#but nonetheless he would love it........... he would need it...........

[pedroscurls]

love at last (one-shot)

summary: harry’s never been in love before… until he meets you, which awakens a part of him that he never thought he was capable of.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): minor spoilers so please beware!, love at first sight trope, harry is charming and completely smitten, mainly harry POV, harry + reader go on dates!, no use of y/n. word count: 4.6k a/n: i just finished watching materialists and i'm OBSESSED with harry so obviously the next best thing is to write for him. please heed the warnings, there will be a few spoilers mentioned in this story!!! hope you enjoy nonetheless bc i'm gonna be dreaming about harry for a long time (look at those CURLS in that second pic tho jfc 🥵)

Harry had given up on the idea of love. He hadn’t felt it before and he felt like life was just passing him by. Was something wrong with him? Was he just not capable of falling in love—being in love? 

Lucy was a good match for him, but it felt forced. There was a mutual attraction, but something had been missing and he wasn’t sure what it was. 

Not until she said that she didn’t love him. Harry realized at that moment that he didn’t love her either. Lucy said it was supposed to be easy, but he wasn’t sure anymore. He tried Adore’s services, but the matches didn’t feel real, didn’t feel authentic. These women just wanted him for his money, his height, his job. He checked a lot of the women’s boxes—he was a unicorn, which Lucy liked to put it. 

But it never felt easy. He looked at each woman from a business standpoint, something transactional, but Harry yearned for something more. 

Something deep. 

Something real.

So, he canceled his membership and decided that maybe love was just never going to be in the cards for him. 

And maybe that he didn’t need it anyway. 

The dating scene in New York was horrific. To you, it felt like every nice man in the world didn’t exist. All the dates you had been on ended terribly—with some even ending early. 

The men were either too judgmental or too self-centered, or worse—just wanted one thing and one thing only. Was it this hard to find someone nice? You thought maybe you had been too picky, so you lessened your expectations—that didn’t work either. 

So, you decided to stop dating altogether and instead put your focus into work. If the universe wanted you to be in love, then maybe you should just be patient and let life do its own work. 

Harry had felt instant attraction before, but the first time he laid eyes on you it felt like time stood still. You were laughing at something someone said and he felt a flutter at the pit of his stomach. He’s never seen you at any of his family’s parties before, he would have remembered you. 

He ordered a drink at the bar as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Your smile was so warm, so kind, so genuine. He normally has this natural confidence in him, but when he saw you walking towards the bar, he straightened up and felt his heart race faster. 

Maybe you were a friend of his sister-in-law, he wasn’t sure. His family’s parties were usually so big that he doesn’t remember who’s who. But he knew that he was definitely going to remember you. 

The party was for his brother and his wife—a baby shower and gender reveal. A year after their wedding and they’re already expecting. 

He felt you stand next to him and then he heard your voice, which only made him even more nervous because you sounded so sweet, so nice. Harry had taken a deep breath and then finally turned his body to face yours, but when your eyes met his own, he felt his stomach do flips. 

“Hi,” you said with a small smile. 

“Hi,” he replied with one of his own. 

“Friend of the family?” you asked. 

Harry shook his head. “Older brother.” 

You widened your eyes and reached out to rest a hand over his forearm—a natural reaction from you. “Oh my god, you’re Harry.” 

Harry looked down at your hand briefly and smiled, nodding in your direction. “That’d be me. Are you friends with my brother or…” 

“I’m friends with Charlotte,” you answered, dropping your hand from his forearm. “I was teaching English abroad so I couldn’t make it to her wedding. I’m just glad I could make it for this event.” 

“Where did you teach?” Harry asked. 

“Philippines,” you smiled brightly. “It was amazing. I loved it there.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile too. You made him feel comfortable, despite the nerves he was feeling before you walked over. “And now? Are you going back there to teach?” 

You shook your head. “It was only a two year contract. I have my certification now to teach English to non-native English speakers here in the States, so New York is home for now.” 

Harry could hear the passion for your work in your voice and the way your entire face lit up. It was refreshing—talking to someone who actually enjoyed what they did for a living. “So you’re teaching at a school? Elementary?” 

You let out a quiet laugh and shook your head again. “As much as I loved teaching younger kids when I was in the Philippines, my focus now is teaching adult learners. I work at a local community college.” 

Harry smiled to himself. He heard the bartender set your glass of wine next to you and you turned away from him to thank the other man from behind the counter. The same genuine and kind smile lining your lips. 

“You sound like you love your job,” he said. 

“Oh, I do. It’s a lot of work, but it’s so rewarding. I try to tell my students that learning English shouldn’t ever replace their native tongue,” you continued. “That their native language is something to be proud of and that just because they’re learning English doesn’t mean it replaces the language they know and grew up with.” 

“You must be an amazing teacher,” he grinned. 

“I try to be,” you laughed quietly. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you took note of just how handsome he is. You had heard about Harry from your dinners with Charlotte, but she didn’t say how extremely handsome he was or how deep his brown eyes were. 

“And I’m just in private equity,” he sighed teasingly. 

“Well, at least you’re rich,” you laughed quietly. “I bet that’s nice.” 

Harry shrugged. He wondered if this is where the conversation will shift, if the genuine authenticity he felt from you will disappear. “It’s a family business.” 

“Oh, so it’s not what you would have wanted to do?” You asked, taking a sip from your glass. You lean against the counter of the bar and stare up at him. “If it isn’t, what would you have wanted to pursue?” 

Harry tilted his head as he brought his own glass to his lips. He stared at you from the rim of his glass and then dropped his eyes momentarily to look down at his feet. “Not sure. I haven’t really had the chance to even think of what I would want to do if I wasn’t in the family business.” 

“Hm,” you said, eyes looking up at him from top to bottom. “Maybe a model?” 

He grinned. “Are you hitting on me?” 

“And if I am?” you smiled, eyes staring deeply into his own. 

