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pinchofhoney · 11 months

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broken promises, part three

« part one | part two | part three (the last one)

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion

summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.

a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.

Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.

Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.

You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.

The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.

At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.

As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.

With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.

You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.

It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.

Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.

And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.

As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.

You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.

But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.

Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.

You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.

You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.

On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.

You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.

Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.

As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.

His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.

“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”

Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.

“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.

You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”

Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.

“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.

“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.

Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.

“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”

His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.

You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.

In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.

“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.

“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”

You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.

“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”

“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.

“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.

You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.

Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.

“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”

Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.

He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.

“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.

With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.

Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.

He seemed colder than his very name.

64 YEARS LATER

The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.

Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”

Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”

You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.

“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”

The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.

“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”

Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.

“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”

Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.

As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.

Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.

It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.

Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.

Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.

But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.

You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.

As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”

Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”

Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.

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angelpink610 · 3 months

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You guys wanna know when the things I wished for, hoped for, visualized and manifested actually started to appear to me, to become my reality? When I understood and learned how to ENJOY THE PROCESS!

Let’s yap a bit… ;)

Us as immediate people in an immediate society end up focusing entirely on the results, we only see the things we wish for as results, as finish lines. What we fail to do is see the start line and the path that leads to the end.

I don’t want to sound corny, but it’s really all about that Hannah Montana movie song “The Climb”. We only think about how fast we will get there, how life will be when we get there, how happy it will be when we get there. Well, here’s the thing: if you’re not happy and grateful throughout the way, don’t even expect to be happy on the finish line. Our goals are not essentially what make us happy, they’re proofs of our capacity and work. What actually makes someone’s life happy and amazing, is the way that person behaves and conditions their mind WHILE chasing all of these dreams. It’s all about your methods, it’s all about your feelings, your reactions to the world, the way you act towards people. Don’t think you’ll be happy and achieve the greatest things when you live your life and answer to the world bitterly, in a rush, not paying much mind to it.

I know this is obvious, but just so that no one is confused and comes for me after: I’m not saying every day is going to be incredible, I’m not saying that you’re not allowed to be sad, angry, uncomfortable, jealous, disgusted. These are all perfectly normal and human emotions, and everyone should feel them—it just shows you’re alive. This concept of being 24/7 happy and grateful and “Oh my God, everything’s incredible all the time” it’s just not sustainable nor healthy (+, obviously, not real). What we should do, instead, is allow these emotions to be felt, and then act upon them understanding why they’re there and how we can soothe them, or make them a little less strong. For example, understand where your anger comes from, is it truly someone’s fault, why are we feeling it. Not block it, not try to stop it from being felt—but understand it. And then, after thinking (even meditating, if you like) about it, let it go, and let it be felt still, if you think it’s the right thing. Don’t ask too much of yourself always, sometimes we really just need to scream for a second on our pillow or shed a tear in our room. It’s perfectly alright and also healthy!

Have fun, make friends, create good memories with these friends, study, live your life to the fullest. Meet new people, go to new places, discover new music, books, art, movies that make you feel something. Laugh with people you love, create memories through pictures, do some risky things, you don’t need to always be so careful about everything. Some lesions make us stronger. And while you’re doing everything else, manifest your dreams, work towards it, put in the effort, visualize, believe you’re worth and destined for that, acknowledge you already have everything you need to get there and that, actually, you already have it.

Learn to actually live your life on the way to your dreams, not just survive the path. When you look at life with gratitude and love, life looks back—and you’ll feel it.

As always, you’re free to agree or disagree with me on the various topics I talk about. It’s my own experience and the way it’s been for me. Feel free to also share your stories on comments and/or reblogs! I’ll love to see it.

That’s it for today’s yapping session. Love, Seiko ♡

♡ borders credit: @anitalenia

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uninformedartist · 3 months

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3 AM thoughts but this video right here perfectly spells out why I hate poison (& behind the scene stuff)

So 1st just a tw, going to talk about ep 4 & poison here.

Ok so just focusing on the song itself, not the behind the scene stuff of Raphielle, Vivienne all that (I talk briefly about that). The song is in its essence decent.

youtube

Calxiyn analysed this song properly, it rhyme, instrumentation, the meaning of the lyrics all that deals with the musicality & technicality of the song & it all came out its a solid song actually.

What they saw about this song is that its not a I want song like happy day in hell Angel singing about his aspirations, dreams, wants ect or an I am song, a song showing who he truly is but more of a "pity" song (mean this in how the writers want it to come across), a song that rehashed what we already saw about Angel, his abuse, the facade he puts on, his "work". Its a song that is not needed at all to be made as it adds nothing to Angel as a character.

I always, when I watched ep 4 felt so disgusted by this song. Yes for behind the scenes things that went on but just how I know & saw Angel's pain, his facade BEFORE this song, having this song + the visuals added nothing to his character, his story & just felt like putting Angel through this pain, through that spectical of a song & visuals for nothing.

Aside: Well not nothing since behind the scenes one of her staff gets off to seeing Angel go through his abuse, Vivienne defending him but I digress.

The song was not needed like wow after watching this video & hearing the analysis what a waste of a song. Waste of adding depth to Angel in this song. Exploring just anything of him. His dreams, his aspirations or even how he truly is not his facade. Because of this song it feels, no IS that Angel in episode 6 just accepts his life being contractually bound to Valentino. There is no real resolution to Angel's arc. The cycle will probably just continue into season 2 even.

Angel is written purposely to be in this perpetual cycle of abuse & pain & his song solidifies it. There's no hope of him getting free, no hope of seeing his true dreams, his true self in song its just a depressing hope said by Angel in him wishing "I had something to live for tomorrow" but it won't come as ep 6 he just accepts his life, his "work" like is some typical 9 to 5 when IT IS NOT.

I can be wrong on all this, its 03:23 the morning idk.

#tw abuse mention #vivziepop critical #my post #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel critical #tw for episode 4 of hazbin spoken on #Youtube #I hate how they treat him I really do

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kaypeace21 · 2 months

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[The future of this BLOG]: SHOWS I'm planning on analyzing here & on YouTube

Interview with the vampire

Invincible

House of the dragon

The boys

Umbrella acadamy

Bridgerton probably (still haven't had time to watch part 2 yet)

stranger things: I have mixed feelings about reviewing it given what certain staff has said and done. I oscilate between wanting to review the final season or wanting to boycott it (especially as someone who has been part of the BDS movement for 1/2 her life). But, on one hand, It's not the fault of the underpaid (and talented) writers and staff who don't have these views. And I do believe some of the writing staff may have good intentions and want to give us a positive and powerful message to the audience about healing from childhood tr*uma. However, other members of the writing staff may just want to go down the stereotypical and popular-easy route. We'll just have to wait and see what happens in the last season. If I hear the ending isn't simply another re-hashing of prior seasons and it's more like s1-2 (without the cliches of s3-4). I'd be more inclined to review it by *cough* and watching it elsewhere. Once I was logged back on to tumblr: I did have a whole draft saved about my politics since I was a kid and why I still feel so strongly about such conflicts, today . But, I shouldn't make the topic about me- and I'm not sure anyone wants to hear my life story XD. So, the big point (to my followers) is regardless of whether I chose to watch it or boycot it-

I'm not deleting the old ST content: so do what you want with it (like, reblog, add details to reblogs I didn't notice). Have fun :D !

Analyzing ST certainly helped me improve in terms of media literacy (and it'll be beneficial for the future content I make). So even if it sometimes got messy here, I do appreciate all the positives the ST blog and followers brought to me.The kind words meant a lot. For those who want to unfollow me for my political beliefs , that's totally fine. That's your prerogative. For those who want to unfollow cause again ST was pretty much my whole blog: again I TOTALLY understand and I wish you the best :). I'm not going to judge, take away, or guilt anyone, for their choice of media they like. Enjoy it (I truly mean that).

For those who continue to follow my blog . I appreciate you SO MUCH! I've been gone from this blog for such a long time cause of school (and I appreciate those who stayed and were excited to see me again). The positive words meant a lot over the years. Everyone have a lovely day. Take care of yourselves.

Sincerely, Kay

ps: I'm open to other media suggestions too so you can drop them in my message box (recent films/ shows, mini/limited series, animation, heck i'm open to comedies and foreign media too).But, analyzing them will most likely be after the shows listed above .Right now I'm focusing on my national exam and my mental health. My first video will probably be in late August or early September. My test is August 20th. Hope everyone is doing well .I'm feeling much better mentally. Hope everyone is feeling the same way :)

for my 1st video I’ll just post it to youtube . But for other videos I may make a early access patreon (like a week before the next video comes out free on youtube). Have to google how all that works (or if there's better alternatives) . Totally fine if you can't afford it (you'll get to see it for free on youtube regardless :D) . I'll be honest . I'm primarily thinking of doing it cause I need to pay off those student loans and I'm trying to hopefully move out of state in a few years. Plus, I love analyzing media anyways (so making it a part time job would be a dream come true .

#byer #stranger things

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characteranalyst · 2 years

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Phayu Character Analysis : The Man With a Borrowed Halo and One Foot in Hell

“My brother is far from simple, you’ll get burned if you don’t know how to play with fire” - Saifah

Gather round LITA obsessed children for an in depth analysis of our resident Daddy Dom Brat Tamer Phayu who Christian Grey wished he was and tried to be. You either hate him, love him, want to be him or all of the above.

I know PhayuRain’s arc seems like on the surface just a fluffy little romance with no need for lengthy think pieces. But I’m obsessed with their dynamic and I could not let the hyper-fixation pass before doing a character analysis. Phayu haunts the periphery of dreams and I am hoping that this analysis will help me exorcise this beautiful spectre so I can finally know peace.

As much as I would genuinely love to crack open his skull and unspool all of his thoughts and motivations I cannot do that. So disclaimer obviously this will just be conjecture and my opinion and I am going to try and stick as closely as possible to canon and refrain from falling into head canon territory.

I have read Love Storm but I’m only going to be referencing how Phayu behaves in the series because I prefer that version of him. Also this is going to be a very LONGGGG post. I have many thoughts on this man. Feel free to skim through or save it to read for some other time.

I am mainly going to be speaking about the main character traits that I have observed from him and how he relates to the rest of the characters in the series. I think I am going to make a separate analysis of his dynamic with Rain because going in depth with that would be too much for me to mention here.

Alright let’s get into it.

(1) EARLY CHILDHOOD AND YOUNG ADULTHOOD

We are given little to no information on his childhood and or young adulthood. What we do know is that his parents left him and Saifah an incredible house and the luxury garage so we can assume that they weren’t strapped for cash.

Him and Saifah seem like two relatively well adjusted young men so I guess we can assume that there was little to no childhood trauma. In episode 6 during their pillow talk Phayu tells Rain that his parents are off living in Korat and enjoying their lives, I’m assuming. So I guess they’re not divorced. So he has no ‘separated parents’ trauma to deal with.

The only thing that gives us a little insight into how his childhood affected who he became as a person was when he told Rain the story of how his mother always used to argue with his father about how he could fix bikes beautifully but he could not build a house for them.

So Phayu decided that he was going to ensure that he was able to fulfil both by becoming a mechanic and an architect. I think from this we can conclude that Phayu is an overachiever and this displays his seemingly constant need to be perfect and the best.

I think this may also come from a child’s instinctual need to please their caretakers and make them proud. Phayu also seems like someone who has had a Type A personality from birth. In contrast to Saifah who seems like a little more laid back more go with the flow type.

From this little snippet of information we can also assume that his affinity for being a mechanic was either inherited from his father or taught to him and Saifah.

In conclusion it’s safe to say that Phayu does not really seem to have any trauma to speak of, he's just kinky. I like the fact he doesn’t have any heavy trauma or unsavoury character traits (well I take this back he’s a little pushy and manipulative) he needs to get over. There is beauty in this simplicity where as a result, the majority of the narrative is focused on Phayu Rain falling in love with each other.

(2) PHAYU AND HIS AIR OF MYSTERY (DR JEYKLL AND MR HYDE)

One thing that stood out to me when we as an audience were introduced to Phayu was his air of mystery. Everyone knows of him of course because he has been knighted as the God of the faculty of architecture. But we see quickly that very few people actually know him personally. We can see how this fact plays out in the series through the following examples:

Pun says that she has no idea what kind of business Phayu runs but it's ok because she likes a man with a little mystery. (Episode 1)

Phayu refuses to tell Rain what he likes to eat on their first date because he says that Rain has to know him a lot longer before he can ‘snoop for information’ as he puts it. (Episode 3)

Phayu shares only a little information about his life with his senior Mhok before abruptly cutting the conversation short so as to not reveal too much information about his personal life. (Episode 4)

Phayu only reveals deep information about himself and his parents and childhood to Rain after their second time during pillow talk. (Episode 6)

He also doesn’t really seem to have close friends except for Prapai and Saifah. I don’t really think Saifah counts because he’s more of an unwilling captive because they have to share everything that their parents left them. I really don’t think they would even be friends if they weren’t brothers honestly because of their differing personalities.

I think this ability to guard what he reveals to people helps maintain his mystique. There needs to be a certain level of distance and holding people at arm’s length that needs to take place in order for people to project their fantasies onto him and build him up as some sort of God among men.

I think the reason people idolise Phayu and like him so much is because they like the idea of him rather than the reality of him. I think if more people knew who he actually was in reality, they would be put off by how intense he is.

Rain seems like the only person who had become disillusioned with the idea of Phayu. After the debacle in Episode 1 he sees Phayu not as his ‘cool handsome big bike bro” but as a pushy piece of shit bastard that tried to assault him. I also think some of his anger towards Phayu had to do with him being confused by his feelings for him; creating a cocktail of confusion for poor Rain to sort out. So he was able to view Phayu as a person and not place him on a pedestal like other people do.

I think this is what PhayuRain’s relationship needed to flourish as well because Phayu needs someone who is able to challenge him. We are well aware of how much he loves brats. The worshipful gaze of Som and Pun would not be satisfactory for him because they had him on a pedestal and were blinded by their idea of him so they would readily submit to him without much push back.

He needed someone with a backbone who could engage in a sort of push and pull relationship with him and our adorable little firecracker Rain was the perfect match. Phayu has people falling at his feet daily; he was in need of much more excitement than that.

Like the story of the titular character Dr.Jekyll a well-respected scientist who used his alter ego Mr.Hyde to delve into the darker side of science without repentance or taking responsibility; Phayu has that same sort of duality. I think Phayu keeps his kinky side under wraps and he’s very careful about whom he shows that part of himself to. Presumably only his lovers or potential lovers get to see his ‘bad side’.

So his DR JEKYLL would be, so to speak,the Phayu that is seen as a smart, capable, polite, helpful and well-adjusted young man, loved by all and sought after by many. This is the Phayu that would leave a random stranger his set square with an encouraging message about his future in architecture.

