” 

Oh my god! Stiles jumps and flails, nearly knocking the bottles over on the counter. 

“What kind of fucking game is she playing?” Jackson snatches the note, rereading it before flicking it back towards the island. 

Still clutching his wildly beating heart, Stiles gasps, “could you maybe announce yourself next time?” He collects himself- mostly. “Not all of us have your little wolf senses. You almost gave me a heart attack, you fuck.” 

Jackson snorts and almost playfully bumps him with his shoulder. “Not my fault you left the front door unlocked, Stilinski.” 

Fuck this. “I’m leaving.” Stiles stalks back towards the front door, yanking his jacket off the hook and grabbing his shoes. Whipping the open the door, the teen groans loudly, dropping his head back, “you’ve got to be kidding me!” 

“What are you bitching about now?” The wolf steps beside him and looks outside, his eyes widen drastically. “Holy shit!”

The lake has officially overflown since they’ve shown up and the driveway is at least three inches deep with water. Jackson’s care looks like it’s barely  capable of surviving if it gets too high. Stiles almost cares enough to wonder if they should move it. This fucking storm! Now he’s stuck here with nowhere to go. Yes, he has a jeep, but the road out is no doubt a muddy mess that even Roscoe can’t navigate. 

Closing the door and putting his clothes back where they were, Stiles whines, “why would she pick today to do this?” Thinking about the weather his dad forced him to watch this morning. Most cities were calling in downed power lines and massive branches flying through the streets. 

She knew this storm was coming. So much so that Lydia even reminded him to wear his boots rather than his sneakers. “I guess I better call Scott, tell him not to come. No use in him getting stuck in the woods like this.” Sures, having his best friend here would make this exceptionally better. But Stiles doesn’t want to break up any fights between a stir crazy Jackson and Isaac. Fishing in his pocket, Stiles pulls out his phone and smashes the call button in annoyance. 

“Stiles, hey. I’m sorry I did-” Scott answers on the second ring only to be cut off by Stiles.

“I don’t care if you and Isaac were fucking,” Jackson chuckles at his jab. “Don’t come to Lydia’s. The lake flooded and now Jackson and I can’t leave.” 

“Okay,” Scott draws out the word and if Stiles wasn’t mistaken sounds a little confused. Jackson’s brows knit together at the response too. Okay, so it did sound weird then. “I’m sorry you’re stuck there, dude. But maybe this will be a good thing?”

Is he serious? “How the fuck is it supposed to be a good thing to be stuck in a goddamn house with someone who hates my guts?” Stiles’ hand slaps his thigh in exasperation. Not to mention the asshole in question was hotter than hell fire and makes it incredibly hard to be in the same room with him. Not thinking about that when Jackson can smell his chemosignals. 

“Well,” Scott drawls, “you did say you had a crush on him.” Stiles blanches and goes stalk still, forgetting how to fucking breathe. Jackson snorts beside him. Stiles is going to kill Scott. “Oh my god! He’s right next to you, isn’t he?”

“I hate you so much right now.” Stiles makes a point to stare at the floor and not at the shuffling wolf beside him. “Well, thanks for getting me killed. Great best friend job, truly. See ya probably never, Scotty.” He promptly hangs up before Scott can answer. 

“So,” Jackson purrs and Stiles can’t help but turn and face the wolf. His arms are crossed from where he leans against the wall, one foot propped behind him. Jackson’s face holds that stupid, sexy, douchbag smirk, “you like me?”

He’s not even going to entertain that. Stiles squints at him with his mouth slightly parted. It only makes Jackson chuckle. “I need a drink,” Stiles uses every ounce of self control not to literally run away and back into the kitchen. Sifting through the drawers until he finds the corkscrew, Stiles grabs a bottle. Once the cork is out- that actually had already been opened- Stiles could give fuck all about a glass. He takes a sip directly from the bottle, regretting it at the extensive bitter taste of wolfsbane.

Clearly that one’s for Jackson. He’s courteous enough to slide the wine across the island when Jackson is back in the room. The wolf stares at him as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece and drinks from it, not giving a damn to wipe it after Stiles’ drank first. The other boy just watches before his brain recovers and he opens his own bottle. Setting the cork and opener aside, Stiles grabs the wine and leaves the wolf in the kitchen to go sit in the living room where Lydia keeps the playstation. 

Plopping on the couch, Stiles lets himself sink into the cushion and takes several swigs. Actually rather enjoying the slight burn and the warmth that quickly settles in his belly. He can very easily just sit here and watch tv like Jackson doesn’t even exist. Stiles can go to literally anywhere else to be away from the wolf if need be. He cannot believe that Jackson found out he likes him. 

Fucking Scott.

It takes a few minutes for Jackson to join him. Stiles already has Supernatural playing and has killed a good third of his wine before the wolf is sitting next to him. Like right next to him. One nervous leg bounce and their thighs or knees will touch. Seriously? Lydia has two couches, a chaise lounge, and two armchairs in her living room. So why is he so close?

Scratch that initial thought. There’s like six other rooms in this big ass house that Jackson could’ve gone to. Why here? Stiles drinks more. 

Jackson takes another small sip, looking like he’s barely drank anything from his own bottle before saying, “I have a secret to tell you.” 

He fights the eyeroll only just, “what information could you possibly have that I would care about?” Amber eyes stay glued to the flat screen.

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock interest. Even though there’s something tickling at his heart that Jackson didn’t call him ‘idiot’ or ‘Stilinski’. He can’t allow himself to fall for the wolf’s tricks. He won’t let the rug get yanked out from under him. 

“Quite the opposite actually.” 

Stiles snorts and turns to make some smart ass retort. But his ‘yeah right’ gets stuck on his tongue finding Jackson’s face mere inches from his own. He gulps. Clearing his throat, Stiles takes a big sip before putting his bottle on the small table beside him. Too fuzzy and warm to process this, Stiles scooches until he’s pressing against the armrest. 

Jackson also places his bottle on the coffee table before sliding closer. Forcing Stiles to half turn into the couch while the wolf puts an arm on either side of him, completely encasing Stiles. “I like you,” he presses further, “a lot.” Jackson leans in until their noses brush, “tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Blame the wine. Blame his hormones for not wanting him to stop. Hell, blame everyone and everything, Stiles included. But he does have a massive crush on Jackson. Even though he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. The guy’s a prick. He has no problem letting people know that he’s better than them. Making damn sure to flaunt his money too. As if that makes him hotter or something. It doesn’t. 

No, it’s the icy blue eyes that make Stiles want to learn their secrets and harvest the knowledge. The wolf’s stupid jaw that’s perfect and Stiles just wants to bite it. He;s seen Jackson naked numerous times- thank you locker room shower’s forgotten concept of privacy. But god damn, when Jackson smiles- not his asshole smirk, but genuine smile- Stiles’ lungs and knees forget how to function. Despite his actions earlier, the teen is actually pretty happy to be stuck here. 

Only acting as though he hates Jackson because he was simply following the wolf’s lead. His eyes flick to Jackson’s bottle of wine- its contents too hard to see in the dark green glass from this distance- and back to hooded baby blues. There’s only two reasons Stiles can believe that this is actually happening right now.

Jackson’s drunk. Because Stiles doesn’t understand the extent in which wolfsbane affects werewolf's tolerance. Which would mean the ex-kanima has no idea what he’s doing and should go sleep it off. Stiles hopes it’s this because the latter is just too painful. 

Jackson’s fucking with him. Surely he doesn’t have actual feelings for Stiles. Maybe the wolf found out he’s bi and wanted to tease him about it. Although, something tells him that Danny would murder Jackson if he ever found out. Still. This is Stiles. Lowest on the lacrosse totem pole and not the wolf’s best friend. Is Jackson that cruel though?

Beautiful, parted pink lips get closer, so Stiles whispers, “you’re just drunk,” and turns his head away, hoping that’s the case here. Waiting for the joke to play out.

“I’m really not.” Jackson reaches over to grab his drink. There’s maybe three sips missing when he dangles the bottle for proof. “See?” The wolf puts it back, returning with a smirk and a cocked brow, “now will you let me kiss you?” Jackson chuckles, it’s a breathy sound, but doesn’t make to move closer. Leaving it to Stiles.

He’s not falling for that trap. The prove-to-me-you-want-it-so-I-can-kick-you-down trap by making Stiles lean in. “So you’re fucking with me then?” He should’ve known better. 

The other boy looks confused and a little offended. Jackson leans back farther, still sitting close, but no longer in Stiles’ personal space. He actually wants him to come back, but how could he ever tell the wolf that when this is just a game? “Why would I fuck with you about this?” Jackson’s voice is soft and full of so much emotion that Stiles almost believes him. 

“Uh, because that’s what you do?” Stiles gestures wildly like it should have been obvious. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that we’re not even friends. You were literally my bully when we were kids. I don’t- and i-it only got worse when I developed a crush on Lydia. Which I get, she was your girlfr-”

“What’s not why I was a dick.” The wolf cuts him off with a shake of his head. Stiles squints an eye at him, mouth still hanging open from the word that didn’t finish. “I was jealous.” 

“Why the fuck would you be jealous of me?” Stiles scoffs and Jackson ducks his head with a chuckle. “Lydia never even looked at me while you were together.” 

Jackson flashes a bemused grin when he looks back, “I was jealous of Lydia, you idiot.” The name usually bitten out comes with a tone that suggests it’s meant to be a term of endearment. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t fawning over you like your little fan club, okay? My bad. You’re right, you’re incredibly hot and I should’ve stroked your ego by putting you some fucking pedestal-” Jackson swallows whatever other words and the surprised squeak from Stiles’ lips. He stares bug eyed at the wolf’s closed eyes. Jackson presses closer, his hand cupping the other boy’s cheeks while his tongue slides against Stiles’ bottom lip. Entrance isn’t given, he can’t really, Stiles is too shocked to do so. 

The wolf pulls away, still holding Stiles’ face, “I didn’t care that you thought she was attractive.” Jackson drops a hand and lifts his hips, pulling one of Stiles’ legs until the human gets the massage and- for some fucking reason- lays on the couch. The wolf’s hips immediately settle into the space created and Stiles can feel just how much Jackson wants this. Him. “I wanted to be the one you had a crush on because of the massive one I have on you.”

That’s a lot to process. If Jackson liked him then- “why did you make my life hell?” 

Jackson’s free hand falls to Stiles’ hip, rubbing softly and the other props himself on the armrest behind Stiles’ head. “I didn’t know how to handle the fact that I suddenly like guys. Well, a guy.” The wolf sighs, “Lydia knew and agreed to keep my secret as long as I needed her to. I’m sorry I treated you like that.”

Stiles has never seen him act so soft. Having Derek as an Alpha and a proper back must really be working for Jackson. It makes him charming in a way that his jerk persona never could. Being emotionally balanced and all that. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time. And I’ll know if you’re lying. So don’t do me any favors and don’t hide from me either.” The warning is evident. Don’t say it and not mean it. And don’t mean it but not day it. Otherwise he’ll walk. “Will you please, let me fucking kiss you?” 

Stiles fists his fingers in the wolf’s shirt- half expecting Jackson to snap at wrinkling his expensive clothes- to push him away or pull him closer, the other boy really doesn’t know. Until his arm moves of its own volition and Jackson’s mouth gets drawn to him. 

The wolf chuckles against his lips, “finally.” The hand on his hip grips tighter and the other comes back to his jaw. Jackson tilts his head up to deepen the kiss. Jackson kisses like he wants to swallow Stiles whole. Maybe he does. Maybe Stiles would let him. Panting he pulls away again, and the other teen bites back a whine. “I have one more question and then I promise I’ll shut up.”

The human playfully rolls his eyes, “what is it?”

“Be with me.” Jackson states. Stiles cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, that wasn’t really a question. But his heart skips a beat nonetheless at the implication of the wolf’s words. “Will you be my boyfriend?” 

Stiles is nodding before the request is completely out of Jackson’s beautiful face. “Fuck yeah, dude.” The wolf breathes out a laugh at the ridiculousness. “Now just kiss me. Please?” 

“Whatever you want,” Jackson grins and presses his body in further, claiming Stiles’ lips as his own. 

Stiles is now stupidly happy about this storm locking them in Lydia’s lake house. He got a boyfriend out if. 

[f0rever15elf]

They Were Roommates: Part 3 - The Dog

Part 3 of They Were Roommates:  Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 (Coming soon) Pairing: Modern!Pero Tovar x f!reader Rating: NC-17 Word count: 5,524 Warnings: Smut (again, not sorry), oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, dry humping, teasing, soft!pero, blood mention, food mention, swearing, no beta

Summary: Pero wants a dog, and this leads to several big decisions. 

A/N: @whiskeyslasso once again coming in clutch with the inspo! Also, this chapter puts this whole story at just over 21,000 words in three chapters. I am astounded. 

Masterlist |  Ao3

You have no idea how you had let Pero convince you to go to the shelter, you really don’t. Yet, here the two of your are, hand in hand, waiting for your turn to play with the dogs who were up for adoption.

“Pero,” you sigh, looking up at him.

“Mmm.”

“We really don’t have room for a dog right now. The apartment is too small, and a dog deserves a yard to be able to run around and play in. I’d feel so bad keeping it inside all day.” A pout pulls at the corner of your lips as Pero pulls you closer to his side, a heat flushes your cheeks. This still not something that you’re use to. When the staff member waves the two of you back, Pero all but yanks you forward as he nearly sprints into the back. You can’t remember a time ever seeing him more excited.

“We have dogs of all ages available for adoption today, mainly mutts where we have only been able to guess at pedigree.” The poor girl leading you around is nearly drowned out by the overwhelming amount of barking.

“That does not matter,” Pero speaks up quickly, and you smile.

“Fantastic. I can’t tell you how many people we had come in looking for pure breeds.” She shakes her head, opening the gate to the play pin. You can’t help the sound that comes from you, somewhere between a coo and a whine as you collapse to the ground to be attacked by the dogs. You love the furry beasts, you really do, but you just…don’t know about having one right now. Pero kneels beside you, petting the animals as they venture towards you both, the frown lines on his face lessening ever so slightly. You take pause when you hear a sonorous boof! looking up just in time to be waylaid by an absolutely massive dog, the furry beast sending you sprawling flat on your back as it attacks your face with excited licks. Pero is terrified for a moment that you’ve been hurt until he hears your laughter as you try to sit back up. He helps to ease the dog off of you, distracting it as he showers it in attention and scritches.

“This dog is magnificent,” he grumbles, scratching behind her ears and you nod before grabbing his sleeve to wipe off your face. The look of disgust and disbelief has you near bursting at the seams when you look back up at him. “That was disgusting, bella.” You grin at him before moving to pet the dog yourself. Overwhelmed with the attention, she flops against Pero nearly knocking him down to show her belly which you happily rub.

“Ah, yes, this one is a really sweet. She doesn’t have a name yet, came to us earlier today, actually. An anonymous drop on our front patio, kennel and everything. We think it was a case of she got bigger than the owner was expecting.” The staff member hovers over your shoulder, smiling. “She’s mostly Newfoundland, not sure if she’s a pure breed though. Clocks in about about 120 pounds, the heavier end of Newfie females.”

“She is perfect.” Hearing his comment, you open your mouth to protest as you look over to Pero, but the look in his eyes has you melting on the spot. “Isn’t she, hermosa? Strong and beautiful. Like you.” Heat rushes to your cheeks as the shelter staff member bubbles about how adorable the two of you are. “Please, hermosa?” Your will falters under the gaze of your new boyfriend, but it’s when you look at the dog that you truly cave. The pup is staring up at you with eyes that match Pero’s, such a soft brown. She looks so happy as he lavishes her with attention, her tail wagging non-stop.

“O…Okay, Pero…we can take her home.” He reaches out for your hand, giving it a squeeze before refocusing his attention on the dog. The staffer hands you the adoption paperwork for you to begin filling out.

Where the hell were you going to be able to keep this massive creature?

~~~

“This might have been a mistake,” you sigh, dropping your face into your hand as the new companion wanders around the small house, taking in the smells. “It’s like we adopted a small horse…”

“Hermosa,” Pero comes up to you after having set out the food and water at the end of the kitchen for the furry behemoth prowling your home. “We must name her, eh? Something fitting of a beauty like her.” His hands make their way around your waist, pulling you to him as you bring your hands to rest on his chest. The skin between his eyebrows creases in serious thought. “Perhaps Esmeralda?”

“You mean like from the Hunchback of Notre Dame?”

“From what?” He asked, starring down at you puzzled.

“What do you mean ‘From what?’ Have you never seen that movie?” He shakes his head and you gasp, feigning offense. “That cannot be allowed. We’ll watch it with dinner one of these nights.” He just nods, clearly still confused. “As for the name…I like it, so long as I can call her Essy.”

“No, her name is Esmeralda, not Essy.”

“But Essy sounds so cute!” He grumbles for a moment about how it diminishes the name until you get tired of it, reaching up to pull his lips to your own, silencing the grump. His grip around your waist pulls you a bit more tightly to him causing you to smile into the kiss. When you pull away, you reach up and tap his nose, giggling at the way his face scrunches in mild distaste when you do.

“Fine…you can call her Essy,” he grumbles, resting his forehead against yours.

“Gracias, gruñón.” His hand moves to smack your ass lightly and you squeak, pressing up against him as a low chuckle reverberates in his chest.

“You could call me so many other things, yet still it is gruñón you choose.”

“What, should I call you mí novio? Guapo?” You get up on your tip toes as you pull his head down so his ear is level with your lips, whispering. “Papí?” You swear you hear the wire snap holding Pero’s self control together as he hoists you over his shoulder, heading to the bedroom with a sharp smack on your backside again. You squeal at the smack, face flushed hot. He kicks the door shut behind him, tossing you on the bed before crawling over you, crashing his lips against yours in a needy kiss as his arms cage you underneath him. Your arms wrap around his neck, grabbing fist-fulls of his soft hair in just the way he likes. Every time Pero kisses you, you find yourself getting lost in all of it. The taste of him, the feel of his lips, the sound of his sighs and grunts as he grinds against you…it always borders on too much in the most pleasurable of ways.

Surprising him, you shift your weight to knock one of his arms out from underneath him, wrapping your leg around his hip to use your weight to roll the both of you over. You sit there straddling his hips, smirking down at him. The surprise on his face lasts only the briefest of moments before his eyes darken, hands landing firmly on your hips to drag you against his crotch. You let out a soft, needy moan, leaning down to kiss him…until you hear a whimper from outside the door and you freeze. Your eyes lock with Pero’s for a moment, and you consider just leaving the dog out there and continuing your fun until you remember that you’re a renter, and you have absolutely no desire to have the dog damage anything.

“Sorry, Pero. We may need to wait until the baby is asleep.” You grin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before removing his hands and hopping off of him. Pero grumbles something too fast, too low, and too in Spanish for you to catch, probably something about being cock blocked by a dog, before he gets up to follow you. Slowly opening the door, you’re very nearly mowed over again by a very excited, very large dog. Your downstairs neighbors were going to hate you…

~~~

It had only been a week since the newest addition to your household had joined you, but in that week you could already tell she had Pero wrapped around her paws.

“No giant dogs on the couch,” you said, only to come home literally that same night from a late shift to see your man and his dog cuddling on the couch.

“No, she can’t sleep in the bed Pero,” you had told him as he borderline pouted at you. Well, as close to pouting as you have ever seen the man with the permanent scowl get. When you stepped out of the shower a bit sooner than he had expected, you saw Pero shoo the dog from the bed as he attempted to play innocent.

But for all of the rule breaking and spoiling, Pero takes very good care of the dog. The first thing he does when he gets home after kissing you is take the dog for a walk while you cook, and it shocks you a bit just how easy it is for you to settle in to this routine. Less than four months with your grumpy Spanish man, and you are already finding it difficult to not call yourselves a family.

Pero is out on one of those walks with Esmeralda at this very moment as you slice up onions for the stir fry. Your mind wanders a bit too far from the task at hand, lost in thought about what the future could hold for you both, until you hiss as the blade catches your thumb, the knife in your hand clattering to the ground.

“Shit! Fuck!” you scream, clenching your teeth as you run to the sink, trying to avoid getting blood absolutely everywhere from the deep gash in your thumb. Your ears ring at the sight of the blood running down the drain as you try to remember to breathe. You had never been able to stand the sight of blood, especially not your own. The sound of the front door and large paws on the wood floors is a welcome relief as your knuckles turn white from the harsh grip on the sink.

“Hermosa, we’re back,” Pero calls from the front door as he removes his shoes.

“P-Pero…” you groan, hardly audible over the sound of the running water in the sink. The shaking in your knees finally becomes too much and you hit the ground, the world spinning around you as your ears ring. Pero calls your name and you’re vaguely aware of his footsteps as he runs to the kitchen. A string of profanity slips from his lips as he grabs a towel, wrapping it around your hand as he cradles your body against his. “B-blood,” you try to explain, praying the contents of your stomach decide to stay where they should.