Harry’s brows slightly raised at your forwardness and he glanced off to the side when he heard his name being called. Then, he looked at you and shot you an apologetic look. “Could I get your name?” 

You smiled and shrugged. “Find me later if you really want to find out, Harry.” You turned on your heel and left him at the counter of the bar when the other guests approached Harry. You glanced over your shoulder to see his eyes staring directly at you as he nodded at whatever the other person is saying. 

You and Harry kept stealing glances at each other from across the room. You could see the way his eyes lingered along your frame and you’re already three drinks in and feeling very brave. 

When Charlotte and Peter found out they’re having a boy, the music only became louder and everyone began dancing. Harry’s eyes stayed focused on you as he walked through the crowd straight to you. He sat next to you and smiled to himself, tilting his head in your direction. 

“Will you tell me your name now?” Harry asked.

You smiled and nodded, telling him your name as you turned your body to face his. You drape one of your legs over the other as you set aside your finished glass of wine. 

Harry smiled. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he nodded.  “Now, would you like to dance?” 

“Oh, I don’t—” 

Harry interrupted you by standing up. He extended a hand out for you and maintained that charming smile. “If I say please, will you reconsider?” 

You bit your lower lip and shook your head, slipping your hand into his own. He helped you to your feet and then led you onto the dance floor. One of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he kept a tight hold on your hand. You bit your lower lip and moved your free hand to rest on his shoulder. 

Being this close to him was intoxicating—feeling his broad chest remain flush against your own, his deep brown eyes staring directly at you as if you were the only person in the room, and god he smelled so good. You inhaled quietly and let your eyes fall shut, allowing him to lead you through the slow dance. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” he whispered into your ear. 

You pulled back and opened your eyes to look at him. He’s still fucking smiling. 

“Are you asking me out, Harry?” 

“Would that be a bad thing?” 

You stared into his eyes as you both sway side to side to the song. You had sworn off dating after so many failed dates, but Harry… Well, there was something about him that piqued your interest from the moment you laid eyes on him today. 

“Well, no, but—”

His smile dropped and his eyes softened. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask if you were seeing anyone.” 

You could feel his hold around you loosen, but you tightened your grip around his hand and pulled him back flush against you. “I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Oh,” he nodded slowly. “Okay, great. That’s—That’s great for me,” he chuckles quietly. 

“But I kind of sworn off dating… at least for a while,” you admitted. “Lots of bad dates and I just—”

Harry spun you around and pulled you back into his chest, holding you tighter now. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he whispered. “Do whatever you want to do… and if after that date you decide you want to officially swear off dating, then I’ll go my own way and you’ll go yours.” 

“You’re charming, you know that?” You smiled, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Harry shrugged, though a large grin lined his lips. “So, is that a yes?” 

“Okay, one date.” 

“One date is all I need,” he smiled, kissing your cheek and holding you firmly against him as he continued to dance with you. 

On your first date with Harry, he had taken you to one the finest restaurants in New York. It had taken you by surprise and you felt very out of your element. You weren’t used to dates like this. He was very chivalrous—he showed up with flowers, opened doors for you, pulled out your seat, and even offered his coat when he noticed you were getting cold. 

And the conversation came easy. He made you laugh and you made him blush. How could someone like him be single? When he reached for your hand during the walk around the park, you looked up at him and found him smiling in your direction. 

He didn’t kiss you on the lips when he brought you back home. Harry had just cupped your cheek, whispered that he had a great time, and kissed your forehead. It was the simplest gesture, nothing too grand or over the top, but you felt your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

Then, you asked him out for a second date. He was grinning—dimples deep in his cheek as his hand dropped from your cheek to wrap around your waist. His strong embrace filled you with so much warmth, so much anticipation because for some strange reason, it felt like you belonged there. In his arms. 

He insisted that he take you out to one of his favorite restaurants and you agreed with a smile. Harry kissed your cheek that same night before walking back to his car. He waited until you were inside before driving away. 

On the second date, Harry wanted to surprise you. He took you to a sushi restaurant—something more casual, but still romantic nonetheless. He rented out the entire small restaurant just for the both of you. The look of surprise on his face made him feel proud, more confident that maybe you wanted to date him more exclusively. 

Harry enjoyed spending time with you and how you had always given him your sole attention and focus. It even brought a smile to his face at just how kind you were to everyone you encountered. During the date, you were intrigued and interested in how the head sushi chefs were making the food. 

It was such an intimate setting and it felt easy. Harry had to wonder if this was what Lucy said a year ago—love should be easy. With the right person, love can be the easiest thing in the world. 

Throughout the date, you were becoming more touchy. A hand on his forearm or leaning against him as you let out a laugh that wracked your entire body. Even after the date when you both were walking around the same park again, he had taken your hand and you laced your fingers with his. Then, he felt your head rest against his shoulder and it made the flutter in his stomach more noticeable. 

When he dropped you off at your front door, you had stared up at him with your big eyes and he wanted nothing more than to pull you into him and press his lips against yours. 

But Harry didn’t. He wanted to respect you and your boundaries. You were playing with the lapel of his jacket before gripping it and pulling him against you. Harry’s hands had darted out to rest on your hips—to steady you, to ground himself. 

“Are you gonna ask to kiss me, Harry?” you had whispered. 

Harry’s lips parted as he stared into your eyes. The grip on the hips tightened and he gave you a single nod. He had taken a step forward, eyes completely dark and filled with desire. “Just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” 

You smiled and moved your hands to play with the hair at his nape, the curls at the back of his head. You leaned in—just enough for the tip of your nose to brush against his. Harry inhaled sharply. 

“If you don’t kiss me now, Harry, I’m gonna think you don’t like me.” 

Harry tilted his head and leaned forward, nudging your nose with his own. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He moved one of his hands to your cheek and leaned in to press his lips firmly against your own. He remembered how soft and warm your lips were, the sound of a quiet whimper escaping you, and the way his heart was racing. Harry hadn’t felt like this before—how even when he wasn’t around you, all he could do was think about you, or how the butterflies in the pit of his stomach fluttered whenever he saw your name flash across his phone. 

