#and gives perfectly fine reasoning to support that was an absolute fucking idiot

[girlbossminerva]

Okay, so I as an individual does not support Juvia Lockser, I would say this on Tiktok but a good percent of my mutuals are GrUvia shippers so I would get cancelled within a day and whatever, and I don't want people coming for me from there.

Like I like Juvia is a water mage, she's pale (makes sense), her aesthetic is cute, I like her in short hair, she's just so pretty with it.

My issue is that she stalks Gray and people will turn a blind eye to it mostly those who are all like, "Anime isn't real life, so it isn't an issue." She has a stash of Gray merch (Not a fan of it) Miss Girl stood outside in the rain bcs he was gone, I think she followed him in the manga against his consent and he caved in and let her stay.

Mashima could have written Gray a love interest who had her own thing but also loves Gray immensely but he makes her only reason for existing is for Gray's milked-to-the-max trauma which Mashima will not let go to save his life, Juvia has friendships with her guild members even with her female guild members which is clouded by the unreasonable jealousy for her beloved "Gray-sama"

Also, the hurricane caused an outage so this is very limited💀

Girl, why do you have gruvia mutuals if they will get up in arms when you point out the truth? /hj

But also thats why i block all people who like the ship and can't behave, which is most shippers actually

Juvia is a character i HATE deeply and also I love her, the thing is that i only love the version I reconstructed in my mind cause the canon one is beyond salvation. To me Juvia up until the Fantasia arc has a lot of potential, she has a cool magic, an interesting aesthetic and a particular character that although very flawed could still turn into something better, because you see we can tell she's an extremely lonely person, her obsessive attachment to Gray stems from that but she has moments with Lucy and Cana during the TOH and Fantasia arcs that show us that she could evolve past her obsession cause she now has a whole group of people who could act as her family. But since Mashima is an absolute idiot, he decided to halt any character development and then tried to make it a "mutually romantic" relationship that exhibits a fuckton of actual irl redflags.

The people who're all "anime isn't real life" need to pick up a fucking book about the ways fiction can and will affect reality, specially a person perceptions. Some people will think that Juvia's stalker tendencies are ok and could try to perform them cause "hey, if it worked for her it could work to make this person fall in love with me" or the contrary could also be true, that someone will ignore the redflags when they're being stalked and emotionally manipulated since Juvia is not, according to the series' morality, a bad character so neither is their stalker right? And it isn't just the stalking, Juvia DID manipulate Gray and take advantage of his trauma and vulnerable state several times to get him to "love" her. Gray "accepting" her affections is never going to be out of a place of actual required love but actually because Juvia has worn him down for years and at this point he might as well just give up trying to stop her, is the same dynamic at play with many male characters (and irl men) where they ask a woman out and pressure her until she gets tired of her no's being ignored but the only difference is that this time is a woman.

And you know what makes me angrier when thinking of possibilities? That I think gruvia ACTUALLY WOULD'VE BEEN A PERFECTLY FINE SHIP IF JUVIA WERE MADE TO BE AN ACTUAL CHARACTER AND NOT A WET PIECE OF CARDBOARD WITH ONE TRAIT.

I mean their elements complement each other!!! And the way they meet? Juvia, a person who's been lonely and depressed most of her life meeting Gray, someone who is so nice and compassionate, who gives her a bit of hope that she isn't meant to just be hated by everyone? IT'S EXCELLENT!! THEY EVEN COULD'VE BEEN BEST FRIENDS GODDAMMIT, MASHIMA JUST NEEDED TO NOT MAKE JUVIA A STALKING MANIPULATOR.

But as it stands i cannot tolerate this ship in any form nor the fans who ship it. The only way I can tolerate Juvia is picturing her as a lesbian who stopped pursuing Gray very early on.

That's it, hope power returns to you soon enough.

#straight outta the mailbox #anti gruvia #anti juvia #gruviugh #honestly if i had a tiktok I'd just complain either way and then turn off replies or however that shit works #can you turn off tiktok replies? #monet visits

[munamania]

there r some ppl on here i would sell to satan for one corn chip for no other reason than they annoy me deeply

#just by existing yes #none of u dw abt it #it sucks bc. if they were not so condescending and let me use a synonym for emphasis #patronizing. about their opinions. and didn’t act like anyone who held a different opinion #and gives perfectly fine reasoning to support that was an absolute fucking idiot #i wouldn’t mind them! would even respect them perhaps! but alas <3 #and i wanna be like idec like it doesn’t matter however comma i would kill. die even to know if part of this post #is abt me dushxhshxhsbxhshd bc at this point like. why #and the ways it’s phrased is just so. like. you don’t get to act like i’m fucking stupid for an observation #that you disagree with and happen to be a part of! lmfao. u don’t get to act like i’m silly stupid just because u don’t like it #you don’t get to have an opinion on anything that i do etc. anyway #🙄 #abby talks #it doesn’t matter it’s so beyond petty it’s like whatever #but just. damn baby am i still on ur mind like that 💖

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

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general taglist (italics for people i could not tag):  @aomineavenue @intheawks​ @deltahemm​ @bap-kingdom @shegoeshexing @brinnnx @crescentsteel​ @ dokidokisama @smellssharpies​ @dearhajime​ @plutoxxxworld​ @kritiiiii​ @ muppetz @ iscreamtea @rizzyrisso​ @makeitrainonsomehoes​ @maraudusk​ @kybabi​ @tsumue​ @thischickwritessometimes​ @angrylittleriri​

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #anime #manga #fluff #humor #hq atsumu #fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #inarizaki #hq #miya osamu

[obeiii-mee]

How will the bros react to MC self-doubting themselves? Like saying bad things about them or can't be serious someone give them compliment.

Supportive demon bois coming right up! Sorry I took so long to write this anon! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, thank you all for the love on my previous posts!)

————————————

The Brothers with an MC who self doubts themselves:

Lucifer:

-As the embodiment of pride itself, Lucifer has an overwhelming amount of confidence, almost all the damn time

-So, he was flabbergasted to learn that you weren’t the same

-He always insisted that you aren’t anything but perfect, yet you always seemed to brush the compliments off with a shrug and an awkward smile

-Well, shit, we can’t have that

-Lucifer just got 10x more serious about the matter

-He pulls a really stupid concerned face whenever you insult yourself and he looks more and more like a 48 year old man/dad each time it happens

-He, as of late, increased the number of pet names he has for you and the amount of compliments he gives you each day

-He refuses to let you talk badly about yourself anywhere, at any point in time and encourages every little step you take towards bettering yourself like crazy

- Lucifer wants to prove to you that you are an absolute ray of sunshine and he will go to any lengths to do just that (do not ask)

-He’s even more affectionate than usual which confuses just about everyone in the House of Lamentation, yourself included

-His brothers are feeling a disturbance in the force and they don’t know how to feel about it

-You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he fell as angel and Lucifer is ready to do whatever he can to help you realise that

Mammon:

-“You’re an idiot!”

-“*Sigh*, I know.”

-“Wha-Wait! Y-you can’t say thAT!”

-The Great Mammon is seriously worried about his human

-Being the dense motherfucker he is (i still love him tho) it took him weeks to realise you’re not all that confident in yourself

-At some point in your relationship, he jokingly called you annoying and you just went “Yeah I’ve been told. Sorry.”

-His jaw literally dropped and he almost cried

-He would have choked if he was drinking something

-Tsundere Mammon has gone bye bye and here comes the cuddling teddy bear that is your boyfriend

-He also doesn’t have as much self love for himself as he sometimes pretends to have so he’s kinda in the same boat

-Which means your boat is leaking and you’re perfectly fine with it while he’s panicking and trying to throw water overboard with his hands

-His brothers call him an idiot a lot but he’s a very sociable guy with people skills that he uses all the time in order to coax you out of your self pitiying shell

-Will whine every time you call yourself ‘useless’ or disagree with his compliments because what the hell, you’re literally the most gorgeous being ever let me love youuuu

-When it comes to you and your happiness, he ain’t fucking around. He will snarl at anyone that even looks at you in the wrong way

-Did that to Lucifer once, guess a what happened

-You’ve definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that he is loveable and not a good for nothing scum

-So now it’s your turn!

-Let him kiss your insecurities away please

-Your presence makes him feel wanted so he wants the same for you!

Levi:

-Well then

-It takes two to tango ya know?

-He is the KING of self loathing and no confidence whatsoever in anything he does so every time you put yourself down, he counters it with a self deprecating insult as well

-“I suck.”

-“Nah, you’re pretty awesome normie. I’m the shut in, disgusting otaku who can barely set foot outside his bedroom without having an anxiety attack.”

-It’s like you’re trying to outdo the other on who is worse

-Truth is, he really admires you, especially knowing you chose to date him; an anime nerd with no social life and no communication skills whatsoever

-It hurts a bit, every time he builds up the courage to actually compliment you and you not taking it seriously

-That’s because he recognises that he’s the same and just as harsh on himself as you are

-Levi knows self hatred is something that takes time to demolish

-But you are his Henry after all (also his partner but whatevs)

-He’s not gonna leave you hanging when you need him the most

-He also gradually stops calling you a normie as your relationship progresses, though it still slips through every now and again

-Basically, the first time he realised that you think negatively of yourself, his immediate reaction was: Haha lmao relatable

-But now, every time it happens, he gets all serious

-Puts his controller down and everything, it’s like witnessing a very rare phenomenon and it’s creepy as shit

-He’s also made an effort to be more physically affection though he is kinda shy about it because damn it he just wants to hug you every time you speak badly of yourself

-Probably writes a list at some point stating all the reasons why you are better than him and Ruri chan combined, it’s rlly sweet

Satan:

-He’s a bit curious as to where that mentality has come from

-What triggered you to be so self doubtful?

-He’s basically your psychotherapist and asks you a lot of questions trying to find different causes and solutions for your issues

-Honestly, he puts so much effort into trying to understand, reading books about it from the human realm and whatever he can find in order to help you

-He scrunches up his nose every time you call yourself an idiot or anything of the sort

-Satan knows that insisting you’re wonderful won’t exactly help you overcome this problem of yours

-But that doesn’t stop him from doing it

-It’s not like you can ignore his comments because he will keep complimenting you until you accept them

-He also repeats a lot of pick up lines but that’s just part of being his partner

-What do you mean you’re worthless?!! He would literally give away all of his books and his hatred for Lucifer in exchange for your well being!

-Satan is possibly the smartest out of all of his brothers, so he uses a tactical approach on this one

-Direct affectionate gestures don’t work on you so he’s gonna be more subtle

-Would slightly hint that you are amazing every time you do something for him, like fetching him a book or something

-“Ah thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you love.”

-He’s a lot smoother than he gives himself credit for

-He just appreciates your existence and that there’s someone out there that he doesn’t need to be act hostile or fake toward

-Satan is ready to sit down and listen to you talk about your insecurities for hours on end

-You would quietly say something bad about yourself and he would run through the House of Lamentation before bursting into the room you are in, shouting ‘No! That’s wrong!’ (going Danganronpa on your asses)

-“Welp, I fucked up again. I can’t do anything right.”

-And then, in the distance you hear boss music starting

Asmo:

-*Shocked Gasp*

-How could you say such things about yourself???? Is that even leGAl?

-Of course, the literally prince of Lust, with all of his narcissism, has never experienced things like ‘self doubt’ of ‘bad self esteem’

-Pfft, the fuck is that?

-He only uses the most positive of words when he describes himself

-So obviously he almost falls off the bed when he hears you insulting yourself for the first time

-But ya know, that would leave bruises on his beautiful skin

-“Oh darling, you’re not annoying or a moron! You’re not anything like Mammon!”

-That was a below belt fatal hit, press f in the chat for the second eldest

-At some point, he just genuinely believes you’ve been spending too much time with Levi and that his negativity started rubbing off on you

-But then you tell him you’ve always been like this and he almost has a crisIS

-He’s like ‘Haha, no, we’re going to get a spa day out tomorrow and a few shopping sprees so I can prove to you that you are magnificent in every way imaginable.’

-Asmo loves pampering you in general but on the days he sees you feeling extra sorry for yourself, he goes above and beyond

-Gets very hurt when you brush off his compliments because he just wants you to accept the fact that you’re beautiful

-He’s like a supportive mom lmao, whenever you’re feeling self doubtful, he goes “You’re doing great sweetie, keep it up I’m really proud of you.”

-It’s up to you to decide whether that helps or not

-He’s such a sweetheart in reality, it’s hard to remember that he’s supposed to be horny all the time

-Well he is but that’s not the point, you’re way more important

-Asmo is so much fun to write cuz I can make him so dramatic it’s hilarious

Beel:

-Oh no :(

-He gets very sad everytime you self deprecate yourself

-You can’t do it with him in the room because he’s going to start crying and give you this kicked puppy stare, it will break your heart

-Beel kinda comes over and goes “If I give you some of my food will you please stop saying bad things about yourself? Because it’s not true.”

-Well you can’t say no to that face

-He feels like it’s his fault you’re this self doubtful even though you’ve tried to explain to him you’ve always been like this

-He goes crying to his twin half the time because he doesn’t know what to do

-“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop it! Fucking hell, I’m such a fucking klutz.”

-“Sniffle no you’re not.”

-He’s like, giving you large portions of his food now

-Because food makes him happy so he wants you to be happy too

-🙂

-His brothers go in shock every time because the only other person Beel has ever shared his food with before was Belphie

-Physical affection goes through the roof with this guy

-Bone crushing hugs btw

-Your self worth is so immeasurable with him, you can’t even measure it

-W h o a

-I’m being serious, don’t talk badly about yourself in front of him unless you want to be hugged into next week

-You are a literal angel in his eyes, of course he thinks highly of you

-He’s just hoping his presence isn’t making your self esteem worse, that’s the thing that keeps him up at night

-Idk why but he does think that he is a bad influence on your mental well being since he’s a demon

-Beel gives you compliments all the time and it confuses him when you laugh them off uncertainly because he wasn’t joking or lying??

-He’s always supportive of your choices and encourages you to be more confident

-The same way you show your support everytime you come to his games to cheer him on

-Overall, he just wants you to feel special and appreciated

-Because you deserve it

-IneedmyselfaBeel

Belphie:

-He feels like absolute shit

-Becuase he’s well aware he‘s called you a few...not so nice words in the past

-Back then, he only thought he meant everything he said but now that he’s hearing you accept his insults and actually repeating them yourself?

-It hurts his brain and he wants to smash his head against all four walls of the room for being such a cretin

-You do tell him it’s not exactly his fault you think so badly of yourself

-But he still believes he fueled it

-So now he needs to fix it

-He’s tried everything and I mean everything

-It’s kinda working, slow progress is made which he’s really happy about but you know, it’s gonna take a while

-He finally settles on physical affection as the best way to communicate his gratefulness for you being youself

-Oh, he wasn’t hugging you before? He is now, get your ass next to him and let him cuddle you

-Handholding has increased by 69% in the last month, sorry for the loss of your right hand with how much he squeezes it

-Sometimes, he can’t help but a throw an insult at you in a playful manner, because he’s an asshole

-But he always makes sure you understand that he was just joking

-He’s such a little shit, you would be having a chat with him and you would subtly drop a insult at yourself hoping he wouldn’t notice

-But then he stops dead in his tracks, kisses you, says “Shut up, you’re stunning” and then he goes right back to the previous conversation like nothing happened

-Accept his compliments damn it otherwise he will continue to bug you about it for the rest of the day

-He’s an eboy and he’s a dickhead a times, but he just goes soft for you tbh

-If you’re feeling really bad about yourself, he won’t even say anything

-He will just big spoon you for the next 24 hours, good luck going to the bathroom or any meals during that time

-Because once you’re in his grip, you’re not getting out that easily

-He gets so pissy if anyone says something even slightly negative about you to your face

-One time, a random demon called you stupid in one of the classes at RAD and he was like ‘bïtch excuse me what?’

-Snapped his head around at him and everything

-He would have done something worse but he was lazy and feeling really petty

-So Belphie kicked him in the privates from under his desk like a damn spoiled brat

-And then he turned his head back to you, all smiles and rainbows and puppies

-I’m simping so hard for a fictional character wtf

-I had to write more protective Belphie cuz I can’t find anything of the sort anymore and I need flUFF

(Haha, I don’t know what this post is, my writing has officially taken a shit lmao. Sorry this took so long to finish, I kept going back to edit all of them)

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #🌸 comfort #☂️ demon brothers

[morganaspendragonss]

the lovers that went wrong

after the incident at the market, tk finds comfort - and more than a little common sense - in a talk with his mom

or: if the show isn’t going to give us gwyneth and tk bonding, then by god i’m going to write it

ao3 | 1.4k | 2.04 spoilers

Maybe TK should feel guilty about how he acted at the market. He doubts he made a good impression on Carlos's parents, but he's not sure if that matters anymore. He just... He couldn't bring himself to pretend. He couldn't walk around acting like they were just friends - acting like he wasn't hurting.

So he'd lied and said he had to meet his dad, then left the market as quickly as possible, too late realising that he'd taken half of their groceries with him. Now he's standing on the curb, stupidly staring down at the bag and thinking about how he's ruined Carlos's plans for the night.

Well. Technically, they had been their plans, but while that's clearly not happening now, Carlos might still have wanted to go through with them. With his parents, maybe. He can't now that TK's absconded with half the ingredients. He ought to return them. 

(He won’t. He can’t.)

TK starts walking, speeding up until he’s almost running, desperate as he is to put as much distance as possible between him and the market (between him and carlos). He barely pays attention to other people on the street, probably earning himself several irritated looks, but he doesn’t care. The market isn’t too far from his dad’s place, and all TK needs right now is to shut himself away for a while, away from anyone’s prying eyes.

It’s not until he steps inside and is greeted by the sound of several voices coming from the patio that he remembers his dad had planned a gathering at the house. He freezes, wondering if it’s possible to sneak out again, which is (of course) exactly when his parents decide to round the corner, a confused frown appearing on both their faces.

“TK?” Owen says. “What are you doing back? I thought you were spending the day with Carlos.”

“I, um.” TK swallows roughly. “I was. We… Something came up. I forgot you were doing this. I’ll go.”

“No, hold on a second -”

“Really, Dad,” TK interrupts, holding a placating hand up. “It’s all good. Sorry to have interrupted.”

He doesn’t wait for his dad to respond, turning on his heel and going back outside. He manages two steps away from the house before stopping, realising that there’s nowhere else he really wants to be.

No. That’s a lie. But the one place he wants to be is the one place he absolutely cannot go.

TK slumps down on the porch, resting his head against the railings. How has he fucked this up so badly? He’d really thought they were doing well, but clearly something’s wrong - else why would Carlos have lied? He doesn’t understand, and a part of him doesn’t want to. TK’s not sure if he can take one more heartbreak.

The front door opens again, and when TK turns, his mom is standing there, arms folded. 

“All good, huh?” she asks, one eyebrow cocked, though her tone betrays her worry. TK turns away from her, hanging his head.

She sighs, then comes and sits next to him, one arm coming around his shoulders. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” She pulls away slightly to look at him, and TK knows he’s not hiding anything. Even so, he waits a while before responding; he and his mom have never been ones for deep conversations. Usually, that’s his dad’s forte, but even then, he’s never felt entirely comfortable. 

“His parents don’t know about me,” he admits quietly, all the pain from the market rushing back. “We bumped into them earlier and Carlos… He told them I was his friend.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She squeezes him gently, rubbing his shoulder and TK closes his eyes, leaning in to the gesture. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, though.”

TK nods, staring at the ground. “Yeah. Me. I’m not good enough for him.”

“TK -”

“No, Mom, I’m not,” he insists, pulling away from her. “I never was. You don’t know what a mess I was at the beginning - I put him through so much, and he still stayed even though I didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve someone like him, and maybe he’s realising it. I’ve mucked it up again, just like last time.”

Tears burn the back of his eyes and TK lets them fall, past the point of caring what his mom must be thinking. “I thought things were finally going well for us,” he half-whispers. “Guess I was wrong.”

There’s a brief silence, then his mom sighs heavily. “Tyler Kennedy Strand,” she says, “that’s the biggest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard.”

TK looks up in surprise, meeting her unimpressed gaze. “What?”

She shakes her head. “You and your father. Peas in a pod, I swear. Can’t you see how much that boy cares for you?”

“I- I don’t -”

“TK, come on.” She gives him a small smile, patting his shoulder. “Any idiot can tell. You just… You need to give him time. You said it yourself, things were weird at the start, and you have only been dating for, what, four months?”

TK nods. “Officially, yeah.”

“There you go, then. That’s not a long time, TK; maybe he’s not ready yet.”

“But -”

“Have you even talked to Carlos about any of this?” She arches an eyebrow, giving him one of her lawyer looks.

He flushes as he shakes his head. “I sort of just...left.”

She looks at him in disbelief, then mutters something about him and his dad that TK doesn’t quite catch. Her expression, when she meets his eyes again, is one of fond exasperation. “You realise he’s probably just as upset about all of this as you are, don’t you?”

TK bites his lip. He hadn’t, in all honesty, though he feels guilty about it now. He’d been so caught up in his own feelings that he hadn’t stopped to think about Carlos - which really just amounts to yet another reason why TK isn’t even remotely good enough for him.

His mom sighs deeply. “You need to talk to him. Now.”

TK gives her a doubtful look, then pulls his phone out, only for her to smack his wrist. 

“In person, TK!” she exclaims. 

“I can’t go over!”

“Why not?”

“B-Because,” TK splutters, “what if his parents are there? I don’t want to put him in that position again.”

“Fair point,” she allows. She purses her lips, considering, then points to TK’s left. “What’s in the bag?”

TK looks down, surprised; he’d honestly forgotten about that. “Groceries,” he says. “We were planning a dinner for tonight.” Pain flashes through him again at the reminder of their plans, now completely in tatters. 

His mom, however, is smiling. “There’s your excuse. If his parents are there, you can say you were just dropping them off; if they’re not, you can get over yourself and talk to the boy.”

It makes sense, TK will give her that. But he can’t stop the doubt lingering at the back of his mind. “This is a terrible idea.”

“I’m your mother,” she says. “I have no bad ideas.”

TK laughs. He knows that she’s right, that he has to talk to Carlos, and he supposes that the sooner he gets it done, the better. Ripping the band-aid off, so to speak. 

“Thanks, Mom.” He smiles and she smiles back, stroking a hand through his hair. “Can you just do me a favour and not tell Dad? I don’t want to worry him.”

She frowns. “He’s going to ask.”

“Tell him anything,” he begs. “Just not this. Please?”

Gwyneth sighs, then nods reluctantly. “Alright. As long as you promise me one thing. However this turns out, even if the worst does happen, don’t let it destroy you. You’re a good man, TK, and you do deserve good things, even if you don’t believe it. Your dad and I will support you, whatever happens, and you have the rest of your team as well. Don’t bottle it up, okay?”