“Shhhh, cariño, I’m here. It’s alright, it is just a small cut. I will take care of it, and of you.” Once your breathing has evened out, Pero stands, helping you up as you cradle your hand to your chest. Your thumb was starting to throb and you bite back tears because of it. He ushers you to the bathroom, scowl firmly in place. To anyone else, he would appear irritated at you, but you could see the concern that was present in his gaze. He sits you on the toilet seat before rummaging in the medicine cabinet for the alcohol and bandages. “Don’t look.” Calloused fingers gently turn your head away before he takes off the towel, quickly pouring a bit of alcohol on the wound. You whimper and try to pull your hand away out of reflex as it stings, but his strong grip around your wrist keeps you firmly in place as he blows on the cut, the cool air soothing a bit of the sting. Once it’s dry, he wraps a bandage around it, making sure the cut is pressed firmly together. He brings your bandaged hand to his lips, kissing it gently before kissing each of your knuckles, gazing back up at you. Tears shine in your eyes partially from the throbbing of your thumb, and partially from the embarrassment of what just happened.

“Are you alright, belleza?” The concern lacing his voice causes you to sniffle as you try desperately to fight back the tears, nodding.

“I was daydreaming and the knife slipped… I really hate blood Pero.” Your bottom lip trembles and he brings his hand to gently cup your cheek. Leaning into the touch, your eyes slip closed for a moment, the pad of his thumb running along your cheekbone to soothe you. When you open your eyes again, he is watching you with that same intense stare, like he’s working to memorize every single line of your face. As if at any moment you would slip away from him.

“I will clean the kitchen and finish dinner. You rest with the dog in the living room, alright?” All you can do is nod, the tenderness in his gruff voice so soothing you just want to melt into it. The corner of his lip quirks in a small smile before he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He helps you to your feet, holding you steady as you slowly make your way to the living room. Essy is already on the couch, and she lets out a whine as Pero helps you over, easing you down. You immediately cuddle up to the fluffy beast, nuzzling your face into her fur. Ok…yeah, the puppy can be on the couch, you decide. Pero pets your hair gently, whispering comforting words of affection before heading to the kitchen.

When the stir fry is done, Pero brings a small serving to you, taking his place on the very little remaining space left on the couch. You pull your feet up to offer him more room, but he just grunts, moving your legs so they rest in his lap. “Eat, hermosa. You’ll feel better.” He was right, you know he was, so with a sigh you sit up, grabbing the plate.

“It smells good, Pero. Thank you for finishing everything.” He nods, grabbing the remote to flip on the TV, not making a big deal out of anything.

“What was this movie you demanded I watch when we named Esmeralda?” His eyes flick to you then back to the TV.

“Oh, right! It’s called The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Here.” You hold out your hand for the remote and he obliges, grabbing his fork to begin scarfing down his food. You are convinced this man would never be able to eat normally. “It’s one of my favorites,” you mumble as you flip through the movies you have, settling into the sofa when you find it. The sound of the opening music always made you smile, and this time is no different. Pero sits quietly after scarfing down his food, a hand resting on your shin to rub soothing circles absentmindedly with his thumb.

As the credits roll, you look up to him expectantly. The grumpy scowl is still on his face as he turns to look at you. “Well?” you ask, curious to know what he thinks.

“The music is good. I see why you like this film.” He reaches to take your bandaged hand, leaning over to kiss it again, succeeding in making your heart flutter. “Bella, where did your mind wander to for you to hurt yourself like this?” His voice is still gruff, but softer now, concerned. “You are always so careful in the kitchen. What happened?”

You swallow thickly then clear your throat, trying to focus on the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you had been together for so short of a time, would this scare him off? Shaking your head, you decide to bite the proverbial bullet. “I was thinking about us,” you whisper, your gaze falling on your connected hands. When he says nothing, you continue. “I was thinking about moving. The dog needs a yard, a bigger home to play in. Pero, she’s over 100 pounds…we can’t keep her if we are going to stay here, my landlord will kill me. That is, if my downstairs neighbors don’t first.” You look up, the worry plain as day on your face. As always, his face is grumpy and unreadable. His thumb has stilled on your hand, causing your chest to tighten with anxiety. The silence in the living room is stifling, you just need him to say something, anything. Even if it is a no, that’s better than this insufferable silence.

“You want to find…a home together?” His voice is soft, layered with surprise and a look up to his face kicks your heart into a sprint. You’re sure he can hear it with how loud the beat sounds in your own ears. His face has softened as he watches you, the lines smoothing in the way you usually only see when he sleeps.

“I know we haven’t been together long, and that this is a big step, and that it’s asking a lot, and that you may not be ready, and-” Your ramblings are cut off by Pero pressing a sweet yet firm kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, the corner of his lips pulls up is a small smile.

“Belleza…hermosa…la luz de mí vida. Cálmate. I think you are right.” His thumb resumes its gentle circles against the back of your hand as your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Y-you mean it?”

“Of course. Esmeralda needs a yard, as you say. And I think it will be good for us to have a home together. I want a home with you.” He squeezes your hand again, his face drawn and serious. For a moment, you don’t move, processing what he has said. When all the gears finally click into place, you scramble to shift around throwing your arms around his neck with a borderline reckless abandon, hiding your face against his neck. His hands rest in the small of your back, holding you against him. You try to find the words to tell him just how you feel, but they fail you, so you elect to just hold yourself closer to him, breathing him in in the silence. You feel him rest his head against yours as he heaves out a content sounding sigh, leaning back against the arm of the sofa as he holds you to his chest. You would be happy to stay like this forever.

Pero’s hands trace lines up and down your back before fiddling with the hem of your shirt, slowly sliding up underneath it to drag his fingers across your skin. You shiver against him at the touch, pressing a gentle kiss above his pulse point. You feel the vibration of the growl in his chest more than you hear it, and it draws a smile to your lips. Leaning back, you brush his bangs from his forehead, excitement coursing through you at the sight of his eyes darkened with need, eye as intense as ever.

“You know,” you purr, resting your hand on his jaw, the stubble tickling your palm. “The furry one is asleep so,” you lean forward, nibbling at his ear, “we can go pick up where we left off earlier.” The words barely have time to leave your lips before Pero is standing, your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. Your giggle in his ear sends a shiver down his spine. God how he loves that sound.

Rather than tossing you on the bed like he normally does, this time he takes a seat, your legs still around his waist. He brings a hand to your cheek, guiding your lips to his in a desperate, tender kiss. You bring your hands to cradle his face gently, eyes closed as you drink him in, lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving in time with yours as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You rock your hips ever so slightly against him, swallowing the soft moans the action pulls from him before leaning back, looking up at him with the softest gaze you can manage. His hands rest on your hips, gently massaging them as he lets you set the pace, not wanting to rush you tonight. “You know,” you whisper as soft as you can manage, not wanting to shatter this moment with words far too loud. “If someone had told me that this would be my life four months ago, I would have laughed at them.” Pero smirks and nods, pulling your hips more firmly against his own, earning him a satisfied hum.

“Had you not shown up that morning, I was going to leave this city.”

“Then thank God I happened to bump into you. Literally.” The coy smile on your face paired with the sultry slur of your voice fans the flame of desire inside Pero, and his hips buck against your, earning a delicious gasp from your lips as it pulls a low groan from his throat. Your hands brace on his shoulders as you rock yourself against him, whimpering with need. “L-lay back,” you nearly moan and he does as instructed, staring up at you with those dark eyes you adore so much. The way he watches you every time makes you feel like the most beautiful woman on the earth and sends your confidence soaring without fail. “I want to make you feel good tonight.”

“Hermosa, you always make me feel good,” Pero mumbles, watching as you tug your shirt off over your head, eyes falling immediately on you chest. Your skin flushes hot as you smirk, running your hands up his stomach to his chest, leaning in to kiss him quickly. His mouth follows yours as you lean back again, hands traveling down to his pants to quickly undo the button on his jeans that are rapidly becoming too tight for his liking. You swing your legs off of him, tugging his pants down right along with his boxers, discarding them on the floor.

“Scoot up on to the bed.” The borderline commanding sound in your voice causes Pero’s cock to twitch, bringing a smirk to your lips as he does as instructed. Tugging off your own pants and panties rather gracelessly, Pero makes use of the moment to rid himself of his own shirt before you’re crawling back over him like some tigress stalking her prey. He has never seen such a confident hunger in your eyes before and he can’t even begin to describe the way that look is affecting him. You crash your lips against his, wasting no time in nibbling at his bottom lip. He gladly parts his lips for you, your tongues dancing fervently as you revel in the taste that is so entirely and uniquely him. You drag your nails down his chest causing him to shiver against you, his hands snapping to your hips.

“Easy, tiger,” you whisper against his lips before beginning to kiss your way down his jaw, occasionally leaving gentle nips as you trail down his neck, over his chest. Your teeth graze against his nipples at which Pero draws in a sharp breath, his hand reaching up to grip your hair. Smirking against his skin, you continue on your path downwards, kissing down his stomach which tightens under your touch. You follow the path of soft hairs below his navel down to the curls at the base of his cock, your chin brushing against him. Your eyes flash up to his as you grin, neglecting his cock in favor of kissing along the inside of his thighs, nibbling gently at the skin in a manner not unlike the way he first teased you when he had his head between your legs. Pero’s legs tremble under your touch, his hips bucking ever so slightly as the neediest moan you have ever heard from him escapes his lips, followed by a frustrated growl.

With a grin, you finally take the tip of his cock into your mouth, moaning softly at the taste of him. The hand in your hair tightens for a moment before relaxing, trying to remember to be gentle with you as your mouth renders him unable to form a coherent thought. Achingly slowly, you begin to bob your head along his length, hollowing out your cheeks as you do. With every movement, you draw another beautiful sound from your Spaniard; a moan, a grunt, a hiss…and it all sounds like music in that deliciously deep voice of his. You need more. Taking a deep breath, you lower your head, taking him as deep as you can till your nose nestles in the curls at the base his cock. Pero lets out a choked sounding moan, eyes snapping down to you, wide with surprise. He tugs at your hair, trying to ease you off of him as he feels his release rapidly coming on.

“C-Cielo, fuck, I-I’m gonna…” You resist the tugging on your hair, looking up at him with hooded eyes as you reach up to cup his balls. The look in your eyes as you play with him is enough to finally send him toppling over that edge, a string of profanities, both English and Spanish, pouring from those beautiful lips of his. His hand in your hair tightens its grip as he goes rigid underneath you as he fills your mouth. When he finishes, you slowly let him out of your mouth as he watches you with a look of disbelief and desire. That coy smile still on your face, you swallow, opening your mouth to show him.

“Dios…” His low and husky voice sends a shiver through your body as he sits up, the hand in your hair pulling you to him for a rough, sloppy kiss. He groans at the taste of him on your lips, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling back until the tender flesh slips from between his teeth. “Mí princessa perfecta…” His voice drips with arousal and desire, low and gruff in his chest.

“Let me ride you, Pero.” The confidence and desire in your voice surprises even you, but you know it has the desired effect when you feel him twitch against your thigh, already getting hard for you again.

“You will be the death of me, mí cielo…” He smirks at you as he lays back, hands resting on your hips. You lean down to kiss him again, unable to get enough of the taste of his lips or the feel of his skin against yours.  His fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he works himself back up. You reach down to ghost your fingers over him and he jumps in your hand, bringing a smirk to your lips. Quickly reaching for a condom in your nightstand, you sit back to tear it open with you teeth. Pero’s eyes ravage your body, a flush across his cheeks and chest as he waits for you. Deciding you are taking too long, he runs a hand across the front of your hip and over your mound to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.

“F-Fuck,” you hiss, a tremble running through your body as you lean forward, bracing yourself against Pero’s chest. When your eyes find his face, he’s smirking at you with a look that you are sure you had been wearing only moments before; confident and self assured. With a shaky hand, you grab his wrist, grinding against him a few times before pulling his hand away. You grasp his cock, quickly rolling the condom on to him as his hand grabs your hip again. The low hum that you pull from him as you do sends a warm tingle straight to your absolutely dripping core and you raise yourself up on your knees, shifting forward just enough to slowly lower yourself down on to him. Your head falls back as you breathe out a moan when your hips meet his, fully seating him inside of you. Pero’s nails dig into your hips as he fights to hold on to his self control and not flip you over to pound you into the mattress.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you raise your hips ever so slowly before sliding back down. Your eyes find Pero’s, just as delirious and drunk on pleasure as your own. You let out a heady sounding moan  at the sight of that handsome, grumpy face creased in the pleasure that you provide him, quickly speeding up your pace, the sound of skin slapping skin as you bounce on him made all the more lewd as your arousal drips from you, coating his thighs. The moans and whimpers of pleasure tumble from your lips in a near constant stream, only to be punctuated by a near scream as Pero works to meet your thrusts, hips lifting up against you as you slide down against him. You slump forward, overwhelmed in pleasure and he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him as his hips snap up against you at a relentless pace.

“P-Pero, oh fuck, Pero!” You whimper against him, turning you head to bite at the skin of his shoulder, earning a hiss from him, his hips stuttering for the briefest of moments.

“I want – hng- I want you to cum for me, nenita. Please,” he growls in your ear, nipping at the earlobe as he slams up into you. You nails dig into the skin of his chest, leaving half-moon divots in the feverish flesh.

“S-Say my name,” you beg, desperate to hear it tumble from his lips. And when it does, your body tenses and you see stars as your orgasm washes over you. You clench down on Pero, ripping a guttural moan from his lips as he chants your name over and over again like a prayer. He slams into you only a few times more before his own orgasm seizes him in throes of pleasure, holding your hips tightly against his own. You whimper out his name at the feeling of him twitching inside of you, closing your eyes to press your forehead against his shoulder as you pant for air.

As the aftershocks of your orgasms abate, he lowers his hips slowly to the bed and you raise your face from his shoulder, smiling fondly down at him. A sheen of sweat covers his near glowing skin, his lips parted slightly as he tries to regain his own breath. His fingers have resumed the gentle lines along your back as he calms down, softening inside of you. You lean in to press a kiss to his left cheek, then the right, then his nose before finally his lips. One of his hands moves to cradle your head gently as your lips work against his at a lazy pace. Breaking the gentle kiss, you rest your forehead against his, a smile gracing your lips.

“You’re stunning,  mí cielo,” he mutters, his hand resting on your cheek. You giggle softly, turning to kiss his palm.

“And you take such good care of me.” Your reply has the flush returning to his cheeks as he grumbles something about it being his job, only causing you to giggle more. You bite your lip as you lift your hips just enough for him to slip out of you, slide off of his chest to cuddle into his side. He takes care of cleaning himself up with the tissues you conveniently decided to start keeping on the nightstand before he pulls a blanket over the both of you, cradling you to him as he leaves a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I can’t wait to make a home with you, mí cielo,” he murmurs against your hair, causing your heart to skip a beat. You press a gentle kiss to his chest and hum softly in acknowledgment.

“Regardless of where we end up, so long as I’m with you, I’m already home.” Pero’s arms tighten around you at your confession, your voice thick with pleasure and heavy with sleep. You hear his heart speed up in his chest, and you smile. He gives you a grunt in agreement, but the beat of his heart gives away his excitement. Slowly, your eyes slip closed as exhaustion overtakes you.

“Te amo…” The words are but a breath, and you aren’t even sure you actually heard them as you dance on the precipice of unconsciousness. You could ask him tomorrow, you think, as you slip into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Translations: Bella - Beautiful Hermosa -Gorgeous Gracias – Thank you gruñón - Grumpy mí novio – my boyfriend Guapo -Sexy papí – (Do I really need to translate this?) cariño - Darling Belleza Beauty la luz de mí vida. - the light of my life Cálmate – Calm down cielo – literally: “sky.” used to mean “heaven” Mí princessa perfecta – My perfect princess Nenita – Baby girl mí cielo – my heaven Te amo - I love you (used for lovers)

Tag list:  Permanent: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @tangledlove27, @paintballkid711, @lose-eels​ Modern!Pero: @littleferal, @lilkermit14, @the-feckless-wonder, @whiskeyslasso, @yespolkadotkitty​​, @cryptkeepersoul​, @lackofhonor​

Tag lists are open! Requests are open!

[literaphobe]

season one of she-ra rated by catradora content

the sword part 1: right off the bat we find out just what adora’s all about. she’s a so called goody two shoes but she’ll lie to authority to protect catra.... ok lesbian lmao. but then we meet catra and she’s like “hey adora ;) how’s it hanging?” and we get it. we completely get it. oh my god. everything from the way catra talks to the way she laughs. adora never stood a chance :( we get a classic locker room flirting scene where catra teases adora and adora pretends she’s above all that only to be like hey cat gf is that a MOUSE which is very rude :( don’t scare ur cat gf or she will become evil :( oh wait. anyway.... their flirting gets cut short because homophobia walks in and separates them :/ before that tho she praises adora. adora who loves her gf so much ignores shadow weaver’s praise and says “catra did so good tho <3” and puts her arm around catra which pisses off the only homophobe in etheria. adora doesn’t really want to follow shadow weaver because she just wants to be with catra, and she even argues with shadow weaver about bringing catra onto the field with her. but she loses the argument because shadow weaver fucking sucks and has no idea how to be chill :/ catra finds adora after that and greets adora the way all gals greet their pals. by... pouncing on her waist. ok lol. catra is so proud of her gf getting promoted and says baby i love you <3 baby when are we leaving <3 except adora says catra’s not allowed to come :( so cat gf gets sad and runs to the roof. in response, adora gets a literal Grappling Hook to chase after her. adora doesn’t want her gf to be sad so she steals a skiff and they go on a date <3 but they’re so obsessed with control and play fighting with each other that adora falls off the skiff and finds out she’s like. god with a sword. i mean she-ra. uh, so adora fake wakes up in a dream and is like catra? :( because catra is the only thing she ever looks for when she wakes up (yes i am clowning. of course i know catra was the only person she was with but shhhh), and then she wakes up for real and catra is straddling her waist, which... ok. catra worries about her gf maybe being brain damaged so they cut their date short and go back to the fright zone. they go to sleep, and have their nightly sleepover, which means they sleep in the same bed :) even tho catra’s own bed is already on top of adora’s :) superb :) anyway adora dreams about her lesbian sword and wakes up scared. she smiles when she sees catra sleeping soundly in her bed however because uwu cat gf go zzzzz. adora gets out of bed which catra IMMEDIATELY senses because she opens her eyes right after and follows adora. because uh.... their friendship is just that lit and strong. catra is worried and wants to follow her gf to find this cool lesbian sword she keeps talking about, but adora makes perhaps one of the worst calls ever and tells catra to stay behind because she doesn’t want to get catra in trouble :( which is like, she has good intentions and all, but you should always bring your gymnast cat gf along when u look for sick ass gay swords. adora would know that if she wasn’t raised by the literal embodiment of gay oppression. oh well. guess they’re gonna have to fight each other for five seasons to figure it out. 9.5/10 because we got so much content all literally in the first ep. it’s like hey look they’re in love and they’re girlfriends who touch each other way too much. and we’re like noelle that’s really cool! will we get more gf content? and noelle said yes but also you’ve got a big storm coming! and it’s going to kill you!