It also made him feel special whenever you were together. You were kind and generous to strangers, but he always felt like the luckiest person whenever your attention was shifted to him. This was only the second date and Harry found himself wanting this to be more exclusive as the date continued. 

The kiss lasted only a few more seconds—the both of you getting carried away before you pulled away from him. Harry remembered the look on your face. The small smile that lined your lips, the way your arms had loosely wrapped around his shoulders, your eyes gazing repeatedly down to his lips like you wanted more. Needed more. 

“Where do you want to go for our third date?” he asked, whispering quietly as he brushed his lips with yours.

“How about I plan it?” you replied, pursing your lips to capture his own in a gentle kiss. 

“Yeah?” Harry asked, dropping his hand from your cheek to join his other at your lower back. He laced his fingers and pulled you flush against him, the feeling of your body heat radiating against his own awakening something deep inside of him. Yearning. Desire. Need. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Let me take you out this time.” 

Harry smiled. He had always been the one to plan the dates, to cater to the other person that he was slightly taken aback at your offer. It made him feel giddy, excited at the possibility of what you would plan. “Okay,” he answered. “I’ll let you take me out this time.” 

“Good,” you smiled and pecked his lips. “I’ll see you then?”

Harry nodded, but pulled you back into a deep kiss. This time—it was intense, more intimate, urgent. His lips moved with your own and his hands drifted lower until the tips of his fingers rested just above your ass. He wanted to reach down and squeeze, but he didn’t. Not yet, he told himself. Not yet. 

“I’ll see you then, baby.”

On the third date, you had told him to dress casually. He called you just before he was about to pick you up, asking just how casual he was supposed to dress. You had smiled to yourself and told him casual enough to the point where he wouldn’t care if his clothes would get wrinkled. 

So, when he picked you up—dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with sneakers, you practically wanted to pull him back into your apartment. The date could wait a little longer. You loved seeing him in a suit—had gotten used to seeing him dressed so formally—but seeing him like this, so relaxed and casual just made him sexier. 

“This casual enough?” he asked, presenting you with another bouquet of flowers. 

“You look hot,” you complimented and leaned in to peck his lips. He smiled when you pulled away and then took your hand to lead you outside of your apartment. 

“So…” you told him. “We’re having a picnic.”

Harry grinned and pulled you close to him. You hadn’t yet closed the door to your apartment, but he leaned in and pressed his lips eagerly against your own. Without hesitation, he had moved his lips with yours, hand moving to rest on your hip. “A picnic sounds nice.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but he certainly didn’t expect to be lying on a large blanket with you next to him. You both were looking up at the clear, blue sky talking about something so random. He felt his heart skip a beat when he heard you laugh—it filled his senses until all he could hear was you and how happy you looked. He wondered if this was what other couples felt like, if this is what they would normally do—have a picnic in the park, eat some food, then lie down in each other’s arms just embracing each other’s company. 

When your laughter died down, Harry had moved to rest his hand on your cheek. You stared up at him, the smile still remaining on your lips. He felt like he could sense what you were thinking about, communicating with you through his eyes. 

His thumb had brushed against your lower lip and he leans in, pecking your lips lightly. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry whispered. He felt the nerves begin to build and looked away from you for a moment. It wasn’t until you replied with a soft and quiet yes that he looked back at you.

“Would you want to date more exclusively? More seriously?” he asked in a rush. Harry’s eyes softened and the smile on your lips never faltered. 

“I’d like that,” you answered instantly. “I’d like that a lot actually.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” you repeated. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief and leaned in to press his lips against yours again. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you lay on your back with him propping himself on his side to kiss you. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders—he couldn’t help but feel extremely overjoyed and happy that the feeling was mutual. 

Almost six months later and now in a fully committed relationship with you, Harry finally understands what Lucy meant—love was supposed to be easy… and loving you felt like second nature to him.

You had been spending most days at his penthouse. There’s already a space in his closet for you and extra counter space in the bathroom. You manage to make this place a home—he’d come home and you’d be there in the kitchen, making dinner. Or on some nights, he’d catch you grading some papers. This felt easy. Being with you was easy. 

Harry knew that he loved you the moment he laid eyes on you. It’s cliche—he knows—but every time he’s around you, his heart races. When he sees you smile or hears you laugh, it makes his stomach do flips. And when he’s holding you in his arms, his life feels complete—like the one thing that had been missing in his life is now here with him. 

He hadn’t yet said he loved you because he wanted to do it right. He wanted it to be perfect. Harry had an entire date planned—he was going to take you out to the same restaurant from your first date. Take you for a walk around the park afterwards and then, he’d tell you how much he loves you. It was going to be romantic—something to remember for the rest of his days, but that morning… His entire plan was thrown out the window. 

You were in his kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts, making breakfast. Harry had gotten used to this, but for some reason, that morning, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The sun shone through his large windows, illuminating you in a warm glow. He was dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a worn t-shirt as he stared at you, a smile slowly lining his lips. 

He walked over to you and watched as your eyes moved from the pan and over to him. Harry bit his lower lip at the sight of your broad smile. You dropped the spatula and walked over to him, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders as you pecked his lips lightly.

“I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” you said. “Since you always like to surprise me, I figured I could return the favor this time.”

Harry chuckled and allowed his arms to wrap loosely around your waist. He held your body firmly against his own as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Why are you so good to me?” he asked quietly, hand coming up to rest on your cheek. 

“Hmm,” you answered. “Maybe because I really like you.” 

Harry grinned and pulled back to look into your eyes. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he tilted his head. “Yeah?” 

You nodded, leaning against his touch. “Yeah,” you answered. “Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Castillo.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he reached behind you to turn off the stove. He lifted you off your feet to set you on top of the kitchen counter, moving his hands to rest at either side of you. He moved to stand between your legs as he felt your hands move to card through his hair. 