TK swallows, a lump suddenly in his throat. “Okay,” he manages.

She smiles and drops a kiss on the top of his head, standing up. “Now, go on. It’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak. His mom goes back in the house and TK pulls out his phone again, ordering an Uber before he can convince himself that this is a mistake. It doesn’t arrive for another fifteen minutes, so he sneaks back inside (thankfully avoiding everyone this time around) and quickly changes, his mind racing too fast to be able to sit still outside.

He has to fix this. Or at least get answers. 

He’ll never forgive himself if he lets Carlos go.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star spoilers #911ls #lone star #tk strand #gwyneth morgan #carlos reyes #tk x carlos #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige #tuserjamie

[kweebtrash]

Pay Attention, Dumbass

Pairing: Demon!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Smut/ Comedy?? Maybe?

Features: demonic fingering

Summary: two idiot roommates accidentally summon two ancient demons. Forced into a contract, they only had two choices; die or make a deal with the devil. The most logical answer was to make them their boyfriends of course (this is lowkey a bad slice of life hentai, i swear). The demons know nothing about the human world and have to deal with “lessons” from their human girlfriends.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist  Johnny Version Here

-----

"You haven't moved in hours. Don't you do anything else?"

I dug into the chip bag that laid on my desk and grabbed a handful to shove into my mouth. "Of course i do," I said through the mush of chips. "I went to the bathroom."

Jae sighed. "Not what i meant. Do you ever leave your room?"

I shrugged and downed some of my soda. "Yeah. I go to work sometimes."

"Where do you even work at?"

"A bar." I went back to clicking through attacks and swerving around opponents. "Guys, come on, come on, come on!" I said into the headphone and mic set i had on. "Someone head towards the point! At least start trying to take it over!"

"A bar?" He asked, confused. "What is that?"

"Its uh..." I drifted off as i propelled myself forward and released my ultimate attack, sending my mecha exploding in different directions. I quickly reloaded myself into the machine and continued my rampage of gunshots. "Like uh... drinks. Liquor."

"Libations?"

I snorted at the stupid word. "Yeah, whatever. That."

"And that's the only time you leave?" He continued asking.

"What the fuck is this? Twenty questions?" I grabbed another handful of chips. "On the left! Move out the way!" I grumbled at my friends who were playing online with me.

"I'm just curious since you don't have the capability to rid yourself of the sin of sloth."

I glared over at him as he was reclined back on my bed, arms behind his head, and torso on full display as he refused to wear a shirt (not that i was complaining). "I do things! I just like playing video games more! Sometimes i go to school too!"

"And what proof do you have of this because i never see it."

"My never ending debt and crippling anxiety." One of my online friends asked who i was talking too and i sucked my teeth. "My boyfriend is being annoying." Queue the kissy noises and jokes of the very mature men i gamed with.

"Oh? Im annoying?" Jae grumbled. "Whats really annoying is seeing you rot away while im forced to stay by your side. Hours and hours of boredom and still im trapped in the confines of this ridiculous home with nothing to do."

I set my headset down as the round finished and turned my desk chair towards him. "Are you upset that im not paying attention to you?"

He sat up quickly and scoffed. "Please. What do i need the attention of a human for?"

"You certainly want it when you're horny." I giggled. "Heh...horny...you have horns also so it's...anyway. Are you being a baby because you want attention?"

"I am not an infant. You are infuriating. Of course i had to get stuck with you."

"Oohhh, thats how it is. Yep, definitely being a baby, now with a temper tantrum."

Jae's eyes glowered and his claws dug into my mattress. "There are so many things i want to do to you right now."

"Ooh daddy." I snorted and put my headset back on. "Sounds kinky."

"Which is it? Am i an infant or a father?! I dont understand!"

I sighed and stood up. "Do you want to try playing with me?" I gestured at the now vacant spot of my gaming chair.

Jae stared at me then the seat. "Play that ridiculous thing?"

"Yeah," i shrugged and looked down at my feet. "It's something i like to do and you're my boyfriend sooo...i guess...i mean..." I twiddled with my thumbs as my cheeks began to warm up. "It'd be cool if you tried to like some of the stuff i do."

"Is that what boyfriends do?"

"Y-yeah...sorta. Look do you want to or not?" I huffed in frustration.

He stood up and made his way over, glaring down at me with his humanized yet still terrifying eyes. "Fine. I will try it."

I couldn't help the dorky smile that beamed across my face. "Ok, cool. Sit down."

He placed himself in the seat and i sat on his lap then scooted the chair closer to the desk. I positioned his fingers on the designated keys for offense and defense as well as the computer mouse. "Here, why don't i just guide your fingers the first few rounds so you get the hang of it?"

"Whatever."

The smile started to fade as i covered his hands with mine that seemed to dwarf in comparison. "Put your stupid claws away. You cant game right with your pretty manicure."

He growled like an irritated dog and slid the claws back into his skin. With his back pressed to mine, he ended up resting his chin on my shoulder, watching as i joined a new round. His somewhat chubby cheek felt warm against mine and i willed myself not to kiss it. It wasn't like he was going to respond anyway. He was cold hearted in every sense of the word, even when he fucked it almost seemed like a chore. It still was amazing and i loved every second of it but the distant feelings was strong. Of course it wasn't a great idea to make a demon your damn boyfriend but there was rarely a time where i made a smart decision.

Deciding to suck it up and just concentrate i pressed Jae's fingers down as i helped launch attacks and maneuver us around the screen. "This is nothing but hectic destruction " he commented.

"Yep, pretty much."

"And you enjoy this?"

"Absolutely."

"I am pleased by this." I felt a slight nip at my neck as he purred into my ear. "Very pleased."

"Pleased that i like shooting people and destroying things?"

"Exactly. Its quite...sexy."

"Oh my god. You're a dork!" I snorted. "Its just a damn game, weirdo." I pressed his fingers down harder, not wanting to slow down and ruin my winning streak. "Keep up."

"Well when you're crushing my fingers its hard to do so."

"Just follow me. You dont even have to move them."

"I would like to move them but-"

"Shh, give me a sec. Bastards are on my fucking ass! God i hate when they just gang up on you for no FUCKING REASON!" I screamed at the monitor. "Such dicks. Fuckin' dicks."

"Your mouth is filthy."

"Yeah you said that when it was full of cum too."

"Hm...that was also enjoyable." Another nip to my neck, this time followed by small sucks and kisses. "Continue using your filthy mouth and destroying things. This at least is semi entertaining now."

"Glad you think so. Quit kissing my neck, its distracting."

"Distracting?! You enjoy that! You said it this morning. Specifically 'Jae'," He faked a slightly high pitched moan. "'Keep kissing my neck, oh god'."

I flushed with embarrassment and rammed my elbow into his chest. "I already have to deal with dicks online i dont need go deal with you too."

"I suppose you wouldn't want to deal with this then?"

I felt him press his hips against my ass. The grey sweatpants he had on left nothing to the imagination and i swallowed hard as my concentration wavered. "S-stop." I whimpered.

"I dont think i will." One hand left the mouse and pressed against my stomach to keep me in place. "Support that. I will control these buttons."

I pressed my lips together and simply nodded. How he had the grace to continue slight grinds against me i didn't know but i was responding to them eagerly. I arched my back and wiggled my ass every time he rolled forward, creating a sinful friction between us. My eyes drifted from the screen momentarily to see that his fingers were working perfectly over the keys as if he had played for years. "You're...actually winning."

"What? As if its hard?" He tsked. "Humans have simple minds and-WHY IS THIS MAN PUNCHING ME FROM THE SKY?"

I froze our sensual movements to cackle loudly. "That's just Doomfist. He's so OP and stupid."

"OP?"

"Overpowered, meaning there's no reason for him to even be here."

"Im going to destroy him completely until he can never return."

"They all respawn, Jae. That's how the game continues."

"Not if I can help it. I want that mongrel dead. Get that clicky thing ready. I'm aiming to destroy."

"You think I'm sexy when I want to kill things but I think you're cute, you know that?" I turned towards him to press a kiss to his cheek yet my lips connected with his when he moved.

"I am not cute....but you are...or whatever." I wondered if that tint on his cheeks was real or just my imagination.

I smiled to myself anyway, pleased with his compliment and his valiant effort to enjoy the same things I did. He was truly acting like a boyfriend-one that felt genuine even if he crawled up from hell. Just before, he was complaining about how never moved but we stayed like this for a couple more hours, even sharing snacks and competing with my online friends. There came a point in the night, though, when searching for a server with an open game slowed tremendously. Minutes ticked by and still nothing. Jae's drumming of his fingers against the wooden desk in impatience was starting to drive me crazy. "Doing that isn't going to make it go faster, you know."

"This is about as interesting as watching you play on that small screen."

"We've gone over this. Its a phone, a cell phone, a portable phone."

"Yes, yes. That stupid thing with all the colors. Its like this stupid thing." He pointed at the computer screen. "Only smaller."

"You seem to enjoy the big stupid thing judging by how many kill streaks you got."

His lips tweaked into a smirk. "That's because im an expert killer. None of them deserved to live."

"You did get my rank up and some loot boxes so i guess i should thank you."

"Yes, bask in my glory and show me how grateful you are." His hand that had remained around my waist for most of our play time started creeping its way to my thighs.

"Are you wanting me to show you how grateful i am or are you trying to show me how desperate you are?" I snickered.

"I am not desperate. Since the stupid game is not cooperating im just trying to inject some extra curricular activities."

"Such as?"

He set his head on my shoulder again and i felt his fangs dig in deeper into my neck, making me let out a drawn out whine. "J-jae!"

He chuckled from deep within his throat as i felt his tongue trail from the column of my neck up to my earlobe. "Such as...watching you squirm when i add the slightest of pressure," Two of his fingers slid between the junction of my thighs and pressed firmly against the center of my shorts. "Here."

The tips of his fingers began gliding against the fabric, the soft cotton adding the smallest amount of friction against my clit. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as my leg began to bounce. I wanted to wait for a new game, my win streak was too precious to me but Jae was something else. Trying not to make it too obvious i adjusted myself on his lap, spreading my legs a little wider. His fingers garnered more room but he didnt move them under the fabric. Instead he kept torturing me with slow movements, occasionally pushing into the most sensitive areas. "Who's enjoying the attention now?" He teased.

Suddenly a little ping from my computer signaled that a game had finally been found. My attention quickly shifted and i put my headset back on and got into position. Jae reeled back in confusion. "Are you really going to continue to play?"

"Well...yeah. I mean it took forever to get into this game. I dont wanna lose it."

"Hey, can you be healer?" I heard my friend say into my ear piece.

"Fuck you! Im not going to be healer! You be healer, you twat waffle!"

Jae let out a heavy and annoyed sigh. I almost felt bad until i was lagging behind everyone else. I had to-

I felt his finger finally move beneath my shorts and press into my hole gently. I had to admit that he had already gotten me worked up enough to provide him with some lubrication and he slid in easily. "C-cut it out." I stammered.

"Oh no, dont mind me. Your game is more important. Keep going."

"I just mean-ah-ahh!" I tried to snap my mouth shut before my moan slipped out for fear of my friends hearing but it was too late. Jae had moved the seat of my shorts aside and pumped his finger faster, occasionally curling it an inch or two from my entrance. I covered the mic part of the headset and glared back at him. "If you dont s-stop-"

I snapped my thighs shut as he added another finger, the 'come here' motions growing stronger. Immediately, he landed a harsh tap to my outer thigh, a small growl floating in the tense air around us. "I said keep going."

"Well i would if you just-HEY! MOTHERFUCKER! I LIKED THESE SHORTS!" I looked down at the center of my shorts that had now been torn open because of his reappearing claws. "What's wrong with you?!"

Without a word he grabbed onto my ankles and set my legs up on the desk, keeping them spread. The clawed hand snaked its way to my throat and with the slightest pressure i could feel them digging in. It wasn't enough to hurt but certainly enough to make my entire body shudder with electricity. "I-i cant reach the keyboard." I whispered.

He scooted the chair closer to the desk, making my legs almost rest on it fully. "Wheres that tappy thing you have?"

"Tappy thing?"

"Where you move the sticks."

"You mean a controller?"

"You can plug it in right?" He questioned as his thrusting resumed which made my mind mush in a second.

"U-uh yeah-um its uh...d-draw-drawer!"

He let my throat go and allowed me to reach into my desk drawer and grab my gaming controller. I plugged it into my computer's usb port as my friends argued about me not pulling my weight and being static. I lied about my game lagging and shifted the mic up so i sounded muffled and they wouldn't be able to hear how much if a slut Jae made me. "There. Now you can play. Keep up that win streak. Have to get the gold and boxes, right? Have to play with your friends and ignore me, right?" He nipped at my ear as his fingers slipped out of me to rub circles against my clit. "Have to beg me to let you cum, right?

"P-please dont make me do that!"

"See? You're begging already. What a good girl you are."

My entire body tensed at those two words and i let my controller go for a moment to grab his hand and press his fingers back into me. "Keep going. I want you to keep going."

"I could but i dont have to. Maybe i can use the tappy thingy instead. More people I can kill." He jerked his fingers away and pushed them against my lips. "Clean these off for me. Dont want to get it dirty, do i?"

"Jaaaeeeee," i whined and leaned in for a kiss but he turned his head away.

"Clean. Them."

Reluctantly, i swallowed his fingers down, lapping between and tasting myself. He tested my gag reflex by moving them to the back of my throat but pulling away when it became to much. It was nothing but entertainment for him, a game of cat and mouse that made me feel doomed. "You know you love being inside me." I panted as my mouth was now freed. "I can ride-"

"Oh, how unfortunate. You died. Now we have to wait to return. You're too distracted, Ivy. A shame, truly."

I didn't care anymore. In the few seconds i had between my respawning i stood up and turned towards him, pulling his sweatpants down to stay around his knees. He had no qualms about his erection. I had felt it, of course, but it was like he paid it no mind, like it wasn't an inconvenience and he enjoyed teasing me instead. Was it another way to give me a taste of my own medicine? What a bastard! "Come here." I tried to sound as sultry as possible but he just laughed and took the controller from me.

"Lets see if i can figure this out now." Jae looked at the buttons and pressed at a few before moving the joy sticks to test them out. "Strange but i believe I can-"

It was my turn to cut him off. I lifted his head and focused on his eyes, angered by the smirk still on his lips. "Fuck me."

"Nope."

That wasn't the answer i wanted.

He craned his head to the side to look at the monitor. "Can you move? Im trying to play here."

"Shut up! You didn't even care about playing before!" I pouted as my cheeks flushed both in annoyance and embarrassment. I sat back on his lap anyway, chest to chest, and guided him inside me. Not a sound from him or even a look. He was focused on fighting now which made me want to punch him but i figured if i fucked myself on him long enough i could break his resolve. I gripped onto the back of the chair and started working up and down his length, adding kisses to his neck in between whimpers. "Jae...come on..."

"Ooh, double kill."

"I swear to god! If you dont-"

"No god, just demons."

"Yeah, you're acting like a demon. A demon asshole who wont even pay attention to his girlfriend! I cant believe you're doing this!"

He finally looked at me, dead in the eyes and it made me nervous. "It doesn't feel good, does it?"

Ok, ok. So i had learned my lesson. It was a two way street and maayybeee i wasn't being the best partner but i never figured he wanted anything from me. He never expressed a lot if affection or wonderment at what i did throughout my day. How was i supposed to know? I guess with his lack of knowledge about human things he truly had nothing to do unless i was guiding him. Fuck, now i really felt bad. What a buzzkill. "Im sorry...i understand how you feel now. I didn't think you cared. I know were just together because of the contract. I thought you still hated humans and didn't want to exist beside them."

"I do hate humans but you're my human now. Unfortunately, i have to rely on you and its maddening to be stuck here. In hell i did hundreds of things. I had a job. I had meetings with other demons. I planned wars, participated in real battles, created weapons. I was someone. Here, im nothing but a prisoner."

"Nonono! Please dont feel like that...i dont want to make you feel like that. Please..." I felt my eyes watering and i quickly buried my face in the crook of his neck. He sighed and tossed the controller on the table and shut my laptop. He kicked off the rest of his pants and with ease picked me up and led me to the bed.

"Dont ever speak of this. Not to Johnny, not to Xan. No one, understand?"

I nodded quickly as my back hit the mattress and he stayed above me. "You will do what i say just as much as im forced to do as you say. Love me unconditionally. Break me free from this world and show me why i shouldn't kill everyone in it."

I swallowed hard and nodded again. "I promise. I promise you everything."

"Good. Secondly...i would like to do battle against you in those games."

I couldn't help the giggle i let out. I didn't expect him to say something like that after being so serious. "Oh? You think you can beat me?"

"Im a strategist and a warrior. Of course i can."

"Oh, ok. You play a few rounds of Overwatch and suddenly you're the master. Just dont say anything when i kick your ass, bitch."

He chuckled deeply and snapped his hips without warning. He had still remained inside me and the sudden movement made me cry out loud. "Bring it on then. We'll see who's the better warrior here. Now," his eyes shifted into pure darkness and his fangs glistened with temptation. "Lets see how fast you can give in."

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun nct 127 #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun demon au #demon au #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #asian fanfic #asian fanfiction #nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct fluff #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fanfiction #nct jaehyun #nct 127 jaehyun

[badmcuposts]

Mini-Tony

For: @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Gifted to: @floweryfran

Warnings: none?

-

“Tones, drop the act.” Rhodey ordered vaguely, storming into the lab as if he owned the place.

“What act?” Tony asked, less confused and more dismissive about the assertion that he would dare put up an act. That would take a lot of work he didn’t want to put in. The man kind of had a planet to constantly defend, you know.

Rhodey sighed, sitting down and putting on his serious face. “We all know you cloned yourself.” He spoke.

At the moment, Tony thought it had been a joke, since it so obviously had to be. But, his friend only continued until it all became far too alarming for Tony to ignore.

“I mean, really, Tony? This is a major federal crime! You know you could get the FBI called on you for this? Why would you be so reckless? How could you? It’s... it’s mad! You’ve really lost it, man. Come on, just let it go!”

Tony stared at his former MIT roommate, dazed and confused as he contemplated the sanity of the man before him. What was Rhodey on?

“Okay,” he began, “not entirely sure how I’m supposed to break this to you, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

In a shock, Rhodey’s body twitched, a visceral reaction to what Tony saw as a completely normal response to being accused of human cloning. “You... you didn’t clone yourself?” He questioned idiotically.

“No, I didn’t fucking clone myself!” Tony relented as he began to sardonically laugh, “What would make you honestly believe that I would do such a thing?”

At that, his friend went quiet. Tony watched the shy blush creep onto Rhodey’s cheeks, a deep and red tint running down his neck like a historically accurate thanksgiving. The colonel’s brown eyes looked up into the sky, as if searching for a way out of the situation on the celling.

Abruptly, he mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“What?” The billionaire in the room tentatively asked, still laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Was he okay?

“Peter...” Rhodey murmured again, now audible, whether he wanted to be or not. That’s it, Tony thought, he’s lost it.

“Did... did you say Peter?” He asked again, more to himself than the other man. There was no way, absolutions no way, that Rhodey had actually just said the kid’s name.

“Yes! Peter, okay?”

Tony stood, shell shocked. “What... what does m-the kid have to do with you accusing me of breaking federal law and cloning myself in my private lab without shame?”

“It’s just- god it sounds so stupid now- he’s like... a mini-Tony.” Rhodey relented, his blush deepening quickly under the scrutinizing gaze of his best friend.

“A mini-Tony?” The man repeated, monotonic and blank in the face.

“Yes!” Rhodey shouted, “Stop tormenting me, you doofus. It’s a perfectly reasonable concern.” At the zenith of his mockery, Tony dies down, suddenly more interested in the how.

“You... you noticed that the kid and I have a few vague similarities and decided it meant I had cloned myself? Are you okay?” He asked.

Rhodey gasped, and initiated a debate nor mortal could ever be prepared to wage.

“It is not a few vague similarities and you know it! He’s exactly like you. The curly brown hair, the deep eyes, the general figure, the-”

“You’re describing every American male of Italian descent within a five-hundred mile radius.”

“It’s not just the looks, though. He acts just like you! I mean, his IQ has to be-”

“If you dare accuse my intellect of being equal to that of a sixteen year old child I am going to lose it.”

“Oh, stop being so grumpy about it! You know I’m right.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY finally interrupted, saving them from their fall from grace over such a trivial disagreement, “It appears that Captain Rogers is attempting to enter the lab. Should I approve him access or would you prefer some mid-afternoon entertainment by allowing him to attempt to break the cap-proof glass?”

“Eh, let him in.” Tony motioned, watching as the sleek, modern doors of the lab slid open to reveal a red-faced Captain America.

The man almost seemed... livid? Loathsome? Whatever emotion it was, it wasn’t good. “Old man probably broke his hip or something if he’s this interested in getting into my one room of peace and quiet.”

Steve entered, snarling in his elderly fashion. “Tony, I’m going to ask this once and pray to mother Mary that your answer is a resounding no.” “Ooooo, threatening. What’s up, buttercup?” Tony jested, a resoundingly low-effort reaction as the genius felt as though he no longer could be phased by his teammates’ quarrels.

“Did you give Sam my shield?” Steve asked, his eyebrows quirking subjectively.

Tony was confused. “What? No. Why would I give Sam your... oh god.” Suddenly, all at once, pieces in Tony’s mind began to place themselves together in one all too real puzzle of comprehension.

Steve grew worried at his own lack of context, as Rhodey followed suit in the paranoia. “What? What did you do, Tony?”

The man squeaked. “I- I think the kid might have done it.”

And that was it, he’d sealed his fate in Rhodey’s eyes. The other man began to seethe, smoke nearly bellowing out of his ears as his chance at glory was redeemed.

“DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, TONY? DO YOU?”

“He said he wanted to play a prank, he didn’t say anything about giving Capsicle over there’s shield to the one person that would almost definitely try to destroy it for fun.” Tony shrugged, hoping to move the attention away from himself for the moment being.

Steve looked estranged. “Wait- what were you talking about?” “The kid!” Rhodey earned him in, “Isn’t he just like Tony? It’s like he cloned himself!” “I didn’t fucking clone myself, platypus.” Tony interrupted, only to be cut off by an extra presence in the room.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Peter asked, jovial as ever in his youthful stride. Of course, that didn’t last too long, as the boy was quickly stopped dead in his tracks by an onslaught of demands.

“Did you give my shield to Sam?”

“What’s your IQ, kid?”

“Pete, run!”