On the flip side his MR HYDE would be Dom Daddy Brat Tamer Phayu with a penchant for sadism and degradation.

At the end of the day both sides come together to make up who Phayu is as a person and there is nothing inherently wrong with his Mr. Hyde as long as he is able to channel it and engage with it safely with willing participants. Fortunately for him, he has Rain for that.

(3) WONKY MORAL COMPASS BUT STRINGENT PERSONAL RULES

I really had a hard time dissecting this part. But I have come to the conclusion that Phayu deserves to be labelled as a morally grey or morally ambiguous person. I really have a soft spot for morally grey characters in media or literature.

It makes the narrative far more interesting to follow. In real life however I would run in the opposite direction and call the police. But this isn’t supposed to be real, it's supposed to be a fantasy so I’m not going to go too much in depth about Phayu’s moral failings. This show doesn’t take itself too seriously so I’m not going to either.

Phayu is not a ‘nice’ person plain and simple and he knows it, contrary to Pun’s expository gushing in the first episode of the show when she refers to him as “super-duper nice”. After the spanking incident in Episode 2 (which was wild now that I think of it) where Rain declares that he is going to make him fall in love with him he says to himself;

“You’re going to make me fall in love with you but do you know what kind of man I am.”

I think Phayu says this because he knows himself thoroughly the good, the bad and the ugly. Phayu has overcome himself. He has recognized all his shortcomings, all his base desires, all his lowliness, all the self-imposed restraints he places upon himself and overcome them.

Phayu also strikes me as someone who has engaged with his shadow self and explored the parts of his psyche that most of us would repress and compartmentalise because we are too ashamed of our darkness to engage with it.

He has looked his darkness in the face and come to terms with it. That is why he says, "Do you know what kind of man I am?", because he understands people’s perception of him lies in stark contrast to his unsavoury character traits.

I also think his dabbling in BDSM has given him the room and space to conduct such exploration of himself in a safe, sane and consensual way. I think the nature of BDSM can afford people an outlet to engage with their own darkness and sort through it so that it doesn’t manifest in their life in other ways.

In Episode 1 we see where Prapai likens him to the devil (jokingly) but under every joke there is definitely some truth. If Prapai is calling him that it must be the truth because as we know Prapai looks like his only close friend.

We can assume that Prapai is incredibly familiar with Phayu’s Mr. Hyde as we can presume that they know each other very well so his assessment of dubbing Phayu as a devil must be accurate.

Also head canon (I know I said I was going to refrain from going into head canon territory but please indulge me a bit) I’m sure they’ve fucked before in a bro-ish kind of way. I mean their both hot and bi and Prapai’s a sub in top’s clothing (I know Dom/sub and top/bottom are two separate things just enjoy the joke you know what I mean) so it’s not far fetched to think they would have at some time fucked around a bit.

Although I know Phayu is hardly the correct type of Dom for Prapai’s specific brand of subbiness. The point is I think that Prapai would be privy to Phayu’s true nature and how much of a little shit he can be when he isn’t using his powers for good.

In Episode 5 Saifah, the only other person we see having a close relationship with Phayu refers to him as a Devil as well.

I just know these two have witnessed some shit over the years of knowing Phayu that warranted him being referred to as a Devil.

Discussing Phayu’s moral code is very weird because it’s obvious that he doesn’t really adhere to a normal set of rules. We can assume he’s not particularly religious because it wasn’t mentioned.

I think Phayu is very domineering and kind of manipulative but at the same time he commands an air of respect. He is not necessarily what you would expect from someone who is so widely lauded as an exemplary person.

What also struck me about Phayu was the fact although his moral code seems a little flexible he has a few hard and fast non-negotiable rules that may seem arbitrary to someone like Rain but to him it may as well be gospel.

One of these rules in the show is seen where we see he has a big thing for respect. We see an example of this when he calls Rain after he picks up his car from the garage and he tells Rain that only ill-mannered boys don’t greet the owner of the house when they stop by. He also ends the call by telling Rain to be respectful. We also see his thing for rules when he tells Rain that he doesn’t like ill-mannered boys and that he should address him as P’Phayu emphasising the use of honorifics.

Phayu is also a man of his word in Episode 7 when Rain tells Phayu that he will unleash his wrath on him if he ever cheats on him. Phayu just laughs and says he will never let Rain down. He holds true to this in the Special Episode when Rain accuses him of cheating on him with Natsu he utters the same sentiment that he promised to never let Rain down. This man looked absolutely horrified at the accusation like he wouldn’t even dream of it.

I think his strict adherence to rules other than him being a Dom could also be influenced by his exposure and affiliation with the likes of P’Pakin and P’Chai. He knows that there will be dire consequences if the rules aren’t strictly adhered to. This is why he curses Stop for mentioning the race in public and he reprimands Rain for thoughtlessly wandering into the illegal street race without permission to be there.

BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE

He’s so stringent about ensuring that Rain is polite and respectful but he thinks it’s perfectly fine to tamper with Rain’s car so that he would have an excuse to be his knight in shining armour and save him so they could hook up. The math is not mathing at all. I know he’s an experienced mechanic and he wouldn’t have tampered with anything that would have led Rain getting in an accident and getting injured but still. WEIRD BEHAVIOUR KHUN PHAYU!!!!!! Also don’t even get me started on him using the debt of fixing Rain’s car as some weird way to stalk him??? RED FLAGGGGGG!! His methods of courtship definitely need some fine tuning.

In conclusion his contradictory moral code gives me whiplash trying to figure out where on the scale from angel to devil I should place him. But I think he’s just human. No one is all good and all bad and I think that Mame writes very human raw characters that make you feel something. I’ll give credit where credit is due.

(4) AN EERIE LEVEL OF SELF CONTROL AND THE PATIENCE OF A SAINT

This man probably never has New Year’s Resolutions because he’s already operating at optimal condition. Phayu is portrayed to be quite literally always in control. The only time he looks undone is after THAT SCENE in Episode 6.

We see this self-control manifest in the way he makes love to Rain in a very formulaic, worshipful and almost performative manner. Gently throwing Rain’s head back, holding his hands down and caging his body. Rain responds in kind to his dominance by always baring his throat in submission and allowing his body to go lax under Phayu’s ministrations.

It’s so gentle but he’s still being dominant and in control. While Rain always looks halfway between heaven and earth during these scenes Phayu always seems wholly present and tethered to earth (like a good Dom should be) creating a space in which his precious sub can feel safe enough to fly out of this stratosphere.

The subtlety with which he maintains control makes me absolutely feral. There is hardly any jostling or manhandling but it’s still forceful. I think a great example of the subtlety of how Phayu displays his dominance can be seen in the PhayuRain make-out scene in Episode 5.

The natural way he cages Rain’s neck to control the flow of the kiss.

The way he stop kissing Rain when Rain tries to lead and he put a finger to his lips in a way that almost screams “Relax I’m in charge here.”

Unlike our donut firecracker Rain (my sweet boy) that was ready to scrap at the first sign of disrespect, Phayu seems like he is not one to resort to violence if they could sort it out by just talking and coming to an amicable solution.

We can see an example of this where Phayu refused to be baited by Stop into fighting with him even though Stop was about to punch him at the night racing circuit in the beginning of Episode 6.

Also before the race between him and Stop where Stop was trying to rile him up. He was able to remain level headed while Stop immediately lost his cool and tried to fight him once again when Phayu insulted him.

I’m assuming this self-control is more nature than nurture. It seems like he is the type to have always been calm and self-contained. He doesn’t need to bark loudly because his competence and self-assuredness speaks volumes.

He quite literally doesn’t yell often he just uses that husky dom voice. The only time he ever really raised his voice was when he was shouting at Rain in Episode 2 when he was worried that he could have gotten killed for sneaking into the illegal street circuit race.

The thing about dominance and control that I think people like Stop with fragile egos get wrong is that they think it comes from a place of aggression, peacocking and forcing people to bow to your will. This is however not the sort of dominance that will truly gain you respect and have people willingly obey you.

Phayu’s dominance and control comes from a place of nurturing and caring and people only defer to him and his authority because he has proven time and time again that he is capable of shouldering the responsibility of what this control entails and he has consequently gained their respect because of it.

(5) PRIDE GOES BEFORE A FALL

No matter how level headed he is and self-control he possesses he’s still a man and he has been socialised to exist as a man. So he’s not above engaging in a motorcycle race with an asshole like Stop to prove a point and because of his pride.

I like how this moment humanised Phayu and showed how no matter how above petty human emotions he seems, he’s still liable to fall victim to making decisions based on ego.

However, I like that he was self-aware enough to realise that he was indeed only participating in this race because of his pride because he says to Rain when he tries to stop him some things just don’t have an explanation.

We can contrast him racing Stop because of his pride and him kneeling before Stop and crawling to save Rain from being hurt. Although he has an ego he was more than willing to put pride aside to ensure Rain’s safety.

(SIDENOTE- I died watching the kidnapping ordeal in episode 7 that shit was so unserious. The picture of Rain that Stop sent Phayu lives in my head rent free and I cackle from time to time because of it.)

(6) “P’PHAYU LHOR MAKKKKK!” – Pun (PRETTY PRIVILEGE AND THE HALO EFFECT)

Physical appearance is often a major part of the halo effect. People who are considered attractive tend to be rated higher as possessing positive traits in contrast to people who aren’t considered conventionally attractive.

I think beauty can be blinding and make people more willing to overlook people’s misgivings. As the halo effect states people are more likely to project good qualities on to people they deem to be conventionally attractive.

As I said when I was addressing his air of mystery; because people are so predisposed to projecting all these good qualities on Phayu the distance and the space that he creates between him and other people can be filled with these projections and good qualities so that they build him up in their minds as this amazing person.

This man radiates and secretes ungodly amounts of sex appeal without trying. So I think his general attractiveness is one of the reasons as well why Rain had a hard time getting people to believe that Phayu was a pushy manipulative little asshole in the beginning.

Do I think Phayu would have commanded the same level of respect that he does without also being pretty? I don’t know to be honest. I do however think Phayu is an unintentional cautionary tale about the dangers of projecting good qualities on someone just because they’re attractive and being blind to their faults.

(7) SELF ASSURED, CONFIDENT AND CHARMING – CONCEITED?

I mean I’d be that confident too if I was rich, handsome, talented, smart ANDDDDD could fuck like a porn star but I digress. Very much a quiet confidence to him as was elaborated on when I spoke about the air of mystery. He is evidently very capable and consequently people rely on him and I think his self- assuredness comes from the fact that he can back up his claims because he has every right to be self-centred.

Without mincing words this man is very conceited. However although he is conceited he doesn’t lack empathy and he doesn’t seem too self-involved as evidenced by the way he ensures that he takes care of the people he cares about.

(8) PHAYU THE COMPULSIVE CARETAKER, CONCEITED BUT NOT SELF-INVOLVED

We see in Episode 4 how Phayu puts Rain’s needs before his by ensuring that Rain focuses on his school work and ensures that his development and advancement as a person comes before pursuing a romantic relationship with Phayu.

He ensures that Rain understands how slacking on his work in pursuance of other things will affect his work life and he lectures him while still comforting him after. I really liked this scene in Episode 3 because Phayu is able to help Rain because he’s older and more experienced and he’s gone through it before. I also like the fact that there isn’t a hint of condescension in his voice, just concern and wanting to ensure that Rain becomes the best version of himself.

Phayu shows how much he cares about Rain and is invested in making Rain a priority in his life in so many little ways. We can see in Episode 5 how Phayu leaves an important meeting to answer Rain’s text messages. Also in Episode 4 When Rain finishes his project early after an all-nighter and instead of sleeping he goes straight to Phayu. Phayu ensures that there is reciprocity in their relationship by saying that you missed out on sleep to come see me, so I'm going to hurry up and finish my work so we can hang out.

He makes an effort to help Rain finish his models like he promised to do in his speech in Episode 5. Also in Episode 4 he apologises to Rain for his phone dying and for making him wait for him in the rain. In Episode 6 after he almost gets in a fight with Stop the first thing he does is ask Rain if he’s alright even though he was the one that almost had a brawl with Stop.

I think we really see throughout the show how the way Phayu interacts with Rain takes on a sort of paternalistic tinge. The title of Daddy is incredibly fitting and I really just think this is him being a good Dom.

That’s why I think this is the reason Phayu looks so touched and taken aback when Rain and him first meet and he holds the umbrella for Phayu while he’s changing his tire. Phayu’s so used to being relied on and being assumed to be competent and well put together. He’s used to giving without expecting anything in return. So when Rain does this small act of kindness in an effort to repay this Good Samaritan, Phayu becomes fascinated with him.

(9) ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS B.R. (Before Rain)

Was he possibly a whore? Not as much of a whore as Prapai but he has definitely spun the block. Whereas our beloved service top Prapai has built a gated community in which he resides on said block. Phayu had a condom stashed under that toy car so we know he was getting some action.

He was probably not a whore whore because as he said to Rain in the bathroom scene:

We all know why he’s particular. I don’t think he would have been able to find a lot of people willing to put up with his domineering attitude and controlling nature long term if they didn’t have that sort of kink no matter how insanely hot he is.

But there were definitely others before Rain if we can take cues from the offhanded comments of the other characters in the series. Saifah tells Rain in Episode 3 when he’s waiting for Phayu that there were others before him. Was it a lot of others though? The world may never know.

Saifah comments on the fact that Phayu has been single for a long time and Saifah tells him if he wants to be happy like him he should get in a serious relationship. So we can assume that long term romantic relationships for Phayu have more than likely been few and far between. He probably was not celibate though as we see how he was going to have a one night stand with Rain.

We see Saifah saying that he feels bad for whoever is making Phayu smile like that and how he warns him not to be too mean to Rain because he will run away. We can assume that others have been perturbed by how intense Phayu was in the past and they have run off.

I’m sure Saifah knows Phayu very well and even if he isn’t aware of the details of his kinkiness he knows Phayu has a thing about control and a mean streak. At least that’s what Saifah computes it as in his vanilla mind. I’m sure this poor man has heard and seen way too much. JUSTICE FOR SAIFAHH!!!!!!

Lastly before they get together Phayu constantly tests Rain to see if he can handle what a long term relationship with him would look like. I’m sure this comes from things not working out in the past and Phayu wanting to ensure that Rain can handle him.

We can see that Phayu may have abandonment issues from things not working out in the past with his romantic pursuits when in Episode 5 he’s scared and panicked and sad when Rain runs away after they have sex for the first time. I have three theories about this:

(1) He didn’t want to lose Rain because he’s a unicorn and he may never have hope of finding someone so perfect for him again.

(2) He was abandoned before because he was too much and overbearing and it triggered him.

(3) He’s big on communication and he feels slighted that Rain ran away before they could discuss how their relationship would develop after they had sex for the first time.