“I am,” he whispered quietly. “Very lucky.” His eyes stared deeply into your own. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest—the nerves slowly beginning to build as those three words settled on the tip of his tongue. There was a tense silence that filled the air and it was almost like you could anticipate what Harry was about to say next. 

Your hands moved to his cheeks, feeling the bristles of hair underneath your fingertips. You leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose as his hands moved from the edges of the counter to his rest on your hips. 

“Baby,” he said softly. 

“Harry,” you replied. 

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “I thought I’d never be capable of love. It just always seemed so difficult for me, but you—loving you is easy.” Harry couldn’t help the tears that build in his deep brown eyes. The way you were looking at him now eased so much of the nerves and worry that he felt. “You make me feel—baby,” he sighed—his breath catching in his throat as he brought a hand up to wipe the fallen tear that trickled down his cheek once he blinked.

“Hey…” you whispered, kissing his cheek lightly. “I’m in love with you too, Harry.” 

He pulled back. Eyes wide, features etched with shock. “You make me feel good,” Harry continued. “Valuable. Seen. Heard. Special. Every moment spent with you is always better than the last, and when I’m apart from you, I’m always counting the minutes until I can see you again.” He let out a shaky breath as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours as he whispered, “I love you. I think I loved you the first time I saw you.” 

“God, I forgot how charming you are,” you teased, hands moving to his shoulders as you slowly wrapped your arms around him. “You made me believe in love again, Harry. I’m so glad I said yes when you asked me out… and to think, I could have missed out on this, on you.” Leaning in, you pecked his lips lightly. “And loving you is easy too. You make me feel safe and I’ve never felt that before… with anyone.”

Harry smiled and gently pulled you off the counter, your legs easily sliding around his waist as he walked you both to the large couch. He sat down with you on his lap as he brought a hand up to your cheek. “Move in with me?” 

“Didn’t you know?” You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips with his. “I was slowly beginning to move my things in anyway,” you grinned. 

Harry chuckled, firmly pressing his lips against your own. “I love you, baby,” he mumbled. “So much.” 

“Mmm,” you smiled, pulling away briefly. “Gonna show me how much?” 

His eyes darkened instantly and he wrapped his arms around your waist to swiftly lie you on your back against the couch. Harry settled himself between your legs as he leaned back in—eagerly pressing his lips along your jawline down to the side of your neck. 

“Oh, baby, you know I will,” he grinned against you, peppering light kisses against your neck. 

The feeling of his stubble tickled your skin, causing a fit of giggles to escape your lips. He smiled to himself and pulled away from you briefly to look into eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispered, a content smile lining his lips. 

“I love you too, Harry. Now get back here and kiss me,” you giggled, linking your hands together at the nape of his neck and pulling him back down to press your lips with his. 

Harry smiled against your lips—contentment, relief, and happiness filling his entire soul. 

Lucy forgot to mention that loving was only easy if it was with the right person. 

And you—you were the right person for him. 

[rafeslvbug]

Hiii, love your content. Would love if some day we could see hockey!Rafe being mean or something (even tho it lowk feels ooc for him?) But I still wanna see him angry and mean at reader

rafe couldn’t always control his anger - something he harboured a lot of.

after six hours of practice, slips, sticks clashing against his knees, incompetent players, frustration simmered through him, bubbling with each second that passed. and what should’ve been a blessing, a momentary respite and aid in madness turned to more irritation. his hockey jersey drowned your figure, small leotard and skirt slipping under it, and it would’ve made him crazy, tossing the game aside to talk to you, only today it made him more infuriated.

he had no reason, really, to take it out on you, or to say anything to you at all. but he did, nonetheless, judgement clouded in a haze of impatience.

blissfully unaware, you perked up at the sight of your boyfriend approaching the glass, abandoning the laces of your skates to tug them off and run up to it too. only to be met with disappointment, so it seemed. for he wasn’t his usual devilish grins and sneaky comments, but hardened eyes and a stiff jaw. before you could beam out a ‘hey’ you were met with rafe’s sharp snap of, “couldn’t you come back later?”

your brows pinch, eyelashes fluttering with each slow blink you took to register his words before you murmured, “but i practice at this time everyday?”

“well what are you? a fuckin’ control freak or what? we’re busy, we’re not movin’,” he bites out, speaking to you as if you’re not his girlfriend, just some annoying skater.

“rafe–“

“no; we’re busy, for fucks sake, go!”

despite the anger you see emanating from him, you try to keep even minded, try to ignore the hotness welling at your eyes too.

“you’ve been practicing for a few hours rafe don’t you think you should have a break?”

“look, i don’t need you to tellin’ me what the fuck i should an’ shouldn’t do, okay?” he cuts you off, looking down at you through the glass.

you chew your trembling lip, trying to fight back tears, managing a slight nod.

“fuckin’ great,” he mumbles, skating back to his group while you collect your own skates and things, slinging your baby blue duffel over your shoulder and wiping away tears as you leave the rink.

“get away from my car!” you croak through your tears, having not subsided over the thirty minutes that have passed.

“baby, listen to me, please,” he calls out, voice on the verge of desperate, eyes rubbed red. his hair’s a mess, and he must’ve been sprinting to have gotten here before you.

“oh so now i’m your baby? before i was just what? an annoying skater? in your fuckin’ way? go away rafe!” you wipe at the tears still falling, moving around him to open the trunk of your car and throw in your duffel.

“y/n, please, i’m sor–“

“go away! you said it to me, now i’m saying it to you! go away!” you shove against his chest, though he doesn’t budge, firmly wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

“i was tired! i was frustrated! i didn’t mean any of it! i’m sorry– i’m sorry!” he keeps your fighting form still, pulling your reluctant body into his hold, engulfing you in his arms. when the sobs wrack his body, soaking his shirt, his heart shatters, squeezing you tighter. keeping you upright. guilt crashes into him.

