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tiredmamaissy · 11 months ago

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI

Labor of Love - Part II

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: zero smut, angst angst angst, mention of past trauma, expletives, pregnancy, contractions, heavily described labour, blood, mild physical violence, reader is really going through it, ralak is too but he'll be alright i promise, brother!neteyam makes a star appearance, cute family fluff, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 6.5k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hope you're enjoying your tour in angst town...we're almost finished. You could say we're nearing the final attraction, so continue to keep your seatbelts buckled. lol why am i like this? anyways... please don't hate me for this chapter, and i will try my best to get the next one out quicker so you guys can get some closure lool :)

Synopsis: You didn't plan for things to turn out this way. But no amount of denial can make reality go away...

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And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished. His karyu.

Time chips by at a torturous pace. You spend the first hour sitting on the beach, eating some fruit whilst watching what your brothers get up to. Neteyam, of course, is bearing most of the responsibility whilst Lo’ak and Tuk are taking a more easy approach to the day. Mom and dad made sure to leave them with a list of things to get done whilst they’re away—number one being to keep an eye on their sisters.

Number one, check.

All that floods your mind is your mate and if he’s okay. You try to process everything he’s said but it’s all too much to wrap your head around. All too new. Your brothers aren’t much help either, as they claim to be ‘out the loop’ as much as you are. You know it's bullshit, and probably just another thing that they’ve been ordered to keep from you so as not to ‘stress you out’.

Regardless, it’s all you can think about.

Until you feel your son do a flip in your womb, big enough to make you gasp. Your hands immediately fly to your belly, feeling around to gauge his position. A pressure begins to grow against your bladder. One so intense it presses into your tailbone too. The pads of your fingers sink into the skin, tapping around as you make out a leg, then a knee. A hand to the left.

Is he…head down? You think to yourself.

“Everything alright?” Neteyam asks, concern wrinkling his forehead.

“Hm?” You look up, seeing the outline of his silhouette in front of the sun.

“You okay? You’re…you look a little—”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. He’s moving a lot today.” You smile, catching Tuk excitedly running over in the corner of your eye.

“Really? Can I feel? Please?” She squeals excitedly, falling to her knees in the sand next to you.

“Of course, Tuk.” You smile, and place her hand on top of your stomach, right where his foot is. Only a few seconds pass by until your son gives Tuk a strong kick, making her mouth open with glee.

“Wow! Tey, you gotta feel this!” Tuk exclaims, tugging your brother by the hand so he’s next to you too. Neteyam looks at you, unsure if you’re okay with it. You nod with a gentle smile, tugging his hand over to the other side of your stomach. His hand hovers as he hesitates for a moment, this is his first time feeling his nephew move. He gives you a final look, and gently rests his hand on your belly

A few moments pass and nothing.

“Aww, he stopped moving.” Tuk sighs with a pout.

“Patience, Tuk.” You whisper, feeling him kick on cue. Her face lights up with a beaming smile and Neteyam seems to be in awe with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Woah, y/n. Your tummy’s getting hard.” Tuk says innocently, looking at her brother to see if he feels it too.

“Hm?” You hum, feeling a bit spaced out and achy.

“It is.” Neteyam lets go and keeps his hands to himself, feeling like he’s invading your personal space. A heat floods your back, and you feel your thighs spasm. You begin to groan, holding your breath until the strange feeling subsides. “Hey. You okay?”

You nod, finally release your breath, and hear Tuk’s excited voice. “It’s all soft now!”

“All good.” You smile, but Neteyam doesn’t seem convinced at all. “Ronal says they are normal. They aren’t the real thing. Mom had them with Tuk, remember?”

Neteyams' features soften as he nods, prying his little sister's hands off of you. “Ease up now, Tuk.”

“Sorry, sis.” She says quietly, ears laying flat to her head.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” You say as you roll to your side to get up, shamelessly using Neteyam to gain some momentum. “Think it’s time for me to take a walk, though.”

“Yes, sure. Where are we going?” Neteyam asks, ready to accompany you anywhere.

“I’m going down to the rocks.” You emphasise on the first word, making it clear you need some alone time after being babysat all day. “I think Lo’ak needs some help with the net.”

Neteyam and Tuk look over to see their brother struggling with a tangled fishing net, and turn back to see that you’re already waddling down the beach.

——

Suddenly, Ralak’s back inside of his family marui pod on his iknimaya night. Trapped. Small. Powerless. Cornered by a person he once looked up to. A person he trusted. Manipulated by her heat— her pheromones. A crime punishable by banishment. Forced to give, forced to receive. A betrayal he’ll never forget. A face he swore to himself that he would never see again.

No wonder they ‘demanded’ his presence.

Tonowari and Ronal lose their colour when their eyes land on her. It’s been so many years. They quickly look over to Ralak, who is seemingly falling to pieces where he stands. The expression on his face is no short of pure shock and… terror. Truthfully, the last time they’d seen such an expression on his face was the deaths of his parents and spirit brother. Jake and Neytiri aren’t aware of what’s going on, but they know it must be serious for Ralak to be so…expressive.

They can even see his shoulders heave from how hard he’s breathing, and how his face of terror quickly morphs into something of fury. Tonowari notices the way he tightens his grip on his weapon, and his eyes as they gloss over red with rage. It takes a lot to make this man blind with anger. Tonowari knows if he doesn't step in now that this could turn sour in the blink of an eye.

——

Two.

Releasing a shaky exhale, you begin your walk back to your siblings. That was the second ‘practice’ contraction you’ve had since starting your walk, and your third since coming here with your brothers. Your waddle is becoming more sluggish with each step and the fire in your back is beginning to burn hotter rather than fade out.

“Not now, little one.” You whisper as you caress your bump. “…please.”

Weariness sets in as you make it halfway back, making you perch on your knees to take a break. The fire spreads from your back to your thighs, and up your stomach. You brace yourself for the tight feeling, holding your breath in the base of your chest. You grumble a little, swaying side to side until it passes, which thankfully doesn’t take more than a few seconds.

Three.

Finally making it back to the beach, you see Neteyam and Lo’ak hauling a few sacks on their backs, with Tuk skipping behind them. You overhear Lo’ak trying to convince Neteyam to let him be with the other warriors, and Neteyam reminding him of your parents orders. They stop mid sentence when they hear your heavy, muffled footsteps, taking one look at you and knowing that something isn’t right. Lo’ak in particular, to your surprise.

“Damn. You look exhausted.” Lo’ak says, earning a jab in the rib by Neteyams elbow. “What? She looks like she’s about to pass out.”

“You can’t say that to a pregnant woman, skxawng [idiot].” Neteyam hisses.

“It’s fine. He’s not wrong.” You say, tail dragging low and heavy behind you. Ralak still clouds your mind, and you’re eager to know if he’s back yet. “I want to go home now. I really need to lie down.”

Neteyam just nods, understanding that something deeper is going on. “I will take you.”

“I got it, bro.” Lo’ak interjects, plunking the sack off his back and onto the ground.

“Stay with Tuk.” Neteyam orders, clicking for his skimwing.

“Why don’t you stay with Tuk?” Lo’ak snaps back.

“Guys. Please?” You sigh, waddling towards the winged beast, throwing a leg over its tough back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Come ‘teyam.” Neteyam smirks, making the bond with the beast and mounting it in one swift move.

As you arrive at your marui, you see Zu’té at the outside fire pit, concentrating on not burning yet another type of meat-on-a-stick. Hearing your arrival, Zu’té turns and acknowledges your presence. He puts down the sizzling meat on a leaf, allowing the fire to continue to burn as he begins to make his way over to collect you. Neteyam and him exchange glances and silent greetings, and suddenly the air is thick.

“Right…I’m going up. Thank you, tey. See you.” You say out of breath, giving him a quick hug.

“Let me—” Neteyam begins.

“No, I’m okay.” You cut off your brother, hualing yourself off the tsurak.

“Right. Kìyevame [see you again soon]. If you need me, send your watchdog.” He speaks clearly, holding you by the wrist to steady you as you get off.

“I will, tey.” You chuckle lightly and make your way to the marui. Neteyam waits patiently, making sure you get in safely.

Zu’té is only half way there when you reach the bottom step, already offering his arm for the stairs. You sigh and shake your head, hurriedly climbing the stairs as fast as your swollen ankles will allow it. For some reason, his gesture really annoys you. Your mood is off and you feel queasy and achy—like your entire body is throbbing.

All you want is for everyone around you to stop babying you, and let you be alone for the rest of the day.

“I got it.” Your voice strains as you wobble ahead, leaving Zu’té and your brother behind. Neteyam remains silent for some time, locking eyes with Zu’té.

‘Keep a close eye.’ Neteyam signs with disquiet wrinkling his forehead. Zu’té gives him a puzzled look at first, but slowly nods when he successfully deciphers the message. Neteyam nods as well and dives underwater.

By the time Zu’té gets to the bottom step, you’re already at the top, clutching onto the railing as you lean forward in pain. You couldn’t even make it into the pod without another hitting you so soon. You take a few deep breaths rather than holding it in, waiting until the tight feeling subsides.

Four.

Zu’té darts up the stairs to your side, offering a hand in support only to be swatted away. “What is it?”

“It is nothing.” You catch your breath and insist that it was nothing—because it was nothing, right?

His brows furrow in disbelief, a look of concern washing over his face. Zu’té allows his eyes to fall to your bulging, veiny belly for the first time, taking in the sight. “You were in pain.”

“I’m fine.” You’re short with him, stony eyes staring into his.

“Someone once told me no good comes from pretending that things don’t hurt.”

“Well nothing’s happening until my husband is back. Okay?” You try to remain nonchalant, to believe your own words.

He simply stares down at you for a bit, analysing your facial expression. Despite your stone cold facade, he can easily see the fear etched into your features. Fear that this baby may come before Ralaks return and that if you allow yourself to accept reality, then it may really come true. He glances down at your hand still stuck to the side of your stomach and swallows, looking back up to you.

“Understood.”

“Right. Now...” You huff, contemplating if you should say what you want to say. You feel like telling him to back off—to give you some space. But he’s obviously just making sure you’re okay. “...I need to lie down. Just, keep an eye out for—”

“My brother? Sure. Rest well.”

——

“Ay’ana.”

The Olo’eyktan lets out a lengthy growl, earning a look from the traitor herself.

“Waari.” She sings with a grin, shifting her leer to his mate behind him. “Ronal.” Her eyes fall to her swollen belly, “You are expecting…again.”

It wasn’t a, ‘congratulations’ either, no. But rather a ‘I see that you are the most vulnerable.’

Ronal scowls, hissing through her teeth. Tonowari steps in front of his mate, blocking her from Ay’ana’s view.

It was one thing to commit kawngkem [a crime; evil deed] and be banished for it, but it’s another to seek uturu with the enemy. She is no longer considered to be among the ‘banished’, but is now the ‘enemy’.

Ay’ana looks behind Tonowari, not at Ronal, but at the two deeper skinned, slender na’vis. She scoffs, the corner of her mouth pulling into an evil smirk, revealing her sharpened teeth. Tonowaris eyes widen when he sees that she’s completely adapted to this vile peoples’ ways by putting a file to her teeth. Her eyes flick past them to the last person, the most important.

“Ralak.” She slowly moans his name as she peers up at him with sultry eyes, allowing her tongue to glaze over her canines. “Such a pleasure.” Ralak winces, chest heaving violently as it fills with repulsion and loathing. “Ah. I remember you being quiet, but not this quiet. Nothing to say to your karyu?”

——

A couple hours have passed and the pain is enough to disrupt your rest. The sunlight dulls with each passing minute, casting a familiar orange hue into the marui. It comes in waves, rippling through you like a bolt of lightning striking the tallest tree in the forest. Making it hard to tell yourself that things are okay—making it hard to keep things quiet.

“Agh!” You groan suddenly, feeling another jolt of electricity shoot up your spine. It stops you in your tracks, the tracks you’ve been burning into the floor with your constant, nervous pacing. You quiet down into a whisper, “...please wait for your sempu [daddy], my child.”

“You—uhm.” You hear Zu’té clear his throat at the door, projecting his voice so that you can hear him through the curtain, “You alright in there?”

“Mmn—yes! Fine.” You grate out, making your way back to the bed to lie down. Your feet are so sore.

“Hungry?” He asks, food in hand in the case you were.

“‘m not.” You try to speak up, but you’re still in the height of the contraction.

He grits his teeth, leaning into the frame of the marui door. “I didn’t burn it this time.”

You wish you could laugh, but you can’t even muster up the strength to raise your voice.

Zu’té lingers at the door quietly, knowing plain as day that you weren’t okay. “...what about water?”

“No...I’ve got.” You say at a normal volume, finally released from the constraints of your pain.

You begin closing your eyes in hopes that sleep may find you, even if it's just for a few minutes. Zu’té remains at the door for a moment longer, feeling so helpless and useless. He sinks back to the floor, putting down the meat and picking up a new, special piece to weave.

Weaving passed the time, distracting him from the tiny sounds that managed to escape your mouth.

Until night fell, and those tiny sounds morphed into deep, lengthy groans and high pitched wails.

��—

“Let us begin.” Tonowari speaks over Ay’ana, averting all attention back to their leader, another female that goes by the name of ‘Varang’.

She’s almost grey in colour, embellished with a red headpiece that resembles something of an ikrans wings. Her eyes narrow as she looks straight at Tonowari, standing close to his height.

“Let us.” She hisses with a smile, leading Tonowari to a smaller, private room sectioned by a leather curtain. She motions to Ay’ana to accompany her, leaving the rest of her men to stay with the others. Tonowari lets out a soft grunt, and grits his teeth. He knows he must choose, but his mate is heavy with child and Jake has no interest in leaving his mate in such a place alone. Therefore, he must choose his right hand—Ralak. He motions with a quick tilt of his head, prompting Ralak to clutch his weapon close to his chest and follow closely behind.

——

“Y/n.” Zu’té’s at the curtain again, half considering to pull it back and come in on his own terms. But he would never invade your privacy like that. And by the sounds of it, things are picking up. “Do you need the healer?”

“No!” You shout out of breath, wobbling to the door with a hand clutching your stomach. You lean all your weight against the wall, knowing he’s on the other side waiting. “No healer.”

You’re drenched in sweat, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. He hears your back slide against the surface, and he mirrors your movements, sitting on the floor too. Only a wall sits between your backs, separating you two.

“You’re in labour.” Zu’té speaks, his poor attempt at urging you to face reality.

You know that. Of course you know that. But you don’t want it to be true—you didn’t expect it to happen this way—you didnt want it to happen this way. You take a few deep breaths, concentrating on breathing through the remainder of this horrible feeling. And when it’s finally over, you rest your head against the wall and close your eyes—leaving silence to fill the air.

Where are you, Ralak?

——

The room is much smaller than the one they were in, equipped with some sort of table or workbench with a few spears and bows mounted on the wall. Ralak stands quietly behind Tonowari, as does Ay’ana to Varang.

As they negotiate the terms of the treaty, Ay’ana keeps her eyes locked onto Ralak with a smug look on her face. Her hungry eyes wander, shamelessly taking in every inch of the man before her, surprised by how much he has changed. He’s much bigger, more filled out in his warrior attire. His muscles—more defined, thicker. His skin—calloused and scarred. Inked, unlike before.

And as her eyes trail down the line between his abs they lay upon the six stripes that peak out over the band of his loincloth. Her eyes widen and glisten with greed before darting back up to his face, meeting his eyes that bore into her fearlessly.

What’s worse is that she can see that his mind is elsewhere.

That his mind runs on you. You’re all he’s been thinking about since he stepped off the reef. He feels deep in his heart that something isn’t right back home. That you need him. That perhaps, you’re calling for him right now, swollen and heavy with his child.

And it bothers her.

“It is decided, then.” Tonowari speaks in a confident tone.

“Yes, it is.” Varang’s smile is uncanny as she unsheaths a small, double edged knife from her hip.

She grabs Tonowari by the hand, placing the blade in the middle of his palm, and closes his fingers around it. She rips it from his hand, drawing blood, and then hands Tonowari the knife and gives him her hand. He returns the unsettling act, slitting her palm. She keeps a smile on her face, locking hands with him until their blood combines and drips to their feet.

Supposedly, it is a method of establishing some level of trust between the two. Where each has the ability to do much greater harm, but makes the deliberate choice not to. Then, when blood has been drawn, it is mixed by bringing the hands together, sealing the treaty.

“Bound by blood.” Varang whispers, letting go of his hand to bring hers to her mouth for a taste.

She sighs and smiles, popping a thumb in her mouth before gesturing to him that they leave. Tonowari fights the flinch on his face, disturbed by her behaviour. Ay’ana stays back, watching the two leaders exit the room. But as Ralak is about to leave behind Tonowari, Ay’ana calls for him.

——

Another couple agonising hours pass, and you’re constantly changing positions in hopes of finding some relief. Desperation sets in, making you beg the great mother herself to guide you through this. To bring your mate back home. But there’s still no sign of his return. The night dew settles on all the surfaces around you. Pacing no longer helps, leaving you to take refuge in your bed, panting and shivering.

No matter how much you twist and turn, your stomach only tightens more. Deep groans rip past your lips to cope with the feeling—the pain shooting through your core. Beads of sweat roll off your body at an alarming rate, soaking the sheets on your bed. You feel him move further down, his head now sitting plush in your pelvis, creating an immense pressure that’s almost unbearable. His feet press into your ribs, and with each strained breath you begin to yearn for your mate more and more. For his comforting touch. For the bond.

“Ralak…”

——

“Ralak.” She sings, making him stop dead in his tracks. “A word.”