It could have quite possibly been a combination of all of the above. Phayu seems like the type to be fully invested in a long term relationship and he seems like someone who loves deeply so I think him testing Rain was him just trying to ensure that Rain was worth the investment before he got too attached.

(10) PHAYU THE SCULPTOR ; HIS OBSESSION WITH POTENTIAL AND MOULDING THINGS TO HIS LIKING

“Rain before you design a house you need to design your life first”- Phayu

I get the impression that Phayu’s view on life is that everything can be curated and tailored to his liking if he tries hard enough. He’s definitely not a go with the flow kind of person. Every single move he makes is intentional. Looking at his two professions being an architect and his side of job of being a mechanic; these are two things that require moulding, precision.

Architects are able to create and design and bring their vision to life and make it tangible. It’s a very creative profession with the added bonus of having something you designed realised in real life.

Also mechanics are constantly tinkering with engines and in control of powerful machinery. Whether they work on maintenance, diagnostics, or repairs, they have to perform those tasks with exacting detail. That is because this careful work on important vehicle components could save someone’s life.

This speaks to Phayu’s pedantic nature with the added element of not wanting to deal with the consequences of disappointing Pakin. These machines are kind of like a puzzle to be solved.

But the catch is those things aren’t really his and they don’t truly belong to him.

In Episode 3 we can infer that sometimes clients may criticize his designs and he has to mould it to their liking instead of relying on his own vision.

In Episode 1 Prapai tells him your babies are so beautiful (referring to the motorcycles) but Phayu corrects him and says that they don’t belong to him.

But I think that although he doesn’t own these things and that he may be required to tailor the design of a house to someone else’s liking still these tasks scratch his itch for moulding and creating.

Then *enter stage left* a wild Rain appears, a blank canvas unmarred by past sexual or romantic experience. He has no expectations and no idea how anything works so he’s able to become a sort of pliable clay that Phayu can use his deft fingers to mold to his liking consequently making Rain his.

We can are shown how their relationship is mutually beneficial and how it works for them. Different folks have different strokes.

The glint in his eyes and the way Phayu all but shivers in excitement every time Rain tells him he can’t do something.

Episode 4 – "I’ll teach you"

Episode 6- "I'll train you to be the best rider"

In the infamous Daddy scene in the special episode he says "When I teach I teach to the core"

It’s not explicitly stated but I’m sure this man got off constantly at the fact that he was Rain’s first everything when it came to sex and romance and he is constantly in charge of moulding him.

We can definitely see how much of a diligent student and quick learner Rain is and how Phayu is consequently able to enjoy the fruits of his labour. (SIDE NOTE: I’m sure Phayu wasn’t prepared for the monster he created in Rain.)

I love the reciprocity in their relationship as Phayu shows Rain just how desired he is and worships him constantly.

(11) WHY HE WAS DEFINITELY A KID WHO HATED SHARING HIS TOYS

Phayu strikes me as a man who knows exactly what he wants and how to obtain it and when he finds it he will hold on to it and never let it go. We are given countless examples of Phayu’s blatant possessiveness over Rain once they begin their unorthodox courtship.

When after their first time Phayu says to Rain that he must repeat the phrase “Rain belongs to P’Phayu.”back to him.

This man heard that Pun was in Rain’s general vicinity and immediately drove to him to stake his claim. Also when he admits to being “insanely jealous” of Pun ever since he heard that Rain used to have a romantic interest in her.

He removes Saifah’s hand from Rain’s shoulder in Episode 4 and tells him to get back to work after Saifah suggests that he could teach Rain how to ride a super bike.

I do think this possessiveness is also in part because Phayu realises how much of a rare find Rain is and he will do everything in his power to ensure that they stay together forever. I also think in contrast, Rain’s possessiveness has more to do with him constantly having to fight off potential suitors because everyone is in love with Phayu (well the idea of him).

I appreciate however that his possessiveness isn’t portrayed as particularly toxic because in episode 5 when Phayu is having lunch with Sky and Rain and Rain tells Sky he loves him after he told him that Phayu and him were dating.

Instead of getting unreasonable jealous of Rain and Sky’s obviously platonic relationship, Phayu simply says that he has no reason to be jealous because he knows that Sky and Rain are just friends.

I think if they ever decided on venturing out and engaging in a threesome it would 100% be Rain’s idea in order to satiate his own curiosity. Phayu would go along with it (ever indulgent of his sweet boy) but he would probably have to be in control the entire time while simultaneously barking orders at the third party about how to pleasure Rain properly.

(12) THE SADISTIC LITTLE SHIT (AFFECTIONATE) AND HIS “DEK NGO” "DEK NARAK"

I know PhayuRain and their kink list is longer than the elevator ride to hell but I’m going to focus on what in my opinion is Phayu’s poison of choice. That is sadism and degradation.

More specifically emotional and psychological sadism mostly. I don’t think he’s particularly opposed to physical sadism though. In the special episode he said he punished Rain until he was sore but Rain liked it. Although this is vague and he could have been sore for different reasons we see in Episode 2 when Phayu is berating Rain for breaking into the illegal race that isn’t above spanking Rain.

I don’t really know for sure if Rain is a masochist though I think he is definitely willing to try things with Phayu but he didn’t really seem to enjoy the spanking but I guess that was mostly because they didn’t know each other that well.

So I think while Phayu is mainly an emotional sadist and he prefers it he partakes in physical sadism with Rain because I think Rain would prefer that more based on his personality. This is mainly because of his obvious praise kink.

(CC: Rain’s blissed out expression when Phayu whispered “keng mak” i.e. “Good job” in his ear in the bathroom stall scene after Rain had followed his instructions.)

So the degradation that comes along with emotional sadism may not be Rain’s cup of tea.

After the incident in Episode 3 where Phayu told Rain to change ‘ngo’ to ‘narak’ ; I think he realised how insecure Rain was about being called stupid and that this was a hard limit for Rain. We can see as the story progress after this incident where Phayu either calls him “naughty boy” or some version of good boy.

I do think that this is an example of how Phayu is willing to tailor and transform his kinks and compromise to ensure that Rain is comfortable. He realised that Rain responds far better to praise and made the necessary adjustments.

We also see Phayu’s penchant for degradation and humiliation in Episode 3 where he buys Rain extra small underwear. Although they were the correct size for Rain, Phayu had to throw in a little dick size shaming for his own amusement. The smug little smile after he riles Rain up about this speaks for itself.

However I wanted to fight him when he made my baby Rain cry in episode 5 after he made Rain think that he didn’t want to be with him anymore. Although I kind of feel like this was sort of more punishment for the fact that Rain ran off after their first time in Episode 4 and made him worry. I guess it’s safe to add dacryphilia to their long ass kink list. Phayu you sadistic little shit.

If we also listen to the words of Phayu in his little speech before they make out in episode 5, I swear the only thing missing from this was Phayu getting down on one knee and proposing to Rain.

He says:

We can see that he enjoys this and gets off on being the one to tease and degrade Rain. He knows Rain’s limits and he ensures that he follows up any degradation with praise as a salve to any open wounds he’s caused with his words. I think Rain eventually adapts to this part of Phayu however because in Episode 7 he tells Phayu that he is willing to let Phayu tease him forever.

I love how they are both willing to adapt and compromise to better serve each other’s needs. Phayu constantly keeps Rain off kilter constantly guessing, constantly teasing him but at the same time he ensures that Rain understands that Phayu loves him and he is valued.

Phayu is constantly and reflexively adjusting himself to meet Rain's needs from moment to moment and I applaud him for it. Good job Daddy you get a gold star for all your hard work.

(13) PHAYU THE INVENTOR OF HEALTHY COMMUNICATION

This definitely has to be one of my favourite things about Phayu. I’m sure Rain isn’t the first person Phayu has attempted to have some sort of D/s relationship with and at the core of this is communication, consent and boundaries.

D/s relationships especially 24/7 ones involve copious amounts of consent and negotiation and communication but I know that the show couldn’t necessarily explicitly address the fact that they are in a 24/7 D/s relationship so we don’t get any sit down moments where Phayu and Rain discuss it blatantly. However I would assume that at some point Phayu sat Rain down and explained to him what their dynamic is and what was expected of him.

We definitely see how much Phayu values communication in the Special Episode when Rain misreads a situation. Where he sees Phayu talking to Natsu on the couch in Phayu’s home. I mean to be fair sparks were flying between them. I don’t know if that was just a Boss thing because good God this man can generate sexual tension with a wall. (Went off on a tangent there moving on back to communication.)

I think that Phayu understands that Rain has a sort of inferiority complex that is made worse by people being constantly baffled as to how Rain ended up with a guy like Phayu. Rain also most likely due to immaturity and lack of life experience has a problem with communication and conflict resolution.

Phayu has to drag the confession out of Rain about why he’s upset with him. We see where this man has quite literally done nothing wrong yet still he gets on his knees to apologise and tries to make it up to Rain.

I love that Phayu possesses the maturity to never allow misunderstandings to remain unaddressed and fester. Although Rain may lack the maturity to speak up and directly tell Phayu what is bothering him in any given situation, Phayu ensures that they talk it out so that their conflicts do not go unresolved and that resentment does not have the opportunity to set in.

(14) PHAYU SEX & SEXUALITY

Phayu is an unapologetically shameless and sexual person. This comfortability in his sexuality and his lack of preoccupation with other people's opinion of him allows him to exude a calm self assurance and striking sex appeal subconsciously.

This comfortability with his own sexuality was displayed many times throughout the series. In Episode 3 when that are at the porridge shop and Phayu goads Rain into being unashamed of the fact that they were in public and on a date with each other.

In Episode 5 after Rain told Sky that he was dating Phayu he said he was happy that Rain told his best friend about them because he understands that he would be apprehensive in case Sky would start to see him differently. I like that he lets Rain come out on his own time and he doesn’t rush him. Lastly in Episode 6 Phayu proudly introduces Rain as his boyfriend to P’ Chai at the street race.

Phayu is a readymade character who has presumably gone through the stage in his life where he would have explored his sexuality and unusual proclivities and has come to the point of acceptance. I think that is why he is portrayed as someone who knows exactly what he likes and enjoys and is unashamed of it.

This is why he seems to be such a safe place for Rain to explore the full spectrum of his own sexuality. There is never any judgement in Phayu's eyes when they uncover another one of Rain’s off the walls kinks. We just see at most a sort of mild amusement and an instant willingness to acquiesce and indulge Rain.

Phayu being out and proud made Rain feel like it was ok to have these feelings so his apprehension about identifying as such quickly dissipated.He’s constantly willing to teach, indulge and hold Rain’s hand through this journey and I just think that’s so neat.

Everyone deserves to have a safe place like Phayu when dipping their toes in and navigating the troubled unpredictable waters of sex and sexuality especially when coming to terms with their own queerness.

WHAT IS PHAYU’S MAIN MOTIVATION THAT UNDERSCORES EVERYTHING SINGLE ACTION THAT HE TAKES?

The simple answer to this is control. This is important because I don’t see Phayu as someone who particularly chases after power but control? Yes most definitely.Power is the ability to make something happen. Control is the ability to make something happen the way you want. We are all created differently but Phayu needs control at all times in the same way we need oxygen to survive. It’s just the way his wires were crossed.

Phayu could have easily just admitted to Rain on their first meeting that he remembered him and he could have left it to chance how their encounter would have gone. He could have also gone through the Prapaiesque route and just pursued Rain himself.

But he was different; he made sure that he was in control of their dynamic from the very beginning. The aforementioned options left far too many variables that could have thrown a wrench in Phayu’s end game which was getting Rain.

He even somehow managed to get Rain to pursue him and have him think that it was his idea. Even though he was the one who liked Rain from the very beginning.

This desperate all-consuming need to be in control at all times is tempered by Phayu’s ability to adequately shoulder the responsibility that comes with that control. Everything he does is calculated. There is always an end goal. Consequently he thrives and is most content when he has someone like Rain to be in charge of in a sense.

The contentment and ease that seems to overtake Phayu when he and Rain are in an established relationship is a sight to see. He’s no longer untethered; he's firm and grounded.

CHARACTER’S RELATIONSHIP TO THE PLOT

There isn’t too much angst and the denouement/final conflict just concerns external factors and has nothing to do with Phayu Rain’s romantic relationship

The plot is just romance; from the meet cute in the rain to the established relationship. I love how we just felt like we were along for the ride to watch two men fall irrevocably in love with each other and fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces.

CHARACTER’S GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT THROUGHOUT THE SERIES

I’m going to be honest I don’t think there was much life altering character growth with Phayu. When we meet Phayu he seems like a fully fleshed out character who knows what he wants and isn’t ashamed of his proclivities and sexuality so there is no room to explore there or for any consequent development. Phayu is a static character with no change in behaviour, and his values and attitudes remain pretty consistent throughout the entirety of the text and the series.

I don’t think I’m getting over PhayuRain anytime soon. If you got all the way to the end I hope you enjoyed my ramblings. Let me know if you guys have anything to add. The plot as well as the characters in this show were a far cry from perfect but I keep coming back to it so they must have done something right.

#phayurain #phayu lita #love in the air the series #boss chaikamon #phayu #payurain #noeul nuttarat #phayu love in the air #rain lita #phayu x rain #I’m obsessed with this man #it’s very unhealthy #makes constant grabby hands at his gender #Phayu’s my ideal gender presentation #he’s chaos incarnate and I just want to keep him in my pocket

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myoddessy · 2 years

Text

evermore. cl16

summary—you had fallen in love with charles to the sound of squeaking tricycles and high-pitched laughter. You'd loved him through every race, just as he'd loved you through every audition. Loving him had become as natural as breathing, so when he walks out the door for the last time, your left choked and alone.

what to expect—actress!reader, angst (lots of angst), based on a load of songs from taylor swift's evermore, mostly focused around charles' pov, slightly rushed/kinda open ending. for the sake of drama let's pretend that Monaco and Spa gps were in the same month in 2022.

word count—3.8k

He's a nice guy. You know it, he knows it, everyone who's ever heard of the name Charles Leclerc would know he's a nice guy. He was a gentleman. He followed the sidewalk rule, opened doors for you, practically threw his jacket at you the second you so much as shivered around him.

But more than that, more than the kindness that you could find anywhere if you looked hard enough, Charles understood you. He saw you, really saw you. He knew you as more than record breaker, more than a star, more than a lover, more than a friend. In mornings of intimacy and nights of passion, Charles had built you a home in his heart and swore you would always be safe there.

But now, as you stood in your kitchen, staring blankly at the empty chairs, you knew you could call Charles one more thing.

A liar.

You cursed yourself for feeling bitter, knowing he hadn't left your apartment that night unscathed either. You almost wished he had. Maybe if there was an actual villain in your story, it would be easier to admit that it's over.