“i’m so sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, hand cradling the back of your head. “i was an asshole, you didn’t deserve that, and you were right, mkay?” his voice is the calm in your storm of tears; he’s trying badly to right his wrong.

sniffling, trying to fight back your hiccoughs, you nod against him. rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, craning his neck all the way down to peek at your face: red eyed and nosed, eyelashes sticky with tears and trembling lower lip. it breaks him to know he caused it. the pain. the tears. the sadness. all of it.

“d’you wanna go do your practice?” he asks, thumb brushing your cheek. you shake your head, prompting him to ask, “want to go home?” you shake your head again, and he frowns, before smiling softly. “want me to get you a milkshake?” this time, you nod, and rafe’s relieved, at least, that you’d rather stay with him than go home.

[pheastinyworld]

current boyfriend ❀•°•───────•

request: the current boyfriend trend with Gabe would be so cute

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none?

author's note: got the other request out for you ceci, hope you like it!!! also, just want to say to everyone, a big big thank you for sending so much love and so many compliments about my work recently, it means the world!!!

| phe's main masterlist |

something you absolutely loved doing was messing with your boyfriend. you loved getting reactions out of him; seeing his eyes dart around in confusion, cute little pout on your lips.

you didn’t even post the small stunts you played on him. sure, maybe you would send them to your friends, maybe one of his siblings just to tease him, but you never really posted them. you still loved doing them nonetheless. 

it was actually liliane who had sent you the tiktok, texting you ‘yo do this to my brother, he’ll die’. once she sent you the video, your 'for you page' was suddenly filled with the ‘current boyfriend’ trend, every two scrolls, you were met with it. 

you seriously didn’t know how gabe was going to react. you thought he’d either get pouty and annoyed or let it go right over his head. 

that just made you more eager to try it. so, you decided to try it after you had both finished class for the day. you were propped up on the cushions you’d arranged at the top of his bed, gabe resting his head on your lap as you both scrolled on your phone. 

it wasn't until one of your friends facetimed you, that you thought of doing it. 

“lucy’s calling by the way.” you quickly warned gabe, who just hummed back at you absentmindedly as he continued to text his three person group chat that consisted of will, ryan and him. 

you answered with a warm smile. lucy had been your friend since the start of college, often facetiming briefly in the evenings when one of you needed help after missing a lecture. 

“hey where were you during class today? you left me all alone.” you complained lightheartedly, watching as lucy moved around the papers on her desk, phone propped up against some books you assumed. 

“ugh, i had the absolute worst hangover. i was throwing up like crazy this morning.” she replied. looking at her, she didn’t seem her full self, and you nodded empathetically while running your fingers through gabe’s hair. “anyway, what are you up to right now?”

this was when you’d try play your little prank on gabe. you smirked, knowing he couldn’t see you and in return, lucy furrowed her eyebrows questioningly, “nothing much, just relaxing. oh my current boyfriend’s here too. gabe say hi.”

a knowing smile grew on lucy's face; you had actually joked around with her a few days ago, saying you were going to try do this somehow. 

gabe stayed quiet and you thought he just hadn’t heard you, too engrossed in his conversation with his best friends. oh, but gabe very much had. confusion washed over him and he stopped typing suddenly, locking his phone. 

“hi gabe.” lucy said politely over the phone. gabe shifted his body, pulling away from you and sitting up again, eyebrows pulled together, eyes squinting at you. 

“hey lucy.” gabe mumbled back, but he seriously couldn’t care less about your friend on the phone. 

you smiled at him sweetly as if you hadn’t done anything. gabe blinked a few times as you continued your conversation, relaying what lucy had missed in your class today.

current? what the hell did you even mean by that? surely, it was a mistake, a slip of your words. gabe’s brain tripped over the word a few times, watching as you so casually chatted with your friend like what you said was the most normal thing.

more than anything, he was just confused, utterly lost at what you were playing at. you watched him spiral just a little - he wasn’t upset at all, just very confused - his eyes flicking between yours and the floor, then back, lips parting like he was about to ask something. but, being the very polite person he was, he didn’t interrupt your call. 

that was, until he was getting impatient, because he wanted to know desperately what you meant by it. he wasn’t going to be able to do anything else. he wanted to know now. 

you paused as he got up from the bed suddenly, retrieving a hoodie from his closet and pulling it over his head as if he was about to leave. 

“hold on luce, i gotta go, i think my current boyfriend is leaving for some reason.” you said as gabe turned around and gave you a look of disbelief at your words, before opening the door and stepping outside. 

“okay bye, have fun.” lucy laughed before hanging up, and you placed your phone on the bed and sat up.

gabe walked back inside and shut the door behind him, mouth pulled into a thin line but not quite enough to be frowning.

“what was that about?” you questioned. now you were confused. 

“what, me going outside?” gabe asked, gesturing behind him and you nodded, “oh, i was just making sure the lineup of your next boyfriends were still there.”

you scoffed, shaking your head at him as his face scrunched up. “i mean, seeing as i’m only temporary, had to check if they were ready.”

“you’re ridiculous.” you rolled your eyes, leaning back into the cushions as gabe went to sit in the middle of the bed, not close enough to be touching you. you didn't think he’d get this petty. 

“what did you even mean by current?” he leaned back a bit, arms crossed, trying so hard to look unimpressed and annoyed at you, but that’s just not the person he was. he couldn’t really be annoyed at you. ever. instead, a pout was tugging at the ends of his lips and it made you feel a little bad.

“i mean current. you’re my boyfriend right now, are you not?” you shrugged, sitting back up to try shuffle your way over to him but you were swiftly stopped by a rather sassy hand coming up to tell you ‘don’t come any further.’

“okay, so i’m going to need you to roll that back.” gabe eyes narrowed, not in annoyance, but in that you-did-not-just-say-that kind of way. “current?” he asked again just to make sure.

“yes?” you replied like it was obvious, trying so hard not to break or let your face give him any signs that you were joking, but you could tell he knew something was up.

gabe huffed in return, eyeing you suspiciously before speaking. “so, when are you planning the break up? cause i’d really appreciate it if it wasn't on a thursday or friday by the way so it doesn't clash with practice.” 

you can’t hold your laughter in anymore, shuffling closer to him so you could scootch on top of his lap, grinning at him. gabe sighed, knowing it was impossible to not smile back at you even if he was still a little confused. 