Peter stood still, confused and dazed by the screaming in his face. “Oooookkkaaayyyyyy. I’m gonna take this as my sign to kindly remove myself from the situ-”

“No! No you don’t, Parker.” Rhodey interjected, “You’re gonna entertain us for a little while, alright?”

Peter’s eyes grew wide. “Mr. Colonel Rhodes Sir, I have no idea why I’m being interrogated but if this is about the shield thing I can-”

“No, no, Peter. We just want to talk.” Rhodey said, unconvincingly, “Come on, sit down. It’ll be fun, some nice little bonding time with the newest addition to the team.”

Peter looked back to his mentor for support, only to find a blank face of fear and desperation. He knew there was no escape. “Okay.” The teen agreed.

“Great, now, where are you thinking about attending college?”

“What?” Peter asked.

Tony shrugged his shoulders at it all. “Just answer their questions, Pete. He won’t give up.”

Peter quickly accepted that as as much of an explanation as he was going to get any time soon, and lamented. “Uhhh MIT?”

“Good, good. And how’s your sleep schedule?” Rhodey continued.

Peter scoffed. “It’s there, I guess.”

Steve’s eyes began to grow. Oh god, Tony thought, he’s being indoctrinated. Rhodey kept it up. “Vague. I like it. Do you have any friends at school?

Peter made an off kilter face at that. “Just my best friend, Ned, and my girlfriend. I’m not much of a people person.”

“And you’re an orphan, right?”

Suddenly, Peter grew completely tense, obviously uncomfortable with the question. “Woah, dude. Not cool.”

“It’s not personal, I’m just curious.” Rhodey quelled, “You can not answer if that’s more comfortable.”

Peter calmed a bit at that. “No, no, no, no, no. I’m fine, it’s just- yeah. Yeah. I’m an orphan. Whatever. Keep going.”

Rhodey leaned in on the new path of questioning. “And what all do you know about that- the murder, that is?”

Peter laughed a little, switching into a jokind manner. “Is this a police thing? Do you think I killed my parents?” “If I give you context, it will sway your answers.” Rhodey joked back, but he wasn’t joking.

“Plane crash.” Peter said. “Some kind of set up. The- uh- SHIELD people said it was HYDRA but that’s still sort of up in the air. Cold case and all.”

“Okay, thank you. And what about-”

“Nope, stop torturing him.” Tony interrupted, “Kid, run for it.”

Peter laughed as he got up and began to walk away from the colonel. “I’m still so confused.” He expressed.

Tony felt like it was necessary to key the boy into the situation. “Rhodey over there that thinks I cloned myself and that you’re secretly an illegal recreation of my DNA sequences.” He explained.

At that, Peter looked the other man over, before leaning in towards his mentor to quietly whisper “Is... is he okay?”

Tony breathed out in relief at the boy’s nonchalance. “I have no idea.”

Steve caught into the conversation, adding his own two cents. “For the record, I’m on Rhodes’ side now. You too are the same person.”

“He’s sixteen!” Tony complained:

“Yeah!” The boy agreed, quick as lighting, almost as if by reflex. “And he’s, like, thirty.” “Oh, god, I am so happy you just called me thirty.” Tony gasped.

Rhodey mused in his small sextor of the complete bliss one should find when faced witn a minor victory. “Point is, same person.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You two are exhausting. I had one night stands back in my partying days that had more sense than you guys do. Come on, Peter, let’s go get ice cream.”

“Can we get Burger King, instead?” The teenager chirped.

The man perked up at the notion. “I love Burger King!” “Yes! Let’s go, Mr. Stark, I have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Polar opposites, you and me.”

“Yep! Polar opposites!”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #robert downey jr #irondad #my fics #peter parker #rhodey #colonel james rhodes #james rhodes #steve rogers #avengers endgame #chris evans

[drethanramslay]

Hi!! Can you please do No. 14 and 49 from the prompt list for Ethan X MC? Thank you so much I love all of your fics ❤️❤️

Thanks for the ask anon and @squishywizardhq

You can find the prompt list here.

#14- "Are you okay?" (I wrote Bryce x mc on this prompt which you can find here)

#49- "Are you bleeding?"

#97- "Stop being so stubborn!"

I decided to merge both the prompts because it's seemed most logical and fit into the scenario perfectly hehehe

Word count: 2K words (yep that's pretty long compared to the usual requests so buckle up)

Warning: none

Author's note: I was gonna post this later but people were getting antsy so I decided to post this first so enjoy

forgive me for any mistakes

And trust me <3

Stay for Me

Leah stepped out of the subway on to the platform and started walking towards the familiar apartment complex where she had spent most of her time in Ethan's absence.

During the entire walk, her brain was racing and her heart beat had spiked up due to the anticipation and anxiety.

It's the most logical option Leah. It's okay, don't be scared. Feelings are fleeting. You will get over him eventually. Her conscience tried to comfort her, but it was of no help whatsoever.

She entered the lift and pressed the button which would take her to his apartment. Though the ride was short, her palms felt sweaty and her throat was parched.

She stepped out and knocked on the door and waited for him to open it as she wiped her palms on her tights.

He opened the door, and Leah looked up to meet his eyes.

"Leah?"

"I'm an absolute idiot. I'm so sorry." She rambled.

"What? First of all come in." Concern was etched in his beautiful eyes as he opened the door wider so that she could enter.

"I have made my decision."

He winced, bracing himself. "You are gonna stay with him, right?"

"What? No!" She grasped his hands in her and looked up at him.

"it's you Bryce... It's always been you."

There was pin drop silence. Leah's heart thundered as the silence continued to stretch between them.

"Bryce, what aren't you saying anything?" Leah's voice cracked which seemed to shake him out of his reverie.

"Leah... No matter how much that makes me happy... No."

"No?! What no?"

He sat on the sofa while Leah continued standing, her eyes following every step. "Come sit down. We are due for a chat."

She sat down on the seat next to him and turned towards him, completely bewildered. "No? But.. but I don't understand this?"

She started counting the pros on her fingers. "We are literally perfect for each other. You are the number one surgeon of your batch. I'm the number one diagnostician of my batch. We both like the same things and music. I like you... You like me.. so why not?"

Bryce chuckled and shook his head as he played with his fingers. "Leah we only look good on paper."

"Bu-"

"Leah what you described is external factors which can fluctuate with time. We literally are carbon copies of each other."

"So what's wrong with that? Isn't it better that way?"

"Leah, over time all these factors will cancel out each other and we would just be a boring couple who is a shadow of one another. This 'feelings' we have now will change into bitterness, sadness and distance. And I don't want that."

His eyes landed on hers and he gave a small smile. "The perfect relationship is when you complement one another. Like fire and water. Like Ying and Yang. And I have see that between you and Ethan."

Leah looked down, her throat choking up with emotions.

"But... I decided to go with my logic and this is the right option. No hurt, no pain-"

"-No love, No happiness. Leah, love is not a application of logic. It's what you feel. It want the heart wants." Bryce finished the statement and sighed.

"You may have never spoken about it but anyone can see how head over heels the both of you are for each other. I have noticed the way his eyes brighten when you entre the room. Or the way your smile illuminates a thousand times more when he calls your name."

"Wait... Everyone noticed it?"

Rolling his eyes, he subtly punched her shoulder lightly. "Everyone knew except the two of you. You both have your head so far up your asses that you didn't even notice a bet was going on around."

"A BET?!"" Leah exclaimed.

"Yap. Hell, 90% of the people put a bet that you would end up with Ramsey. But you chose me. Many people lost a lot of money."

Leah groaned as she face palmed. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be. That's why they say love is blind."

Dragging her hands down her face she turned towards him. "But if you knew I had feelings for Ethan... Why did you still choose to date me?"

A small smile etched on his face. "Like I said love is blind. I chose to stay in denial and swooped in when you were hurting. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have played you."

"Shut up. You didn't play me. In fact you were one of the best girlfriends I have had. I knew the risks and I still pursued you."

Leah let out a deep sigh as she leaned on her knees.

"So what now?"

"Well. I suggest we call quits because neither of us would be happy."

"But what about you?"

"What about me? It's been a privilege to have my heart broken by you."

Leah narrowed her eyes at the statement and Bryce guffawed. "You know I love to quote TFIOS and I saw the opportunity and I had to."

"Bryce."

"Yeah yeah... I will be fine... Not now, but eventually. You are my best friend first and seeing you happy is all I want. Not gonna lie, I hope that I can find the kind of love you share with Ethan."

"I know that the guy upstairs has a plan for an amazing guy like you."

"Fingers crossed."

They both got up, and Bryce walked her to the door. Leah was still in deep thought but it was relief and lightness in her step.

Turning towards him, she placed a hand on the door frame. "Are you sure you are gonna be okay? I'm so sorry-

"Leah Marianne Garcia. Get the fuck our if here and get your man."

Leah gave h a huge grin and wrapped her arms around him in gratitude. "I only wish the best for you, Queen B."

"Right back at ya, Lee Lee."

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

Running.

She was running hard and fast down the empty streets of Boston. Her darned luck made her miss the last train to Ethan's place so she decided to take off running.

Her converse clad feet stomped on the wet slippery ground, never once slowing down.

Which tuned out to be bad idea because when she turned the corner to Ethan's street, she slipped and tripped, which resulted in her scraping her knees and her elbows on the rough pavement.

"Son of a bitch!!" Leah groaned as she painfully rose on her feet and tried to assess the damage.

Her tights were ripped at the knees, blood gushing down. There were tiny scratches on her palms and abrasions on her elbows.

I hope no one saw my epic fai-

"Sunshine?"

Great. Nice timing you got there god.

She turned around and saw Ethan standing there, with Jenner at his feet. Jenner immediately reached out to Leah, with an excited bark but was restrained by her leash.

He bent down and unclipped the leash from her collar. "Easy there girl. Now go."

Jenner excitedly rushed to her and stood on her hind paws and pressed her paws on Leah's waist, as if it were trying to give her a hug.

"Hello girl. how I have missed youuu. Who has been a good girl?" She asked to which Jenner barked. "That's right. You have been a good girl." She scratched the back of her ears and Jenner got back down on all fours, circling around her, sniffing.

"You came?" His voice wafted over to her.

Leah looked up, a soft smile on her face. "Yeah. I had to. We need to talk."

"Lets go up." he said, as he walked towards her.

She proceeded to walk, only to remember about her injured, bleeding knees. She stumbled and Ethan reached out to grasp her elbow, which was a bad idea because she yelped out in pain.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he surveyed her entire body, his eyes widening at the injuries on her knees and the elbows.

"Holy shit sunshine! You are bleeding. Why are you bleeding?"

"I was running and I slipped. Don't worry its just a scratch. It's not like I broke a leg or something." She said as she walked carefully.

Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist providing extra support, which Leah didn't have the heart to say no to. Together, with Jenner running circles around them, as if she was excited about the reunion, they walked to the lobby of the penthouse. They rode the elevator in silence, Ethan not once letting go of her which made her cheeks hot.

They reached the designated floor and walked towards the door. One entering, Ethan immediately rushed to the kitchen where he kept the first aid kit.  She sunk into the plush sofa and let out a sigh of relief.

As he poured antiseptic solution on the cotton, he gave instructions. "Take out your pants. I will just clean up these wounds and bandage them properly and then you can borrow something of mine because no matter how cool ripped jeans out this isn't going to wor-"

"Ethan you are overreacting. This is a small scratch-"

"God, sunshine! Will you stop being so stubborn?"

"Says Mr. I- will-walk- around- as-if- nothing's- happened- but- I- actually have a- ruptured- appendix." Leah scoffed which Ethan did not find funny. With an unamused expression he pressed the antiseptic on to the scratches on her elbow, which immediately burnt.

"Pinchewy!" She cried out.

"Yeah, right back at you. Didn't no one teach you as a child to not run on wet surfaces?"

Leah grumbled and looked the other way as he continued to work on her elbows.

After a moment of silence, Leah decided to speak about her reason to come here. "Bryce and I broke up."

She felt his piercing blue eyes land on her. "Sunshine I'm so sorry. It's all my fau-"

Interrupting him, she continued. "He decided to let me go because he knew that my stubborn ass won't date you without an incentive."

Sighing, she turned towards him, halting him in his work. "Ethan... You are a sarcastic son of a bitch, who is stubborn to a fault. Your head is so far up your ass that you don't even notice the subtle hints I send your way. You are arrogant but you also have the getaway pass because you are hot as fuck and are so damn intelligent."

"Thanks for the compliment?'

Leah chuckled as she placed her hand on his hand. "But... you are kind and you are passionate about saving lives. You may come across a harsh, but on the inside you are huge softie who cares about my success. You are a grump but, only I have been privileged to see your smile. There is so much good in you and you are such a great man. I could go on and on about the good in you but it would end up being a thesis report.

So in short, I just want to say that those are the many things I love about you."

Ethan's eyes widened, and hope and adoration poured into his eyes. He squeezed her hand as she continued. "Ethan, do you know why we work so well together? Its because we complement each other. Sure, those can lead to fights but, we always come out from those fights stronger. We are so strong and beautiful together."

She cupped his face and spoke. "So... Are you willing to give us another chance?"

Ethan's heart was bursting will joy and happiness. She wants me... She really wants me...

He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her cheekbone. "Sunshine, I can be a hard-ass sometimes and let’s not get started on how emotionally challenged I am. I'm a dumbass for ignoring the lines of fate. Trying to resist the inevitable just caused us more pain and sadness.” 

“Sunshine, I can't promise that this relationship will be perfect. Hell, this is uncharted territory for me. We may have fights and times when I want to bang my head against the wall but there is one thing I promise you. I will fight for you always and I will love you unconditionally."

"So will you do me the honour of being my girlfriend?" He asked with a giddy smile.

"Hell yeah. You can't get rid of me that easily." They both reached forward and when their lips touched, sparks of happiness and love radiated between them. Ethan ran his hand against her soft cheeks while Leah ran her hand through his luscious brown hair. This wasn't any kiss.

This was a lover's kiss. A promise. A seal of fate.

But the moment didn't last that longed. Ethan's knees knocked against hers and she cried out in pain. "Ouch!"

The both of them laughed. "Lets get you fixed up before we move on to strenuous activities, okay?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Yes doc.”

And finally, the two imperfect lovers were reunited.

bet y'all expressions would be like this

And then like this

and then hopefully like this? 

LOL im pushing my luck

Anyways I hope y'all liked it heheheh

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Ethan x MC Taglist: @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @pixelberryownsme @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 @an-urban-witch-ig @ramseyegerton @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @newcolonies @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs @choices-love-affair @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @ohramsey @squishywizardhq  @junehiratas @lilyvalentine @itsgoingnuts  @choicesfanaf @humanpokemon @temptress-of-death-and-desire @rookiefromedenbrook @courtesanofedenbrook @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter @fabi-en-ciel @mrsdrakewalkerblog @elwetritsche75  @livingpurpose @drramseysownsme @queencarb @andromedasinclaire @schnitzelbutterfingers @thanialis @floatingmeera @rookieoh @ethanramseyswhore @lucy-268 @big-yikers @have-aheart @whimsicalreader @tsrookie @itschoicesfanaf @lilypills @mals-chesthair @raleigheffingcarrera @utterlyinevitable @choices-fangirl-yeet @papinaveensbitch @custaroonie @helloayzcream @hyperlightgrifter @kiara-36 @eramsey28

#anushka writes #writing prompts #oh Ethan #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #dr ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey one shot #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #open heart fanfiction #choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #ohsy

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“I’ll Lay You Down Before You Fall” - Ally Mayfair-Richards x Lana Winters

Alright. ALRIGHT. Not to be dramatic, but this ship has absolutely ruined my life and I would GLADLY die 1000 times over for these headstrong idiots. Safe to say that once I thought about it I couldn’t get them out of my head. So, here we are, 9,000 words later. 

Special thanks to @thatgirlintheleatherjacket​ for humoring me and giving me the kick in the ass that I needed to actually post this, and @shineestark​ for listening to my incoherent rants about these cuties and unsticking my writer’s block :)

Words: 9,700

Summary: Allyson Mayfair-Richards doesn’t like losing. And she especially doesn’t like losing to pretty reporters with dark hair and perfect lips and a confidence streak that could outrun the sun. 

~Enjoy!~

Ally had stared at the thick, wooden door for twenty-three minutes, foot tapping as she mindlessly flipped through the papers in her hand. 

It was stuffy in the building, too stuffy for Ally not to be uncomfortable. And after checking and re-checking her watch and telling the receptionist at least three times that she had an appointment, Ally’s patience was near to gone. 

When that same receptionist had come to get her and escort her into the editor’s office, and Ally realized that Lana Winters had been in there alone the entire time, her patience had flown so far out the window Ally couldn’t even fathom reeling it back in. 

And after Lana had smirked up at her, teeth almost bared as she popped her brow and addressed her with a sarcastic, “You wanted to see me, Senator?”, Ally was fighting a losing battle to keep ahold of her tone with every inch of her being, let alone keep her hands from shaking in anger. 

She had barely been speaking with the journalist for five minutes, and Ally was already shocked at how deep Lana had dug herself under her skin. It was like she knew everything Ally was going to say. Had a counterpoint to present before Ally could even finish her sentence.  

All Ally had come to do was politely tell Lana that she couldn’t film on school property. To put her foot down and pull her rank if absolutely necessary. It wasn’t exactly against their state laws, or even the code of the city for that matter. But it was wrong, and Ally had taken the time to draw out a detailed proposal that explained exactly why she was correct. 

But whatever she had planned for, whatever conversations she had run through in her head, she certainly hadn’t considered losing. And right now, Ally sure as hell felt like she was losing, clinging to her point with a death grip as Lana swirled a tornado of words around her and spun her out. 

Ally was barely managing to hold on to her thought process, trying miserably to navigate Lana’s counterargument. Which was probably why her perfectly thought out proposal was currently crunching under her tightening fingers, paper crinkling as Ally forced herself to take a deep breath. 

“They shouldn’t have been at the school.” Ally set her jaw, locking her posture at the annoyance of having to push the same reasoning at this woman seven times. But she just wouldn’t listen. 

“My girls are going to do what it takes to get their story. Otherwise what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” Ally countered, voice rising against her better judgment. “I don’t know, maybe respecting the privacy of children and learning institutions, and teaching your girls some boundaries for once in their lives?” 

Lana’s eyes flicked down to the “time’s up” button pinned to Ally’s blazer. 

“Are you supportive of female journalism, Senator?”

“Am I...? What?” Ally scoffed. “Of course I’m supportive of female journalism.”

Lana quirked an eyebrow. Popped her tongue. “Alright.” 

And the way she dragged it out, the way she drawled on the word and tilted her head as her eyebrows flicked up in a soft nod, had Ally’s skin crawling and blood boiling in seconds. She threw the papers down on Lana’s desk. 

“Keep your girls out of the public school systems. If you want to get up in some private school’s business, that’s fine. Take it up with them. But our city’s public schools are under my jurisdiction and I am telling you that next time you want your cameras and microphones and pushy-ass questions inside one of them, you’ll have to go through me first.”

And with a huff she was gone, the calm clicking of Lana’s typewriter following Ally down the hallway and making her eye twitch. 

~~~

Ally was late to pick up Oz. Thirty-six minutes late, to be exact. Her meeting had run over and her sitter had fallen through, and her car could only get across the city so fast. 

When she made it to the front doors she was nothing but grateful and apologetic, signing him out on the clipboard and scruffing his hair with a smile as he hugged her legs. 

“I missed you,” he murmured into her side, and Ally knelt down on his level. 

“Oh Ozzie, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He grinned. “What do you think about getting some ice cream on the way home?” 

“Really?”

Ally nodded. 

“Yes!” And then he tackled her in another hug, and Ally couldn’t help but beam as his little arms wrapped around her neck. 

She pulled away, patting him on the head and ruffing up his curls as he shrugged off his backpack for her to carry. She had just picked it up, thinking absently that his books were getting too big and too heavy, when movement behind him caught her eye. 

Oh hell no.

There she was. Lana Winters. With a fucking camera crew and an amateur reporter. She was tracking her finger down the script in the girl’s hands, positioning her and the cameras in front of the fence by the playground. 

“Mama?” Oz questioned, blinking up at Ally. 

And in that split second Ally went against her better judgement because she had principles and she was never one to let things go. 

“Just… sit right here on the steps okay?” she said absently to Oz, dropping his backpack and patting his shoulder as he sat down. “Right there. Get started on your homework and I’ll be right back and I promise,” a soft kiss to the top of his head, “that we will get ice cream as soon as I’m finished.” 

She cut clear across the sidewalk, crossing the grass as her mind ran over the million different things she wanted to say to this woman. But somehow when she reached her, got right up in her face and loomed over her, practically snarling, all she could land on was, “Winters.” 

“Senator.” Lana’s brow quirked up challengingly. 

Ally growled. “I thought I told you that you needed permission to film on school property.”

Lana stifled a smirk. “And I thought I told you that we would do what was needed to get our story.”

The determination that was set in her eyes was driving Ally mad in the most agonizingly slow way. She clenched her fists at her side, swallowing down a rude remark. She was a public figure. They were both professionals. They could work this out. 

“Listen,” Ally tried, speaking a little bit too slowly to keep her voice steady. “Obviously we’re at an impasse. Why don’t you come to my office and we can discuss this properly. Find a middle ground.” 

Lana hesitated, glanced over at her cameraman. It was clear that she had expected Ally to snap, and Ally couldn’t help but smile at the idea that she had thrown her. 

Lana fidgeted with the papers in her hands, composing herself. 

“My lead is going to go stale in about eight hours, Ms. Mayfair-Richards.” Her voice was firm, and the way that her eyes searched Ally’s face, narrowing almost imperceptibly, left Ally’s jaw twitching. “I’m not going to miss out on this story just because you have a problem with me filming in front of an empty field.”

“I won’t let you air it,” Ally warned, crossing her arms. “Not without a proper meeting.”

And Lana had the nerve to sigh, circling her finger in the air and motioning for her team to wrap. She gestured to the young girl hovering a few feet away, taking the papers from her and sorting them with her own. 

“I have about forty-five minutes now,” she said, still looking down at her papers as she rifled through them. She replaced the script and flicked through a few more pages before looking up. “If you want to have a formal meeting. Otherwise I’m not free until Thursday and like I said—“ She pushed the papers back into the girl’s hands, trading her for her phone. “My lead goes dry in eight hours. It’s now or never, Ms. Mayfair-Richards.”

And oh how Ally despised when people called her by her full last name. She knew it was part of the job. It was the proper way to address her. But it only reminded her of Ivy. Betrayal. And when Lana said it… It made something hot stir up inside of her that set her teeth on edge. 

Ally shook her head. “I have to take my son home. Now’s not a good time. I have a slot free before my morning meetings tomorrow, but that’s the best I can do for you.”

Lana smiled, licking her lips. “I’ll give you six hours to change your mind. After that, we start filming, understood?” 

And Ally shook her head again. “What? No. Ms. Winters, that’s not what I said. You’re not filming here without permission, and I’m not—“

“You’ll change your mind,” Lana called over her shoulder, already walking away across the large field. And as she marched off, heels miraculously not slipping into the soil, hands gesticulating and snatching papers back and forth from the girl on her team, Ally couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. 