If he wasn't such a nice guy. If he had screamed at you, demeaned you, equated your self to nothing, you could convince yourself you were better off without him. But you weren't. You know it, he knows it, anyone who met you before him knows it too.

You sigh and roll your eyes because you know as much as you try to hate him, you never will. He will never be your villain, so you'll just have to settle with him being nothing.

You'd faced heartbreak before, but those guys had all worked in your fairytale favour. Much needed antagonists, if you will. With every snide remark towards your success, they'd pushed you towards Charles' open arms. You'd learned how to cope with that pain, but this one was different. Nobody teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you, after all.

Some nights, when you woke up because of a window you forgot to close, you swear you can still feel him. Still hear the light hum of his sleeping breaths. Still smell the homely scent of his cologne. But then, when you turn to the other side of the bed, hoping all of this had just been a bad dream, your met with cold pillows and empty space, and remember that this is your life now, not what once was.

You had to break all your habits, forge new routines, because everything had been reliant on Charles. Instead of calling him as soon as you got back from set, you started running baths and catching up on episodes of shows you used to love that never suited his taste. Instead of carving days out of your limited free time to fly to who-knows-where for races, you explored the cities you were in and rekindled lost bonds with old friends.

Ever since Charles had left, on a surface level, you'd been thriving. Your friends admired it, saying you were strong and powerful for how you'd taken your heartbreak and turned it to success.

They didn't need to know about the slipping of your hand when you make enough dinner for two, or how you found yourself reverting back to the playlist of French classics he'd made for you whenever you felt particularly lonely.

It had been two months. Days ticked by and with every one that passed, you found yourself selfishly hoping that Charles Leclerc would disappear. From your memory, from your heart, from your world. Because every time you felt you were having a breakthrough, every time you made just enough breakfast, you'd leave the house and see magazine cover celebrating his success, every time you found a new song to listen to, you overhear a rumour that he took a model back to his hotel last weekend.

There was a time when you'd happily let Charles occupy your mind, but that time was long passed, and you needed it to stay that way.

No matter how well—or unwell—you handled it on your own, Charles couldn't say he fared much better. He still pulled out two wine glasses, still reached out to nothing in the dead of night, still heard the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears when the shrieks of fans should drown it out.

He swore he was going insane, but what a beautiful torment you were, and if seeing your shadow around every city street was his downfall, then hysteria was welcomed with open arms.

He wished he could say he didn't regret it. That ending things was what was best. He could say that at the time, but as days came and went, he found himself doubting. He had insisted that both of your schedules would be the death of you. With him flying around the world to race and to train, and you being flown out to anywhere and everywhere to film, and pose, and answer questions that he knew you hated, you had to fight tooth and nail to spend any time with each other.

Charles hated to admit it, but most of the sacrifice had come from you. You never complained, of course you didn't, you were nice like that. Loving, understanding. Of course you wouldn't tell him about the offers you declined and the covershoots you'd missed to visit him at a race. You never wanted him to know, but he found out anyway.

He was in the en suite, you were in the bedroom. Charles remembered that you'd gotten a call before he got in the shower, he had made note to ask why you looked so stressed when you answered. You'd kept your voice quiet, Charles only later understanding why.

So engrossed in the conversation, you hadn't noticed Charles shut the water off, nor had you heard him open the bathroom door. Your back was facing him.

"Viv, I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry, but I can't take it on right now. I'm booked to go to Spa that week, then I have to come back to Monaco, you know how important it is that I'm there." Your voice was soft, Charles couldn't tell if you were fighting tears or consoling someone. He could vaguely hear the person on the other line.

"Y/n, this is huge! I mean, come on, you've talked about wanting to work with Wes Anderson how many times? Can't you miss two races?"

"I know." Your agent was a tough woman to bargain with, but you knew she only ever wanted the best for you. "But I can't miss these, he needs the support. He deserves it."

Charles didn't hear the rest of what was said, moving into the bathroom again to look at his reflection with a wave of guilt hitting him suddenly. He splashed cold water on his face, preparing himself to face you and tell you that you needed to take the job. That, even if the luck that came with your presence pulled through, any victories would pale in comparison to how selfish he'd feel knowing what you gave up to be there.

But when he finally reopened the door, and he saw the happy smile you gave him with a small hum of good shower? the words died on his tongue. He would regret it for forever, but he didn't dare ruin the domesticity of the night with tears and arguments.

Now, three months after the split, Charles sees a tweet announcing a new film. Normally he ignored those notices, you always told him the important stuff anyway, but when he saw your picture posed proudly, he stalled. A leading role in the new Wes Anderson feature, set to start filming a month from then. He didn't feel sadness or jealousy at your ability to succeed, he smiled and carried on with his day.

The next time Charles was reminded of memories of you was a mere week after he saw the tweet, when he decided to take a run through the streets of Monaco. He passed a park on his way, slowing to a walk to admire the scenery. It wasn't anything abnormal, people walking their dogs, couples strolling with linked arms, kids screeching with joy as they ran around the playground.

But the one thing that made him stop was two children sitting on a bench near the gates. Their legs hung over the edges, swinging back and forth while they talked. The shorter one, the girl with twin plaits and a frilly pink dress had her head tilted to the sky, giggling at the clouds passing by, murmuring something about how they looked like bunnies. The taller one, the boy with a shaggy haircut and baggy clothes, however, had his eyes trained on her, nodding mindlessly while she babbled on excitedly, a noticeable blush on his face. And, suddenly, he's five years old again, playing with his toy car in the same playground with a bright-eyed girl in a pink frilly dress running up to him to tell him his hair is funny.

He remembers being offended at first, then falling into a fit of laughter to match hers. He didn't learn her name that day, nor the day after when they bumped into each other in the same way, in fact, it wasn't until a week after when he finally learned her name, and it was through pure chance.

It happened in a bakery, one he hasn't stepped foot in in three months. He'd been dragged along on errands by his mother, coaxed by the promise of pastries at the end. He waited impatiently on a highstool facing the window while she ordered, his head resting on folded arms. Then, after what felt like a century, he heard his mother come up behind him, a large bag of sweets in on hand, the other thrown around the shoulder of another woman.

"Oh my, he's grown so much!" The woman exclaimed. All Charles did was look at her funny, the only thing he wanted to do was go home and eat. The overhead bell rang as the door opened.

"Mama!" A small, high-pitched voice called. "Papa says we need to go or we'll be late to the shoot." A young girl walked up to the woman Charles didn't quite know. She wore a pink dress that Charles recognized in an instant—quite impressive for a five year old, he'd later brag. Oh, so you were always down bad, Lando would then chime in, and chaos would ensue.

She gasped happily. "Funny Hair!" She exclaimed, pointing at Charles. Their mothers exchanged confused looks. "Mama, this is the boy from the park. The one who let me play with the cars!"

Pascale saw the bashful face on her boy and smiled warmly, placing a hand on his back to help him off the chair. She nudged her head towards you, silently urging Charles to properly introduce himself. "I'm Charles." He mumbled, nervous under three pairs of eyes.

Dimples carved into your cheeks at your gap-toothed grin. "I'm Y/n." You reached forward and shook his hand, turning to your mother once more to politely remind her that you had somewhere very important to be.

With goodbyes and promises of coffee and lunch while you and your parents were still in Monaco, you left, leaving Charles with nothing more than a red face, a fast-beating heart, and a name to put to the girl who insulted his hair. You saw each other here and there after, your mothers dragging you both along when they met up until it eventually became you dragging them out the door in sheer eagerness to see each other again.

Many things changed since those fateful days in Monaco. You grew from TV ads to Hollywood leads, he grew from toy cars to formula tracks. You both stopped hating adults who kissed in your presence, and ended up being the bane of his cousins' existence. One thing that didn't change, however, was Charles forcing you to sit down and watch the, now old, Sky TV ad you were rushing off to film when he first learned your name.

Charles smiled at the sky as he carried on with his run.

Nobody could truly understand why you broke up, other than you and Charles. Beneath the adoration and pride, there was a hidden torment. A nagging feeling tugged at your heart every time you sat in Ferrari hospitality instead of curled up in a trailer, working on a project. A similar feeling washed over Charles every time he saw your shining eyes, knowing what should've been was forgotten so you could be here.

He hated what he was making you. He knew your career was your truest love and your dearest pride. He knew the blood, sweat, and tears you'd put into earing a name and a platform for yourself so you could support your family and help those who couldn't help themselves. He knew that your greatest joys would always come from performing, how you had a special smile reserved for when you saw the results of your work and dedication. He knew that, despite loving him wholly, you were changing who you were at your core to fit him.

He loved the sight of you cheering his name in a sea of red, but whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the way you looked when you turned down a job to support him, and feared that if it went on, you'd grow to resent him.

Above anything, his greatest fear was you seeing him as your downfall as opposed to your lover and, in the end, the only fate worse than being left in your past, was being someone you hated.

yourusername just posted !

Shit. Through everything, Charles had forgotten to turn off your post notifications. His thumb hovered over the screen, fighting temptation to see what you were up to. But, like he always was around you, Charles found himself helpless, clicking the banner and swallowing hard.

liked by zendaya, finnwolfhard, jennaortega, and 650,901 others

yourusername stumbled down pretend alleyways, cheap wine, make-believe it's champagne 🥂

zendaya babe you're glowing 🥺🥺

tchalamet 🔥🔥🔥

ynslover I WAS TAKEN BY RHE VIEW LIKE WE WERE IN PARUS

lecl3rcszn crying bcs y/n posts about being in Paris THE DAY AFTER I FLY BACK FROM THERE

On instinct, Charles liked the post, scrambling to unlike it with a sharp gasp moments later. He cursed himself for the slip of his thumb, praying nobody had caught it. But he knew yours and his fans well, and knew that at least one person had taken a screenshot in the time it took for him to realise his mistake. "Fuck." He groaned, tossing his phone across the bed and running his hands over his face, preparing for the media shitstorm that would come over the next few days.

You screamed into your pillow when you saw the notification.

“Who does he think he is?” You asked the empty room. Standing up from your bed to pace around, your dog looking at you with a quirked head. “Don’t judge me.” You pointed at her. “I mean, seriously, who the fuck likes their exes post not even a minute after it was uploaded?” You chewed on the side of your thumb. “It was probably a coincidence, right? I happened to post just when he refreshed his feed. He definitely doesn’t have my notifications on, does he?” Again, you were met with silence.

“Ugh!” You groaned out, falling onto your bed once again and covering your face with your hands. You thought you were over this shit, you thought you were over him. It had been months, you’d been on Vogue, you’d been on SNL, you’d done the interviews, and the ads, and the photoshoots, and you’d booked the role of your dreams, and with one stupid fucking like, Charles Leclerc had ruined it.

All of your work, all of the hours you’d poured into TheWizardLiz and whatever ‘New Mindset, New Me’ creators you’d found, was now worth nothing because you were back where you were three months ago. Lying in your unmade bed with a heavy heart and a mind full of Charles.

You wanted to cry. You’d tried so hard to put yourself and your progress in the forefront of your mind, but now all you could think about was the night he left.

He’d flown out to you in NYC, handful of roses and a pocketful of sunshine. You hoped he hadn’t come over with the intention of ending it. You didn’t know if you could handle him being that happy, all to break things off.

It was on the last day of his week-long stay. He’d made you a fancy dinner, lit candles, set flowers. A foolish part of you thought he was going to propose, but when his hands found yours on the couch later that night, what he said was anything but romantic.

The Dom Perignon on the table was long forgotten, the only sound between his words was the cracking of your glass heart. “It’s for the best.” You heard him say through the ringing in your ears. “We’ll grow to hate each other.” “I’ll always love you.” “Say something, please?”

“So we’re over? Just like that?” For the first time since he’d met you, the loud, vivacious girl he’d grown to love was nowhere to be seen. Your voice was hushed and small, your shoulders were hunched. You were making yourself small and it was his fault, the fact made him sick.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle, their was a crack in his words and tears in my eyes. You sniffled and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

“I- um- I think you should go.” Your voice was thick with tears shed and more welling up. Charles sighed and nodded in understanding. “I’m out tomorrow for lunch with Timothee and Saoirse at 1 so you can get your stuff then, if you want.” You mumbled out, barely audible as he stood by the door.

He halted halfway through the threshold, and the young girl in you with a pink dress and pigtails hoped he was going to turn back and kiss you and say it was all a dream. But he didn’t. He did something much worse.

“I really do love you, you know that, right?” A beat of silence. “And I really am sorry.”

That was when you knew you couldn’t hate him. Because you did know it, you knew he loved you. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what you both needed. You could hear him crying on the other side of the door, him resting against it for a minute or two before finally leaving.

He repeated a mantra in his head as he went down the elevator, It's for the best. Sometimes giving up is the right thing, he told himself as his footsteps echoed through the parking lot. Sometimes to run is the strong thing.

As he turned on the car and drove far away from his true home, he prayed that was true.

It had been 9 months since the break-up. Your feet ached from the heels you’d been wearing all night, and the comfort of your apartment had never been more appreciated. You really did it. The premiere was everything you could have wanted. The afterparty had stretched into the AM, and praise had been thrown at you for hours, much like the drinks.

But as early morning moonlight still lingered through the windows, you didn’t want the champagne, or the glitz and glamour, all you wanted was a nice, home-cooked meal. You sat up from the couch, stretching like a cat, designer gown still hugging your figure as you shuffled to the kitchen, rummaging through your cupboards to grab some pasta. You pressed shuffle on a playlist of your current favourite songs.

New York had never really been strange to Charles, whenever he visited, he always had an A-class tour guide in you. But as he wandered through the streets in their 4am glory, alone after Pierre abandoned him for some reason he couldn’t quite remember, he knew he couldn’t feel like more of a tourist if he tried. His eyes were hazy with sleep and a mild buzz from the club he’d just left, but his mind cleared when he looked up to the gleaming billboards and saw your face.

He smiled, continued walking, and thought about the times you’d practically pulled his arm off to show him around whenever he visited. He didn’t really know where he was going, but with the certainty in his heart, he knew his hotel must be somewhere near.

“Shit!” You cursed, your hand slipping for the first time in months. Enough pasta for two. At least I’ll have some left over for tomorrow. You thought with a huff. You swayed along to the music gently, humming the lyrics to invisible string with a content smile.

25C. That seemed right. Charles felt around his pockets for his keycard, grumbling indistinct complaints when he remembered he left it in the hotel room with the intent of using Pierre’s after the club. He raised his hand to knock, hoping his friend wasn’t too tired, or too occupied elsewhere.

A knock made you jump in your skin. “Who the fuck makes house calls at 4:30?” You asked yourself. You wiped your hands down with a cloth and walked to the door, too hungry to bother checking the peephole.