His ears tuck back and he looks at Tonowari, who gives him a begrudged nod. Ralak sighs and turns around, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face. He remains silent, his hand practically bonded to his spear.

“Still tight lipped, hm? Come now, tak. That is no way to treat your karyu.” She speaks in a condescending tone, approaching him warily.

Ralak nearly takes the bait, a heat growing in his chest so hot it makes his jaw tense. How dare she call herself that? To taint such a word? He swallows, taking a single, deep breath to recenter himself as he looks away from her.

“I have to admit.” She steps towards him, the crown of her head meeting the bow of his shoulder. “You have grown into a fine man. You are taller than me now.”

Ralak just looks down at her, still as stone, his mind consumed with the fact that he could be on his way home to you but this…vile creature is keeping him away. But he will do what he needs to keep you safe, even if it means to tolerate this for the time being.

With no reaction, Ay’ana grows frustrated and begins circling him, a single finger tracing around his body.

“You know…My body still yearns for you.” She speaks with a sultry voice, stopping at his side and bringing herself to the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear, “...especially when I’m in heat.”

For a second, Ralak succumbs to her tactics, the ones she used to use on him years ago. A memory, forcibly resurfaced, reminding him of the way she whispered in his ear on that night. It makes him feel so small. Impotent. But only for a second. Ralak recoils, stepping back to create distance between them. He towers over her, dwarfing this small, lanky woman, regaining his confidence and power.

“Is that all?” He growls, looking her dead in the eye—facing his past with no fear.

Facing the reason why he lived in a bottle before he met you. You. You. He can feel you. He can feel you yearn for him and he’s ready to come home to you. For this to be over.

He’s too focused on you to even notice Ay’ana’s face of shock. Shock to know that she’s been releasing her pheromones this entire time and he’s been completely oblivious to them. Which only means one thing.

“You’re mated.” She gasps.

And he’s back.

Staring at a mirror now that he is, too, in a state of shock. Ralak’s heart leaps out his chest, beating so hard that Ay’ana can hear it. How could she know that? He watches as a grin spreads across her face, ear to ear. She knows she’s got him now, despite the jealousy bubbling inside her. She could use this to her advantage—it didn’t matter to her that he’s called for, after all.

“Using tsaheylu for such useless things.” She bellows a wicked laugh, which fades out when she sees an even more serious look on his face. A look that tells her he’s trying to mask something more, something deeper. “Oh? Is there more to it?” The twitch of his brows and quick flare to his nostrils reveals the truth. “I have to know. What is it, hm?” She nears him once more, two fingers walking up his chest. “Come now, you were never this hard to read.”

Ralak remains silent, focusing on slowing his heart rate.

“Is she ill?” She asks as she searches his eyes, fingers grazing across his quivering jawbone. “No, no. It’s not that.” She sighs, stepping closer and closer until his back hits the wall. He moves his head away from her touch, still looking her in the eye—refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Her eyes light up and her ears stand tall.

“She carries your child, doesn’t she?” Her eyes gloss over green with envy. “Pregnant.”

Ralak swallows his spit, the lump in the column of his throat quickly undulating.

“There it is. I knew you would make strong babies.” Her hand slips down his chest, slithering over his abs and down to the twine of his loincloth, causing him to jolt. “Ralak.” She moans his name slowly, “Oh, Ralak. The last I see of you, you were barely covered in this vile ink with no one at your side…and now you are mated and a father to be.” Her fingers tickle the raised skin on his most intimate tattoo. “I have always longed to be bred by you.” Her fingers attempt to burrow themselves under the band of his loincloth.

“Enough.” He lets out a deep growl, shoving her away, dropping his weapon in doing so. She loses and quickly regains her balance in a few seconds, throwing herself on him. He grabs her by the wrists, restraining her with ease so that she can’t come any closer to him.

“Perhaps we need to renegotiate the terms so that you are a part of them, yes?” Her voice is full of desperation, trembling as she strains against him. “How does that sound numeyu? You know we have a population problem, right? We could all use you.”

“I have no interest in being your stud.” Ralak spits, forcefully shoving her away, causing her to stumble back and for her head to hit the table.

He moves quickly, picking up his spear off the ground and heading for the door. She lunges at him, dagger unsheathed from her hip and armed in her hand, whilst her other arm snakes around his throat to pull him onto the ground.

During the struggle, Ralak drags her off his back, resulting in a nasty gash from his collarbone and down his shoulder blade. He hisses from the burn, instantly assuming an offensive stance to plunge his spear through. Ay’ana returns the hiss, crouching with her bloodied dagger ready to strike.

“I will kill you.” Ralak threatens, nearing the pointed tip closer and closer to her chest. “And I will take great joy in doing so.”

“Is that right?” Ay’ana hisses, tail wagging in excitement with unsettling smile spread across her face. She looks as if she’s toying with him. As if she’s playing a game and she’s winning. “Let me have a taste of you.”

“Nìtam! [Enough!]” Tonowari roars as he yanks back the curtain, instantly averting Ay’ana’s attention to him. Perhaps it was her roots calling her to respond to her true leader. Varang appears beside him with a scowl stained on her face, displeased with her subordinate. One more move and the treaty would’ve already been broken.

“Easy, Tak.” Tonowari murmurs, and Ralak relaxes into position next to him, blood trickling down his chest and back.

“Come with me.” Varang snarls at Ay’ana, seizing her by the queue.

“Night has fallen. We will take our leave.” Tonowari speaks roughly, trying his hardest to contain his anger as he rests a careful hand resting on Ralak—leading him out the room.

“In another ten years, Olo’eyktan.”

Tonowari grunts as he and the rest push past the swarming ash people. As soon as they’re far enough, he stops Ralak and has Ronal safely look at his wound. It’s weeping and open, prone to a nasty infection if not dressed immediately. She unclasps her medicine pouch from her hip, and retrieves a small bottle of iridescent liquid, a viscous concoction of herbs, and a needle and thread.

“Come, son.” Tonowari speaks softly, ripping the cork from the small bottle with his back teeth and spitting it on the ground. “That vonvä’.”

Ralak sits on the nearest rock, elbows propped on his knees and head hung low to hide his face. Jake and Neytiri observe in silence, cringing as Tonowari douses the gash with the liquid as Ronal prepares the needle and thread.

Ralak groans, biting down tooth on tooth.

Tonowari leaves a little left in the bottle, offering it to Ralak who is visibly trying to keep it together. He plucks the bottle from Tonowari’s hand and knocks it back, puffing out a sigh.

“Keep still.” Ronal orders, driving the wooden needle through his skin.

Ralak grumbles, letting his head hang between his knees and his hair fall forward. At this point Neytiri looks away, but Jake can’t. His eyes are plastered to the scene unfolding before him as he recognizes his son-in-law’s strength and perseverance.

“That should hold until we are back.” She declares, gathering her supplies and stuffing them back into her pouch.

“Irayo [thank you], Ronal.”

“You’re strong, boy.” Jake mumbles, patting Ralaks back as he gets up. “Anyone care to explain what the hell happened back there?”

Ralak just shakes his head, leaving Tonowari to speak for him. “I will explain on the way back. You all have someone waiting for you.”

Ralak’s ears spring up at the thought of you, giving him a burst of energy to spring to his feet, gather his gear and lead the trek himself. The women walk behind him, concerned about his wound. Tonowari and Jake are left at the back, sharing a look before they begin their journey.

——

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant, looking down at your trembling hands that sink into the bed through double vision. You sway from side to side, trying to take steady, deep breaths, but the pressure between your legs is starting to make you panic. The possibility that you may have to do this alone is quickly becoming a reality.

Zu’té is the one doing the pacing now, unable to sit still in his spot for much longer. He has long abandoned his woven pieces, burning lines into the patio floor as he walks back and forth outside—conflicted on his next move.

He doesn’t want to go against your wishes and call a healer without you requesting it. But he must keep his word to Ralak—to keep you safe—which means calling for a healer. He chews on the toughened skin on his thumb, listening to your continuous whimpers and whines. By the sounds of it, you’re in active labour now, ready to give birth at any moment.

——

A few hours have passed since they started the trek back home. Everyone has fallen into new positions that work for them. Ralak, eager to be at his pregnant mate’s side, leads the pack, clearing the path for the others. Jake and Neytiri stay not too far behind him, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings. Tonowari and Ronal are far at the back, linked together as she trudges on despite her extreme weariness.

“Let us take another break.” Tonowari speaks quietly to his mate, hand on her stomach. They share a look, speaking to one another with their eyes. She doesn’t want to hold up the group much more than she already has.

“No. We are almost there—ugh!” Ronal lets out a sudden groan, clutching her stomach as she doubles over.

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, turning around with wide eyes. Tonowari supports her, and carefully walks her over to a nearby fallen log, lowering her down onto it. She takes a few deep breaths as Neytiri and Jake rush over to her.

“Is it time?” Neytiri asks, crouching down next to her. Ronal nods once, completely in tune with her body and aware of exactly what’s happening.

Which is why she insisted they continue, or else she won’t make it back in time. Ralak watches at a distance, his face contorting with sheer worry. No, borderline distress. He looks almost mortified, but not for the reasons that one may think. They all know why, it's obvious. If Ronal is in labour,

…that means you probably are too.

“Go ahead.” Ronal pants, beads beginning to form at her temple.

But Ralak doesn’t move. He can’t move. He’s at conflict with himself. An internal battle of knowing that he should stay and help, even though he really wants to go—needs to go.

“We got it, son. Go to her.” Jake huffs as he helps Tonowari lift Ronal to carry her. “Go on!” He shouts, prompting Ralak to look to his father figure for approval, to which he meets him with a quick nod before averting his attention back to his labouring mate. And with Neytiri’s soft smile of reassurance, Ralak takes a few steps back before turning his heel and booking it home.

——

“Haah…holy fuck—holy fuck.” You moan, feeling another contraction start up and the pressure between your legs intensify.

This one has you on your hands and knees, clutching the bed head so hard your nails dig into the wood. It’s undeniable now. This baby is coming whether you like it or not. And as the contraction reaches its peak, you scream.

“Zu’té!” It pains you to cry out for his name and not your mates. Hearing your call—your permission to enter—he finally bursts through the door and rushes to your side.

“I’m here, I’m here.” He’s out of breath and on edge.

“I think—oh god—I think the baby’s coming!” You cry out, swooping your hand between your legs to try and feel what’s happening.

“Shit. Like now? Like right now?” Zu’té panics as he watches you, hands hovering around you, unsure of what to do.

“I d-don’t know! I—I don’t—I want Ralak! Fuck, fuck. I want lak!” You cry out in sheer agony. “I want my mate. I-I need him!”

“Y/n. Eywa.” Desperation is potent in his voice now.

The fact that you’re calling out for his brother means the time has come and he feels like a fool to have let this get this far without stepping in. He swallows and takes a breath to calm down, just as your contraction ends and leaves you sobbing on your knees.

“I’m getting the healer.” He says firmly, turning his heel to leave but you grab his wrist before he can walk away.

“No! Don’t leave…Please don’t leave me alone.” You beg, fear glossing over your eyes until it spills onto your cheeks once more. He looks at you with furrowed brows, lamenting for you. Now he’s really conflicted, because this means…it’s him or no one.

“Ah, shit. Shit. Uhm.” He rakes his fingers through his scalp, thinking about his next move. He’s seriously considering going regardless, able to see the situation for what it is.

“Please, Zu’té.” You plead weakly, slowly lowering yourself onto your behind and off your knees, leaning back into the bedhead.

“Okay, okay.” He nods and you let go of his wrist, immediately using your hand to support your stomach. You let your eyes close, they’re swollen and heavy. “Uh–right, right.”

For some reason he can’t stop repeating himself twice. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping grounded. He heads straight for the bucket of water and rag to bring it over to you. He dips the rag into the water, and wrings it out. You barely open your eyes at the sound of the bucket making contact with the floor, and see that he’s nearing you with a damp cloth and raised brows. He’s waiting for your go ahead.

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse and trembling.

Zu’té begins to wipe away the sweat that’s dripping in your eyes, your forehead, neck and chest. Dipping the rag back into the water, he wrings it out once more and wipes down your shoulders and arms. You can’t help but sit there and close your eyes, allowing him to do it all, exhausted.

Feeling something press against your lips, you open your eyes in a daze. Zu’té holds a cup of water to your mouth, and you drink ardently, gasping for air and closing your eyes when it’s emptied. Sleep calls to you, taking you as you barely manage to mutter out a weak, “...thank you.”

Zu’té calculates another five minutes before your next contraction, giving him enough time to fetch a fresh pail of water—something absolutely necessary for the birth. He leaves you sat up against the bedhead, rag on your forehead as you sleep. But not even three minutes go by before he hears your languid moan.

Abandoning the bucket, he rushes back into the marui, finding you standing and holding onto the marui stilt with one hand as the other tugs at the strap of your top. Seeing you try to undress has him stopping in his tracks and turning his head to look away.

“Y/n—”

“Ughhaa—” You grunt, untethering the knot of your top. Your body is trying to get comfortable for the birth of your son now, and these pieces of cloth feel suffocating. “Get out!”

With that, Zu’té turns and retreats back to the patio, hands on his head as he begins to make his plan. If he flew on his skimwing, he could make it to the village and back with a healer in about ten minutes. But would that be enough time? What if you didn’t have ten minutes? Your pained groan turns into a howl and it makes his ears twitch.

By the sound of that, you might not even have five minutes.

“Come on, baby brother. Don’t make me do this. Please. Don’t make me go back in there. Oh shit—I’m going to have to go back in there, aren’t I? Eywa. Eywa. Okay—It’s okay. I can do this. Childbirth. It’s just childbirth. Right? Right.”

Zu’té tries to convince himself that he’s capable of this despite this not being what he signed up for.

“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.”

Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice.

“Brother.”

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eliza-and-her-monsters · 5 months ago

Text

the tortured poets department

a story told in multiple parts

vi x reader

Info Post

Moodboards

Next Part

Contains: college au, dark/light academia, writer reader, singer reader, neurodivergent/autistic reader (i’m autistic so i’m writing from my own experiences), sporty vi, hockey player vi, big sister caitlyn, best friend ellie williams, roommate ellie williams, will contain other familiar characters you know and love as well as some potential ocs. no use of y/n, reader does have a name because it’s just easier for me to write that way 🖤 ALSO- Jayce is aged down because I want him to be 😌

WC: 4.5k

TW: talk of severe mental illness and brief mention of psychiatric facilities

A/N: chapter one is officially live! if you’re just stumbling across this and haven’t checked the main info post yet please do for more info! hope you enjoy! 🖤

part I

you’re on your own, kid

Whenever most people got acceptance letters to Oxford they were ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. Somehow whenever I got mine all I felt was a sense that I had failed. It was a juxtaposition of course, it was always expected from my family that I attend the same university they had and every other generation before them had. So in a way I had done the opposite, just maybe not in the right order, and a hefty amount of rejection letters in my midst. Including the one currently being held in my shaky hand right now.

Ms. Kiramman,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript to our publication house. Unfortunately right now we are unable to offer you an opportunity for further publication.

“Please, they wouldn’t know good literature if it hit them in the face.” Caitlyn scoffed from her spot next to me as the student shuttle jostled us in our row of seats.

“Is every other publication house that denied me unable to recognize good literature as well?” I whispered from where my cheek stayed pressed to her shoulder.

I know what a lot of you were probably thinking at first glance, but Caitlyn was a good big sister. She was harsh, severely left brained, exactly everything our parents wanted in a child, and quite possibly the polar opposite of me. But in all honesty she was my best friend. My biggest supporter whenever my parents weren’t. It was her who had harassed all of those literary agents to even get me the chance to submit my works to publication houses in the first place because I was too scared to do it. And it was I who failed every single time.

“Yeah actually, they are. Honestly Mills, there’s so much trash in modern day poetry right now you might be better off.” She sighed, reaching a hand over to click my phone off slowly as the shuttle rumbled to a stop. “This is you!” She tried to plaster on a fake cheery voice with a pat on my back as if to get me to finally lift my head where my cheek was already an irritated red for being hid in her sweater.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just let Ellie and I take the extra room in that big student house you just moved into.” I huffed, lifting a hand to readjust my glasses before rising up to my feet and reaching for one of the suitcases carelessly tossed on one of the adjacent rows of seats.

“Because lovey, you need to make some of your own friends. This is uni, Millie, we’re both in completely different colleges and I just- I don’t want you to get too lonely.” She frowned, glancing back at me as she rolled the other suitcase behind her. “You guys don’t wanna room with a bunch of upperclassmen anyways.”

“I do have my own friends, I have Ellie.”

“As much as she is a great roommate, friends besides Ellie, it’s good to have more than just two whole people on campus to talk to.” Caitlyn pressed on just before striding towards the entrance, leaving me feeling like I needed to speed walk just to keep up given the fact she was nearly a foot taller as well.

The student apartments were definitely nicer than the usual underclassman dorms. In all honesty I really should’ve been grateful, it was just another luxury of being a Kiramman. Whenever your parents paid for half of the buildings on campus you usually got better accommodations. Not that either of them originally liked the idea of me even rooming with Ellie. A loudmouthed foreign exchange student from America I met during another one of those incredibly expensive wellness retreats my parents sent me on to see if they could find a ‘cure’ for what was actually just a heavy amount of autism and severe ADHD.

The only person who really seemed to understand that there wasn’t one and it was just simply who I was was Caitlyn. To a degree as much as she could at least. Sometimes though I could tell she forgot.

“I think Ellie said she beat us a while ago.” She chimed in as we approached the door decorated with a slightly chipped gold number.