~~~ 

“Could I please have chocolate chip?” Oz asked sweetly, pushing his glasses up his nose. A moment, and then a tug to her sleeve. “Mama.”

Ally snapped her attention back to the ice cream shop, back to her son. “What, honey?”

“I would like chocolate chip, please.”

And Ally tried for the best smile she could, stroking her fingers through his curls. “Of course you can have chocolate chip, my polite little man. You’re growing up too fast, what am I going to do with you?” And Oz squealed as Ally pinched at his cheeks, scruffed his hair. 

She kept spacing out in line, focus snapping between her son and Lana’s words, echoing over and over in her mind. Her smug smirk. The way she owned every situation she came across. Like Ally was supposed to. Like Ally did. Until today.

Two chocolate chip double scoops later, with the ice cream dripping off the bottom of her cone, Ally decided that she didn’t like losing arguments. She didn’t like not being in control of the situation. And she certainly didn’t like letting someone else have the last word. 

“Mama,” Oz giggled, licking up the side of his cone to catch the melting line of chocolate chips. “You’re getting ice cream on your pants!” 

And shit, of course he was right. Ally had spaced so far out that she had forgotten that ice cream melts. And it was leaving a nice white puddle on the thigh of her black pants. 

“Oh gosh,” she muttered, swiping at her leg. “Thank you, Ozzie. Let me just— I’m just going to go inside and get a napkin, okay?” 

He nodded enthusiastically, and Ally had the wherewithal to keep her eyes on him the entire time she was inside the store, hands finding the box of napkins and pulling too many as she tracked him licking his ice cream, watched every single person who walked by. And when someone walked up with a dog that got a little bit too close, Ally was back out the door like a shot. 

“Ozzie, wait,” she started, but he was already deep in conversation with the man, his inevitably sticky hand scruffing between the dog’s ears. And as Ally glanced up at the man to apologize, her heart stuttered. 

He had blue hair. And even though it was cut short and it was the wrong shade, her brain still played horrible tricks on her. This man wasn’t Kai. People didn’t come back from the dead. But it was just enough to pull those old anxieties up and make the world spin a little bit too fast. 

“That’s enough, sweetie,” Ally tried softly, hand on Oz’s shoulder. 

“It’s alright,” the man with the dog said, smiling kindly at Ally. And she really, truly tried her best to smile back. 

“I appreciate it, but we had better be going. Right, sweetheart? Thank you so much for letting him pet your dog.” She nudged Oz. “What do we say?”

“Thank you,” Oz giggled, muttering a soft “ew” as the dog licked his hand. 

Ally nodded. “Alright now, say goodbye. We’ve got to go.”

Her grip was iron on his shoulder as she pulled him alongside her back to the car, tucking him in close and letting out a soft sigh. 

“Are you okay, Mama?” Oz asked after they had been driving for a few minutes.

Ally nodded, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Always, sweetie. Why do you ask?”

Oz shrugged. “He just looked like Daddy, that’s all.”

Ally’s heart lodged in her throat, tears burning her eyes as her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. 

“Ozzie, sweetie. He’s not your daddy. Remember? He was never your daddy. He lied.” 

And Oz nodded with a light “okay” before pulling a book out of his backpack and flipping through the pages. 

Ally turned the radio up as she cleared her throat, swiping at her tears as nonchalantly as possible and sniffing softly. Another glance in the rearview mirror and he was still reading. With her. Safe. 

When she hit a red light she dropped her head back on the seat, groaning and cursing herself before snatching her phone from her purse. A few swipes and taps, and she had her sitter on the phone. 

“Hi. It’s me. I know you said you couldn’t pick Oz up from school, but would you maybe be free in an hour? Something’s come up.”

~~~ 

Ally’s fingers tapped over her coffee mug, leeching the warmth from it as her leg bounced under the table. She watched the door, perking up every time it opened and the bell dinged. But it was a good ten minutes before Lana walked in, blue blazer just a little bit too perfect as she wiped her hands and casually threw her coffee order at the barista. It was met with a frantic “yes, Ms. Winters” and then she found Ally, eyes locking on her and raking down her form. Her brow quirked up as she sauntered over. 

“Senator,” she drawled as she pulled out her chair. 

Ally stood, hand outstretched. “Ms. Winters.”

Lana waved her off, sitting. “Oh for god’s sake, don’t be so formal. Sit down.”

And there it was again, that heat that flared in Ally’s cheeks because she wasn’t in control of the situation. All she could think was fix it. And fast. 

But before she could swallow and get her mouth around words, Lana spoke.

“You changed your mind.”

A nod.

“Why?”

Ally’s hands found her mug again, fingers skimming over the smooth porcelain. She stared down into the foam for a moment, and when she looked up, Lana’s eyes were tracking her fingers. 

“Tell me again what your story is about?” 

And at that, Lana met her gaze. Skepticism clouded her features. She licked her lips. 

“We got a tip that someone tried to break into the school last night. A man was seen hopping the fence and testing the doors.”

Ally nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Lana’s eyes narrowed, and there was a question pushing against her lips. Ally could see her fighting it. 

“Why this story?” Ally asked, even though she knew the answer. Anyone with any common sense knew the answer. But she wanted to hear it from Lana’s mouth. Just to be sure. 

Lana cleared her throat. Straightened. “Senator,” she started, folding her hands in front of her. “People deserve to know when—“ Her coffee was set in front of her. “Thank you— People deserve to know when their children are in danger. When their neighborhood is in danger. They deserve to know. To be well informed and have the time and the means to protect themselves.”

“And why in front of the playground?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Emotional appeal. If we shot it from across the street, with the logo of the school in front, it wouldn’t hit as hard as if you’re seeing the jungle gyms and the mulch kicked up and the balls left abandoned in the grass.”

Ally hummed, chewing on her lip as she ran her thumb along the rim of her mug. A long moment while Lana took a sip of her coffee. And then Ally nodded. 

“You can shoot your segment there. Tonight. In front of the playground.”

Lana half-smiled at her, taking another slow sip. “Well,” she started, brow raising as she looked up at Ally over the rim of her mug. “I would say thank you, but…”

Ally challenged her, quirking her own brow. “But?”

Lana shook her head. “It’s not important.” She cleared her throat, replacing her coffee on the table in front of her. “What is interesting me, though, is that mysterious stain on your pants. Seems like there’s a story there.” 

The blood drained from Ally’s face as she looked down at the ring from the melted ice cream on her thigh. She had been home for a good twenty minutes. She had had time to change. But Oz had needed help with his homework and then there had been a fiasco with his afternoon snack and a slight fit over the fact that it was peanut butter and celery again, and she had honestly been in such a rush to touch up her makeup and fluff her hair that she had forgotten about her pants entirely. 

Ally tried to blow it off the best she could, pushing a hand through her hair and chuckling something about how kids were a handful and she barely had time to pee, let alone change her clothes once he got home from school. 

Lana smiled. A big, genuine smile as she leaned forward on the table. “Tell me about your son. Ozzie, right?” 

And before Ally knew what had happened, two hours had gone by, both of their coffees ice cold, half-finished, and forgotten between them. They had laughed, Ally had cried, as hard as she had tried not to. And when the tear fell and she swiped it quickly with her thumb, Lana’s hand had found hers across the table. But now, as Lana recounted details from her kidnapping, Ally found herself leaning into her voice, chin propped in her hand and brow furrowed as she nodded along with the words. 

“And he needed me, I think,” she continued, staring intently at Ally. She didn’t look away. She didn’t drop her gaze. It was incredibly brave, how open she was being. And Ally understood. 

“It’s that dependency,” Ally agreed, eyes narrowing. “Did he have issues with his parents? Kai’s died when he was young.”

Something ghosted over Lana’s face and she cleared her throat to cover it, tilting her head and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Smiled softly. “He had… He needed a mother. And he chose me to fill that gap.”

And the way she talked about it, like it was just something that had happened, like it hadn’t left deep scars and didn’t stick with her. Like she didn’t wake up in the middle of the night screaming… Maybe she didn’t. At this point Ally thought she was probably the strongest person alive. It wouldn’t have surprised her one bit if Lana had completely moved on. Goodness knows she certainly talked about everything well enough. 

But something nagged at the back of Ally’s mind. Maybe it was the way the tip of her eyebrow was twitching. Maybe it was the way she held onto Ally’s eye contact like it was a lifeline. Whatever it was, Ally had a feeling that beneath that strong, hard outer layer was someone so soft and so broken that Lana had to hold onto those walls she had built, re-fortify them every second of every day to keep her most vulnerable parts safe. 

“We don’t need to talk about this,” Ally started, clearing her throat. But Lana squeezed her hand and she stopped herself.

“Please,” Lana tried, a small smile on her lips. “I don’t… Not many people understand what I’ve been through. And probably no one quite like you. I don’t mind.” She swallowed, her smile twitching. “If that’s alright.”

Ally found herself whispering “always” before she knew what she was doing. Before she knew if she wanted to keep talking about it. Because there was something intoxicating about having someone else stare into her soul while she talked about her deepest secrets, her deepest fears. To place them right there. Out in the open. And not be judged. To have someone nodding along who actually meant it. Who understood. Who knew those emotions that she kept dug down in that deep place within her mind, without her having to say a word. 

Lana’s smile grew and she licked her lips, her thumb brushing over Ally’s palm, and a shiver ran up under Ally’s skin. She blinked, and Lana blinked back, and suddenly she was overcome with the deep, aching need to kiss her. 

Anyone but her.

Ally cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she tried, pulling her hand from Lana’s grip. She told herself it was a coincidence that Lana’s smile fell at that exact moment. “Don’t you need to go film your piece? You’re going to run out of daylight.”

Lana glanced at her watch, seemingly jolted back into the real world. Her eyes went wide. “Shit. Shit! Is that the time?” She scrambled, gathering her purse and digging out a ten dollar bill to drop on the table. 

“No no, let me,” Ally tried, fumbling with her own purse. “You did me a favor, meeting me here.” 

But Lana waved her off, shouldering her bag. “How about you give me a ride back to the school and we call it even? I’ll never make it in time if I walk.”

And Ally found herself smiling. “Alright. Deal.”

~~~ 

The television droned as Ally washed the dishes, scrubbing them down and drying them off. One by one. She didn’t know why, but there was something so soothing about it. Oz tucked snugly in bed, the quiet of the house. The rhythm of the washing and drying and washing again. It gave her time to think over her day, sort out cases, process everything and anything that was picking at her mind. 

Right now, it was Lana Winters. And she hated herself for it. Hated how much she had enjoyed the closeness, the familiarity. The immediate warmth that had threaded through her body at Lana’s touch, her words, just listening to her talk. 

The way her hand had brushed over Ally’s as she was buckling herself into the front seat of Ally’s car.

Ally fought to keep the woman off her mind. And she was failing miserably. But she full-on gave up when Lana popped up on her television, her voice breaking Ally’s thoughts. 

She was in front of the school, mouth moving over empathetic words. Brow pushed up. Eyes almost watering. Damn, she was good. Ally had just noted that Lana had taken the story herself, she hadn’t let the intern do it, when the doorbell rang. 

She set the plate down in the sink, drying her hands on a towel and silently cursing her neighbor for always asking to borrow ingredients this late. She had asked her multiple times not to ring the doorbell after nine, but the woman never complied. 

Ally made a bet with herself that it would be eggs this time - what was it with this woman and eggs at night? - as she pulled the door open. 

And froze. 

Lana Winters stood before her, hair caught up in a ponytail and makeup still absolutely perfect. She was wearing the same stunning blue blazer combination that she had worn earlier in the day. And Ally was still in her stained pants.

“Senator,” Lana greeted her, a soft smile pushing her cheeks up. 

“Is everything okay?” Ally tried, tugging at the hem of her shirt and smoothing it down. 

Lana nodded, her brow twitching before morphing back into that sweet smile. “I was just…” She huffed, swallowing. “I know it’s late, but I was just about to head home, and I realized that I pass your neighborhood on my way, so I thought maybe we could—“

Ally bit down on a smile, opening the door wider and gesturing inside. “Come on in.”

~~~ 

“Red or white?” Ally called from the kitchen, hands hovering between the glasses in her cabinet. 

“Whatever you’re drinking,” Lana replied. “I’m not picky.” 

Red it was. 

Ally pulled the wide glasses down onto the counter, filling them just a bit too high, and went to join Lana in the living room. 

She was standing in front of a bookshelf, arms crossed and fingers tapping on her elbow as she looked over the pictures there. She pointed to one, looking over at Ally. 

“Is this your wife?”

Ally moved around the couch, handing Lana her glass. Glanced at the picture as Lana swirled her wine and smiled in approval. 

“Ex-wife,” Ally corrected, taking sip from her glass. 

“Oh,” Lana started, turning back to the photo. “I thought that I heard you were widowed. I apologize.” 

Ally shook her head, placing her hand placatingly on Lana’s arm. “No no,” she said as she swallowed another sip. “I was. It’s just… She’s the one that got us into that entire mess. And I realized after I figured everything out that we hadn’t been married for a while. Not really. So… It’s easier if I…” She cleared her throat. “She’s still Oz’s mother and I think it’s important that he remember her, but sometimes I wonder if it would… be easier for him if this chapter of his life wasn’t constantly on display.”

Lana shook her head. “Who knows…” she mumbled absently. And guilt washed through Ally.

“I’m sorry,” she tried, clearing her throat. “Here I am, making this all about me. You wanted to talk about something?”

Lana waved her off for the hundredth time that day and made for the couch. Something in the back of Ally’s brain hated that she was so casual about it, didn’t wait to be invited to sit. And something told Ally that she didn’t really hate it at all.

A split second decision, and Ally sat on the couch with her, instead of across in the armchair. 

“I just wanted to thank you again for letting me run that story.”

Ally smiled, shaking her head. “I made it into a bigger thing than it needed to be. It was a good piece.” 

Lana swallowed her sip of wine, perking up. “You watched it?”

“I did,” Ally nodded, smirking around the rim of her glass. “What happened to that pretty little intern who was going to run the story?”

A laugh. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

Ally’s brow quirked. “So you knew I would be watching?”

Lana’s eyes narrowed. “I had my suspicions.”

“Oh, is that so?”

A chuckle echoed in Lana’s wine glass, and there it was again, that pounding in Ally’s head to kiss her that left her stomach flipping and her thighs clenching. 

They fell into an amicable silence, staring at each other and taking small sips of their wine. Ally didn’t know when, but at some point, Lana’s hand had slid over her own. And when she realized it was there, she traced her thumb over Lana’s knuckles. 

Lana hummed, and the way it reverberated in Ally’s chest made heat rush to her cheeks. 

“Listen,” Ally started, and Lana’s brow twitched up questioningly. “I apologize if I was too firm about filming at the school. I hope that in the future we can—“

“Mama?!”

Ice shot down Ally’s spine. “Shit.” 

She scrambled, sliding her wine glass onto the table and bolting up. Lana was right there with her, following her out of the living room.  

“Is everything okay?”

Ally nodded as she skated through the rooms to the stairs. “Yes, yeah. I’m sorry, he just, he has night terrors. Just give me one minute.”

She ran up the steps, pushing the door to Oz’s room open. 

“Oz? What is it? What’s wrong? I’m right here.” 

Ozzie was curled up against his headboard, shaking and sniffling. And something hard knotted over Ally’s heart. She rushed to his side, pushing stray hairs off of his sweaty brow. 

“Shh, shh,” she cooed, tucking him against her chest and rocking him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe.” 

She felt him nod against her stomach and she pulled back, holding his face in her hands. “What was the dream about, sweetheart?” 

He started with his broken explanation, brow scrunching as he tried to remember all of the pieces and put them in a logical order. It wasn’t too bad, until he got to the end. And then it was Kai and Ivy, just like it always was. This time sitting on a throne and making him dance. Kai walking over and ripping his arms off. Cackling as he waved them around. 

Ally pulled him to her again, whispering a soft, “no no no, sweetie. It wasn’t real. They’re not here. They can’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

She waited for his breaths to steady out before pulling away again and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Do you want a glass of water?” she asked, wiping beads of sweat from his hairline. 

Oz nodded slowly. 

“Alright. Give me one minute. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Another nod. 

“Okay.” Ally pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before turning and nearly jumping out of her skin. 

Lana was leaning in the doorway. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, smiling softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Mama…?” Oz questioned uneasily, hands twisting into his comforter. 

“I thought maybe I could help,” Lana continued, half whispering, half mouthing the words. Ally gave her a soft smile. 

“Ozzie,” Ally said, turning back to her son. “This is one of my friends, Ms. Winters. She’s very nice. Can she sit with you while I get your water? I promise you’ll be safe if she’s here.”

A hesitant nod.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Ally squeezed Lana’s arm lightly as she passed, whispering a soft and meaningful “thank you”. She paused in the hallway, watching Lana sit down on Ozzie’s bed.

“You’ve got a lot of clowns in here,” she started, her voice pitched up and playful. Oz nodded, fingers releasing his sheets just so. “You know,” Lana continued, and Ally could tell by the tone of her voice that her nose was scrunched up. “If you want, you can call me Lana Banana.”

Ally heard Ozzie giggle, and then she went to fetch the glass of water. 

When she returned a few minutes later, glass in one hand and his favorite blanket in the other, fresh from the dryer, she could hear the laughter before she had even reached the top of the stairs. 

“But why does he use scissors? Why not something more… clown-like?”

“I don’t know,” Oz giggled. “But look, he has juggling sticks, too.”

Ally turned the corner into his room as Lana shook her head softly, Ozzie grinning and fumbling with the action figure in his hands. She paused in the doorway.

“Hm, I don’t know,” Lana started, finger tapping against the figure’s mask. “This doesn’t seem to add up. Where are the rest of his tricks? Does he only have one act?”

Ozzie shoved at her, cackling. “He’s not a real clown.”

Ally skirted into the room as Lana gave a light, “Oh, I see.” She handed the cup to Ozzie, trading him for the action figure and replacing it on his dresser. 

“Alright, now that’s enough Twisty for tonight. We don’t want to bore Ms. Winters.”

She scrunched her nose, mouthing a soft “it’s fine” as she smiled. 

Oz took a few big gulps of water, and Ally smoothed her hand through his hair. 

“Small sips,” she urged, tapping his hand. One last swallow and he handed the cup back to her. “All finished?” 

Oz nodded. 

“Okay then, say goodnight to Ms. Winters, and don’t forget to thank her for playing with you.” 

He did exactly as he was told, her polite little man, and she couldn’t help but smile as she fluffed up his blanket. Before she could stretch it out, though, Lana had grabbed the other end of it, pulling it across the bed so that it laid perfectly flat. And Ally’s smile wavered at the warmth spreading through her, reminding her just how nice it felt to have someone else there. To help. How nice it felt not to be alone. 

Ozzie wiggled and broke Ally’s thoughts, and only then did she realize she had been staring at Lana. She cleared her throat. 

“Okay mister, time for tucks.”

Oz laughed as Ally tucked his blanket around him over-exaggeratedly, grumbling out “tuck tuck tuck tuck” in her silliest voice. 

A kiss to his forehead, one for his nose, and then she was walking back to the door, Lana right behind her in the hallway as she found the light switch. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Ally murmured, flicking the switch off.

She waited for the soft “goodnight, Mama,” before she shut the door. But this time, before it clicked, she also heard a “goodnight, Lana Banana,” and by the way Lana chuckled behind her, Ally knew she had heard it, too. 

She turned, letting out a soft sigh. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ally started, making her way to the staircase. “He can be a bit of a handful, but--“

Lana cleared her throat softly and Ally glanced back at her as she made her way down the stairs. And froze mid-step. 

“I-“ Ally tried, brow pushing up at the tears in Lana’s eyes. “Are you alright…?” 

Lana smiled, waving her off and moving to push past her down the stairs. But Ally caught her arms, holding her level on the step. “Lana…?”

And Lana chuckled softly. Ally knew why. It was the first time she had used her first name. And it felt good. It sat warm on her tongue like butter. 

She sniffed again, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye so quickly and delicately that Ally almost missed it. 

“Lana, what’s wrong?” Ally tried again, sliding her hands down her arms and trying to catch her gaze. 

A long moment, and Ally waited, because she could feel Lana warring with herself. Trying to find the right words. 

“Your son is obsessed with a serial killer,” she said. But the way that she said it, like it was funny, with an ironic chuckle laced through her words. 

It split through Ally like lightning. 

“Oh my gosh, Lana. I am so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking. God, why wasn’t I thinking? I can’t even imagine what you— What do you need? Do you want to sit down? Talk about it? Would you like to leave? I would offer to drive you home but I can’t leave Oz—“

Lana pushed her finger against Ally’s lips and she faltered, little electric pulses sparking at the contact. 

“It’s not that,” Lana tried, smiling softly and sniffing against the last of her tears. “It’s that… Your son is obsessed with a serial killer, and I didn’t care.”

Ally blinked at her.

“He was talking to me about Twisty and it should have scared me. It should have brought everything flooding back. But I was so content and happy just to be making him feel better, that it didn’t matter. And I have been waiting so long for this moment to come.” 

She shook her head in disbelief, and then more tears came, her finger falling from Ally’s lips. She giggled over a sob, hand coming up to cover her mouth, ever so proper. And then she choked out a soft “oh, Ally” and Ally let herself smile at the way her name sounded on this woman’s perfectly shaped lips. 

And then Lana kissed her.

Ally froze at the shock that coursed through her body, hands springing off of Lana’s arms. And as quickly as it had happened, Lana pulled away, brow creased and doubt pulling her smile down at the corner. 

“I’m sorry,” she said almost immediately, hands pushing against her cheeks. “I don’t know what came over me, I—“

Ally surged forwards, crushing her lips to Lana’s. A tiny squeak, and then Lana melted under her, moaning as she parted her lips and deepened the kiss. Her hands were in Ally’s hair in seconds, and Ally relished the way that she tugged so lightly, urging her mouth closer. And good lord kissing her felt like filling a mold with molten gold, hot and heavy and brilliant, seeping into every hollow part of her and making her whole. 

Lana made the smallest of sounds, her hand falling to the dip of Ally’s back and pressing her closer. But they were on the stairs and there wasn’t room for both of them to find their footing, so Ally slid her hands over Lana’s waist and tugged her down the steps, one at a time. Nice and slow so that she wouldn’t have to stop kissing her. 

The second they hit the bottom, Lana had her flipped and pinned against the banister. 

Ally cried out before Lana swallowed the sound. “Shh,” she chided between kisses. “I don’t think he’s asleep yet.”

Ally laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’d be surprised.” 

Lana pulled back, quirking a brow. “Is that a risk you want to take?”

“Honestly?” Ally asked, licking her lips as she panted.

“Mhm.” It was more of a hum than a response, and before Ally could blink, Lana’s mouth was on her neck, her fingers scratching up under her shirt. 

Ally fought the urge to let her eyes roll back in her head, grounding herself on the banister digging into her back. All she managed was a small moan. 

“Don’t get in the habit of lying to me,” Lana murmured against her skin, nipping. “That’s never going to end well.” 

Ally’s laugh was smothered by a groan as Lana’s hands slipped down over her ass. 

“Yes,” she breathed, hand coming up to Lana’s hair and holding her against her neck. 

“Yes, what?” 

Another groan. “Yes, I’m willing to take the risk.” 

Lana broke away, pressing a soft kiss to Ally’s lips before nudging their noses together. She smirked. 

“Well, alright then.”