"Oh."

"Oh." Your jaw slacked and your hands grew clammy. You hid them behind the lavish ruffles of your dress.

Charles was knocked back to sobriety, wide awake, and heart thumping out of his chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was just in the area?"

You huffed out a laugh, Charles joined, and it soon transcended to a small fit of giggles.

"I think I'm a bit lost." He admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"You think?" You teased, and a small part of you was screaming at you to stop joking and slam the door, but the rest was elated in the comfort of the ease in which you talked.

He wasn't a stranger to you. He never would be.

You wondered if you'd regret what you were about to do when morning came.

"It's late, if you need a place to stay, I still have that extra room." You but the inside of your cheeks when his eyes widened. "And I accidentally made enough food for two people, so the choice is yours. We can catch up."

Charles looked to the apartment behind you, then back you, then back to the apartment, a silent game of tennis to see if you were really serious.

When you smiled at him and stepped aside, showing him the opportunity was his, all he had to do was grab it, he nearly jumped for joy. But instead of screaming and kissing you then and there, he just smiled with his usual boyish charm.

"I'd like that."

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one smut #celebrity!reader #famous!reader #actress!reader #formula one x you

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drconstellation · 6 months

Text

Detective Aziraphale

Aziraphale's Edinburgh Journey: Part 1

This is the beginning of a series of posts focusing on Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh in S2. Several times people have asked why he even had to make the trip - why didn't he just email the pub to ask his questions? Ah, thinking like true child of the 21st century, you are! In a narrative sense, its not that simple, especially in the GO narrative where there are always parallels to be found to enhance the story. And I think there a couple of other reasons why its been hard to understand the reason for this drawn-out and apparently dead-end investigation, which haven't really been explored or talked about much yet. We will start to look at one of them in this meta.

I mentioned a while ago when I was putting together the S2 Chiastic structure that I was hoping to find some hints to the purpose of the trip to Edinburgh. What it did reveal was that the trip was a larger parallel to Crowley's trip to Heaven with Muriel in S206. This is pair S; where the publican in the Resurrectionist asks Aziraphale if he one those investigative reporters in S203, matched with Crowley bounding up to Muriel at the end of S2E5 and declaring "Officer, I need to report a crime."

Both Crowley and Aziraphale have fantasy alternative personas. Most of us are familiar with Crowley's James Bond role-playing from time to time and other hints of tough masc characters he sees in films.

When he dons the "tactical turtleneck" we know there is some kind of super-spy power cosplay going on (and it also extends to other characters, such as Gabriel and Saraqael, if you pay close attention.) Hence why it's part of his costume when he infiltrates Heaven.

But we don't often see this wishful side of Aziraphale's, other than his dream of being a magician. According to Neil, he also sees himself as a journalist, a detective and a "man of the world." *

The publican asks Aziraphale if he is one of those "investigative reporters" when he arrives at the Resurrectionist, and sometimes that is the dual role of a journalist, to be both a detective and a reporter.

Crowley has gone upstairs to gain access Gabriel's record, the one place he can do that.

Aziraphale also gets hold of Gabriel's record...er, recorded song.

Hang on, no. That's not right way to look at it, actually.

While you might think the focus is still on finding out about Gabriel in Edinburgh, Aziraphale's mirror in S2 is Beelzebub, so there is a slight twist in the way we need to consider various aspects here.

Perhaps this should be "Aziraphale gets a hold of Beelzebub's music" instead, because he's really going to Edinburgh to find out more about Beelzebub, he just doesn't realize it.

Yep, you heard me right. The trip to Edinburgh is not a fact-finding mission about Gabriel, its actually a fact-finding mission about Beelzebub. And he doesn't get the answers he needs.

Neither does Crowley, by the way.

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking. Anyway, Armageddon the Sequel, that's a nah.

Crowley wonders out aloud why Gabriel changed his mind about starting another Armageddon, but the trial doesn't really answer that either. Nothing is really answered until Gabriel regains his memories, in the end.

To round out this post about the parallel investigations, each of them take an opposite with them, that they couldn't have got there without: Crowley takes an angel (Muriel) and Aziraphale takes a demon. Well, something demonic, anyway. **

Thank you to @komorezuki for pointing out that the trip to Edinburgh was really about Beelzebub. While you could still do this post making it a full Gabriel parallel, in the long run it makes more sense to look at the other way, as I hope to show you in the forthcoming posts.

*I thought I had a link to the post that this came from, then lost it. I've spent several hours trying to find it again with no luck, so if you know the post I'm referring to please let me know so I can link it!

**I've read that Aziraphale could have taken the train in less time it would have taken to drive, and that the train station is only a short walk from the pub etc. But this wouldn't have driven the narrative!

This series continues in the following posts:

Part 2: Aziraphale-Beelzebub Parallels Part 3: Stocktaking in the Basement Part 4: Judgement Day Part 5: I Know Where I'm Going

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #gabriel #beelzebub #edinburgh #chiastic structure #tactical turtleneck

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greg-montgomery · 1 year

Text

Ivy - Part 12

gif by: @hotch-girl <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

i'm a liar and a clown - this isn't the last part, this is mostly smut.

Warnings: this chapter is nsfw - 18+

also warning for um...condescending aaron? but he's sweet about it.

Minors DNI

Chapter summary: again...( ͡° ��ʖ ͡°) lmfao

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You had expected the princess treatment to end sooner or later but it only kept getting worse.

Aaron had insisted on being the one to get your stuff from Sean’s house. And of course after bringing all your things home, there wasn’t even a discussion about where said things would go. Aaron’s place was the only right answer.

Not that you were complaining of course. He was gone for work most of the day, so living in his home – your home too, as he kept correcting you – gave you the opportunity to take in as much of him as possible.

It could be almost perfect, if it wasn’t for the thought of Sean eating you alive. You were waiting for that phone call, that message that he was finally ready to speak with you, every single day. And the more the time passed with no signal from him the more your feelings got unbearable.

It would take time to make peace with the fact that you and the man you loved were the villains in someone else’s story. You wanted Sean to forgive you, but you were well aware you also needed to forgive your own self in order to move on.

Part of you felt that maybe you deserved what you had gone through; that maybe being kidnapped was your punishment for being unfaithful to your ex-boyfriend.

Aaron would go crazy if you brought those thoughts to his attention, so you had chosen to stay quiet about it.

“What are you thinking about, honey?” he asked, pushing your hair back as he joined you on the couch.

“Nothing in particular.” You smiled.

“You know, I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” You raised your brow, intrigued.

“I never took you out for a date,” he said, his voice more melancholic than excited. “Never asked you out.”

“Well the circumstances weren’t ideal for something like this,” you said, in the same tone as his.

“I wanna do it. The first date, the flowers.”

“Aaron…” you laughed.

“I mean it. Y/N,” he se said, his voice turning serious, “Are you free tomorrow night? I would like to take you out to dinner.”

You gave him a sweet smile. “Yes, Aaron. I’m free and I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

This man had been inside you, and yet blushed like a tomato to you agreeing to go on a date with him.

He wanted it to be perfect.

That included your favorite flowers, his best suit, and of course him leaving the house for a few hours so he could come back when you were ready to pick you up for the date.

Aaron’s heart was racing as he rang the doorbell of his own house. He thought it was funny how the girl he was essentially living with, gave him butterflies as if he was a teenager picking up his prom date from her parents’ house.

You opened the door with a big smile, stealing his breath away.

I’m so in love with her, he thought.

He didn’t say it though – it would have been a terrible opening line for a first date.

“You look like a dream,” he chose to say instead.

Your shy smile made his heart flutter. Aaron was so mesmerized by you, he had almost forgotten to offer you the beautiful bouquet of flowers he was holding.

“Are those for me?” you asked, reminding him of it.

“Yes,” he rushed to reply, giving them to you. “I hope you like them.”

“They’re perfect. Thank you, Aaron.”

A gentleman as always, Aaron opened every single door for you, pulled your chair out, and showered you with compliments. It felt good and had you wishing you had done everything in the correct order.

You chose not to dwell on it though, and focused on the conversation you were having with the sweet man at your table.

“And I had to wait in line for four hours. It was hell,” you groaned, letting your head fall back.

“Wait, when was this?” Aaron asked you.

“Three years ago. The day before New Year’s Eve,” you answered, sipping some of your red wine. “I’ll never forget that day.”

“Y/N, what time were you there?”

“What?”

“What time were you there?” he insisted.

“I don’t remember exactly but I was there at least an hour before the store had opened. I was desperate.”

“I was there too,” Aaron said.

“What?” you asked, the palms of your hands covering your mouth. “You were there at the same time?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “I was there an hour before the store opened. I thought it would be early enough.”

“Aaron,” you giggled. “We were there at the same time.”

“We were.” He smiled.

You reached out your hand to hold his. “Imagine how frustrated I was that I didn’t notice the sexiest man in the world waiting in line with me.”

Aaron’s smirk made you laugh again. He lifted your joined hands to kiss your knuckles. “You were always around, weren’t you?”

“I guess I was.” It was your turn to kiss his hand now. “Waiting for my prince charming.”

“I just wish-”

“We should stop that,” you interrupted him. “This is the way things are. You have me and I have you now. That’s all that matters. We’re only looking forward from now on.”

“You’re right, my love.”

“Well this is me,” you said with a shy smile, pointing at Aaron’s house.

“Hm…” he said, his one eyebrow lifted.

You looked up finding him staring at you with a handsome smirk. At that moment it truly felt like the end of a first date; the excitement of the possibility of sharing a ‘first kiss’ with that man, making your stomach turn in the best kind of way.

“Thanks for driving me home,” you grinned, and you could see he was holding back his laughter at your act.

“Of course.”

He was not going to make a move.

So you moved closer, swinging your purse left and right. “Good night, Aaron.”

“Good night, sweet girl.”

“No good night kiss?” You frowned.

“Good girls should not make offers like this,” he said, sternly. “I might take advantage of you.”

You closed the gap between your bodies, and grabbed his tie. “Oh Aaron, you have no clue how bad I want you to take advantage of me.”

Aaron chuckled and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his tie. He made it rest on his shoulder as he pressed soft kisses on the inside of your arm. “You’re bold.”

“Aaron,” you said, in a tone that translated: let’s stop this game – I want you.

His large hands cupped your face through your hair and pulled you close enough that his nose was brushing against yours. “I like it when you get all needy for me. It’s cute.”

“It’s also painful.”

“Have I ever denied you anything? You’re gonna get everything you want, I promise.”

And with that, he kissed you with the passion and gentleness of a true first kiss.

Back in his bedroom, your fingers were playing with the zipper of his pants, the hardness you could feel and see underneath the fabric making you clench your thighs together for some relief.

You palmed him through his boxers and the groan he let out went through your entire body like a spark. You slowly lowered yourself on your knees, taking his trousers down with you.

The sight of his thick thighs was already making you drool, filling you with a strong urge to bite every single inch of his body. You placed your palms on them, running your hands up and down his hairy legs; your touches followed by small kisses, licks and bites.

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“I’m enjoying you,” you answered.

His hand got lost in your hair, pulling it carefully to make you look up and into his eyes. “Honey,” he said, and it sounded like a request; an order.

“Sorry,” you smiled, leaving a last sweet kiss on the inside of his thigh. “Didn’t mean to neglect this part of you.”

Your opened mouthed kisses moved to his clothed cock, causing him to let out a heavy breath - deliciously close to a moan.

You hooked your fingers on the waistline of his boxers, carefully pulling them down, exposing his hard dick. The tip of it was just begging you to lick it, so that was what you did. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, leaving a few kisses down his length, before taking him into your mouth.

After a few minutes of having him inside, Aaron used his grip on your hair to push your head back. “Stop.”

You feared that there was something wrong, but Aaron’s next words made you realize that that wasn’t the case.

“Take your clothes off.”

Instinctively, you immediately did what he said. Not making a show out of it, but definitely taking your time, you took off your dress and your pretty underwear.

“Come here,” he said, when you were finally fully naked. His one hand moved between your legs, while the other traced patterns on the back of your neck.

“How does it feel down there?” he asked with fake concern; his middle finger brushing against your clit, and his touch light enough not to offer any actual relief.

“Hurts a little.” You pouted.

“You can play with it if you want,” he said, moving his finger in a slow circular motion. “While you suck me off. It’s okay,” he added, sweetly. “Just don’t get too distracted. Alright, baby?”

“Mhm.” You nodded and sank back to your knees. After Aaron’s touch you were burning for more, so you lost no time before moving your own hand between your legs, as your lips were once more wrapped around his cock.

He was right about the ‘distracted’ part. It was hard to stay concentrated when you were chasing your own orgasm but Aaron’s voice brought you back to your senses. “Focus, baby.”

You pulled him out of you for a moment, your split still connecting your lips with his cock, as you mumbled a sweet “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re doing so good,” he reassured you, his palm cupping your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this.”

His praise made you even more eager and soon you were choking on his dick, Aaron’s heavy breaths and moans satisfying you more than you could ever explain.

“I’m close,” he sighed. “Wanna cum on your tits.”

He didn’t need to say anything else, you straightened your back, still on your knees and pressed your breasts together so Aaron could finish on you. You could focus on his cock fucking his fist or the white liquid that was falling on you, but instead you chose to pay attention to his face. The expression of ultimate pleasure he had on him, the drops of sweat on his forehead that made it glisten and made you feel disgusting enough to wanna lick them away.

He looked like a god and all you wanted to do was stay on your knees for the rest of time, just for him.

Part 13

ivy tag list: @preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild @iammirrorball @rousethemouse @kishie8 @save-the-sky @ssacharcoalgrey @realdirectionx @itsmytimetoodream @art-and-thoughts @red-red-rogue @dellalyra @feetgypsy @stella95827 @katieslotherford @jazzymariexoxoc @quietlyignoringyou @justarandommom @sebastiansstanswhore @lelifesaver @aaron-hotchners-girlfriend @whyamihere96 @sylvieofasgard @redbleedingrose @222brooke @xoprincessmel @girlintheredscarf @radical-gecko @yeehawbitchs @jazzerbelle14 @jayxox @adrienette715 @fudosl @sardonic-courtney @emlynblack @kizzywh @formulapierre @crocodilefeet2707 @mojo366 @spicysimpura @twelfthnightorwhatyouwill1998 @mrs-ssa-hotch @clairedragonessbaker @n0t-yours-you-w1sh @tipsyteenstoday @potatoesonacouch @the-fantasy-loving-angel @my-beel @lex13cm @chibsytelford @crimsonincursive @yourdryadwife @peachysnips

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner smut #sean hotchner x reader #hotch 🪐#ivy #nsfw.

