#that way the ultimate struggle between light and dark would have again and again come down to a kenobi and a skywalker

[outsideratheart]

By Your Side, Always (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: We’re supercampeones!!! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you like it.

The first 45 minutes of the game you were having fun, the whole team was. Levante knew that Barcelona would make them work but tonight you and the team were putting on a world class performance. They were never a team to give up but with 7 goals scored and them not being able to find the net, they struggled to find hope and accepted their defeat. They were now fighting to keep the score at 7 and it started to get messy. 

It was clear that you had been made a target by Levante’s entire back line. You didn’t care though, you could take it. If anything you welcomed the physically because it meant you were allowed to give them a taste of their own medicine every so often. 

Alexia wished she could be on the pitch with you but she must admit it was fun being in the stand watching you play the way you were. 

“She’s showing off” Mapi said to no one in particular as she watched you dance around their left back even looking back and smirking to her once you sent the ball into the box. 

“She’s unstoppable when she’s like this” your girlfriend says. 

She regretted her choice of words not even a minute later. There were two defenders between you and the goal. You were determined to make it 8. That is until you get taken out by not one but two players. You felt one set of studs go into the outside of the ankle and another set on the inside. You truly had never felt pain like it. 

Alexia heard your outcry of pain and could do nothing but watch as you laid on the floor clutching your ankle. 

“I need you to get up. I need to go to her” Alexia stood to her feet, desperate to be by your side. 

“You can’t go onto the pitch” Mapi slowly got up, careful not to knock her knee. 

Her warning fell on deaf ears and Alexia was already rushing towards the pitch. As expected she was stopped by Jona but she stayed near the sidelines waiting for you. 

“Please get up” Alexia whispers to herself. She began to fear the worst when she sees the physio signal for a stretcher. 

“We both know she’s too stubborn to use it Alexia. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be up” Jona pats his captain’s shoulder in support. 

The coach was right. It took a little longer than Alexia would have like but you are up on your feet. It’s obvious that the injury is bad because you are using the teams physios as crutches so you don’t put any weight on your ankle. 

What is the ultimate telling sign is the way you refuse to meet Alexia’s gaze when you get to the sidelines. Nevertheless she follows you into the tunnel and waits by the door of the medical room. 

“Come with me, please” you have your back towards Alexia but she can hear the pain in your tone. 

“I’m here” 

Alexia sits on a chair beside you as the physio begins examining your ankle. At the first touch you wince and move your foot away which only makes it hurt more. He gives you a couple of minutes to compose yourself but asks to try again. Your arms hide your face as the pain becomes excruciating. The only thing stopping you from breaking completely is the soothing way Alexia is stroking her hand over your thigh. 

“They’re almost done. Try and breathe for me ok?” 

And try you did but you also failed. It was a form of panic and you knew it. 

The physios explain that they think it’s major ligament damage and that they will take you for scans once you’re back in Barcelona.  

“I’m going to give you some space. Alexia, make sure she ices it and try to get her to stay still. Give it ten minutes then she can put the boot on and use the crutches. No weight on it, understand?” 

“They studded my ankle, not my ears. Don’t speak about me as if I’m not here” you sit up quickly. At least now you understood why you needed to keep still. 

Alexia got up as the physio left. She places ice on your ankle as gently as she could before she turned out the lights. She knew that when you were overwhelmed the darkness help calm whatever you were feeling inside. 

“Whatever it is, i’ve got you. I know how you think and how you’re going to want to do this alone but that won’t happen. I won’t let it”

Alexia moves the chair so that it was closer to your head. She places a gentle kiss on the crown on your head. 

“I don’t want to talk about it” 

You turn your head away from her. That hurt Alexia but she knew it was your coping mechanism and once you’ve processed what’s happened you will be more open to talk.

Alexia had just opened her mouth when she heard a door slam and a lot of foul language. 

“That’s Lucy and if she’s in here for the reason I think then I’m going to kill her” 

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes. You weren’t in the mood for this and deep down she knew the reason why the English defender was now in lockeroom even though there is 10 minutes left, maybe less. 

“Y/N I’m coming in” technically it wasn’t a question but still she could have waited for a response. 

“Get out” you growl. 

“Oh did I interrupt something” Lucy gives you both a playful look. 

“You’re a fucking idiot Luce. I know for a fact you didn’t get subbed off because that wasn’t part of the plan so that only leaves one reason” 

“Y/N calm down” alexia begs.  

“I was defending you. They took you out. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it” Lucy met your anger and walked towards you. That was a mistake. 

“Get out!” You stand up and your own weight collapses underneath you. 

“Lucy, please” Alexia begs your England team mate who raises her hands in defeat and leaves you be. 

She then helps you back on the bed. A couple of minutes pass and you hear the final whistle following by the cheers of your team. 

“I’m not going back out. Torre can lift the trophy” 

“Y/N. You’re their captain and you scored a hattrick. It should be you up there” 

“Well I’m not going to be and you can go tell them. Go Alexia” 

She saw the look in your eyes. The look, which in the past, told her that your mind was made up and there was nothing she could do to change it. 

“Just come out when you’re ready. We don’t let moments pass by without celebrating them. You told me that” before leaving Alexia made sure she turned on the TV so that you could at least watch the trophy ceremony. 

You didn’t like what you just did but you did it anyway. Alexia has had a tough few weeks and she need this, she needed it more than you needed her. 

As instructed Marta lifts the trophy and you feel fine about it. Barcelona has a group of leaders but it just so happens that only one can wear the armband. 

The silence wasn’t comfortable and it started to put you on edge. You saw the boots and crutches by the examination table taunting you.  

Don’t let the moment pass by. 

Alexia watches Marta lift the trophy and then celebrated with the team like they do after every trophy win. She hoped you might have come out by now. 

She is near the centre circle when she hears the crowd errupt. She may have her back to the tunnel but she knows it’s you. 

“I thought you said she wasn’t coming out” Jana asks. 

“No. I said she wasn’t lifting the trophy” Alexia knew you would come out. Due to your slow pace, no thanks to the crutches, Alexia met you half way. 

You let the crutches drop to the floor as you wrap your arms around her neck. 

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just —“

“Needed a minute. I know. You’re here now and that’s all that matters” she lets you rest against her as your hands you the crutches. 

“Have you been crying mi amor?” She noticed the tear staines on your cheeks. 

You nod slightly and she can see that something is going on in your head because your eyes begin to well up. Alexia cups your cheek and gently wipes away the stray tear that has fallen. 

“You don’t have to wait until I’m not there to cry Y/N”

“I know” 

Side by side you walk towards your team mates who are all ready to greet you. Bruna is the first one too you, of course she is. 

“Here” she hands you the game ball “I got everyone to sign it for you” 

“Thanks B. You know I’ve got so many of these I’ve lost count. Why don’t you go give it to a fan?” The young forward takes the ball back happily and runs towards a little girl. She makes her turn around so that you can see the fan is wearing you shirt. You send her a little wave and it makes her day. 

“I don’t want to be injured” you stick your bottom lip out causing you girlfriend to chuckle slightly. 

“We’re professional football players, we never want to be injured but sometimes it happens. There’s nothing we can do about it” Alexia was full of wisdom. 

She definetly didn’t feel this way when she got hurt but you decide not reopen old wounds. 

“And these things are stupid” you wave one of your crutches around. 

“Are you going to be complaining everyday until you’re back on the pitch?” 

“Yes Alexia, I am. If you don’t like it then tough because you’re stuck with me” 

“I’m ok with that and I’m ready to return the favour because we both know I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine when I got injured” 

“You can say that again. I almost sent you back home to your mothers” you were teasing her and she knew it. You didn’t like being more that 5 feet away from Alexia when she was hurt. 

“We both know if I went back to my mama’s that you would be right behind me” 

You could only nod in agreement. Alexia suggests you do what will be half a lap of the pitch so you can thank you fans. It’s a slow amble but she doesn’t seem to mind. The rest of the team had walked ahead so now it was just you, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid. 

“Does this mean we can do our physio together?” Mapi asks you. 

“No” Alexia and Ingrid say in unison. 

“Why not? We will push each other to get better” 

“And that’s the reason why. You’re too competive, you will make it into a game and we” she points to herself and Alexia “know that it’ll end badly”. 

When you are back at the hotel you are dragged into the celebrations and for the most part you don’t mind it. After a little while you realise that Alexia isn’t around and that is something you do mind. You feel yourself getting more anxious without having her calming presence beside you. 

Then you hear your phone go off. 

Come to you room. Your rehab starts now. 

When you enter your room, Alexia is standing outside the bathroom. 

“I’m going to need you to remove your clothes” Alexia says and your eyes widen. 

“Ok” you pull your shirt off in record time, the shorts however were more of a task. 

“Let me” once the injured leg was free alexia places your crutches aside “rest on me” she tells you. 

She looks up grinning like a devil which makes you shake your head. She always did have half a mind in the gutter when it came to you. 

“Maybe later” she pecks your lips and doesn’t expect for you to pull her back in for something more passionate. 

“Sure, Putellas”

She pretends to act offended at the use of her surname. Alexia then uses her strength to lift you backwards and onto the bed, something she could have done earlier. 

“I’m going to take your boot off. It might hurt” she was so gentle in the way you undid the Velcro straps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” she says when she hears you wince. 

“I’m ok” you reassure her even though you were far from it. 

What happens next came as a shock but a good one. Alexia lifts you up and carries you bridal style towards the bathroom where you are met with a bubble filled bath. 

“You did this for me?” 

“Yes. Although I’m going to be joining you so I guess it’s also for me” 

“Are you now?” You tease. 

Alexia nods her head in excitement with a huge smile plastered on her face. 

Your girlfriend helps you in and then lowers herself behind you. With one hand on your thigh and the other one on your abdomen, you allow yourself to relax. As you tilt your head back to rest against Alexia it gives her full access to your exposed neck and she takes advantage of the opportunity. She knows things can’t get too heated so she settles with peppering kisses on your sensitive spots. 

The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes cold and your hands like like prunes. 

“You’re strong Y/N, you’ll be ok” Alexia says as she lays in bed with you. You have a movie on and somehow Alexia has gotten some popcorn. 

“I’ll be alright” 

It wasn’t how you expected the night to end. You thought you would be celebrating with your team, jumping for joy and taking advantage of the free champagne. Instead you are in bed, with you leg elevated and ice compressing the injured area. The this one commonality in the current and what come have been; you have Alexia by your side. 

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫. 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.❞

If you were a song album, what songs would you have?

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PAC summary!

ִֶָ☾. Detailed.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. What song titles would you have?

࣪ ִֶָ☾. What genres would it be?

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Why the titles, genres, and what is the meaning of the album?

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Channeled songs.

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I

What song titles would you have?

Three of pentacles reversed.

‘’She was a sexy star.’’

‘’Paint, paint, calm the little one, once a star.’’

“Mad crazy, what a hottie.’’

‘’Butterflies were my favorite, are you one too?’’

“Cute, cute, I'm so cute, yes I am.’’

‘’What did you think would be fair?’’

‘’Alone working tonight.’’

“Gonna have fun being busy with tears in my eyes.’’

“Swift in the rain, nowhere to be seen.’’

“Lost and hurtin’, at least I have you now.’’

“Kiss my ass already.’’

What genres would it be?

The lovers reversed

Rock, pop, or a mixture of those two with folk.

Why the titles, genres, and what is the meaning of the album?

A lot of you like to mix and match your aesthetic and personality, not for the sake of others but because you believe it helps you heal from certain situations. The problem comes from your limited knowledge about how your mind works and what works best for you. As you go through a situation, you become lost around yourself and detach from parts of yourself. And as things keep occurring, you keep removing who you once were. There were times you sought to bring yourself back again, but the fear of remembering the past has eaten you. You are scared to see your past again. People think you move on fast, but that’s a lie; you have not moved on from the past, you ran away. Your past is your reminder for your faults, and you beat yourself up. You have become your own shamer and decided it would be best to have this personality of yours. Yet, you are struggling to show compassion for others despite going through with what they did. You went through the same thing and yet shamed them for it while ultimately doing the same thing with yourself. You kind of have this mindset of, I don’t remember it, but I will act like I did and move on with my life. I don’t think you see it or understand that it’s damaging your heart and mind. You have embraced your darkness.. But that’s all there is to your personality. A lot of you have family members who are concerned for your outbursts and rebellion. It’s completely new to them, and instead of explaining your reasonings.. Which you have no idea about, you push them aside and cause ruckus for everyone that adores you. You only have qualities of your darker sides; some of your lighter sides are trying to come back into your life, but you have kicked them away. You were insecure with them and believed your darker side was better, yet they were equally the same. People have too many misconceptions of the light side being weak and the dark side being stronger when it doesn't matter. When you have a balance between them, you become stronger. You are naturally confident, you can show love to others without becoming the victim of toxic people, and you mind your business. You become intelligent and cunning, but never use it for ill intentions. That was something you wanted, but believed the darker parts of yours were your friend. In a way they are, but you have used those parts in the wrong manner.

A lot of the song titles were focused on confidence and loving yourself, but some of them were also gloomy. Do you see the meaning behind those titles? “What did you think would be fair, alone working tonight, gonna have fun being busy with tears in my eyes, swift in the rain, nowhere to be seen, and lost and hurtin’, at least i have you now.’’ Sure, you ooze natural confidence, but at what cost? The cost of being alone, sobbing yourself at night, wishing you never did this to yourself, and losing yourself in the process because your past hurt you too much? Our past helps us not make the same mistakes again; making the same mistake isn’t a bad thing. It’s beautiful if you see it from another perspective. You need it to see it from a healthy perspective. Yes, the mistakes we make hurt us, but without actually understanding where the mistakes actually came from.. Or why it was caused in the first place, or even how you can learn from it.. You can never truly grow and become a butterfly.