~~~ 

Ally hadn’t replaced the furniture after Ivy was gone. Everyone told her that she should redecorate, should get rid of everything they had shared and start over. A new life. Clean. But Ally had thought that would be too rough on Ozzie, so she had kept almost everything, save wedding photos and some decorations Ivy picked out that Ally absolutely despised. 

And now, pushed deep into her couch as Lana kissed down, down, down her body, she was glad she hadn’t gotten rid of it, because damn it might just be the most comfortable couch on the planet.

It had never been this comfortable with Ivy on top of her. 

Trapping her. 

Ally squeezed her eyes shut, breaths quickening as her hands tightened in Lana’s hair. 

And that was all it took. Just two quick inhales and a slight grip change, and Lana stopped mid-bite, pulling off of Ally just so. 

“Okay,” Lana said softly, resting her chin where her mouth had been, just above Ally’s belly button. She smoothed her hands up Ally’s ribs, sliding her thumbs softly over the dips there. “Okay. It’s okay.” 

And humiliation flooded through Ally as she nodded in agreement. Swallowed hard. Shook her head. 

“It’s nothing,” she tried, letting go of Lana’s hair and flexing her fingers. “Just… Give me a minute.” 

A soft nod. “Okay.”

It was more than a minute, and Ally could feel Lana’s eyes on her. And her thumbs, running so delicately over her ribs, back and forth and back and forth. 

Another attempt at an inhale, but Ally couldn’t get her breath in, the smell of Ivy stuck in her nose and the memory of her so solid on top of her blocking her lungs. Her stomach hitched up with the half-breath, and then Lana was off of her, pulling away and sitting up on the couch. 

“Wait,” Ally started, propping herself up on her elbows, because somehow the cold of the room on her stomach was so much worse, made her feel even more alone. And doubt slammed into her chest when Lana got up off the couch and walked around the coffee table. “Shit.” 

She was just about to cry, just feeling exposed enough and vulnerable enough, cold and open and hell, she hadn’t let anyone take her shirt off since Ivy and it wasn’t—

“Sit up, honey.” 

Lana was standing over Ally, and Ally hadn’t realized she had pushed her hands over her face until Lana’s fingers were prying them down. 

“Sit up.”

Ally did as she was told, propping herself up on her arm and watching as Lana sat down right where her head had been, crossing one leg over the other. She patted her lap, and the smile she offered Ally was so warm, so genuine, that Ally couldn’t help but lay back down. And the way that her head fit in Lana’s lap, the way Lana’s fingers started pulling softly through her hair, Ally brought her hand up to Lana’s knee and traced tiny circles there, breaths steadying out. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lana tried, scratching lightly at Ally’s scalp.

Ally sighed, staring at the wall. Shook her head. “It’s just that sometimes… Everything comes rushing back and I feel so…” She trailed off, thumb tapping against Lana’s knee.

“Trapped.” 

Ally startled, turning to look at Lana. “Exactly.” 

Lana chuckled, but she swallowed it down, something shadowing her eyes. 

Ally sat up, scooting closer. And after waiting for a sign to stop, watching Lana watch her, listening to the quickening of her breaths, she made the split second decision to straddle her, settling down in her lap. 

“Lana Winters,” she murmured, brow furrowed as she searched Lana’s eyes. And Lana held her gaze, hands settling on her waist. “Who are you?” 

Lana’s fingers tightened as she laughed, really, fully laughed, head thrown back just so. And Ally thought absently that she looked like an angel, her hair half-pulled out of its ponytail, curls dropping over her shoulders, lipstick worn down from kissing and kissing and kissing. Ally wondered if it was trailed across her own neck, over her shoulders, down her stomach. But more than that, she wondered if she could kiss her hard enough and long enough to get every last piece of it off. 

When Lana looked back at her, eyes glittering, Ally grinned. Shifted to ease the throbbing between her legs. And Lana’s breath stuttered. She gulped. 

“I should probably be going,” she murmured, fingers twitching on Ally’s waist. 

Ally shook her head. “Don’t go.” 

Lana chuckled, smiling softly. “It’s late.”

But her hands weren’t moving and her eyes kept flicking to Ally’s mouth, so for the thousandth time that night, Ally made a split second decision and ground down against Lana’s hips, brow raising in a hesitant question. “Don’t go.”

A soft gasp. “Alright, honey.”

“Yeah?”

Lana bit her lip, nodding. “Just for a little while.”

And that’s how Ally found herself here, hands in Lana’s hair as Lana mouthed at her neck and forced Ally down on her thigh over and over again. 

“That’s it,” she murmured against Ally’s skin, and it was hot, everything was so hot with this woman. 

Ally nodded, whining. And Lana had the nerve to giggle. 

“What’s funny?” Ally panted, moaning as Lana flicked her tongue over her pulse point. 

“Nothing,” Lana breathed, tightening her grip on Ally’s waist and forcing her faster. Faster.

And the friction that was building was sparking a volatile heat in Ally’s stomach that was pushing and growing and Ally twisted her fingers tighter in Lana’s hair to keep from completely coming apart. 

“For god’s sakes, Lana, just—“ Lana bit down and Ally cried out, and at the heat of Lana’s tongue over the bite she let out a loud moan. 

Another giggle, and a soft hum. “What do you want, honey?” 

And Ally groaned, practically screaming through her clenched teeth. “Will you just— god, oh god— Lana Winters, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll—“

Lana crushed her mouth to Ally’s, moaning as their teeth clashed and their tongues fought for dominance. 

“There she is,” she panted, hands finding the band of Ally’s pants and yanking them down. They got caught between them and Lana broke away, brow furrowing as Ally lifted her hips. But it wasn’t enough. 

“Lay down for me, honey?” And the way she asked, so soft and so easy, like she wouldn’t mind if Ally said no. 

Well. 

Ally fell back onto the couch, hands finding the silk of Lana’s shirt and pulling her down on top of her. She was over Ally for seconds before she tugged her pants past her thighs and Ally kicked them all the way off. And then Lana straddled Ally’s waist, wiggling her hips down as she pulled her ponytail out and fluffed out her curls. 

“Oh come on,” Ally groaned, rolling her eyes. “You can’t— That’s not fair.”

“Oh no?” Lana questioned, and she bit down on her finger so seductively that Ally actually felt the heat that was pooling between her legs. She thought for a split second that her couch would be absolutely ruined tomorrow and she may need to buy a new one after all, but then Lana threw her head back and laughed and Ally’s hands gripped into her shirt, rucking it up from where it was tucked into her skirt. 

“Off. Now.” Yanking, tugging, pulling. “Get it off.”

Another laugh. “Yes ma’am.” 

She lifted her arms, letting Ally rip the shirt off of her head before yanking her down on top of her and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe. 

Lana broke away, pushing their foreheads together as she panted. “For a second there I thought you were going to go full bottom on me.”

Ally swallowed. “Is that a problem?” 

Lana hummed over a chuckle, tracing her finger down Ally’s jaw, tapping her chin. “Not if I’m the one that gets to make Miss Senator fall to pieces.”

Ally laughed. “Challenge accepted.”

And Lana bit her lip, nuzzling their noses together. “Oh honey,” she drawled, “it’s not going to be a challenge, believe me.” 

Ally gasped, flushing, and Lana took the opportunity to latch her mouth back to her neck, fingers slipping down over her thighs and scratching lightly. And Ally almost drowned in the feel of it, almost begged. But just as her eyes rolled back in her head and Lana’s mouth opened in that sticky, sticky way, there was a thump.

“Mama…?”

Ally’s eyes flew open and Lana froze, pulling back. Ally caught at her shoulders.

“Don’t move,” she mouthed, acutely aware that she was not wearing any pants and Lana was the only thing covering her. “Please.” 

Lana bit down on a laugh.

“Ozzie? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ally called, pushing a finger to Lana’s lips.

“I was thirsty,” he said softly. 

“Alright,” Ally tried, throwing a look at Lana as she pushed her tongue against Ally’s finger. “I—“ 

Lana took her finger into her mouth, holding it between her teeth. 

“Um, Oz, just—“ 

Lana sucked, hummed, barely audible, and Ally melted into the vibrations, groaning softly. 

She took a deep breath, forcing her mind back to the present. 

“Ozzie, just— go into the kitchen and grab a cup and I’ll meet you in there, okay?” 

“Okay,” he replied casually, and Ally heard him plod out of the room. 

“Stop it,” Ally started before Lana even had a chance to open her mouth. “You horrible, awful, distracting—“ 

She kept muttering as Lana giggled softly, crawling off of her and retrieving her pants from the floor. She held them out to Ally. Quirked her brow. “Quickly, honey, or he’s going to come back in here.”

Ally huffed, pulling her pants back on and pressing her mouth to Lana’s ear. “You’re dead meat, Winters. Just you wait.” 

But after helping Ozzie with his water in only pants and a bra, tucking him snugly back into bed, and making her way back down the stairs, Ally found Lana standing in the foyer, pulling her blazer on over her shirt. 

Ally stopped in her tracks. “What… are you doing?” 

Lana whipped around, smile breaking through as she finished with the buttons. “It’s late, honey. And I have an early morning tomorrow.” 

Ally nodded, brow raised. “Alright.” 

Lana crossed the room, hand settling on Ally’s chest. Two soft pats. “He’s a sweet kid.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ally tried, frustration flooding through her. “I thought he would stay asleep, but—“

“Hey,” Lana started, pressing a soft kiss to Ally’s lips. “You said you were willing to take the risk. And I knew what I was getting into when I pushed you down onto that couch. Okay?” 

A hesitant smile. A nod. “Okay.” 

Lana kissed her again, lingering as her fingers tapped against Ally’s skin. When she pulled back, she was smirking. “Are you going to be okay if I leave now? You’re not going to combust on me, are you, honey?” 

And Ally chuckled, low and soft in the back of her throat as her hands found Lana’s ass and yanked her against her. “Oh baby, I’ll be just fine. But you still have another thing coming. And don’t you forget it.” 

Lana held her out at arm’s length, eyes raking over her. “We’ll see.” 

They stayed frozen like that for a long moment, and Ally could tell by the way Lana was looking at her that she was warring with herself on something. She waited for Lana to change her mind. To pull her in and kiss her senseless. But after biting her lip and tilting her head, Lana chuckled, hands falling from Ally’s arms. 

Alright then. 

Ally grabbed Lana’s purse for her and opened the door. 

“You still have that morning appointment available tomorrow?” Lana purred, shouldering the bag with a smirk.

Ally quirked her brow. “I may be able to pencil you in.” 

A low laugh and one more light kiss to Ally’s lips. “Oh good. And here I was thinking I wouldn’t have time for breakfast.”