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raindrop-on-a-spiderweb · 6 months

Note

Sending love to one of the best writers on ao3 😘💕 I check your page frequently and wanted to ask about the things that you enjoy doing or aspire to do

Hi Anon, it's so sweet of you to send this ask to ask after me. Rest assured your words are appreciated on this end; thank you from the bottom of my heart and top of my soul 🫂 I'm very glad you think highly of my work even after so long, and I'm so so sorry I haven't had any new content in such a long time. But I am hard at work on a oneshot that will definitely be published before the next chapter of Samarra, so the well won't stay dry for long! The summary is “A jaded prison nurse must come to rely on a man she hates and fears in the midst of a deadly prison riot.” I started writing it in the ward; it's based off of the Moundsville Penitentiary which is an especially spooky place I've been to–an old 19th century prison made of towering stone turrets, eerie high ceilings, and rusted iron cells packed together like pigsties. I'm hoping to get that atmosphere across; it's about ⅔ of the way finished so good progress is being made!

Well I enjoy writing, most of all, but I've already talked about that in detail a thousand times so I'll spare you. I love reading, of course (I just finished “The Five”, about the victims of Jack the Ripper, and it's a fascinating bit of history and an incredible and horrifying look at Victorian-era industrial Britain). I love exploring the mountains with my cats trotting along beside me and photographing what I find. In all honesty I'm a bit of a trappist–I rarely see people except hunters and cashiers, and most of my time is spent alone with myself or my dad. But each day is an adventure when you're in nature and each season brings primordial and beautiful changes– I collected watercress the other day and found the downy remains of a fawn.

I love watching old movies. My dad and I were watching Laurel and Hardy last night and I swear it holds up a century later. Before that we watched King Rat, which is one of his–and my–favorite movie; about two men stuck in a Japanese prison camp and the Machiavellian and underhanded ways they survive there. The book is particularly good too, and the epilogue about rats devouring each other has haunted my dreams for a long time.

On the same subject, a series that I highly recommend is called Tenko, which is very similar to King Rat, except the prisoners are women. It's so grueling, realistic and enrapturing; I've never seen anything that so squarely focuses on women's experiences, relationships with each other, the hardships they face, and how they struggle to survive together in a thankless, deprived environment. The backstabbing and despair that comes in their darkest moments, the love and support in which they uplift each other with, their mistrustful and uneven relationships with their captors that occasionally erupt in friendships and affairs–and all the episodes are on dailymotion, too!

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x74u4fi

I like dreaming most of all. So many of my story ideas come from my dreams. The worst thing in the world is waking up and trying to catch the stray strands of the dream slipping through your fingers. It's amazing to live so many lives–good or bad–inside your head. Sometimes when I wake up, I feel a sweeping, palpable sense of relief that I don't live in the world I conjured last night, and sometimes I wish I could just claw myself back into my brain and live in that little pocket world for the rest of my life.

I do not aspire to much. I don't really have any base wishes but to keep writing and live til 70. We all have our hopeful fantasies, of course, and when I finally do get Ragnatela on Amazon Kindle (Microsoft Word is trying to swindle me out of one hundred and fifty American dollars to use their dogshit platform, and since the manuscript is half-edited, I'm afraid to lose my formatting if I switched to a free program like Libreoffice) maybe it will get some attention.

I still intend on writing on Ao3 until the day I die, though. Even with its unsavory content I have such a soft spot for its unrestricted freedom of speech and prose. Plus I don't want to give up talking to you guys and goofing off in the comments ☹️ I also aspire to stop drinking. I'm sure I've already shaved a few years off my lifespan with my tippling habit. But when one day is much like the other, is there much point in extending it?

I aspire to travel around the United States more. I took a trip through the Deep South to visit Savannah and it was enrapturing; something I will remember for the rest of my life. Rusted-out cars felted in green moss, skinny, grazing horses in windswept fields, peeling roadside signs advertising tent revivals, clownish golliwogs behind still windows of cafes, forgotten tugboats half-sunken into lagoons, highway strip hotels where craggy hookers peered at you suspiciously from their fold-up chairs, and derelict cemeteries separated between Union and Confederate. It was just post-Irma and we were often the only tourists at any of these places. The effects of the hurricane were stark and obvious, with the land in a state of shock before any official agencies came to clean them up. I remember boats crashed into the harbor and grandfather trees felled in front of opulent antebellum homes, and the sea churned brown and murky when we trekked to the beach. The sense of desolation, and not only from the hurricane, was chilling–but I loved being there and loved being swathed by the kudzu and history. My mother is very ill and before she dies we might make up briefly and take a trip to New Orleans together and explore rural Louisiana; I'd always wanted to write a story set in New Orleans. Louisiana is a fascinating state with its mixture of Napoleonic and Creole influences; and I've always been drawn to the grand, decaying tombs of New Orleans as much as I have been to the odd Francophone swamps and their hidden dialects and traditions. And one day I would like to go way, way out west and explore the Gold Rush ghost towns. All the mines where I am are filled-in, so I would like to venture underneath the earth just once.

Most of all, I aspire to be alone, and live by myself for the rest of my life, far away from town, somewhere in the mountains like where I am now. I wish I didn't have to see another person for the rest of my life. Being alone with myself is bad enough, being with others is intolerable.

Anyways, I apologize for my undue pleonasm, you caught me in a chatty mood 😀 Here's an excerpt from the newest prison one-shot:

Rhoda had met Jesse Fitzner her first day on the job. It was midway through her shift, and she was taking a lunch break and grading her sister Sherise's homework in her office. The day had started with a white-knuckle ride in early morning mist so thick she couldn't see the taillights of the car in front of her. Midway through her preliminary tour of the prison, an inmate had stuffed his toilet full of socks, which promptly overflowed and leaked sewage out of the cell onto her high heels. The hoots and jeers had made her speed up, trying to avoid the leering eyes of her future patients. And her introduction to the mental ward, by a younger but just as pessimistic Fawna, had not lifted her mood any either.

So there she sat in her office, snatching a moment of calmness and frantically scribbling corrections over Sherise's homework before her sister turned it in tomorrow. And then the door swung open.

A blond man poked his head in and briefly raised his eyebrows. He was wearing the omnipresent, drab gray prison uniform, pants and a sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. "What are you up to?"

She flipped the cover of the notebook over.

"Going over my sister's homework. Is there something you need?"

"Passing on a message to Nurse Judson. One of the inmates wants to switch his blood pressure medication."

"Oh, she'll be back soon. I think she's–doing something with the prisoners. Just give her a few minutes."

"No hurry." He pulled the chair opposite her and sat down in it. "So you're grading your kid sister's homework? Shouldn't she be doing that herself?"

The man had thick blond hair that stuck up in back like a duck's tail, and very rosy cheeks. He looked like he had just shaven, by the nicks on his neck.

"It's a long story. I should be–"

"I've got time. If this is your first day, you need to take some time to yourself to relax--else you'll end up in the infirmary."

Rhoda laughed. He had a nice smile and a nice manner about him–very jovial and friendly. It was refreshing to see a man who didn't stare at her like she was a piece of meat. "Well, my parents died when my brother and I were still young. Seth was seventeen, I was fifteen. He went to work so we didn't have to break up the family, and I stayed home to care for my little siblings, all three of them. It wasn't fun. I always wanted to do more for them than what I was stuck with, so I'm making sure they get good grades and go to good colleges. That's why I got this job in the first place, to put some back for their college funds."

"That's real decent of you. I don't know a single woman who would go so far for their family. You'd best be proud of yourself. Where's your brother now?"

"He's working out of state in Pennsylvania. He found a good woman and has a concrete contracting business now."

"You got yourself a man?"

"Never saw the need. Someday, maybe, when I'm lonelier."

"Working here for a few years will train that loneliness for a man right outta of you."

They both laughed at that, and Rhoda felt her tensed muscles begin to relax. "I didn't catch your name."

"Jesse Lee Fitzner." He reached across the desk to grip her hand. For being such a small-built man, he had a crushing handshake.

"Rhoda Ames. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I knew a few Ameses when I was on the outside. Where your folks from?"

"Beckworth, west of here."

"Oh, you're bullshitting me. I have folks from there too. You don't know a Harry Fitzner, do you?"

"Harry who used to run the car repair shop?"

"That's him! My uncle. He retired a few years ago. His lungs got to him. Too much time in the mines."

The door slammed open again. An elderly prison guard, who had greeted her rather abruptly upon her hiring and who had a hard and wrinkled face, was standing in the doorway. When he saw Jesse, his face grew harder. "What are you doing here, inmate?"

Jesse raised his hands, still not moving from where he was leaning back on the chair. "Just dropping off a message for Nurse Judson."

"Next time, leave the message with Nurse Ames and promptly return to your cell. There's no reason for you to be here actin' so friendly."

To Rhoda's mild disappointment, the guard grabbed Jesse by his arm and yanked him out, harder than he needed to. Before he was escorted out, Jesse tossed a glance over her shoulder and winked at her. "Rhoda, you're a young lady, and I'm a bit of a spring chicken myself. I think we would get along real well outside these walls."

Rhoda couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her throat. She felt lightheaded. She was a rangy and abrupt woman with a working tan, and hadn't much experience with men flirting with her.

When Jesse was marched out, Rhoda stood up and grabbed her peaked nurse's cap, girding her loins for the next shift on the ward. While she was counting medications, the elderly guard–Miles–came in again and shut the door behind him. She flinched, expecting a dressing-down on her first day of work. I wasn't fraternizing with the prisoner, was I? Am I… am I gonna lose my job?

He sat down opposite her. "You ever hear that tale 'bout the lady and the snake?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Old story; old, old story. One of them Aesop stories they wrote when people was still in togas and carved words in stone. A woman was walking home one day when she saw a frozen snake lying on the side of the road. It begged her to save its poor little self, this little creature of God. So taking pity on it, the woman brought it home and warmed it by the fire between her breasts. And as it thawed, it bit her breast. 'Oh, why would you do such a thing? Your poison will kill me,’ she wailed. And the snake smiled and said, 'You knew I was a snake before you brought me into your house.'"

Rhoda stared at him, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"You know what that fellow did to get in here? Fitzner was top dog in a motorcycle gang outside of prison. A real nasty one. He ordered a contract killing on a rival gang member. They snatched the poor fellow when he was leaving a bar. Hung him from a tree, broke his legs with doublejack hammers, used him as target practice with their sawed-offs, cut his dick off and shoved it in his mouth, then left and let him choke on it and bleed to death for the rest of the night. He was out, too, far out in the mountains, and they only found him weeks later when a hunter stumbled on him. One of the killers snitched on Fitzner in exchange for dropping a drug felony sentence he was staring at. That snitch went into hiding and changed his name. Two days after Fitzner was taken to this good penitentiary, he was found with his head beaten in, in a dry creek bed."

Rhoda's head began to spin in slow whirls. Her hand where Jesse had shaken it grew very clammy. She remembered his bright smile across the desk, his dark eyes, and felt bile and vomit churn in her throat.

"You both were talking for a while, I noticed. He's good at prising information out of people, Fitzner is. A boyish smile and a few good words and he can make both men and women melt like butter on yer tongue. See? Now he knows who you are, and where your folks live. Now he can get to you."

Rhoda tried to talk, but her tongue was paralyzed. She looked down and wiped her sweaty hands on her knees.

Miles got up and went over to the door. He looked out of the window set on top, and his hard face relaxed. He seemed much older in that moment, more wrinkled and exhausted.

"You'd best be careful of him, Nurse Ames. He's a bad 'un. I'll be glad to see the back of him."

As it turned out, Miles retired later that year and it was Jesse who saw the back of him.

And Rhoda became very wary of him from then on. Whenever he saw her in the hall, in the chow line, in the infirmary, he smiled at her and tried to make small talk. She ignored him, or was curt with him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to take that as an invitation.

#personal #asks #writing

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Three]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally getting another update for this series! There's some domestic abuse mentioned so just remember to always heed the tags because I don't want to spoil future chapters with specific warnings! You also get a Mikey POV at the end--yes, this story will occasionally have his POV!! And I love to scream about Mikey, so always feel free to join me in screaming about him.

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestforthewickedshelby @winterschildren17 @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella2 (tagged your secondary I guess, hope that's ok!) @ms-murdockswift (I apologize if tumblr messed up tags AGAIN)

You jolted awake in bed with a gasp, your heart thrumming heavily in your chest and your thin tee-shirt clinging to your dampened skin. You were lying in a bit of cold sweat along the sheets and breathing hard, blinking rapidly as you tried to remind yourself that you’d only been dreaming. Rolling onto your side, you clutched your pillow tight and buried your face into it in search of comfort. You tried hard to shove back that nightmare which had gripped you so tight, attempting to erase the images from your mind’s eye.

You hated the mornings you woke up like this, desperately wishing the fear would just disappear. You missed just living your life. It had been so long since you’d been able to sleep without fear of a nightmare holding you under, drowning you in memories you wished to forget. It had been just as long since you’d been able to move somewhere and stay there permanently, without always having the constant need to look over your shoulder and monitor your every action to make sure you didn’t slip up.

What you were doing wasn’t living.

But you didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, either. Not if you wanted to stay alive. Because you were positive he’d kill you if he found you this time. The most you could do was find solace in the fact that you had more freedom now than you’d had back then.

With a soft sigh, you unburied your face from the pillow, reaching a hand out to your phone on the nightstand. Your heart was still steadily slowing back down to a normal pace as you tapped the screen, checking the time. It was barely seven in the morning. You figured Megan had already gone into work about thirty minutes ago now.

You set the phone back down, raising your other hand from out of the sheets and rubbing both of them over your eyes with a groan. There was no way you would manage to fall back asleep after that, you might as well wake up.

Tossing the sheets off of yourself, you sat upright in the bed and threw your legs over the side. For a moment you just sat there, silently contemplating the day. You figured you’d make a coffee downstairs, grateful that Megan hadn’t switched to being a tea drinker all of the sudden. Maybe you’d go for a walk, orient yourself around this part of Dublin a little more. You were still trying to find a decent coffee shop, one you wouldn’t mind working on your writing in some days just for a change of scenery. And for coffee that was better than the pods Megan had.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you rose to your feet and grabbed your phone from the charger. Padding along the floor you made your way over to the window, drawing back the curtain to let in the soft, gloomy morning light. From the almost week you’d been here now you’d noticed it seemed to be chilly and rainy more often than not in Dublin.

You hesitated when the curtain had been entirely pulled back though, your eyes focusing on the bedroom window directly across from yours. You weren’t used to seeing those curtains drawn back in the mornings and it took you a moment to remember last night. Michael’s somber and inquisitive eyes briefly flashed through your memory. Hand tightening around the fabric of the curtain, you remembered the way he’d found you near-panic attack. How he’d looked at you like he could see right through you to your own pain that you tried so hard to desperately hide, as if you couldn’t remotely hide it from him.