the sword part 2: against adora’s wishes, catra gets in trouble for adora’s departure, and this makes catra sad bc where did her gf go? :( shadow weaver accuses catra of knowing where adora is because despite her raging homophobia she still knows that adora wouldn’t go anywhere without telling catra. and she’s right but just because she’s right doesn’t mean i have to like her. anyway... catra gets sent to bring adora back to the fright zone, and even tho shadow weaver threatens her in scary horrid ways catra is only happy to see adora again and once again pins her to the ground with her knees on adora’s.... yea........ and she’s happy bc she has a tank :) good for u catra we all love and cherish you <3333 anyway catra makes fun of adora because she thought adora got captured which... technically true but also not but also! catra sees a flower in adora’s hair which she takes to mean that adora cheated on her :( wtf :( and adora says no baby :( no i didn’t cheat on u :( and catra is like. ok fine. let’s go back to the horde. and adora says baby we can’t go back to the horde :( did u know that they were evil? im woke now. come be woke with me. and catra is like. wait. u just realized the horde sucks? did you not see shadow weaver electrocute me. did you think she did that for gay rights? and adora is like catra baby i didn’t mean it like that :( but it’s too late. it’s all very upsetting and i don’t wanna get into it. essentially catra thinks she can escape shadow weaver’s abuse by fighting the horde from within but adora thinks she can escape shadow weaver’s abuse and the horde’s evil by literally escaping the horde. u can see where both of them are coming from and that’s why it’s so sad :( it’s so fucking sad y’all :( they do their whole. come with me vs stay with me thing,,, and it doesn’t work out. duh it’s like ep 2 why would it work out. catra finds out that adora can use her lesbian sword to turn into a taller lesbian and instead of giving into her gayness and marrying adora right away her internalized homophobia makes her run away :( she thought adora doesn’t care about her anymore because she has new friends and can turn into a giant sword lady :( and it’s all very sad :( 8.5/10

razz: adora’s having trouble turning into she-ra. no one asked, but based on this whole show, it’s because she just broke up with catra and that hit hard :( it’s pretty hard to turn into ur superhero alter ego when you’re yearning. back at the horde, catra is also yearning. she is bitter because everyone is raving about how lit she-ra is and catra is like yeah she-ra is sexy but can we have a discussion about how she-ra breaks your heart. how she-ra makes you cry. how she-ra abandons you for new friends and doesn’t want to be your gf anymore? have we considered that? and everyone is confused because why does catra seem like she knows she-ra so well. didn’t you just meet her catra? and even tho catra is a bitter ex who’s angry and wants revenge she’s still like. in love with adora and wants to protect her. so she acts cool and doesn’t tell anyone that adora is she-ra. even tho lonnie tells catra not to be so feral because “adora’s not here to protect you anymore” catra still wants to protect adora. okay. yes the thought of that does make me wanna cry. what about it. catra goes and lies on their shared adora’s bed. and she sees the teeny drawing of catra and adora on the bed frame. it reminds catra of the break up and she scratches adora’s picture. she regrets it like instantly and starts destroying the bed. and she cries. she like cries real tears what the FUCK. and then SHADOW WEAVER WALKS IN?? rude much?? can’t a girl get some privacy as she mourns a break up with a girl she’s been in love with her whole life but technically never dated for real? 9/10

flowers for she-ra: adora realizes that it’s a pretty bad idea to break up with your girlfriend when you spent your whole life sleeping in the same room/same bed as her and she comes to the Very Shocking realization that she gasp! cannot sleep without catra! wow who would have thought! so she immediately goes on a search for a sleeping partner rebound... who is glimmer (sorry glimmer it’s her first time not having her gf) and she even sleeps at glimmer’s feet the way we saw catra sleep at adora’s feet. really makes you wonder if catra and adora take turns doing that? sleeping at each other’s feet because their internalized homophobia (thanks a lot shadow bitch) prevented them from going a step further and sleeping in each other’s arms... oh well. meanwhile, catra is gloating about being force captain, but she’s also Still protecting adora’s identity as she-ra. and apparently, drawing pictures of she-ra? that she hid from shadow weaver? is that what happened? i can’t tell if she drew that picture or not but the way it looks from the scene she Definitely drew that picture! hello????? anyway, catra’s still crying to anyone that has ears about how her gf dumped her, when really it was kind of a mutual break up that was entirely shadow weaver’s fault even tho she wasn’t there. sigh. i’m bringing this up to a 7/10 because of “it’s just a phase! she’s confused, i’ll bring her back, i swear :(“

the sea gate: “i’ve got something more important to do” and here we see the start of catra literally abandoning all other duties because she would rather go flirt with her enemy gf... she literally hopped onto she-ra’s sword.... she insult her gf....... she brag to her gf about achievement.... but she also want her gf back :( adora refuses to go back to the land of oppression tho so they get into a. really suggestive fight. and catra always makes adora leaving the horde out to be adora leaving her.... she’s like babe i am literally so sexy. why would you dump me :( i’m hot :( and she’s right but i hate them. can y’all just like. not be so gay? :/ it’s starting to make me a lil bit homophobic tbh! and catra whispers into adora’s ear but it’s kind of like an insult so she gets water slapped and is forced to stop flirting :( boooo 8.5/10

system failure: hm. catra wasn’t in this ep? damn :( it’s a great ep but it’s pretty hard to find any catradora if adora is delirious the whole time and catra isn’t there. but! drunk/high adora existing gives us an idea of what she would be like around catra. 1/10 for the potential

in the shadows of mystacor: catra’s face when she sees adora in shadow weaver’s spy cam thing... interesting. she also acts like she’s So Sick of the adora missions which is true but also she is lying. kind of annoying that shadow weaver would be like. homophobic. but when she’s messing with adora’s head in mystacor she uses catra’s voice and laugh to achieve maximum effect :/ which like. thanks? but catra wasn’t actually there so shadow weaver really full on gaybaited adora huh :/ adora eventually defeats shadow weaver and we finally see catra again uwu she ends up plotting to kidnap bow and glimmer but the line “if you want to take down adora, you have to go for the heart” is so interesting because we eventually find out just how much of adora’s heart is filled with catra... 4/10 on its own 6/10 if you let the heart comment ruin your life!

princess prom: ARE Y’ALL READY TO PARTY oh my god,,, this is it you guys. this is THE ep. so funny of adora to be like. i have so many plans for every single thing that might happen. i am GOING to spend the party getting princess frosta to join the rebellion. and then catra shows up and adora is like nvm. what if i followed catra wherever she went instead. which is very interesting! adora, sweet baby, why do you always assign yourself to fight/follow/chase catra? when according to her in future eps is actually a bad decision which we can infer from her saying stuff like catra knows my every move she will be able to take me down,, ok then stop hogging her all the time?? anyway. let’s get into things chronologically. “how dare those princesses pretend they’re better than you? just because you’re different? how dare they abandon people just because they don’t fit in with their perfect little lives? how DARE they take best friends and turn them into giant sword ladies who run off with people clearly inferior to you?!” catra.... u got sth to say there buddy? :/ u got something u wanna get off your chest? :/ u had us in the beginning but then you started to get really specific :/ what’s that about sweetie :/ catra’s coping mechanism for this is to put on a really hot suit and going to princess prom to seduce the shit outta adora? fucking genius. yes she also kidnapped two people but let’s focus on the ingenuity of catra’s plan to make adora hot and heavy and also somehow jealous the entire time. incredible. so, catra shows up at the prom with scorpia and adora immediately starts bickering with her about rules. she fails to get catra kicked out so she resolves to stalk her instead! and catra... oh catra... she puts on a whole show..... performing everything from popping a tiny cake into her mouth to circling around a pillar seductively and dropping a note into a bin that says hi adora >:3 with a drawing of catra’s face that she worked hard on!! and adora looks like a crazy stalker ex gf and everyone is like damn.... u ok? :/ but adora doesn’t have time to care too much aside from a little “haha i swear i’m not a weirdo!” look because her mind is just screaming CATRA CATRA CATRA and she finds catra creeping up to entrapta. but ofc catra’s not trying to push entrapta off the ledge! no! she’s using entrapta to make adora jealous :3 catra pulls entrapta close and says “she stole my food and then asked me to spy on people with her. is this what love feels like?” and it WORKS and adora has to pull entrapta aside and be all hey i know we’re not super close yet but the bro code kinda states that u don’t date ur friend’s ex :/ so could you please back off? and entrapta is like say what now? ur gf just ditched btw so adora goes running after catra again and surprise surprise! it’s time to dance! and there are romantic lights and music! and uh oh! everyone else has a partner except for catra! guess this means adora’s gotta dance with her ohhhhh noooooooo :/ “i don’t know about you.... but i am having a blast” i really don’t think catra was lying!! i am on the verge of passing out!! adora moving away from catra after saying “whatever it is you’re planning, it won’t work!” and catra, many dance partners later, slamming back into adora’s body to continue their conversation with “maybe my plan won’t work, but then again...” THE DIP!!!!!!! “maybe it already has...” oh my god you guys. what the fuck. like they get into an angry shove fight after this but the tension! the tension! and then adora LIFTS catra up in the air? real close? they get ice blocked by frosta after this, more specifically she traps adora because she shoved catra first djfjdjdjdjd,,, after telling glimmer to find bow catra grazes adora’s chin with her tail to remind her that she’s still here!! don’t neglect!! and catra says the iconic “it was fun distracting you though ;)” line that adora was clearly affected by because she memorizes it and says it back to catra..... years later. i CANNOT make any of this shit up. what the fuck y’all. the fact that these evaluations are so long bother me but i HAVE to call these hoes out!! moving on, adora runs after catra in a very dramatic chase/fight scene, and adora is very amped up on uh, hormones. she catches catra at a “dead end” and goes “hah! trapped >:)” which is such a stupid thing to say to ur cat gf who can jump very high, so catra says “you wish ;)” and it is just. everything they are saying sounds very suggestive okay why are they LIKE THIS anyway catra jumps up some floating ice and adora follows her up the floating ice because she’s gay and she will jump however much is required of her to chase her gf down ok!! and so adora and catra are now on some ice cliff where adora keeps lunging and they’re also kind of like dancing? and catra is being very ~smooth~ dodging all of adora’s strikes and hitting her in one move. that’s kind of cool but also don’t bully your gf :( come on catra :( not cool :( but adora doesn’t give up and they continue fighting, until one missed move from catra nearly sends her off the cliff. but adora thinks she’s hot and she’s in love with her so she’s like nooo catra don’t fall off this cliff ur so sexy aha and catches her by. the waist. not the hand! but by the waist. any normal person would’ve gone for the hand. factually speaking, catra’s hand is easier to reach than her waist. but adora’s a hoe. so, she grabs catra by the waist and pulls her in closer by grabbing! oh you guessed it! her chest! like she grabs her shirt but it’s the part of the shirt that was at the chest. what the fuck. they both get this look in their eye that makes it seem like they want to kiss each other???? hello????????? and like. very upsettingly we now know that they’ve always wanted to kiss each other so. that knowledge makes watching this scene even worse. they shouldn’t have become enemies if they were going to be this horny. they’re so distracted by each other’s lips that they forget they’re standing at the edge of a cliff and guess what! they fall off the cliff! what a twist! but adora is like i’m NOT going to die because i was distracted by catra’s lips, so she grabs her hair stick thing and stabs it into the ice cliff. she grabs catra by the hand to save her, not the waist this time, because holding catra’s hand is also gay so she might as well do it. too bad catra lets go of her hand and ditches her tho :( i would minus points for that except it wouldn’t make much of a difference. catra says “see you later, princess ;)” because she’s already expecting to see adora again.... good lord 4828473737373/10 thanks noelle! i died

no princess left behind: but i’m a buddhist so i’m back. we open with catra laughing so prettily looking at her gf’s lesbian sword. very cute. later on, when shadow weaver betrays catra and tells her to go pack her things because she’s not needed anymore... adora gives her this look? :( she looks like she feels bad because catra’s clearly still suffering under shadow weaver’s thumb. but let’s zero in on the most important part! catra dragging the sword and pointing it at adora, before turning it around and giving it to her. “this is NOT because i like you” ok catra i didn’t think that before but now i Absolutely believe that you did this because you like adora. and u can tell adora kind of is like. ready to start her whole “you can come with me! we can be together! :(“ thing but things are complicated and catra told her to Just Go so... it is a lot and we know things are deeper than just catra liking adora but we will get emo over that later. 9/10 that was a good fucking scene

the beacon: “she left me behind too, like i was nothing :(“ some people say this is catra manipulating entrapta, and they are correct, but also she’s like.. “oh adora left you too? mad kin :(“ she was deadass about to start a support group with entrapta and technically she kind of did! good for them <3 catra goes to look for first ones tech and adora goes to look for the beacon to learn how to heal and guess what happens! they’re looking for the same place! catra’s “on second thought... hey adora >;)” at the end pushes this up to an 8/10, but that’s just like the last five seconds of the ep so objectively the rest of the ep was like. 4/10 idk lmaoooo

promise: finally some good fucking food. catra follows adora into the beacon and has a little fun spying on her and enjoying her epic fails at getting information on she-ra. she also finds the first one tech she needs, because she’s a multitasker and she can spy on her gf while doing important missions <3 but also she gets caught and adora nearly kills her fksjdjd “hey watch it! >:(“ is so funny because catra??? u are trespassing???? but also uwu baby yeah don’t accidentally kill ur gf adora :( adora’s reaction is also very funny “catra? what are you doing here? :O” as if catra hasn’t shown up at 70% of the places adora has been, but the way she asks it’s like. adora is happy to see catra? pleasantly surprised? man she is whipped. anyway, adora tries to pull the Tough Girlfriend move and like, mildly scold catra for trespassing into a building where only one person (she-ra) is allowed to be in. but she still grabs catra’s hand and guides her to an escape path :’) she lifts up a giant door thing and waits until catra runs in to let go and run after her <3 chivalry isn’t dead after all <3 they get into a lover’s tiff as they run for their lives and essentially it’s like “babe wtf WHY are giant mutant spiders trying to kill us isn’t this ur house” “they’re trying to kill YOU this is why you ring the doorbell instead of running in secretly after i open the door!” “oh and how was i supposed to know that! why can’t you just tell your teenage mutant ninja spiders to chill out??” “they’re not house-trained babe :( i moved in two minutes ago they came with the apartment” anyway the angry spider monsters catch up to them so catra goes “adora? :(“ and that’s enough for adora to take Direct Action so she slashes the walls and ceiling of the room they’re in before grabbing catra to shield them both. she is NOT getting her deposit back but uwu anything to keep gf safe <3 adora transforms back to her usual body and she once again reminds catra that she’s Not Supposed To Be Here and she’s like “god now i have to like Protect You and it’s gonna put my life in danger :/ haha what are you gonna do for me in return tho ;)” and catra is like. “well good thing i didn’t ASK you to protect me” so adora is like :( —> >:( wait u know what??? ok u know what????? why are u here >:( how’d u find me?? >:( and do u mean any of this in a gay way?? >:( say it’s in a gay way right now >:( and catra is like. ur gay castle sent a gay beam of light into the sky. i saw it immediately bc im gay but i do NOT mean this in a gay way. and adora is like oh :( ok :’( and then asks about shadow weaver bc she saw what went down in the horde and she like. i think she can tell shadow weaver still exerts some form of control that catra hasn’t broken free from? :( and then catra is like haha shadow weaver is a LOSER and adora starts giving her Gay Looks and it makes catra scared because her gf now thinks she has a crush on her!!!!!!! how Embarrassing!! “ugh, i knew you’d be weird about me letting you escape” ok so why did you say that thing about not liking her? “i told you it’s not because i like you!” there it is! that’s EXACTLY what i thought you’d say you lesbian! and the way she says it??? she definitely likes adora???? she is so bad at lying?????? and adora is so smug about it like her Face plus her crossed arms and the whole “i mean, i didn’t ;) i didn’t say anything ;)” her eyes.... your honor she’s gay...... she’s like what if we were in my secret castle..... standing amongst the rubble because i destroyed the infrastructure to protect you..... and we were both girls....... adora was Ready to turn her sword into a Bed right then and there ok!!! it’s not me it’s Her Eyes,,, anyway catra starts being salty again and brings up bow and glimmer and is like hey where’s those idiots u dumped me for :/ thought you looooooved hanging out with them and doing everything with them :/ like we used to :/ are they not as fun to hang out with adora is that why you’re standing in this spider infested building with me instead :/ and adora suddenly remembers that she can’t just be horny and that she has to hold catra accountable for her actions so she’s like oh my friends? the ones who u kidnapped and held for ransom???? >:( and catra is like ya what other friends would i be talking about :/ like god i know she’s evil but she’s so funny take her back adora :( jk ik ur gonna start begging her to Come With You in like minutes u absolute simp. but before that happened catra was like fuck u lets Split Up >:( we already broke up why would we run away from spiders together huh? unless u still like me? but clearly there’s only one way for them to walk so they can’t split up just yet and adora gives catra this >:( look so catra is like FINE one last date and they walk away together. they go into this... dark room and catra wants to leave the dark room because she’s scared of ghosts :( jk but the door disappears and something scans catra and adora and light hope is like cool! time to show them memories that are specifically picked to make catra resent adora! which :( not cool light hope :( i get that ur a bot who’s programmed to serve the homophobic agenda but damn u were gay once too :( anyway they’re sent to a memory in the fright zone and adora gets Angry bc she thinks catra tricked her and catra is like i wouldn’t play u like that :( and she finds out it’s all fake so she’s like adora :D u don’t have to be scared or mad at me anymore! :D she goes to look for adora but adora’s watching a memory of them when they were six and being really cute. back when adora had the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair and only really cared about making catra happy and having her back. catra blinded octavia and insulted her and adora was still like: ur not bleeding ur bones aren’t broken and u picked a pointless fight with someone who did not provoke you in any way. where is she i will insult her some more. i love u. like damn adora really do be a ride or die girl huh!! she’s still like this but they both have too many issues to realize it :( anyway catra and adora slip into the catra and adora of their memories and begin running off together holding hands............ and then they Realize they’re running off together Holding Hands....... and catra pulls away because of her internalized homophobia :( devastating. they get into a tiny little fight over magic and kidnapping again and then adora’s face softens and she’s like catra :( why Did you let me escape :( i know i made fun of u for it before but i legit do not know if u meant it in a gay way. pls confirm? :( u could have gotten caught catra :( why did u risk it :( is it because you secretly want to run away with me and join the rebellion? :( and be my gf? :( she’s so caught up in her questions that she nearly falls off a cliff AGAIN and catra catches her by the hand because these girls are obsessed with almost falling off cliffs to their deaths and saving each other. don’t judge them their Intricate Rituals are THAT deep. and catra is like. did you really think. i would let shadow weaver erase your memory like that? and risk you forgetting our relationship? even towards the end when we were broken up and fighting each other it was kinda lit and i want u to remember it. and adora is an idiot so she’s like idk lmao probably aren’t u like evil now and catra is like well you have a point but also fuck u for thinking i don’t care about u,,, u never did have too much faith in me :( and adora is like can u blame me :( and catra is like ur hot so.... no. i will let my tail linger on your hand as a hint that i still love you. and then catra is like.... adora i know u said fuck horde rights but does that include our relationship :( u had good memories right :( of me? :( and adora is like um duh??? i miss you so goddamn much too oh my god and catra is like hey how dare you imply that i missed you even tho it’s true!!! get over urself! and adora is like not until you admit you like me ;) and they play fight again because the rituals are so intricate..... and catra lies and says she doesn’t like adora ok lmao... they enter the next memory and it’s catra and adora sparring and they’re competitive but it’s also flirty? catra pretends to be hurt to get adora to let her guard down but lonnie interferes and this causes adora to beat catra. which. yeah :( and after adora wins she does the good gf thing where she asks catra if she’s okay and catra’s not ok but she lies and hides away to cry :( and we get it babe we do!! it’s hard being in love with someone who you’re also resentful of because you’re raised in a competitive environment and always treated like you’re worthless in comparison :( but the simulation stops and catra is caught by one of the spiders and adora doesn’t manage to save her in time, grabbing her hand only to fail and have catra slip through her fingers :( they scream for each other but catra manages to get the upper hand on the spider monster, except adora charges in at the last second and delivers the final blow, further driving home the false point that light hope is trying to make :( adora just wants to protect catra but because of their upbringing catra sees it as adora always wanting to be the best and adora thinking she’s better than catra hence her telling catra what to do “all the time” which isn’t totally true but it’s what catra has been led to believe :( and also adora’s upbringing plays into it too because she thinks she has to save everyone and take responsibility for everything and it’s all just really sad bros :( what the fuck :( adora apologizes for leaving again and tries to convince catra she never meant to leave her and that she wants catra to come with her because she knows catra isn’t a bad person :( and you can see!! catra considering it!! but then precisely BECAUSE catra is considering it the memory simulation thing kicks in again and... hoo boy. we see catra and adora sneak into the black garnet chamber, after being cute and competitive and running around the horde swinging from wire to wire.... they get caught by shadow weaver and she specifically punishes only catra. and it’s so fucked because it puts adora in this position of guilt where she always feels like she has to protect adora whilst slowly brainwashing her over the years into believing that catra does do disobedient things and that adora can only escape that if she’s always perfect and taking charge of everything. and for catra.... it takes the mutually loving relationship they have and poisons it because shadow weaver makes it very clear that to her, catra’s only redeeming quality is that adora favors her? and if not for that she would be disposed of? and so it’s very hard for catra to find individuality and a healthy connection to adora which created unresolved resentment and issues and just... :( and the whole confrontation they have after the simulation ends... adora could never protect catra in the way she needed to be protected because adora was also a child, and receiving a different form of abuse, and it’s just. harder for catra to leave? especially because she didn’t receive a sudden destiny the way adora did and her issues with the horde were never limited to morality. and so catra is just. she has way too much to work through and she can’t see past her resentment for adora because the machine is making her remember all of it. and so she tells a half truth and half lie to adora about giving her the sword because she didn’t want adora to come back :( catra runs away from adora and is attacked by flashes of memory. and then she faces one last memory alone. and it’s the promise adora made to catra when they were kids, about always looking out for each other, and catra looks at kid!catra and thinks adora has broken that promise, still stinging from the hurt of adora leaving her behind after finding the sword and becoming she-ra. it was never meant to be like this but catra is hurting so she focuses only on her side of things and how she saw these events play out and she :( decides to kind of betray adora? it hurts So Much because adora looks so hopeful when she sees catra while hanging on for dear life, and she thinks catra will save her again but catra talks about how the sword won’t work for her because she’s never been the Special One like adora was always heralded to be in the horde. and having adora literally be she-ra just drives that point home for catra and she hates adora for it because this means all the other stuff she believes is true too. adora made her feel weak on purpose, adora made catra think she needed her on purpose. “every hero needs a sidekick, right?” and adora’s “catra, no, that’s not how it was!” hits even harder now because we know that adora just. loved catra. she was in love with her but adora was also like catra in that she’s a product of her circumstances and upbringing. she was the way she is as a means of survival. but the one thing there that was pure and true was that they loved each other.... upsettingly neither of them can see that. catra goes down even further into the path of evil and thinks that. being free of adora. is the thing that will liberate her and bring her happiness. which. she is wrong about. but she can’t exactly see all that clearly right now :( and adora begging catra not to “do this” which... means she’s begging her not to leave? “bye adora! i really am going to miss you” and adora’s desperation skyrockets but it’s too late :( catra doesn’t come back for her and adora cries.... and it’s just so insane that literally everyone who wants to control adora focuses on poisoning her bond with catra because that’s the relationship that... matters most to her in the world. when you’ve loved someone your whole life it hurts when they betray you and it hurts to betray them too, as we can see from catra when she arrives back at the horde. she essentially looks Wrecked and freezes up when scorpia calls her “the best friend ever!” but i want to make one quick note of her “personal space” talk with scorpia? like fjdjdjdjd you have never had personal space with adora not once in your life ok that’s reserved for the gf only i see. 10/10 i am so wrecked emotionally this is way too much but also because it makes me so emo i will give it a perfect score but nothing else. no bonus points because i do not want to reward putting me in pain!