And once you are able to heal from this and bring yourself back from it, you will genuinely tell those who have hurt you to ‘’kiss your ass already.’’ This is why your genre was rock, pop, or with a mix of folk. You will have a lot of spirit during your growth and healing journey, as folk music is relaxing with some beats going up at different moments. That's how you have felt with your journey. It feels chaotic sometimes, and sometimes you wonder if it's worth it in the end. Yet you know in your heart it's worth having the hope you have been painfully crushing and grabbing on since you were a kid. Don't feel the need to grab on that hope; let it go and allow it to come into your body naturally.

Three of cups.

You are also swimming around the surface of finally getting where you have always wanted to, but you must take that final step. Something felt missing with your reading as I finished hearing your channeled songs. You have people who want to see you blossom and have your true self back. But are you ready to become them? Are you ready to move past and stop idolizing your darkness and learn that having some light to you isn't a bad thing? That it’s rather beautiful. Are you even ready to embrace yourself once more and become a butterfly? Are you ready to create a beautiful masterpiece through your love for music, or would you rather keep composing the same music and making the same mistake without a potential to grow into a beautiful composer?

Channeled songs

It girl - Aliyah’s Interlude (before healing)

Harpy Hare - Yaelokre (after healing)

Masterlist ʚїɞ

Pile II

What song titles would you have?

‘’Fast and furious.”

‘’Come on the top.”

“We ride it all night till we party till death.”

“Kill the lady, she done no wrong.”

“Murder on my mind, can’t stop it no more.’’

‘’Soak it all up, we wildin’ all night long.’”

“I’LL KILL YOU ALL TONIGHT! Maybe a bit later, I’m a bit lazy, so tired.’’

What genres would it be?

Queen of swords.

Phonk, and some metal. I also hear elegant pop. Pop music that sounds way too fine and elegant. You ooze the feeling of showing too much natural confidence, and people think that you are playing around.

Why the titles, genres, and what is the meaning of the album?

The chariot reversed, ten of cups reversed, knight of cups reversed, six of swords reversed, and two of wands.

You have gone through a period of pain. People have made you doubt yourself, and you were surrounded with people who adored manipulating you. People thought you would be easy to manipulate because you appeared weak, when that was far from the truth. However, those that were closest to you knew that people were like that with you, and instead of showing genuine love for you, they let it happen to you. Even though you were able to deal with most of the social manipulation, you still had to deal with the betrayal. And those feelings have caused a lot of anger surrounding your heart. Sometimes you think about hurting the people that were closest to you, but then you remind yourself that you want to do better and be better. To be on top and work hard to achieve your desires. But sometimes those thoughts reappear and make you think otherwise. And then you beat yourself up on it when it’s not necessary. You are allowed to feel anger, and you are allowed to feel like you deserve justice. You can feel these thoughts. But you have to remind yourself how deserving you are to feel these emotions and talk about them with yourself so your mind can stop overriding itself from how you are harsh with yourself. Stop allowing yourself to nitpick everything about yourself; would you do it to your favorite character? A lot of you love anime and have a crush on a fictional character, and you fantasize they can never do wrong with you. Why don’t you make that into a reality with yourself? Do no wrong to yourself and show yourself some compassion. Show the love you needed as a kid to yourself.

With ten of cups reversed and knight of cups reversed, tarot tells me that you are causing yourself resentment with yourself. You keep insulting your future self. You keep making yourself feel anger because you are adamant that if your future self does something different, they are useless, a c*nt, or they won’t gain your love. The thing you must understand is that just because your present self wants this in the present moment does not MEAN your future self is interested in that. People always grow out of their shells, and your future self will do the same. They will want things differently because they learn things differently. They know more about what they want in their present moment because they were able to grow. Don’t you seek that growth, or are you too scared of change and desire to stay where you are? Daydreaming about these fictional characters because you are too scared to face reality. The idea of escaping feels better to you, yet it drains you. That’s why your genre would be PHONK or metal. Aside from the actual genre, understand it from a literal direction. Phonk is different rhythms and beats combined to make something sound good, but there is no voice. You lack voice with yourself as your mind has already become chaotic because you won’t do the things you actually want and instead procrastinate it and wonder why things are not changing. And metal would be screaming. You are screaming to yourself, hence the murder parts in the title for the things you want, but it goes in vain because you want things to be summarized. You want things to be done in a flash so you do not actually have to do the work. Your attention span to your life has worsened so much, not because you use your phone so much or your gaming devices. But because you don’t even listen to yourself. Your friends hurt you; you knew people treated you badly—how about yourself? You think it’s okay to be an ass to yourself just like those that hurt you? Be kinder to yourself and become your own best friend. If you don’t, you will only get hurt at the end, just as knight of cups reversed says.

Six of swords reversed says the same thing here. You know you must make a change in your life, but you won’t because you fear finding purpose in your life. You must understand you make your own purpose, your own destiny, and you can make your own choices. You cannot control external factors, only internal ones. So learn to take care of your thoughts and become the best person for yourself. Learn to become brave to face your fears and use your comfort character to help you do the things you want. Take baby steps in becoming productive, and don't push yourself on day one. Think about an anime. At the start, it’s usually calm, sometimes boring, but it never truly gets into the climax. This is where you will learn to figure out what routine you want and what works best for you. Understand what you want to do with your life and how to make sure you relax and take care of your needs. Removing people that do not serve you no longer, removing attachments, showing kindness to yourself, etc. Then comes a situation occurring during the anime that will finally lead to the climax. But this is where you must take the leap, take a risk, and go for what you want. It could be finding a lover that suits what you want just as your comfort character or fictional crush. It could be finding better friends, learning to fall in love with yourself, learning how to cook or go to your dream school, maybe a dream school or college, etc. And then finally the anime goes to its climax, and it becomes very interesting. Yes,  there are ups and downs, but it’s interesting, is it not? This is where your ups and downs will occur, but since you are already well equipped with what you did previously, you are able to handle it because you have learned to be courageous, just as the two of wands show. Maybe a situation occurs and you do not like it and want to relapse into the same situation, but don't. The ending is finally coming, and it’s usually peaceful; if not, there is always a cycle that must end before peace comes.

Channeled songs

Hold up - Beyoncé

XO - Beyoncé

Masterlist ʚїɞ

Pile III

What song titles would you have?

‘’I don’t want to do this.’’

“It’s too much work—wanna procrastinate.’’

“Something is dark within’, whatcha got for it?’’

“Shadows.’’

“Ocean consumed us. It consumed you, didn't it?’’

What genres would it be?

Dark metal and Gloomy Pop with a hint of rap.

Why the titles, genres, and what is the meaning of the album?

Ace of pentacles, three of cups, six of wands (reversed), king of cups, and temperance (reversed).

You recently went through a breakup with someone abusive.. to a certain degree. Others have blamed you as the bad person even though you know it wasn’t the truth. You saw through their lies, and you saw how others had pinned you to be bad. To others, how can your ex be someone good if they were this innocent or shy angel? “It’s simply impossible.” The idea of doing revenge on them crossed your mind, but you have pushed it aside each time. Now, you are struggling if you should do it or not and are looking for answers everywhere and decided to ask a higher being you believe in or trusted tarot readers. However, they keep giving you answers you don’t want, so you cuss them out, moving on to the next. Listen to them.

I am not saying revenge is not the answer; I am not saying anything. I would rather speak to you in an unbiased manner. What is revenge for you? Revenge can be a revenge glow-up, finally having your dream life, or it could be hurting the people who hurt you or killing them. Everyone has a different meaning for revenge, but what does it really mean to you? Ace of pentacles talks about a new beginning, why don’t you use this opportunity and make a name for yourself? Stop procrastinating the things that have scared you and go do it instead. Sure, it will take some time disciplining yourself to get into that mindset, but in the future, you will thank yourself. The titles I channeled for you all aimed to someone else or something else. What are you hiding from yourself? What are you so scared to admit to yourself that you have to hide in the shadows?

There was a moment of happiness for you when the relationship occurred. You gave them the world, always healed for them, always did better for them, and wanted to have a common goal with them. But instead of a common ground with them, what did they do to you? Used you to ruin your reputation and then run away when you mentioned that goal. And now the people you loved turned against you, and you have nothing now.

Nothing to lose.

You have nothing to lose, so why don’t you give it your all and gain something this time? You are at a point where you can do whatever you want because there are no consequences. None at all. What did you want so badly during your relationship that you postponed it for their sake?

With six of wands (reversed), the card focuses on how you should not expect success each time. You have tried to reach for what you want, but each time you did, you didn’t set realistic goals. You expected a better outcome each time but never learned your lessons. Sometimes people become too excited because they have opportunities to grow and get to a better environment, but they forget how hard it is to get there. To get where you desire, you might have to hike for hours upon hours to see a beautiful sunset or view. Some people would call it dangerous and stupid, some would say it’s a waste of time and others would find it to be a great idea. Focusing on someone’s ideals isn’t what you should thrive for. Thrive for what you want instead. Learn to stop caring about what others’ say about you.

I am aware that everyone says it all the time, but they never give the person a direction to start, so when those thoughts arise, simply tell yourself that you do not care. That you do not care what others say to you. Keep saying this as doubts appear, and you will start to believe it. And as you do this, allow yourself to do the things you want to do again, but without any expectations. Set realistic goals. Let’s say you want to get an A on your chemistry exam. What goals do you have in mind already? Why not just strive for a B? Maybe a B is average or not good enough, but your knowledge is not based on a letter; it’s based on what you know later on. So maybe you didn’t do so well and got a C because of nerves and failed your goal. So what? Get back up and do it again until you get your B and then strive for a B+. Eventually, as you do it, you will understand you are capable of doing better and improving; you will learn how to be kinder to yourself and also learn better for the future.

As for why you have those genres or titles, it’s rather self-explanatory. To explain it shortly, you didn’t want to do something again because of your fear of failure and the expectations you had. (’’I don’t want to do this. It’s too much work—wanna procrastinate’’). Your abusive ex made your life a living hell, and you tried to help them become better as you were healing yourself to do better for them. You gaslighted yourself, thinking it was your fault when it was theirs. (“Something is dark within’, whatcha got for it?’’). The ocean ‘’consumed’’ the both of you, when in reality it was just them and their dark soul. It made you think worse of yourself, and you became more sensitive to the world. Letting people walk over you and make yourself start prioritizing others, thinking that is what was necessary when you were genuinely perfect the way you were when you had already healed. (“Ocean consumed us. It consumed you, didn't it?’’). Dark metal and gloomy pop is how you have been feeling lately, and your mind has been running in circles trying to understand everything, which is why rap was added. Taking those genres in a literal fashion instead of what it truly is about.

Since the meanings are self-explanatory, I do want to add something from my side. None of it is channeled, and think of it as a small message from me to you.

Sometimes we know what is best for us, and we try to strive for it. Sometimes we think it’s the final answer, but it usually isn’t. You can keep looking for answers, but it will consume you and make you drown for more. Sometimes peace is better than knowing the answer. Having peace of mind is better than knowing the answer. We don’t know why people who are like your ex do the things to us, but what I have learned is that they are hurting, but they are taking it on the wrong people. Sometimes you want to help them improve and change, and they become triggered, so they lash on you. Know that it’s not your fault for what they did to you. Just because they were hurting doesn't mean you deserve what they did to you, and you never will, not even for your past and the guilt and shame that is still lingering on. People can be assholes and never go through trauma, or they can be ones and go through one, but sometimes they go through something and it changes them for the better or for the worse. Don’t focus on the other person in this aspect; think about what you would do with that experience, and if it does occur to you, have faith in yourself to handle it just like you would have thought. You had a rational mindset during it, and it was unbiased, and maybe it wasn’t the same understanding, but it was still unbiased of how you would handle it. Even when situations like those don't arise, instead of listening to your heart in those painful moments. Take some time to think and then address it. Even if they ridicule and make fun of you because you are not talking or answering back, know that you are being rational and won't have any regrets in the end. Those tips have been helpful for me, so I would hope they would do the same for you.

Take care of yourself, and don’t blame yourself for that scumbag’s wrongdoings.

Channeled songs

Friends - BloodPop and Justin Bieber

In the Shadows - The Rasmus

Masterlist ʚїɞ

[raayllum]

So. This scene. A few things:

Love the way it's almost a parallel to Viren and Callum's dark magic dreams in terms of the spotlight effect and of course potential light/dark symbolism. And of course that score tugs right on the heartstrings

Rayla is a character who places a lot of emphasis on memory in her dialogue and action, partially because memory is the biggest source and antithesis of grief, something she's experienced a lot of in various ways (and often as the sole carrier of her family's grief). Her blades are all she has to remember Runaan and Ethari by (no pictures or other people who knew them as she did, unlike Callum, Ezran, and Soren with their loved ones) as she says in 4x08; she had to remember her parents throughout most of her childhood and now her other set of parents as well, as she spent 2+ years believing she'd never see any of them again; her vow to always remember and carry Callum with her in Dear Callum; and last but not least her "Just remember me, okay?" to him in 3x08 as a parting request, particularly reinforced since the Silvergrove literally erased her. Rayla is a character who greatly struggles to actually put down anything she carries with her, emotionally. So it's heartbreaking but unsurprising that memory is a focus here as well.

And then we get to the crux of it, which is just like all three of the parents that stand before her, Rayla has always put the world above her own needs and her own family, just as they put their missions and duty ultimately above her. It also nicely sets up the contrast between her and Callum in 5x04 as his response is the opposite to hers, as well as showing that Callum and Ezran are also her Family (and have been for quite some time). And I do also think that the memory of Rayla's parents here is what's helping guide her to her own conclusion to not spend any more time on the coins (and she does a very good job at masking her pain/grief about this season, much better than she had in previous seasons) because she knows, or believes, this is what they would do in her scenario. To prioritize the good of the world over their loved ones at the cost of great personal suffering. Speaking of costs...