Dangerous, you told yourself. It would be dangerous if he could see right through you like that.

Swallowing hard, you pushed away from the window. You didn't want to think about any of that right now.

Making your way downstairs, you took a sharp right turn, walked a few steps down the hall, and turned right into the kitchen. You flipped on the light before you headed over to the coffee machine and turned it on. While that started up, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and found one of Megan’s travel mugs–this one purple–and pulled it down. You set it under the machine before spinning her little coffee pod carousel on the counter beside it, eyeing all the pods that sounded way too sweet for your taste. You smiled when you found a single breakfast blend and immediately popped it into the machine, waiting while your coffee brewed.

It was barely ten minutes later that you found yourself bundled in your lightweight parka with the steaming mug of coffee in your hands. You exited the house, pulling the door shut and locking it behind yourself before tossing the house key into your coat pocket. Turning, you began to make your way down the short drive, your shoes trudging over the pavement. But when you rounded the tall stone fence, you unexpectedly almost ran headfirst into someone.

“Shit!” you shouted.

A bit of hot coffee spilled out of the open lid of your mug when you’d abruptly startled backwards, the liquid burning your hands.

“Fuck, m’sorry!”

You shook your hand beside you, trying to shake off the hot coffee as you sucked in a breath from the stinging pain of it. At least the cold air felt good against your hand.

“Didn’t burn yourself, did ya?”

Glancing up at the deep accented voice, you finally realized who it was that you’d run into. Michael. He was staring back at you with his brows furrowed and his eyes creased in concern, the corners of his mouth downturned in a deep set frown. He looked so sorrowful.

Forcing a smile onto your mouth, you shook your head. “No, no I’m good. Don’t worry about it,” you assured him. “You just uh, startled me is all.”

"M'sorry," he apologized again, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. "I didn't hear ya comin'."

"It's–it's fine, really," you assured him.

"We really should stop meetin' like this, yeah?" he said, a nervous chuckle falling out of him.

Both of your hands tightened around your mug, the warmth of it heating you as you watched him. "Like what, exactly?" you asked.

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as he ducked his head, averting his eyes from you. Was he really this timid? Bashful, even? That was…unexpected.

"Awkwardly," he answered.

Quirking a brow, you eyed him curiously. "Is there a better way to literally run into someone?" you asked.

“Well I–I don’t uh,” he began, a slight grimace tightening his features as he fumbled for words. “Just sayin’ this isn’ exactly how I’d choose to meet ya again, I s’pose.”

Your brow rose even higher at his words. Had you flustered the Irish mobster fresh out of prison? What the hell did that mean?

Head tilting to the side, you couldn’t help the question that escaped your lips despite your better judgment. “And how would you choose to meet me then?” you asked.

He froze, his head still ducked down but his eyes finding you underneath his dark lashes. His mouth had fallen open at your question, his brows raising up onto his own forehead. He looked stunned that you’d so brazenly asked him that, but you didn’t remotely back down as you focused on him before you. Even though everything inside of you was screaming to end the conversation and carry on with your day, you somehow found yourself fascinated by him yet again.

“I–I s’pose I don’t know,” he muttered, pink tinging his cheeks.

You nodded, bringing your mug to your lips for a drink. After swallowing down the comforting and warm liquid, your tongue slipped out to catch the drops that had gotten onto your lips. Michael’s eyes were drawn to the movement of your tongue before you caught them flickering back up to your own.

“Well,” you began, your mind still screaming 'danger' and 'run away' as you eyed him, “I’ll let you get back to your day.”

“Right, yeah,” he said softly.

You turned and continued on your way past the fence at the exact same moment Michael had continued on his way, the pair of you falling in step beside each other unintentionally. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you bit your lip as Michael’s gaze fell on his feet. A genuine chuckle fell out of him before he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours again. For a moment you found yourself suddenly lost in them, coming to a stop on the street.

There was a lot hidden in his eyes, just under the brown and flecks of green. You found yourself losing yourself in the depth of them, drawn into whatever was lying just behind all that darkness and pain so obvious on the surface. It felt like if you stared long enough, his eyes gradually gave way to something light and gentle buried just beneath it all. As if you searched just a little deeper you’d find the man he seemed to keep locked away in there, one he didn’t let out often. It wasn’t until you heard his voice that you fell out of whatever strange trance you’d somehow briefly lost yourself in.

“I was goin’ on a walk this way,” he muttered. “Towards the shops. Been awhile since I uh, could go to them.”

Blinking hard, you tried to collect yourself. “Yeah I was–was going that way myself. Still sort of new here and all,” you said.

“D’ya–” Michael paused, a nervous little huff of laughter breaking his question as he glanced away from you. “D’ya want some company? I mean I can’t show ya around or anythin’–haven't been here in a few years and all–but I–I was already goin’ that way.”

For once it was your turn to glance away nervously, your gaze dropping down towards your coffee mug. You found yourself conflicted.

On the one hand, it was incredibly reckless to continue to let one of these Kinsellas into your life. To put yourself on their radar. The deeper in you got with them, the closer they might become to discovering you weren’t who you said you were. And you had absolutely no idea how they would react to that knowledge, even if they ever could understand the reasoning behind it. It wasn’t necessarily in your best interest to befriend one of them and risk jeopardizing your life here–in whatever way that might mean.

But on the other hand, you couldn’t deny your gut wanted you to say yes. You weren’t blind, Michael was an attractive man. And it had certainly been awhile since you’d actually been able to be physically intimate with someone–something you wouldn’t exactly bat an eye at if he ever was interested in a fling. And if you were being honest with yourself, you admittedly wanted to know more about this man and that sadness that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. You wanted to catch more glimpses of that softheartedness he seemed to keep hidden away.

But under no circumstances could you let yourself get too close to him.

“You know what? Why not,” you said after a moment, shoulder rising and falling in a shrug.

Michael’s head rose, his eyes falling on you with a faint look of surprise in them. “Yeah?” he asked.

You shrugged a shoulder again, shooting him a friendly smile. If you were going to fuck your plan to lay low up a bit, you might as well enjoy doing it.

“Yeah,” you said, continuing on walking as he fell in step beside you once again. “Maybe you’ll keep me from getting lost.”

“Well I s’pose I can manage that,” he said.

As the pair of you walked on, turning down another street and making your way out of the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but notice the small smile now residing on his mouth. Raising your cup to your lips, your arm brushing against his with how close he was beside you, you drank down more of your coffee. Momentarily your eyes closed, reveling in the drink. It wasn’t the same as what you usually drank at the coffee shops you’d discovered over the years, but it was coffee, and right now that was enough.

“So why’re ya up so early?” Michael eventually asked, breaking the silence.

You swallowed down your drink, your eyes opening and focusing on where you were going as you spoke. “I couldn’t sleep. So I decided to just get up,” you admitted. “You?”

“Same,” he replied, turning to look at you. “Why couldn’t ya sleep?”

Your head spun towards him, shooting him a pointed look as you raised a brow. “Why couldn’t you sleep, Mr. Kinsella?”

His mouth curved into a grin, the brightness reaching his eyes. “I can’t tell ya that now can I?”

The corner of your own mouth tugged up into a sarcastic grin in response. “Then I suppose you understand why I can’t tell you that, either,” you quipped.

He laughed lightly and your smile grew at the transformation you saw overtake his features. He looked vastly lighter than you’d yet to see him. Like a heavy weight had briefly been lifted from his shoulders. If you’d thought he’d looked attractive before, all dark and brooding, he was certainly handsome with his eyes crinkled at the corners and a dimple barely visible just beneath his dark beard.

“Ahh, a woman of mystery, yeah?” he teased.

Your eyes instantly darted away towards your feet, the smile faltering on your lips. Clearing your throat quickly, you forced a shrug that seemed indifferent. “I wouldn’t say that,” you said, trying hard to keep your voice even.

“Well, I’m sure by now ya already know ‘bout me,” he said, his tone suddenly softer.

“I don’t, actually,” you told him.

The pair of you turned another corner, a handful of shops and restaurants coming into view. You’d come this way yesterday and gotten acquainted with a few places in the area, but today you were hoping to find a coffee shop to maybe try out tomorrow morning when you inevitably couldn’t sleep again.

“No?” he asked curiously.

“I told you,” you began, taking in the sight of his surprised face yet again beside you, “I just moved here a few days ago.”

“So ya don’t know anythin’?” he pressed.

Sighing, your fingers drummed against the coffee mug in your hands. You needed to tread carefully here. He probably wouldn’t be too thrilled if you straight up called him out on being part of an Irish mob that sold drugs. Granted, that was about the extent of your knowledge because you’d intentionally not gone digging into the Kinsellas.

“I know you just came back from prison yesterday,” you confessed. “My sister chats with Birdy, apparently. But that’s about all I know besides your name.”

“And ya still…decided to come on this walk with me? Knowin’ that?” he asked curiously.

“Figured you wouldn’t hurt me in public at least,” you joked, glancing back at him.

Something flickered behind his eyes so quickly you almost didn’t catch it before he laughed lightly and looked away. But you’d certainly caught it. Sorrow and regret.

So he’s hurt people, maybe more than that. That really shouldn’t come as a shock, but somehow it did. The man beside you right now seemed far too gentle for that. You’d figured his sentence was related to the drug dealing and money laundering you expected his family did, but now you wondered how injudicious your joke had actually been. It's not like you knew the reasoning for his actions.

“I’m sorry, that was a poor joke,” you apologized.

“I was tellin’ the truth last night,” he muttered as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark brown jacket. “I’m not goin’ to hurt ya.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

His head turned towards you, his brows furrowing. “Ya don’t believe me?” he asked, hurt evident in his tone.

“No, no it’s not necessarily that it’s just–” you stopped short, your lips still parted as you tried to think of a way to explain yourself.

His hazel eyes were boring into you as both of you slowed on the sidewalk. It felt like he was looking right through you again, just like he’d done last night at the window. As if he was seeing through every wall you’d ever constructed to keep everyone out. It was unsettling and your heart began to rapidly pound in your chest under the weight of his scrutiny.

“You’ve been hurt before, yeah?” he asked gently.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling to find the words to tell him he was wrong, to keep him from further seeing through you like this, but nothing was coming out. Abruptly you came to a stop, ready to turn and bolt. How had he seen that so easily?

“Hey, ’s’alright,” he murmured as he stopped beside you.

But it wasn't alright. Because his voice was in your damn head again, as if he was right there hissing his venomous words into your ear like the snake he is. You flinched, eyes closing instantly.

"How about I slice you open for each time you've tried to run?"

Teeth snapping together and jaw clenching shut, your fingers gripped the mug between your hands until they ached. A sharp exhale blew from your nose as you took a shaky step back, your eyes still firmly closed.

“Grace?” Michael’s hesitant voice rang out. “Ya okay?”

You could see the knife so clearly in your mind again as your body trembled on the sidewalk. It was like you were there again, right in front of him. You could see the intimidating way he so effortlessly tossed the black handle of the blade back and forth between his hands, his eyes honed in on you like you were a wounded animal he’d finally cornered.

“I’m always going to find you,” he growled. “Because you’re mine , you hear me? There isn’t anywhere you can run from me here, girl. And each time you try,” he continued, extending the knife in his hand towards your stomach, “I’m going to add another cut. But if you piss me off enough?” He leaned in towards you, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl as he raised the knife, the blade grazing the skin of your neck. “I’ll take your pretty little fucking head.”

“Grace!”

Your eyes flew open, Michael’s face just inches from yours. His hands were firmly gripping your shoulders, fingers digging in past your jacket. His eyes were full of fear and worry as they jumped back and forth between your own, searching for something.

“Fuckin’ hell, ya alright?” Michael asked.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head, trying to force back the memory. Your breath was coming in hard and fast, your knees shaking beneath you. How had Michael made you come undone like that? How the hell could he see you more clearly than everyone else? You didn’t like it, whatever it was. It made you uncomfortable.

Taking a firm step back from him, Michael’s hands released your shoulders, his hands hovering in the air between you both. His expression fell at the noticeable distance you’d just placed between the pair of you.

“I–I should go,” you stuttered out, gesturing a thumb behind you. “This–this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Grace, wait,” Michael said, taking a step closer.

Instinctively you took another step back, forcing a tight smile onto your lips as you willed them to stop trembling. “Enjoy your walk, Michael,” you said quickly.

You turned, swiftly walking back down the sidewalk in the direction you’d just come with your head ducked low into your jacket and your mug clutched to your chest. Tears were stinging at your eyes as you tried to shove that memory into the far back corners of your mind. You’d find a coffee shop another day.

Mikey was stretched out along his sofa with a book in his lap, though it had been open to the same page for a while now. He’d barely been able to focus on it, his mind kept wandering back to when he’d seen Anna pass by the restaurant near her school earlier today, the one he'd sat at to hopefully catch a glimpse of her.

And he had. She’d looked so grown since last he’d seen her; less like a child and more like the young woman she was fast becoming. It had taken everything inside of him to remain sitting in that booth and not go bolting out of the door just to say hello to her. He’d missed her so much and had missed out on so much of her life. It physically pained him how much he'd missed.

But he was going to do his best to stay straight and get the courts to let him have a relationship with his daughter now that he was out. He would do whatever he could in his power to make that happen. He needed to be in her life, in whatever capacity he could. Nothing else was more important to him.

A knock at Michael's front door caught his attention, breaking through his thoughts.

His eyes rose from his book, glancing down the hall to his front door. His brows drew together as he wondered who it would be stopping by his place tonight. Jimmy, maybe?

With a sigh he closed his book, tossing it onto the coffee table before he rose to his feet. He made his way out of the sitting room and down the hall past his kitchen. He could see the unmistakable silhouette of Birdy through the dark glass of his front door as he reached it. The second he opened the door he was met with her bright smile.

"Good evenin', pet," she greeted him warmly. "Ya mind if I come in? Brought ya some food."

Michael's eyes dropped down to the covered dish she was carrying in both of her hands. He couldn't fight the small smile on his mouth as he stepped aside and invited her in. Birdy had always been like a mother to him, always looking out for him and his brother. Apparently that hadn't changed.

"Thank ya, Birdy," he told her as she headed straight for the refrigerator in the kitchen, "but ya didn’t have to do that."

"I had to make sure ya had something home-cooked after all that time ya were away, dear," she called back. "And I'll see about getting ya some more things."

"Ya don't need to do that," Michael told her as he made his way back to the sitting room and over to the sofa. "I don't want to make extra work for ya."

"It's no trouble at all, pet," Birdy told him, making her way down the hallway towards him. "'S'what family does for each other." She paused in the doorway of the sitting room, shooting Michael a smile. "Missed havin' ya around, Mikey. We all have. All of us were just waitin' for ya to get out."