light hope: light hope showing adora the memories that make her feel guilty and it’s the first scene where catra sees her as she-ra and walks away.... adora’s been feeling guilty over catra since the moment she failed at getting catra to leave the horde :( 3/10

the battle of bright moon: “catra will be leading the horde when they attack. i have to face her.” it’s so interesting how there’s so many pressing things at hand? the weather is screwy, the alliance is broken, no one’s coming to save them, the rebellion could be crushed, but the thing that is really bothering adora, the thing that she brings up first, is catra. “i saw catra in there. i thought i could get through to her, but all i did was push her farther to the side of evil” she sounds... so heartbroken about it all :( catra and adora meet on the battlefield and the first thing catra says is,,, u guessed it,,,, “hey adora.” and adora’s like “catra. surprised to see me?” and like damn they’re really so good at being enemies. the talent. the tension. impeccable. and then catra says nah i didn’t think u died and im glad u made it out alive. and adora, bless her soul, is like oh.... u mean in a gay way..... u didn’t want me to die..... for homosexual reasons?? and catra is like no! haha! i uh, i just wanted to kill u in a cooler much sexier way. and adora is like oh :( oh >:( oh >:’( and they get into a very heated sexy fight like catra wanted. and they taunt each other like. “i thOUgHt yOU weRe suPposED tO bE stRoNG” “aND i tHouGHt yOu wERe sUpPOsEd tO bE fAst” you know. very cool well crafted taunts. and like. they fight a lot which is kind of sad but also kind of sexy because their styles are like? similar and different? which is the dumbest way to compare any two things ever but like :( y’all get what i mean right :( we get one more Hanging Off A Cliff scene and this time adora grabs catra by the chest and shoves her against the wall, and catra is like cool! but u did this,, for what? and then adora realizes catra was just distracting her Again and bright moon is very badly under attack :( catra bids her adieu so adora can run back and fight. but she like. gets caught :( and catra walks up to her and gently caresses her cheek before adora passes out and it’s evil but it’s also tender? but it’s also evil i know i know :( all of the princesses come to help adora so she sends a beam of magic gay light and heals everything and then all the princesses send a gay tsunami washing over catra. the horde loses, and catra retreats in a skiff, but adora and catra exchange one more Look as she leaves... hm. 9/10

[lesetoilesfous]

Are you taking prompts with the Florence + The Machine prompt list? ;v; If yes, can I request "She’s just like the weather, can’t hold her together" for Hawke x Isabela? Thank you!

This made me so happy and was such a gorgeous prompt for them, I really really hope you like it!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: F!HawkeBela

Characters: Marian Hawke, Isabela

Tags: brief reference to infanticide and making children tranquil, fuck the chantry, mage hawke, hurt/comfort, established relationship, I just really like writing boats in storms, do you like character’s eyes glowing whilst they lose control of their powers because they’re overwhelmed by emotion and Only Their Loved One can get through to them?, this fic is for you

Rating: Mature

Isabela had joked once to her first mate that if she ever fell in love with anyone it would be with a strong gale blowing in a south-westerly direction. She had never thought she would mean it literally. But now, struggling to stand on her ship as it kicks and bucks harder than any deep road Bronto, boots slipping against the deck wet with lashing rain, Isabela can’t even find the good sense to regret it. Around them, waves roar as living mountains, crashing down in blue-grey cliffs of granite that howl as they fall and send The Harpy tossing on the water like an unhappy Orlesian princess on a mattress full of peas. 

Isabela ignores this, and the shouts of her crew as they swing over the side of the deck, barely held onto the ship in the storm by the lifelines they’ve tethered to the mast. Templar bodies go swinging over the sides of the boat like shooting stars or diving bells, crushing what crew Isabela has left against the rigging before flying off into the night like so much crumpled silver ribbon. Isabela opens her mouth, trying to shout over the storm. “HAWKE!”

Hawke doesn’t respond. Her always-blue eyes are blinding now, washed bright with light and magic. Her body is crackling with electricity and the tempest spirals around her, exploding outward in a strange suspension of rain and wind before crescendoing into the maelstrom above them. Around her feet are three dead bodies in apprentice robes. The oldest cannot be fourteen. Their bodies are still on the one patch of dry deck left on the ship. 

A wave slams into the Harpy will all the force of an avalanche, and Isabela’s feet go flying, sending her tumbling into the wheelhouse hard enough to bend her ribs close to breaking. She swears, and slips a dagger from her belt, cloth-wrapped hilt damp as bloody bandages. “Sorry, pet.” She mutters to the deck as it rises to meet her almost vertically, like a cliff face, and the Harpy’s keel tries desperately to keep her anchored in the water against the force of the shoving waves like a bird tugged off its perch by a particularly strong wind. With a wordless shout of effort, Isabela slams her dagger into the deck, and uses it to help her start scaling her ship as she moves back toward her lover. Hawke herself is blind and raging, lost to her magic, the dead apprentices and their injured bodies as still around her as lambs in a dream. 

Thunder cracks the sky open and lets lightning through, and where it spears into the ocean the water flashes from ink black to teal, illuminating like a witch’s cauldron and skittering with sparks that dance over the frothing waves. Isabela thinks she can hear someone screaming. Cannons come rolling toward her with a sound like groaning millstones, and Isabela kicks away from the deck in time to swing her body over the iron, cursing as she watches them hit and splinter the far railing before sinking into the belly of the sea. 

Water is running down Isabela’s back and chest, icy fingers digging into every wrinkle and crease of her body that she’d almost forgotten she had. Her hair is heavy and damp as wet kelp on her shoulders, and her knuckles are aching. The Harpy crashes back down into the waves with an explosion of white foam like shattered glass, and above them the mainsail swells with the wind, wrenching the Harpy forward and up the next blue mountain of water that dwarfs her the way a giant would a child. Isabela gets onto her feet and sprints, chest aching with the effort. 

Hawke is surrounded by a vortex of magic, and as Isabela breaks through it the lightning skitters across her arms, singeing her clothes and hair. She pushes through, fighting the water and the howling gale until, abruptly, she is in the eye of the storm. It’s silent.

Isabela stumbles to a stop and hesitates, transfixed as she stares at her lover, black hair lifting on a wind Isabela cannot feel here, so close to the centre of the tempest. Light jumps across her skin and down her body. Her clothes are dry but there is water on her nose and cheeks and chin. She is frozen like some strange Tevene statue, reduced to nothing but spitting magic. Around them on the deck, which is pale as sand next to the rain-dark wood beyond them, the apprentices lie as quiet as the sleeping children they should have been. Their hair is shaved roughly, and their foreheads are blistered with burns. Their bodies are littered with bruises. 

Isabela holds her breath as she steps over them, and lifts a hand over Marian’s cheek. When she speaks, it’s in a whisper. “Hawke.”

Marian doesn’t move. Isabela catches her breath, and looks up at the whirling vortex of black clouds above them. She clenches her teeth, and touches her lover’s skin. The effect is like getting hit by lightning, a burning punch up the inside of her arm that she can feel in her bones. Isabela grits her teeth, and brings her other hand up to clasp Marian’s face in her hands, pressing forward to push their foreheads together as she kisses her cold, still lips. 

Ignoring the pain of the magic racing through her skin, Isabela steps closer, winding her arms around Marian’s chest and pressing her face into her shoulder. The ship and the storm and her screaming crew may as well have been an ocean away. Here it is dry, and quiet, and still.

Isabela holds Hawke as tightly as she can, and shuts her eyes. “It’s alright. I’m here. I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

Isabela doesn’t know when the storm stops, or how they make it out alive. She keeps her eyes shut, and her arms around the stiff, tense line of Marian’s chest until her lover slumps like a puppet with its strings cut, and collapses around her, weeping. Isabela doesn’t move away, she just holds her tighter, running her hand through the unruly mess of Marian’s black hair as she presses kisses to every part of her she can reach. “It’s alright. It’s alright, I’m here.”

Eventually, Marian’s weight is too much for Isabela to hold standing, but she still doesn’t pull away. Instead she folds, taking Marian with her. The crew don’t come closer, and their voices are quiet - though whether that’s only the echo of the storm in her ears Isabela doesn’t know. She waits until Marian opens her eyes to look up at her, once again fully human, face red with sunburn and wet with tears. She says, “I didn’t, I’m sorry, I -”

Isabela says nothing. She just presses her closer, and rubs slow circles in her back, hushing her. Marian weeps until she cannot cry any more, and then lies there, quiet and shivering, face hidden in Isabela’s shoulder. Isabela holds her with shaking arms, and kisses her again and again. Around them, the ocean sways and kicks gently under a suddenly clear sky. Marian sniffs, and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Sorry, again, Guessing this really wasn’t what you signed up for, was it?”

Isabela purses her lips, and catches her face in her hands, forcing her to meet her eyes. “I always know exactly what I’m getting myself into, harpy.” Marian’s mouth twitches in the direction of a smile, and Isabela leans forward and kisses her, deeply, despite the snot and tears and ozone sting of magic on her tongue. 

Marian pays for the cannons, later. But first, they give the children a proper burial. Afterwards, they share a drink on deck together, sweating and dusty from the beginning of extensive repairs. The crew give Marian a wide berth. She drinks deeply from her cup, and looks at the horizon when she says, “it’s bad luck, you know.” She cuts a glance at Isabela, eyes blue as magic in the twilight. “Mages, on ships.”

Isabela shrugs, and steps closer, resting her hand over Marian’s on the railing and winding their fingers together, tightly. “Bad luck for templars, maybe. But something tells me we’re going to be just fine.” The corner of Marian’s eyes tighten, and she looks away from her, toward the leaping horizon.

“You have a lot of faith in me.” The words are pulled thin, like too little thread across an open wound. Isabela squeezes her hand against the still damp railing of her ship. The sea breeze pulls her salt-thick hair whipping against her cheeks and chest. She’s looking at the sunset when she replies, gazing at where the sun burns the sky as it dips into the sea. 

“I know. But I have to have faith in something.”

[novantinuum]

Could Pink Steven be the one to corrupt?

Hi folks! As a preface to this, I wanna make it clear that I’m just throwing out interesting ideas here. It’s fun to consider multiple options. At this point I don’t know if it’s even within the realm of possibility for us to see Pink Steven again, but I’ve seen a little bit of musing about this over the past few days and I wanted to break the concept down... and suggest a possibility for how and why it could happen.

So! Let’s get to it.

The most likely way I see for Steven’s organic and Gem halves to fall apart is if Steven comes to a moment in SUF where- for whatever reason- he decides he hates himself.

Fusions are an embodiment of the bond between people, of course. Garnet has been very clear to state that it’s the strength of Ruby and Sapphire’s love for each other that keeps her together for so long. 

SUF has already gone on record to show us a blatant example of how fusing because of mutual hatred (for another person) isn’t exactly... sustainable. Aquamarine and Eyeball had a lot of trouble forming Bluebird Azurite again due to this.

Steven: “You guys fused just because you hate me, didn't you? […] If that's the only reason, then it's no wonder you can't keep it together.”

From Garnet’s comments on fusion, it’s not a leap to believe the same would be absolutely true if a fusion began to hate themself, instead.

Hate is a strong emotion, though. And yeah- Steven’s had obvious self-worth issues that have been visible since way back in og. series episode 2, (”You can’t just be useless! I know you can help!”), but to flat out hate himself? Steven? A special sort of permafusion who is literally built on a foundation of self-love? It would take an especially harrowing event to lead him that low, I think.

(Note the pink and white eyes, (symbolic of Gem and organic halves?), and the tear over his chest where his heart is, stuffing pouring out. This Steven doll is beginning to split apart.)

And looking at what SUF has given us so far when it comes to Steven’s new powers, I think the likely candidate for what could lead him down that path is... an incident where he almost accidentally hurts someone he loves. 

I doubt it would be on purpose, mind you. He’s a genuinely kindhearted boy. He intends the best. But with his powers growing wildly out of control right alongside his emotions, I could easily see him perhaps... having a repeat of what happened at the Reef.

This episode introduced the plot thread of Pink Diamond accidentally hurting Volleyball because she was too close to the blast radius when Pink got really upset and yelled. So what if history almost repeats?

What if one of the Gems or something gets caught too close? (I seriously, seriously don’t think it would EVER be Connie, y’all. CN ain’t gonna maim a human, but fantasy violence to Gems is fair game.)

With all the stress and pressures he’s currently carrying- his lack of purpose, the fear he’s being left behind in the past, his tumultuous emotions about his mom, the troubling matter of this new power he can’t control, him feeling like he can’t even talk to the Gems about his problems- this could be the last straw. The final piece that pushes him across the line.

So, suppose Steven does split into two. Gem and organic halves. What might happen from there?

Garnet: “Remember – your body isn’t just a projection of light but also a reflection of your inner soul.”

Perhaps Pink Steven on his own is unable to handle the brunt of Steven’s emotions, and it’s because he’s without his organic half’s emotional restraint that he corrupts. Steven hates himself. He fears he’s going to hurt others, become just like his mom, become a monster. He feels like a monster.

And so his Gem half becomes one. Reflects what fears lie within his inner soul. It’d be exactly like how Cactus Steven mirrored Steven’s emotional state in Prickly Pair. 

I also think Pink Steven being the one to corrupt instead of hybrid Steven would fix a lot of the chinks people have pointed out in this theory. Namely:

It would allow Steven’s POV to be retained throughout the incident. Or, well- half of Steven’s POV. A part of him would still be there as a central character, and able to communicate with the Crystal Gems in the heart of the moment. If hybrid Steven corrupted, that communication would be hard- and they might have to switch to a different POV, which could pose the risk of feeling out of place compared to the rest of the series.

Since Pink Steven is an entirely hard light entity, it would sidestep all of the disturbing body horror implications of a half-organic individual corrupting. This is easily something Crewniverse could depict within the restraints of the show’s rating. We’ve seen full Gems corrupt before. 

Of course, Crewniverse has gone on record to state that Steven’s halves cannot survive for long without each other. But I don’t think that statement rules this out as a possibility. If anything, it would provide more peril... a ticking clock, so to speak.

If Steven can’t begin to sort out the emotional issues that are causing him so much pain, he will continue to suffer. That’s just a given no matter the scenario. His halves have to forgive each other... come to a place of acceptance with each other... understand that it’s okay to be open and ask for help... otherwise, he won’t be able to piece himself back together. What a better way to finally convince Steven to seek help in dealing with his own problems then the fact that if he doesn’t, he may lose himself in the process? He literally can’t deny it then. These halves aren’t supposed to exist on their own, apart, at all. But if they’re ever going to be able to fuse back into one again, they have to work some things out.

Steven: “I’m sorry I mistreated you. I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone- [...] I should've given you more of the love and kindness that you deserve. So...who wants a hug?”

The other reason I quite like this concept is that it would inevitably lead to an emotional end where- after the corruption issue is sorted with Pink Steven, and organic Steven has opened up about what he’s going through to his close loved ones- the two halves will reconcile, forgive themselves, and begin to rekindle that self-love. Fuse together again. Begin the long journey of picking up all those broken pieces, this time with his family and friends’ knowing support. That could be super cathartic. 

So that’s all I really have to say on that. Once more- this is just a theory. I’m playing with ideas for fun, that’s it. But this idea is definitely one I like a lot, and if corrupted Steven theory is completely off in left field and it’s completely wrong, I’d love to explore it more in fic. Thanks for reading, all! Have a nice day! :D

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 12: That’s the Power of Love, Babeyyyyy

Thank fucking god, it’s almost over.

Our issue opens up with Ironhide deadnaming Slug, like the out-of-touch grandpa that he is. Everything is going to shit, the whole city’s covered in lasers like the world’s worst rave, and someone thought it was a good idea to let Swerve have a gun.

As the Ammonites try to murder everyone in sight, Whirl and Arcee have a little chat about how Whirl’s seemingly caused every problem ever in the last four million years.

…Whirl, you have been keeping up with your appointments with Rung, right? Like, I know he’s not the best therapist around by any stretch of the imagination, but surely something would be better than nothing in this case.

On the Lost Light, Hound, Perceptor, and Mainframe are keeping track of how many Ammonites have been killed. Everyone is extra British in this bit. Perceptor basically calls Hound a fucking idiot, because even with all the guys who’ve been taken out, there are still literally BILLIONS of these suckers running around.

Which seems a little overkill to me, but what do I know? Warcrimes aren’t my specialty.

Meanwhile, in the Mystical City of Making Science Cry, Starscream apparently knows what cosplay is, and takes a potshot at Jhiaxus for stealing his look. Metalhawk explains how the Ammonites got here in the first place, which, y’know, is cool. Love me some technobabble exposition.

I don’t actually love it.

I’m sorry for lying.

I WOULD ALSO LIKE FOR METALHAWK TO PUT A STOP TO THIS

BUT WE’VE GOT ANOTHER 19 PAGES TO GO

SO I GUESS LIFE JUST ISN’T FUCKING FAIR RATTRAP

While Metalhawk contemplates ending the comic event early, Starscream is getting his ass kicked by an old man who spent the war sitting on his butt in the Dead Universe.

Over with Team -Imus, Brainstorm’s taking a breather after getting Robertsed at the end of last issue. Ultra Magnus makes a pun, I guess to cope with the fact that he doesn’t understand anything that’s going on. Cyclonus is still dying, but this isn’t about him. Nightbeat is also dying. Oh, and Kup. Turns out, being a part of the Dead Universe is sort of an issue when you’re out of it.

Even though Galvatron was fine. And Jhiaxus. And Nova Prime, for the little bit he was out of it.

I feel like this plot point kinda just shows up when it’s convenient.

Anyway.

Brainstorm has shit in his lab that can help them not die, but he and Skids are gonna need help to get all these undead morons back to the Lost Light, which means that only two folks would be going to face Shockwave in this final confrontation.

Speaking of Shockwave, he’s gone full Burning Justice with that time drive shoved into his chest, as he makes fun of Megatron for being a dumb stupid idiot who gave him everything he needed to end the universe. He reveals himself to be a nihilist, claiming that a Cybertron which only exists for existence’s sake- and without any form of life- is the ultimate in perfection. Also, he’s a communist now. A nihilistic communist.

Just… whatever, Shockwave.

Megatron’s annoyed by all this posturing- which, same- but enough about him, it’s time for Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime drop down from… somewhere… to kick some ass. Shockwave promptly shoots Magnus, and is about to do the same to Optimus, when this starts happening:

Huh. Wonder what all that’s about.

Shockwave snaps out of his stupor and proceeds to fire on Optimus, yelling about being the only thing that exists as he does.

Over with Rodimus and friends, Cyclonus is bitching about Rodimus not leaving him behind so he could go fight Shockwave. Nightbeat, who I guess just doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, tells Cyclonus to quit it, because they all know that he just misses his boyfriend. Cyclonus, though blatantly annoyed, doesn’t actually refute this claim. Brainstorm wonders aloud just how this gaggle of assholes managed to escape the Dead Universe without murdering each other.