And then she was gone, walking down the drive and leaving Ally standing in the doorway alone, gaping and shaking and absolutely soaked. 

~~~ 

“I told you, we’re not cutting the story. It’s already half-way in print, for heaven’s sake.” 

“I’m not asking you to cut the story,” Ally snapped, arms crossed tight. “All I’m asking is that you cut that one specific part.”

“And I’m telling you no.” 

Ally let out a growl, standing abruptly and bracing her hands on her desk. “God, you are so infuriating! It’s two lines. Just fucking cut it!” 

“Why?” Lana slammed back, spinning on Ally. “Why should I be the one who has to cut my story? Why can’t you let us run this one?” 

“Because I let you have the last one. And the one before that—“

“And the one before that you cut,” Lana argued, smacking her hand down on Ally’s desk. “You have no respect for journalism. If you would just listen—“

“No respect? No respect?!” A flat laugh fell out of Ally’s mouth as she skirted around her desk. “Okay. Let’s talk about respect. Let’s talk about the way you completely went behind my back with that story about the bar? About how you snuck one of your girls into a private city council meeting and then flat out denied it when they called you out?”

She was right on Lana now, towering over her as her chest heaved. 

“I’ll protect my girls. I stand by that and I stand by them.”

Ally glared at her, growling. “You want to try that again?”

But Lana only straightened, arms folding across her chest as she tilted her chin up challengingly. 

Ally huffed and Lana licked over a smirk, fingers tapping on her elbow as the fire in her eyes stoked with her inevitable victory. 

Ally forced herself to turn away, shaking her head out as she took a long breath and pushed her fingers into her temples. “Winters, I swear, sometimes I just—“ 

There was a beat of silence and Ally whipped her head up in the same second she smelled smoke. She groaned. 

“Ms. Winters, can you please not smoke in here? This is a public office.”

Lana raised her brow, sucking on her bottom lip. She held Ally’s gaze, pulling the cigarette to her mouth and taking a long drag. “Sorry,” she drawled, resting her elbow on her arm. “Nasty habit.”

Ally pulled her hands through her hair as she gathered her wits, sitting back at her desk and crossing her legs. Straightened her posture. “I am not going to let you run the full story.”

“I think you will,” Lana countered, sauntering over to the desk. She sat down on the edge of it, dragging on her cigarette.

Ally’s eyes caught on the hem of Lana’s skirt as it inched up her knees, exposing the pink skin there and the annoyingly perfect little dip of her bone, hollow and flushed and— 

She caught herself, digging her teeth into her bottom lip and forcing her eyes back to Lana’s face. And the way she had her cigarette caught between her teeth, the way her lipstick stained the edge of it, the way her fingers twitched on it as her lip quirked up at the corner, Ally had to force herself to sort her thoughts, running over arguments and counterarguments, categorizing them and ordering them and building a wall of a defense against the way Lana was cockily skimming through the papers on her desk. 

The nerve of it all, mixed with the way she distinctly felt like she was losing again, had Ally practically vibrating. Her fingers pushed into the arms of her chair as Lana caught her eye, something softening under her gaze as she quirked a brow and covered a smirk with another drag on her cigarette. 

Ally stared her down, jaw setting as her resolve strengthened. Lana tilted her head, and Ally forced herself to match her, not letting herself register the depth of Lana’s gaze or the way her brows pulled together and she licked over her incisor. 

Frustration bubbled up the back of Ally’s throat, pushing against her teeth as she clenched them. She struggled to hold onto it, to keep the words from snaking past her lips. To center herself and stand her ground. It was her office. It was her decision. And Lana couldn’t just march into her day and flip it on its head. 

Lana shifted, crossing one leg over the other as her heel clicked against the side of Ally’s desk. Her skirt shifted higher and it was just edging on being indecent, and as Ally held Lana’s gaze she could have sworn she saw Lana push her tongue into her cheek. And that, mixed with the predatory sparkle reflected in Lana’s eyes, had the last fraction of Ally’s patience pulled to snapping, teetering right on the edge of screaming and gnashing teeth and throwing something. Hard. 

So instead, she squeezed her knees. Took a deep breath. Met Lana’s eyes. 

“You know what? You’re right. I did change my mind. Now, instead of just cutting two lines, I’m cutting the whole thing. Congratulations.”

“What?”

“It’s not appropriate and it’s not a good story and I’m not going to let it run in this city’s newspaper.”

Lana scoffed. Blinked. “I’m sorry, did you just tell me that it wasn’t a good story?”

Ally quirked a brow challengingly. “Do you have a problem with that, Ms. Winters?”

And then Lana was up, pacing and waving her cigarette as she gesticulated. “Do you even hear yourself? You are in no way qualified to tell me that this isn’t a good story. Insult me, fine. Insult my talent, fine. But so help me, if you ever insult journalism again—“

“Get out of my office,” Ally said firmly, fire in her eyes. 

“What?”

“I said get out of my office. This meeting is over. Your request is denied.” 

Lana paused mid-step. “Senator, please. We’re already halfway in print. If you would just let me—“

But Ally stood, her voice pitching higher to counter Lana’s. “I said no, Winters! I have work to finish and papers to attend to and a city to run. So like I said before, I need you out of my office. Now.”

“Senator—“ Lana tried again, brows creased down the middle. But Ally cut her off. 

“Good day, Ms. Winters.” 

Lana growled in frustration, practically screaming through clenched teeth. “I swear you’re going to be the absolute death of me, Allyson Mayfair-Richards.” 

And as Ally watched her bend over and snatch her purse off of the chair, watched her skirt lift just so and caught a glimpse of those little purple-red marks high up on the backs of her thighs, her mouth watered. And the memory of the sounds Lana had made when Ally had sucked them there — the way her fingers had tightened in Ally’s hair as Ally smirked against her skin, hot and flushed and smelling like cigarettes — mixed with the way Ally’s full name fell off of her perfect lips, bubbling up and melting like honey even when she was angry, had Ally seriously considering the possibility that Lana Winters just might be the absolute death of her, too. 

#ally mayfair richards x lana winters #ally mayfair richards #lana winters #lana banana #american horror story #ahs #ahs cult #ahs asylum #cult #asylum #fanfiction #fanfic #ahs fanfic #ahs imagines #ahs fanfiction #smut #angst #fluff

[dolphin-enthusiast]

can i pretty pls request a match up? I'm 5'4", african american, im a scorpio, braids, brown eyes (i got serious rest bitch face but i promise im not mean im just shy and awkward) i dont speak much at first but given the chance and the time i'll talk your ear off about anything and everything! im pretty affectionate and touchy, again, given the chance and the time! i love psychology, i love 2am adventures, traveling, trying new foods, skiing and swimming! ive got adhd and anxiety so :D thank ya!

"OEURFBEFB IM SO SORRY for the 5'4" african american ask i forgot to say which anime hnnnnnnhhhhhh jjba im so sorry-"

Yo it's perfectly fine, I'm a jojo writing blog speficially lmao bebdbsbs if anything u could have said if u had any specific part in mind??

Either way, I match you with...

KAKYOIN!

Listen......yall's energies are p similar ngl. Like, Kak over here isn't the chatty type either, even if he SEEMS like it at times it's because he's doing it out of politeness but any blatant idiot could tell it's forced. But not with you. Him opening up and rambling would feel hella natural (and vice versa) and you could tell he's entirely relaxed and doesn't feel pressured to say certain things in the slightest! He'd absolutely love if you talked his ear off abt anything really, even if he has no mcfucking idea abt it. Also 100% he loves ur resting bitchface and just...knew you weren't threatening in the slightest (man's got mad talent at reading ppl.) He's extremely supportive and will ALWAYS be on the lookout for anything that could trigger your anxiety and is just...overall very wholesome and understanding of all of your problems. Kak himself is also extremely affectionate with a s/o (moreso behind closed doors tbh) and will literally m e l t if you sneak behind him and wrap your arms around his snatched waist.

Did anyone say psychology?? bc I bet his ass is lowkey interested in it for whatever reason. Tbh he just feels like he rlly likes learning abt new stuff in general just for the sake of broadening his knowledge, even more so if it's his s/o we're talking abt. And even if he ain't THAT adventurous Kak will def give skiing or swimming a try with you, don't forget he is in fact C H A O T I C. Fucking cryptid ass will go to Target or Walmart with you @ 2 am and fuck shit up just for shits and giggles. ALSO FOODS BRO HE'S SUCH AN AMAZING COOK this man could and would cook for u 25/8 literally whatev u wanted (will feel extra loved if u offer to help since he finds it very domestic and romantic; literally the embodiment of "coming behind you and putting his hands on yours to help you slice/mix shit" trope) and will literally jump thru the roof if you let him cook you traditional japanese recipes that he learned from his family.

#also u being scorpio and him a leo? yeAH #jojo's bizzare adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #stardust crusaders #noriaki kakyoin #jojo headcanons #matchups #anon

[shawnpetermuffins]

Fast Healing and Safe Travels

Connor’s backstory for We Were Us (Bonus chapter)

A/n: I wanted to give y’all a reason to root for Connor or Shawn, so here’s Connor’s and I’m working on Shawn’s. 

Summary: There have been many cases where you could have been “more” but these are the ones that stick out the most. 

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

***

You’d been attached at the hip since you were seven years old. Sam takes credit for planting the seed of your relationship. Said if it wasn’t for his fight with Connor that day on the playground (over who got to go down the slide first) you two probably would have never met. And you let him take credit for it because he’s probably right. And on that day, you gained two friends. A good friend, and a best friend. You’d vowed to yourself - even at the oh-so young age of seven - that you were going to take care of that blue eyed boy that was pushed to the ground over a slide. You helped him clean up his scraped palms and - like your mom or dad always did when you got hurt - you kissed them for fast healing. 

But you never expected that the day would come where he would have to take care of you. And you didn’t expect it to happen at the age of fourteen, after the boy you liked stood you up. You hadn’t even told Connor that you were meeting this guy; in fact, he barely knew you liked him at all. So when you called him - while he was at the skate park with Sam and a few of their other friends - crying, he was quick to go find you. The skate park wasn’t far from the ice cream shop you were sitting outside of, and he rushed. Jay walking (running) across the streets when he thought his board wouldn’t get him there fast enough. And his heart broke at the sight of your tear-stained face, mascara a smudged mess on your lower lash line. 

“Y/n, hey. What happened?” he asks, sitting down next to you, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. 

“Trevor stood me up,” you’d mumbled into his shirt, sniffling and cuddling closer to him. 

“What? Why would he do that?” He doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him that you were meeting Trevor here. He doesn’t ask why you didn’t even tell him that you liked him. He knew it wasn’t what he needed to be focusing on. Right now his best friend was heart broken in his arms and he needed to focus on making her feel better. Later he could focus on breaking Trevor’s kneecaps, but not now. Not yet. 

“I don’t know,” you sobbed and he swears he can physically feel his heart breaking in half as he pulls you closer. 

“He’s an idiot,” he seethed and he meant it. With everything inside him, he meant it. “No one in their right mind could stand up someone like you. It’s unheard of.”

You scoffed, playing with the chain of his necklace. “Whatever, Brash.”

“I’m serious. He’s crazy for standing you up. Next time I see him, I’m swinging. I swear I am.”

“No you’re not.”

“Says who? He deserves it.”

“Even if he does, you’re not going to fight him.”

“Why not?”

You pull away from his safe arms and look him dead in the eyes, yours still watering. “Because I’m asking you not to.”

He sighs and wipes away your mascara stained tears. “Okay… but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it.”

You laugh and that lets him know that yeah, you’re gonna be just fine. With time. “That makes two of us.”

He stands and holds his hand out to you. “Come on, let me buy you some ice cream. The biggest ice cream sundae they’ve got.”

You smile weakly and take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. You’re about to walk toward the door but he stops you by tugging on your hand. 

“Wait a second,” he says and you face him with a furrowed brow. You don’t even have the chance to process what’s happening until it’s over and he’s pulling away from you, licking his lips which just touched yours for the first time. Your brows are still furrowed when you finally realize what just happened. 

His thumb goes to the crease you’re creating on your forehead and he smooths it out. “You’re gonna get a headache.”

“Connor… you just kissed me.”

"I know… It wasn't bad was it?”

“No!” You rush to say, “No, just unexpected.”

He nods, “Okay. Okay, good.”

“So… why?”

He shrugs, “Fast healing.”

---

“Y/n! Y/n! Y/n! I have news. Like really big news and you’re not going to believe it.” Connor barges into your room, and jumps onto your bed, causing a few of your papers to fly to the floor. 

“What’s going on? I’ve never seen you so excited before.”

“So you know how Sam and I have been working with Madison for a while now?”

You nod, pushing your hair out of your face, “Yeah. What about it?”

“She’s going on tour this summer and she wants me to go with her to do a behind the scenes tour vlog type thing!”

“Oh my gosh! Con, that’s amazing! Did you tell your parents?”

“No, she called me and I came straight here to tell you. Y/n/n, this could jumpstart my career.” he says matter-of-factly, crawling to rest his head in your lap. Instinctively, your hands go to play with his hair. 

“I am so proud of you, bub. You deserve this more than anyone.”

He looks up at you, and his eyes shine a little bit brighter with the light of the setting sun seeping through the blinds. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been so excited for something.”

“You’re gonna do amazing. There’s no way you can’t.”

“So you think I should go then.”

“Of course I do. This is a huge thing for you. People are going to really see your work and they're gonna fall in love with it just like I have.”

“You’ve always been my biggest supporter,” he muses. 

“So how long is the tour?”

“I’d leave the day after school lets out, won’t be back until the week before we start back up.”

“Three months. Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. And I know we made plans, midnight movies and photoshoots and road trips, but -”

“Hey, don’t you worry about that. We have plenty of time to do that.” You fiddle with his necklace as you talk, “You are going on this tour and you’re going to have an amazing time. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you.”

“Well not this summer, Brashier. This summer all you’re going to worry about is lighting and sound, yeah?”

He smiles widely at you. “Yeah.”

---

You didn’t expect it to be so hard watching him go. Of course you were going to miss him, he’s your best friend. And it’s not that you were worried about what he was doing, it was just how long he’d be gone, traveling for months on end. He’s never been too good at paying attention to the world around him and that made you a little nervous because at sixteen - he should know how to take care of himself at least a little bit. But every trip he’s ever taken, you were there with him, looking out for him. You wouldn’t be this time.

“Okay, you’re absolutely sure you have everything you need.”

“Y/n, you triple checked my bag. I’m sure I have everything. If I didn’t you would have told me. I’m gonna be fine. I promise.”

“No, I know. I just -”

“Hey, remember when you told me not to worry about you? Well it’s your turn not to worry about me.”

You glare at him, “It’s not that simple. But nevertheless, I have something for you,” you reach into your bag and pull out a tiny wrapped box. “Just a small going away present so you don’t forget your best friend.”

“Yeah, like I could ever forget you.” he pulls the top off the box to reveal a silver keychain engraved ‘Travel safe. Need you here with me.’

“Y/n.”

“Look, I know you’re not really gonna be driving - thank god because you’re a horrible driver.”

“I am not!”

“How many times have I almost died in a car with you? And you’ve only had your license for six months. But anyway, I just want you to always remember to be safe.”

“Need you here with me?”

“I love Sam, but come on? Do you really think he and I will be able to make it through the summer without almost killing each other at least once a week? You gotta come back to me, Brashier, or I might lose my mind.”

He laughs, “That’s fair.” He closes the box and puts it in his carry-on. “I’ll come back. Of course I will.”

You nod, “You better.”

It’s the longest summer for the both of you. Even though you’re both working, keeping yourselves busy, you both feel like something’s missing. Which of course there is, he’s missing from your side and you from his. 

You can barely contain yourself the day he comes home. You’re rocking back and forth on your feet scanning the airport for that blue-eyed boy you’ve missed so much. 

“Oh my god, y/n. Please stay still,” Sam complains.

You roll your eyes, “I’m excited, fuck off.”

“Y/n!” You hear your name called from about fifty feet in front of you and you catch sight of your best friend. His hair is longer and floppier, but it’s him.

“Connor!” You exclaim and run to him, wrapping yourself around his body, almost knocking him to the ground. “I missed you, bub.”

He grunts, placing you back on the ground. “Missed you too, honey. So much.”

“How was it?” you pull away, fixing the shoulders of his shirt. 

“It was great. I’ve never experienced anything like it. But we can talk about that later. I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he unzips his bag and pulls out a small ziplock bag. “I would have wrapped it but, you know I suck at that.” he jokes and hands you the bag.

It’s a silver keychain, similar to the one you gave him before he left, but instead of travel safe, it says “Forever safe. I’ll always come home to you.”

“Brash.”

“Just a reminder that you don’t have to worry about me. I promise I’m always coming back, yeah?”

You shake your head, “I missed you so much, Brash. You can’t leave me alone with Sam for this long again.”

He chuckles, “I’ll try not to.”

***

Permanent tag: @soyalimoncada-blog @tinycertain @magcon7280 @daisyangei @devilmendes @babybrash @fallinallincurls @sunrisebrashx @sinceweremutual @myyohmyuohmyy @perfectly-mendess @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @baroness-alison @lostinmendess @linanilssonfurberg @luvluvxx @mariamuses @shawnieeboyy @divinginfearlessly @mendesficsxbombay @shawnsthighs

We were us: @gangofhoes @green-lxght @loveylangdon @mutuallynotmutual

* bold wouldn’t let me tag

#connor brashier #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #we were us #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine

[eponymous-rose]

I’ve also further progressed in my Vorkosigan re-read! Memory was as wonderful as I remembered (Illyan and Miles going fishing via improvised hand grenade out of boredom is always a highlight). 

I love the way Bujold structures her books---I talked about that a bunch with Mirror Dance---but Memory is just brilliantly laid out. Miles is spiraling, Miles fucks up, Miles gets fired (the closest pop-culture parallel I can think of is a superhero having to permanently revert to their mundane secret identity), Miles’s friends manage to yank him out of the mire, and then... surprise bizarre out-of-sequence murder mystery! The victim’s not dead! Miles keeps finding clues out of sequence and realizing he was meant to be framed! And god, you’re so sure it’s Haroche right at the start and then you have that moment of “oh well shit of course he thinks Miles might have it in for the boss that just eviscerated his identity” and so you’re still surprised when that first instinct was right! And then he offers Miles his life as Naismith back. Even Cordelia placed a bet on Miles giving up his life as Vorkosigan. And... he doesn’t. Mirror Dance was about Mark fracturing himself to survive. Memory is about Miles dragging himself back together to live.

I love how Illyan takes the loss of his memory chip---it’s fundamentally a piece of him gone, but it’s also freedom from thirty years of being a tool of his emperor (and then of Aral), and his embracing this destruction of his identity and learning to move forward is such a great foil/foreshadowing for Miles’s revelation. Everything in this story is about moving forward, not without regrets, but moving forward. It’s so fitting that the romance story going on in the background is Alys and Illyan, two 60-somethings, falling in love (and god, I love the scene where Miles wanders in on them in the morning and thinks something like “huh that dress is more of an evening style isn’t it?” and then like ten hours later the penny drops).

And god, Miles and Elli. I love how this was done, how it’s made apparent that you can love someone, and they can love you, and you can be very good for each other in a lot of ways, but your circumstances can still be such that marriage will annihilate one or both of you. It’s nobody’s fault, but the inevitability and recognition of it means it’s not always a devastation: “He could feel the letting-go in them, with the easing of the tension and the terror, with the slowing of every pulse of their blood. Not pain, or not so much pain, but only a just sadness, a due measure of melancholy, quiet and right.” Even when they’re quite bizarre relationships, the relationships in these books are very mature and well-thought-out from a narrative point of view, and this is a wonderful example.

Just a really, really lovely book:

No wonder he was laughing. He wasn’t mourning a death. He was celebrating an escape.

“I’m not dead. I’m here.” He touched his scarred chest in wonder.

[...]

Harra Csurik had been almost right. It wasn’t your life again you found, going on. It was your life anew.

Aaaand on to Komarr! God! I love this book! The most Miles possible meet-cute for his future wife: board at the home of her family on an investigation, have combat flashbacks on a shopping trip with her, and wind up watching her husband die horrifically while chained to a rail on a planet with a toxic atmosphere, knowing if he reacts too strongly he’s likely to have a seizure that’ll dislodge his own breathing mask, killing him in the same terrible way. You know. Rom-com stuff.

Speaking of relationships portrayed well, Ekaterin and Tien’s disaster of a marriage is extremely chilling in its realism. Even as you absolutely detest Tien, you can see how Ekaterin got yanked into that orbit, and it’s all all all so tied in with the very same aspects of Barrayaran culture that we’ve seen Miles face: Tien destroys everything because of his perception of what the response would be to his illness (where Miles, for better or worse, never had the option of hiding it), and because of his shitty insecurities about Ekaterin’s fidelity (echoes of a young Aral come to mind). We’re given explanations (his brother’s literally impossible-to-live-up-to example) but are never expected to see them as excuses, which is a very fine line to walk. The end result is a believably fucked-up relationship that draws on parallels with every single time you’ve ever thought to yourself about a friend, “Oh god sweetie you can do so much better than him”.

And Ekaterin’s thoughts about being bound to this marriage are right along the lines of the most stick-in-the-mud traditional Barrayaran loyalties we’ve seen Miles exhibit, all tangled up in language about honor. And even though it very shortly (and mortally) becomes a moot point, I love that she gets the chance to decide to leave Tien in spite of that. 

I also love the scene between Tien and Miles, talking about Nikki’s jumpship obsession, partly because of the obvious contrast between the two of them, but mostly because it illustrates how much of Tien’s awfulness is because he’s just... fundamentally a bitter coward with no imagination.

"Well, every boy goes through that phase, I suppose. We all outgrow it. Pick up all that mess, Nikki.”

Nikki’s eyes were downcast, but narrowed in brief resentment at this, Miles could see from his angle of view. The boy bent to scoop up the last of his miniature fleet.

“Some people grow into their dreams, instead of out of them,” Miles murmured.

“That depends on whether your dreams are reasonable,” said Vorsoisson, his lips twitching in rather bleak amusement. Ah, yes. Vorsoisson must be fully aware of the secret medical bar between Nikki and his ambition.

“No, it doesn’t.” Miles smiled slightly. “It depends on how hard you grow.”

The alternating POVs between Miles and Ekaterin are charming because we get to see Miles from an external (non-hostile) point of view and get all excited about each small revelation, and then we get to see Ekaterin both from Miles’s point of view and from the point of view of her own very active inner monologue, giving us insights we would otherwise have missed since she, as Miles says in the understatement of the century, has a tendency to underreact.

Their relationship is built up very carefully: there’s an obvious mutual interest practically from the first, but they both have reason to be cautious. There are those moments of genuine rapport early on, and then the shopping trip! It’s such a clever revelation, and so layered!

Miles was traumatized at Dagoola IV by watching Beatrice fall from the shuttle in front of him: he reached out to try to catch her, and just missed, and she died. And then we have this perfectly safe little parallel, with himself and Ekaterin falling off a water feature in a shopping district, and he manages to catch her, this time... and they both go over. It’s cute and oddly triumphant...

...and then he realizes exactly what it means. If he’d caught Beatrice, he’d have gone over with her. They’d both be dead, and that revelation hits right after he’s had a whole book to figure out just how badly he wants to live. And to Ekaterin, it’s a very quick summary of what and who Miles is: he’s the man who would not let go. BUT Ekaterin ALSO frames her leaving Tien in that context: she’s not just watching him fall, but purposefully releasing her hands. It’s so twisted and so complicated and such a weird little microcosm of their respective states of mind. And while part of it is Ekaterin giving Miles the little push he needed to properly process that trauma, fundamentally and on a larger timescale it places Miles as the “I’ve been in this hole before and I know the way out” path to Ekaterin’s healing. It’s so well done.

There’s also a hell of a parallel in the physical aspect of Miles’s seizures coming on unexpectedly in moments of great stress versus the psychological aspect of Ekaterin’s whole coping mechanism being built on trying desperately not to flinch or show strong emotion.

(And I don’t know where else to put this but special shout-out to the running gag of Vorkosigan House getting gradually overrun with cats, to the point where Miles starts, apropos of nothing and on a totally different planet, asking strangers if they’d like a kitten.)

These kids! Will they make it work? I may be only halfway through the book, but I have a funny feeling things might work out...

Also, here’s the “rescue” scene in full, because it delights me so:

The root-compacted soil of the edge sagged under her weight, and she began to slide precipitously forward. She yelped; pushing backward fragmented her support totally. One wildly back-grappling arm was caught suddenly in a viselike grip, but the rest of her body turned as the soil gave way beneath her, and she found herself dangling absurdly feet-down over the pond. Her other arm, swinging around, was caught, too, and she looked up into Vorkosigan’s face above her. He was lying prone on the slope, one hand locked around each of her wrists. His teeth were clenched and grinning, his gray eyes alight.

“Let go, you idiot!” she cried.

The look on his face was weirdly, wildly exultant. “Never,” he gasped, “again--”

His half-boots were locked around... nothing, she realized, as he began to slide inexorably over the edge after her. But his death-grip never slackened. The exalted look on his face melted to sudden horrified realization. The laws of physics took precedence over heroic intent for the next couple of seconds; dirt, pebbles, vegetation, and two Barrayaran bodies all hit the chilly water more or less simultaneously.

The water, it turned out, was a bit over a meter deep. The bottom was soft with muck. She wallowed upright onto her feet, one shoe gone who knew where, sputtering and dragging her hair from her eyes and looking around frantically for Vorkosigan. Lord Vorkosigan. The water came to her waist, it ought not to be over his head---no half-booted feet were sticking up like waving stumps anywhere---could he swim?

He popped up beside her, and blew muddy water out of his mouth, and dashed it from his eyes to clear his vision. His beautiful suit was sodden, and a water-plant dangled over one ear. He clawed it away, and located her, his hand going toward her and then stopping.

“Oh,” said Ekaterin faintly. “Drat.”

There was a meditative pause before Lord Vorkosigan spoke. “Madame Vorsoisson,” he said mildly at last, “has it ever occurred to you that you may be just a touch oversocialized?”

#vorkosigan saga #vorkosigan saga spoilers #long text post

[andcurioser]

So. Let’s talk about Veronica Mars. *deeeeeeeep sigh*

Ok, friends. It’s been a goddamn whirlwind for me. I actually went to the Veronica Mars panel at Comic Con, which I thought was a highlight at the time. They screened the first episode before the panel, and I was all ready to report back to you all that it was real good and to get excited for the new season, but then Hulu had to go and drop the whole damn series during the CC panel, which was a STUPID thing to do (or, at the very least, an extremely stupid thing to announce to the panel at Comic Con - the exact people who would not be able to watch it until after Comic Con, putting them at risk for some really big fucking spoilers. It’s genuinely surprising to me how little the people who are in charge think about these things. If you want to do a surprise drop (which, why, but whatever), sure, go and do it, but definitely don’t announce it to a room full of people who can’t enjoy it and expect them to be excited??). But regardless. That was just a wtf moment. I was still filled with enthusiasm and excitement and happiness that this show was back and seemed to be in good form. 

Oy. 

Cut to Tuesday morning. I got back from Comic Con on Sunday night, and life goes on, so of course I hadn’t watched 8 hours of TV by Tuesday at 7AM. Which is precisely when my dear friend, whom I adore, but who is apparently an idiot, texted me about how terrible that VM ending was and how upset she was. Now, because I’m a good friend and I know what she likes and we’ve discussed VM at length, it took me all of four seconds to know the gist of what happens in the end. I didn’t know the how or why, but I certainly knew the what. Cue fun spikes of anxiety and random bursts of rage, because what the fuck. Truly, what the fuck. But I placed my certainty at 99% and hopelessly clung to the 1% chance that I was wrong, knowing full well that I wasn’t. This obviously completely stymied any excitement I had for the show, and I dragged my heels for a full month before finally finishing the goddamn show just to get it over with. And now we’re here. 