“She got here early because of hockey stuff.” I answered, already bouncing on the balls of my feet to see how she had managed to make the flat into a sea of chaos already. She wasn’t exactly the cleanest person, luckily her energy seemed to mesh with mine easily enough though.

“Oh! You never mentioned she made the hockey team! I know a few girls on the team you could probably talk to.” She shot a hopeful smile back at me before lifting a fist to knock on the door.

It swung open before she could even make a second tap to reveal a frazzled looking Ellie haphazardly clutching a hockey stick. “Thank God you’re here! I was trying to practice my swing and- fuck, we are so not getting that deposit back, Millie.”

“Oh dear god.” Caitlyn cursed, already wincing in dread before stepping through the door into the messy flat. “I’m sure our dad can- do something. What did you manage to break and why on earth did you decide practicing your swing indoors was a good idea?”

“For your information I didn’t break anything! There’s just a- tiny dent in the wall.”

I hummed a bit to myself as I stepped over the plethora of unpacked bags currently covering the floor. “It’s definitely more than tiny.” I chimed in as I poked at the noticeable dent in the drywall.

Caitlyn released a long and heavy breath and shook her head, as if to try and keep herself from making her own dent in the wall. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just- say that it was there whenever you guys moved in!” She shrugged with another anxious clear of her throat as she pulled my luggage in behind her. “Which room is free, Els?”

“Oh, I gave her the room in the front. I know she likes it dark and the lighting in there sucks.” Ellie answered as she shuffled off behind us. “There is one window in there that can get pretty killer in the mornings.”

I tensed a bit at the sight of the double window facing towards the bed. Yet another one of the aggravating little quirks that came with my neurodivergency, light sensitivity. As far as I could remember I always preferred the darkest of places. And now Caitlyn was cursing again, rushing towards me to take my hands into her own as if I was already on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay- I can get you a pair of a blackout curtains asap and you know how dreary it is in Oxford anyways-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m not going to have a meltdown over a window.” I interrupted her ramble with a shake of my head. Sometimes I felt like she still thought I was that same teenage girl that didn’t have a handle on her emotions. Not that I was far from it exactly. Now I was just an almost 20 year old girl who had a slight hold on her emotions. That’s what the writing was for.

Her eyes still held the same amount of concern though, getting that same little crinkle in between her brows as she nodded. “Okay, I’m still getting you blackout curtains though.”

“They’ll definitely be appreciated.” I said with a forced tiny smile.

“Well, I really wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have a meeting with the Brooks Society and everything but… I really do hope I’ll see you both tonight at the pub for fresher’s week?” She grinned hopefully once more as she squeezed the life out of my hands.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. We’ve barely settled in and-”

“I’m down.” Ellie chimed in from behind me as she trotted back into the door frame. “I’m gonna be relishing in the fact I finally don’t need a fake.”

“Ellie…” I groaned as I shot her a glare over my shoulder.

“What? Mills, it’s the first day of fresher’s week, we might as well be committing a crime by not going out tonight!” She exclaimed with a dramatic throw of her hands in the air.

“It’s true, and as much as I would love to keep you away from my degenerate friends, well, it might be good for you.” Caitlyn agreed with another casual shrug.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice, are you?” I questioned causing her to shoot a knowing look towards Ellie over my shoulder.

“Probably not.” She answered before stealing a look down at the expensive watch wrapped around her wrist. “Well, I’ve gotta go but… you’ll text me if you need anything, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t because of what I said earlier because you always can I just-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m fine, I promise. I- I’ll see you tonight.” I stammered in hesitation, and I’d definitely be hearing about it later. But luckily right now she seemed willing to just let things go.

“Okay, good… great. Now- get in here, pipsqueak!” She exclaimed, the familiar nickname she had been calling me since she hit her growth spurt and I yet to do so making me roll my eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. One of those sisterly hugs I always clung onto a bit longer. Ever since I was younger no place had felt safer than Caitlyn. And in so many ways sometimes I looked at her as being more than a mom than our actual mom. I knew I needed to find other safe places though. “I love you, you know that right? I promise. This is going to be a good thing.”

“I love you too, Caity.” I sighed softly as I felt her lips press to the top of my head before the two of us pulled away.

“Els, take care of my baby sister or else I’ll have your head on a stick? Got it?”

“Crystal?” Ellie finally spoke up again with wide eyes as her hand made the ‘okay’ symbol.

“Good.” Caitlyn spoke before trotting back off towards the front door, “I’ll see you both tonight and send you the details.” And with a charming smile she was headed out.

Ellie instantly let out a shiver the moment the door closed. “Has anyone ever told you that your sister’s scary as fuck?”

“Many times.” I answered simply just in time to see Ellie’s face fall ever so slightly.

“So, I’m guessing it was a no from the latest publication house?”

“How could you guess?” I frowned as I slumped against the wall like I was going to resign myself to the floor.

“You had that aire of discouraged defeatism whenever you walked in.” She explained as she sidled up to me. “Cheer up, Mills, modern poetry is so cringeworthy nowadays you might be better off going for songwriting anyways.” She added as she gently rubbed at my clothed arms.

“If I can’t even get a publication house to take me seriously then what makes you think I can actually get a songwriting deal?” I spoke as I finally pushed myself off of the wall.

“One of the most popular songs out right now literally has the lyrics, ‘that’s that me, espresso’ in it.” She rolled her eyes a bit to herself as she finally knelt down to grab the bags she had still yet to unpack.

“No Sabrina Carpenter slander in this apartment, Williams. You know I’m an OG. And I can relate to desperation.” I frowned in embarrassment as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yeah yeah yeah, come and help me unpack, will you? Maybe we can find you something to wear tonight.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I exclaimed almost in mild offense as I gestured towards the outfit that definitely had been hastily picked out. But it wasn’t like it wasn’t cute- ish at least.

“Nothing, but care bear sweaters and leggings seems more like a comfy day outfit than a ‘going out to the pub’ outfit.”

“I thought it was going to be a comfy day until you completely blew my cover!”

“Sorry babe, but I agree with your scary as fuck sister on this one. You need to get out more. Experience the pleasures of fresher’s week and you can take that in any way you want!” She shot a wink over her shoulder as she made her way down the skinny hallway to kick open her own door where a brutal floor to ceiling window already angrily cast its light on the room causing me to flinch.

“We could always pretend to be girlfriends again if you want people to leave you alone in a, you know, romantic way.” Ellie added as she rushed across the room to pull the curtains shut and pat the empty space on her bed. Probably the only time it’d actually be made all semester.

“Nah, if we do that too many times people will know we’re lying so best not to even start.” I answered as I took a seat on the side of her bed.

“Well if that’s the case, how does this shirt look with… this flannel? What do you think? Chick magnet?” She grinned before whipping out a red and black checkered flannel from the mostly empty closet and pulling it on over the basic black band tee she already wore with a flourish.

“Maybe if they’re emo?” I said with a little shrug as I scanned the band logo on her t-shirt causing her to groan in defeat.

“Still… somehow… always chronically bitchless.” She voiced before plopping down on the squeaky university issued beds. Though we were at least lucky enough to have double beds, it definitely wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination if either of us decided to do any nsfw activities in them. Somehow I didn’t feel like we’d have that problem though.

“Shush, you’re not chronically bitchless. You have me!” I teased as I gave her shoulder a playful shove where she dramatically flopped onto her back.

“So bitchless then?” She reiterated with a lifted brow as she glanced over at me.

“At least you’ve actually managed to kiss a girl once or twice.” I scowled as I inched over onto my side. Already catching myself pulling closer towards her.

“Just so we’re clear, I did offer.”

“Yeah, only to get your first kiss out of the way.” I scoffed, though I curled up to her either way. Closing my eyes as I placed my head on her chest I hadn’t realized how tired I had felt in the past 24 hours. They had been rough, a sea of anxiety and those exact meltdowns that Caitlyn was afraid of me having and her not being there to talk me down from.

“And? The offer never stopped standing.” She spoke just before I could feel her arms wrapping around me.

“Good to know, Els, I’ll let you know if I ever need to get a pity kiss from my best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a pity kiss. It’s me doing you a solid.” She remarked, as she nudged my foot with her leg. “You manage to get any sleep last night?” She wondered just before letting her hands trace soothing circles on my back. I only shook my head as I felt the sting behind my eyes before I could even take any steps to stop it. The way you felt whenever you were already on the verge all day and someone finally asks if you’re okay. Curling my fingers into her flannel the annoying tears already soaked into the fabric of her shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

A shake of my head only followed, I didn’t know how to put anything into words really. How to explain to people that just wouldn’t understand no matter how much they meant well and wanted to. How was someone even supposed to explain the fact that you were one of the most celebrated families of the most prestigious university in England yet somehow you still felt like the only person who didn’t belong here sat on top of a mountain of rejection letters? Perhaps you could rather easily. But to actually say the words ‘I’m pretty sure I only got in because I’m a Kiramman’ were a whole different story. It’s why I took all those years off in the first place. I wanted to delay the inevitable of my dad paying off the admissions directors again while staring at me with the level of disappointment he never had to with Caitlyn.

I hadn’t even realized the simple tears had turned into full out sobs until I heard Ellie’s gentle shush from above me and her arms holding me even tighter to her chest as she did so. “You’re gonna be okay, Mills. I promise. We’re gonna be just fine.”

I hadn’t even noticed I had dozed off until my eyes cracked open again, noticeably faced away from the window and tucked underneath Ellie’s covers. My glasses sat propped up on her bedside dresser already casting a noticeable blur of the world around me. Meanwhile hushed voices seemed to speak from out in the hallway, walls much too thin to hide the noise.

Fighting back a yawn I shoved myself up onto my elbow to wipe at my dysfunctional eyes before stretching a hand out to pluck my glasses from the nearby table. Though I only jumped as the door was pushed open and Caitlyn’s tall figure popped up into view. “Hey pipsqueak, Ellie told me you weren’t feeling the best after I left.” She said carefully as she grabbed my glasses to hand them over.

“I wished she wouldn’t have.” I grumbled as I slid them onto my face only to hug my knees to my chest and glue my eyes to the bedsheets below.

“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what I told you to do? Mills, I would’ve stayed-”

“But- I-I don’t wanna keep you from your responsibilities anymore, Caity!” I exclaimed with a frustrated groan, already digging at my eyes again while my head only throbbed from the aftermath. “I don’t want you to have to tell this really important college society that you can’t be there for your obligations because your mentally ill sister needs you to rescue her again!”

“You are my responsibility, Amelia!” She snapped, the use of my rarely spoken full name making me wince as she pointed a stern finger at me. “You will always be my number one priority because I’m your big sister and it’s my job to protect you, no matter what. And I don’t care what kind of deep shit I get into with the criminology department, okay? Because you come first, always!”

I tried to gulp back the same pathetic tears, but it turns out after you cry yourself to sleep for the millionth time maybe there really is a limit. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?” I spoke up after a moment of silence, feeling Caitlyn’s arm stretch around my shoulder as she took the spot next to me.

“No, but I did do some thinking and if you really don’t wanna go then I don’t wanna pressure you.” She frowned, almost looking down in mild guilt until I leaned my head against her shoulder.

“No… I do. I wanna go and make friends and new experiences and- t-try to be normal.”

“Lovey, you are normal. It’s the world that isn’t.” Caitlyn frowned as she leaned her head against mine. Thankfully she only hesitated a moment though before she cleared her throat and spoke again, “If you wanna go though we should probably start getting ready. If you want me to help you?”

“Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear? And do my hair in those little braids with the clips? And help me with my eyeliner?”

Caitlyn snickered a bit as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “The eyeliner might be a little tricky but I can certainly try. Are you forgetting the prom incident where I quite literally gave you an eye infection?”

“That was definitely just because of the glitter.” I shrugged before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and finally pushing myself up to my feet.

“The eyeliner pen straight to the cornea certainly didn’t help.” She reiterated.

Despite the various complications of having two not at all femme lesbians help me get ready though, I don’t think I looked too terrible afterwards. I had settled on a simple black dress that fell just above the knee with little bows sat atop the straps. English autumns could either be comfortable or frigid though and the current temperature definitely wasn’t comfortable so Ellie tossed me one of her blue flannels to wear over top. Of course claiming it’d be a calling card for all of the hot lesbians, if they didn’t assume we were together first.

Calling the pub a ‘pub’ in an of itself was definitely generous. Besides the one or two older people having their relaxing evening out ruined by the loudmouthed 18+ filling the joint it felt more like a club than anything. Music blasted from the speakers as we stepped inside, Caitlyn on one side with a protective arm around my shoulders and Ellie on the other who looked more and more like she was never returning to America by the second.

Caitlyn immediately dragged us downstairs where most of the students had taken over. It wasn’t hard to figure out which group of friends were hers. It was the largest one, who had currently swallowed the entire center of the room it seemed filling up leather stools and couches with red decorative pillows. “Oi! Cait! Over here!” A familiar voice echoed from the large group, popping his head over everyone and waving the lot of us over.

“Jayce? I thought he finished his masters last year.” I tried to speak over the noise where Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in response.

“He did, guess the old man just can’t get enough of us.” She answered, giving my arm a comforting squeeze as she pulled me along beside her.

The group was probably the most eccentric lot I had ever seen as we approached the cluttered table. Covered in empty and full beer bottles and other fruity drinks along with half burnt out cigarettes. A spread of tarot cards belonging to a skinny girl with the longest and brightest blue hair I had ever seen was currently being scooped up as well causing my eyes to widen in curiosity. A chorus of Caitlyn’s name followed as usual, the usual life of the party whenever I wasn’t there and she didn’t have to babysit. I had almost managed to successfully tune most of the chaotic noise out though until I heard my name followed by the tightening of Caitlyn’s arm around my shoulders once more.

“Lads, this is my baby sister, Amelia. Treat her well or else I’ll kill you slowly and painfully.” She said with a little grin just as a stool was pulled out from where a pink haired individual sat manspreading on the plush couch.

“Have a seat, cupcake, we don’t bite.” The girl smirked as she sat forward almost curiously. Also an American.

“I especially mean that towards you, Vi.” Caitlyn’s expression morphed into a glare as she watched me cautiously lower myself onto the seat like it was going to give out below me any second. “Oh, and this is Ellie- Ellie Williams. Also a fresher. Ellie, Mills, this is… Jinx, Ekko, Jesse, Dina, you obviously know Jayce, Abby-”

“Bitch.” Ellie mumbled underneath her breath causing my eyes to widen for the thousandth time as she took the open seat next to me. “She totally knocked my lights out during practice today.”

“You have to have at least one light on to have them knocked out, Williams.” The muscular woman stated as she brought a glass of amber liquid up towards her mouth.

“Wow, didn’t realize hockey rivalries on the same team were a thing.” Caitlyn fought back a laugh as she went to take an empty seat of her own.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ellie grumbled a bit to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Williams? She yours?” Vi cleared her throat as she nodded in my direction.

“Who? Amelia? I-I mean I wouldn’t complain but we’re just friends.” She answered immediately causing Vi’s eyebrows to lift.

“So- no intense feelings you guys are harboring or anything?” She questioned again as she stole glances between the two of us.

“Unless there’s something she’s not telling me?” Ellie wondered with a lifted brow as she looked towards me as if in confirmation. And it was then I realized how tightly I was clutching onto her hand below the table.

It wasn’t as if the two of us hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t as if I had spent a solid number of nights in her bed whenever things got really tough. Ultimately though we had decided what we had as best friends was far too intense or precious to fuck up over a relationship. And also just the sheer fact that dating somebody you met in a psychiatric facility disguised as a ‘wellness retreat’ was probably a bad idea.

“No, just best friends.” I answered in a small voice with a simple shrug.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I buy her a drink then?”

“Careful Vi.” Caitlyn growled from her spot on the couch across from her.

“Ummm, can you buy me a song on the jukebox instead?” I asked, and to my surprise a series of impressed sentiments filled the table. My eyes only furrowed in confusion however as I peered towards Ellie or Caitlyn for help, “What?”

“Because Millie, that was smooth as fuck.“ Ellie answered almost drawing a little laugh from my end.

“Lucky for you, doll, I can buy you both.” Vi spoke as she held a bruised hand out for me to take.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any butterflies blooming in my chest at her words. The feeling of my heart kickstarting as I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me towards the bar. Her hand was warm and rough in my own, calloused but not in the way Ellie’s were from the constant plucking on her guitar. They were calloused in a far more aggressive way. I should’ve known I was heading towards my own demise in that moment. Falling down a hole I’d lose myself entirely in. An electric pull on my heartstrings that kept me close to her.

Fuck, I should’ve known it was only the start.

A/N: I AM SOOOOO EXCITED TO GET THIS UP!!!! I wanna know all your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I’m so so SO beyond excited to write more of this I’m screaming!!

Also- psa I know a ton of characters don’t talk/aren’t really in this one. I promise they will be further on! Just need to get an establishing shot first! 🖤

-> Next Part

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jamiepaige · 6 months ago

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Constant Companions Closeup #3: ROT FOR CLOUT

youtube

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

WHAT'S going on guys, welcome back to another Constant Companions Closeup, the show where we take a DEEP DIVE into what makes these tunes tick! Last episode, we went aaaaaall the way there on Not Quite There, and today, we're making that liggity-line go up up up up up with ROT FOR CLOUT featuring VISUALEYES!! Before we get started, remember to SMASH that like button, SLAM subscribe, and FUCK the bell icon. This week's community challenge: leave your credit card info in the comments! Bet you won't!

(*cough*)

---

I check my notifications way too fucking much. It's a habit I'm trying to curb, and to my credit, I am doing better lately, but being chemically predisposed to dopamine deficiencies has done a number on my ability to go five minutes without checking the funny glowing numbers on my phone. Naturally, I also very much seek more validation than I should from the opinions of strangers yadayadayada yeah that's what the song is about but none of that actually has to do with why I started writing this song in the first place.