Rodimus explains that when they heard the singing at Swerve’s, it proved they could still get out of the Dead Universe, so they desecrated Nova Prime’s corpse to make a space bridge. Brainstorm became a doorway, because he’s very nearly dead, and oh yeah, he should probably fix that when they get back to the lab, and also reconsider his lab safety protocols.

The gang reaches the outside world, and Rodimus is given a chance to spout off his personal philosophies.

Fantastic, you funky little man.

Then everyone looks up in the sky and sees some real bullshit.

Hey, Cahill? I just wanna talk, man. Just wanna talk about this boobie Windblade you’ve cursed my eyes with.

Back over with Jhiaxus and Starscream, Jhiaxus just cannot shut up. He just keeps waxing poetic about how smart Shockwave’s plan is. I couldn’t even tell you what the guy’s saying- my eyes glaze over whenever he gets a speech bubble.

Metalhawk at this point has had quite enough of all this nonsense, and decides he’s gonna throw himself into the equation that allows the Dark Cybertron prophecy to manifest.

By killing himself.

He just fuckin’… tosses himself into some heavy machinery and explodes, and that throws all the ores out of wack, since he’s got the Resurrection Ore in him. Jhiaxus is distracted by a man just straight-up dying in the same room as him, and this give Starscream the opening he needs to stab Jhiaxus in the gut.

Then the background just straight up disappears, as Rattrap lets everyone know that it’s all still going to shit, but in the opposite direction.

Really not sure about this art direction, but whatever. I’m over it.

Back outside, all the Ammonites are exploding. All of them. Billions of the little suckers, just popping off like fire crackers. The environment’s going to be ruined at this rate. Metroplex is having a great fucking time. Happy for him.

The Lost Light calls the ladies inside Metroplex’s brain room, and lets them know that they’re gonna break up Monstructor like the mediocre boy-band he is, though not without Mainframe being difficult beforehand. The ladies jump out and enter the fray, admiring Arcee’s style as they do.

Back with Rodimus and pals, Nightbeat’s being fucking cryptic, and Brainstorm gets to work making it so folks aren’t dying from being in the wrong universe, after a little prodding to his ego.

Back in Shockwave’s Super Saiyan Energy Bubble of Pure Unadulterated Logic, Shockwave says that’s he’s fucking ripped, and Optimus couldn’t beat him in a fight. Clearly, this means we’ll have to use our words to resolve this, like adults. Optimus isn’t too sure about that option, however.

I mean, do I even have to- Optimus, that’s GAY.

I have the sneaking suspicion that Roberts wrote this portion of the script. Y’know, just given his track record.

Then Megatron blasts Shockwave with his fusion cannon, and makes fun of Optimus for being a sentimental fool.

The fact that “Dark Cybertron” is telling me this makes me so mad. Like, you don’t get to talk, Exposition Central.

It’s at this point that Megatron drops a bomb on everyone present- he’s done with being a Decepticon. He’s gonna be an Autobot now.

See, ol’ Megsy here has seen the error of his ways- that by fighting the Senate, he allowed them to change him into a murderous warlord. To prove how much of a nice guy he is, he’s ripped the Autobrand off of Bumblebee’s lifeless body and duct-taped it to his chest.

Which seems a tad disrespectful, but okay.

…Megatron, you do realize that, as the leader of the Decepticons, you could just tell everyone that they need to be nice, and that would more or less be the end of it, right? You could just say “not evil anymore, I want to be loved now”, and everyone would be all “sir yes sir.” This is going to be a PR nightmare, I can already tell. Shockwave certainly seems to agree with me.

I really like this panel structure. Want to say this is the only place it happens, too. It’s just too bad it lives in “Dark Cybertron”.

Shockwave’s not having a good time right now, and he’s convinced that Optimus and Megatron have teamed up just to make him upset so he loses control of the time drive. The two spout off a little Autobot propaganda, and then Shockwave Remembers™.

Shockwave, having had his shadowplay reverse violently and abruptly, is horrified to find what he’s become. Alas, it’s too late for him- the only way to stop the time drive is for Optimus to kill him. Optimus promises to remember who Shockwave was- a callback to the line Shockwave gave him back before his empurata- and then shoots the everloving fuck out of the guy. Megatron helps.

And that’s a series wrap on Shoc-

-holy fucking shit.

The gang high-tails it outta there, IDW Optimus once again proving to be the shittiest version of everyone’s space-dad, as he leaves Bumblebee’s body to be consumed by the Shockwave Singularity. It’s looking pretty hopeless, but luckily none of these bastards can die without fucking up Season 2 of MTMTE, so the Lost Light swoops in to save the day.

Down below, Soundwave and his gaggle of small children and animals watch as the Lost Light fucks off into the distance. Soundwave’s having a time and a half, as he realizes with his balls-to-the-wall senses that Megatron’s joined the Autobots. Galvatron shows up to try to work out a deal. We won’t be seeing where this goes, because that’ll be covered later on.

The Lost Light lands in front of Metroplex, and over to the left of that are Rattrap and Starscream, climbing over the wreckage of the city. Rattrap tries to warn Starscream that things are gonna be tough, now that the Dark Cybertron prophecy has come to pass, but Starscream isn’t really having it. He’s gotten very paranoid, likely due to stress, and tells Rattrap to not play this game, because he’s the best player who’s ever lived. Then the Lost Light gang shows up and we get this face:

Sure.

Later on, Megatron and Optimus are hanging out in the Sky Roller, not-talking, until Megatron tells Optimus to get on with it, since the issue’s about to end. Megatron was totally serious about becoming an Autobot. Optimus isn’t really sure what to do with that. I don’t think anyone’s really sure what to do with that, to be honest.

Megatron, in turn, asks Optimus if he really could look past all the bullshit Shockwave pulled in the last several million years, and he gets a non-answer, because addressing your feelings is for losers, clearly. The two exit the ship, and I guess everyone else was just… standing outside waiting for them to talk it out. Weird.

...And with THAT, I am finally released from Comic Event Hell!

If you hear any distant, triumphant screeching right now, that’s likely me.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Unwind (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / (female) Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: twisted panties, oil, light butt play, fingering, oral (male), spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation, thigh-fucking (?), throat-fucking, non-explained birth control (established relationship)

Genre: Boyfriend!AU

Synopsis: After a terribly crappy birthday, your boyfriend (a highly sought-after massage therapist) decides to turn the night around.

A/N: Basically 5+K of pwp. This is horribly self-indulgent LOL sorry!

Word Count: 5,476

“Jimin,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Have to?” He arches a brow. “I want to.”

“You work all day,” you protest. “The last thing you should have to do when you get home is give another massage.”

“Again,” Jimin says, grin widening. “Who said anything about have to? I want to make you feel good, babe.”

Hiding a smile, you uncross your arms from your chest. Your purse dangles from your wrist, heavy with the weight of both laptop and coffee. Today was what could only be described as a royal clusterfuck. The morning train was late, you stepped in a puddle while crossing the street, missed a large deadline and forgot your lunch at home. Oh, and it was your birthday.

When you texted Jimin all this around 2:30 PM from one of the stalls in the bathroom, he was instantly apologetic.

Jimin: I’m so sorry baby ☹ I saw your lunchbox in the fridge when I left – I should’ve texted you! [2:31 PM]

You laughed a little at this, leaning your head to the stall.

Y/N: In what universe could that ever have been your fault, babe? [2:31 PM]

Jimin: In your birthday universe! Nothing is ever your fault on your birthday  [2:31 PM]

Y/N: ha. Tell that to my boss [2:31 PM]

Jimin: ☹ [2:31 PM]

Jimin: Just hang in there, ok? I have a surprise for you when you get home [2:31 PM]

Y/N: no, no, no. You don’t have to do that! I’m just venting [2:32 PM]

Jimin: gotta go, my next appointment is here. Just remember I love you, okay? See you soon, birthday girl [2:32 PM]

He did not respond after that, which was not surprising given his schedule. Jimin was many things, but in a professional capacity he was the most sought-after physical therapist masseuse in the city, specializing in sports medicine. Each day, his office was booked solid with appointments. Everyone on Yelp claimed he was doing God’s work and Jimin loved his job, but the popularity meant he worked long, often odd hours.

Which is why you drew the line at him practicing outside of work. Even on you – even for fun.

“No,” you insist, shaking your head. “Jimin, you massage people all day. I’d feel guilty if I made you do that when you got home.”

Lower lip protruding, Jimin begins to walk closer. He has already set up his massage table in the middle of the apartment, blinds drawn over the windows and lights dimmed like his workspace. Soothing music plays from the corner and he has even gone so far as to diffuse essential oils – orange and lemon waft under your nose. Orange, to decrease anxiety and lemon, to improve mood. Despite yourself, you smile. Jimin is always so thoughtful.

Coming to a stop before you, he stares. Jimin is dressed in a clean, white button-down and slacks – work clothes. “Are you really not going to let me help you relax?” he teases. “And on your birthday?”

Exhaling slow, you glance at the table. Despite all better judgement, you feel a slight pang of longing. It has been such a horrible day and you know Jimin is good at what he does. Due to your purse, your back is aching; your feet are sore from walking around all day – all you really want is for your boyfriend to massage the shit out of you.

“It’s only,” you say, gaze returning to his. “I feel bad.”

Jimin arches a brow. “Why?”

“Because.” You wave a hand at the table. “It’d be like if for your birthday, you asked me to do taxes.”

“But you do our taxes every year. And that’s not even on my birthday.”

“You get what I mean,” you respond, trying hard not to laugh. “I love spreadsheets and data, but that’s not what I want to do when I get home.”

“Okay, first off,” Jimin interrupts. “That’s a lie. You frequently make spreadsheets before our vacations and even went so far as to make a household chores list.”

“Well, that’s just good sense!”

“And second,” he continues, as though you have not spoken. “It’s not quite the same, is it?”

“What do you mean?” you say, watching him take a step closer. Jimin’s expression is decidedly less innocent than before.

“What I mean,” he exhales, taking your purse. “Is that I doubt spreadsheets spark the same interest for you as the idea of my girlfriend, naked on my massage table.”

“Jimin.” Dazedly, you watch him lower your purse to the floor. His hand intertwines with yours, pulling you forward. “That’s… you’re…”

He chuckles, stopping at the clean, white surface. “I just want you to relax, babe,” he says, dropping a kiss to your forehead. Jimin lingers for a moment before pulling away. “It’s been a crappy day, right? Let me make you feel better.”

Finally, you nod and shrug free from your coat. “Okay,” you agree, letting this fall. “Leave, then, and let me get undressed.”

Jimin arches a brow. “You do know I’ve seen you naked before, right?” he asks. “You do know I’m the one who had his mouth between your legs literally two nights ago?”

“Jimin!” you chide, face heating up. “This isn’t about that – this is strictly professional! How am I supposed to relax if I’m constantly thinking about your… you… well, that?”

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head as he walks down the hall. “Fine,” he says, disappearing into your bedroom. “Undress as much as you’re comfortable with and get under the sheets. I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, beginning to strip from your clothes. The lie on the floor for a moment before, changing your mind, you begin to fold them in half.

“Are you folding your clothes?”

You freeze, mid-fold to glance at the bedroom. “Don’t peek!” you call out, squinting down the length of the hall.

“I’m not,” Jimin laughs. “I just know you.”

“Do not!” you yell back, grinning as you place your clothes on top of the counter.

Returning to the massage table, you cock your head to one side. It is massage protocol to strip down as much as you prefer. It means you could be naked under the sheet but honestly, you do not trust yourself, nor Jimin to remain professional if you do. So, leaving your black panties on, you shimmy beneath the covers.

At the last moment, you unhook your bra to fling across the room. There is a thin line between propriety and missing the entire point of the massage, after all.

A few minutes later, Jimin calls out, “Can I come back now?”

“Yes,” you respond, head buried in the hole of the table.

Footsteps reach your ears, padding down the length of the hall. Jimin’s bare feet stop before you, wriggling his toes and making you giggle. You listen to the sound of him moisturizing his hands and inhale, eyelids fluttering when you smell eucalyptus.

“Are you ready?” he asks, voice dropping an octave.

You nod, stilling when Jimin pulls your hair to one side. Delicately, he tugs the sheet from your shoulders, lowering this until it pools around your waist. Shutting your eyes at the chill, you fight back a shiver when Jimin’s hands touch your back.

“Inhale,” he demands, quiet.

You do.

“Now, exhale.”

Obeying, you try not to move.

“Good,” Jimin says, sounding pleased.

There is a smirk to his voice, and you would tell him off, but his hands are already moving. He starts off gently, applying light pressure to each part of your back. Jimin makes his way down your body, giving each muscle group attention before returning to your head.

There is another pump of something, and his hands return to your body, now slick with oil. You inhale sharply, but Jimin does not respond. Thumbs finding the grooves in your back, he slowly traces up and back down. Palms seeking your skin, he gently rubs oil into your body. Each time he nears your lower back, he remains strictly professional. It is as though there are giant, red lines marking the no-go spots on your skin. Very Fifty Shades of him.

The moment you think this, you stifle a laugh. Jimin would think this funny but before you can tell him, his hands return to your shoulders. Increasing the pressure, he begins to knead the sore muscle.

“Is the pressure good?” he asks, business-like.

Nodding into the terrycloth, you realize he cannot see. “Yes,” you say, exhaling. “It’s perfect.”

Jimin laughs quietly. “Harder?”

His voice is teasing and you stiffen. “Jimin…” you mutter, a warning.

He truly laughs now, somewhat abashed. “Okay, okay. I promise that, from now on, I’ll be on my best behavior. This is just about you – fuck,” Jimin huffs, lowering his forearm to your back. “Do you sit hunched at your computer every day, Y/N?”

“I work in an office!” you complain, whining into the table.

Making a noise of dismissal, Jimin steadily works on the muscle. You wince, feeling him find several knots. “You should do exercises,” he says, grumbling to himself. “Every few hours, look up at the ceiling and then down at the floor. Roll your shoulders a bit. It will do wonders, I promise.”

“Noted,” you say, exhaling deeply.

Jimin chuckles. “Sorry, baby.” Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your neck. His hands continue their work. “I just want you to be healthy. To feel good.”

“Mm, I feel pretty good right now,” you say, closing your eyes.

Jimin laughs, falling silent when he begins to ease over your shoulders. His fingers expertly knead muscle, wiping the tension bit by bit from your body. God – now, you understand why Jimin is so in demand as a masseuse. He knows just what to do which has you melting into the table.

Gently, Jimin takes your arm to stretch the ligaments. His hands smooths down your bicep, easing the stress of that one workout this week. When he flips your hand in his, you audibly sigh. Jimin’s touch stays gentle, stretching your fingertips back one by one. With the pads of his thumbs, he begins to massage your palm.

A groan escapes.

Jimin pauses. “Baby,” he murmurs. “You can’t make those noises on my table.”

“Why not?” you mumble into the sheets.

“Because you make the same noises with my cock down your throat.”

“Jimin!” 

He laughs, easing his hands up your shoulders. “Shh.” Jimin presses another kiss to your neck. “See – that’s why you can’t make those noises. I’m trying to be a professional.”

“Do you kiss all your patients’ necks?” 

Kissing you again, Jimin pulls back. “No. Now, stay quiet and let me make you less tense.”

You snort, nearly missing the sound of oil hitting the table. When Jimin’s hands return to your back, he glides smoothly down the panes of your body. Inhaling slowly, you exhale and try to focus on the sensation. This is not Jimin, you tell yourself. This is just a nice massage by a stranger; not by your devastatingly handsome boyfriend who is good with his hands.

This helps for a bit, until Jimin’s hands find your lower back. “Can I remove the sheet?” he asks, softer than before.

After a brief pause, you nod. “Y-yeah.”

Ignoring your stammer, Jimin simply removes the sheet and drapes this over a chair. “Is the temperature alright?” Jimin asks. The massage oil bottle is lifted again.

“It’s good.”

“Good,” Jimin responds, hands finding your legs. He goes lower, traveling from your upper thighs to calves and oiling your skin. Eyes closed, you savor the feeling of his well-practiced fingers.

Jimin huffs, breaking the silence. “Baby. Are you doing those stretches I taught you after you run?”

Your eyes snap open. “Jimin,” you half-laugh. When you try to turn and face him, he presses a hand on your back. “I thought this was supposed to relax me?”

“It is!” he insists, although you can hear the grin in his voice. “Your calves are just tight – that has to be painful!”

“Huh.” You snuggle lower on the table. “Maybe if you massaged them every night, they’d feel better.”

Chuckling, Jimin’s thumbs slide up the back of your legs. “Someone’s greedy.”

“You’re just… really good at this.”

“You think?” Jimin’s breath hitches when he reaches your thighs. He hesitates for a moment, fingers close to your panties. “Would you like me to continue?” he asks, almost pleasant. “To the gluteus region?”

“... you want to massage my butt.”

“The gluteus region,” Jimin repeats, dragging both hands down your thighs. “I want to help you relax and right now, your gluteus region is tense.”

“Probably because you’re staring at it.”

“I mean, it’s a nice butt.”

“Professionalism!” you scold, grinning into the sheet.

Jimin’s hands hover at your panties. “Well?”

You consider for a moment. “Do your worst.”

Jimin chuckles, hands sliding to either side of your ass. “Breathe in deeply,” he instructs, waiting until you obey. “Now, exhale.”

You follow.

Jimin begins in a professional manner, working mainly the outer muscles. Using elbow and forearm, he massages until you begin to relax. Sinking further into the table, you begin to forget this is Jimin at all. It has been such a long day and his hands feel so good, wiping pain from your body.

Except. 

As Jimin begins to knead lower, his thumbs slip briefly beneath the lace of your panties. You still on the table, eyes opening to stare at the floor. Jimin pauses, unmoving before he does it again. Both his thumbs trace the groove where your ass meets your thigh and you stiffen a moment, before pushing your ass into his hands.

Jimin swears under his breath.

This is all the warning you have before he grips the sides of your underwear. Tugging roughly upwards, he exposes your ass on the table. You gasp, panties twisting in the wetness of your folds. You should say something. You should scold Jimin about the professional nature of this massage but instead, you decide – fuck it.

Arching a little, you press your legs tightly together.

Jimin inhales, hands still on your ass. His thumb traces your panties, teasing the skin just beneath the material. Each time he does this, he trails closer and closer to your sex. His fingers do not falter, though; not once does he move to give you what you crave.

The fabric of your underwear is tight on your sex, rubbing in a way which feels wholly indecent. Your panties are sticky, damp with arousal and it is not just the oil which has you dripping. Each tantalizing trace of his fingers makes you whimper but still, Jimin does nothing.

As soon as you think this, he grasps your ass firmly to spread your cheeks apart on the table.

“Fuck,” you hiss, arching against him.

Unable to take anymore, you lift your head to see him. Jimin stares back, neediness in his gaze. “Can I?” he pleads, hands still on your ass. “Please, baby… let me make you feel good. Like this.”

Unable to think of a coherent response, you nod.

Determination enters his gaze and, before you can move, he cups your heat with one hand. Still looking at you, Jimin’s middle finger drags up the length of your sex. He strokes over you slowly, pushing your underwear aside and into the mess of your slick. Shuddering, you cross both arms on the table to bury your head in your hands.

Arching upwards, you hear Jimin chuckle. “These,” he murmurs, gripping your panties. “They need to go.”

You do not protest, lifting your hips to aid him in slipping them off your legs. When you are finally naked on the table, Jimin walks to your front. Lifting your head, you meet his gaze once again.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, soft.

“Take off your shirt,” you demand.

He nods. Grasping the hem, Jimin lifts this overhead to drop on the floor. Once he is shirtless, Jimin reaches out for a different bottle of oil.

Seeing the label, your jaw drops. “Hey!” you cry, reading erotic massage on the label. “You lied! You said this was strictly professional!”

Jimin smirks. “It is,” he agrees, repositioning himself at your ass. “Or, it was. Until you started making those noises.”

“You had that bottle on the table.”

“Preparing myself,” he explains, drizzling oil over your body, “for the inevitable.”

When his hands begin to slip up your ass, you groan. “I – oh, fine. Whatever.”

Jimin chuckles, cupping your cheeks with both hands. “Whatever?” he teases, finger slipping lower. “Is that you saying you want more?”

Giving in, you nod against the table. Already, you feel so on edge – the oil between your legs is driving you crazy. Leaning forward, Jimin brushes a kiss to your spine while his hand slips further forward. Cupping your pussy, the tips of his fingers brush over your clit. When he feels your body tense at the motion, Jimin inhales and repeats.

Rubbing slow circles, he slides his thumb into your cunt. You gasp, jerking forwards and Jimin squeezes your ass. “Bad,” he teases, breathless. “Stay still. It’ll feel deeper that way.”