I’ve had a month to ready myself for what I knew was coming. It was both a blessing and a curse, since while it pretty thoroughly ruined my good time, it also meant that I wasn’t totally blindsided by that ending. And man, I would have been blindsided, because there was Z E R O reason for that. None. And now I’ve read all the articles in which Rob Thomas tries to explain his reasons, and they’re all nonsense. Absolute idiocy. All I see is a guy who always, always resented the fans for loving a character he didn’t want us to, who tried and tried to redirect us to one of his preferred creations without success, and just when I thought he’d finally accepted defeat, he pulls the most nonsensical of fuckery just to finally win the battle. Fuck you, RT, forever and always. I can’t fucking believe that I allowed myself to think you’d finally seen the light. What a ridiculous fool I was for giving him the benefit of the doubt. 

Since I knew what was coming, I could look for the signs all throughout the season. So I searched for foreshadowing, or at least a narrative through-line. And let me tell you: there isn’t one. The season finally, rightfully seems to address Veronica’s deep-set trauma and trust issues but treats them like a problem and not a secret superpower, and it seemed like the show might expect Veronica to grow up along with the viewers who’ve aged 15 years since the first season? I was excited to finally have Veronica be the problem in a relationship, frankly. It was hinted at with Piz, but glossed over because there was only so much time in the movie, but it was realistic for her to have some trouble adjusting to a long-term, committed relationship, and I was excited to see that journey! I thought it was such an interesting path to go down, watching Veronica grapple with what she wants (or maybe just thinks she wants) vs. what she’s always known, or thought she knows. Lots of stuff there! Good stuff! And you get all the way to the end, when she’s finally decided to try. It isn’t fixed, it isn’t perfectly, she’s definitely got a long way to go, but she’s taken a few tentative steps into an uncertain future. And all of a sudden, quite literally, boom. It’s all gone. 

Listen. I was never going to be a fan of getting rid of Logan. However they chose to do it, it would always feel wrong. I have never trusted Rob Thomas to handle Logan well, because he’s always had this undercurrent of anger in every interview I’ve read, this frustration that people love and respond to Logan when he wanted them to love Duncan! Then Piz! Then anyone else! His creations took on a life of their own, and RT hated it. RT was one of the ultimate examples of writers/show runners who were simply watching a completely different show than the rest of us. I could never understand how he wrote such interesting stuff for Logan but didn’t want us to root for him. It never made any sense. But I didn’t think he would sabotage his own show this thoroughly. 

Because here’s the thing: I was never going to like him getting rid of Logan, but I could have understood it. I could have gone along with it if it had been done right. Frankly, the way it was building, it wouldn’t have been a surprise, nor would it even have been a bad choice, to have Logan break up with Veronica at the end of the season. And if RT couldn’t handle Veronica not being the aggressor, fine, make Veronica do it. She decides she isn’t willing to put in the work to change that Logan needs from her, and she ends it. Fine. Could work, at least for a few seasons. Let her deal with the loss, knowing it was something she chose, and see how it affects her priorities as she continues on. Certainly could be interesting! 

You know what isn’t interesting? This. This is the only - the ONLY - plotline that’s a watered down repeat of a previous story. Veronica Mars, traumatized and hardened by the shocking loss of someone close to her? Quite literally, been there, done that. I know RT has been trying to recapture the magic of season one for every season and iteration since, but just repeating the storyline? Really, really missing the mark. There isn’t anything new that can be added to this. We’ve done this. This will only ever be a pale imitation, a tacked-on sequel hitting the same beats with less force. Lilly was a fantastic inciting incident that yielded a tight, well-thought-out season arc. But why would we want to start over 15 years later? What’s to be gained from this? Literally ANY other ending would have yielded multiple storytelling options, branching out with so many possibilities on where the characters could go. This is the only one that simply slams doors shut. 

The few supporters of this ending I’ve seen around the interwebs keep saying things like “this show wouldn’t work if Veronica was happy!” Hell, Rob Thomas is saying the same thing. And to that idiocy, I can only say 1. of course it would, if you write it well, dumbass, and 2. if you think Veronica getting married immediately = happiness, well, what the hell show were you watching? The marriage, much as it could represent a step forward, was still VERY CLEARLY a huge, impulsive jump that was more a reaction than a measured decision. And that was something I was looking forward to seeing. Fresh off of a near-death experience and a renewed assurance of her love for Logan, Veronica marries him thinking that’s the end of their troubles, only to realize that it’s just another complication. Now Veronica has to deal with the new experience of having no quick exit strategy. All the problems they had throughout the season still exist, thinly covered by the veil of newlywed bliss, and she has to reconcile her happiness with her frustration and uncertainty. Logan still disappears at the drop of a hat because of his job. She still puts herself in danger for the case and uses loved ones and acquaintances alike to her full advantage. They hide things from each other. They love fiercely, they trust the other with their own lives but can’t trust each other to take care of themselves. Doesn’t this sound like a complicated, tumultuous relationship full of narrative possibilities? 

Well, forget it, because why break new ground when you could retread old storylines? Yeah, that’s what we all want. Great job, RT. So smart. 

Something that keeps bothering me is that if RT didn’t want Logan around as the happy husband at home but didn’t want to write more relationship drama between them? He already had the perfect excuse to ship Logan off for entire seasons at a time. Look, Logan’s deployed, oh no, he can’t even skype, he’s undercover! Cool, problem solved. No more Logan, but in a way that still maintains possibilities for the future should we want them. Ideal. Again, options. All you want are places for your narrative to go. Multiple roads it could take so it doesn’t become predictable. 

This is predictable. This is boring. This is trite. Our heroes, struck down in their highest moment of happiness. Holy fuck, it’s dull. It doesn’t feel edgy. It feels derivative, a tired rehash of a narrative structure that should have gone out of vogue ten years ago. The whole thing just exhausts me at this point. 

And I’ve read Rob Thomas’s justification for why he did it. They’re all flimsy, but if he wants to go do a Sherlock-style, Ms. Marple mystery series, flitting in and out as he pleases, fine. It won’t be the worst show in the world. Veronica’s still a fun and interesting character, and I’ll always enjoy watching her. But removing her from Neptune, and more importantly, removing her from all of her meaningful relationships, takes away what made this show special. The new version RT is pitching could be fun enough. But it’ll still be just one in a long, long line of mystery shows that don’t have much claim to my emotional investment. I might watch, but I’ll forget about it the second it’s over. It certainly won’t be the kind of show with a fanbase that will still be interested in watching more 15 years from now. Rob Thomas won’t be getting one of those again. 

So yeah, that’s that. I have much more to say, but really I just wanted to get this rant out so I can put it all behind me. I learned long ago that I can’t trust shows and showrunners, and it’s a lesson I learned partly, if significantly, from Rob Thomas. I suppose it’s on me for letting my guard down, but I guess my hope got grandfathered in from an age when I didn’t immediately mistrust the things that were supposed to make me happy. I’ll know better next time. 

#veronica mars #veronica mars spoilers #just in case #so i'll just be here selectively ignoring canon because frankly i know better #the ending was so stupid and tacked on that it's honestly pretty easy to ignore #mostly i'm just fired up about a showrunner mistreating his fanbase so badly after they've stuck with him through so much #just a baffling misuse of the support he was so lucky to still have #so i'll be cherry-picking the parts of s4 i liked with one hand and flipping rob thomas off forever with the other

[elyvorg]

Still a Hero - author’s commentary (part 1)

I spent almost all my time for two months planning and writing this fic of mine centred around Kaito’s issues, and that amount of thinking-about-something doesn’t just go away once the thing is finished. So this is the first of two posts (the second being here) full of some of my thoughts about the fic, for any readers who might be interested. This one’s focused on Kaito’s issues and character arc in it, kind of like one of my regular Kaito analysis posts except that it’s about the fic rather than any canon Kaito content.

Why this fic exists

People familiar with my Kaito posts (and if you’re new to my blog because the fic brought you here, I suggest taking a look at this one in particular before reading this) will know how much I like to think about Kaito being terrified he won’t be able to support or inspire his sidekicks any more if they see his weakness, and how excruciatingly wrong that is of him. And it’s not just wrong because of course his friends will still care about him and be inspired by his Kaito-ness no matter what, but also because the fact that he’s suffering and yet fighting through it anyway only makes him even more inspiring of a hero than if he wasn’t struggling with anything at all.

This should be obvious to Kaito – he spends so much time calling himself a hero and wanting to inspire people that he should perfectly well be able to realise that overcoming genuine struggles is more impressive and inspiring and heroic to others than simply winning everything without effort. But since he hasn’t already figured this out and remains convinced that heroes simply have to be invincible or else they’re not good enough, it always seemed to me like Kaito was never going to be able to figure this out on his own. I assumed that, to fix things, he’d need someone else to point at his concept of heroes and go “hey, that’s stupid, and here are the obvious reasons why”, letting him finally see things from a new perspective and realise “huh, yeah, it kind of is, now that you mention it”. That’s why most of the AUs I’ve thought about that would eventually lead to Kaito seeing sense about this tended to involve somehow forcing him to show weakness against his will at first. That way, his sidekicks can realise what the issue is, in order to then be able to talk him through why it shouldn’t even be an issue at all.

However! The scenario of Kaito being tortured with the stakes being his sidekicks’ lives offered a unique opportunity: to make Kaito realise what being a hero is really about (and therefore that it’s okay to show weakness to his sidekicks) entirely on his own.

I realised this as I was throwing hypothetical ideas for this scenario around with my friend antialiasis without any intention of ever actually writing a fic of this. At first I was imagining how Kaito would react in the aftermath of being tortured, namely in his usual Kaito way of insisting he’s Completely Fine. Since his friends knew he’d been tortured, there wouldn’t be any point trying to hide his injuries, so okay sure whatever it physically hurt and his wounds need some time to heal – but he’d still be insisting that psychologically he’s obviously totally unaffected and not letting it get to him one bit. And Maki would call him the absolute fuck out, because she’s been tortured and she knows that nobody could possibly be psychologically okay afterwards, and this would be the inroad needed in this universe for her and Shuichi to gradually talk Kaito into showing vulnerability and letting them help him.

It occurred to me that this situation in particular might make things a little easier for Kaito to accept that being weak doesn’t make him less of a hero, because no matter how hurt and scared he was by the torture, he still never actually let his sidekicks down by giving them up to the cult, and that’s the most important part. And then, because of this, it occurred to me that, hey, why even wait for the aftermath? Kaito might just be able to realise this while he’s being tortured, before Maki and Shuichi even rescue him, without them needing to help him come to that conclusion at all.

And I just had to write that. Kaito figuring it out on his own is such a unique way, one that had never even occurred to me as being possible before, to reach the Kaito-learns-to-show-vulnerability outcome that I always crave from Kaito-centric AUs.

I genuinely think this might be the only way it’s possible to get Kaito to figure this out all on his own. He’s such an idiot about this that he’d need to have this blatant, illustrative example of himself indisputably not letting his sidekicks down even while being very openly “weak” and scared. I’m not sure how else that could even happen. (I mean, I’m open for suggestions of other scenarios that could do this, but I can’t think of any myself.)

Three phases to the arc

As I thought about this some more and things started to take shape in my head as a narrative, I determined that Kaito’s character arc throughout this would essentially come in three distinct phases.

Phase 1: stubborn posturing in which he tells himself he’s totally fine and basically invincible and the torture isn’t getting to him at all, not really (because if it was then he couldn’t possibly be a hero, and he needs to be a hero). While it deteriorates somewhat as things progress, this is nonetheless by far the longest phase, lasting most of five chapters or about half the fic’s page count, because Kaito is just that stubborn. That and he’s legitimately very resilient with very high pain tolerance, such that the torture genuinely isn’t getting to him quite as fast as it would for the average person, even beneath his false bravado.

Phase 2: having finally properly admitted to himself that the torture is getting to him and that he’s hurting and scared as all hell, being convinced that this means he’s weak and letting his sidekicks down, because this is all the things a hero should never ever be (right?). As such, he becomes openly terrified of breaking, and almost certain that he’s definitely going do so any moment, as soon as the pain gets bad enough that he just can’t take it any more.

Phase 3: realising that no matter how hurt and scared he is, he’s still not breaking and is never ever going to. (Because of course he never would; that part was never in question. There is already infinite canon evidence that Kaito is more terrified of letting his sidekicks down than of any amount of pain and suffering he could ever go through himself.) Once Kaito realised this, even his own self-loathing and unreasonably high standards wouldn’t be able to deny that, actually, no, this is freaking amazing of him and not weak at all, leading him to finally figure out that this is what being a hero really means and that he’s always been one this whole time.

These three phases should make it clear why the fic needed to be as long as it ended up being. Phase 3 was the ultimate goal of the fic, but that couldn’t happen without first reaching phase 2 in which Kaito openly believed he was about to break. And getting through Kaito’s ridiculous levels of surface stubbornness in phase 1 to even get him to phase 2 in the first place was going to take some doing. That process was also something I really needed to show happening – I couldn’t just skip most of phase 1 offscreen to jump in at phase 2 and expect people to buy it, because Kaito as an openly terrified near-broken wreck is so antithetical to the general image of Kaito that something like that needed to be earned with enough build-up to show how things got to that point. Hopefully I did a satisfying job of gradually breaking Kaito down in every way except the only one that ever truly mattered (the way in which he’d never break at all).

The psychological approach

In order to not make the fic be any more drawn-out that it needed to be, I spent a lot of time thinking about how to break through Kaito’s stubbornness as efficiently as possible, deliberately using tortures that’d get to him psychologically as well as physically. His physical endurance and pain tolerance really is incredible, so if he’d been suffering just physical pain and nothing else, it’d have taken way longer to get past phase 1 than it already did.

(This is also kind of where most of Takehira’s character as someone very carefully psychologically manipulative came from – he needed to be the kind of person who’d have made the same choices I had of how best to go about breaking Kaito as fast as possible. Except, of course, for the part where Takehira had absolutely no idea how genuinely strong Kaito was beneath it all and believed he’d just actually break once his surface stubbornness collapsed.)

In particular, I had a running theme of things that would make Kaito feel helpless, because I knew that’d be the absolute worst for him. Usually, as we see in canon, Kaito can more or less deal with basically any kind of awful situation that’s thrown at him so long as he’s able to feel like he’s doing something to make a difference. Even if he knows it might not really make much of a difference at all, so long as he has something, he can focus on that to distract himself from how bad things are. But take away whatever sense of power and control he’s trying to cling to and make him feel like there’s nothing he can do at all, and suddenly Kaito finds it a lot harder to cope.

And having something to do is important for Kaito not only in that it helps distract him from the pain but also in that it helps distract him from thinking about how he’s feeling, namely the fact that this is getting to him psychologically and surely that must mean he’s weak and not a hero at all. In a way, the biggest contributor to the gradual breakdown of Kaito’s stubbornness throughout phase 1 is not Takehira’s psychological tactics but Kaito himself: his own unreasonably high standards for heroes and the way he treats himself when he inevitably doesn’t match up to them. Kaito is absolutely the type to torture himself, and that’s not just in a literal physical sense like he did in chapter 2, but also in the sense of constantly berating himself and tearing himself down over any kind of “weakness” that slips through his defences. He beats himself up far too much simply for being a goddamn human being who suffers when he’s tortured, because obviously real heroes wouldn’t ever be that way, right? If it wasn’t for Kaito’s tendency to think like that, he’d have lasted so much longer before reaching absolute rock bottom.

Kaito being alone here also significantly affects how he responds to this compared to how he usually acts in stressful situations – because he has no-one to keep up a heroic façade in front of in order to encourage them. If one of Shuichi or Maki was also there and being tortured along with him, or even if Kaito just happened to be being tortured alongside one of the other kids from the cult, the possibility that he could help them through their suffering by continuing to put a brave face on things would have allowed him to do that so much more than he could on his own. That’s really an automatic thing for him: that selfless luminary instinct of “I need to be strong so I can give them strength” genuinely fills Kaito with a near-bottomless fountain of strength completely unconsciously, as well as giving him something to be distracting himself with and feel like he’s doing to make a difference. But because he’s the only one here, he simply doesn’t have that to draw on.

(And even then, even though it shouldn’t matter to him what anyone else in this place thinks of him because none of his torturers are going to be helped by it, Kaito still cares way more than he should about how Takehira and the henchmen are seeing him. This is really about nothing but how Kaito’s own self-image is slowly deteriorating, especially since Takehira makes it clear from the start that he already sees him as weak and believes any strength is just empty posturing, yet Kaito still frequently frames things in terms of what he must look like to them. His self-image is so rooted in other people’s image of him that this just keeps being a thing even when it shouldn’t actually matter. And what’s fun is that I didn’t even consciously think about having Kaito do this; my mental simulation of Kaito just did, and I made this observation about it after the fact.)

Why Kaito lies to himself

You may have noticed how Kaito spends the first chapter and a half avoiding any direct acknowledgement of the fact that he’s even in pain, and much longer than that, basically the entirety of phase 1, refusing to admit that he’s scared. This might just seem to be because Kaito is well-practiced at lying to himself – but the thing is, he’s not.

I gave this a lot of thought upon realising I was going to have to write this in Kaito’s POV, which was not a thing I’d done before and quite a more daunting task than writing Kaito from the outside. How much weakness Kaito shows on the surface is an easy thing to predict, because we get so much evidence in canon of how that works for him (the answer, of course, being very goddamn little). But how much he consciously acknowledges to himself beneath the surface even though he doesn’t show it? That’s a matter that’s much harder to gauge.

That said, there are some pieces of canon evidence that can help us get a sense of this. The first is the two scenes where we see Kaito coughing up blood on his own. Because he’s alone, this should be a lot closer to the way he deals with things inside his head than anything we see when he’s around the others. While he’s trying to remain determined in the things he’s saying, you can tell from his demeanour that he’s clearly very consciously aware of how bad things are and how scared he is. It does not for a second look like he’s actually managing to convince himself that he’s Totally Fine like he pretends to be in front of the others. He knows how bad things are; he’s just trying – not all that successfully – to stay as positive as he can about it, because doing otherwise would be pointlessly moping and practically tantamount to giving up, and Kaito hates doing either of those things.

The other even more clear canon evidence of the extent to which Kaito consciously acknowledges his “weakness” beneath the surface is his Harmonious Heart event. This is the one time we actually get to see a small snippet of his inner monologue, and, delightfully, it’s in a context which is extremely relevant to this. He calls himself “weak” for having just a brief pessimistic thought, then goes on to berate himself for it and get caught up in worrying about what would happen if Shuichi ever saw this “weakness” from him. So, clearly, even though he never admits to it on the surface, Kaito very much can and will consciously notice his weakness, and apparently this is liable to set his thoughts off into a self-deprecating spiral of feeling like this means he’s not good enough for his sidekicks. This is some excellent, exceedingly useful information for this fic that I’m very glad I had. Have I ever mentioned that Kaito’s Harmonious Heart event is the freaking best.

Still, even if Kaito believes he secretly is weak, so long as his sidekicks don’t know that and he continues to appear on the surface to be the invincible hero that they totally need to see him as, then it’s okay and he’s not failing them. All he’s dealing with in that case is the fear that he might possibly fail them one day, if he slips up and lets them see some kind of weakness from him. This is the case in the canon killing game when Kaito has plenty of things to be scared about – and while it wouldn’t have been a thing in UTDP during his time at Hope’s Peak, in which Kaito genuinely was completely fine, it would have become an issue in my AU once they were on the run from the cult. Kaito would have been fully aware of just how lost and terrified and not-actually-invincible-at-all he was beneath the surface, and he’d have been constantly afraid that if his sidekicks ever realised that, there’d be nothing at all he could do for them to keep boosting their spirits and no reason for him to have even come along. The evidence from canon indicates that he’d still have been able to acknowledge that weakness to himself, even if he’d have hated doing so.

However, while Kaito is being tortured, it’s a very different thing altogether. Usually, Kaito’s worry is that he will fail his sidekicks if they see his weakness. But here, suddenly the apparent problem is that if Kaito is weak at all (and he’d already begun to feel like he is during their time on the run), he will fail his sidekicks, so badly that they will die. This entire thought is such an absolutely inconceivable Nope for Kaito that, from the moment he realises those are the stakes here, he begins to block out acknowledgement of any kind of “weakness”, completely subconsciously.

Right at the beginning of chapter 1 of the fic, I very deliberately put in a few brief bits of Kaito acknowledging pain (when his head hurts from the drug he was kidnapped with) and at least vaguely acknowledging fear (when he freaks out upon thinking Shuichi and Maki might already be dead), specifically to try and illustrate that Kaito would usually be okay with somewhat admitting to these things in his head. But all that stops the moment it hits him that he’s going to be tortured. Lying to himself this completely is not normally a thing that Kaito does or is even that good at doing – but in this situation, it’s his only way to escape from the notion that he’s already failing them.

Kaito appears to compare the thought that he’s about to be tortured to the event horizon of a black hole, as if, once he acknowledges what’s going to happen to him, he’ll be sucked into an awful inescapable abyss. But the real black hole isn’t the thought of the torture itself, but rather the thought that he’s not going to be strong enough to endure it. Kaito’s mental spaceship does absolutely everything it can to stay outside of that event horizon for as long as possible, and it manages to do so for almost five whole chapters. The narration says the “spaceship” swerved off-course, but it never actually says it swerved towards the black hole. It was actually swerving even further away.

In the usual situation where Kaito is terrified that the breaking point would be letting other people see his “weakness”, he can avoid that by just stubbornly refusing to let anyone see it. He is very, very good at this and can practically keep it up forever, which is precisely why he’s never going to learn on his own that he really has nothing to be afraid of. However, in this situation, where the terrifying breaking point is just him being “weak” in the first place, and so he tries to avoid it by lying to himself about it – well, that’s not something he can keep up forever. So, sooner or later, Kaito is going to be forced to confront the supposed breaking point and ultimately see that nothing was ever going to break at all. That’s why being tortured is quite possibly the only situation in which Kaito would ever figure this out on his own: for the exact same reason as why it makes him try to lie to himself in the first place.

The event horizon

As Kaito justifies to himself at one point in the fic, he’s not stupid enough to have literally tried to convince himself that being tortured wasn’t even going to hurt. Him not acknowledging the pain for a chapter and a half is less him trying to make himself believe that it’s not there at all and more just him trying to gloss over thinking about it, because obviously it’s irrelevant and totally something he can just ignore. (And, again, canon evidence indicates Kaito is legitimately very good at ignoring constant pain, at least up to a certain point.) A real hero would definitely be able to grin and bear the pain like it’s nothing, right?

As the pain gets too much for him to just ignore and begins to get to him in ways that he can’t quite fully deny, this wears down Kaito’s confidence in himself and makes him begin to worry that he might not be strong enough. But since pain is after all supposed to be the point of torture, he can just about let himself concede this much while only ending up a little less sure if he can hold on, rather than finding himself utterly certain that this means he can’t. Acknowledging the fact that he’s hurting is not quite enough on its own to be the event horizon that pushes him irreversibly into phase 2.

Fear, though, is an entirely different matter. Fear is all in the mind, and therefore it’s definitely something Kaito should have control over, isn’t it? He should totally be able to just prevent himself from feeling it at all, obviously. Any halfway-decent hero would be able to do that. And so, if he does feel fear anyway, then that’s just him being weak and not remotely heroic. More to the point, if he’s letting himself be scared of the torture, that means that sooner or later he’s going to be so scared of it that he’ll definitely betray his sidekicks just to make it stop, won’t he?

…The thing is, Kaito is not one of those people with a misconception about what “coward” means in that they think simply being scared in the first place makes someone a coward. He knows what courage is, and he can apply that concept completely correctly when it comes to helping his sidekicks face their fears and overcome them (or when it comes to villains who are cowards). But heroes? It’s different for heroes. Heroes are not supposed to get scared in the first place. If they ever do, then the question of whether or not they’re able to be brave about it doesn’t matter, because they’ve already failed the moment they let themselves become scared at all. So it just doesn’t even cross Kaito’s mind that of course he’s still brave enough to refuse to make the torture stop even though it’s scaring him.

Plus, because he’s blocking out acknowledging his fear in general, and because he’s blocking out any thoughts of getting his sidekicks killed even harder than that, Kaito never gets a chance to properly reflect on the fact that he is quite obviously more scared of letting his sidekicks down and losing them than he is of the torture itself. If he’d realised that, he might have been able to figure out from the very beginning that it was simply not possible that he’d ever break.

But he’s not capable of figuring that out. As such, the mere thought that he’s scared is the awful inescapable event horizon of definitely-getting-his-sidekicks-killed that Kaito is so desperately trying to avoid for the first half of the fic. It’s therefore also the point that I needed to force him into in order to get him to phase 2 of his character arc and closer to the fic’s goal.

Thinking about nothing everything

Chapter 4, despite being the shortest Kaito chapter in the fic, is perhaps one of the most important for this, because Kaito spends almost all of it doing nothing but thinking. He would have distracted himself by going at the rail again, but one single attempt reminding himself of the horrific ordeal it was last time was enough to put a stop to that. And then he would have distracted himself by just deliberately thinking of something unrelated, like another Space-Themed Coping Mechanism, but since he was trying to sleep, he didn’t really want to do that either – plus he might have been too mentally exhausted to even be able to focus on something like that for long.

So Kaito spends most of that near-sleepless night trying to think about nothing at all, and therefore constantly having his empty mind bombarded by intrusive thoughts about all the things going on with him that he doesn’t want to acknowledge: his immediate physical problems of being hurt and hungry and thirsty, not to mention his worries about how he’s failing and losing. He’d begun to make noises that sounded undeniably like screaming, and he also couldn’t really deny that he’d basically given up trying to break free from the rail and any words claiming otherwise were empty, both of which are clearly very unheroic things for him to have done. As much as he tried to wave away thoughts like that whenever they came, being as exhausted as he was made doing so more difficult than it’d usually be, and a whole night of barely-suppressed self-deprecation really wore down his confidence a lot.