Have you ever taken a flight with American Airlines?

This was after waking up at 4 in the morning to fly out of Houston thinking I'd be napping on a couch in Ohio by 2 pm at the latest.

I want to make one thing clear here, and that's that I made this bed for myself. Tucked the sheets in and all. You see, on the rare occasions I fly, I normally take Southwest. Southwest does not overbook flights like a lot of other airlines do, so it's a practice I am mostly unfamiliar with. So, when I received a notification on my phone promising genuinely ridiculous amounts of flight credit money in exchange for taking a slightly later flight, I thought - well, shit! That sounds nice!

This is how they trick you. I didn't really realize I'd been tricked until I was on my second flight of the day, sitting in a middle seat at the very back of the plane, heading from Dallas, a city I don't live in, to Washington, DC, a city I was not trying to get to, staring down the barrel of another flight I was destined to get on that had been delayed like two fucking hours.

I became the Joker. All I could do to remain sane was write a song about it. This is how ROT FOR CLOUT came to be.

I guess the moral of the story is this: Don't go to Ohio. And to answer your question,

Yes I am

Not really

---

This is a complete sidenote but I want to mention it here: I'm genuinely overjoyed at the amount of people excitedly talking about my songwriting or the intention behind my lyrics. For a long time, it really felt like lyricism was the last thing people cared about from me, while it was always the thing I wanted to take pride in the most... So genuinely, thank you everyone for caring!! Every single fire emoji people have put next to a line I've written has extended my lifespan by multiple years

There's a brief little moment where the song's chords leave the key, doing a really stereotypically jazzy 2-5 movement, and it's one of my favorite parts of the entire song. I'm not really a music theory buff or anything, and I'm certainly not formally trained, but I've always been very passionate about more complicated harmony in otherwise poppy and accessible contexts - bo en's album pale machine really rewrote my brain when I first heard it.

On that note, there are microtones in the vocal melody - During the chorus, some of the rapidly repeated words move up in quarter tones! Possibly the simplest way I could've included microtonality, but I'm genuinely afraid if I learn more than what I already know about it I'll be lost to the darkness.

Obviously, the work of Sasuke Haraguchi was a massive influence on this song, particularly the song Igaku. I think basically everyone on the entire planet has picked up on that at this point, but I do also wanna point out some other songs that were on my mind at the time! (two for three on these posts mentioning louis cole now)

I'd also like to take a moment to spotlight the vocal samples on this! They previously appeared on エビチャーハン!, and they've honestly become some of my favorite samples to throw in things. They're also just a fucking goldmine sincerely

Finally, HUGE thanks to Visualeyes for the delightful synth solo on this!! I had put out a call on Twitter looking for instrumentalists, genuinely originally envisioning a super jazzy piano solo, but their synth playing genuinely brought the whole song together perfectly!

That's about it for this song - though again, if there are any more questions people have, I'd be happy to answer them in the replies to this post or elsewhere!! (*ahem*) THAT'S gonna do it for today's video, folks! Feel free to leave a like, comment, hit the subscribe button for more and click the bell so you don't miss any new videos. Tomorrow? I Wish That I Could Fall. it hurts.

#music #jamie paige #bandcamp #constant companions #behind da scenes #Youtube

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starkidmunson · 1 year ago

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glitter & crimson

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?”

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything?

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him.

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game.

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face.

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes.

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks.

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile.

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh.

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him.

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin.

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs.

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance.

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him.

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s�� a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one.

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.”

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip.

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

#steddie #steddie hockey au #steddie rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #stranger things #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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dollwhite · 1 month ago

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𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

P.s all works made by me, will be under the tag ‘dollings work’

ALSO my new theme for my blog is Blood rose <3 my blog will be changed on the first. If u were wondering?

Ik this doesn’t scream blood rose buttt close enough!!

I imagine posison ivy is like 30-35

Something you didn’t expect was your close friend poison ivy to call you. You two were very close even with her being 34 and you being 24.

A ten year age difference didn’t seem like a lot, and in reality it wasn’t.

As you answered the call, it felt like something was wrong. It HAD to be ivy, I mean you don’t really have many “close” friends. And you and your family were close but you guys didn’t just call each other on a regular. Unless it’s an emergency like a death in the family.

Plus you come from a small town on like the other side of the world. Your home town basically doesn’t have internet.

“Hello?..” you say the words flowing softly out of your lips.

“[ reader ] heyyy.. you know how about a month age, I did that big favor for you? And u said ‘ Oh Ivy I owe you big time!’” Your friend Ivy said her words coming out a little bit slowed which was a bit weird as she’s a normally fast speaker.

“Hiah..” a little chuckle came from over the phone, you could tell the person was a woman and that she was maybe over a feet away from Ivy. That was also strange Ivy only had a hand full of friends that she could count on one hand.

Now Red Robin was back in the batcave, and he was getting scolded.. All because he decided to check up in that stranger, he gets it he really does but.

Being grounded from patrol, In a huge villain attack?? What is Bruce thinking? It’s obvious he needs all the help he can get. He already has Superman on standby, maybe he also has the justice league?

Who knows.. who knows.

Now time for Tim to get looking for some info on this new stranger. It’s clear she just moved to Gotham, maybe a few weeks back? But that doesn’t matter because he’s going to find out.

Everything.

“Just like the seedd, I don’t know where to go.” A beautiful woman’s voice echoed across the room.

Startling Harley, “now what in the heck was that!”

“That my dear Harley, was my friend.” Poison ivy said. “Now come on, we have to hurry” she added.

Grabbing Harley by her hand, leading her to the cafeteria exit.

“I——what about the guards?” Now don’t get Harley confused, she loved going by the flow.

But Ivy was more of a ‘think now, do later’ type of person. And also she has other friends??

Why didn’t Harley know about her, or-them. Hey! Harley doesn’t judge, if you wanna be called a guy.

But if you look like a girl, she’s going to call you a guy!

“Through dirt and shadow, I grow. Just like the seed”

As they both were passing through the exit, Harley took notice of this weird acting guard.

Matter of fact, all the guards in the cafeteria were acting weird, and the other inmates as well.

Like they’re under some sort of trance? But whatever it was, she didn’t care as long as she gets to lease to your voice she’s good!

……………………………………………………………………

Yeah yeah ik, i have been gone for like what? A month at least. And I can’t promise you guys that I’m going to be posting more often, because we’ll school has fucking kicked the shit out of me, and I had a very difficult situation with two of my close friends. So in all life has been shity to me, this is an old drift I never got around to post, and I’m pretty sure you guys can tell. Cuz it’s low-key trash, because when I made this I was like what half a month of getting into writing. Also I have been spending my time in the hotd fandom! (My favorite characters are the Hightower siblings!) and I might try and writ for hotd, because it’s just interesting to me yk?

But I’m here to say that…. Idk when I’m going to be able to get my ass to write something for you guys! And I hope that you all don’t mind that, I’m also going to try and finish my drifts. Also ao3 has got my heart at the moment(no because there’s so much love for Alicent Hightower there🤭)

See you guys maybe never again! But um y’all known what y’all were going to be getting into when you fucking followed me! And I haven’t been that interested in the batfam, so I might not continue any of my stories on them…..

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markantonys · 1 month ago

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3x06 thoughts! full-series book spoilers

cold open: i didn't realize how much i've been missing ishy until he showed up and i cheered! he was a gentle soul. if/when ishy is resurrected, i'm definitely hoping they'll keep fares fares rather than recast because he is just so wonderful, and then just not do the whole rand bodyswap thing at the end so that we get to see josha portraying rand's final moments in the show, as he and we deserve (though since min's Stabbening viewing does seem to imply that that wound will kill rand's body, i don't know. but there's a lot of ways they could handle the whole situation and it's a long way off, so i won't bother speculating now!)

the liandrin flashback was definitely heartbreaking, but on the other hand, i don't know if it really provided any new info that we didn't already know or couldn't have guessed about her backstory (since they've already told and shown us a LOT about her backstory at this point, we didn't really need every single remaining blank filled in, although it IS very interesting to see that she was snatched by ishy while so young before she even went to the tower!), so personally i think i could've done without it and used the time for something else. but since liandrin returning to her hometown is a book plot point anyway, might as well take the opportunity to flesh out her backstory (plus this scene also showed us the male a'dam statue, which helped us later), and i feel fairly confident that she'll die in ep8 since she's getting all this spotlight.

continuing on the tanchico thread, fun times were had this episode! i loved all the scenes of everybody dicking around in the city, although since there were so many shenanigans, i do feel like we didn't get quite as much forward plot movement in tanchico as i'd expected from their A-plot episode. but then, there isn't really that much that actually needs to be done in tanchico besides moggy encounters (check) and the museum showdown (set up thanks to info learned in this episode), so this plotline was always going to get the shorter end of the stick in terms of Exciting Plot Events compared to the waste & two rivers storylines which do have quite a few big events to cover this season, and therefore it does have time to have some breathing room and scenes of characters just having a good time. it is a good counterbalance to the heavy stuff going on elsewhere!

thom returns, and he and mat talk about rand, just as i'd hoped! and we hear that thom was morgase's court bard for a while and recognizes elayne, though no details yet on what type of a role he might have had in the family's personal lives. mat going "WOO!!! THAT'S MY FRIEND!!!!" when elayne was performing was SO cute oh my god <333 they were a cute little chaos duo this episode, but it was mostly just them doing stuff individually in the same location as each other rather than them having proper interactions with each other (contrast to nynaeve & min getting some good solo chats over on their side of the story), which i was a bit disappointed about since my main consolation prize for removing mat from the waste and losing cauthor interactions was getting to have matlayne interactions over in tanchico, and that's ended up not really happening. but i'll have to hope for bigger matlayne interactions in a future season should their paths cross again!

elayne and min also didn't really interact once again this episode, so yeah, i'm feeling pretty confident now that min is out of the polycule. but we'll see!

nynaeve letting loose and having a good time for once in her life haha bless her <3 and min telling that guy she foresaw he was going to marry jeaine in order to get info out of him when what she actually saw was that he is going to be killed be jeaine - very therapeutic for me who constantly wondered "why doesn't book!min ever even CONSIDER lying about a viewing in order to be able to use people's ironclad belief in her abilities for strategic advantage?" the show is doing a really great job at giving her more agency and showing her figure out how to use her abilities as a tool rather than having her be a powerless vehicle for prophecies, the way the books usually used her.

Mat's Admirer 100% wanted to fuck him, but unclear if mat was interested or even aware of this since he only cared about using the guy for info (though hey, when he comes back right at the end and grab's mat's hand to get his attention, mat did have kind of a "listen i am 100% DTF but unfortunately i'm busy right now" reaction in my opinion haha). i will claim minor cauthor rights in mat saying he was looking for a pretty necklace for a big strong man djfkgjh

the moggy-nynaeve-elayne scene was SO good!!!! 10/10 no notes!! zoe and ceara's acting was incredible here, especially zoe during the moment where nynaeve's brain manages to put up some subconscious resistance despite her still being smiley and docile on the exterior. all the setup earlier in the season of seeing what compulsion weaves look like from nyomi and hearing how drastically they can alter people's behavior when a forsaken-level channeler uses them did a good job making sure the audience would understand what was going on when moggy hits the girls with it here. and the beginnings of moggy's beef with nynaeve are established - she's shocked and pissed and intrigued that nynaeve was able to briefly resist her compulsion!

i'm left feeling that mat hasn't really had much more to do in tanchico than he would've in the waste, so i'm maintaining my guess that removing mat from the waste was more about making space for rand's story to focus on egwene/moiraine/lanfear than it was about creating a better story for mat. he kiiiiiiiinda hasn't done shit all season besides tick off a couple fanservice moments and there's only 1 episode left (though it should be a good one for him given his doorway appointment). haha, i also think that i differ from a lot of book-show fans in that i like mat the most and find him the most compelling when he's being angsty and pathetic, so the harder they lean on him as comic relief, the further he slips away from me even as most other readers are gushing about how he finally feels like himself. (and this is probably a place where my show-first origin shows, because my very first meeting with mat was his s1 version which i found deeply emotionally compelling, whereas a ton of book-first viewers didn't like s1 mat and thought he felt totally off from his book characterization. and it's not about the actors for me because i know donal can nail the emotionally compelling and deeper/angstier side of mat when given the chance! he just hasn't been given many chances for it this season compared to last season when mat was such a sad wet cat. but if we get s4, it should be mat's time to have focus, and rafe & co have always shown an incredible understanding of the true depth of mat's character despite s3 not having a ton of time for him to shine, so i'm really looking forward to an s4 that he has the spotlight in.)

switching gears to the two rivers. not much to say about it from me, but i enjoyed all the scenes! bode & eldrin healing alanna was very sweet - it looks like they're both channelers in the show rather than just bode, which is a neat change. i really really really hope we'll get to see them reunite with mat next season so that mat can catch up on all his family news!

perrin and faile's scenes were so good! in order to make their romance believable, we definitely really needed to spend some time with just the two of them talking about serious emotional stuff and bonding, so i'm very glad that this episode delivered on that front. the romance is still a little more rushed than i would like, but since i also felt that way with lanaeve in s1 and avilayne in 3x01, i just have to accept that this is the way the show does things haha and perrin/faile is the smallest offender of the 3 since it was just a very brief kiss that got interrupted, and i'm sure they'll have even more emotional bonding during the big episode next week before taking their relationship to a deeper level. and regardless, their dynamic is SO much better than it was at this point in the books!

super angsty change to faile's backstory, but it's a great way of telling us what kind of a person she is as well as giving insight into her upbringing (honestly, i might've found seeing this scene play out onscreen a more valuable Supporting Character Origin Story than liandrin's haha although faile telling perrin about it in detail was important for their relationship and that would've felt repetitive if the audience had already witnessed it firsthand). since her dad wasn't involved in the story about her mom and brother, it's a bit open-ended as to whether he survived that incident and whether he knows that his wife is a darkfriend and killed their son, so the door is open for him to arrive as an onscreen character in a future season but it's not SO wide open that he HAS to arrive. it feels flexible to me atm!

i was also really glad to see perrin tell faile about what happened with laila, and to see her offer him some understanding and reassurance. so far, these two are doing an amazing job at honesty and communication! well done team! i will be so intrigued to see how the laila trauma may or may not affect their relationship as it gets more serious (for example, i think we're all expecting it to be part of the reason why perrin gets so frantic and single-minded when faile is kidnapped).

moving over to the waste. rand & avi with alsera was soooooo sweet, i was melting! this scene served several good functions: it shows rand's good heart, it shows avi witnessing and feeling fond over rand's good heart, it shows rand's genuine willingness to learn about and engage with aiel culture, it shows avi witnessing his genuine willingness, and of course, it makes alsera's death at the end of the episode an even bigger gutpunch and really grounds us in rand's feelings during that moment (more on this scene later). if ep8 shows rand tending to the squash garden as he promised to do to meet his toh, i will never recover!

egwene learns some more about dream powers, and rand and moiraine finally talk after rhuidean, though moiraine still doesn't tell him about her alliance with lanfear. so once again, we have moiraine aware that lanfear is going to send trouble the group's way and choosing not to do anything about it, and this time casualties ensue, though unlike last time, moiraine didn't actually know what lanfear was planning, just that she was "sending a surprise". and i loved their convo about the power and rand suggesting that saidar and saidin might not have to be as different as Accepted Wisdom says!

the randgwene breakup FINALLY happened, but boy did they drag it out til the last possible second. i was fine with them wanting to spend more time on the breakup than the books did, but i'm not fine with it being an entire season-long arc that probably won't be fully emotionally resolved until 3x08 (if even then!) because the result is that both rand and egwene are, in some respects, lagging a full book behind in emotional development compared to where they should be at this stage of the story, and they are going to have to really play catchup next season. if we spent a WHOLE SEASON on the randgwene breakup, a good chunk of which was kinda showing that it's maybe not feasible or not a good idea for the dragon reborn to have a love life, how on earth are we going to convince the audience that rand should immediately bounce back and start dating elayne and avi next season? rand starting to dive into new romance only a few episodes after an extremely-emotionally-fraught breakup was finalized just feels like weird pacing, but hopefully the IRL time passage between s3&s4 would help it feel more organic for the audience. still, i just don't get why the show decided that the breakdown of randgwene needed 3 seasons but all the *endgame* romances can be introduced and canonized within a single season each time, and i'm not sure it's a decision i'll ever agree with even after seeing how everything turns out.

as for the actual content of the breakup convo, it felt to me like they were trying to do a "both sides have points" but it is very hard to make that feel balanced in the audience's eyes when one side's point is "you cheated on me with the most evil being in the universe" and the other side's point is "well you don't pay enough attention to me because you're always busy with your career". i don't think rand was TRYING to blame egwene or say "you pushed me towards lanfear by ignoring me", but it is very very easy to interpret it that way and interpret rand's side of things uncharitably based on the dialogue that's had. i do sympathize with both of them, as do other viewers who already loved rand, but for anyone who felt ambivalent or worse towards rand prior to the breakup, i'd imagine he's sunk even lower in their opinion because it is too uncomfortably close to real-world shit to hear a man express feeling neglected over his girlfriend not treating him as her #1 priority at all times (then again, people who already didn't care about rand continuing to not care about him isn't exactly a net loss). i mean, this was randgwene's issue back in s1 too so it's not anything new or out-of-left-field, but i wish rand's side of the conversation had leaned more on "you're obviously afraid of me going mad and you obviously don't trust me, and this makes me feel hurt and isolated and unsupported" - which, yes, i do think IS the main point he's trying to make, but they obfuscated it by having him latch onto "you keep choosing other priorities over me" as his initial grievance and that really doesn't make him look very sympathetic.