The "at any cost" is a great motif callback to Rayla's repeated insistence on price paying ("But I'm ready to pay that price" in 1x06 / "But if I'll die, I'll just be paying the price they should've paid a long time ago" in 3x08) as well as her statement in 3x09:

Callum: We have one objective today: protect the Dragon Prince. Rayla: At any cost.

The fact it's about her literally coined parents is just a bonus, as well as the potential set up later of Rayla saying they have to stop Aaravos, at any cost, while holding an assassin's bow... (but that's for when the possession plotline comes back around I suppose).

Last but not least, the relative warmth of the vision sequence is taken away, as the apparition of her parents and their warm smiles fade, and Rayla is left alone holding the bow, but brokered by new resolve. And then immediately arrested seconds after she finishes crying. Poor girl can't catch a break

[sideprince]

A movie question I wanted to throw your way: what do you think about the decision to use a decent amount of physical acting on Rickman’s part for comic effect? I’m thinking his snatch of thin air in Philosopher's Stone, his creeping along the table towards Ron and Harry in Chamber, his dramatic point in that same scene, his walk up to the stage for Dueling Club, his whacking students in Goblet and Order, etc.

On one hand, I feel like this does match the tone of the books; he canonically lurks and prowls and points and snatches at the air, and his menace is often undercut by a physical description that’s meant to be some level of comedic. On the other hand, we don't see Snape nearly as much in the movies as we do in the books, so this aspect of his character seems somewhat overinflated by the movies?

TLDR I don’t think these decisions in the movie were completely out of left field, but it also feels off for some reason. Idk I don’t know how exactly to verbalize my feelings on the matter and wanted to hear your thoughts!

It will probably come as no surprise that I feel like any answer to this question is inseparable from the absolute hatchet jobs that are Steve Kloves' screenplays for the HP franchise. This reply is going to end up inevitably long (you ask me about my favorite subject, you suffer the consequences), but all of it is ultimately framed by the problem of having to make the best of a badly written script. (**edit: This post is way too long. Run away. Don't look back.)

The writing doesn't support the story

The first thing that jumps out to me is that there's a separation between where and how these comedic moments are used, up until the end of GoF and after. They're more a part of the story only until Harry's story arc reaches the point of Cedric's death, when he first witnesses death in the way that allows him to see thestrals after. GoF is when the story takes its first dark turn, and up until then the tone and story is much more in line with children's literature, so it makes more sense that Snape is portrayed in a bit of a playful way. After GoF - even though the films reveal it as an aside and much later than the original story does - Snape resumes his role as spy and becomes more integral to the story as a key character and is thus no longer just a foil in a children's story. I think what doesn't work about it is the inconsistency. The books have comedic moments with Snape too, which are cartoonish, up until the end of DH - I feel those are also out of place, but at least their existence gives a basis to what's done in the films.

Nevertheless, one of the biggest problems with the films is that they're badly edited. I'll leave that analysis for another post (you're welcome), but essentially these comedic moments feel inconsistent in part because there's often a disconnect between the performance a director has asked of his actors and the tone that's established in the editing room once pacing and a soundtrack are added. Any vision a director had for these films was muddled by the involvement of big studio producers and limitations. This is made more jarring by the way that Kloves has interjected light, funny moments in awkward ways throughout the scripts. He struggles overall to convey the world that Rowling has created, and if it weren't for the brilliant production design of Stuart Craig, Kloves' failures would be much more obvious (again, worthy of its own roast post).

Take the scene where Snape whacks Harry and Ron on the head in Gof: why are the students all studying in the Great Hall? Why are various years sitting together? Why is Snape overseeing them? It's a scene almost verbatim out of the book (Fred asks Angelina to the ball casually, he and George tell Ron and Harry to get dates "before all the good ones are gone," we find out Hermione already has a date), but like pretty much every scene that originally takes place in the Gryffindor common room, this one is moved to another location for no discernible reason. The main difference in the change is how restrictive it is: in the common room the children are free to be themselves, but in the Great Hall, under a strict teacher's nose, they have to be quiet and restrained. Another subject that would need its own post is the myriad of ways Kloves goes out of his way to rewrite settings and characters to avoid allowing them to express themselves or grow as characters, and how hard he works to stifle and limit them in ways that are convoluted and work against the story, as if he himself couldn't deal with any kind of emotional vulnerability (in a way, his scripts are a desperate cry for help). This directly contributes to why so many of Snape's comedic moments feel off.

The changes in the scene in GoF don't even make sense from a production perspective, as they required more actors, more lighting, and more setups. Instead of using the cozy setting of the common room to establish camaraderie between the students, Kloves replaced that energy and lightheartedness with Snape in a way that's uncharacteristic. The scene, as he wrote it, is already light and has humor, but Kloves doesn't trust it - he feels the need to exaggerate it and the casualties, as always, are the characters and their portrayal. It's as though he's following a formula and saying, "this page number/scene number must provide relief from the tension of the story" and then doesn't consider how following that directive fits into the rhythm of the narrative. It's closer to being an isolated scene akin to a comedy sketch than to a scene that's part of an act that's part of a film. It's worth noting that, in GoF, Kloves interjects this scene as if he's forcing this moment of comic relief into a story that didn't require it and then relies on playing off of Snape's usual seriousness as its crux. In OOtP, when there's a callback to it as Snape smacks Ron with a book again, it's no longer the point of the scene, but an aside in a comical montage focused on Umbridge (OOtP was also the only film not written by Kloves, so this moment is more likely the result of Michael Goldenberg trying to maintain a consistency with Kloves' work). Overall, I think that feeling of something being off is, again, more rooted in the writing than the performance.

Rickman as an actor playing Snape

There's a lot of criticism in the Snapedom of how Alan Rickman portrays Snape, but not enough acknowledgment that none of the characters are portrayed well, and most of it comes down to Kloves' writing of them. Book!McGonagall insists that all students under 17 are evacuated before the Battle of Hogwarts, where Movie!McGonagall only cares that the Slytherin students are locked in the dungeon, everyone else can stay, what does she care if first years die? Book!Hermione is intelligent and empathetic while Movie!Hermione is a two dimensional maternalistic harpy whose main job is to be a mouthpiece for plot exposition. Book!Ron is funny and brave and fiercely loyal, while Movie!Ron throws Hermione under the bus, is cowardly, and is reduced to a flatly written sidekick. Book!Harry is complex and while I could list a million examples, I'll stick to this one: in PoA when he finds out Sirius betrayed his parents, he's enraged but has no reply when asked if he'd want to kill Sirius. Movie!Harry says with conviction, and without prompting, that he wants to find Sirius with the explicit purpose of killing him. Every single character takes a hit because of how Steve Kloves writes them, and Snape is, sadly, no exception.

While some film shoots allow for improvisation, a big budget production on a tight schedule with scenes that require a lot of prep work can't afford to make many changes. So, for example, while Ralph Fiennes was asked to improvise his scene as Voldemort at the end of DH2 when he re-enters Hogwarts victorious (and that's why the dialogue is redundant and that weird hug with Draco continues to plague us), it could be done because the wardrobe and set and cast were already in place and the time required had already been scheduled in. It wouldn't be possible, though, to add an additional scene - like Snape going feral in the hospital wing at the end of PoA - unless it was written into the script. Additional actors would be required, which would mean coordinating with their schedules and adding them to the budget, not to mention scheduling in additional days with the crew who may already have other work lined up. It would require either pushing every other shooting day back - which is near impossible - in order to use the hospital wing set while it's still up, or tacking on production days to the end of the shooting schedule and rebuilding the set on those days. This can be done for necessary pickups that round out existing scenes, but you can't really say, "hey I decided we need a scene here that didn't exist before" without causing huge problems. Because of how contracts work, any significant scene changes would have to be sent back to Kloves who would have to write alternate scenes and/or dialogue, and even then if you wanted to fix a specific character's arc - like Snape's - you would have to add in so much that it just wouldn't be feasible. Screenplay lengths have to fall within a certain number of pages, because each page is approximately a minute of screen time, so adding a few more to a finished script mid-production is very difficult. The actors have to make the best of what's on the page. Which brings us to Alan Rickman, his choices as an actor, and what informed both him and the character of Snape.

Alan Rickman was a RADA trained actor, so his approach to a character involved a lot of physical work as well as character analysis. As far as I know, he was the only actor to contact JK Rowling directly to ask about his character, because he wanted to make an informed decision about how to play him since Snape was so nuanced and gray. Unlike some of the other actors (like Michael "DIDYAPUTYANAMEINDAGOBLETOFFIYAH" Gambon) Rickman read the books - those that were available when he took on the role, and each as they came out afterwards - and used them to inform his understanding of his character beyond what Kloves wrote (presumably in crayon with all the e's backwards). In interviews and Q&A's it's clear Rickman was fond of the HP books and story, and had a thoughtful process taking on Snape's character. He did not see him as a villain, because, as he's said, he didn't approach characters with that kind of judgment. And while I'm sure the egregious amounts of cash Warner Brothers threw at the actors was inevitably a factor for all of them, several of the ones playing teachers or other adults have said that they took on their role because a child in their life insisted on it, despite them being unfamiliar with the books, whereas Rickman's process was to read Rowling's books in order to decide whether to take the role. Again, he was a RADA trained actor, and thus had a meticulous approach to his work that followed a thoughtful, considered process and a decision based on whether he felt he could embody a character in a way that did them justice/if they were interesting enough to him. By the time he started shooting PS, he also had experience directing a film and was working as a director in theatre as well as still acting, so he understood the process from the perspective of not just an actor, but also as someone behind the camera, someone working with actors both as a peer and director, and someone sitting in an editing room.

We know from his diaries that he became increasingly frustrated with how his own process and expectations clashed with that of the producers on Harry Potter. He wasn't interested in renewing his contract after the first few films (goodness knows how much money they offered him in the end - his wife has said that he never let anyone else pick up a tab in a restaurant and if they argued, he would just say "Harry Potter."). He writes about seeing the films at premieres and being frustrated with how little story and development there is (especially for Snape), which makes me think there are deleted scenes somewhere that haven't been released. At one point he writes about a premiere party where he had internally lost patience with the three Davids (Yates, Heyman, and Barron). It's obvious that there's a discord between the work he wanted to do with Snape's character and what choices the production made:

He describes how, during the filming of the Yule Ball scene in GoF, there was an attempt to get him to dance but he refused because he didn't think Snape would dance:

It was a rare moment of potential for improvisation because, again, the set and cast and timing were already accounted for, and in this case there wasn't even dialogue. The scene where he smacks the boys with the notebook - as far as I know - was scripted. So there's a difference there in how much freedom he had, as an actor, to say no to what he was asked to do. Even in the above diary entry it's clear that, given his way, he felt the character wouldn't even be present in that scene, but he had no choice. This tells me that when he had more freedom to make choices, he did so based on his understanding of Snape as a character and, given that he was an actor who was both very respected (and got away with more than most) and also someone who could get argumentative about his character choices, I think this is the most apt lens to examine his physical work with Snape through.

Knowing that he wasn't interested in continuing the role of Snape after the first couple of films and that he was often frustrated with the lack of characterization and story arc, his physicality in his first scene in CoS (when he reprimands Harry and Ron for flying the car) says a lot. (Caveat that one of the reasons he didn't want to renew his contract was that the shooting schedule restricted his schedule and he wanted work on other projects, but I can't help but wonder if that had been the case had HP provided a more satisfying process.) It's almost certain that he had read all the available books by the time the scene in CoS was filmed, including PoA where Snape becomes apoplectic with rage in a way that, to a child reader, is comical (and intended to be) and to someone analyzing Snape is clearly rooted in triggered trauma.

Alan Rickman knew from the outset that Snape's motivation was his love for Lily, so he would have understood the dynamic between his character and Sirius re: who Snape thought sold Lily out to Voldemort. He would also have understood that Snape's reaction in PoA was more about distress and anxiety, and that this was connected to the promise Snape had made to protect Harry for Lily's sake. This would have therefore informed his portrayal of Snape's anger at Harry in CoS, and it's reasonable to assume that Rickman was trying to walk the line between the way Rowling portrayed Snape in full unhinged rage in PoA, what this tells him about this character when angered, and the connection between the moments in PoA and CoS when it comes to Snape's anxiety over Harry's safety. Unlike the author of a book however, who has full control of how they tell a story, Rickman was an actor in a film - an inevitably collaborative medium which therefore made his portrayal reliant on the decisions of others as well.

Chris Columbus, the HP movies, and feral Snape

PS and CoS were directed by Chris Columbus, the guy who directed both Home Alone and Home Alone II and Mrs. Doubtfire. He was a successful director from the 90s tradition of children's movies whose sensibility was informed by the era's attitude towards children's media: kids wanting to see themselves in narratives, in ways that felt empowering and allowed them to process the confusion of a world run by adults in playful, quasi-cartoonish ways within a 3 act structure where the villains - mean adults - get their comeuppance because it feels fair. One thing that set Harry Potter apart was that the villain was not the mean adult; Snape, the mean adult, is a character kids can hate and project their own experiences onto, but Voldemort is a true villain who represents evil and is vanquished by the hero. Chris Columbus established a tone for the first two films that was no longer apt by PoA, not only because it didn't work for the story, but because that 90s era of children's movies had ended and the culture moved on to more complex narratives (and Columbus has focused more on producing than directing since, because his style doesn't work for audiences anymore).

What's ironic about the way Snape's scene at the start of CoS comes off is that, in the book, there's a great comedic moment that's left out:

This is cut from the film, and instead it's Filch waiting at the top of the marble stairs who catches Ron and Harry being late and delivers them to Snape (I don't know why, the scene in the book is much more dynamic and would have taken up about as much time on screen). Rickman, meanwhile, is using the information he's gotten on who Snape is from the books, and imbuing some of that feral Snape energy into his portrayal of a Snape who is genuinely angry:

(Thank you for making these gifs @smilingformoney , they are truly the gift that keeps on giving.)