But even worse than Kaito’s gradually-increasing self-loathing over how he’d responded to what he’d already been through were the thoughts of what was coming up. He knew full well that the torture was only going to keep getting worse, and he’d been very pointedly avoiding thinking about that from the beginning. Doing that might lead to the notion that he’s scared of how bad it’ll get, especially now that he’s growing more and more sure that he’s not really strong enough to handle it at all. If he properly acknowledged these thoughts and followed them to their endpoint, he’d already reach the conclusion that he’s never going to be able to hold on long enough to keep his sidekicks alive. Out of his sheer unconscious determination to avoid that event horizon no matter what, Kaito somehow still stubbornly manages to dodge any direct acknowledgment that he’s afraid for the entire mostly-sleepless night. Somehow.

I honestly wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed this at first, only that he had to have done so one way or another for his arc to progress like I’d planned. So writing Kaito in the beginning of chapter 5, before the water torture starts, was kind of interesting in that I didn’t really realise until after I’d written it that the mindset I’d instinctively written him being in actually answers that question. He’s just kind of in-the-moment, passively reacting to the things happening without thinking beyond them. He fights back against being tied up, but that’s more just for the sake of wanting to seem like someone who’d fight back than because he actually has any conscious intent to try and escape. And for the whole time he’s being dragged towards the sink, he doesn’t even register that that’s where they’re taking him, let alone worry about why that might be; he’s only thinking about how being dragged hurts and nothing more.

That’s because the only way Kaito could get through the night without falling apart already from how scared he was of the future was by subconsciously shifting himself into a mindset that doesn’t even acknowledge that there’s a future at all. He began to only allow himself to think about whatever’s happening right now, and nothing else. As such, it’s hard to be afraid of or want to try and escape what’s coming when he’s refusing to even let himself think about the fact that something bad is coming in the first place.

Another interesting thing I didn’t really do on purpose in chapter 5 is that Kaito barely even invokes the word “hero” to himself in it until the breaking point, despite having done so all the time in the past four chapters. He’s already subconsciously learned from all the thought-dodging he did all night that trying to tell himself he’s a hero is only going to lead to the conclusion that he definitely isn’t really one at all. (The one time he does use the word is the brief bit where he first sees himself in the mirror, since that’s a whole new source of proof-he’s-not-a-hero that he hadn’t already spent all night training himself to avoid thinking about.)

The space-off

Kaito’s whole space thing in the main part of chapter 5 was more than just a coping mechanism – it was also kind of a desperate last stand of his surface stubbornness and “strength” and insistence that this isn’t getting to him at all. And that’s… kind of why he falls apart so completely when he trips up on it just the once.

If he’d properly acknowledged it as a coping mechanism, accepting that that’s okay because he kind of needs one right now against this water torture that’s awful and terrifying and incredibly hard to hold on through, then it’d have been easy for him to pick it right back up after he forgot Atlas that one time. He’d have been able to reassure himself that sure, that’s bound to happen once or twice, but it’ll still be easier for him to cope if he can keep it up for as long as possible. But, you know, that’d have required Kaito to accept and be okay with his vulnerability, which, ha ha, not a chance, not in phase 1.

Interestingly – and this is another thing that kind of just happened without me deliberately meaning it to – Kaito’s other Space Coping Mechanism of picturing constellations at the end of chapter 3 is something he was rather more consciously aware of being a coping mechanism than the one in chapter 5. He basically admitted for that one that he just needed something to distract himself, and deliberately began doing it with that in mind.

I think the reason that the one here in chapter 5 is different is because Kaito is so close to the precipice of realising how “weak” he is and falling apart. In that state, he can’t afford to admit to even the slightest ounce of needing a coping mechanism like he could just about allow himself to do before. So while he starts the planets thing out of a subconscious desperation to find a way to distract himself and cope, on the surface of his thoughts he twists it into something different, something that totally proves he’s strong and in control and winning at last.

Which is really just setting himself up to crash and burn hard, sooner or later. He made it into this competition that he had to win in a last-ditch effort to prove after all that he doesn’t lose, as if that’d put him back to how relatively-strong he felt at the beginning and totally erase all the many times he feels like he’s lost up to this point. And to prove that, his performance has to be perfect without even the slightest crack or flaw, just like everything else about him has needed to be. So, upon messing up just once (though he frantically scrambles to justify that as an outlier he can paper over because of course he doesn’t want to admit defeat so easily), that means he’s not good enough, proving once and for all that all those losses really were deserved and he was never as strong as he thought. Especially when he opens his eyes and sees himself and realises what this looked like to his torturers – of course it was never actually “proving” that he’s invincible and not even remotely suffering, and they never saw it that way. Still, what they probably actually saw it as was a frustratingly effective coping mechanism that he was being really annoyingly stubborn about keeping up. But Kaito can’t see that; he can only see the fact that he needed such an extreme coping mechanism as proof of how pathetically desperate he’d become.

The black hole’s centre

If the “event horizon” of this metaphorical black hole was Kaito admitting that he’s scared, then the black hole’s gravity, the pull that he can no longer escape once he’s admitted that, was the force of Kaito’s own self-loathing when he doesn’t live up to his unreasonable standards for heroes. The torture only nudged him closer to that event horizon by weakening his mental fortitude and ability to fight against it, but he was really pulling himself in the entire time. Compared to how impressively long it took Kaito to get from “this is fine, I can handle this” to “damn it, I’m scared” throughout phase 1, it’s a really quick descent from there into the endpoint of “they’re going to die because of me” in phase 2. That’s a mental leap that you’d expect would take much longer for most people than the first leap. And he doesn’t even spend that much of that period being actually tortured.

…Okay, so I’ll give Kaito some credit: he did still try and fight back against being pulled all the way in to that point. My original plan of his thought process in chapter 6 went somewhat differently to in the finished fic: he was supposed to lament how he shouldn’t have come on the run with Maki and Shuichi earlier, and then those thoughts would lead in to the realisation that they were going to die because of him. Except, as I was writing Kaito after he’d failed to get at the antidote and was left alone with his thoughts, he just… utterly refused to think about Shuichi and Maki at all no matter how I tried to write it. Apparently, he was already subconsciously aware that being this scared obviously meant he was going to get them killed (you can see this in chapter 5 as his desperate wish to see them again ends with an unresolved “but…”, because he already felt like he wasn’t going to). So he just didn’t even want to think about them at all, because it’d inevitably lead to him having to consciously confront that unbearable fact. Even in phase 2, Kaito was still being stubborn and trying to lie to himself about this one last thing.

Takehira’s line where he reacts to Kaito’s desperate antidote gambit by pointing out that this proves he’s already broken was added after I realised this, so that I could externally nudge him that final step into acknowledging the last thought he was running away from. Then it only made sense for Kaito to acknowledge the thought that he was getting his friends killed and break down crying first, before thinking about anything else. Only then, with the awful “truth” out in the open and absolutely nothing left to lose psychologically, could Kaito finally let his thoughts flow as freely and as self-loathingly as I wanted them to.

There were a lot of those thoughts to get through, after all. Having Kaito in this broken state of not even trying to convince himself he’s a hero any more was a rare chance to have him openly admit to all of the things that he’s always been secretly afraid are true: that he can’t do anything to help his sidekicks, that he doesn’t even deserve to call them that when they obviously don’t need him, that if they’re really the heroes then that must mean they’re basically invincible and totally never suffered at all. None of this is anything especially novel to this specific situation – it’s all basically stuff I’ve lengthily talked about in many of my Kaito rambles in other posts – but still, it deserved to be here, too.

As I mentioned earlier, while Kaito would not usually be outright lying to himself about worries of this nature, he’d also normally be forcing himself to stay optimistic, trying to pull himself off any trains of thought like this before he reached their destination. He’s not supposed to wallow in bad thoughts when he could be trying to find a way to stay positive! But here, with how much he’s been suffering and hating himself, and with his surface stubbornness and determination to find a way to be a hero just completely broken, Kaito doesn’t have it in him to even try and stop it any more. Especially not after having just had a huge awful sobbing fit, the lingering emotions from which would make him way more likely to just hop on negative trains of thought than he’d usually be.

Even so, some of this part didn’t quite read right in an earlier draft. I’d made the tone of his thoughts sound just a little too much like pessimistically accepting defeat, which still didn’t quite feel in-character for Kaito, even at rock bottom like he was. I had to do some more editing on some of these bits, keeping the content of his thoughts the same but making the tone of them come across as more angry and bitter and viciously self-deprecating. That read better, because that’s a lot closer to behaviour we know Kaito definitely leans into when he’s not having a good time. But giving up? Not quite. Not really, not even when he thinks he has.

Finally honest, but so, so wrong

See, one very fun thing about writing Kaito in phase 2 was that, now that he’s openly terrified and not even slightly trying to gloss over how awful the torture is, it becomes more and more obvious just how strong he’s being to endure it all. Yet he’s so consumed by his own self-loathing over not being straight-up invincible that he completely fails to notice that himself.

At the end of chapter 5, Kaito wonders why Takehira’s even still asking the question when Kaito’s already obviously lost the “competition”. He got so wrapped up in feeling like he had to “win” by never running out of planets and moons to answer with that he practically forgot the reason why Takehira was actually asking him where his sidekicks are. Really, Kaito won that whole thing by never telling the truth – heck, he refused to even say they were on Earth! No matter how terrified he became, it never even crossed his mind that there was a way he could end it! But because of how vehemently he insisted on the space thing as something he had to win, because he thinks that simply being scared is unacceptable, he utterly fails to realise how strong he’s just been and ends the chapter feeling like a horrible pathetic failure rather than the shaken but defiant victor he actually is.

(Takehira just about managed to pick up on this, and that’s why he stopped when he did. He was expecting it to only take a little more to break Kaito after he lost hold of the coping mechanism and became a lot more visibly terrified – but Kaito’s “go to hell”, pathetic and desperate as it was, proved that he still had some fight left in him and probably wasn’t going to break quite so soon after all. Takehira could have kept going anyway, but that ran the risk of making Kaito realise that he was still winning and possibly restore some of his confidence in himself. Can’t have that. …Again, in some ways, Takehira is basically a manifestation of my writing process as I figured out how best to psychologically break Kaito – except for the part where Takehira really did think the water torture would be enough to break him entirely and was quite frustrated when it didn’t. Strike-9 is expensive, damn it; he was hoping he wouldn’t have to resort to that.)

And then there’s the beginning of chapter 6 when Kaito tries to sit up or at least glare at Takehira – sure, he’s hurt and scared enough that he can’t quite manage either, but the fact that he tried at all still shows defiance and proves that he hasn’t given up, not really. Despite Kaito becoming absolutely convinced that he won’t be able to hold on against the poison forever, he still never stops trying to do anything he can to hold on for at least a little bit longer anyway. He genuinely believes at this point that it’s impossible for him, but even though he’s not remotely consciously thinking about making the impossible possible, that’s still what he’s trying to do, because that’s just a completely instinctive part of what makes him Kaito! If Kaito has anything that could really almost be thought of as a superpower, it’s a complete inability to truly fall into despair no matter how bad things get, and that even applies when on the surface he very much thinks there’s no hope left.

Even as Kaito is increasingly tearing himself apart and calling himself weak and pathetic for being a human being who suffers when he’s tortured, he is also being increasingly amazing for still refusing to break regardless. I may be the author of this fic who’s out-universely responsible for putting Kaito through this hell in the first place, but I also spent most of phase 2 wishing I could just reach into the story and tell him over and over again how strong and brave he is until he believes it.

But, well, the point of this fic was to get him to figure that out on his own. To do that I needed to keep dragging him towards a terrible moment of being absolutely certain he’s going to break right here, so that when he doesn’t, he can finally begin to see himself for the hero he is. Chapter 6 ended up way longer than I was expecting it to be, partly because there were a lot of self-loathing issuey thoughts I wanted Kaito to get through while he was in a state of mind in which he’d openly think them, but also just because Kaito really did need to spend that long in increasingly awful fear and agony before he reached the apparent breaking point. Kaito is still so amazingly resilient even when he doesn’t realise it, and it didn’t feel like it would seem right that someone as strong as him had been brought down to really genuinely thinking he couldn’t take it any more without such a long period of agonising build-up. This fic needed to be as long as it is both in phase 2 as well as phase 1 because, even when he doesn’t believe in himself at all, Kaito is incredible.

His friends didn’t come too soon

It might seem like it would have been better for Shuichi and Maki to have rescued Kaito earlier if they could have, in that he’d have suffered less torture. But if they’d done so before he had his epiphany that restored his confidence in himself, things would have been way worse for Kaito’s psychological state in the aftermath, despite him not having suffered for quite as long.

How bad exactly would have depended on where Kaito was in his character arc when they got there. If he’d still been in phase 1, he’d have probably been able to more or less paper over his psychological trauma and pretend to be Completely Fine like the hero he still totally is (right!?!?). Which definitely wouldn’t have been great for him, and Maki and Shuichi wouldn’t have believed for a second that he was actually okay, but even that would still be quite a bit better than if they’d come while he was in the openly-terrified self-loathing of phase 2.

Kaito was so emotionally fragile at that point that I don’t think he could have scraped together any kind of façade to try and convince Shuichi and Maki he was fine as they reached him and got him out of there. But that’s the problem – even as he wouldn’t have been able to help accepting their hugs and comfort because of how badly he needed it, beneath it Kaito would have been hating himself for needing it. He’d be convinced that this was yet more proof he’s not a hero and they’re obviously secretly disgusted with him and thinking how pathetic he is, aren’t they? He’d have started crying in their arms out of desperate relief and gratitude, but then that’d have made him feel worse, twisting his sobs into ones of pain rather than relief, because he’s still failing them right now and he can’t stop himself. No amount of Shuichi and Maki reassuring him that he’s safe and it’s over and nobody’s going to hurt him any more would be able to calm him down, and they’d be very, very worried by this.

And once Kaito had recovered enough to be able to hide his vulnerability again (which wouldn’t even take that long, because Kaito is far too good at hiding vulnerability), he’d push away the support he still desperately needed – his suffering is irrelevant and shameful, after all – and be convinced he didn’t deserve his friends at all because he was obviously about to get them killed any second, right? All in all he’d just be a massive ball of excruciating self-destructiveness, still psychologically torturing himself long after it should have been over.

Shuichi and Maki wouldn’t quite realise why Kaito was still hurting so much and would just believe that the torture traumatised him even more than they’d been expecting it to. They’d never dream without him saying so (and of course he’d never tell them) that he’d actually believed he was going to break and that that’s hurting him more than the torture itself did. This’d leave them with a familiar problem: even if they know that Kaito is suffering and want to help him, without understanding the root of his issues, it’s very difficult to broach the topic of his suffering with him in a way that won’t make Kaito hate himself for being weak in front of them and clam up more. (See: when Shuichi offered to help Kaito to his room at the end of trial 4, the three non-optimal outcomes of Kaito’s Harmonious Heart event, and also something like this.)

So really it’s for the best that Maki and Shuichi come for Kaito only after he’d figured out on his own that it’s okay for heroes to be vulnerable and need others. That way he can actually let himself break down in their arms and accept their support with basically no self-loathing about how badly he needs it. He still does have a remnant of his instinctive “no, showing weakness to them is Bad, stop it”, but that voice is small and quiet enough that it only even piped up after he started crying, and he can shut it down himself with only the slightest of outside evidence. If they’re hugging him back, that clearly means they understand what he figured out and aren’t disappointed in him being like this at all. He can look at what it meant when Maki cried and needed a hug and apply that to himself as well with barely any hesitation; his horrendous double-standard for heroes has just vanished into nothing and it’s so lovely to get to write a Kaito like this.

While Kaito’s now fully aware that it’s okay for heroes to suffer and that overcoming trials like that only makes them more inspiring, he might however have swerved juuust a little too far in the opposite direction of feeling like he needs to suffer to be a hero, which is also not a healthy mindset. He did, after all, spend several hours in horrible agony while clinging to the thought that this proves he’s a hero, and that’s got to have left a psychological mark. But Shuichi and Maki were there to snap Kaito out of it when he found himself a little too ready to think about going through hell like that again. They’ll be able to help him work through that and stop thinking that way before he goes and internalises that too deeply, now that he’s actually willing to talk about his issues with them.

Physical injuries aside, Kaito’s going to have a lot of PTSD and trauma to work through here in general – but he’ll be determined to face it head on and not let it hold him back forever. With his friends’ support, his newfound willingness to accept vulnerability, and his incredible resilience, he’ll be okay in the end.

A couple of bonus thoughts

Shuichi calling Kaito “bro” for the first time was something I’d had in mind not specifically for this fic but just as a thing he’d do in any universe in which his and Kaito’s relationship finally became the equal, mutually-supportive one that it desperately deserves to be.

Shuichi canonically really does think of Kaito as a regular best friend as well as an inspiring hero to the point that you’d think he wouldn’t have a problem reciprocating the way Kaito addresses him, to give this mutual sense of casual close-friends-ness. But he doesn’t, giving me the impression that, despite their friendship, Shuichi still instinctively feels there’s a sort of distance between him and Kaito that he doesn’t feel comfortable trying to close. That’s almost certainly rooted in the fact that Shuichi looks up to Kaito and subconsciously believes he’s invincible and wouldn’t ever need the kind of support that Shuichi needs so much of from him. So in any situation in which he finally realises that’s wrong and that they’re equals (and that happens instantly in chapter 0 of this fic the moment he hears that Kaito’s going to be tortured), Shuichi would begin to feel that of course he should be calling Kaito “bro” in return, that’s just the natural thing to do for a friend like him, and why on earth did he never feel inclined to do so sooner?

In Japanese, this would of course instead be Shuichi beginning to call him “Kaito”, with no honorifics, instead of the “Momota-kun” that it always was before, to match how Kaito’s always called him “Shuichi” and not “Saihara” since they became friends. I very deliberately avoided the urge to have Shuichi use Kaito’s name prior to calling him “bro” in chapter 7, so that that line being the first moment he does so would hypothetically work the same way in Japanese. (Though maybe I shouldn’t have bothered, given how most of the entire rest of the fic would literally not even work in Japanese at all, what with Kaito’s hero thing to his sidekicks not even using that word in Japanese, grumble grumble.)

Another thing that was more just prompted by a general thought of mine about Kaito than by anything specific to this situation is the fact that whenever Kaito’s narration refers to both his sidekicks by name, it’s just about equally likely to be “Maki Roll and Shuichi” as “Shuichi and Maki Roll”. That’s just because this is the UTDP universe.

If I was writing something set in killing game canon from Kaito’s POV and having him think about both his sidekicks a lot, it’d always be “Shuichi and Maki Roll”, every time. Each of his sidekicks are equally important to him in terms of how much he believes in them and wants to support them – but in killing game canon, Kaito also has his whole mound of jealousy and issues that make him particularly fixated on Shuichi in a way that doesn’t apply nearly as much to Maki. So the Kaito in that universe would always instinctively put Shuichi’s name first, even though he wouldn’t consciously realise he’s kind of showing favouritism there.

But in UTDP, Kaito’s Shuichi-centric issues aren’t a thing (or, at most, they’ve only vaguely begun to surface while on the run in a way that applies equally as much to Maki in this case), and therefore both his sidekicks genuinely are of equal importance to him in every single way. I wanted to show this by repeatedly alternating which one he gives top billing when he’s thinking of them together. It’s just basically random chance each time which one he puts first, because he’d put them both first if he could. Kaito is good like that.

#danganronpa v3 #kaito momota #kaito whump #character analysis #ramble #kaito's hero issues #writing #torture #shuichi saihara #(part 2 won't take this ridiculously long; it's already mostly written)

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Not to he that guy aaa. If you're comfortable with it, I was wondering if you had any headcanons for the Prequelle Ghouls (preferably Dew uhh,,) and/or Copia with a chubbier s/o who's kinda self-concious? No need to worry if you're not comfortable with this kind of ask 😂😂 Luv uuu!

Since they are all in the same wave, I’ll do Copia with the ghouls! I think I might have done Copia in another post as well, but since I can’t find it I’ll just add it here. 

And I’m ALWAYS comfortable with body positivity my dude! 

Cardianl Copia: Copia knows exactly how you feel. A lot of people don’t know this but before he got back into performing and dancing he had a bit of a paunch for a couple of years. That and he was unblessed with thick thighs that took him a long time to learn to appreciate. Point is, he knows how awful it feels to hate a part of your body. Copia will let you know that you are made perfectly the way Lucifer wants- that nothing about you is unattractive and that being chubby is incredibly sexy. If you are THAT down about yourself he’ll even tell you everything he did for himself and how he battled self esteem issues. You are beautiful no matter how you feel, but he’s going to support you no matter what you do. 

Ember: Did someone say something to you and make you feel bad? Cause Ember is always ready to fight when he sees you being hard on yourself. He’s super confused when you tell him how it wasn’t anyone making you feel bad about yourself, it’s just how you feel. That’s always his dilemma, it’s not like he can just fight YOU for how you FEEL? Ember doesn’t know the best way to change your mind, so he snaps at you, “if society makes you feel bad for not looking like someone else then FUCK society!” Ember will do everything he can to make you think other wise. Whether that’s hitting on you more, calling you sexy, or shouting outloud how he feels about you he’s going to do it. The HELL he’s just going to sit there and let you talk shit about yourself.

Aether: Whenever you express it he’ll jokingly look down at himself. “I mean, I’m pretty thick and you love me!” If you respond with saying anything about he he’s perfectly fine and he looks amazing- he’ll hit you with a, “well, so do you!!” Aether thinks you are perfect the way you are. It makes him sad that you don’t think you are attractive because you aren’t super thin. That never made sense to him that bodies could be ‘ugly’. Aren’t all bodies just vessels for life and pleasure? To him, you are perfect and beautiful/handsome and he would have you no other way! He might even joke that you aren’t allowed to complain about yourself unless you complain about him too! 

Cirrus: She is so unsure of how to comfort you during times you feel super self conscious. For two reasons- one is that chubby being unattractive is next to unheard of in a lot of ghoul tribes. Two, she’s never been SUPER emotional or lovey dovey so she’s not sure how to approach this gently. Cirrus is super blunt when she sits next to you and rubs your back. She tells you that you are absolutely fine and that your appearance is fine. That if anyone makes you feel bad then who cares? They are a bunch of idiots who wouldn’t know an attractive person if they saw one! If that doesn’t work, she offers what she feels are “helpful” encouragements. You can always work out and diet change- would you like her to help? You could do it together and make it easier. She admits it’s not how she feels about you, YOU have to be the one to be comfortable with yourself. But she will be with you while you do it. 

Cumulus: She knows how you feel about yourself, but let’s you express it the way you need to. Cumulus is sorely tempted to point out how curvy and beautiful she is and how many people love that about her. But this isn’t a comparison about her, it’s about you. Cumulus does subtle things to help you learn to love yourself. This can be anything from her always reminding you how attractive you are, to just doing little things to make you feel good about yourself. Like helping you try clothes that make you feel good, or just having small accomplishments that have nothing to do with your appearance. Cumulus doesn’t want you to let some silly notion of what’s ‘beautiful’ to take away from all the other amazing qualities you have ON TOP OF being one of the most beautiful humans she has met. 

Mountain: Point blank does not understand. Will straight ask you WHY? I mean he will sit you down and let you just vent about all the imperfections you feel like you have when it comes to your body. Mountain will nod along until you are done, even if you have to cry during it. He’s not shy to tell you that it’s cool that you feel that way about yourself... but you are wrong. You’re chubby, not unattractive. No one is unattractive just by being a body type, who told you that? Mountain is a bit shocked when he learns modern human society values super skinny and fit people. “But... not everyone looks the same? How can you expect everyone to look the same? That’s like expecting everyone to be the same height!” The ghoul cannot wrap his head around the idea. Mountain will shake his head. Actually, anytime you bring up how self conscious you feel Mountain will always make it a point to say, “those standards are stupid don’t listen to them.” 

Rain: At first Rain thinks your self consciousness is actually one of those internet jokes. He literally thinks you are playing off of one of those ‘dummy thicc’ memes. Rain laughs and probably agrees with you until he notices how heart broken you look- que panicking of him trying to figure out what he said to upset you. When you both sit down and have a good talk about it, Rain gives you a hug. He hugs you every time you are feeling down. Rain doesn’t feel like it’s job to FORCE you to love yourself, because he knows how much it hurts you and you can’t just let go of being self conscious. But, he’s always the first one to remind you how much he loves you and thinks you are the most amazing and attractive person he’s ever met. He’s very much a, “Fine! Then I’ll love how you look enough for the BOTH of us!” 

Swiss: One of the biggest things that confuse Swiss about you is how you can be so self conscious. To him you are ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! How can you look at yourself and not feel like the most attractive human to walk the planet? Swiss tends to forget that humans have a LOT different beauty standards than ghouls... most of which he finds stupid. In fact, he adores having partners with a little heft in the first place! The way he expresses it... may or may not be helpful depending on how you feel. He’s the type to insist you being chubbier makes you more cuddly and soft and more to love. Swiss means it from a good place, I promise. 

#the band ghost #ghost bc #Ghost headcanon #reader insert #swiss #rain #mountain #aether #cardinal copia #cumulus #cirrus #ember #era 4 #Era IV #Nameless Ghouls

[mikenewtonhateblog]

My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin. 

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

#no i am not looking for critiques on them #i get my critiques elsewhere lmao #my ocs