it's also a strange route to take somebody who is destined for a) a poly relationship and b) a poly relationship with two extremely duty-bound people. elayne & avi are going to present the same thing of having duties that are more important than their personal relationships and of not being able to treat rand as #1, so why have that be a noted point of romantic unfulfillment for him in his relationship with egwene? how are we going to convince the audience that rand is happy in a poly situation where his partners have other partners, after we've seen him express sorrow that he by himself isn't "enough" for egwene? again, feeling unfulfilled by getting the sense that you're low on your partner's priority list is 100% valid and reasonable, but it just doesn't strike me as something that suits rand's character in particular. but they had to take this angle with randgwene because they had to sell the idea that rand falls into lanfear's clutches because She's The Only One Who Understands Him.

i think if they'd instead done more throughout the season with egwene obviously being afraid of rand's mental state and rand obviously noticing her being afraid, and THAT is what makes him feel the most hurt with egwene and makes him more susceptible to lanfear's claims that she's the only one who accepts the dark parts of him, that would've worked much better for me in creating a balanced conflict between the two of them (because it's sympathetic that rand is hurt by this, but it's also sympathetic that egwene is afraid). that stuff IS there, but it didn't feel as prominent as the "i'm not enough for you and this makes me sad" angle, at least in the most recent randgwene scenes (perhaps because whenever the audience sees or hears about egwene's fear of rand, he is often not privy to it or she does a pretty good job hiding it from him; the only time i can remember him being aware that she's afraid of him is in 3x01 after the bubble of evil and also earlier when he assumed correctly that he'd terrorized her during her accepted test visions in some capacity).

but! this is all based purely off my own initial gut emotional reaction to the breakup convo. as it was playing out, i was thinking to myself "ugh, this isn't how i'd hoped it would go down at all, they're making rand look like a piece of shit" and i can't pretend that wasn't how i was feeling, but i definitely need to rewatch once the season is done and get a more careful look at what is actually said between them, and maybe i'll feel better about it then, especially since i'll be rewatching having seen the full conversation and knowing it ends up going in a better direction by the end of it even if it starts really messy AND having seen ep8 and knowing the final conclusion and emotional note randgwene is left on for the season.

speaking of that better direction, things i liked about the breakup convo: 1) rand ultimately says that egwene wanting More Than This Provincial Life is the very thing he respects about her, so that wins him some points back and reduces the "asshole who hates that his GF cares about things besides him" vibes*. 2) they make it very clear that rand had no CLUE lanfear's been torturing egwene and that he is extremely upset to find out about this (upset on egwene's behalf and realizing that lanfear is a lying liar who lies), so that's really good news! bit of a bummer we didn't have time to deal with the fallout of that this week and have to keep waiting (now TWO more weeks!), but definitely understandable that they want to save it for the big blowout between lanfear and the waste gang during the finale.

(*again, *i* didn't think of rand as this kind of asshole, it just strikes me that it would be REALLY easy for a lot of other people to think so based on watching that scene. ultimately, it comes down to, i don't think the show has done as well at making rand's feelings and his side of things clear to the audience as egwene's. it feels like it's much easier to see through her eyes than his on the situation. it feels like her perspective is much more intuitive and obvious at face-value than rand's, which requires some psychoanalyzing to understand. it feels like, if this were a book, the majority of randgwene's scenes this season would be written in egwene POV rather than rand POV.)

now moving on to the battle. first of all, sammael is obviously not dead and i'm gobsmacked that quite a few READERS think he is lmao (show-onlys being unsure i can totally forgive) of course they wouldn't have gone to the trouble of including sammael in the show only to give him 2 scenes and kill him immediately! this isn't the books where there's 13 forsaken and RJ can afford to blow through some of them in a few paragraphs, we only have 8 and we need to make them count! the show established clearly how hard it is to permanently kill a forsaken, ain't no way dropping a building on sammael was enough to take him out! i truly cannot believe that any readers actually think he's gone and will never be seen again!

he is credited for ep8, and currently he's unconscious and in rand's clutches. will we see him as rand's captive in ep8? that would track with the alleged audition script. could this lead into sammael taking asmo's role of being rand's captive teacher in s4? very possible, but also possible he manages to escape from rand in ep8 and goes on to be a menace in a wetlander city in s4. still, with the notable change that sammael is the weakest forsaken in showverse, that does make me lean towards him absorbing asmo (who is the weakest forsaken in bookverse) as being an easy target for rand to be able to keep as a captive long-term, even if a lot of readers get furious when anyone suggests asmo being cut haha we shall see!

avi busting in to save rand's life 🥰🥰🥰 (and egwene's too of course) and our first sight of her channeling! very exciting! i loooooove how much attention the show pays to giving channelers individualized styles: avi channels magic spears because that's the fight style she's previously been accustomed to. sammael channels with a giant hammer because he has a napoleon complex and is overcompensating for being the weakest forsaken.

and on that note, rand standing there decimating the entire building completely effortlessly, without even LOOKING at it, with his back to it as he's destroying it - stunning, gorgeous, i got chills. sammael getting his ass completely wrecked by rand while rand isn't even bothering to look at him would piss him off SO much and that delights me djfkgjh

and then the scene with alsera. oh my god!!!!!! this is the best scene of the entire season so far, for me. this is a better rand character moment than anything in 3x04 for me (don't get me wrong, 3x04 is a good episode, but as i mentioned at the time, it didn't feel like it was particularly about *rand* so much as it was about worldbuilding & lore & the aiel in general, so this scene with alsera was exactly the kind of impactful rand-specific scene i wanted). josha's performance just blew me away, it was absolutely phenomenal, and i've always thought he was doing great with rand but this was the moment where i really went "oh, yeah, he's going to NAIL late-series rand".

and i really liked that this happened in front of all the other main characters of this plotline, that they all bore witness to this huge moment of rand's emotional arc. moiraine stepping in to try and anchor him got me in the heart! i'm really craving a rand-avi scene in ep8 where they talk a bit about what happened; avi was the main person who witnessed rand's relationship with alsera, so she would make a lot of narrative sense as the person who talks with him about it afterwards, plus if we could maybe hear some of her feelings on rand's unhinged moment, it could help prod us a little bit closer to seeing why avirandlayne is a better fit than randgwene (or randfear). they've set up that egwene fears the dark parts of him and that lanfear revels in them, so it would be nice to see avi & elayne taking a middle ground of seeing and understanding and being prepared to handle the dark parts of him the way egwene can't while still firmly holding him to high moral standards and refusing to Make Him Worse the way lanfear wants to. i don't know, i could imagine ep8 having rand feel awful about losing control and scaring everyone, but avi approaches him and lets him know that she's not afraid of him while also encouraging him to work on improving his self-control. but a scene like this might be too much to hope for considering there's only 1 episode left for the non-perrin plotlines and so much to cover! even if it doesn't happen, it makes me happy to know that avi saw him at such a low moment and still will choose to love him and be with him.

on that note, i believe next week will be solely the two rivers plotline. nice to give the big battle its own devoted episode (i'm thinking happily of ROP 1x06 with the dedicated southlands battle episode, which i think is still my favorite episode of all of ROP so far), but boy is it going to be tough to wait 2 weeks to check back in with the waste plotline! another downside of dragging the randgwene stuff out so long and making it sooooooo messy and High Drama is that it feels like they've set up more than they'll be able to satisfactorily resolve in only one more episode, especially given how much other stuff needs to happen in ep8, but we'll see!

#wot #wot show spoilers #wot book spoilers

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cripplecharacters · 2 months ago

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Hello! I hope you guys are having a good day :) [Smiley face]

I'm writing a story and one of the main characters has CPTSD, and I had a few questions about it. I think I might have CPTSD but I'm not able to get evaluated right now.

I know you say we can do whatever we want when writing about our own conditions, but since I'm not actually diagnosed I wanted to double check things.

Relevent character info: She's been in therapy on-and-off for about 5 years (she had a therapist, stopped seeing him because she moved, and then started seeing a new one) and her trauma revolves around being abused/neglected as a child, witnessing violence, and having assassins sent after her.

Question 1

If she's been in therapy for a years and has a very good therapist, would it make sense that she's able to better deal with stressful/traumatic situations when they come up? Like, being more "resiliant" to being triggered I guess?

For example, she ends up having to work with a group of people, and initially she worries that they might be assassins that were sent after her, but she later realizes that they're not.

Would it make sense for her to not be as hypervigilant/wary around them after realizing this, and more willing to get to know them, and slowly sharing more information about herself as time goes on? Especially if they're also telling her about their past and showing her that she can trust them?

I know that trauma and triggers aren't exactly "logical" sometimes (like being scared of something even though you know it's harmless) so I don't want it to come off as "Well she was scared but then she realized she was being silly so now she's fine lol!"

Should I maybe have her mention to one of them something like "Yeah if I met you guys years ago I would have refused to trust any of you, but therapy really helped me with my issues"?

Question 2

This is sort of related to question one.

I've read that one big thing that determines whether or not someone is traumatized by something/develops PTSD is whether or not they recieve adequate support after the traumatizing event.

So for example, if someone is in a car accident and then they recieve a lot of support from friends/family/therapists, they'll be less likely to develop PTSD VS someone who is in a car accident and then given no support.

In the story, there's a lot of bad things going on. But this time, instead of only having one or two friends to help comfort her, she has a very good therapist and large support network who are there for her.

Would this help prevent her from being further traumatized or making her symptoms worse?

Question 4

Is there a specific order in which symptoms get "fixed"? Like for example, if someone has nightmares, flashbacks, and hypervigilance, would it be possible that their nightmares and flashbacks are less of a problem after treatment, but they're still hypervigilant?

She generally doesn't have issues with nightmares or flashbacks unless extremely stressed or triggered by something specific, but she still has emotional regulation issues (quick to fly off the handle and get mad) and she's quite wary and hypervigilant, especially around people she's doesn't know.

I just wanted to make sure that that behavior makes sense.

She used to be very quiet and people please-y but after therapy she started standing up for herself more, and now she sort of went in the other direction. So instead of just taking everything quietly, she's quick to speak her mind and she's not afraid to defend herself.

Question 5

During the story, she ends up falling in love with one of the people she had to work with, and they start dating about a month after meeting.

I don't want to fall into the "The power of love cures mental illness and now they're all better" trope, so I want to make sure that I show her having occasional symptoms even though she's been doing really well in therapy.

I know it's kind of hard to say since healing doesn't really work on a scale of "0% healed, having a bad time" to "100% healed, no symptoms" but for someone who's been in therapy for years, how often would she still experience symptoms, and what would they be?

I was thinking of showing that she's mostly okay, but still having the occasional nightmare, intrusive thought, flashback, etc.

Hello!

Before I get into the specific questions you have, I just want to give a general disclaimer about PTSD/C-PTSD.

Trauma and trauma disorders are very complex and vary greatly from person to person. The diagnoses for both PTSD and C-PTSD are fairly new (PTSD was only added to the DSM in 1980 and C-PTSD has not yet been added) and the effect that trauma has on the brain is still yet to be fully understood.

I'm speaking from both my own experiences and my own knowledge on the topic as well as some additional research to ensure my information is up-to-date.

Throughout the post, I do mostly refer to PTSD instead of C-PTSD. This is because C-PTSD is generally considered to be a sub-type of PTSD so what I'm describing will generally apply to both. Though there are differences between C-PTSD and PTSD, there isn't exactly a single, commonly agreed upon list of them.

In general, C-PTSD is believed to stem from long-term, repeated/chronic trauma (especially when the brain is still developing) while PTSD comes from a singular event or several separate events. Of course, because C-PTSD isn't in the DSM yet, there are many people who have been diagnosed with PTSD but may better fit the label of C-PTSD.

Personally, I was diagnosed with PTSD as well as a several other trauma-based/trauma-related disorders. My psychologist believes that C-PTSD would be more fitting for what I'm experiencing but, because it's not commonly used in my area, deferred to PTSD.

Interestingly enough, C-PTSD is often mistakenly called "childhood PTSD" because it's most frequently seen in victims of childhood abuse/trauma.

Question 1

Although it doesn't work for everyone, having a good therapist and attending therapy sessions regularly can certainly have a positive effect on trauma and PTSD in general.

Some of the main things that therapists can do include:

Helping your character to recognize when they are becoming triggered.

Helping your character to pinpoint some of the situations that may trigger them.

Working with your character to develop strategies for dealing with their triggers and the feelings that they bring up.

Working with your character to open up about and process their trauma.

Being a safe person to vent to.

Helping your character to navigate difficult situations that arise and helping them to separate their rational thoughts/beliefs on the situation from their initial, trauma-based responses*.

*As an example: A character with trauma from an abusive relationship has a big fight with their new partner. Their first instinct might be to pack their things and leave before their partner gets the chance to hurt them. A therapist can help them recognize that their current partner has never behaved aggressively towards them and identify the ways that this situation is different from their past relationship (They have a stronger support system, they're in therapy, they live in a place with different views on abuse, etc.). With trauma, the past and present often end up blurred -- especially when the present starts to mirror the past -- and it can be difficult to separate the two without help. A therapist can provide this help.

While these things may not make your character immune or even more resilient to being triggered, they can help your character manage it and navigate the situation when it does happen.

Considering the example you gave, I think it could work but there are some other things to consider here:

Why does she originally suspect them of being assassins? Is this something that she suspects all new people of or did they do something specific to trigger the belief? For example, maybe the assassins she encountered tried to poison her and the new people keep offering her food.

How long does it take her to realize that they aren't assassins? What kind of thought process does she go through during this time? Did she speak with her therapist during this time? What does her therapist have to say about it?

What made her realize they aren't assassins? Was it something logical (For example: She uncovers information that proves they aren't assassins) or is it more emotional in nature (For example: She makes a connection with them/bonds with them and starts to trust them)? Are her doubts completely assuaged with this or is she still a bit suspicious in the back of her mind -- even sub-consciously?

It would make sense for her to grow more trusting and open with them as time goes on but, from a PTSD standpoint, trust alone doesn't really have much of an effect on hypervigilance.

Being wary and being hypervigilant are two very different things. The way I usually describe it to people is that wariness is more conscious -- hypervigilance isn't. Even when I'm with somebody I trust, I'll still flinch when they come up behind me unexpectedly -- even if I know it's them. It's a physical response, not something that I can necessarily turn off.

Although your character's wariness may be assuaged, their hypervigilance wouldn't necessarily be something that is eased by trust.

While I do think that having her mention her therapy journey is a good idea (especially considering the fact that there's still a stigma around therapy), I wouldn't rely on it to get your point across about her trauma and trust issues not being an immediate fix.

Instead, I'd encourage you to show how it's a longer process:

Maybe she still has some lingering suspicions/doubts about them on a sub-conscious level and has to mentally talk herself out of them ("You've known these people a long time. They're making coffee for everyone, not just you so the likelihood that they're trying to poison you specifically is low."). While trauma isn't necessarily logical, using logic against these kinds of thoughts can be helpful.

Maybe she still has a physical reaction to something that triggers her. For example, she goes into the kitchen and one of her new coworkers turns around with a knife in their hand from where they'd been cutting food and she stumbles back/gasps because she isn't prepared for it. Not every trigger has to result in a major flashback -- being triggered can just look like your body going "wait a second, I've been in this situation before and it's not safe. Let's take a few steps back until we know it's safe".

If the story is in first person, I'd encourage you to explore her thoughts on the new people, both at the beginning when she distrusts them and later on when she begins to trust them more.

You could also show how she uses some of the tools she's learned in therapy such as self-regulation techniques like grounding exercises or controlled breathing or even just recognizing when she's getting triggered and doing something about it. Depending on what kind of person she is, this could look like her making an excuse to be alone for a moment ("I'm just going to run to the washroom quickly.") or speaking up about her situation ("Just... give me a minute, okay?" or "Wait. I need a second.").

I'd advise against having her explicitly state what is happening ("I'm getting triggered right now." or "I'm starting to have a panic attack.") for a few reasons:

The first being that -- for the most part -- people don't naturally speak like that, especially not when they're already stressed out. A lot of the time, it's not always evident what exactly is happening. The beginning of a panic attack can feel a lot like a spike of anxiety or an increase in hypervigilance.

The other big thing is that words like "triggered", "panic attack", and other mental health-related terms have a history of misuse behind them (Ex: People using "triggered" to mean offended, people using "OCD" to mean neat/organized, etc.). As a result, you run the risk of giving your readers the wrong impression when using them in this context -- especially in dialogue.

One other thing I'll mention is to keep in mind that changing therapists can be very stressful and set your character back a few steps, especially since they have to build that relationship with their therapist again. Keep that in mind when you consider the timeline for these events. If she has just changed therapists, she may not be comfortable enough approaching them about this yet.

Question 2

We don't yet know what specifically causes somebody to develop PTSD. In a broad sense, it's a traumatic event but there are so many different factors at play that can determine whether or not somebody is traumatized, develops PTSD, or develops another trauma-based disorder.

You are right that the level of support somebody gets after a traumatic incident can have an impact -- but there are so many other factors too such as:

The event itself including the duration, the type of incident, their involvement in it (as a witness, a victim, a rescuer, etc.), etc.

Their age and brain development. A child who witnessed somebody's death but was too young to really understand what was happening would have a vastly different experience than an adult who was fully aware of it. Something to keep in mind, however, is that while children were generally considered to be more resilient to trauma than adults, that isn't necessarily true*.

The specific individual -- including their personality, resilience, past experiences/history, pre-existing disabilities and other conditions, etc.