Though you whimper, you nod and press your thighs tighter together. Jimin continues to stroke your sex, getting you swollen and messy against the sheet. His thumb rests inside you, unmoving despite the way your walls squeeze around him. Gently kissing your spine, Jimin’s chest finds your thigh while you squirm on the table.

“More?” he whispers.

Fervently, you nod. “Feels so good, Jimin. Please.”

His smile widens against your skin. If there is one thing your boyfriend loves, it is praise. As he withdraws, you whimper and push your ass backwards. You must seem needy, naked and rutting against him, but you know Jimin likes it. He likes watching you fuck yourself for his attention.

Spreading your thighs slowly, Jimin drizzles more oil between your legs. He stares at you for a moment, watching the beads drip down to your sex. Whimpering, your hands clench around nothing because you do not dare move, yet the feeling is torture. The oil mixes into your slick, pooling beneath you on the sheet of the table – you groan.

Jimin’s fingers scissor your folds, sliding up and down the length of your sex. His thumb slips over your asshole, wet with oil and arousal. “Is this what you want?” he teases, pushing against the hole.

You whimper, stretching to accommodate the little he moves. Jimin rests for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. His thumb is slick – so is your body and, after a few seconds, a raw sort of pleasure begins to spread through your limbs.

“Oh,” you groan, going limp on the table. “Jimin.”

Withdrawing, Jimin wipes his hand on the sheet. “Not yet,” he says, sliding a different finger into your cunt.

“Shit,” you swear, buckling. “Yes. There!”

Chuckling lightly, Jimin adds a second finger. “There?” he teases, spreading the digits.

You groan, feeling him slowly scissor your walls. Jimin starts to slide in and out, fucking you with his fingers. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so well. Can you take more?”

“Mhm,” you agree, turning your head on the sheet. “Harder, Jimin.”

Gaze darkening, Jimin nods and roughly, he shoves a third finger inside you. You groan, feeling stuffed from the motion until he snaps his wrist forward, fucking you hard. Loud, wet squelches fill the apartment as you are thrust crudely forward, nipples brushing the sheet.

Still, Jimin does not relent. Grasping your ass with one hand, he begins to move harder. You cannot help but wish his fingers were his cock, spreading you wider. When you glance over, you see Jimin has a raging hard-on beneath his slacks and know this will not be the end of tonight.

Not with how he bites down on his lip, staring at your pussy like a man on the brink. When he snaps his wrist forward, a fresh wave of arousal soaks the sheet beneath you. Moaning his name, your toes curl on the table. Tantalizingly slow, Jimin slides his thumb into your ass.

Hands twisting in the sheet, your orgasm slams into you with a gasp. For a moment you see stars, clenching around him as you choke on his name. Everything feels fuzzy, muted as you come back to reality.

Gently, Jimin presses a kiss to the your spine. His thumb slips from your ass, fingers withdrawing as you relax on the table. Exhaling deeply, you struggle to open your eyes. Every part of you tingles, aflame and you cannot help but want more.

Jimin slides a hand up your folds. “What’s this?” he murmurs, seeing how wet you still are. Although you shudder at the sensitivity, you do not push him away. “Do you want more, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Walking to the front of the table, Jimin comes to a stop. His cock rests at eye-level, making your mouth water.

Gently, he grasps your chin in one hand. “Are you sure?”

Turning your head, you lick the side of his finger. Jimin’s lips part, watching you lap at your arousal. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, lowering himself to eye-level. “You are greedy, aren’t you? That’s good.” Lightly, he kisses your lips. “Whatever you want, tonight.”

You whimper when he pulls away, your chin still held firm in his grasp. Jimin stills and holds your mouth before his zipper. His bulge is now obvious, straining the seams of his pants.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you pout, glancing from beneath your lashes.

Without further ado, Jimin undoes his belt. Pulling this from his pants, he drops this on the floor and yanks down his zipper. His black boxer-briefs are barely able to hide the hard cock underneath. Still grasping your chin, Jimin lewdly grabs his package.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” he demands, not looking away. “Sure you want me to fuck your throat?”

“Want it, Jimin. I want you.”

Inhaling softly, the tip of his tongue touches the corner of his mouth. Without further ado, Jimin tugs his briefs below his ass. You cannot help but moan when his cock springs free from the fabric. He’s just so pretty and hard – thick, needy and wanting to get sucked.

Obediently, you open your mouth. Jimin fails to waste time, shuffling forward to place his tip between your lips. Lowering his cock to your tongue, he watches you lick the head. Moving forward, you seek more – until finally, Jimin releases your chin and grasps your hair.

He thrusts forward, pushing his cock past your lips. As you swirl your tongue, you taste his whole member. Acting on instinct, JImin wraps your hair tighter and you fight back a moan. As he withdraws, Jimin allows you to see his cock wet with saliva.

After another long pause, Jimin thrusts inside. Your mouth takes him easily, sucking hard on whatever he puts past your lips. Teasing, you hollow your cheeks and stare at him from the table. Jimin’s gaze hardens, hair falling forward to begin fucking your mouth. His hips move slow at first, increasing in speed when you moan around his cock.

“So good, baby,” he pants. “So fucking good like that. You look so damn good when you gag on my dick.”

As though to prove his point, Jimin thrusts even deeper. You choke when he hits the back of your throat, eyes watering sharply as Jimin smiles. Gently, he reaches down to wipe your eyes.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he withdraws. “Think I wanna fuck you for real now, though.”

You nod, overeager and Jimin chuckles. He walks to the side of the table, gently helping you turn over.

“Can you walk?” Jimin looks at you critically. His thumb traces a gentle path up your throat. “Or do you need me to carry you?”

As tempting as the offer sounds, you shake your head. Every part of you feels beautifully pliant; ready and willing to let Jimin have his way with you. You can make it as far as the bed.

“Yeah?” he asks, careful. 

When you nod a second time, Jimin gives in and helps you down from the table.

Grasping his arms, you sway for a moment. “Oh!” you gasp, core clenching around nothing. 

The inside of your thighs are slippery from coming and seeing him like this, cock red and aching, makes your core throb.

“Careful.” Jimin hides a smile. “Can’t have you falling apart on me yet, Y/N.”

Turning around, his fingers intertwine with yours to tug you down the hall. As soon as you enter the bedroom, Jimin turns around to seize your mouth in a kiss. 

“Mm,” he exhales, mouth opening yours.

Hands skimming your body, he moves even lower to cup your ass. Pulling you against him, Jimin’s bare cock pushes between your thighs. Slowly rutting forward, his tongue moves past your lips in a similar similar motion. Reaching even lower, Jimin grabs himself in one hand.

Breaking apart, he glances down to move his tip to your clit. This makes you whimper, still overly sensitive, but Jimin lingers only a moment. Pushing past your clit, he slides between your legs. Your thighs are still slippery with oil and cum, allowing Jimin’s cock to glide smoothly forward.

“Oh,” you exhale, eyes wide.

Gaze darkening, Jimin does this again. His cock slips between your folds, rubbing each inch of your sex before he withdraws. Feeling him this way feels oddly intimate – even more so when he re-grips your ass with both hands.

“Tell me when to stop,” Jimin grunts.

Without further warning, he plunges between you. Grasping his arms, your head spins a little when he starts to move faster. Holding tight to your ass, Jimin fucks between your legs. His length is dripping each time he pulls back, soaked thoroughly in your needy arousal.

“God.” Jimin pulls out. “Now,” he begs, gaze snapping to yours. “I have to fuck you now, Y/N. I need it.”

“I,” you exhale. “Yes. Where?”

“This is your day, baby,” he murmurs, bending to kiss your neck. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

“Against the wall,” you groan, head lolling back. “There.”

Pulling away, Jimin grasps your hand and tugs forward. When you reach the aforementioned wall, he turns you around and presses your palms to the wallpaper. Stopping behind you, Jimin’s hand slips between your legs.

“Ah,” he inhales, as his lips find your neck. Two of his fingers stretch your now-dripping walls. “Such a tight, wet pussy for me. How badly do you want my cock, baby?”

“Bad,” you gasp. “So bad. I need you inside me.”

Grasping his cock, Jimin teases his length up and down your wet folds. “Do you think you deserve it?” 

“Jimin,” you pant, pushing your hips backwards. “Please.”

“Look who’s needy,” he says, sounding smug. Jimin places his tip at your opening. “But since you said please.”

Before you can respond, he thrusts inside you. Moaning out loud, your knees buckle at the suddenly too-full feeling. Jimin is there in an instant, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other interlaces with your hand on the wall. Hips pressed snug to your ass, he keeps you hostage against him.

Chuckling softly, Jimin kisses your cheek. “That’s it, baby,” he says, withdrawing slowly to thrust back in.

You gasp, breasts hitting the wall as his length jars you forward. His hips do not falter. Already, you have come once from his teasing – Jimin knows that for a second orgasm, you need his cock hard and rough. The deeper, the better.

“Fuck,” Jimin grunts, pulling you back on his length. “You’re squeezing me so tight, babe. How did I get so lucky? Such a tight, wet cunt – all for me.”

“I’m. The. Lucky. One,” you gasp, in time with his thrusts. 

You are barely hanging on while he continues to fuck you. Jimin’s hips are relentless, hammering into you as you begin to see stars. Legs shaking, you fight to stay upright through the pleasure he gives you.

“That’s it,” Jimin breathes, tightly gripping your waist. “Stay with me, baby.” 

Reaching backwards, you manage to grab hold of his ass. “Harder, Jimin,” you beg. “Tear me open – I want it, God, I want it.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, pushing you against the wall. 

Playing with your nipple in one hand, his cock somehow gets even deeper. Now, you are whimpering, begging him to keep going because you are so fucking close. Luckily, he knows exactly what you need.

“Is that what you want?” Raising a palm, he roughly slaps your ass. “Want to be sore tomorrow, is that it? Want to feel my dick deep inside you? Wince every time you sit down? I want everyone in your office to see you walking around and know I fucked you so good. That I came so deep inside you, your panties are still wet.”

“Yes!” Reaching between your legs, you rub over yourself. “Fuck, Jimin,” you moan. “Keep going.”

Spanking you harder, he makes you cry out in pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jimin croons. “Touch yourself like that. I’ve got you – I’ll make you come, don’t worry. That’s my good girl,” he breathes, hips slamming against your ass. “That’s my sweet, little princess. My filthy cock-slut. Sound so sweet when you come on my cock.”

With a final thrust, he pushes you over the edge. As you cry out his name, you slump on the wall as your right hand goes limp. Jimin continues to hold on, fucking you harder through the most intense orgasm of your life. A few thrusts later, he comes inside you. Hot ropes of cum coat your walls, making you moan and lower your head to the wall.

Jimin stays there for a moment, cock softening inside you. At last, he exhales and gently kisses your neck. “Shit,” he chuckles, withdrawing. One of his hands cups your center. “I probably should’ve made sure there was a tissue in reach before I started fucking you, yeah?”

“Jimin,” you groan, still smushed between him and the wall. “I can’t stand for much longer.”

“Oh, right,” Jimin says. “Hold that,” he demands, letting your hand replace his. “I’ll be right back with a towel.”

“Hurry!” you whine.

Jimin disappears into the bathroom, lights flicking on before, a few seconds later, he reemerges with a damp towel. “Here,” he chuckles, cleaning you off. Once finished, he raises a brow. “Now, do you need that lift to the bed?”

Silently, you hold out your arms. Jimin laughs, tossing the cloth on the ground.

“Jimin!” you protest. Before you can say more, he bends and lifts you over his shoulder. “Jimin!” you squeal, laughing when he starts to carry you.

Spanking your ass again, he immediately rubs the sore spot. “Sorry,” Jimin grins, setting you down on the bed. “I probably left a mark.”

“I don’t care.” Sighing happily, you stretch out like a cat. “That was the best gift ever.”

Smiling, Jimin jogs to grab the towel and toss this into a hamper. When he returns, Jimin takes a running start to land on the bed. He collapses beside you, rolling over to cage you within his arms.

“Sorry we didn’t finish the massage,” Jimin whispers, blinking adorably.

You smile, carding both hands through his hair. “It’s okay,” you say, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. Jimin’s naked body is warm, flushed against yours. “I definitely feel less tense now.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours.

“Mhm,” you agree, smiling into his kiss. “Ten out of ten, in terms of effectiveness.”

“Ten out of ten, you said?” Jimin’s smile widens. “I hope you intend to prove that theory.”

“Of course,” you nod, lowering your head to his chest. “As soon as I take a quick nap.”

Jimin chuckles, smoothing hair back from your face. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love you, too.”

 © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

cross-posted to Wattpad here

[yoontopia]

𝟯𝟮. “𝗜𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂” | 𝗷𝗷𝗸

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader; genre: fluff, sort of idol!verse;  words: 2.8k

warnings: none ; rating: G

Part of the ‘100 Ways to say I Love you’ drabbles

author’s note: had to throw the long hair and tattoos in there, i couldn’t stop myself

You lay in bed staring blankly up at the ceiling, head void of thoughts. You could smell the barbecued meat despite your closed bedroom door, the deliciousness wafting in and making your stomach grumble. You know you need to get dressed and head downstairs soon, but the exhaustion from the past week is settling in and you cannot bear to move.

You hear your mother calling for you and you shout back in response that yes! you’re coming, for the guests will start arriving soon. Being back home after almost five years of being away at university halfway across the world had your parents throwing a very informal barbecue for the neighbours living on your street. It had been about a week since your return and your parents had been so excited that they had been treating you like a prized possession. You wondered how long this treatment would last, before your mom would start shouting at you to carry out your shares of household chores.

Sitting up in your bed, you looked around your bedroom. You had grown up here, spent your childhood and teen years here, but had moved away at the ripe age of eighteen, and never looked back. Your room, therefore, had remained immortalized, peeling posters of whatever rock bands you’d been obsessed with stuck on the wall. A small desk stood under the window, stacked with your old textbooks, the wall next to it covered with taped photographs of you, your family, and your childhood friends.

Smiling slightly to yourself you got out of the bed and made your way to the photo wall, looking at each picture carefully. Most of the photos were of you and your best friend Jooyoung, who had moved away for university herself. While the two of you had headed your separate ways after high school, you’d kept in touch, often video calling each other and giving out life updates. Jooyoung, in your opinion, was your soulmate, someone who’d been there for you since day one, who knew you inside and out. You missed her terribly and were almost sad that she wouldn’t be here today. Unlike you, however, Jooyoung visited home often, attending university a mere three-hour drive away.

Your eyes travelled to the other photos, some of you with your parents, of your old cat whom you terribly missed, until your eyes landed on one particular picture, which had been crinkled with time. It was a photo of you and Jooyoung at a lemonade stand out on your driveway, accompanied by a skinny boy with a mop of dark hair falling over his forehead. You frowned slightly staring at the boy’s face, memories flooding in. That’s right, Jooyoung and you were part of an inseparable trio during your school years, the third leg of which was made up by one Jeon Jungkook. Nerdy and geeky and video-game obsessed, Jungkook had lived across the street from you and you and he had spent many years being attached at the hip. This was, however, one of the only photos you had left of him.

At the ripe young age of fifteen, Jungkook had moved to Seoul on his own, having been scouted by some entertainment company. You remembered laughing at him with Jooyoung when he’d told you what had happened and had warned him that he was about to get scammed. But it hadn’t been a scam, and Jungkook had moved to Seoul and you’d never heard from him again. His emails had dwindled after a while, and once you’d moved away and gotten busy with your own life, you’d forgotten all about him. Your mother would occasionally give you updates over phone calls that he’d been training to be put into a group, that he’d debuted, that his group had gathered decent popularity in the country. Your mother had spoken with quiet pride, talking about Jungkook as though he was her own son. It made sense, you supposed, he’d been quite close with your parents, just like you’d been close with his.

You’d left Korea around the time he’d debuted and had never bothered to check his group out, partly due to not wanting unwanted memories to return. Jungkook had all but cut you and Jooyoung from his life and you needed no reminders of that fact. Their international popularity wasn’t very high, but if your mother was right, everybody in Korea with a working internet connection knew who they were. You supposed it was a flex, being a childhood friend to someone sort-of famous, but you doubted famous idol Jeon Jungkook even remembered you. You wondered if you’d even recognize him now, some seven years later. He was probably rich, and you were a struggling unemployed graduate moving back home to start your job search. Two completely different worlds. However, in your small, sleepy town full of fishermen and farmers, even famous Jeon Jungkook would have a hard time being recognized. This place was literally filled to the brim with the elderly.

Your mom calls for you again and you yell back that you’re coming. Walking over to your dresser you changed out of your sweatpants into jeans and a striped sweater. Shoving your feet into your bedroom slippers you took a deep breath before heading downstairs, pulling your bedroom door shut behind you.

You padded downstairs and joined your mother in the kitchen where she was busy setting plates.

“Need help?” you asked. Your mom smiled at you and handed you a bag of cutlery.

“Please put these out,” she said. “Forks in one cup knives in one cup.” You nodded and sat down on a stool near the kitchen island and began sorting the cutlery.

People were beginning to arrive, and you could hear them greeting your father who was busy cooking up a feast in the front yard barbecue.

“Where’s Seungwoon?” you asked, wondering where your little brother had gone off to. Your mother looked at the clock near the stove.

“I sent him to get some extra drinks. You kids will need drinks,” she let out a soft laugh. “I keep forgetting you kids are all basically adults now. I stocked juice yesterday, but I realized you’d probably need alcohol too, so I sent him to buy some.”

“You sent an eighteen-year-old kid on a booze run?” you snorted, and your mother laughed along.

“He was eager, so I put him up to it.” She said and you laughed. It felt nice, being back home, hearing your mother’s laugh in person.

“How many people did you invite anyway?” you asked, leaning to look outside. It was a bright sunny day, the sweltering August heat shining through the kitchen window.

“Not too many,” she said, putting some bread in the oven to warm. “The Sungs’ next door, Sooyeon and her husband are coming, although Jooyoung isn’t home, I’m afraid,” she looked over at you apologetically and you sighed. “She’s interning and working through the summer and couldn’t get the weekend off. They work her to the bone, but she really sticks to it. Let’s see… a couple more families that you probably don’t know, they’re new on the street, moved in three or so years ago. They don’t have any kids.”

“So there is nobody my age!” you said in surprise. “Seungwoon didn’t need to go get alcohol just for me and him mom, I can drink the juice.” Your mom laughed at your outburst and looked at you, hands on her hips.

“They Jeons’ are coming, and they have two fully grown kids who will need to be fed and watered,” You stopped sorting forks and looked up in mild shock. Your mom smiled knowingly. “Junghyun’s back for the weekend and I believe so is Jungkook,” she sighed as she said that. “Boy he must be a true Seoul child now – I wonder if our cheap countryside liquor and food is up to his current tastes, I haven’t seen him for years, unless its on TV of course.”

“So, you just want everything perfect because we’re having a minor celebrity over?” you asked glumly.

“Can you blame me?” she exclaimed. “You’ll see what I mean when they come, he’s different. People from Seoul are just different. I bet he drinks some fancy overseas brand of beer.”

“He’s not from Seoul,” you snapped. “He’s from here and if he looks down his fat nose at our country bumpkin ways, I’ll sit on him like I used to.”

“I’d like to see you try,” your mother grinned. “He’s had his growth spurts while yours seem to have forgotten you.”

“I’m short because grandma is short!” You exclaimed, but only half annoyed. Your mother laughed again and changed topics. The rest of the time was spent in you setting out plates in a pile and mixing the dressing into the salad and bringing out the napkins for people to grab. Your brother returned shortly after, and you helped him unload the soju and beer into the fridge. Then you resumed your seat at the kitchen island, scrolling through your phone while your mother had you taste everything to make sure it was edible.

“Stop fussing mom,” you said, at last. “Everything tastes good, and dad’s barbecue ribs are always a hit.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just excited you’re back,” she sighed. “It’s nice to have some help in the kitchen like this, just us girls.” The two of you shared a smile. Just then, the doorbell rang. Your brother opened the door. You turned to see who it was, and a smile split on your face.

Jungkook’s mother came in first, holding a bottle of wine that she put down next to you. She gave you a big smile and you let out a little squeal and jumped up to give her a hug.

“Oh my! You have grown so much!” she said laughing, pulling you in for another hug. The two of you were so busy catching up that you almost didn’t notice a tall figure entering after his mother. When you looked up, you finally saw him, and you had to exercise great control to stop your jaw from hitting the floor.

Because right there, talking quietly in the entrance to your house to your little brother, was Jeon Jungkook. You wouldn’t have recognized him off the street. He was tall, broad, wearing a well fitted black sweatshirt and black jeans that were ripped at the knees. A pair of expensive sunglasses were tucked into the front of his sweater. His hair was long, falling into his eyes, and curling around his ears, which had been pierced in multiple places. The silver of his hooped earrings shown every time he moved his head. You blinked – was that a tattoo peaking up from his sweater and curling around his neck?