Michael smiled, nodding in response. He had certainly missed everyone as well–though most of all he’d missed Anna.

Birdy adjusted the jacket she was wearing, the smile never faltering on her face. "Was especially hard on Frank," she continued. "And your brother. It was tough on them without ya. Carryin' the load all on their own. I mean Eric is–is a good boy," she told him, her eyes softening as she gazed back at him, a small shrug pulling up her shoulders. "But he's not you."

Michael's smile lessened a little. He knew what Birdy was getting at–Frank wanted him back and working for them again. But he wouldn't do that. Not this time. He needed a proper job so he had a chance to actually see his daughter again. He wouldn't be swayed.

"But you're back now," Birdy said, pushing off the wall and making her way towards Michael. "That's the important thing."

"Yeah," Michael agreed, nodding lightly.

Closing the distance between them, Birdy gently grasped his face in her hands before leaning down towards him on the sofa, planting a light kiss to the top of his head. Michael’s eyes momentarily closed at the bit of affection despite being all too aware of her ulterior motives for this visit.

"Ya understand what I'm sayin," she continued, pulling away from him, her hands still cupping his cheeks. "I know ya do. You're not like your mother. You're a Kinsella. And we stick together." Something caught her eye out of the back door, her attention lingering on it as she spoke. "Always."

When her hands fell from his face, Michael glanced out behind him towards what had caught Birdy's focus. It was you, pacing around the back garden on your phone with a glass of wine in one hand. You looked upset as you spoke, the light from the back of your half-sister’s house shining just enough for him to see your expression.

“Interestin’ one, that one is,” Birdy said softly.

Michael’s brows instantly drew together at her tone, a crease forming between them. He recognized that tone–it meant you’d done something to draw Birdy’s attention. She thought there was something off about you. Something that warranted looking into.

For some reason that made Michael uncomfortable.

She wasn’t wrong though, you were interesting. Especially after the encounter he’d had with you today. You’d panicked at the mention of having been hurt before, practically shutting down and almost falling into a panic attack right there on the footpath. Clearly, you had a past. One that must’ve been fairly dark to make you react like that. He’d noticed it almost instantly, just from looking at your face, because he saw that same haunted expression reflecting back at him in the mirror every damn day.

“Why do ya say that, Birdy?” he asked curiously, looking over at her.

“She’s not like her sister,” Birdy answered slowly, her eyes still tracking your movements around the garden. “There’s somethin’ more to her, I can just feel it.” Her attention shifted towards Michael, one of her brows raising up onto her forehead. “What’s your take on her, pet? I saw ya with her this mornin’.”

Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. The smile only grew further on Birdy’s mouth, a knowing look crossing her face.

“Ya sweet on her, Mikey?” she asked, her eyes briefly flickering outside to you before returning back to him. “I don’t blame ya, she’s cute. Certainly an interestin’ young thing, yeah?” Birdy’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. “What’s her story, pet?”

“Don’t know,” Michael answered honestly. “She only just moved here from the States. Lives with her sister. I know ‘bout as much as ya.”

“Yeah?” Birdy asked, eyeing Michael closely. “I notice ya didn’t answer my other question. Ya sweet on the girl?”

Heat crept over Michael’s cheeks, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as his gaze dropped down towards his hands. “Like I said,” he answered, his voice a lot quieter than before, “I don’t really know her.”

Birdy hummed out a noise, the sound catching Michael’s attention. She was staring back at him with that knowing look on her face again. Michael swallowed hard, his hands nervously fidgeting in his lap as his cheeks only heated a little further.

“Just be careful, love,” Birdy told him, zipping her jacket up. “And don’t go sharin’ the family secrets.”

Michael huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Ya know I wouldn’, Birdy.”

“Well if ya find out what’s off ‘bout the girl, ya come tellin’ me,” she said, a firm look on her face. “Ya hear me, Michael? We gotta look out for the family.”

“Yeah, I hear ya, Birdy,” he answered. “But I think you’re off on this one.”

Birdy playfully pointed a finger at his chest as she said, “My gut’s never been wrong before, pet.”

Michael swallowed hard, running a hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. He didn’t know how to respond because Birdy generally did have a knack for reading people, and he had noticed something off about you himself. But he’d also thought you’d seemed…sweet.

“Make sure ya eat somethin’,” Birdy said, gesturing a hand behind her towards the kitchen. “Don’t want ya becomin’ skin and bone on us. And Frank said to speak with Amanda at the dealership tomorrow for work.”

“Thank ya,” he answered quickly.

“Don’t thank me, pet,” Birdy said, turning and making her way out of the sitting room. “Ya know where I think ya belong. G’night, Mikey.”

“G’night, Birdy,” he called out.

It was a moment before Birdy exited, closing the door softly behind herself on the way out. Michael rose to his feet from the sofa, about to head over and lock the door behind her, but then he glanced out his back door and spotted you.

You were still out there, pacing the back garden on the phone. Except now you’d lost the glass of wine, your hand running roughly through your hair. You were very obviously stressed about whatever that phone call was about. He found himself contemplating stepping outside when you got off the phone. Maybe he could find a way to apologize for upsetting you this morning.

But no, he told himself, breaking his gaze from you, he’d only upset you further. He was sure of it. More than likely he’d make an ass of himself with how awkward he was, and you seemed rather private yourself–not that he didn’t relate. It wouldn’t be a good idea.

Though as he made his way down the hall to his front door, clicking the lock into place, he found himself hoping for another stolen moment with you. He was strangely craving the sound of your voice already and wondering what it would sound like to hear you laugh. To see a genuine smile light up your face.

Michael paused as he turned away from the front door, surprised by his own thoughts. Was Birdy right, then? Was he sweet on you?

#michael kinsella x female reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella angst #kin amc

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a-otter-appears · 2 years

Text

What Your Favorite Undertale Song Says About You!

(All this is done for fun and laughs! So don't take anything said too serious.)

(DELTARUNE CHAPTER 1 LINK)

Once Upon a Time: You love diving into new stories, fantasy is escape from your life. (Also see: Home, Snowdin, Hotel, Fallen Down (Reprise), Hopes and Dreams)

Your Best Friend: It's okay I hate dealing with most people too!! (Also see: Your Best Nightmare)

Fallen Down: You yearn back to the time of your life when you were happy, careless, and free. You're pretty nostalgic about most things.

Ruins: Pretty tired eh? You're kind of a wanderer these days. (Also see: Waterfall, Don't Give Up, An Ending)

Uwa!! So Temperate: You are delighted by the simple things in life. :)

Enemy Approaching: I see you Pokemon fan. (Also see: Dogsong, Temmie Village, Tem shop, Stronger Monsters, Amalgram)

Ghost Fight: You just really need a break. (Also see: Dummy!)

Determination: Overthinker. (Also see: Asgore)

Home / Home (Music Box): You're either pretty homesick, or just wish to have as loving and safe a place as Toriel's. (Also see: Once Upon a Time)

Heartache: You're stressed for yourself, your friends, and pretty much everyone's future.

sans. : I don't know how you still manage to have any sort of energy after all these years.

Nyeh Heh Heh! / Bonetrousle: Very obsessive about your favorite things.

Snowy: Winter REALLY is your season, you enjoy staying inside and working on many projects through the winter. (Also see: Snowdin)

Uwa!! So Holiday: You carry your own special magic. :)

Dogsong: ... Get away from me /j, you're pretty goofy and funny. (Also see: Enemy Approaching, Temmie Village, Tem Shop)

Snowdin Town / Shop: Like Snowy, just with less seasonal depression, more friendly, and a lot more love for the holidays. (Also see: Snowy, Once Upon a Time, Reunited)

Dating Start!: Bubbly and fun! You're a wannabe online influencer. (Also see: Snowdin, Dating Tense)

Dating Tense!: You need to stop looking so deeply into things, they don't hate you. (Also see: Dating start! Spear of Justice)

Dating Fight!: You're late to everything.

Undyne: You scare me, if I saw you walking down the street I would back away.

Waterfall / Quiet Water: You have such wonderful thoughts and ideas, you just need to give yourself the push to actually work on them. Go get some rest. (Also see: Ruins, Another Medium)

Memory: You have given yourself to others without them returning the favor to many times. (Also see: His Theme)

Dummy!: You are sick and tired of EVERYTHING. You will fight your way through this life if it means you don't have to be treated like trash anymore. (Also see: Ghost Fight)

Pathetic House: Your room is VERY bare. Please put something up, even if it's a sticky note. (Also see: Ghost Fight, Spider Dance)

Spooktune / Spookwave / Ghouliday: You're the kid who people think listens to "edgy" and "dark" songs on their headphones. But really, you jam out to the most weird things. (Also see: Metal Crusher)

Chill: You can barely keep your eyes open, you're very sleepy.

Thundersnail: 1# weird dancer.

Temmie Village: Very hyperactive! Please take a moment to breath! (Also see: Dogsong, Tem Shop)

Tem Shop: LOUD (Also see: Dogsong, Temmie Village)

NGAHHH!! / Spear of Justice: Sweet Jesus you scare me with those anger problems. You say you could take on anyone in a fight, but you would lose everytime, or actually WIN everytime. (Also see: Undyne, Asgore)

Alphys: Nervous and unsure, you have no idea what you're doing most of the time, but you just... go with it anyway. (Also see: Amalgram, Here We Are)

It's Showtime!: You show your love by annoying people to death. (Also see: Live Report, Death by Glamour)

Metal Crusher: How the hell do you get your work done so fast?!? You type at the speed of light. So focused... (Also see: Spooktune, Death by Glamour)

Another Medium: Imaginative and hardworking, you probably take long walks while listening to music. (Also see: Waterfall, CORE)

Uwa!! So HEATS!!?: You get sick a lot.

Stronger Monsters: You look all put together and calm, but you get so easily offended when someone doesn't agree with your opinion. (Also see: Enemy Approaching)

Hotel / Can You Really Call This a Hotel I Didn't Receive a Mint on my Pillow or Anything: You LOVE having the house to yourself, being alone is when you can get the most done. Or you just enjoy being able to relax alone. (Also see: Once Upon a Time)

Live Report / Death Report: Stressed VERY easily. But you hide it behind a smile. (Also see: It's Showtime!)

Spider Dance: You are MISCHIEVOUS, you love to mess around with people, scare them, whatever! (Also see: Dummy!)

Wrong Enemy: No sense of direction, you barely know your left and right.

Oh! One True Love! / Oh! Dungeon: T h e a t e r k i d, you also might sing ballads in public bathrooms just for the acoustics.

It's Raining Somewhere Else: Philosophical, you might be seen working/studying at the local cafe/library, or overthinking/napping in your room. You should really get a real night of sleep instead of powering through with 2 hour naps and coffee. (Also see: sans.)

CORE: I get the feeling you had an intense space phase as a kid. Kind of nerdy, you don't stop until you get the answer to whatever you're looking for. (Also see: Another Medium)

Death by Glamour: THE BADDEST BITCH IS HERE! You're truly here for a fun time, not a long time. You have this unique charm that just makes people want to be by you. Some may think you're annoying, but you grew enough skin not to care about that anymore. (Also see: CORE, Another Medium, It's Showtime!)

For the Fans: Due to terrible/unexpected life events, you had to step away from what you love, you really want to go back to when you were better. (Also see: Oh! One True Love)

Undertale: Oh boy... I can tell you lost someone dear in your life; whether it was by growing apart, or death. You hold on tight and dear for the time you had with them, wishing you spent more time together. But you also remember, (and hopefully smile) that you got to know this person at all. You still carry on through life, the memories, with a tear in your heart. (Also see: Once Upon a Time, Hopes and Dreams, His Theme)

Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans: You're a jokester. (Also see: Sans, Bonetrousle)

Bergentrückung / Asgore: You deeply regret the actions/words you caused/said. You find no mercy in forgiving yourself. And well I'm not the one to say if what happened is worth being forgiven... maybe you'll find peace one day. (Also see: Heartache, Determination, Spear of Justice)

Your Best Nightmare: Who even are you???? I think if you were a drink, you would be a green Monster. (Also see: Your Best Friend)

Finale: Truly the only and best word to describe you is determined. (Also see: Your Best Nightmare, Your Best Friend, His Theme)

An Ending: Very, veeeeeery close to just quitting whatever it is you do. (Also see: Ruins)

Here We Are: Anytime you get out of your room, your parents will always make comments about it, leaving you to quickly hide away again.

Amalgam: You like experimenting. I won't say with what. (Also see: Enemy approaching, Here We Are)

Fallen Down (Reprise): Despite yearning back, you march forward, not staying stuck in the past or thinking of the future, you stay exactly where you are, in the moment. (Also see: Fallen Down, Once Upon a Time, Hopes and Dreams)

Don't Give Up: Maybe on the outside you look like a walking corpse. But on the inside? You still try to hold on, no matter what, cause you believe it WILL get better soon. (Also see: Ruins, An Ending)

Hopes and Dreams / SAVE The World / Last Goodbye: you... YOU! You are a light in the dark, the warmth in the snow. You try to make people's lives, and this world's better. Even if you don't like most people, even if you give more than you should. You hold on, dream, and work for a better future, a better life, for everyone. (Also see: Undertale, Your Best Friend, Once Upon a Time, Snowdin)

His Theme: You cry a lot (not in a bad way!) Your emotions guide you more than your mind. You look back and ask yourself if you have done enough. (Also see: Memory, Undertale, Reunited)

Reunited: People make fun of you for believing every story has a happy ending. But you don't mind. You hold on deary to the people who made your life better, who stuck through it all. You know even in the happiest times there's saddest, and in the saddest, there's joy. (Also see: Once Upon a Time, Hopes and Dreams, His theme)

Respite: You made it, through the worst days/weeks/months of your life, you pulled through, and are still standing. (Also see: Ruins)

Bring it in, Guys!: You couldn't pick just ONE song.

Battle Against a True Hero: the MAIN character, you would throw yourself in any danger to protect those you love. You'll defend until your last breath. (Also see: Ruins)

Power of -NEO-: You're still mad Mettaton NEO didn't get a actual fight. Please let it go.

Megalovania: *sighhhhhh* But actually, you're pretty intimidating. Maybe it's because of how loud you are, or the tense energy you radiate. I wouldn't want to get in your way...

BONUSES:

Mad Mew Mew: Cute and bitter! People think they can walk over you, but quickly learn that they SHOULDN'T at all. (Also see: Dummy! Spider Dance)

Gaster's Theme: PUT THAT GODDAMN THEORY DOWN

#undertale #undertale music #sans #flowey #papyrus #utdr #undertale/deltarune #toriel #frisk #asgore #undyne #napstablook #mettaton #alphys #asriel #Formatting this post was kind of a nightmare at some times...#hopefully the deltarune one won't be as much of a demon!#undertale pacifist #undertale genocide

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