Their experiences during the trauma. There's a common misconception that people develop PTSD only when they don't believe help is coming (for example, being stuck in a car accident in the middle of nowhere). This isn't exactly true but it can have an effect.

Now, on to your actual question: That depends.

Along with the factors mentioned above, their current situation should also be considered. If they're on a series of busy missions and don't have the time to actually process their trauma, they'll have a harder time with healing than they would if they were able to take it easy and process things at their own pace.

While her therapist and support system can absolutely help her manage the more recent trauma, her past experiences in therapy and the skills/tools she's learned can also benefit her -- both in the traumatic moment and after the fact.

In short: Yes, it could make sense that she's more resilient to this new experience than she was to her original trauma.

*There's a great book by Bruce Perry (the child psychologist) that talks about this. It's called The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog and it's a heavy read but a good one.

Question 4

Something that's important to remember about PTSD and C-PTSD is that the trauma can never be fully "fixed" or healed.

Trauma -- especially complex and long-term trauma -- has lasting effects on a person's brain. It changes the way we think, the way we approach new situations, the way we deal with stress. Some types of trauma can even have an impact on the way our kid's brains develop [Link].

While therapies, medication, and support can make a difference and cause symptoms to lessen (or disappear entirely), the trauma will still have lasting effects.

In terms of the order that symptoms get resolved, this is something that varies so greatly from person-to-person that I can't give you an actual answer.

The other thing is that healing from anything (especially something as messy and complex as trauma) isn't as straightforward as it seems. Even with the proper treatment, symptoms don't just decrease steadily or in order.

You may have heard the phrase "progress isn't linear" before. This is very applicable to PTSD and C-PTSD. There will always be setbacks or stumbles or relapses. You can go for years without having a flashback or nightmare and then one day be triggered enough for it to happen. You're still healing, it's just not a straight path.

In your character's case, it could absolutely make sense for her symptoms to lessen at different rates. That said, I'd be wary about portraying it as a straightforward path.

Although recovery is complicated and it's normal to relapse/stumble/have a setback, it's frequently portrayed as a straightforward path and characters rarely experience these setbacks -- which is very discouraging when you're actually recovering from trauma.

Question 5

You might be getting sick of me saying this by now but: ✨it depends!✨

The experience you described (with her occasional nightmares/flashbacks/etc.) is one possibility but it's definitely not the only one.

Somebody can be in therapy for just as long and still experience the same amount of symptoms they did when they first started. Likewise, somebody can have that same experience (with the occasional nightmares/flashbacks/etc.) after only being in therapy for a couple months.

It is important to remember that therapy doesn't get rid of symptoms -- it just helps you process them and teaches you how to cope with them. In some cases, this can cause a decrease in symptoms (for example, talking about an experience can help you process it and decrease the amount of nightmares you have about it) but it doesn't directly get rid of symptoms.

Also worth noting is that therapy doesn't work for everybody and that there are so many other ways of managing PTSD and trauma in general. Some people benefit more from medication (usually anti-anxiety meds or antidepressants) or other types of therapy (such as eye-movement or narrative therapies).

Of course, there are also people that cope with their trauma in ways that aren't generally considered "healthy" such as substance use, risk-taking behaviours, self-harm, etc.

Although therapy is becoming more popular and more openly talked about, I think it's important to acknowledge that there's not just one "right" way to healing from, coping with, and processing trauma.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

#mod icarus #anonymous #ptsd representation

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nolita-fairytale · 2 years ago

Text

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea.

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like.

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make.

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call.

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects.

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation.

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time.

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests.

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip.

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness.

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors.

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.”

And expensive ones too.

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf.

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile.

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip.

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him.

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes.

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat.

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store.

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?”

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare.

“Marcus,

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad.

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him.

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days.

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement.

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right.

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air.

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation.

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent.

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through.

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction.

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.”

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod.

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work.

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them.

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead.

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares.

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence.

And how is his heart?

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone.

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces.

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together.

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land.

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer.

He waits. And then he waits.

Until finally, he can answer.

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to.

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos.

But this. But you.

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient.

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out.

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created.

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been.

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry.

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you.

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen.

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date.

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval.

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper.

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor.

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity.

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room.

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim.

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart.

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress.

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff.

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around.

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time.

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly.

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus.

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through.

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in.

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling.

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you.

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently.

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night.

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan.

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently.

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against.

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully.

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs.

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours.

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation.

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies.

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body.

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend.

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him.

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment.

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision.

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman.

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life.

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person.

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark.

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug.

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it.

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working.

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes.

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook.

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board.

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction.

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours.

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off.

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left.

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here.

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice.

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.”

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation.

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday.

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling.

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light.

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier.

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious.

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you.

“Deal,” you agree with him.

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously.

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms.

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales.

He waits a beat.

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands.

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue.

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.”

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him.

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out.

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.”

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat.

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.”

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.”

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly.

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present.

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?”

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.”

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly.

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start.

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes.

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy.

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca.

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously.

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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wonryllis · 11 months ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐒 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒

𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗒 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎?

ׅ ꢾ꣒ find the MASTERLIST here.

PREVIEW. you always get what you want, spoiled with the love of everyone around you. and it's all innocent love, at least that's what everyone thinks. it comes with much surprise therefore, when heeseung makes a move on you. thirteen long years of being in the brother zone having made him utterly clueless that if he’s going to date you he has to pass through your actual brothers first. and he knows how scary they can be. especially since they are known to have a sister complex and he’s been the third scary one with them, numerous times before.

𝐈 check out the PROFILES.

PLS READ THE CONTENT BELOW ALL THE CHARACTER INFO IS LISTED IN JUST THIS ONE POST !

𝐈𝐈 tune in to the CHARACTER INTERVIEWS ( given by the characters themselves ! )

CHOI YN 20 ( fashion ), well what do i say? hello everyone i'm choi yn! im sure everyone knows me already ^^ .. what else do i say? hmm i love my life a lot! i love my brothers and heeseung and wonie so much, they are the closest people in my life! oh shit sorry riki too hehe oops. college has been fun since im doing exactly what i wanted and it's fun to hangout with won all the time. seungie brings me snacks all the time and binnie lets me eat cakes everyday even though junnie has scolded them not to cause i easily get dental problems and then he has to convince be to go to the dentist, eww.

LEE HEESEUNG 23 ( film ), if you ever stop hearing from me, please know that my day has come and i have chosen to be exposed. as much as jun and soobs love me, and as much as they love tiny(my yn, she's just real cute) if i ever dare speak of that kind of love with tiny in the same sentence it's my last moment on earth. jay and taehyun help a lot and i'd give everything to thank them for it but man they still haven't been able to actually help me get with yn?

CHOI SOOBIN 24 ( law school ), yes my sister is my everything, each one of her wishes no matter how stupid and idiotic they are, must be fulfilled. i think i was like ten when ynie said being a lawyer would be so cool, and it's been my life's motto now. law school kicks my ass yeah but whenever i think of how happy she'd be to see me as a badass lawyer it feels like nothing. i could easily help her win the divorce that's a plus point, i think i should start looking into divorce attorney things.

CHOI YEONJUN 25 ( model ), i swear scaring away my baby sister's admirers is one of my full time jobs besides runaway modelling but alas she is my sister of course she's a beauty. i know she will date and marry a motherfucking guy one day, and i won't be able to stop it but i hope that day takes the longest time to come. she was one of the first ones to say how good my dressing style was, if it wasnt for her i would not be one of the rising faces in the fashion scene today.

PARK JAY 22 ( music production ), being lee heeseung's childhood friend has been my life's greatest downfall. and being his emergency contact number one is probably the biggest mistake of my life. it's so so so infuriating to see him do nothing and panic over the fact that some might sweep her off her feet right before his eyes like fucker you gotta sweep her off her feet rather than worrying over how someone else might sweep her off her feet. taehyun probably understands me.

SIM JAKE 22 ( physics ), it's fun, so so fun i can not express it verbally man, 'm having a blast! there's so many new things to learn i am so happy with my major and my astronomy club thing is going so well too, it's been amazing so far. the only thing i dont like is my mates ignoring me, like i tell them about all these quantum mechanics things and how it's works like it's legit the coolest thing ever and they don't wanna listen me and then come to me for help with assignments like dude? there's no give and take here and it's not high school anymore? but i do it cause im nice :)

PARK SUNGHOON 22 ( communications ), first of all i gotta thank my man taehyun for letting me copy off of him to pass my semesters so far. as a full time commercial and photoshoot model, college is just a side quest for me at this point, just need an arm candy degree to show that i am infact educated contrary to what people think. oh and i'd like to tell this, don't tell anyone, i actually know all the drama going on and it's so funny but i gotta stay low if i wanna be safe. sometimes i do think of stirring things up but yeonjun man he scares me, i better be on his good side.

KIM SUNOO 21 ( journalism ), for real god am i the only one working my ass off here cause why the hell all these dicks be fucking up their lives and copying off people to survive like? look at me, every little gossip on campus and you know who to go to get the full info! exactly how it should be for a journalism major. i swear i am doing all the shit ass work here. i admit i slip sometimes especially with heeseung's secret in front of god forbidden yn but 'm just a human, and humans make mistakes yk? and please tell kai to fuck off please, thank you.

YANG JUNGWON 20 ( fashion ), it's a different feeling when three guys trust you with their precious sister. and it's a different feeling when that precious real spoiled girl treats you like the best buddy she could ever have. but it's not so fortunate when you gotta dash to protect anytime the brothers ping you, it's like a national secret agency part time job and it's the hardest thing when the target is someone like yn. i treasure her a lot, as a friend! yes, yet the times when her brothers get jealous of me are some of the most nerve wrecking times.

NISHIMURA RIKI 20 ( photography ), are we surprised here? no wtf have y'all not seen the pics i post on my twt like i got talent you have to accept it. especially a lot of talent in gaming and luck, my luck be through the roofff. just started lol a year ago and my YouTube Chanel six months ago and im already almost a diamond and about to hit a million subscribers.. talk about god's favorite! ha that's me. but the thing is more than that i wanna be yn's favorite like i know she says won and i are same but i know that kitty is closer. for now i like being glued to yn, but after figuring out things so easily it's hard to keep quiet.

CHOI BEOMGYU 23 ( film ), with the amount of hate train behind me it's a miracle i am still breathing and in one piece. praying all this ends quickly and my life is returned back to me or i'll go crazy it has been like what two? three? years already! i need my freedom. i can count and name with my fingers the people who hate me. actually no it's everyone. anyways, i share all classes with heeseung and lord is it the scariest part of my life. at least yeonjun and soobin would need time to hunt me down but lee heeseung? he's right behind me two rows, staring down my every movement. look it's not my fault okay?

KANG TAEHYUN 22 ( communications ), it wasn't consensual. it is very important to clear this up. i did not give my papers to park sunghoon by choice. he had to pay me hefty for that so there's no thank you man, dude is pretending. and i am fucking sick of covering for heeseung all the time like dude grow balls, real balls dig up some manly guts and fucking do it before i lose patience and fuck shit up. every moment of listening to him lamenting over his feelings is the most frustrating shit ever. make him hear this one for god's fucking sake.

HUENING KAI 22 ( journalism ), no matter how much everyone denies it, i know they won't survive a day without me like? i provide sunoo with all the gossip of our side? how else do you think heeseung sneaks around yeonbin with his feelings? god it's me i do the passing the parcel of info. i mean taehyun is also involved with them but then i am more useful than that reality check of a guy, i mean who needs reality when you can live in a fantasy! hehe i just outdid everyone with that! or not anyway moving on yn's cr— SUNOO: shut the fuck up bitch!

𝐈𝐈𝐈 learn about THE GROUPCHATS.

01. HEEYN TRUTHERS heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, taehyun and sunoo: the group that has been supporting heeseung in pursuing his feelings since he first revealed it to them. for whenever he fucks up and they have to discuss how to save his ass. normal chats happen too.

02. BOSS BABIES yn, jungwon, riki: the trio that has been friends since middle school, and sticks together. yn spends most of her time with them, that is in college. often goes out to hangout and these two are yn's only actual friends!

03. SHOOTERZ 4 YN yeonjun, soobin, heeseung and jungwon: they use this chat to text each other whenever someone upsets yn or she's going somewhere alone and they need jungwon to secretly tag along to give them updates later.

04. PRINCESS & HER KNIGHTZ yn, yeonjun, soobin and heeseung: the main stars— spoiled baby and her overprotective boys. usually text her when it has to do something with the four of them, like when yn goes out or she needs someone to pick her up or accompany her or when they have dinner at each other's place and someone's missing and likewise.

05. PSYCHOS W/ SICKOS yeonjun, soobin, beomgyu, taehyun, huening kai and heeseung: well this is heeseung's other friend group with the yn brothers' friends that become his own after a while. this is yeonbin dominated friend group chat and beomgyu is main character lmao

START THE STORY — prologue 𓈒 ‎𓈒 ‎𓈒

TAGLIST . ( OPEN ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @snoopypupp @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @diorsyun @hooniehon @fakeuwus @caramelcandescence @intromortal @kookify @yutasberryy @sumzysworld @nikiswifiee @shuichi-sama @primroselover @rayofsunshineeee @aishigrey @yjwluvs @soraokkotsu @nyfwyeonjun @srhnyx @trashx678 @wondipity @winuvs @hoondiors @niniissus @firstclassjaylee @biancaness send an ask to be added! (if your comment goes unnoticed it is not my responsibility)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #HOPE Y'ALL FIND THIS FUNNY ENOUGH ㅠㅠ #enhypen smau #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen social media au #enhypen socmed au #enhypen social au #heeseung smau #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

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marsprincess889 · 5 months ago

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Ok so I'm back to bringing you guys' attention to what's going on in my country.

I don't have the heart to tell it all in detail. In truth we're all so familiar with it that talking about it seems comical. But to keep you up to date, there have been massive protests in Tbilisi, Georgia since late November.

On 26th of October of this year, the Georgian Dream party falsifies yet another election and on the 26th of november elects themselves as the ruling party again, despite EU, most of the other nations and all the other parties recognizing the elections as illegitimate. Recently they chose their new president, who was basically the only option. The photo of the literal bulletin from the parliament leaked.

People demand another election, a fair one. Peaceful protests soon turned into police beating up the protestors, even teens and women. They're still using water cannons mixed with pepper spray, in December btw. You can look up the videos, even on here.

The main thing that is painful to me and my generation in all of this is the fact that this is a completely new, modern and different version of the same damn fight. Right now I'm thinking of young men and even women and others who were severely beaten up, about people struggling to make ends meet who have their loved ones in such situations, young people trying to build their future who see less and less hope every day in their homeland but are desparately trying to hold on to the last tiny bit of it, maybe even goimg to protests in that state. Today I heard two girls around my age talking. "We gotta get out of here right?..." "yeah... but who are we leaving it to?" "The country?..."

Being free and sovereign in your homeland should not be an uphill battle or a luxury.

We have been fighting against Russian influence for centuries. For those who don't know, even when the repression isn't obvious, they still attack bit by bit(killing or kidnapping our citizens near the occupated borders??????), often with an old and tried tactic: trying to erase our culture and history, and with it our spirit and identity. And with all the other horrors, this is a huge insult.

My heart sinks everytime I read a random comment on a map or other type of video saying "Georgia is not Europe", "but Georgia is Asia". Not that there's anything wrong with Asia, but those statements mean something different and much deeper than an average foreigner suspects. Georgia never ever was "not Europe" to me. This isn't even about joining EU immediately as much as it is about us voicing our own wishes, opinions and truth as the vast majority of our country.

One thing I want to say to people who are far away from this is this: please do not fall for propaganda. And by that I mean Russian propaganda. If you just try to keep it clean while posting about us or checking sources while reading about us and calling out misinformation, it is going to mean a lot.

I tried to not write about this cause let's be honest, what can I do here?

I hope this will do at least something.

I do have followers so, I'm also asking them🤍🤍🤍 even those who just know me from astrology. Please consider reading and reblogging. 🤍🤍

reblogging(esp with tags) is still support.

Edit, additional info that you should probably know: Georgian Dream is a pro-russian government, they just banned wearing masks and goggles(those protect you from pepper spray by the way). If you walk by the parliament in Tbilisi your eyes and skin will almost definitely start to "burn" and you'll most likely start coughing.

There have been phone numbers calling and cursing at/insulting/threatening citizens, even pre-teens, believe it or not. And since the government passed "the russian law" earlier this year, we are most likely being tracked😐

Here is my post from this spring, written in an angry and tired state.

#georgia #vedic astrology #sakartvelo #georgia protests #🇬🇪#tbilisi #protests in tbilisi #protests in georgia #astrology #nakshatras #astrology observations #sidereal astrology

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katareyoudrilling · 1 year ago

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The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales (Porn Star AU)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Porn Star Female Reader

Summary: A popular porn site runs a sweepstakes to win a night with your favorite porn star. One of the winners is a man and he has chosen you. Will it be a night of mediocre sex or will Frankie surprise you?

Word count: ~3.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Unprotected PIV (paperwork is involved), oral (m and f receiving), a hint of tummy worship, reader’s clothing is described briefly but no physical description

A/N: I got in the weeds a bit thinking how something like this could be made safe for everyone involved and decided we all just need to suspend our disbelief. I left some in for the sake of “the plot” but let’s trust that everyone has good intentions. The company mentioned is heavily inspired by Bellesa. This was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy a reverse sweepstakes!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist - link in bio or let me know!

“Thanks for coming in.” Erin shuts the door behind you as you take a seat across from her desk.

“Of course.” You have a scene to film after this meeting. It was no problem to come in a little early.