The thing is, no matter how much of feral Snape Rickman brought to this, no matter how menacing his performance is, this moment still lives within the dynamics of a Chris Columbus children's film. It gets cut off by Dumbledore's entrance - meant to be a comeuppance for Snape, since Dumbledore (being the voice of wisdom and fairness in this world) prevents him from punishing Harry and Ron (you know what, at least in the books they got detention, but ok). Despite Rickman's performance, Columbus as a director has framed this scene in the same context as the one Kloves cut. The tension is brief, and the focus is on Snape being foiled, because it's what children want to see - a mean adult experiencing consequences. It's down to the editing and soundtrack, choices Columbus made in the editing room. In addition, we don't know how many different ways an actor tries a scene, only what ends up in the final cut of a film. The process of the work done on a set is often much richer and more diverse than what an audience sees in the finished film.

Tbh I think this is also why Snape's feral moments were cut from PoA: it's a darker film, but had to straddle the line between being for both children and tweens and not getting too playful, nor too intense. As much as I want to see feral Snape on screen, it's extremely difficult to make work in a narrative that is about Harry and his friends. It either skews too intense, making the audience uncomfortable because seeing an adult becoming unhinged and in pain is difficult and frightening for most young people, even adults, and would therefore take away from Harry's goals and narrative as well as his changing relationship to Sirius (all of which is already barely supported by Kloves' writing). Alternately, it could also skew too comical and over the top, which takes the audience out of the tension of the film's climactic moments.

If Snape's story had gotten more focus and screen time, an unhinged moment would be better justified because the audience would have been more invested in the character and their arc. PoA sidesteps pretty much all of the most compelling parts of the book, which is the realization that Harry is not only connected to Sirius personally, but that his dad, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew created the Marauders Map, that they were animagi, that Harry's patronus takes the form of his father's stag, and that Snape was initimately connected to all of them as well. For me, reading the end of PoA was what cemented Snape as someone who would be crucial to the narrative and whose role would increase as the series went on. As a result of Kloves skimming over these essential plot twists, Snape is a minor character in the film, showing up mostly as a foil who tries to expose Lupin and then catches him and Black in the Shrieking Shack (this also sets his character up to be minimized in every film down the line, which has a worsening impact as Snape becomes increasingly integral to the plot).

One thing I find interesting is that Snape's comical physicality changes over the films. In PS and CoS he's menacing, a looming, larger than life figure the children fear and easily assume to be a full-fledged villain. By GoF there's a relationship embedded in how he interacts with Harry and his friends. He's no longer terrifying, just intimidating, more of an adult Harry challenges than someone he must defeat. The comedic effect now comes from a rapport within an established dynamic between characters. By HBP, the only comical moment is at Slughorn's party, and it's no longer Rickman who uses physicality - the action happens around him, and the comedic effect is in his lack of reaction to any of it. In other words, he's no longer the comic one, he's become the straight man in a (badly written) comedy sketch (with abysmal timing, what even).

Ultimately, as with most of the characters in the HP films, Snape is undermined by the writing. Rickman was stuck working within the confines he was given. No matter how well he may have understood the character, the limited screen time and character development were always going to stifle how Snape was portrayed on screen. I'm very much pro Let Snape Be Feral but I also don't fault Rickman in how little we saw of that.

How Feral is Snape?

If I'm honest, I feel like the Snapedom has taken the Let Snape Be Feral thing and has started forgetting that he wasn't all-feral-all-the-time. The point of Feral Snape is that it's a heightened state of tension in a character whose trauma is being triggered. Apoplectic Snape wouldn't have an impact at the end of PoA if that was his usual way of being. And, as you so brilliantly showed @said-snape-softly Snape's speech patterns are primarily quiet and controlled, his speech gets softer the more dangerous his mood, and it's only after he reassumes his role as a spy that the description of his speech becomes increasingly volatile (but is still controlled). Feral Snape's definitive aspect is the lack of control shown by a character who usually is so exceptionally capable of self restraint and compartmentalization. So again, while I would have loved to see Feral Snape on screen, I think it's also important to acknowledge that this is not the defining feature of his character and is more about what those moments mean to his arc. Their absence is primarily due to poor writing that didn't create space for them (including what leads up to them), and the direction that didn't carve out any kind of niche for them, not Rickman's choices as an actor.

In fact, Snape as a character is defined by descriptors of his voice more than any other character by far. I have my own theory about why this is, and it has to do with Alan Rickman being inextricably connected with how Snape is written. Chris Columbus said that Alan Rickman was always Snape as far as he was concerned, because when JK Rowling showed him a sketch of Snape she had made, it looked exactly like Rickman. I don't think this is accidental.

Alan Rickman was always intended to be Snape

First, what's important to remember is that before Harry Potter, Alan Rickman was best known in the 90s for playing both villains and sad romantic leads. His signature defining feature was his voice. I think it was Ang Lee who described the casting choice of Greg Wise and Alan Rickman in Sense and Sensibility as wanting Willoughby (Wise) to be dashing and Brandon (Rickman) to be sexy (if this was Emma Thompson and not Ang Lee, my apologies, I can't remember where I read this and can't find the source). This is how Rickman was perceived by audiences up until Harry Potter. And I know a lot of the Snapedom considers him to be sexy as Snape too, but the general audiences of the films don't, so please don't @ me, I'm just setting up a point here.

This is relevant because, as we find out in the end of the books, Rowling wrote Snape's motivations to be rooted in romantic love (I'm very nobly putting aside, for the sake of focusing on Rowling's intentions, my personal interpretation that Snape's feelings for Lily were platonic, please acknowledge how brave I am for this). She pulls a lot from gothic tropes into how he's written, and as much as she's talked about the character having been inspired by a chemistry teacher she disliked, and as much as she's talked about Snape being both morally grey and someone she personally dislikes, she also romanticized him. Between this and what Chris Columbus said about her sketch of him, it's hard for me to ignore that this character, conceived of in the 90s, wasn't written with Alan Rickman in mind from the beginning, especially since Rowling herself has said that she envisioned him in the role. Whether or not he lived up to Rowling's imagination is, frankly, his choice and Rowling's problem.

The story of how Harry Potter was written according to JK Rowling is that it started with the idea coming to her on a train ride in 1990. She completed the PS manuscript in 1995. While everything I'm about to say is absolute conjecture, I can't help but wonder at the connection between these films and the way Snape was written (spoilers ahead, no regrets, these films have been out for over a quarter of a century - forgive my reviews, I can't help myself):

1988: Die Hard comes out. Alan Rickman plays Hans Gruber, a villain who is a genius, composed, controlled, and soft-spoken. (Great film, a classic, the only valid Christmas movie.)

1990: Truly, Madly, Deeply. Rickman plays a man whose wife can't get over his tragic death, nor can his own ghost, who comes back to spend more time with her. No one else can see him, and they can't really share a life anymore. She eventually lets him go as she realizes that his spirit doesn't belong in the mortal world and her own life can't move on as long as she clings to it. (Beautiful film, will break your heart and put it through a shredder.)

1991: Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves. Rickman is the Sheriff of Nottingham, an unhinged, feral villain who wears all black complete with billowing cape. (Terrible film, disaster of a period piece, Rickman's performance is the only redeeming thing about it. Halfway through its press tour talk shows started booking Rickman instead of the lead, Kevin Costner, because Rickman stole every scene.)

1995: An Awfully Big Adventure. Rickman is an actor who comes back to his hometown to revive his role as Captain Hook in a local theatre production of Peter Pan. In the process he has an affair with a young ginger stagehand who reminds him of his lost love, a vivacious woman named Stella with bright red hair who, as far as he knows, birthed his child - a son - before she died. It turns out the girl he has an affair with is his daughter, which he realizes when he visits her home where she lives in the care of her aunt and uncle - whose name is Vernon - and connects the dots of who this girl's mother was. (He then rides his motorcycle out to the pier, screams "Stella" at the heavens like he's in a revival production of Streetcar Named Desire, trips and hits his head on the edge of the pier and falls into the water, drowning. I can't make this up. Mike Newell directed this. The same guy who directed GoF. As if following in the vein of the 90s movie obsession with incest as the controversial-trope-du-jour wasn't enough. I don't even need to review this, just sum it up.)

1995: Sense and Sensibility. Rickman plays Colonel Brandon, a forlorn, grieving man who lost his first love at a young age and spends most of the film pining for the only other woman he's ever had a romantic interest in. Wears all black, rides a black horse.

Given what a well-known actor Rickman was in the 90s - especially in England - and how connected his characters all seem to be to various aspects of Snape, it's hard not to see a connection. The entire premise of Truly, Madly, Deeply sounds like the inspiration for the Resurrection Stone in Deathly Hallows. The redheaded lost love whose child is left in the care of an Uncle Vernon in An Awfully Big Adventure is difficult to look past. All of these characters either exude menacingly soft-spoken Snape energy, feral Snape energy, or forlorn because of his lost love Snape energy. As a result, I feel like it's almost inevitable that Rickman inspired Snape, especially when you consider how known he was for his voice and how frequently Snape's voice is used to describe him. When Rowling said that she envisioned him in the role, it makes me wonder if she meant during the casting process for the first film, or well before it. I think his previous roles were a contributing factor in how the character was written in the books. After Tim Roth - who was originally cast in the role - had to back out due to scheduling conflicts, she got her way. Authors don't often get to choose who plays their characters, but in this case it worked out as the production thought Rickman was a good fit as well.

I'm done, I promise

So where does this leave things at the end of this horrendously long post? Rickman's choices of how he physicalized Snape - comedic or not - are only part of a larger whole. He was playing a character who was written based on his other roles, and limited by the shortcomings of how Steve Kloves translated that character from Rowling's books into his own screenplays. Whatever Rickman did on set was limited by that writing, by the directors he worked with, and by the choices made in the editing room.

I'm fascinated by the idea that Rickman was playing a character written with him in mind - but not really him, the him who embodied other characters whose echoes show up in Snape. It's difficult enough to contend with an actor playing a character in a screenplay you wrote with them in mind when you're directing your own script, because they'll never be what you imagined in your head. But for that process to get filtered through several directors, a team of producers, another writer who changes your work, and an editor, let alone throughout a decade of films - that's downright wild. The original intention gets lost and reinterpreted like a game of telephone, and I think that a lot of the consistencies between Movie!Snape and Book!Snape are down to Alan Rickman's nuanced and generous nature as an actor. If I'm honest, I'm not convinced that every Snape moment that comes off comical was meant to be so by Rickman. But again, film is such a collaborative medium that his intentions aren't the only ones that matter, ultimately, at least they aren't the only thing that ends up in the final cut.

My take, personally, is that I'm more interested in critical analysis than personal criticism. I respect that everyone has their own vision of a character and fandom is absolutely here for, among other things, having a place to share those thoughts and feelings. But a character is rarely going to appear on screen the same way you see them in your head, and that's not always going to be a fault, even if it's a disappointment to you. It's interesting to hear different people's perceptions, but there isn't that much to discuss there - you can't refute how someone feels, and you can't argue that their truth is what it is, to them. Whereas with critical analysis there's a lot more to talk about and examine, so it's where my own interest is much more invested.

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

OMG! Be still my heart! Those fireworks are similar to those Susu made for him 500 years ago but they are not identical; Tantai Jin has drawn them for her using the sketch she taught him but he’s hiding it from her (when he waves his hand his spell doesn’t emit the red colour of the Devil God power but golden glow, just like her sketch)!

Tantai Jin’s most powerful and magical ability isn’t absorbing energy from demons but finding happiness in the smallest things others might consider trivial and turning them into bright rays of light which keep the darkness inside him at bay. The mere thought that Susu once believed him capable of being good and that he didn’t fail her, fulfiled her wish and is, in fact, good, even though she remains oblivious about it, is enough to make him bliss out and giddy, experiencing unadulterated happiness and joy. His proud smile and the question “does it look pretty?”, like he is waiting for her to review his spell, the only way he allows himself to show the truth.

He managed to draw the sketch already 500 years ago but actually kept it a secret from her ever since, probably the only part of himself he has never revealed to her and has been withholding from her, but is secretly showing to her now by creating the spell again even though she doesn’t know it. For Tantai Jin, this is another scrap of happiness he tucks and guards inside the deepest recesses of the heart he gave Susu centuries ago.

While he tries to make her hate him so she could kill him when the time comes, he doesn’t want her to resent him in his “Bo’re life”, this refuge inside his heart where he escapes when his demons and loneliness plague him. 

This is a dream, a fleeting moment of elusive happiness he decides to steal for himself before he sacrifices his life for all living beings in the universe, to give him strength to do what he must and have something to remember when he turns into nothingness. He wants to do something selfish one last time and take something for himself, instead of constantly giving while receiving nothing in return - one final moment in which Susu loves him and belongs only to him, and he only to her. 

And secretly, Tantai Jin wants to leave Susu a piece of himself behind, a proof that he and his love for her were real and existed, no matter how insignificant compared to the cosmic struggle between good and evil, hoping she would remember him once she learns the truth even when no one else would, especially when it was his love for her which ultimately defeated the darkness inside him and transformed him into the man he is today.

He doesn’t fear death but being forgotten by Su because what is oblivion and being forgotten other than second and ultimate death, being abandoned and unloved one final time. 

Tantai Jin’s final wish is for his love to survive him, defeat and overcome death; he desperately craves to live inside her forever, this way he can become immortal too and be with her forever.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

So while I’m on my “You’re Losing Me” riff, another thing that really strikes me about the song is how pervasive loneliness is in it.

This isn’t inherently unique in Taylor’s music; she is after all the narrator in most of her songs. They are inherently self-centered and not in a selfish way, but in a literal way: these are songs about her and her perspective. It makes sense then that YLM is uniquely about her experience in this relationship and this breakdown.