Forcing yourself to turn your attention back to Mrs. Jeon, you laughed awkwardly at whatever she had been saying, only hearing half of it. Suddenly feeling small and awkward, you turned back to your phone and buried yourself in it. Jeon Jungkook had gone out and come back looking like a walking magazine cover and you still looked like you did at fifteen, only now with two degrees to your name. You tried to tune everything out as you scrolled twitter, hoping that you’d suddenly become invisible to everyone around you.

“Guk!” his mother called affectionately, and you bit your tongue trying not to curse out loud. “Look who’s here!” You heard him walk over, could smell the faint cologne as he approached his mother.

A soft voice said your name in mild surprise, and your chest constricted because you hardly recognized his voice either, which had deepened in the last seven years. You locked your phone hesitantly and turned in his direction, trying to meet his eyes.

Round brown eyes blinked back at you, containing the surprise that his voice also held. You gave him a small smile in greeting.

“Hey Jungkook, how’ve you been?” you asked, hating how meek your voice sounded.

“Kids, go upstairs,” your mom said from her spot at the stove, not bothering to even look up. You suspected she felt as small in Jungkook’s presence as you did. You sighed and got off your seat slowly and beckoned for Jungkook to follow you. He did.

Once in your room, you sat down on your bed and Jungkook awkwardly took a seat at your desk chair.

“So,” you started, letting the word drag out. “A singer, huh?”

The tips of his ears went red, to your surprise. You’d expected confidence, even cockiness. He rubbed the back of his neck almost shyly.

“You know?” he asked. You shrugged.

“My mom’s a fan,” you said truthfully, snorting. “I’ll be honest though; I’ve never checked out your music.”

“Ouch,” he said, and to your surprise, a look of genuine hurt crossed his face. But you blinked and it was gone. “How are you?”

“M’fine,” you said slowly. “It’s weird being back, but I’m getting used to it. I’m done university and now I gotta job hunt y’know.”

“Right,” he said, sounding impressed, and you didn’t know why. “What was your degree in?”

“Dual major in biochemistry and pharmaceuticals,” you said. His mouth opened and he looked genuinely stupefied.

“Woah that’s like, cool,” He said, and you let out a small laugh because he sounded genuine. “So, you’re like an academic.”

“Kinda?” you said. “It doesn’t feel any different though. I’m unemployed for now.”

“I always pictured you doing well at school and stuff,” he said, still sounding awed. “It’s a good look.”

“A good look?”

“Dunno, science? It’s a good look, it suits you. It looks good on you.” You blinked. Nobody had put it that way before.

“What? That’s such a weird thing to say,” you said huffing out a laugh. The tips of Jungkook’s ears went even redder.

“I’m just saying I always pictured you being successful,” he said softly. You frowned.

“Are you serious right now?” you asked. He looked at you, head tilting in a heartbreakingly familiar way. “Who’s the more successful person in this room right now? Aren’t you like, a millionaire?”

“I only finished high school!” he told you and you gaped at him. “I never got to go to university, so I think it’s cool that you got out of here and did all that all on your own.” His sentence ended in a mumble. The two of you sat there in silence after that.

“Was it hard?” you asked after a while. He looked up at you in question. “Was it hard giving it all up?”

“Yeah… I guess,” he said. “But what part of life isn’t hard?”

“Was it worth it?”

“Yeah,” he said and this time there was no hesitation, which had you smiling. “I did miss all my friends though.”

“Like me,” you joked

“Like you.” He said simply, and the smile slipped from your face.

“You stopped keeping in touch,” you whispered.

“Keeping in touch made me sad,” he said quietly. “I was homesick a lot back then, and all I wanted to do was run away and be able to go to school with everyone again. Your emails and updates made me sad and homesick.”

“I’m sorry that’s not what I—” you started but he cut you off with a knowing smile.

“I know, but to a fifteen-year-old it felt like the end of the world.” You stared at him.

“Yes, but now you’re like… you,” you said at last, finally letting yourself sound impressed. “Don’t you have a gaggle of fangirls throwing themselves at you? I swear that’s what happens to good looking famous boys.”

“You think I’m good looking?” he asked, his bashful expression disappearing replaced by a small smirk. You swallowed but decided to play nonchalant.

“Have you looked at you?” you gestured at him and his smirk widened.

“You’re still so cute,” he said simply. Your cheeks suddenly felt a tad too warm. You were about to ask him what he meant by ‘still’ when you heard your mom calling you both down for drinks. You stood up.

“C’mon,” you said and walked to the door. When you looked back you saw Jungkook still stood near your desk, staring at the photos taped to the wall, a small smile playing on his face, his hand on a certain crinkled picture. “Guk.” The nickname slipped out accidentally.

He looked over at you, and you tried not to blush under his gaze. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this man was the same boy who beat your brother at every video game and who you used to sit on when he annoyed you and who you and Jooyoung had bribed into putting on a full face of his mother’s makeup at thirteen. But as he approached you, you couldn’t help but feeling that maybe he hadn’t changed all that much after all.

“Let’s go I’m hungry,” he said. “Hey, do you guys have any juice?”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed.

[fletcherr]

hi ! i’m maren and i’m bad at intros ! and bios ! and things in general ! ... why am i here again ? uhm. anyway ! this is fletcher and uh ... he hates it here askdjfs like i can’t lie i’m so sorry but for the time being it’s ... lowkey the truth ? i’m writing this part of the post first so fingers crossed i manage to keep this short and to the point. if there’s no tldr it’s because this was supposed to be it. ( spoiler ; i failed. it’s so fucking long you literally do not have to read it i am so sorry. ) i’m super excited to be here and cannot wait to get to know you and your muses and be a part of this amazing group !!

THE APP !

˖ °╰ ⌜ [ MUSE TEN, ROBERT PATTINSON, 31, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ] hey, have you seen FLETCHER DUNCAN ? last time i saw them i think they were hanging around THE ROOFTOP. they can kind of be VEHEMENT but can also be pretty HAUGHTY. they’re often caught listening to SUPERSTAR SH*T - DOMINIC FIKE ! they also tend to remind me of cheap cigarettes put out in still half full glasses of rare bourbon, flipping off paparazzi, showing up to important meetings bleary-eyed and twenty minutes late, wearing sunglasses inside and black hoodies on the hottest day of summer, feeling uninspired for months then writing three albums worth of songs in two weeks ! let me know if you’ve seen them around, they’ve been working at the championship around FOUR MONTHS and they’re late for their shift !

THE BASICS !

full name: fletcher ralph duncan ( born fletcher ralph irvine )

nicknames: prefers fletcher, but is okay with fletch or duncan

date of birth: november 18th, 1989

gender: cis male

pronouns: he / him

height: 6′1

tattoos: some stupid ones without any deeper meaning to them on his arms and thighs, for sure

THE ( VERY ) IN - DEPTH ! tw for mentions of abuse of drugs and alcohol, terminal illness, hospitals, and death

after years of marriage, fletcher’s parents had him when they were both about to enter their forties, as one last, final attempt to find back to the love they’d had for each other when they started dating way back in high school. it didn’t work. his father left  when fletcher was four; leaving divorce papers on the kitchen table two weeks before christmas. him and his mother, winnie, moved from one of the suburbs to a smaller, more affordable apartment in brooklyn. they were never quite comfortable, money-wise, but they didn’t struggle either. two years after the move, his mother started seeing a guy she’d been introduced to through friends from work. fletcher adored richard from the first time they met, and as the years went by he came to consider him more of a dad than he ever did the one who left. that’s probably why he didn’t mourn when his father passed suddenly and unexpectedly the summer he turned ten. the following summer, winnie and richard married, and both her and fletcher completely rid themselves of the man who walked out on them when they both changed their last name from his to richard’s - duncan.

when richard moved in, he’d brought an electric guitar and a sparse record collection with him. these were fletcher’s first real introduction to music. he dove in head first. there’s no telling how many evenings they sat in the living room, records playing, or fletcher practicing on the guitar until he was caught up with his dad’s guitar skills. turns out, he was actually a bit of a natural. after he’d mastered his first instrument, he moved onto another. his mother - who’d been a classically trained, lifetimes ago - taught him to the best of her ability on a keyboard they got from a yard sale. he spent hours at a time in record stores. championship vinyl had always been richard’s favorite, and it wasn’t long until it was his favorite too. consuming music wasn’t enough, though. by the time he was in high school, fletcher was writing his own songs; creating his own music. of course - none of it was ever remotely up to par with the songs he kept discovering, but it didn’t matter. him and two kindred spirits he met at school formed a band, performing covers and the stuff he wrote. to afford actual gig gear - not that they ever booked many of those - fletcher applied for a part time job the only place he could think to; championship vinyl. though he'd been a regular for the better part of a decade by that time, he was still in disbelief and awe when he got the job.

fletcher thrived at championship. he took on all the shifts his schedule would allow him, and even skipped class to cover for anyone that asked. even when he was off the clock, he’d hang around. if he wasn’t flicking through new inventory or catching up with the whoever was at work, he’d be sitting on the rooftop with his guitar, a pen and a roll of receipt paper - scratching down song ideas and testing out new material. things were looking up; he was a creatively fulfilled high school senior with a job he loved, parents that supported- and loved him unconditionally, and he’d just been accepted into nyu. therefore, it rocked his world when his dad stopped by during one of his shifts, only to collapse while fletcher had his back turned to find a rare vinyl he’d set aside for him as a surprise. 

the diagnosis was a death sentence. months flew by in the blink of an eye, and he watched the only dad he’d ever truly known wither away before his eyes. weeks shy of a year to the date of the diagnosis, on the day richard duncan passed away, his son brought the old record player and the by now weathered records from the brooklyn apartment to the hospital room. he drew his last breath surrounded by the music and the family he loved.

not recently having gone through the same kind of world crumbling sorrow and the revelation about not wasting away and following your dreams that walks that’s bound to follow, his bandmates weren’t all that keen on the plan fletcher presented them with; movin to la and making it in music. really making it. with one of three members hellbent on leaving, the band broke up. they never could agree on a name, anyway. he turned in his resignation at championship, and jokingly promised james namsen to not come back until he’d won a grammy. winnie, though heartbroken to first lose the love of her life, and now having her son move away, had nothing but support and encouragement to offer when he announced he’d be dropping out of college to pursue music.

the first two years, nothing happened. he was living and working in downtown la; the apartment he shared with four roommates was just shy of being a shoebox, and the franchise record  store he eventually scored a job at lacked the soul and the hum of energy he was used to from championship back in new york. just as ambition and hope was wearing thin, things were starting to look up for him. he was meeting the right people in the right places, at the right times. after opening for a few up and coming acts, he was approached by a manager, who in turn introduced him to a few labels. though he was very aware he wasn’t a strong vocalist, he was confident in himself as a musician and a songwriter, and it seemed so was the internationally renowned label that ended up offering him a contract. his first single dropped not even a year later, soon followed by his debut album.

though his star was slowly rising, the album made only a miniscule splash. he toured it as an opening act and played a handful of shows on each coast. going back into the studio to work on the next album felt different. making the first one hadn’t felt authentic. not the process, nor the result. he’d been too agreeable; too eager to please and too eager to show he was worth everyone’s time and money. this time around, he was more assertive and demanded more control over the creative process. less co-writers were brought in, and he now had a say in which producers he worked with. his sophomore album released to generally positive reviews and ratings, but it seemed that would be it. then, almost over night, his shit was doing numbers. big numbers. 

sure - his label was running some promo for his sophomore album, but it seemed most people were catching wind of his stuff by word of mouth. people were actually buying his albums. both of them. when tickets to his second headline tour went on sale, they sold out in days. dates were added and venues were upgraded to answer the growing demand for tickets as more and more people found his music. he was playing famous venues now; legendary venues. festivals with hundreds of thousands of attendees. all over the country. all over the world. if he didn’t have a microphone or a guitar in his hand, he had a beer. or vodka. maybe whiskey. sometimes a joint, sometimes pills. he was at parties, then he was hosting parties. then he was at parties hosted in his honor. for the first time in his life, he had money. hard, real, fuck you money. he paid off the student loan he’d racked up during his one year stint at nyu, and the mortgage on the apartment he’d grown up in. he bought a house in beverly hills, and a two story apartment in brooklyn - both of which had shelves custom made for the gilded statuettes and trophies declaring him to be the best in a slew of categories. he’d done it. he was twenty-six and on top of the world. invincible. and then his mom's heart gave out.

for the three years that followed, his career suffered as he partied harder. friends he’d known for years disappeared, and were replaced with new faces that all blurred together. there were scandals, but they too were all a blur - leaked pictures and videos; shows he decided last minute he didn’t wanna do; shows he couldn’t do because he showed up too far gone to stand upright. people who got too close to him on one of the bad days, who’s faces he scarred forever. arrests, and settlements made outside of court. the label was getting antsy too, and when it passed the two year mark of the last time he’d set foot in the studio, his team - headed by the same manager that been with him through it all; that’d seen potential and believed in him all those years ago - pleaded with him to get help. begrudgingly, fletcher agreed. after a few months at rehab, he returned - clean, and determined to get back to work. the process was longwinded and intense, but the finished product was, in his eyes, solid gold. and - luckily? surprisingly? - the world at large agreed.

he toured the album with dates booked at relatively smaller venues this time around, but everywhere was packed full to the brim with people. throughout the time working on the album he’d been doing okay; staying sober and surrounding himself with good intentioned people. but being back on the road took a toll on him he hadn’t expected, and it didn’t take long for him to turn to alcohol when it was so easily accessible all around him, at all times. still, things were fine, and he was even relearning to appreciate the electric energy of performing live in front of an audience. to celebrate the last show of the us leg of the tour, the label threw an afterparty for the band, the team, the crew, and their friends. as people were starting to leaving the venue, fletcher sent some members of his band and a couple of their friends ahead with a key to his suite at a hotel nearby, while he thanked the label executives that’d been at the show. when he showed up, a glass was shoved into his hand, and as the party picked back up, someone got out the pills they’d kept at the bottom of their pocket all night. when offered, fletcher - on top of the world once more - accepted. 

someone snitched. and to the media, no less. when confronted by his team, he denied it. after being open about his struggle to overcome addiction, something like this would be damning for the reputation he’d rebuilt over the last two years. which is why he lied through his teeth. but then the videos from the suite appeared online, and his ruse was up. the rest of the tour was cancelled, and after completing a thirty day program, he was back in brooklyn.

it took some convincing, but he eventually went along with the ‘find back to your roots by returning to where it all started’ plan his team had cooked up. he also agreed to let someone else run his social media accounts for the time being. how his manager had gotten him a job at championship, fletcher didn’t know. he suspected a monthly bribe the size of his paycheck and then some was involved. but then again, he’d never known james namsen to be that kind of guy. for the first few weeks, he showed up for his shifts - sometimes on time, sometimes not - kept his head down, tried to engage with as few customers and co-workers as possible, then ditched as soon as he was off the clock. but there’d always been something special about the record store on the corner of bedford and sterling. soon enough, he began occasionally going up to the rooftop once his shift was over. approaching customers to offer his service before they approached him. show up early to catch up with whoever was working the shift before him. if he was having a particularly good day, he’d stop by to hang around even if he wasn’t on the schedule. he was well aware he wasn’t always easy to be around - years of living the high life and putting up walls having made him cynical, and standoffish, and discourteous. even if the boy he’d been when he walked out of there years ago was long gone, championship vinyl had stayed the same. and though fletcher’s yet to admit it, being back felt like being home. 

[q-u-a-c-k]

rant that you can just skip over 😂 it's just detailed intrusive thoughts. and I'm continuing to rant about literally everything that goes through my brain so I am here writing this and not acting on thoughts or being stupid.

okay so this is a note from after I have written all that. and basically it's complaining and ranting about everything and hyperfixating on space and science in the end. in the middle I talk about my fears of love 😂 potentially triggering stuff? it's all nonsense you really dont have to read it. it was just to keep myself from doing something I shouldn't. so if you could be triggered by literally anything maybe dont? idk. I cant stop you but it's probably annoying and not interesting. if anyone does read it though let me know if I need to tag it anything.

So my brain has now decided that because there is no way I am sleeping tonight unless it's exhaustion, I get intrusive thoughts. fun! so rn it has been fixated on the fact that because I am closest to the outside. not hall door. that I could easily sneak out. which is very much not good idea, because 1) I dont live in this area, 2) it's still cold as fuck outside at night, 3) I would literally fucking get lost or caught immediately. So yeah :) I dont even know what I would do if I did go and I don't want to because I have an idea of what brain would say and that's a big no. it's especially big no because I'm too comfortable with the idea of it but I'm not allowed to. and I guess now it's kinda good because brain is thinking about how I miss my cat. I just wanna see my baby and be in my safe place with the people I'm actually comfortable with (cat and phone with online friends) like guys he's so fuckung adorable and what if he doesnt know why I'm not there right now. usually he sleeps in my room at night. so what if he's in my room waiting for me and I cant go see him. you're damn right that I'm crying about this. i just want my baby because he is my baby and an indicator of a safe place.

also I am so incredibly fucking uncomfortable. like I cannot sleep because 1) in a place I do not know 2) there are people (family) in the room that I am not comfortable letting my guard down around 3) there's so much noise from snoring (and from one sleep talking) 4) I am on the couch because when we go places I'm always the one who has to and it's a shitty pull out bed couch. it makes way too much noise that I have been in an uncomfortable position for over 3 hours because I dint want to disturb anyone else. and I can very easily feel like of the metal bars under the middle of my back 5) I am very cold. I forgot a blanket and I didnt get one because the room only gave us one extra one (I dont think we're supposed to have an extra person) ad my sister got it even though I'm the one by the outsid,door, window, and air conditioner which wont turn off. I at least have my flannel though to cover my legs 6) my head hurts so bad because it's the kind of headache that hurts to have eyes open, breath, or move around in general 7) my stomach hurts so bad because I had to eat because apparently people get hungry and are supposed to eat along with anxiety from literally all of this 8) I have not gotten to be alone for more than 10 minutes since the middle of Wednesday whereas usually I spend almsot all of my time alone (with cat and phone with online friends) in my safe place. 9) I have not stopped crying (not really like crying crying but like there has been tears or water from my eyes because for some reason they burn and some because of anxiety or missing cat. 10) I keep thinking that at any moment I close my eyes someone is going to break into the room or one of my family members are gonna do something (I literally dont know what, that's intrusive thoughts talking but I have previously freaked out because I thought they were gonna aliven't me for no reason) 11) When I'm somewhere I'm not used to I get really bad muscle cramps in my arms and legs and I am not having fun with that.

sorry that was a shit ton of complaining that nobody should have read or give a shit about. so sorry if anyone actually read that?

also Allison, if you actually do read this (istg you really dont have to. like I said this is just my train of thoughts written to prevent me from doing anything. I am not watching wandavision until later today 😂 and I am staying off the discord server I joined becuas of potential spoilers.

anyways continuation of rants and complaints. I really want to put the phone down and attempt to sleep even though I know I'm not gonna be able to and for that reason I have to write here because I do not trust myself with my brain being like this rn. but I wanna put phone down so bad because my eyes hurt and my head hurts from having eyes open.

and I really wanna just get my earbuds out and have controlled noise and potentially fall asleep but that would take noise louder than them to drown them out but any noise already is hurting my head and earbuds sound really uncomfortable right now.

also I'm starting to get really cold again because the flannel was working for a little but I think that was because I had to move a little bit to get it out and on my legs and I haven't been moving.

also my sister (sleep.talker) has been just making noises and mumbling all night except just now she went "eww" and rolled over and continued snoring and sleeping. so that's fun. totally didnt scare me.

oh my God it's fuckung almost 3:30 I just wanna sleep. at this rate I dont care in what way it happens, but I want sleep in the next 10 minutes so I cannot be aware of how uncomfortable or in pain I am.

my back (which usually already has back pain) connot stand to lay on the bar in this position anymore so I have to move but it's so loud and I dont wanna wake anyone up or move into a worse position but feel bad for moving.

I have now moved and I dont THINK I woken anyone up. back is better but head hurts so much more now because of movement and I am now laying on my knee which I have a lot of problems with and am not having a fun time.

idk what to talk about. I want sleep or to at least put phone down but like I said multiple times I do not trust my brain rn so I have to keep writing stuff. and I dont want to just keep complaining but idk what to talk about and complaining is easiest rn because I was out in an uncomfortable situation by coming with them and I didnt want to in the first place but would not be able to stay home.