“So, as you know, we are running this sweepstakes for our subscribers to win a night with their favorite performer. You agreed to be one of the female options and even though the vast majority of our subscribers are women, one of our winners is a man and he chose you.”

“Oh wow.” You can’t help but be a little flattered. Everyone likes to be chosen.

“Yeah, so I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re ok to continue. I have his picture and basic info here.” She slides some paperwork across the desk, and you pick it up.

Looking back at you are the kindest brown eyes you think you’ve ever seen. He is wearing a baseball cap – hair curling around his ears – a scruffy beard, and a lopsided smile. His name is Francisco Morales.

“We’ve done a background check and everything like we talked about, and he looks good from our end. You still have the right to refuse, though,” Erin continues as you read over Francisco’s information.

“He’s cute. I’m not concerned. I can handle a night of mediocre sex with a civilian and make this guy’s dream come true.” It feels a little conceited to say it, but as an adult entertainer, you know you’re the subject of a lot of male fantasies. You also know that you are very good at what you do.

Erin laughs. “That’s very generous of you. Hopefully it won’t be too bad, but best to set expectations low.” She takes the papers back from you. “I know you have a scene to film upstairs. I’ll let you know when we get this scheduled.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Erin!” You push back from the desk and leave the office with a wave.

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

When the day arrives, you prepare like you would for any scene. You’re not more nervous than any other day when you’d be having sex with a new scene partner. You dress in your signature outfit of a crop-top and cut-off jean shorts, showing off your legs is never a bad idea.

When you arrive at the studio, you check in with Erin to go over Francisco’s final paperwork and reaffirm that all the company’s requirements around consent and safety have been met.

When everything is settled, you go to meet him in the filming room.

You open the door to a man pacing back and forth, worrying a baseball cap in his hands. Erin had warned you that he seemed nervous and not to expect him to be sitting eagerly on the bed waiting for you like your usual partners.

He looks up at you when he hears the door, panic written all over his features.

“Hi, Francisco, it’s nice to meet you.” You approach him cautiously, opening your arms for a hug.

He accepts the hug and you’re pleasantly surprised at the warm comfort of his broad shoulders and t-shirt-clad chest before pulling away.

“Call me Frankie,” he replies, running his fingers through his wavy hair.

“Frankie it is. How are you?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I just… I feel like such a creep.” He hangs his head and twists the hat in his hands. “The cameras…” he gestures to the tripods set up in the corners of the room. “They said they are partly to keep you safe… I… I shouldn’t be here.”

He was right about the cameras. Sweepstakes winners had the option of recording their encounter for private use, but in your case, the feed would also be monitored for your safety.

“I heard you chose to go for the recording option. I’m glad you did. I would have tried to change your mind before we started otherwise.” He glances up at you, surprised. “I like performing for cameras.” You shrug and one corner of his mouth twitches. You take it as a good sign.

“Look Frankie, I’m not going to make you stay, but I’d really like if we could talk for a minute.”

You sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you. Frankie relents and sits next to you, keeping a safe distance between your bodies. It’s endearing really, and warmth stirs in your chest.

“We’re both adults here, Frankie. I signed up for this too, you know. No one is forcing me to be here.”

Frankie lets out a long exhale and finally meets your gaze. “Thank you for saying that. It’s just a really strange situation and I got in my head about it.”

“Perfectly understandable. Why don’t you tell me why you entered the sweepstakes?”

He runs his hand through his hair again, it must be a nervous habit of his. It’s delightfully disheveled and you notice shades of caramel and gray woven through the dark brown waves. You allow your gaze to roam over his features. Aquiline nose. Pouty lips. He is a very handsome man. His picture didn’t do him justice.

“I’m not sure what I was thinking at the time, to be honest with you. I’m just a big fan.” He offers you that lopsided smile you first saw in his photo.

“You know, most of our subscribers are women, it’s kind of our thing. What lead you to us? And as a subscriber as well?”

“Good question,” he exhales again. “I really like the idea of supporting an ethical production company where I can know everyone involved is consenting. I don’t want to ever think someone has been coerced or treated badly while I’m… you know.” His ears turn pink, and it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.

“That’s important to me too,” you nod and scoot a little bit closer to him on the bed.

“I also like that the orgasms are real. I’m not interested in anyone... faking.” If his ears weren’t red before, they certainly are now. Along with his nose and cheeks.

It occurs to you that one of the other female performer options practically comes if you look at her. If Frankie had just wanted an ego boost tonight, he could have easily chosen her. It’s not that it’s difficult for you, but it is going to take some effort. It stirs your interest that he might be up to the challenge.

“Do you like making women come, Frankie?”

He nods and smiles a little, still looking down at the hat in his hands.

“Do you think you can make me come tonight?” You look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I’d certainly like to fucking try,” he looks directly into your eyes and the deep rumble of his voice turns the affectionate warmth in your chest into a building fire in your core. You move even closer so that your leg is touching his.

Frankie stares at the bare skin of your knee where it brushes against his jeans.

“Can I touch you, Frankie?”

He looks up at you and nods. So much want burning in his kind eyes.

You run your fingers through the hair at his temple and scratch your nails through his scruff. He leans into your hand and moans.

Oh fuck.

The sound shoots straight to your pussy.

“Can I touch you?” Frankie rasps.

“Yes, you can. But you need to lose the hat.”

He chuckles, dropping the misshapen hat on the floor before tentatively lifting his hand to place it on your leg. His hands are large, warm, and calloused. Sparks fly over your skin as he strokes your softness. You lean in slowly and press your lips to his cheek, then his mouth.

His plush lips part with a sigh. You turn his face towards you as you gently explore.

It’s been a while since you’ve just made out with someone. He seems to need you to go slowly and you certainly don’t want to spook him now that he is more relaxed. In your brief conversation you’ve become very curious about this man.

Frankie tentatively glides his hand over your clothed hip, barely letting his fingers caress the skin above the waistband of your shorts.

You guide him gently up onto the bed and stretch out along his long frame. He’s so warm and soft, you just want to snuggle into his chest.

It’s luxurious and unhurried and oh so hot.

You let out a contented sigh as you slide your hand under his shirt and up his back. His grip tightens on your hip, so you roll your hips towards him in response – encouraging him to touch you.

He receives the message, shifting his hand to palm your ass. You moan into his mouth and are rewarded with a strangled groan as his grip tightens. His rough fingertips skim the sensitive skin of your upper thigh sending shivers up your spine.

“You feel so good, Frankie,” you break away from his mouth as he trails kisses down your neck. “I want to feel more of you.”

You tug at his shirt and he reluctantly stops kissing you to pull it over his head. You are rewarded with a vision of golden skin over strong muscles. He’s slightly soft around the middle and it makes you want to see your teeth marks on his skin.

You sit up and quickly pull your crop top over your head and are reaching for the clasp of your bra, when he sits up and stills your hands.

“Let me, baby.”

“Whatever you want, Frankie.”

You place your hands on his chest as he traces his fingers over the cups and straps of your bra, watching goosebumps rise over your skin. It’s so sensuous and deliberate, you’re struggling not to whimper and you don’t even have your clothes off yet. When he reaches around to undo the clasp, you crowd into his chest and begin to lick and suck at his neck.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as you taste his skin. Delicious. You allow your bra to slide down your arms and off then reach for the button of his jeans. “Take these off.”

“In a minute,” Frankie replies and you scoff. This isn’t the nervous man you first met. You smile to yourself. He must be getting comfortable.

Turns out he needs a minute because he wants to explore your tits. He brushes his fingertips over your nipples, watching them tighten in response. He gathers you onto his lap, better to pull each bud into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around you, one breast at a time, palming the other with his large hands. It’s exquisitely, maddeningly slow. Your pussy aches as you try to find some friction through your shorts, but he’s holding you away from himself.

Frankie smiles around your tit as you whine and try to grind into him.

“You like this, huh?” you complain, clutching at his broad shoulders.

“Do I like making you sound like that? Yes, I do.” His voice rumbles pleasantly against your chest.

He finally relents, working his way up your neck and back to your mouth. You take control of the kiss, plunging your tongue into his mouth and nipping at his bottom lip. He lays back for you on the bed, settling with his head up against the headboard. You take the opportunity to undo the fly of his jeans.

“Can I have these now?” you tease.

“Only if I can have yours.” His gorgeous mouth pulls up into his signature lopsided grin.

“Deal.” You shimmy out of your shorts and underwear as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and tosses them on the floor.

You sit back on your heels and take in the gloriously naked man in front of you. His long legs stretch out on either side of your hips.

He’s not the polished, waxed, perfectly honed specimen of a man you often work with. You find that it’s perfectly ok with you, might even be preferable. He’s so real, splayed out and unselfconscious.

Broad, warm, soft at the edges, but hard where it matters.

And the way he’s looking at you… It gives you shivers. There’s a deep hunger in those brown eyes, but also patience and a surprising amount of control. You had expected this to be a pretty quick encounter, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. You squirm, noticing the wetness building in your center.

He watches you with hooded eyes as you slide your hands up his muscular thighs. His cock bobs eagerly against his stomach. He has a very nice cock. Possibly the best you’ve seen on a civilian, being a porn star does spoil you a bit in that regard.

His is nice and thick and plenty big enough to know he will feel really good.

You take him in your hand and stroke him up and down, licking your lips.

“You don’t ha…” he interrupts and you silence him with a look.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do, Frankie. Trust me.”

He nods and exhales, relaxing again against the headboard. His chest is delightfully flushed as he takes stuttering breaths with each stroke of your hand.

“You’re so pretty,” you praise him and watch as the flush creeps up his neck and blooms across his cheeks.

So fucking pretty.

Then you take him in your mouth.

His hips buck underneath you and he curses as he tries to still himself.

You pull out all the stops, giving him the slipperiest, deepest blow job you can.

You enjoy watching men come apart for you. It’s a shame so many of your scene partners are so used to it now, they don’t react the way Frankie does.

He fists his hands in the sheets. His mouth drops open. His chest rises and falls with ragged pants. The tendons in his neck strain as he tries to keep himself under control.

His cock is thick and heavy on your tongue. Just how you like it.

You take your time taking him apart.

He’s just so pretty.

At the first sign that his control is slipping, you slow down. Easing yourself off him and surveying the wrecked man in front of you with satisfaction.

You kiss your way up his tummy, nipping his soft flesh as you go. Your teeth marks look just as good as you hoped – little pink crescents on his golden skin. You continue up his chest and recapture his mouth for a hungry kiss.

You straddle his hips and line yourself up to sink down, when he grabs you and flips you over.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He pants into your mouth before kissing down your body, stroking your skin with his calloused fingers. He continues working his way down to your pussy making his intent clear. What a pleasant surprise.

You love oral sex and even sub-par oral, is still oral, right? You prop yourself up on your elbows and open your knees wide so you can watch as Frankie takes a long lick from your entrance to your clit.

You sigh in contentment. His mouth is warm, wet, and firm. So what if you don’t come, it still feels good.

You relax and let your head drop back as Frankie explores. He circles… sucks… nudges.

Ohhhh

Tightness coils in your belly and you look down at him with a gasp.

He’s good at this.

He’s looking up at you. Brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Then he winks.

He knows he’s good at this.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat, but are quickly pulled back under by the pleasure emanating from between your legs.

“Yes, Frankie. That feels so good,” you moan succumbing to the building pressure. You clench around nothing and are rewarded with a thick finger in your cunt.

“Fuuuuck,” you whine as he strokes in time with his tongue.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. You gonna come for me?” he rasps between licks. His scruff tickling your sensitive skin.

Who is this pussy-eating king who is better than some of the professionals you’ve worked with?

It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the coil winding tighter in your belly. The fluttering of your pussy. The stars sparking at the edge of your vision.

And suddenly you’re coming. Pulsing against his tongue as he works you through it. Groaning his own pleasure into your center.

As the waves subside, Frankie reclaims your mouth, dragging his cock through your slick folds, blocking out your vision with his broad shoulders. You pull him down to you, running your fingers through his hair and down along his muscular back.

“How do you want me, baby?” you ask him between nips at his bottom lip. You tilt your hips up to him and savor the rough grind of his cock between your legs.

“I want you every way, sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck and your heart does a little pitter patter. Just post-orgasm glow, you tell yourself.

“I want this to be a night to remember for you, Frankie. How about the porn star special?”

He pulls back from nuzzling your neck, amusement lifting one side of his face into that charming grin. “What’s the porn star special?”

You give him a mischievous grin, “Just follow my lead.”

Over the course of the evening, you lead Frankie through your repertoire. The kinds of hyper flexible positions he’ll only ever see in porn. You giggle your way through some of the more ridiculous ones when Frankie furrows his brow and questions what exactly anyone is supposed to be getting out of this.

You slow down when Frankie grabs your hips and hisses that he’s too close. You kiss across his chest and shoulders and from his neck to his soft tummy as he regains his composure. You take breaks for water and lube, teasing and laughing while you catch your breath.

You come more than once along the way. Frankie finds your clit and gives you the extra friction you need to tip over the edge. He stays with you, locked eyes and panted breath, through each one. You don’t think too hard about why each time you come, it’s while staring into those soulful eyes.

In the end, you find yourself on his lap, grinding your hips into him as he sits with his back against the headboard and his face between your tits. He feels so good in your pussy, filling you up just right.

It’s syrupy and slow, both of you worn out and rocking into each other. Frankie’s panted moans hot against your chest.

“Can I finish in you?” he pleads, sweaty curls plastered across his forehead.

“You don’t want to see your cum all over me?”

“No, no, I need to feel you around me when I come, sweetheart, please,” he begs. “I need your perfect pussy.” As if you would deny him that.

You brush his hair away from his face and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Of course, Frankie. Fill me up.”

Frankie practically growls as he tips you backwards on to the bed. He positions himself above you, grasping your leg as he drives into you in long, firm strokes.

He pours every last ounce of his energy into you, finally allowing himself to chase the climax you’ve been edging him towards all evening. He presses his forehead to yours while he slams into you at a relentless pace. So close. So deep. Your climax hovers on the horizon once again.

“Come with me Frankie,” you whimper. He groans and stutters in response. You watch his face contort into pure bliss and it tips you over the edge with him.

Such a beautiful sight.

Maybe you need a copy of this video too.

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

Frankie waits on the sidewalk for his Uber, resting his back against the non-descript building and letting the memories of the evening replay in his mind.

After the scene, you had both cleaned up. The bed was a mess, but you had assured him that it was ok, it came with the business.

You were more wonderful than he ever could have imagined. So beautiful, sexy, and fun. You had been so kind and complimentary after. He didn’t know how to end the evening… to say goodbye. He stammered his thanks when you gave him a hug and a final kiss as you showed him where he could take a shower before he left for the night.

When he’d come out, you were already gone.

Just a memory now.

One he would revisit often.

Thank fuck he agreed to the video.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. The Uber is probably close by. He pulls it out absently, brain still hazy and sex-addled.

There’s a message from an unknown number:

I hope you don’t mind, I convinced Erin to give me your number. I had a great time tonight. Call me sometime ;-)

A slow smile spreads over his face. Maybe not just a memory after all.

- - - - - - - - -

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

#the sweepstakes #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal

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transparentkinks · 9 days ago

Text

Wait, you're pre-war?

Hancock edition because he is my fav

He had no doubt she was a vault dweller the second she strolled into his town. Figured she had a little more teeth than most to threaten the guy trying to charge her protection money. More than just the bright blue suit, her pip-boy looked damn near untouched and she frequently brought it close to her face and adjusted the dials to check or write down different things. He wasn’t so sure about pre-war. He’d met plenty of people who claimed to be pre war, most of them were ghouls and half of them were liars. Actual pre-war folks were rare, and it wasn’t something to flaunt unless you’re looking to ‘disappear’. He half believed her when Daisy declared that she was legit, but he figured it wasn’t a hard guess to say people are still people and the amount of people around before the war was a lot, but then-

“Hi there Nora. Been a while since the pickman gig, I was hoping I’d run into ya.”

“Yeah?” She seemed amused in her ridiculous getup. Like a genderswap of that old world comic.

“Guess what someone tells me? Some costumed freak is operating in Goodneighbor. And the kicker is, it ain’t me. How am I supposed to feel about this?” He cracked one of his typical jokes, sizing up the now well-known vault dweller wondering what the hell she was up to in his town.

“This neighborhood is ill.” She spoke in the goofiest voice he’s ever heard and he had to stop himself from laughing in her face. She may be acting and in costume, but she’d already rubbed out plenty of movers and shakers on his turf to leave behind that little call sign card. “I am the cure.” She spoke confidently in her oversized trench-coat and hat.

“God, You’re priceless.” He lost the battle to hold back a chuckle. “Like the silver shroud herself walked out of a comic book into my den. Just priceless.” This encounter with the vault dweller’s flavor of crazy was sure to be one for the books. If he could get this lil ball of crazy working for him, his town would be perfect. “You’ve been busy scaring people. Bashing in a few faces. I respect that- so far. But I gotta ask, one freak to another. Why the getup?”

“Many have sought to pierce the shroud-” She spoke haughtily, in her same ridiculous put-on voice. “To no avail.” Dammit this was supposed to be a kinda serious talk. He was one line away from busting out laughing.

“You just don’t stop. Stay you, pal.” He spoke with no small measure of levity. Dammit hancock, focus! This barrel of laughs could be in the mood to wipe out more thorns in his side, considering those remaining thorns may start sticking in her side soon. “Those low-lives you took out all belong to the same asshole. And that asshole’s planning some old-fashioned revenge on you, ya dig?” Better make sure this superhero has the info she needs to take out the trash in his town. “Fortunate for you, I want Sinjin to take a dirt nap.” More fortunate for him really, want was an understatement. Sinjin and his crew kept the allys and private residences of goodneighbor dangerous, since his guys kept to the streets unless someone calls them. “He’s taken two-bit raider outfits and made them- scary. Small fish now, but if left alone-” Understatement of the century. These guys wanted to be a new kind of gunners.