But when I talk about the theme of loneliness, it’s how alone she as narrator is throughout the story. Even in the opening salvo, where he says, “I don’t understand,” and she says, “I know you don’t,” the conversation represents two people fundamentally pushed to their own corners.

There is a clear split between we and I throughout the story.

We thought a cure would come through, now I fear it won’t. We loved this room cause of the light, but now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time. Should I throw out everything we built?

There’s a divide between when they were on the same team, and when she’s been cast adrift. They were working on fixing their problems, but now she alone is burdened with the knowledge that they’ve passed the point of no return. They chose a home to house their future dreams together, but now she’s left all alone in the dark feeling those dreams slip away. They built a life, but now she’s the one having the make the call to take it down.

But it gets progressively darker than that. The line about being a phoenix mending all her own gashes has always jumped out at me, because it connotes her dealing with blow after blow by herself, having to put herself back together each time, the onslaught relentless even if she ultimately overcomes. Yet it’s him who tears her apart for good. The image it paints is of a person continually facing her own struggles on her own, dealing with the fallout like a lone wolf (sorry for the continued animal allusions?), but whatever it is that the subject he does breaks her worse than the thousand cuts she’s experienced before. Even here, the idea is of a person who shoulders her burdens by herself and being praised for it (something something when I used to fight you’d tell me I was brave etc. Even though I know that’s an entirely different situation but it’s also not) or at least being expected to do it, but the subject’s actions — or lack thereof— cut deeper than any of those lonesome fights. She keeps fighting for herself, trying to grow from the hurt, but his “blow” threatens to undo it all in one fell swoop.

Of course, as the song continues, the story expands and becomes one about miscommunication and apathy. I’m not one to believe that every single line in Taylor’s songs is literal; she’s a master at metaphors and scene setup, so as much as some commentary interprets the line about glaring and sending signals as literal and therefore putting the onus on her for not communicating effectively and expecting the person to be a mind reader, I feel like this is where her affinity for being flowery paints a far sadder picture.

She glared at him with storms in her eyes could mean she’s acting pissed but not saying why, but it could just as easily be a metaphor for sharing anger/upset with your partner who refuses to acknowledge its weight. (How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dyin’ when it’s right in front of you?) I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick could be seen as again not saying what’s wrong and expecting him to pick up on her behaviour, but I also feel it’s an instance where her penchant for emotive language is at play: it’s not that she expected him to read her mind, it’s that she tried every way she could and he still didn’t care. The signals could be that like a lighthouse in a storm: clear and guiding, but dangerous if ignored. She told him in all the ways she could, literal, emotional and physical, that she was wasting away, but he wouldn’t take it seriously. It once again details the experience of a person living through this tragedy completely on her own, whose pain is dismissed at every turn.

Which brings us to, “My face was gray but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick.” It could mean, she was making herself ill and he ignored the reasons why, but as I mentioned in my post earlier, death hangs over the entire song. (There’s a larger essay to be written about that theme alone.) To me, it’s not just that she’s grey because she’s ill, her face is grey because she’s (metaphorically) dead. She’s already died (or the relationship is dead) before he’s even admitted there was anything wrong to fix. She alone is sitting with this realization.

As the song continues, the loneliness with the burden of this knowledge shifts to the loneliness of everything she feels she’s done or felt that’s been ignored or dismissed.

My pain is an imposition. (On you.) I gave you all my best me’s. (And I didn’t get yours in return.) I bled and tried to be the bravest soldier only in your army frontlines. (But you didn’t fight in mine when I needed you.) I’m the best thing at this party. (But you’d never acknowledge I exist.)

By the time she gets to the end of the bridge, she’s fading fast but even as she’s losing the battle, she’s still imploring him to fight for her and them in a last-ditch effort. Show me you’re still with me. But she never gets that answer, because ultimately they’ve lost the pulse, and her heart has stopped. While the song begins with them fundamentally misunderstanding each other, it ends with her confirming her fears in the opening: there is no more we, but there is no more her either. She’s gone, all alone, without anyone there to see it.

In spite of the fact that the song is super catchy and uptempo, with a characteristic banger bridge that is fueled by anger and seeping with resentment, “You’re Losing Me,” is incredibly sad and kind of morose. It leaves such an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, which I imagine is only a fraction of the feeling of the person experiencing the story is.

[climbthemountain2020]

Love You Like Oxygen - Chapter 8

Part 8/8 | Ao3

Thanks for hanging with me while I wrote this, friends!

Even in my worst lies You saw the truth in me And I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My one and only, my lifeline

When they’d reappeared in Day, it didn’t even take a moment for Helion to press his lips to hers. She reciprocated with vigor, wrapping arms around him and pulling him close, remembering all those times in these very halls where he would lift her like she weighed nothing, pressing her against the nearest surface when they couldn’t wait a single moment longer. But she wanted this to be her future–she’d waited so long–and she wouldn’t let anything come between them again.

No more hiding, no more secrets.

She pulled back.

“Wait. Helion, wait. I have to tell you something.”

Through hot, open-mouthed kisses he said “It’s okay, Alanna. It’s alright.” She laced her fingers through his hair and gently pulled him back from her.

“It isn’t–I won’t keep any more secrets from you.” He simply smiled at her, pressing back to the column of her throat, laying kisses gently up and down it as she fought a sigh.

“I know. I already know.” His words were muffled, but she heard him. She had to get this out, even if he hated her forever. Even if she was forfeiting their only chance together.

“You can’t possibly. Lucien is–”

“He’s mine, I know.” They split apart. “Eris told me when I wouldn’t come to Autumn to help him rescue Tilly.”

“Tilly? What happened to Tilly?”

“She’s fine–it’s a story for another time. Everyone is fine. Eris, your sons, Tilly–they’re all safe.”

“Eris told you?”

“Yes, and I must say, I’m a bit embarrassed to have not figured it out on my own. I was relieved. I always liked him best.” She didn’t match his laugh, her eyes downcast and a heavy weight on her heart. Centuries. She’d kept Lucien from him for centuries.

“Helion, can you ever forgive me? I’m so, so sorry. I had to do it to keep him safe, to keep you safe.”

“What about you? You weren’t safe. I could have–I could have–”

“You couldn’t have…you couldn’t have done anything. We all would have died.”

“But we would have been together…I…if I had known..”

“I know. I know you’re furious with me. I’ve hated myself for it for years, but I had to, Helion. There was no other way. Please know how deeply, deeply sorry I am. I understand if you never forgive me, if you don’t want to see me–.”

“Forgive you? There is nothing to forgive, Alanna. You had an impossible choice, and you chose to suffer for the sake of everyone else. I thought–I thought you didn’t think we were worth fighting for. That I wasn’t worth fighting for.” He wiped the tears from her face, letting his own flow freely as she returned the favor, brushing her knuckles lightly along his beautiful, dark skin.

“You, our son, my family–they’re the only things worth fighting for.” She cupped his jaw in her hands, feeling it twitch beneath her touch.

“There was never a day I didn’t love you, Little Spark. And there never will be. Never.”

“I love you, my light. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And before another word could be spoken, their lips were on each other, swallowing down the years of hurt, of distance, of pain, of that ineffable ache of nothing between them when it was meant to be everything.

His hands found the backs of her thighs, lifting her effortlessly and pressing her back into the wall, and Alanna was so entranced by the feeling of this being how it should always have been, she simply wrapped herself more tightly around him, her lips never leaving his. There were no more words spoken between them, only the language of their bodies as he pushed her skirts up, struggling with the layers and ultimately ripping them off of her entirely as she gasped for air against him.

Every touch was fire, every caress was light, and when their bodies finally joined the way that they were always intended to, things were right for the first time in half a millennium. They were everywhere, tearing curtains, throwing blankets, scratching at the walls, until finally, hours later, they exhausted themselves and comfortably stilled on the floor, wrapped within each other.

“Now that you are free, what will you do?”

Alanna lifted her head from his chest, russet eyes meeting amber without the weight of the world for the first time.

“What I should have done in the first place. I will stay.”

+++

Months had passed since Alanna had been brought to Day, though it felt both like yesterday and an eternity ago. The warm sun was settling low into the horizon, throwing clouds into pastel shades of pink, purple, orange, and blue. The sunsets here were like nothing Alanna had ever seen, glowing with an effervescence and color she didn’t know was possible.

Helion and Alanna ran down the cobblestone paths in the sky connecting the palace of Day to the stables, sandals slapping the floor and their giggles echoing as they ran hand in hand like younglings. They were supposed to be attending a meeting, but Helion has suggested, eyebrows raised, that they flee to watch the sunset at the final second. After years of denying him anything, she didn’t have it in her to say no to him anymore.

They ran into the stables, emerging seconds later by bursting into the sky on the back of Meallan. Alanna loved the feeling of Helion’s hands on her waist, leaning back into his chest as they flew off into the twilight sky. Alanna loved flying. Before she’d come to Day, she’d only done it once before when Helion had saved her from Hybern’s hounds. She barely remembered that horrid flight, but Helion had made it his personal goal to replace all her sore memories with new ones. Almost every evening, as the sun disappeared below the sea, she and Helion would fly, chasing the horizon as the twinkling stars emerged.

She giggled breathlessly, passing the reins to Helion as she held her arms out and closed her eyes.

Freedom. This was what freedom felt like.

The wind in her hair, and no more shackles on her wrists.

Her family was safe and happy, able to pursue the lives they loved, and she, though she hardly felt the age, was now blessed as a grandmother twice over. She never thought she’d experience anything like this, where all the love in her life was full to overflowing. There wasn’t a single day she took it for granted, knowing what it was like to be on the other side.

Only a week after she’d come to Day, after making sure everyone in Autumn was okay, Helion had dropped on one knee in front of her. Despite having done the same action many times in the preceding few days, this time he’d done it with a ring of shining gold, a sun engraved with a beautiful inlaid diamond catching all rays of light.

“Be my mate, my wife, my High Lady. No one has ever fought harder than you have, or for longer. Make me the happiest male alive, and take your rightful place by my side.”

Alanna hadn’t even had to think about it before flinging herself into his arms, nodding furiously and kissing him until they were both breathless.

His, she was finally, truthfully, rightfully his, and he was hers.

Every night, she would fall into bed with him, feeling soft hands that would only ever be gentle with her unless she asked otherwise. She would never worry again, would never have to watch her back against someone who was supposed to love her.

They’d been mated almost immediately upon her return to Day, not wanting to waste a moment of time, but their ceremony was a month later, just the two of them, a priestess, and Elain and Lucien. It was small, it was intimate, it was everything she’d ever wanted her whole entire life. She’d endured centuries of pain, and this was the only thing that could have possibly set it right.

That night, they’d laid in their vast bed, hands roaming softly and kisses lightly pressed against each other.

“Are you happy, Alanna?”

“Happier than I’ve been since the equinox ball.” He’d huffed a laugh in response, choosing instead to show her with his mouth how happy he was.

Now, months later, with the war behind them, two grandchildren, and an immortal lifetime ahead, Alanna let herself relax back into the arms of the male she’d loved for as long as time itself. His fingers wound through hers, mating bands clinking against each other, as the gentle night evening breeze blew over them and flew them towards the horizon of their eternity.

Taglist:

@dreaming-for-an-escape@cauldronblssd @clockwork-ashes@tele86@julesofvolterra

[beliscary]

@necromycologist #👀 prev im begging you to elaborate on your vision for them

oh my god. im so sorry. I have can't shut up disease. so many series spoilers here we go

for context, these were my tags on user cemeterything 's post featuring this gem:

#nick & sam mutually in the trilogy postcanon I made up in my head #shut up you're not transmuting into a sword and/or stone and I'm not becoming primordial destructive light let's think this through #very much IF I CAN'T NEITHER CAN YOU

ok I gotta bring up Nehima

The ancient Clayr made sure that the sword Nehima and the Dark Mirror found their way to Lirael. Lirael in turn will find Sameth, who passes the bells and the Book on to her. Eventually, she passes the panpipes and then Nehima on to him so that he can forge what they will need to defeat Orannis. This sword bears the inscription: 'Remember the Wallmakers. Remember me.'

Now, here's this passage from the very beginning of Abhorsen, which has been the rock in the shoe of my brain since I read it:

"He was a Wallmaker as well as a royal prince, but what did that mean? The Wallmakers had disappeared millennia ago, putting themselves into the creation of the Wall and the great Charter Stones—quite literally, as far as Sam knew. For a moment he wondered if that would be his destiny too. Would he have to make something that would end his life? At least as a living, breathing man? For the Wallmakers weren't exactly dead, Sam thought, remembering the great Charter Stones and the Wall. They were more transformed, or transfigured, not that he fancied that either. In any case he was far more likely to simply get killed..."

Nehima made something that ended her life, at least as a living, breathing woman. 🤷‍♀️

With Sam's canonical fear of capital D 'Death' Still Very Much Existing, I feel like the best course re: future character development would have been to dig into the tension between immortality as a construct/weapon vs. accepting death and deciding to be fully human. Is that very narrow eternal life as a part of the Wall, or a weapon to be wielded, or a Charter Stone… tempting? terrifying? Does he feel becoming some kind of weapon or tool is inevitable? Has he ever wondered what the inscription on whatever remains of him should be? Has he written it somewhere and burned it like all those letters to his parents he was too afraid to send?

Time and again in the books, Sam thinks to himself how glad he is that he's not the Abhorsen and how happy he is to be able to make things, to be Of Use to the Abhorsen/the Kingdom. He feels awful about what he considers his moments of cowardice and his abandonment of his responsibilities. I think he's in the perfect pressure cooker to be an enormous idiot about what duty calls him to do, while also struggling internally with his own fears. 'I can make this ultimate sacrifice... and also not die.... am I being a coward.... no one has to know.... is this a fate worse than death?... maybe I deserve that. maybe what I deserve has nothing to do with it, and this is simply what I must do, just as the Abhorsens must walk in Death...'