“never planning on it. it’s a trend on tiktok.” gabe rolled his eyes, a grin forming as he placed his hands on either side of your hips.

“ugh, seriously?” gabe laughed, shaking his head at you.

“promise, i was only joking. i've definitely not got a lineup of boyfriends waiting outside.”

“better be. want you to be mine forever.” gabe stated, and you felt your face go hot, a shade of pink tickling at the apples of your cheeks, head dropping to his shoulder and arms going around to bring him closer to you.

gabe chuckled at you being all flustered, hands sliding up your shirt and rubbing circles on your back. “how many more of these silly little pranks have you got left?”

you smiled, pulling away to look at your boyfriend, all cozy looking; the loving gaze he had on you making you want to melt on the spot. 

“probably more. tell your sister to stop sending them to me and giving me ideas if you don’t like them.” gabe groaned, rolling his eyes.

“of course she's still managing to mess with me from far away.”

[emeraldserenade]

Hi, coming straight from the hook up fic!!!!! (Loved it!!!) We definitely need more and a longer version of lazy morning sex with Joaquin !!!! Thank you in advance <33

Lazy Sunday ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You and Joaquín enjoy your morning at home

tw: fem!reader, filthy, smut, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! Here's the longer version of lazy morning sex with Joaquín. It's a longer drabble but I feel like it's a drabble nonetheless. I got carried away, oops 🫣

➽──────────────❥

You were looking forward to your Sunday, Sam guaranteed that there would be no last minutes meetings for missions. You had Joaquín for the whole day without you two worrying about him being called in for any reason.

You woke up turned on, your dreams were filled to the brim of Joaquín and what happened the night before. Joaquín was awake when you woke up and when you looked over your shoulder at him, he had a smirk on his face. "Seemed like you were having some good dreams," Joaquín teased, his smiling widening so you could see the nice points of his canines.

"Great dreams," you told him, pushing your hips back against him. A light gasp left your lips when you realized how hard Joaquín actually was.

"Thought so," he whispered before his lips landed on your shoulder. "You were saying my name, letting out little sounds. Tell me, baby, what were you dreaming about?" Joaquín's hand slid around you to lazily rub circles on your clit.

"You," you gasped as he rolled his hips into you. "How good you made me feel last night," you admitted, looking over your shoulder to kiss Joaquín. You felt his tip catch at your entrance and moaned at the feeling. You pushed your hips back just a little more and Joaquín bottomed out.

There was a slow roll hips, lazy and messy kisses exchanged over shoulders, and the continuous circles drawn on your clit. Joaquín would occasionally bite down on your neck or shoulder, sucking after to leave a mark. It was all too much and not enough at the same time. "I wanna," your words broke in a moan. "I wanna see you, please," you begged lightly and Joaquín let you have what you wanted. He slipped out just long enough to flip you to your other side so you were facing him, slipping back into you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Your pleasure was drawn out. Every time you seemed to get to the brink of your orgasm, Joaquín would slow his hips to an almost stop and stop the circles on your clit. You would whine and plead but he would let you calm down just enough to draw it out some more. By the time Joaquín finally let you succumb to your orgasm, you were panting and had small tears in your eyes. "Oh, miel, don't cry," Joaquín kissed your tears away as your pleasure washed over you.

"Just feels so good," you told him, your breath coming out in short and fast gasps. You hips were pushing against Joaquín as you slowly came down. You gasped when the pleasure turned into overstimulation, "Too much," you slurred.

"Come on, baby. You can give me one more, I know you can," Joaquín mumbled, his own orgasm almost happening. You gasped and moaned as he sped up his ministrations on your clit and you fell over the edge once again, your orgasm mixing with Joaquín's.

"I love you," you sighed as you came down fully, Joaquín slowly slipping his softening cock out of you.

"I love you more," Joaquín said, pushing you on your back and kissing down your chest and stomach.

"Honey, what are you doing?" You questioned, hands finding their way to his hair when he kissed your hipbone. You jumped slightly when Joaquín bit down on your hip, smoothing the sting with a kiss and a brush of his tongue.

"I'm going to clean you up, miel," Joaquín mumbled against your thigh before biting it. Joaquín gently kissed your clit causing your hips to jump up and you to grip his hair tighter. You heard his small chuckle before he dived him, his tongue entering you. You felt and heard the groan he let out at the combined taste of the two of you. Joaquín ate you out messily and slowly, enjoying the way you would moan and move beneath him. He held onto your thighs, his fingers digging into the meat of them as he dove deeper. He went from fucking you with his tongue to kissing, sucking, and circling your clit.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum," you muttered, your hips trying to slant towards him some more. You could feel him pull away just slightly before speaking.

"Cum more me, miel," Joaquín said before diving back in, you looked down and saw how his eyes were closed. The sight of him completely enjoying himself, eyes closed and messily eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do, was enough to make you come undone. You let go with a shout of his name and you arched your back. Joaquín kept his actions going through it, letting you ride your high before pulling away with one last kiss to your abused clit. "You did so good, baby," Joaquín kissed you as he laid back down next to you, pulling you into his chest. "My perfect girl," he added on, rubbing your side.

"Can we shower?" You asked, pressing a kiss to Joaquín's bare chest.

"Yeah, we can," Joaquín nodded, moving to get up to start the shower.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[writingdevil]

I'd be Home with You PT.2 (STP Human AU)

Part One

There were a lot of things that terrified Oscar, but he never allowed those fears to be seen. The few times where Oscar allowed his fear to show- was the first time he lied and got away with it, the first time he and Winnie were awful to each other, and tonight.

Oscar doesn't think the sight of a drugged Hudson, being dragged away in a bar will leave his mind for a good few years.

They brought him up to their apartment, where they immediately checked to see if he was okay.