“He will be judged for his crimes.” She spoke with finality, not once dropping the comic book hero voice.

“Trust me-” He spoke with a smirk. “He needs a lot of judging. Got a lead on two of his own: Smiley Kate and Northy. Smiley is gathering a possy to take you out. And Northy is just running scared, hired himself some goons and is holding up in Prospect. Just keep piling those body bags until you find the location of the big guy himself.”

“Sinjin thinks he is above judgement. But no one is safe from the Silver Shroud.” She loved her heroic declarations, huh? He just prayed she was as monstrous in a fight as they said on the streets, no need to get this lady killed for some costumed escapades-

“Don’t get killed.” He warned. “You deal with Sinjin and I'm inclined to show you some gratitude, you feel me?” She just gave him this quiet, confident smirk, like his warning was funny. Left with a nod, look of amusement never dropping. Talk about a rogue variable-

---------

Sinjin was dead, so says the rumors along the grapevine, and if Kent is to be believed saved him from near death. His men say she came back, visited bobby no-nose, and the two haven't been seen since. Fahrenheit says she thinks they’re tunneling underground by all the explosions that have been reported by traders, and she has a few different places mapped out for where they could be going. He couldn’t understand why the vault dweller was joining a heist against him instead of coming to claim their reward he promised for their caped escapades, but maybe she just had one hell of a screw loose. He figured once Fahrenheit stops them, he’ll be happy to let them go so long as they don’t start firing. He figured with the both of those nutcases together, who knows how they reasoned themselves into this.

It kinda stung though, he respected Bobby. She ran some good operations, never targeted people who didn’t deserve it. The fact that she was clearly angling for one of his storehouses meant that by Bobby's definition, he was The Man. He was too selfish, too authoritative to be trusted to distribute fairly to his citizens. In his city, Bobby felt like she had to rob him. One of his people. That really hurt. It was in a way the definition of failure. Was the vault dweller convinced this was justice? If that was true, if that’s how Bobby felt, fuck-

He needs to take a walk.

------

“Well if it ain’t Bobby’s little patsy.” He joked. She was out of costume when he saw her again. Fahrenheit filled him in plenty, her thinking she was pulling the heist on diamond city, chewing Bobby a new one and convincing her to stand down. He’s just glad no one died over this mess. “Here-” He dug into his pocket, pulled out a generous sized pouch of caps for her. “For protecting my stash, and for wiping out Sinjin. Real nice work there.” He complimented. “I’m glad you got her to stand down.”

“Me too. Sorry for blowing the floor out your warehouse.” She laughed, and he couldn’t suppress a chuckle of his own. Damn, that laugh was contagious.

“Hey, this is Goodneighbor.” He replied. “No hard feelings.”

“I figured since the guard didn’t open fire the second I stepped into town.” She Jested, but it rang too true. He could with just a few words kill anyone in his territory. Wouldn’t even need a reason, his guard would be happy to listen. She was right, if he was mad she wouldn’t have made it into the statehouse.

“Lemme tel ya-” He sighed. “This classy little tricorn hat of mine is getting heavy. Am I turning into the Man? Some kind of tyrant?” She was giving him her attention as he spoke, he appreciated it. “I spend all my time putting down the people I would've been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again, get a grip on what really matters; living free.”

“Are you able to leave like that?” She looked at him quizzically. “Arn’t you the mayor?”

“Hey, the mayor is still the mayor whether he’s ‘in residence’ or not.” He replied certainly. “I’ve walked outta here plenty a times. Keeps me honest. Can’t let power get to my head. That’s not what being in charge of Goodneighbor is all about.” She grinned at that, this bright, sunny, perfect thing. Shiny straight teeth, barely chapped lips, it wasn’t fair, making his old ghoulified heart skip a beat with nothing. With just a twitch of her face. Fuck, looking at her clearly, no shenanagains, no shock at the bright blue and shiny pip-boy or confusion at her costume and sunglasses, she was really, unfairly pretty. Like some chick in a pre-war magazine strolled off the pages. He could see where the pre-war rumors came from, they must have it really nice in those vaults.

“If you’re headed out of here, why not travel with me?” She offered, and it was like she was pulling one of the millions of schoolboy-worthy dream scenarios out of his head and reading the script aloud.

“Yeah-” He drawled, exceedingly pleased with how this was unfolding. “I like it. You might just be the right kind of trouble. Lemme just have a little chat with my community first. Give them the news.”

--------

“I can’t believe you poached one of my citizens.” He teased as he re-joined her for dinner, having spent the afternoon exploring the aptly named little community of Sanctuary. To his shock, his travel companion was the infamous general of the minutemen, who’s been talked about like some sort of fairy-tale creature. Traders came through goodneighbor with stories of clean running water, strange buildings, and flocks of people immigrating to minutemen territory. To hear the folks on the radio tell it, most people couldn’t find sanctuary, and it was talked about like some foreign land. If you asked him, it sure looked like it.

Turns out, as Nora had explained to him on the trip up, there’s just one way in or out and she’s been planting dense vegetation, on top of carving something she called earth-smiles into the barren soil. Indeed, the closer they got to her sanctuary, the greener their surroundings got. The security when they arrived was impressive, it looked like it was all pre-war tech. Mounted turrets everywhere, controlled bridge access, tall walls built from the same material as the houses, barbed wire embedded in the very top. She talked about it all casually, saying she just did this or that, but he didn’t actually put it together who she was until she had been immediately dragged away by people in uniform without any fuss, and in fact a great deal of humor, telling him she’ll see him later at dinner, go explore. Of course, her people were happy to spell it out for him just who she was and sing the praises of what she did.

The buildings all looked strange, rounded dirt walls and packed grass roofs, but they were pretty extraordinary. The bunkhouse was clean, the doctor’s even cleaner. The bunkhouse offered individual rooms, and when the receptionist he learned Nora employed let him take a peak he saw the rooms were not only were clean, but the beds looked new and the sheets, blankets, and pillows were an even cream, like they were dyed and not faded. Their cheapest room made his room in the statehouse look like a hobo shack.

The lady running the hospital claimed to be a robot and had a crazy accent and practically begged him for a blood donation, saying she had very little opportunities to work with ghouls like she does humans, lamenting to him there was only one other ghoul in sanctuary and she needed ‘replication’. She assured him it was all sterile, and by the time he felt like she would get emotional if he said no, he was convinced to get stabbed by the most polite doctor he’d met. She said, as they waited for his blood to pool in the bag, that she had explored many avenues of research in the commonwealth thanks to Nora and talked to him about her findings till the moment she pulled the needle from his skin.

There was a playground for the grand total of two kids he could spot running around the streets, though Nora talked excitedly about the school she had underway on the walk up so there were probably more. The weapons and armor stores had impressive displays and a huge variety of items, the clothing store also sold toys, trinkets and jewelry seemingly handmade by the owner and her very talkative teenage daughter. He could see her toddler son on the floor, playing in a small box of scrap fabric with a sewn fabric fish. The woman looked preganant, and brought up her husband hunted and tanned the leather in their goods himself. He was pretty much pressured into buying a necklace the girl made as he chatted with he mother and examined their shockingly wide variety of wares. He couldn't begrudge them though, it was a fair price and he had never seen someone carve such a medallion from trash glass bottles.

The necklace was wonderfully smooth to the touch and shiny, small multicolored beads of yellow and blue plastic and glass patterned in different sizes to accentuate the large amber glass medallion carved in the shape of the sun hanging down in the middle, all strung on a thin leather cord. He wasn’t sure he would wear it, but it was worth every cap. He’d never seen people make clothes or items so detailed. The people Nora had found here were talented. That, on top of the delicious roast squirrel on a stick sold at the bar that for some reason had vegetables skewered and cooked alongside the meat and their variety. Variety! Of cold beer, wine, and spirits. It was the best meal he’d ever bought during one of the most pleasant afternoons of his life, and the bartender warned him not to spoil his appetite for the community dinner. A free dinner for everyone?! Every Night?! Even visitors?! Yep, the bartender was happy to explain.

They had guards, traders, hunters, builders he could see making another house in a cleared spot and fiddling around with the town’s water purifiers and generator building. Sprawling fields of razorgrain, mutfruit, melons, squash, every plant people could grow grew along the gentle slope down to the river, and he could see several people working in the fields. It was pretty picturesque considering they lived in an irradiated world. The place was idyllic, so it was pretty surprising to run into an old face running the general goods store. He was friendly enough, he knew the poor bastard was always a bit of a wuss. He guessed it got him through the years, but coward or not he was a part of goodneighbor. He guessed he couldn't blame the old bastard, the guy basically waxed poetic the second he brought up Nora and by the look and sound of it, he had a cushy ass setup here. Was a homeowner the old man bragged.

“It’s not my fault.” Nora answered with that soft smirk that meant she was feeling mischievous. “You could say we’re old friends.” She sat down with her bowl of stew the cafeteria provided, happy to join him at his table. She was dressed all pre-war, hair tamed back with one of those sparkly pre-war hairnets and dressed in dainty black flat shoes and a bright red dress, complete with the lipstick and a tiny metal pin with “General Howard” pinned to her dress. He swore he saw her in a magazine when he was a kid, like someone dragged the model through time.

“Man, what’s with the getup?” He found it hard to focus on any one thing, she was just ridiculously pretty. He was kind of stunned, he didn’t think he’d ever see, let alone talk to someone who looked like her. He’d seen plenty of people try, but out in the wasteland imitations of pre-war aesthetics were just that: imitations. Meant to show off to others that you can be fancy in the way people used to be, it showed you had enough, felt confident, lived safe, and it never quite looked right. Now he knows why, none of them can actually convincingly look pre-war, yet somehow Nora did so easily. “You look like someone from before the war, and it's all in great condition. Where’d you get that stuff? It must’a cost you an arm and a leg.” And it really should have. No stains, no wrinkles, the dress looked new, so did the shoes.

“I am pre-war” She spoke through her smirk, barely containing her amusement. “Considering I bought them new, they were pretty cheap when I bought them.”

“You’re shitting me. You look maybe 35, and that’s one hell of a stretch. There’s no way you can convince me you were around before the bombs fell.” He crossed his arms and re-appraised her. She looked like she was eating up this entire conversation.

“Believe me or not, it's the truth. Me and my whole family were frozen in the vault near here, 111. My kid was stolen while I was frozen, that’s why I'm looking for him.” She explained. “We got free admittance to the vault because me and my husband both served, so we never had to use our personal bunker. Luckily, we just stored emergency items down there and used the rest of the space for storage, so it all came in handy when I made it out of my vault.”

“You’re shitting me.” He was sure he looked stunned, he felt stunned. She was already an odd individual, a kind and oddly clever travel companion, and had little concept of personal space despite his ghoulish affliction. That was off-putting enough, this?

“I am not.” She spoke with a grin, like the first she gave him that stopped his heart, this one stopped it then sent it back racing several times, and he knew he was fucked.

#fallout 4 #fallout companions #sole survivor #fallout #my writing #sole survivor x hancock #john hancock #john hancock x sole survivor

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papaya-inspiration · 4 months ago

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Foreach 2024 Reader Survey Results

So, my buddy @lumsel makes a lil webcomic called Foreach. I help 'em out with it sometimes. The comic's website doesn't have a comment section, so I thought it'd be fun to do a little year-end survey to see who was reading and what they think!

We had an incredible response, with 279 respondents to the survey--more than are in the Foreach discord server! So let's get into it.

Character Popularity Poll

Alright, let's start with the thing I know y'all are most excited about. As the comic creators, we love all our characters equally... but clearly you guys don't!

☀️ SUNNY SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! ☀️

Y'all REALLY like Sunny, eh? Don't worry, us too. In fact, 80.3% of you listed her in your top 3 favorite characters. Hell yeah.

The next top four characters are the four game protagonists, with Jiro ranking top, then Nix, Cliff and Coral. A lot of readers also mentioned Jiro as particularly relatable/lovable in the write in box at the end of the form. (Don't worry, I won't tell him y'all like him this much. Though with this many Love Warriors, Proteus won't stand a chance invading the island.) I was a bit surprised to see Jasper/Coral ranked as the lowest of the four protagonists! Given that the comic initially presents her as the "anchor" character and a jumping off point for the story as a whole--but that also means she's among the least unusual of the four protagonists, and thus stands out less? It's a hypothesis.

After that, we have Polyta (which makes a lot of sense, she's had some of the most page time of the side characters), then Mercy and Doctor Kree'zik. I wonder if some of this is recency bias, partiularly in Kree'zik's case, seeing as we haven't gotten much past xer character introduction yet. I'll be curious to see how these numbers shift if we run this again next year!

We also got some minor character write ins! Several people said they enjoyed various Aveans, with two votes specifically for the Avean Captains and someone else voting for the avean grunt from page 106 who says "Thanks a bundle!" And I agree: they're pretty adorable. Another person listed "the author" as their favorite character which... you know what, it is a fairly meta comic, so I'll allow it. (Even though, hilariously, Lum is the only member of the creative team to have not had a character cameo in the comic yet.)

Also shout out to the person who wrote in that they almost listed the character cameos for Peri and Kiki (the rat and the rabbit from pgs 24-25) as their favorites. I see you and appreciate you <3

Game Popularity Poll

Not a ton to say about this. People seem to like cozy-ish indie games and furry aesthetics. Makes sense to me.

Comic Info

How are people finding Foreach?

As always, word of mouth is CRUCIAL for indie webcomics getting off the ground. You guys sharing and linking it to friends and communities is really the engine behind getting eyes onto our art--so thank you!

We got another big boost from joining the @spiderforestcomics webcomic collective. So far, it's been a great experience and we've been loving the community over there. So if you're in the market for more comics, definitely go check out some of theirs!

I should note that there is definitely some overlap between these categories. We let people mark multiple answers, so many people marked "Word of Mouth (online)" in addition to other categories like Tumblr and other discord servers. In that broader category, there where several places that people specifically noted finding the comic including:

Our reader Digamma has been tirelessly reposting the comic to the Something Awful forums, and it looks like quite a few people have been keeping up from there! Thanks, Digamma, you're a certified super-spreader!

Dan of @thewebcomicsreview has linked to Foreach several times!

People also mentioned finding it through various discord communities, including the Star Impact server, a server for puzzle games, Foxglove Comics, and others

Rilly had a cameo in @erinptah's webcomic, Leif and Thorne!

Several people discovered it directly through the Neocities discover page!

Cohost, Cloudhiker, and a fairly lukewarm substack review... which nonetheless garnered us a few readers. I'll take it!

Currently, Foreach doesn't pay for traditional banner ads of any kind. So everytime you tell a friend about the comic or share a link to it, you're helping us out a ton! Thank you!

How are people keeping up with comic updates?

Not too much to say on this. Lots of manual checkers, and it looks like we're getting good mileage out of that RSS feed. Excellent!

Readership Info

Discord Membership

We had more survey responses than people currently in the Foreach discord. But even more excitingly, only about one third of survey respondents are also in the discord. Which is exciting, because it means there's more of a readership out there checking the comic updates than we knew previously!

Additionally, I'm personally excited by this result because hearing from those quieter members of our reader base is precisely why I wanted to put out this survey. We have a lovely, active community in the discord, but as a side effect that means we're hearing a lot of opinions from just one, disproportionately vocal part of our reader base. My hope with this survey was that we'd get a chance to hear some voices that we don't usually get to interact with... So for all you silent majority readers out there: Hello! Thanks so much for chiming in!

Patreon Membership

Most of our readers don't back the patreon. Which is to be expected! We actually got a few new patrons signing up after the survey was posted, which is absolutely lovely of y'all. (Hi new patrons! 👋)

If you're wondering what the Patreon money gets used for, it's a mixture of funding extras the comic and supporting Lum's future creative endeavors. This year, we used a big chunk of the funding to commission the Love Bomb portraits for the new Cast Page, which were done by the talented Beajrb (go check out their work!) In the future, some of it may be used for commission work related to the comic, and also for the long term goal for Lum to take some time off their day job to draw comics/make games/etc.

We also asked what else people might like to see us do with the patreon. Right now, we post author commentary on pages with about a 2-chapter lag time, and people seem pretty happy with that over all. There were a few requests for bonus character art, pin ups, or character-asks, and we'll keep that in mind going forward. Since all of us are working full time, there's only limited time we have for making additional content, but who knows what the future holds!

Reader Geography

So where in the world are our readers? Well, I I thought it'd be fun to make this cute little map:

...which turned out to be a huge pain in the ass and a little misleading with the color ranges. So here it is another way:

Our reader base is very American-heavy. Honestly a little moreso than I was expecting? Maybe it's the magnetic charisma of Cliff Mason that keeps drawing them in?

But is it a good comic?

According to our readers, it's a 5.35/5 star comic. Make of that what you will :3

Final Thoughts

At the end of the form, we had an open response box for anything else y'all might want to say to us. And let me just say: y'all blew us away. Thank you so much.

So many of the comments were incredibly kind. People told us about characters they connected to, about how excited they were for to see what happens next. Some of them were sweet, some were horny, some of you compared Foreach to some of OUR favorite webcomics, (which was absolutely unreal to read!) Some of you guys wrote whole freakin' essays! I can't recap everything, but please know that we read every single one of them.

Thank you again for joining us on this journey. Here's to a great 2025--and another year of Freachin' it together!

#foreach #webcomics #2024 recap

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