I think Nick needs to kick him in the shins about it (ughgbhfhfhh there's that part in one of the later letters Nick writes in the books that's like 'come here and tell me I'm being a stupid asshole so I stop being a stupid asshole'... fave. this vibe, both ways.) Sam never got to see Nick possessed by Orannis so I feel like Nick should get to deal with Sam, sometimes unsettling conduit for The Charter's intent. ('I Didn't Get Possessed In His Place And Temporarily Die For This!')

and Nick!!! arghhh WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE THE SURVIVING VESSEL OF ORANNIS?! his skeptic's worldview is shattered! he's traumatized! he's IRRADIATED! he has sooo much to feel guilty about and thinks he has to make up for, especially with regards to what he thinks he owes the Kingdom and the survivors of Forwin Mill.... but his very existence disrupts the Charter. Not too long ago, he was walking talking anathema to life itself. also he has these weird temptations to shuck off his mortal body and become a being of pure Free Magic??? Is it worse that he's still alive, because he's so dangerous? He came back from Death, why him when so many others died? Shouldn't he have just taken what was left of the hemispheres' powers to the grave with him? I'm sure he gets in his head about 'I need to do something with this life I got to return to because otherwise...'

obligation v. guilt v. desire. basically so much trauma and also Need To Make It Right. Sam would kick him in the shins about it except then he'd have to recognize the self in the other and 😬 he's probably still emotionally recovering from Nick saying those exact words to him and coughing his dying blood on his face. I digress

I think too that even though nick's irradiated and the Charter goes all wonky around him, the fact that the baptism took and the mark stays Means Something, and I choose to believe that in this strange way Nick is the new walking talking Destroyer, and that remnant of the Destroyer which exists as Nick wants to be a part of the Charter this time around, and with Sam having so many of the bloodlines it's just.... the most bizarre mutual understanding of what being alive means, as kids who used to vault desks at boarding school and also as... living manifestations of the cycle of creation and destruction. and they both have to constantly grab each other by the scruff of the neck to remind each other they're allowed to live too, not just throw themselves "into the making" like the Bright Shiners

(at my Most Bittersweet I think about how maybe it's Sam who passes away first, and until the very moment he goes, Nick can't quite believe he actually decided to die a man and not forge himself into some other thing. they had of course talked about it before but there was always a part of Nick that wondered...

and when he does cross into the River, Nick is the one to perform the final rites and burn his body so it can't be used because oh boy he Gets It)

[starlightwayfinder]

🍜 and/or ⛓️ for the Wayfinder Trio

(For the friendship ask game)

🍜Food — how do their tastes in food differ? do they have a favorite meal to eat together? do they ever cook for each other, whether it be a nice meal as a gift, or a nasty one as a prank?

I fully agree with the novelization that Terra isn’t particularly into sweets, but Aqua and Ven love them. Terra’s pretty health-conscious anyway, so it’s fine that he doesn’t. Since Ven is from Daybreak, he has slightly different tastes. If/when he remembers, he’d make them some foods from his past...which they would eat to be polite 😆 (the Ephemera special…)

Aqua is the best cook/baker, but Terra and Ven still take turns making food and snacks for everyone after training. They’ll sit outside and have tea together if the weather is nice—though with Ven’s track record he might need coffee to stay awake.

Also: It’s kind of funny the first time they try going to Scrooge’s Bistro. None of them really know what they’re doing since they’re only used to making their own meals… 

⛓️ Chains — how do they respond to learning about each other's trauma, or what holds them back?

(long answer incoming)

First and foremost, everything they deal with—ESPECIALLY for Terra and Aqua—is worsened by the fact that they believe it’s spurred on by the darkness. They’re scared of falling a second time, and the way they view it, a lot of their negative thoughts come from an outside source. (You could argue they’re right in some cases, but there are also plenty of times when people are just… sad. And it’s perfectly normal.) That guilt feeds into whatever they’re dealing with and makes it way harder to reach out for help for fear of being judged. 

Terra feels that his role is to take care of Ven and Aqua, so he can be especially tight-lipped about what’s troubling him. He remembers things from his possession in dreams, and not always having the context for those memories makes them worse. He didn’t fully realize the extent of Xehanort/Xemnas/Ansem’s actions at first, so there’s an added layer of guilt whenever he learns more about that. 

His connection to the light gives him an occasional vision of the future, like in BbS. Terra doesn’t know what to do with those visions though, so they can unfortunately be more upsetting than helpful. Ven and Aqua don’t know about this.

He can be self-isolating at times, and Ven and Aqua have to pry if they want him to open up. Of course, having them around helps immensely, and they always surprise him with how understanding and supportive they are. Terra appreciates physical affection the most, so Ven and Aqua are more than willing to hug and cuddle with him when he’s feeling down. Words of affirmation and praise are a huge deal to him too, (which is part of why he was so willing to listen to Master Xehanort in BbS to begin with.)

Terra and Aqua know something’s up with Ven since he doesn’t get consistent sleep. It’s something he struggled with when he first came to live with them, so it’s not unfamiliar—just sad that it started happening again. 

Terra knows a little more about Ven’s history thanks to what Xehanort told him, plus they were both manipulated by him. Whether he realizes it or not, Terra is a big role model to Ven, so if he can forgive himself for what happened, Ven will have an easier time forgiving himself too. 

Ven is a little hesitant to share anything with Aqua out of fear that it will change how she sees him, but it just builds more trust between them when he does. 

On that note: Ven’s an interesting character to me because while he struggles with a lot of deep fears and complicated emotions, he can turn around and help someone else through the exact same feelings in a heartfelt and mature way. He’s sensitive and empathetic—not in the literal sense, but because he remembers his own experiences and what he needed to hear to heal from them. (He embodies a big theme of the series in that way: that “hurt” ultimately serves to bring people together.)

As for the form of affection that means the most to him, I’m going to go ahead and project with “gifts”. He has his wayfinder from Aqua and wooden Keyblades from Terra, his telescope from Eraqus, photos on his Gummiphone, letters and drawings and postcards in his room... Terra could give him a pebble from the garden and it would go on his windowsill forever. However, it's not the gifts themselves that are precious to him. Like he tells Stitch and Peter, friendship is more than an object—and the real treasure is the love that the items represent. They just serve as a tangible, visual reminder of that when he’s alone. 

(The flip side of this is true too. The others understand if Ven excitedly gives them like… a dandelion or something, in his eyes it’s a special thing and symbolizes a lot.) 

Aqua has a ton of trauma from the Realm of Darkness, and unlike the others, she remembers it all. It’s worsened by their trips there to search for Sora, and eventually Terra and Ven have to force her to take a break from going. She can’t really grasp why even when she’s safe and back home those feelings and memories are still plaguing her, but trying to ignore them doesn’t help. Ven’s the first to catch on to just how bad things are getting for her, and he pulls her outside to sit and talk things over. (In 0.2, she mentions that Ven helps keep her darkness away—I think that’s literally true, considering that he has so much light in his heart.) Terra does his best to help Aqua too, and he can definitely relate to her struggle with the darkness. 

Quality time is what Aqua likes most. It doesn’t matter if they’re cooking or doing chores or training, she just likes their company to make it brighter. It’s also nice for her considering how much time she spent alone.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

every reason imaginable* why charlie and wigfrid should kiss i think

i was gonna do this in 2023 but idc anymore i've been holding onto this for well over three years and its time to make it everyone else's problem

The dichotomy between good and evil:

One of the main reasons why Charcoal/Charlow resonates so well with people is because of the contrast between the two characters. One of the main motifs of Don't Starve is light vs dark, after all. But Charlie and Wigfrid are really good foils for each other as well! Especially when you take Wig's... you know, protagonist syndrome thing into the equation.

Wigfrid is a just and noble self-proclaimed warrior, who balances her somewhat prideful demeanor with loyalty to her allies and an honor she carries about her at all times. Charlie is a bitter and power hungry ruler who disguises her more unsightly traits with an air of regality and elegance. Though part of it is seemingly out of her power, she strikes invisibly and ignobly, and has been shown not to be above things such as manipulation and deceit to get her way.

But they slip up a bit every now and again. Charlie will occasionally get uncharacteristically soft- little bits of her former self slipping through. Wigfrid, on the other hand, will sometimes need to reel herself back in, struggling to keep in tune with the moral allignment of her persona. There's little bits of greys between the black and white that they so desperately try to repress, but that sometimes comes peaking out every now and again. Could they make each other better? Could they make each other worse? I don't know, but they sure could make themselves something, that's for sure.

Prisoners of the persona:

It's one of the more obvious things people tend to notice about both their characters. Who Charlie shows to the public isn't really Charlie. Not completely, anyways. And likewise, who Wigfrid is isn't truly Wigfrid, either- though with her it's far more difficult to pick apart what part is the persona and what's genuine.

The thing is, while both of them are probably aware that their personas are not themselves, both of them struggle with the same issue in regards to it: That persona happens to be the only thing they have left of them after the hardships they needed to face.

For Charlie, it's obvious. Whatever happened to her after the Final Act damaged her irreparably- both mentally and probably physically as well. There's no room for something like Old Charlie to resurface in the position she's in now, overseen by eldritch beings, wrapped around their finger, debatably physically a part of Them. To embrace Old Charlie is a risk that could result in unspeakable consequences- should she ever find the strength to embrace Old Charlie at all.

Wigfrid, on the other hand, at first took up the persona under much easier (yet, to her, still very impactful) stakes. That being the fact that her career and ultimate passions were on the line. Almost certainly suffering from something (an anxiety or some form of self doubt that manifested itself into a hatred of the self), she eradicated the actress entirely, further embracing Wigfrid more and more in a desperate attempt to cling to what remained of her livelihood. Though, it can also be implied that a lot of 'Wigfrid' was developed during her time in the Constant, which in itself would also come with it's own implications... Surviving only because of the adeptness and skill of your persona. Having it to thank for the person you've grown to become.

And yet, again, sometimes you see cracks in their masks... Sometimes Charlie drops her catty and uncaring act- if only for a second... Sometimes she makes gingerbread, or eggnog, gives presents to survivors on the holidays, or quietly observes the cheerful ongoings of the Midsummer Cawnival... And meanwhile Wigfrid has been bringing up her prior stagelife with an almost unnerving frequency, whispering her recollections of old stagehands (real ones not Charlie's evil ones) to the kitcoons, basking in the glow of Winona's spotlight, showing off her perfect pitch with the shell bells, and even writing her own scripts to take with her into combat.

Whether they know it or not- whether or not they even want to admit it- there's an obvious desperation to exist beyond the mask, even for mere moments at a time... There's a clear struggle between fulfilling those desires, and tamping them down and completely ignoring them, and they're both teetering on the edge of both at any given moment. If anyone is going to understand how it feels to keep that hidden little part of you in check (excluding Maxwell), it would be the two of them.

Stage motif:

Absurdly obvious point to make but that is exactly why I'm bringing it up. Wigfrid used to be an actress, and even in the Constant still puts up her (incredibly convincing) performance. Charlie's role on stage, while more ambiguous, can also be confirmed to have been on the stage beyond her appearance as an assistant with Maxwell (maybe as an actress herself. Probably not a playwright, though that can also be tossed around as a potential).

But the reason why this holds so much weight is because of the value they themselves attach to the stage. Charlie's turned it into her entire motif! Even before A Little Drama, the Florid Postern and Stagehands have always been a telltale sign that she's never truly forgotten those elements of her past- and even seemingly holds a distant sentimentality to it (which only seems to have been growing lately, after aLD and Encore).

While Wigfrid tries her best to keep it under wraps, there's an undeniable fondness that she still holds for the stage. And in anything that even vaguely resembles such, she'll make note to call it out. From the horses own mouth there's a longing. Klei themselves call it an "irresistible urge to perform", and yeah, the fact that she'd love anything enough to introduce it as a new element of her persona is evidence enough of how much worth it holds to her.

It's more than just a little hobby or characteristic they share. It's Charlie's lifeline to the past, and Wigfrid's siren song. It's pieces of their past selves clinging for dear life, unraveling the character they've built around it. And they're probably the only two characters who really get that. Who understand it's worth. And I don't even have to specify excluding Maxwell in this example, because while he is an actor his attachment to the stage pales in comparison to his attachment to the Codex and dark magic itself. That's what he bonded himself to; the power and prestige and new sense of self that it gave him. But the girls found a liberation in acting itself that still haunts them like a ghost to this day

+ Reflections of the past:

Another very important thing to take into account is the fact that Wigfrid and Charlie probably had some connections with each other in the past... And if not connections as in flat-out interactions, then connections as in shared experiences- something that can be equally as important when you've been torn away from any scrap of society.

We know plenty of strange similarities that Wigfrid and Charlie share. They were both abducted in 1906, meaning that they shared the same time period. They both had careers in the acting field (seemingly to varying success), and even more specifically than that, they both had an affinity towards Shakespeare, something that Winona can confirm for us when she examines some of Wigfrid's scrips. They also both happen to be women in their field, which in itself was rather rare for the time (although steadily becoming more common, as progression slowly does what it does).

That's all well and fine enough, but then you get into more specific things... Like the fact that the Florid Postern- an invention from Charlie's own hands, suspiciously resembles Wigfrid's archway in her own home. To me, that's well a cue as anything that their pre-established relationship- or at the very least their pre-established shared experiences- go further back than what even we're privy to. If it turns out that they knew each other pre-Constant I don't even need to keep going I could finish this essay right here and everything else would already speak for itself.

They're so distinctly different- as different as night and day. An elegant queen and a blood-soaked warrior. And yet, it seems both of their pasts weren't all too unique... maybe even intertwined. It's the fact that they could go as far as to share the same thought process that really gets me. That they could find beauty in the same things. That they could probably recite the same poetry.