I am now gonna talk about sleep and my thoughts about it. I like being asleep but I also dont. I like being not awake but most of the time do not like the dreams I have. but sleep itself is such an interesting concept. like the body forces itself to shut down and put you unconscious to like rest itself or repair before continuing to function. and it's like (supposed to be) on a specific or close to schedule. like youre supoosed to have a schedule for when you're unconscious. and this is completely normal. a part of our society is actually shaped around this too? like at certain times around the world it gets all dark and the world goes quiet for a while. idk I just think it's really interesting. maybe it's not idk lmao.

and now brain wants to talk about how and why I am afraid to love. :). brain is afraid to love because that means I have to be vulnerable to someone and that's just so terrifying to do, especially being someone who is different than a lot of the heteronormative society. like I absolutely love my friends. and once I'm comfortable around them, I'm gonna tell them that I love them as much as I can (but also dont want to make them uncomfortable). because if I finally feel comfortable enough around you to be vulnerable and accept that I love you despite brain's overwhelming urge to say I don't and be invulnerable and safe, I'm gonna tell you that as much as I can that I love you. because it literally happens so little in my life that I actually really trust someone. so if I tell you I love you I mean it (and it tells you I trust you). like seriously, I barely even say it to my mom because I'm so on guard and trying to watch my back around her. and I dont think I say it to the rest of my family. unless it's my grandparents I'm gonna tell them that because I think I do just in a different way of your my grandparent and you're family. and I occasionally say it to my irl best friend because there's still a lot I'm on guard about because I haven't told her a lot of things so we're not as close as you'd think. but if you're reading this I have probably told you i love you. and i know Allison i tell you as much as i can because I think yyou'rethe absolute top person that I trust and love, so i try to tell you a lot. because I love you!! you're like my entire found family 😂

but now we're gonna talk about reasons why I'm terrified to be in love romantically. Because I dont think i have actually liked someone romantically or really ever be romantically interested in anyone. I have thought about it because I felt like I had to tell myself I was ( I was not). like i thought I had a crush on someone once but I think it was because I was unable to be their friend at the time that I wanted to be their friend even more. and because I never really got to pick my friends I didnt know what it was like to actually want to be friends with someone. but thinking about someone romantically I just cant really do. because I don't want to get into a romantic relationship if I don't know if I'm gonna like them romantically at all. do people like people romantically when they first go out with someone? or do they just say I kinda like this person let's try it out? because that just doesnt make sense to me and idk. and it could very well be that I'm just to young to know yet. because I still dont even know what I would want from a romantic relationship. like... Idk what there is for me to want or what's different to loving your friends besides calling them something else? and the whole having to trust that this person likes you in a specific way that you might like them before you take it far enough and get hurt because they just don't feel the same? or you're the one that's not really sure and potentially hurt someone else? I know people say it's just a risk you're gonna have to take but I dont want to take a risk like that. I dont mind being hurt from it myself but in terrified at the thought that I could potentially hurt someone because I just dint feel a certain way. and I still dont know what the difference is between friend love or romantic love to be able to judge or risk that? like seriously what is different? because I mean, maybe affection like have someone to hug or cuddle? but you could do that with friends and it should be a normal thing to have with your friends. but ig this still is a fucked up society that thinks everything has to be more than what it really is. and it just leaves people touch starved because of it. idk. maybe one day I'll figure it out, but how it's just Greek and foreign to me. idfk.

well that was fun. now it's 4 and I need something else to talk about because even if I do potentially fall alseep soon, I do not want those to be my last thoughts and possibly have dream about it (dreams for me are typically not good).

I think I see the moon. it's either a moon or a parking lot light. and I know the moon is either full or very close to full (I'm pretty sure it's just very. close) but I wish all of those lights outside were off and possibly have a new moon so I could see the stars. I love the stars so much. i love the moon, too, but right now it's very bright. but I wish I was more into astronomy and knew more about it. because that's also something that's very interesting to me is space and the stars. I wanna be someone who knows about all of the constellations. but I have a horrible memory and absolutely would not be able to remember 88 different stories. although I'd want to. even though most of them or a bunch are just Zeus being a dick. but more to the science side of the stars is so interesting to me that they're soooooo far away. like they're literally incomprehensibly far away. like I cannot comprehend how big a football field is without see one, I'm agine being able to comprehend the distance of light years? like I know we know how far it is but I'm pretty sure human minds cannot comprehend how far that ACTUALLY is. even if we know it's a LOT. and isnt it cool how we're able to know there are other planets outside of the solar system? I believe it's 4 different planets that we know of that are MORE inhabitable than earth. like better to live on. and they have either older or stronger stars that wouldn't die out as fast as our sun. although there comes the debate of if we should be able to go to them. it's a very debatable question, but I think overall the answer would be no. because humans have fucked up an entire planet, why should we be allowed to do it to another? like it realize it's literally a percent of humans that fucked it up for the rest of the planet, but humans have an inner need to have power over everyone else and other things and would stop at nothing to get what they want. humans could so easily become corrupt and destroy other planets too. it's kind of a fucked up thing to say, but I feel like maybe humans should die out with our planet. like of course it's not fair to the ones who haven't had the chance to live a life yet. but it was never fair to the other creatures humans killed for their own needs. like we have caused extinction several times. karma will get you back in the end ig. and it would be cool to know but obviously we wouldnt be able to know, if a species even smarter than humans evolved and kept the peace on earth, even as the ruling species? ruling sounds wrong but idk what else to call it. whatever we are above everything else is what they would be. but it would be so amazing to know what smarter beings are alive or could eventually live. like that's so fucking cool.

anyways I should probably try to sleep or put phone down because now brian doesnt have time to let me do anything I shouldnt. it's 4:30 😂 someone is probably gonna wake up soon because idk.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 118

Chapter Summary - Danielle gets work done before meeting someone new.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

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tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

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‘Did you steal our dogs?’

‘Maybe.’

‘I am all alone.’ Tom put on a fake upset voice.

‘You poor thing, go play with your friends.’

‘I am not twelve.’

‘No, but you’re acting like you are.’

‘Where have you gone?’

‘The office.’

‘You brought the dogs to the office? What about if Bobby needs the bathroom?’

‘Then I will bring him out. They are chilling here. It didn’t seem fair to just leave them at home, we won’t be too long.’

‘What time are you coming back?’

‘About four-ish leaving here, plus traffic.’

‘Okay.’

‘What are you planning?’

‘A surprise.’

‘That sounds dangerous.’ Danielle smiled.

‘It might very well be.’

‘I will see you soon, Mr Hiddleston.’

‘I love when you call me that.’

‘Bye then.’ Danielle placed the receiver down and looked at Mac, who was looking at her curiously. ‘Wonder what he is up to.’ He gave a groan, waking Bobby, who looked around worriedly. ‘Don’t worry little man, just Tom being silly.’ On hearing Tom’s name, Bobby looked around again before getting comfortable against Mac once more, since there was no sign of his other human. ‘Not much longer now.’ Amelia knocked then entered. ‘Perfect timing, could you send the last of the Branagh work for me please.’

‘Already done.’ Amelia did not even look at her, instead, she was focusing on the dogs.

‘You’re not scared of dogs, are you?’

‘Em, maybe the big guy, but….’ She looked at Bobby.

‘Yes, our little boy is terribly cute. Aren’t you?’ Bobby’s head popped up as Danielle spoke to him. ‘Where’s my little boy?’ He watched as Danielle walked across the room towards the other woman. He got up and ran over excitedly as Amelia’s stoic demeanour broke immediately as Bobby tried to get her attention. She scooped up the puppy who was licking her face. As she cooed over him, Danielle went over and gave a happy Mac a belly rub.

‘Does he get jealous?’

‘I don’t give him a chance to.’ Danielle smiled at Mac. ‘You’re as important to me as my other boy, aren’t you?’ Mac nudged her hand. ‘I know people are going to give him all the attention, so I counter it, by looking after Mac.’

‘He’s sort of intimidating looking.’

‘It has its advantages, I have not had anyone in my face with him with me.’

‘Is it weird?’

‘The situation with being Tom’s partner and having all these people follow me around even though I am literally so boring and not famous? Yes, it is very weird, and Tom is very much the same outside of his work, honestly, I cannot understand what people are so obsessed with.’

‘The normality is probably half of it.’ Amelia commented.

‘Perhaps, but it is annoying. I am just glad we are not like Ben and Sophie with kids.’

‘No, that would be difficult.’ Amelia continued to play with Bobby. ‘I don’t want to get back to work. How do you get anything done?’

‘I have no choice, I need to make money to spoil my doggies.’ Danielle smiled as she gave Mac another scratch before going to her desk again. ‘If I want to get this done and home for whatever plan Tom has, I need to stop playing around and sort myself.’

‘Easier said than done.’

‘Indeed.’ Danielle smiled. ‘Now, I better get this done.’ She pulled herself away from Mac. ‘Bobby,’ The puppy looked at her. ‘Bed.’ The dog waddled over to the other dog and curled up. ‘Good boy.’

‘How does he know that so well?’

‘He is learning quick, especially with his big brother giving him instruction.’ Danielle smiled as Mac moved to help Bobby get comfortable. ‘It’s so cute how he looks after him. I almost feel guilty for not getting him a buddy sooner.’ She looked fondly at the dogs. ‘Right, I am going and getting my work done.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Not your fault.’ Danielle dismissed. ‘This is mostly me not wanting to do this paperwork.’

‘I will get what you need.’

‘Thank you.’

*

Come four o’clock, though slightly delayed by puppy potty training and a lack of wanting to do the work, Danielle had the majority of her work done. When she heard a knock on her office door, she wondered who it could be when Mac rose and wagged his tail, she had her answer. She opened it and smiled. ‘Hello.’

‘How did you know it was me?’ Tom asked, walking in.

‘I had my security tell me.’ she pointed to Mac, who was sitting awaiting attention, to the side of him, Bobby was half sitting, half standing, his tail wagging furiously as he tried to do as he was learning was acceptable, but his excitement not able to be contained in his small body.

Tom leant down and gave her a small kiss. ‘You don’t mind me coming?’

‘Not at all, but I will be another small while, getting work done has been hard today, I don’t want to work, but I have to.’

‘I hate those days.’ Tom sat in the chair across the desk from her and paid attention to the dogs. ‘Is it all paperwork?’

‘Yes, which annoys me because I want to do it at home, but I can’t because I need to send it off, and it needs to be done securely here. So, I left it all for today and the bunny at the controls is not too pleased.’

Tom chuckled as he scratched both dogs ears. ‘And you chose to bring the boys with you?’

‘We are literally at the verge of fully training Bobby, we need to get him sorted and us being gone for the day meant he could have reverted, I am not setting him back like that, he will be so good when he is one and he is doing so well.’

‘He is.’ Tom agreed with a smile, looking at the content looking puppy. ‘Do you think you will take much longer?’

‘Why, have we plans?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Ooh, I am curious.’

‘Odd, I thought you were Elle.’

Danielle stared at him for a moment before laughing. ‘That is so bad.’

‘It is, I’m sorry, sort of.’

‘I won’t be too long more.’ She promised as she forced herself to get back to work.

As soon as the last file was confirmed sent, Danielle turned off her computer, tidied her belongings and looked at Tom, who gave a grin and put on his jacket. When the dogs realised the humans were readying to leave, they got to their feet. ‘What about the bed?’ Tom pointed to the blankets Danielle had brought to her office.

‘Leave them, I am going to bring them with me when I can, I don’t want to have to drag something with me every time I come here.’ She smiled. Tom smiled and clipped the leads onto the dogs, handing Bobby’s to Danielle. ‘Ready?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ He smiled.

‘I am not going to lie, I am worried as to what you are doing.’

‘We are having dinner.’ Tom informed her.

‘Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad.’ She eyed him as he looked at her from the side of his eye. ‘What?’ He did not answer. ‘Who are we meeting?’ He could not meet her gaze. ‘Tom?’

‘Chris.’

‘Hemsworth?’

‘Obviously.’

‘Tom, Marvel seems to be contracted to have a dozen Chris’s on payroll at any one time, you have to be sure.’ Tom chuckled. ‘So we are going out for this?’

‘No, I did not want to make you uncomfortable, I thought we would have something at the house.’

‘Okay.’ Her tone lacked enthusiasm.

Tom halted and looked at her. ‘Wait, are you okay with this?’

‘I...Yeah.’

‘Elle, please be honest with me.’

‘I just….I knew this was coming, so this is nothing to do with Chris, I am nervously excited to meet the guy that is like a brother to you, honestly, I am, but the idea of going home and dealing with cooking a meal and….’

‘Would you rather we didn’t?’

‘I am so conflicted, because the other option is to go out and that means dressing up and bleuch!’

Tom chuckled at her reaction. ‘Which would you rather?’ She said nothing for a moment. ‘You actually want to go out?’

‘I was going to ask if we could go out tonight anyway, I feel like getting dinner somewhere.’

‘Why didn’t you say something?’

‘I wanted to see what your plan was first.’

‘This brings it all together, but this….this is meeting a friend of mine, in public?’

‘Tom, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’ve been found out, months ago in fact.’

‘And you are okay with this?’

‘Well, I am not too fond of noisy bastards in my business, but the idea of dishes tonight.’ She smiled. ‘Is he dieting for a role?’

‘Why?’

‘I really want somewhere with proper good food, not fancy shite.’

‘I will ask,’ Tom smiled. ‘You really want this?’

‘Yes.’ He pulled her to him and kissed her, only for a moment, but the emotions he wished to convey were expressed in that moment.

*

Danielle laughed as Tom went red while Chris told yet another terribly embarrassing story from their escapades from their times on the different Thor and Avenger films.

‘Please stop.’ Tom begged.

‘You are regretting this so much right now.’ Chris chuckled.

‘I am, actually.’ Tom conceded.

‘I am sorry, it’s partly my fault,’ Danielle laughed. ‘Excuse me a moment please.’ She smiled as she rose from the table and went to the bathroom.

Chris took a drink of his water and looked at Tom. ‘She’s something else, Mate.’ Tom beamed. ‘You really love her?’

‘I do.’

‘She seems to be incredibly grounded and intelligent and honestly, so….you.’ Chris grinned. ‘So, how serious are we talking?’

‘Well, she had a dog already, but we got one, together and we are looking at getting out of the city.’

‘Wait, house hunting, together?’ Tom nodded. ‘When will I have my suit ready for?’ He grinned. Tom frowned. ‘What? Pets, houses, that is a serious commitment, the wedding can’t be too far off.’

‘It’s only been a year.’

‘Elsa and I were together ten months when we were married.’ He reminded his friend. Tom was forced to concede that that was true. ‘Look, Mate, when you know, you know. It just feels right.’

‘Elle is on the up with work, she is after getting her own share in a company, years before she had planned to achieve it.’

‘Good for her, sounds like she will do great if that is her initiative. But marriage wouldn’t change that. Babies change it, I am not even going to lie a little to you there, Mate. But marriage, that’s not the same, I mean, there is a lot of work in it, but it allows you both a lot of freedom still with work. Does she have plans for that stuff?’

‘Marriage was never something she felt she needed to have.’

‘Against it?’

‘No, just not overly bothered.’

‘Bad parental situation?’

‘No, her parents were married for thirty-seven years, her mum’s death was the only reason it ended.’

‘Odd, I was always led to believe girls wanted marriage, a sign of commitment.’

‘As if a house and dog aren’t?’

‘That’s true actually.’ Chris conceded. ‘So do you think she is it?’

‘I hope so.’ Tom admitted.

‘I do too, Mate. She is a right one. I like her, she gives off a good vibe, like she is cool with most everything this career entails, and I don’t think I am the only one to say that.’

‘No, most everyone does now. Ben is mad about her too, he was before I ever got my act together and did something about my feelings for her.’

‘Ben’s another one that is good at judging character. Honestly, Tom, she’s great.’ Chris noted Danielle coming back into the room. ‘She’s so different to Taylor too. No need to imitate your fashion.’

‘She did not…’

‘Tom, don’t try and defend it man, she did.’

‘Who did what now?’ Danielle asked, wondering what was going on.

‘I was saying how you don’t need to copy a guys style.’ Chris admitted, not sure how Danielle would react to a mention of an ex.

‘Oh, yes. I have a sense of identity and self, so I don’t need to copy this month’s squeeze.’ She winked as she took another drink of her water. Chris chuckled. ‘You okay?’ She asked, looking at Tom who seemed slightly uncomfortable.

When he said nothing in response, Chris laughed slightly. ‘I think he is worried about leaving us alone for a minute.’

Danielle studied his face. ‘I think you’re right.’ She nodded. ‘We’ll be fine, right?’

‘Well, I am going to try and convince you to run away with me, if that’s what he’s worried about.’ Chris joked, causing Danielle to laugh. ‘Go on, we won’t be offended, we need you to be gone to talk more about you anyway.’

‘That is not the least bit worrying.’ Tom commented as he rose to his feet and made his way to the bathroom.

‘So, do I pass the test?’ Danielle asked curiously when Tom was out of earshot.

‘Which test is this then?’ Chris grinned.

‘The “good enough for your friend” test.’

‘Flying colours.’

‘Good to know.’ Danielle felt herself beam at his declaration.

Can I ask you something, and I do not mean this offensively?’

‘Dare I say yes?’

‘How much of a bitch are you, when the situation requires it?’ Chris asked, sensing that Danielle would not be overly offended by such a question.

‘I once told Swift that should she feel need to jump off the face of the planet, we would have….what were the exact words, oh yes, something along the lines of “we would still have our Recommended Daily Allowance of moaning cunt who can’t get over her ex covered, because we still had Adele”.’ Chris stared at her in shock. ‘Does that answer your question for you, Mr Hemsworth?’

Chris laughed as he looked at her intently. ‘You need to meet my wife, she would love you.’

‘I have seen interviews with her from movies before, she seems like a lovely woman. And from what Tom says, a lovely mum too.’

Chris nodded. ‘You don’t understand, our kids, they are her life, she loves them so much, and I see the days when she calls me on set, she is so tired, and they are pulling out of her, and I know we have a nanny and everything….’

‘But some days Mommy is the only one they want.’

‘Exactly, and she looks like all she wants is to hide in the laundry room, but if she goes there…’

‘She is faced with the laundry of three active kids and two adults.’

Chris paused for a moment and studied her for a moment. ‘How do you….?’

‘My job is to assess an environment and see what are the contents of it. A laundry room, by virtue of being called that, will contain such things, and I have never heard of a family where the wash basket is empty when there are kids, it is literally the most common complaint I overhear, that as soon as it is emptied, it starts filling again.’

‘Yes, that is true.’ Chris chuckled. ‘Was it like that in your house?’

‘We were lucky, I was self-sufficient at a young age, my mam would cook, but I would help with the house and my dad’s practice, so I was well able to throw on a wash.’

‘You have no siblings?’

‘Nope, just me, I have a fair amount of cousins though, so I was never too lonely.’

‘And you are friends with Tom’s sister?’

‘Emma is my best friend, I really get on with Sarah too, but Emma, she is probably why I ended up not running back to Ireland, her and Diana, their mam, they looked after me when I got here, so I never got too homesick.’

‘You have his mother onside too, that’s good. My mother took a while to warm to Elsa, though I don’t take it personally, she was the same with Miley and Samantha, she is just overprotective of the family.’

‘Well, as long as everyone is happy now,’ Danielle smiled. ‘Look who’s back, and looking scared?’

‘Nothing of the sort, I am just happy you two are getting along.’ Tom smiled, looking at Chris as he put his arm around Danielle, his friend giving him a nod as he did.

‘Well, with you as the common factor, we were both bound to be wonderful and intelligent people who would recognise such.’ Danielle smiled.

‘I am not gonna lie, I like you.’ Chris declared.

‘I rock this “get your friends to like me” thing.’ She leant into Tom to speak but made sure that Chris heard her.

‘Yes, you do.’ Tom beamed.

As they left and said their goodbyes, Chris pulled Tom in for a hug. ‘Tom, I say this with only your wellbeing in mind, never let her go.’

‘I don’t plan to.’

‘I mean it, I am going to have my suit ready.’

‘Jesus, don’t start.’

Having not heard the first part, and not understanding the reference in the second, Danielle stood smiling, but unaware as to the situation.

‘Elle, a pleasure and I cannot wait to see you again.’ Chris leant down and kissed her cheek.

‘Likewise.’ she smiled, noting his use of Tom’s nickname for her. ‘Have a good tour and safe journey.’ She waved as he got into a taxi and it drove off. When she looked to Tom again, she noted an odd look on his face. ‘Hey, everything okay?’

‘Better than okay.’ He smiled as they walked back to their car. clearly thinking of something else. ‘Thank you for tonight.’

‘Thank you.’ Danielle looked at him. ‘We brought your car, and you had something to drink.’

‘Yes.’ He grinned cheekily.

‘Oh for goodness sake, you….’

‘I win.’ He grinned, handing her his keys.