Hudson's skin was sickly pale and clammy, and he would stir awake every now and then, his eyes cracking open a sliver for only a second, mumbling incoherent nonsense and looking very confused and disoriented, before falling back to sleep.

It didn't look like Hudson was in any critical danger, so all they could do was have a glass of water waiting for him and be there in case he vomited.

Well, he said they, but it was actually just Oscar taking care of Shéamus. Once they laid Hudson down on the couch, Oscar instructed Shéamus to go into a different room until the coast was clear.

"He is going to wake up, and we will start screaming at each other," Oscar explained. "I'd rather you not get caught in the middle of that. I'll yell if I need you."

Shéamus had understood, pulling Oscar closer to give him a slow, loving kiss, and Oscar let himself sink into the warm and steady embrace of his partner.

He knew this was a kiss of encouragement from his boyfriend, and when they pulled apart, Shéamus gave him a reassuring squeeze and whispered, "Remember to be honest, darling. He needs to know how much you missed him."

Oscar nodded, not trusting his words at the moment, and soon enough he was left alone in the living room with the brother he hadn't seen in three years, and Coffee.

Oscar decided that Lady Coffee could hang around. Hudson had always been an animal lover, and Oscar hoped that if he used his daughter as a weapon, then this reunion would go so much smoother.

God, Hudson.

Oscar had too many conflicting thoughts and questions, to try and make sense of what was happening right now in his life. Hudson was here, under not-so-great circumstances, but he was here nonetheless, when Oscar had been fully prepared to never see his smile again.

But then again, life sure liked to prove Oscar wrong.

Oscar was sitting in the armchair opposite the couch, just staring at Hudson, who had Coffee trying to groom his ponytail- when Hudson started to stir.

Oscar leaped to his feet, grabbing the small bucket he had brought incase of vomiting, and a glass of water in the other hand, rushing over in front of Hudson.

His little brother's face was scrunched up, and his body started to wriggle and squirm on the spot. Oscar saw the moment Hudson's fingers twitched, and he took a step back.

Just as he predicted, Hudson shot up with a strangled yell, immediately having to cling to the back of the couch as he groaned in pain, disoriented and weak.

Oscar wanted to speak, but instead he swallowed his words and silently handed Hudson the glass of water. Hudson took it without complaint, his head hung low as he attempted to take even breaths in, and he lifted the glass to his mouth- before he froze.

Oscar felt his hands shaking, as Hudson looked down at the glass suspiciously, before he lifted lifted his head and-

-Oscar forgot how bright Hudson's eyes.

Oscar could do nothing but stare, as they met each other's eyes. Hudson always had a wide-eyed, almost alert expression on his face, and today was no different. He blinked, as if trying to make sure that Oscar was real, before his face fell into soft, wary confusion, gripping the couch tighter.

It was so bizarre to Oscar to be staring at a part of himself again, to see parts of his childhood in Hudson. He could vividly remember the way Hudson used to smile- all shy and sheepish, as if he wasn't even sure why he was smiling- or the way he laughed, which could always be a small snort or burst of giggling.

It all came back to Oscar.

But this wasn't their childhood anymore.

They had been staring at each other for who knows how long, and Oscar gulped nervously, before he gestured to the glass, and the first words to his baby brother in three years was, "You should drink that."

Hudson's brows furrowed, but he silently obliged, taking a hesitant sip- before immediately gulping the water down the next second.

Oscar released a breath he hadn't known he was holding, setting the bucket down in front of him, watching Hudson with a worried eye.

He seemed fine right now, just weak and disoriented, which was good. Whatever the stuff that knocked him out was, it wasn't too bad.

Oscar gave Hudson a moment or two to get his bearings, watching as his eyes darted to take in the entirety of the apartment, no doubt looking for potential hazards and escape routes. That was always the first thing on Hudson's mind.

He waited until Hudson managed to sit up properly without too much difficulty, and then his eyes landed back on Oscar, and it felt like Oscar's entire world held its breath as they locked eyes again, and then Hudson let out a very quiet and soft, "Hi."

That one word. That one word coming from that voice was enough to make his knees tremble, at the fact that he was getting the chance to hear his brother again.

"Hey," Oscar softly said, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. "Are you okay?"

Hudson paused to assess himself, looking down, before nodding, and then Oscar asked, "Do you remember what happened?"

That was when Hudson's eyes darkened with shame, and he seemed to shrink into himself. Oscar hated the sight of seeing his brother look so small and upset- he should be running around with a lightness in his eyes that would rival the stars in the eye.

"I know I was in a bar, talking to people- they live in my neighbourhood, but hadn't spoken to them before."

Oscar dug his fingers into the sleeve of his jumper, and calmly said to Hudson, "You got spiked, Hudson. I watched as those two dickheads dragged you out of the bar, and thank God I was there to save you."

Hudson's brows furrowed in confusion, and Oscar assumed Hudson was surprised at Oscar coming to his rescue, but what came out of his mouth was, "I didn't get spiked."

Oscar paused, then chuckled humourlessly with a shake of his head. "You did get spiked. I had to watch as those men dragged you from your seat, when you could hardly lift your head up." Oscar tried to keep his voice calm and collected, but that was a battle he knew he was failing. "I thought you were more observant than that."

"I am," Hudson insisted, his voice growing stronger and more sure the more he woke up. "I don't drink, can't put myself at risk like that."

As frustrated as Oscar was with his brother, he believed that, at least.

Hudson then turned around to plant his feet on the floor and stand up, and Lady Coffee made a noise of offense at the sudden movement, moving away from Hudson with an annoyed flick of her tail.

Hudson's attention was immediately captured by Oscar's precious daughter, and when he saw Hudson's face soften up at the sight of his cat, Oscar figured now was a good time to ask.

"You said you'd never talked to these guys before. What made you go into a bar of all places with them?"

Hudson sighed as he looked back at him again. "They came up to me and started talking about how fast they knew I was and how good I was at defending myself." Oscar did not like the implication that Hudson lived in a shady neighbourhood where he had to fight back against creeps.