Where Wigfrid differs from Maxwell:

Now by this point, you may be thinking "Savvy, this is a great analysis and I agree so so much with your points-" (thank you) "-but you've made several points explaining Wigfrid's similarities to Maxwell in the past. Don't you think that something like that- sharing similar traits to a man she holds so much ire for- might make Charlie more adverse to interacting with her?"

And to that I would say: First of all, I also ship Maxlie so that argument is completely void because I think they should kiss either way. But second of all, Wigfrid has a glaring advantage that Maxwell pre-constant completely missed out on:

Charlie knows that Wigfrid is a persona. Charlie didn't even know that 'Maxwell' wasn't his real name! That's what Wigfrid has over him. Maxwell's whole 'thing'- as much as he didn't intend for it to be- was an act of deceit.

Wigfrid's not deceitful, she's just stuck in the embrace of her own persona. But even if she was deceitful, Charlie can't be deceived- if not because she's God and Knows Everything, then because even before she was taken to the Constant, she's either seen or heard of Wigfrid in the past (an actress at the time getting as popular as Wigfrid got? Seemingly making the headlines on a repeated basis? There's no way you wouldn't be privy to that- especially if that's your field of employment).

To her, I think that would be a practical gold mine of entertainment- especially as someone who was deceived by Maxwell in her past. Batting around another persona- one with origins so similar to yours. It's like one of those ground beef filled pumpkins, except the ground beef is whoever's under Wigfrid's mask, and the pumpkin is. Wigfrid herself.

Another very important part when it comes to shipping Wigfrid with anyone- especially her friends- is the implication of the Mask vs the Self...

To make this quick (because I could write a whole essay about this alone): The Actress has already been scarred for stepping out of the persona of Wigfrid before; with her old audience. And it caused so much strife in her life that she fell into the persona like quicksand, and to this day hasn't dared resurface. I think the biggest hurdle between Wigfrid and a relationship with any of the other survivors is the fact that- for all she knows- they could be in love with the persona, and not her. And why shouldn't they be? Who could blame them, when the persona is all she's ever shown?

It's a matter of trying to balance the pros and cons of showing someone you care about who you really are... and potentially dealing with the consequences of them disliking you- or worse, flat out hating you. Like her old audience did.

All this to say, Charlie can skip right over this hurdle immediately... True, she may not know all the details (or maybe her position on the throne lets her know everything, who knows), but she knows enough to poke holes in Wigfrid's persona like it's paper. As much as that fact may unnerve her, you gotta be honest, it solves that issue pretty much completely.

Other stuff that you should also consider but I don't know how to phrase it in a way that makes any sort of sense:

The beauty of a rose needing its inelegant roots in order to survive. Death's unrequited lover locking gazes with its Harbinger. Being puppeteered by a shadow of your own making. Wearing masks of your own face. Brighter spotlights only casting darker shadows. Does this make sense?? Is this making sense? A white knight and a black queen. Looking at your own reflection and seeing a stranger in its place. The way dusk will always lose to twilight, but twilight will always lose to dawn, but dawn brings way to day, and day brings way to dusk again. Is any of this making any sense? It's about pulling back the mask for someone else because try as you might you're not strong enough to do it on your own. Does that make sense to you?

ALSO. Wigfrid has already seeming displayed an attraction towards Charlie at least physically and its the funniest thing and I think about it once a day at LEAST

ik 'fair' doesn't always have to mean beautiful but. it does in this context. i asked mr klei and he told me. so its true trust me on it.

[scorbleeo]

Book Chat: Hideaway

Devil's Night (Book 2) by Penelope Douglas

Source: Google Images

BANKS

Buried in the shadows of the city, there's a hotel called The Pope. Ailing, empty, and dark, it sits abandoned and surrounded by a forgotten mystery.

But you think it's true, don't you, Kai Mori? The story about the hidden twelfth floor. The mystery of the dark guest who never checked in and never checks out. You think I can help you find that secret hideaway and get to him, don't you?

You and your friends can try to scare me. You can try to push me. Because even though I struggle to hide everything I feel when you look at me--and have ever since I was a girl--I think maybe what you seek is so much closer than you'll ever realize.

I will never betray him.

So sit tight.

On Devil's Night, the hunt will be coming to you.

KAI

You have no idea what I seek, Little One. You don't know what I had to become to survive three years in prison for a crime I would gladly commit again.

No one can know what I've turned into.

I want that hotel, I want to find him, and I want this over.

I want my life back.

But the more I'm around you, the more I realize this new me is exactly who I was meant to be.

So come on, kid. Don't chicken out. My house is on the hill. So many ways in, and good luck finding your way out.

I've seen your hideaway. Time to see mine.

Source: Goodreads (2017)

This Was A Tough One

Kai Mori was the one character I was absolutely intrigued by back in Corrupt, which should have been a sign. Because when I expect something, the end product usually does not hit my expectations, ultimately leading to disappointment. And that was exactly what happened with Hideaway.

I went into this book hoping for a fun time but boy did I take a long time with this book. The beginning was slow, boring and pretty nerve-wrecking in terms of how much Kai annoyed me. I was torn between DNF-ing Hideaway or pushing myself through the book for Banks's sake because well, Banks was the only bright light I had in the first half of this book. Some might wonder what exactly did I dislike about Kai or the book. Kai's mental monologue in the beginning was downright repetitive until it felt naggy. Like I said, he really annoyed me.

Fortunately, the tide changed in the midway point. The second Kai started loosening up was the moment I really stopped hating Hideaway. I am not into the overprotective trope, in fact, most of the time, I hate it. However, Kai's obsession with Banks was actually very endearing to read. The gentleness and adoration he has for her made me like Kai again.

Comparing to Corrupt, it was harder to get into the hang of Hideaway. I was pulled into the previous book very quickly. However, in terms of storyline, Hideaway was much better. While Corrupt felt like a fun but pathetic time, Hideaway was more wholesome though quite slow when it came to the pacing.

All in all, I am glad I did not DNF this book. If I had, I would not have been able to experience the true introductions to Damon and Will, as in the introduction to what their books would be like.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

More on the Devil's Night series here: Corrupt (#1)

[qilingxiong]

i don't think much about the sequel trilogy these days but every now and then i do mourn the beautiful narrative parallels/foils we might have had if rey had been a kenobi

[bluesfortheredj]

Number 7, please? "Here, hold my hand." with Eddie <3 ~orwocolor

"Wanna dance, Munson?" you ask with a hopeful glint in your eye.

"I don't know how," he admits quietly, a little embarrassed that he couldn't take you up on your offer.

You smile at his confession then extend your arm towards him, "here, hold my hand," you nod.

His shaking hand slides across your palm then you lift your hands up so that they're palm to palm, and your fingers weave all too naturally between his as you lean in and guide his free arm around your waist before sliding yours around his shoulders.

"Now just follow my feet," you explain, "we'll only go side to side, don't worry."

He glances down to watch as you first step to the left, then to the right, and he follows your lead until he doesn't have to keep his eyes fixed on the ground anymore. His gaze meets yours, your own eyes unable to leave his face while he was concentrating on the steps, and you look away briefly in embarrassment after having been caught staring at him.

"I've never danced with anyone before," Eddie states once your line of sight returns to him.

"Well I hope I don't put you off of doing it with anyone else again," you chuckle nervously, feeling his eyes study your face.

"Never," he smiles, "I would only ever want to dance with you anyway."

You look up at him with a bemused smile and he diverts his gaze away from yours as a flush creeps up his cheeks quickly.

"I mean... you... er..." he stutters, clearing his throat as he attempts to find the right words to say.

You take a deep breath as you watch him struggle with his sentence then you give him the reassurance he desperately needed, "I'd only ever want to dance with you too, Eddie."

His deep brown eyes come back up to meet yours and a smile tugs at his lips softly; he looked beautiful like this, so warm and friendly with a real innocence about him. The Eddie that the rest of the school thought they knew was nothing like this version that only you were allowed to see. You can feel people staring at you both, amazed to see that the local dungeon master would dance in such a way while dress in a suit of all things, and your eyes dart to the door as a sign for you both to escape. Eddie nods in understanding before taking the lead and pulling you off the dancefloor and through the crowd standing at the edge to the exit where he leads you to the games room he used for Hellfire.

"Welcome to 'the dungeon'," he grins, deepening his voice for the last two words to sound as menacing as possible.

"It doesn't seem very... dunegony..." you observe, taking in the bright lights and open blinds of the disused classroom alongside the remnants of a display showing the process of photosynthesis.

"Wait, one second," he says, shutting the door.

He rushes around the room switching on red lamps he'd brought in himself, then pulls down the blinds and slams his hand on the light switch to turn out the fluorescent beams above, "there!" he proclaims as he gestures to the now transformed room shrouded in darkness with the appropriate mood lighting for an immersive game of dungeons & dragons.

"That's more like what I expected," you nod, circling the main table slowly and observing all the figures set out among the elaborate map.

"Do you want to sit in the throne?" he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"I couldn't possibly," you reply with a shake of your head, "that's a sacred seat for you only."

"Go on, I'll allow it," he encourages, nodding to the chair next to him.

You shake your head with a smile but he rolls his eyes and walks over to take your hands so he can pull you towards the intimidating chair. He sits down then tugs you nearer until he can turn you away, wrap his arms around your waist, and gently pull you down onto his lap. He opens up his arms and gestures to the view of the table in front of you both, "what do you think?" he enquires as you take in the view of his kingdom from the ultimate angle.

"It's certainly a powerful position to be in," you say quietly, acutely aware that you were perched on Eddie Munson's lap; the lap of someone you'd been pining over for as long as you could remember.

He studies your back, the way the netted cap sleeves on your dress covered the small tattoo you had on your shoulder that he ached to kiss and the way your hair caught on the small beads that adorned the fabric. He reaches out to free a lock of your hair from one of them, letting his fingers run through it slowly as he does, "sorry, your hair... caught on the bead," he explains as you jump a little at the unexpected contact.

Thank goodness he couldn't see your face right now and the soppy smile that has spread across it, "thanks," you mumble.

You rise from his lap, unable to keep your cool for much longer, then move to the side as he follows your lead once more.

"Here, hold my hand," he says, repeating your words from earlier.

You take his outstretched hand embarrassingly quickly, almost before he could finish his sentence, then he gives you his warmest smile as he brings you in close, "I don't know about you, but I think we've been dancing around each other for far too long," he speaks softly as you link your fingers through his other hand as well.

"I think you're right," you agree, taking one more step towards him so that your chests are pressed against one another.

"So what are we going to do about it?" he asks with a hopeful smile.

You nudge your nose against his then your lips meet in a tender first kiss that you'd both been waiting for for so long.

"That seems like a good thing to do," Eddie whispers once you've separated.

It had only taken until the last school dance to get the man of your dreams, but it was worth the wait.

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

���We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

Tag List(s):  (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

9-1-1 Taglist:

@julessbrown 

Julie and the Phantoms Taglist:

[filipinoizukuu]

hello mr simp do you have any thoughts on the leeks 👀

FIRST OF ALL. THEY CAME SO FUCKING EARLY??? BRO I WAS ASLEEP

SECOND OF ALL

holy SHIT YALL

Okay, it's no secret that I'm an All Might stan. I LOVE All Might. Very very much. Not just as a simp, but genuinely, I enjoy his character SO MUCH.

--And unlike what some people may think, I'm not totally blind to his flaws. I know he sucks as a mentor and that he's done way more harm to Deku than good. He's.... not perfect. in every sense of the word. The whole point of AM's character is that he is a DEEPLY FLAWED individual— but at the end of the day, still good.

This new chapter gave me SOOO many new feelings. I'm not gonna lie to y'all and say I was a Stain apologist beforehand because I wasn't. I disliked Stain to a certain degree, but I also knew he was morally grey enough that I was able to still quite appreciate him as a character. This chapter was about EVERYTHING to me because I honestly did NOT expect Hori to go in this direction and for things to happen the way they did. It was too good to be true! Too fanfic-y! The disbelief I felt when I read what happened was on par with when Bakugou and Deku had that apology and kinda-hug in the rain!

But this disbelief is not because it was a bad thing.

I think the writing in Chapter 326 is phenomenal. The moment that All Might was really beginning to lose hope in not just himself as a hero, but himself as a PERSON... we finally hear the opinion of someone who would abso-fucking-LUTELY make or break the last of his spirit.

Stain is, as much as his views are pretty agreeable and his label is that of a vigilante, still a pretty shitty guy. He's tried to kill literal kids who got in his way, even if said kids made pretty dumb decisions. AM hearing what he has to say is absolutely mind-boggling to him because he knows all of that. He knows Stain is a shitty person and that his worldview is perhaps terribly skewed. He knows Stain has spent a hot minute frying his brains down in Tartarus and isn't good at making judgment calls. Knows that for all intents and purposes, Stain's opinions are not to be trusted.

But the thing is... Toshinori also knows that Stain, regardless of the soundness of his mind, is telling the truth.

Regardless of how fucked-in-the-head Stain is, we as readers are able to acknowledge that he isn't blinded by hero worship. Sure, he's bitter, cynical, and quite the absolutist--but Stain is still clear-headed enough to be able to see AM's flaws for what they are and accept them, ultimately proving to Toshinori that the power of All Might was never his own but rather the legacy that he inspired.

The society MHA takes place in is flawed. We all know this. Heroes, as a concept, had been corrupted into being purely about good and evil. Purely winning fights for money or fame or the abstract concept of victory (coughs Endeavor and the no.1 spot coughs), making heroism as we know it about flashiness and power instead of mercy and the desire to help others.

All Might symbolizes the ideal version of the Hero Society. He represents doing the best you can. Being a hero until you reach your limits, and then going even past that. He symbolizes pure intention and the desire to be a hero not for material gains but because of the pure want to make society a better and safer place. Stain refers to Kamino Ward and the statue as a "holy land" because he believes that through and through, AM's only had the purest of intentions and morals. To him, Toshinori was like a deity that had no fault in making society what it was in the present because that accountability fell on the generations of heroes that failed to fulfill his legacy.

The point being, Stain understood that All Might was fundamentally not about 'being there' for everyone 24/7, but rather the message his presence had sent.

All Might's monologue at the beginning of the chapter essentially boiled down to the ideas that:

A. He regrets not being there properly for Deku

B. His image was a delusion that ultimately led to the downfall of hero society.

To break this down, his problem with Deku is his inability to be a competent mentor. It shows that he has led him down dangerous and horrible paths (Deku's stubbornness to do things by himself and his 'dark' arc post-war), and is unable to bring him back into the light even if he tries. It was only when Class 1-A had intervened that they were able to get Deku to rest and let people tag along, after all, which is why Toshinori was far too embarrassed to follow him into UA's walls even after everyone had come out with umbrellas.

Stain disproves this in two ways.

First, he says that it was never about All Might's ability to actually be there for people. The whole point of what inspired Deku to be the inherently good-hearted "true hero" he is today is because of the values that AM's brand had instilled in him as a child. AM's biggest positive impacts came from behind the screen where he was used as the proof that true heroes can and do exist. Deku does want to be exactly like All Might, yes, which is why we see Toshinori leading him down the same path that he walked--but the underlying message of this is that the very first thing All Might gave him even before OfA was the courage to help fix society.

I do believe Deku is an innately compassionate person. Most people in the series are. However, what makes All Might's smile so uniquely impactful to what it did to Hero Society is the way it gave people courage to help people. Less hesitation. Less bystander syndromes. The ability to move without thinking. Because you can feel the want to help a person, but the courage to be nosey and actually do it? That's portrayed as something AM's image teaches people.

The second way he disproves AM's insecurity of dragging Deku down is that he makes it clear that this pain is somewhat of a necessity in reforming society. He says, interestingly enough, that this is but the 'middle process' in reforming society. This spills over to how he addresses Problem B, but what Stain is essentially saying here is that this sort of brutality and isolation that Izuku faces is impermanent. A phase. It implies that even if Deku is struggling and Toshinori is unable to help him, it is something that needs to happen before they re-realize the ideal heroes All Might's image is meant to create.

The second problem in regards to how All Might feels about current society (how it's collapsing because of him, etc. etc.) is more interestingly addressed. There are many things that Stain says--like how Toshinori doesn't need to actually be the one to fix society with his bare hands. The current society is not his fault because of the fact that it is not finished developing. I'm not sure if I can go so far as to say that Stain means this in the sense of the Scorched Earth method of tearing everything down to build it back up better-- but I can say that Stain still has faith in society to rebuild after this period of chaos.

This rebuilding starts with the old generation of heroes correcting what they messed up (i.e. Endeavor v Dabi) and more importantly, paving the way for a better generation of heroes that was inspired by All Might's image. Heroes that are led by people like Deku, who is defined by his proclivity to help without thinking. The violent deconstruction of society is about exposing society to the raw truth of All Might's image that not everybody can be as strong as him-- which is why we have to take care of each other.

When the lady comes in to remove the sign and start cleaning the statue, it's symbolic. It's a clear metaphor that the past few chapters are the turning point for society as a whole, and how people are starting to remember what real heroism is. From the distrust that was seeded in society ever since LoV had surfaced, we are seeing that trust being returned TEN-FOLD now that people can see not only the mask of a hero's smile, but also the person underneath.

I think it's some really neat symbolism here too about how Deku, who's metal mouth guard was literally all about representing All Might's smile, is shed.

This is hero society dropping their masks. Letting people see them for as they are. Toshinori revisiting the statue in this form makes all the more impact because he shed his mask ages ago during the Kamino Bust, so this is him coming face to face with the image he's created and seeing the differences between them, and how his image continues to live on even after he's almost completely Quirkless. The lady cleaning the All Might statue shows off the fact that things can be repaired again--that society can be clean (hehe stain pun) again.

It's interesting to me here how Stain offers the information from Tartarus.

He doesn't care anymore about his life. It's evident. He disagrees with what the LoV is doing, but believes enough in Deku to think that it's time for him to retire the mantle of 'Stain'. Unless this is another test, it's very odd for me to hear that Stain is offering a blade and his life to someone he isn't even sure is All Might.

But the impact of this action reads loud and clear.

This is Stain taking pity on All Might. This is him realizing that All Might too is a person behind the hero. That Toshinori Yagi is incapable of doing anything past the image he had already created. By offering that knife and information on Tartarus, Stain is giving control back to Toshinori. He is giving AM the chance to do something big again to help society's reconstruction. To be a part of the revolution that he so badly deserves to see. That knife is essentially an exit ticket from the sidelines, and one last chance for All Might to be able to see what his image has done for people.

I personally think that the main reason Stain is willing to die then and there by Toshinori's hand, despite not being sure that he is All Might to begin with, is because of the final impact it creates that it isn't about Toshinori Yagi's true power as a person, but the image of All Might. It is because he looks like the symbol of peace, that Stain (the literal HERO KILLER) feels comfortable laying his life in his hands and giving away valuable information.

If that isn't a great testament to the power of AM's image, I don't know WHAT is.

I guess all I have to say is I absolutely love what Stain did in this chapter. Everything felt so incredibly symbolic and emotional and as someone who absolutely ADORES All Might and what he stands for in the story, this felt like a cool balm after seeing Deku tragically reject his bento box a good few chapters ago. I have a few more opinions about symbolism, and how I think Deku's generation of heroes is going to stray from the old gen, but I think that's a discussion for another time.

Thanks for reading 'til the end!

[marvelouspeterparker]

home

pairing: mob!tom holland x reader

request: okok i have a mob!tom idea... what about tom having to work until veeeryyyy late at night cause he’s like drowning in paperwork and all that mob crap i wouldn’t know about... and when he finally stops he comes to your room to find you asleep and he’s like instantly relieved to see his princess after all that stress (can involve some smutty smut or else what’s the point). by anonymous

warnings: smut but it’s soft

word count: 1.7k

notes: ok i love this concept + this has been a wip for a while now and i’m honestly not sure how i like it, i kinda struggled for some reason but i hope you enjoy. this wasn’t rly what i wanted to post first and i’m kinda nervous tbh but here you go! just a short, sweet smut to get back in the groove <3

There was something reassuring and almost soothing to Tom about coming home to you after a long day at work. His days were sometimes filled with blood, betrayal, violence, frustrations, and nothing good––but none of that would matter when he stepped into the comfort of your bedroom, the warmth of your embrace, basked in the light of your presence. 

He would often feel the tension rolling off of his shoulders as soon as he set his eyes on you, the light of his life. No matter how dark his days would get, how brutal his job forced him to become, you would always bring him back to you, with your words, your company. 

Tonight, was luckily not bloody, but rather boring and exhausting. Tom spent hours in a room with dozens of other men, bosses, associates of other mobs writing up agreements, making deals, negotiations over territories, clubs, money. He was done with them all the minute he stepped foot at the designated meetup location and even texted you throughout the meeting to get through it. As soon as everything was done he was the first one out of the door. 

You often tried to stay up and wait for him on long nights like these, but sometimes, you couldn’t overcome the fatigue, and Tom couldn’t blame you. As he stepped into your bedroom quietly, he perked up when he noticed the light was still on but smiled softly when he noticed your figure curled up on the bed. You were dressed in your pajamas, since it was technically early in the morning now, but you were lying on top of the covers, meaning you had tried to stay up but ultimately failed. 

Tom slowly closed the door, careful not to make too much noise and put his cufflinks away first, in the dish on the dresser, then he went into the walk-in closet and put his shoes away before undressing down to his boxers. It wasn’t until he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up before bed that you woke up, the sound of running water stirring you awake. 

“Tommy?” Your voice was sleepy and saccharine, luring him to bed like a siren. “Is that you?” 

“Yeah baby, I’m here.” He dried off and shut off the bathroom light before making his way over to your side. He bent down and brought a hand to your cheek, gently holding your face as he looked at you with tired eyes. 

You cleared your throat, your eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Did you just get here?” 

He nodded, his thumb caressing your cheek, this close to lulling you back to sleep. “Meeting went on for ages. They just would not stop talking.” You knew he was honestly irritated, but the frown on his face and the furrow between his brows was nothing but cute to you and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet breath of laughter, making him smile down at you. 

“Get in bed with me?” 

“Of course.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and climbed over you, pulling the covers out from under you and tucking the both of you in. You turned in his arms and placed a hand on his neck, looking up at him fondly. He looked at you for a moment before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours gently, leaving a few small pecks that got longer and longer until you were pulling each other closer, desperate to feel one another. You were breathing slowly and deeply, in sync, your arms wrapped around each other tightly.

You rubbed your thighs together, suddenly remembering how needy you had gotten when he was gone before you had fallen asleep. You took a deep breath and sighed at the feeling and Tom quirked a brow, immediately recognizing the sound. 

He pulled away slightly and brought his hand back up to your cheek, taking note of the glint in your gaze. “I know that look in your eye, darling.” He smirked softly. “Someone feeling a bit needy?” 

“Please.” You pouted, mind too tired to let out full sentences and Tom was quick to indulge you.

His hand trailed down between your legs and raised his brows when he felt the wetness on your panties. “See you kept busy while I was gone, hm darling?” You nodded innocently and he growled, capturing your lips with his, his voice hot and heavy with need as he whispered against your mouth. “Yeah? You touched your pretty pussy thinking about me while I was away? Such a naughty little thing.” He quickly slipped your panties off and out of the way and bit his lip at how you purred and arched under his touch, your body practically melting from the touch it was desperately aching for. 

You rolled your hips as his fingers swiped between your folds, spreading your mess around almost lovingly. Tom slipped a finger inside you and kissed down to your neck, making sure to leave a few bold marks just the way he liked. You felt him smirk against your skin before his tongue swiped against it, a second finger making its way into you. It didn’t take long for him to find and tease your spot with his fingertips––the feeling making you gasp and writhe under him, your hands desperately reaching to grab his hair in one and his arm in the other.

He pumped his digits in and out of you at a teasing pace until your skin felt hot and you could barely breathe, until he could see from the look in your eye and the way your lips parted, unable to let words pass through them, that you needed more. Soon enough, his fingers were quickly pounding into you, the sound of your wetness against his hand almost deafening in the quiet room. 

He nuzzled against your cheek adoringly as if he wasn’t touching your most sensitive parts. His voice was as soft as his lips as they grazed against your skin. “Come on lovie, fall apart on my fingers. Wanna feel you make a mess in my palm.” He pressed his thumb against your bundle of nerves and your fingers dug further into him, your mouth dropping open as you finally reached your peak. 

Your back arched slowly and you swore you could feel every muscle in your body from your head to your toes as the pleasure spread through your core, your stomach, and down your thighs. The world went silent for a few seconds until you came to again, the feeling of Tom’s lips against your cheek and his fingers soothingly rubbing between your legs bringing you back.

You blinked slowly a few times before turning to look at him, a lazy smile on your face. You slid a hand up to his jaw and closed the distance between you, thanking him through a passionate kiss. You tried to pull him on top of you and he obliged, sliding between your legs without pulling away from your lips. He pressed his hips down against yours and you gasped into the kiss from the feeling of the fabric against your sensitive core. 

Tom sucked on your bottom lip and pulled away teasingly slowly to look in your eyes, one of his hands caressing your cheek, the other holding him up. “Are you sure you’re not too tired, love?” 

You shook your head immediately, “Just want you. Need you.” 

He smiled and kissed your cheek. “Well my girl always gets what she wants, doesn’t she?” You bit your lip and nodded up at him cheekily, prompting him to kiss you again, this time on the lips. He pulled his member out and lined up at your entrance, swallowing your moans as he slid into you. He bottomed out and ground his hips against yours, relishing in the gasp you let out. He took both of your hands and pinned them on either side of you head, his fingers interlocked with yours as he started to thrust into you, his eyes watching you fondly and lustfully.

You whined and looked up at him, “Missed you Tommy.” 

“Yeah baby?” He moved closer and let his lips graze yours. “Well I missed this tight cunt too.” You moaned loudly, your head tilting back and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you, leaning down to thrust deeper and slower, letting you feel every inch of him inside of you, all of his warmth on top of you. 

The two of you were holding on to each other, almost merging with how close you were––moaning and panting as you raced towards your highs. Your lips slotted together messily and desperately but still lovingly as you got closer and closer. 

“Can feel you clenching baby. Shit––You gonna come on my cock?” 

You wrapped your arms and legs around him tight and nodded, “Yes, please Tommy make me come––”

He slid his hand down to play with your clit the way you needed and groaned as his pace got sloppier, his thrusts deep and hard. “Fuck, come on darling, let go. Wanna feel you drip down my cock, that’s it––”

Your fingertips dug into his back and he buried his face into the crook of your neck as your back arched again, a sharp moan ripping from your throat as your body shuddered under his before he came undone soon after, biting your shoulder as he filled you up. 

You stayed like that, holding each other for a while before Tom started to get up slowly, kissing every inch of skin he could until he reached your lips, making you smile giddily. Though he wanted to stay in your arms forever if he could, he knew it was only right that he get up to clean you up. 

After gently dismissing your whines and pouts for him to stay in bed and kissing the back of your hand before promising to come back soon––it wasn’t long before he had tenderly cleaned you up with a soft washcloth and gotten back in bed with you.

He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you again, resuming the first position you’d been in when he’d first gotten home. You placed your head on his chest and looked up at him sleepily with a small smile which he returned. 

He pressed his lips against your forehead and swiped his thumb across your cheek, lulling you to sleep yet again. “You are the love, the light of my life.” 

You smiled and leaned up to kiss him softly. “And you’re my home.”