"They said that they'd love to learn some tricks from me and get to know me better, said that they felt safer with me around them." Hudson lowered his head to his lap, his voice getting quieter as he said, "I thought they wanted my help. I just wanted them to feel safe."

Oscar stood there, taking a few minutes to process what Hudson had just told him- before a bitter chuckle escaped from his mouth.

Hudson's head shot up, but Oscar couldn't stop his cruel giggling, at the absurdity that he just heard.

"Fucking of course they were lying to you," he hissed, unable to stop the look of disbelief he gave Hudson, who's eyes only grew darker at his tone.

"Did you not see those guys? They had more muscle than brains, which thankfully was how Shéamus and I won so easily." Oscar crossed his arms and paced up and down. "What the fuck did you think would happen?"

"I thought they were telling the truth," Hudson defended. "Then next thing I knew, they stabbed me with a syringe."

"Oh my God, are you a thick idiot?" Oscar snapped. "What do you mean that you believed two strangers and followed them into a bar? Where you let them drug you-"

"I didn't let then-"

"You actually thought that they wanted tips of defending themselves? Are you insane? Riddle me this, Hudson," Hudson rolled his eyes, which only further angered Oscar. How did Hudson not see all the warning signs in this situation that Oscar could clearly see?

"What would you have done if I hadn't spotted you? How would you have fought them off?" Hudson rolled his eyes, as if the thought of him not being able to defend himself was a stupid notion, but Hudson didn't see what Oscar saw. He didn't see his brother being dragged away by strange men.

Oscar walked until he was looming over Hudson now. "They said that they were gonna hurt you, but what were you gonna do if they decided to do something else to you-"

"I wouldn't of let them do that to me!"

Now it was Oscar's turn to roll his eyes, but with a bitter, condescending laugh, and he saw the way Hudson's eyes narrowed in that familiar way when he disagreed with what Oscar was doing.

But the fact that Hudson was yelling at him meant that Oscar was getting to him, so he refused to back down.

Hudson's nostrils flared, and his fingers kept twitching at his sides, and he glared up at him like a tsunami threatening to drown Oscar. "I know it was bad, but I just wanted to try and help people."

Oscar spread his arms wide in disbelief as he exclaimed, "How could you not see that they had no good intentions for you? I know you like to act like a wild animal all the time, but are you that fucking stupid?!"

That did it.

Hudson took a step closer, face red and eyes wide with a primal intensity, like a tiger ready to pounce. Oscar was only a couple of inches taller than Hudson, but he made those inches count by doing his best to stick up his nose at Hudson.

"You'd think that you'd have grown up now that you're twenty two, but you haven't changed a bit." It almost felt comforting, getting to sink back into familiar roles, even after all this time. Oscar could feel the rage and indignation that he had buried all those years ago rise back up, and they were suddenly right back to three years ago.

"Neither have you," Hudson growled. "Still thinking you're better than everyone else, that everyone else isn't worth your time."

Oscar gave Hudson a cold smile. "Whatever stops me from getting drugged in a bar, I guess."

Rage flashed in Hudson's eyes like a burning fire. "I told you- I thought they were good."

"Why the hell did you think that?"

"Because why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't I help teach people how to protect themselves?"

"Because it's every person for themselves out there! You should know that by now!" Oscar snapped, feeling his entire body and soul become tighter and tighter with rage, threatening to squeeze out all of Oscar's secrets and masks.

Hudson paused, as if taken aback by Oscar's statement, before he exploded upon Oscar and screamed, "You have never trusted other people before!"

"Well you have always found it easier to run away instead of taking power!"

Hudson clutched the front of his hoodie desperately. "I don't want to be the reason that other people are in pain!"

Oscar poked Hudson painfully in the chest. "That just means that you'll let any dickhead walk all over you!"

"No it-doesn't!" With a loud grunt, Hudson shoved Oscar away, creating some distance between them, and Oscar thankfully managed to keep his balance, and Coffee let out a surprised cry, making Hudson wince and Oscar give her a soothing look.

They locked eyes, blazing blue meeting crackling hazel, both seething and panting at one another, and it felt like they were both wild and bloodthirsty creatures, living in dark woods full of thorns and monsters that they had to learn to survive in. But despite growing up in the same jungle, they both survived differently.

Hudson took a deep breath, and tried to lower his voice as he said, "You always hated the world."

Oscar lowered his eyes, grimacing at the statement. It wasn't a completely true fact- he couldn't of hated the world if it had given him Hudson, despite their current fight- and even then, it had given him Shéamus and Lady Coffee and all their other friends who saw something good within Oscar.

"No, I just know how the world works. So do you," he added softly, noticing how Hudson's eyes flickered with dark shame. "We both know that the world is shit and unforgiving. We've both experienced its cruelty."

Flashes of comforting a crying Hudson after bullies chased him home, of Oscar struggling not to freak out as someone turned him down, of two brothers trying to fill their lives with love and happiness thar their parents never bothered to provide for them.

For a moment, they stood there in solemn silence, and then the next, Hudson's eyes were glaring at Oscar again.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we have to contribute to it."

Oscar sighed sharply, thinking that he had gotten through to his naive brother, but he was still as stubborn as ever.

"Well that's the only way you're gonna survive in life!" Oscar exclaimed. "By doing whatever it takes to get you to the top! You never understood that about me! You always called me a rat about it!"

Hudson hugged himself tight as he yelled back, "That's because you kept calling me a wild animal! You kept saying how I was a coward!"

"Yeah, because all you did was run away from shit, acting like everything was out to get you and you just needed to avoid everything, and guess who had to actually clean up your messes? Me!"

Hudson sighed in frustration, guilt and fury shining in his bleary eyes, and he dragged his fingers through the end of his ponytail, sitting back down on the couch and allowing Coffee the chance to walk over and place herself on his lap, and Oscar couldn't help but be happy and the sight of Hudson smiling down at the cat.

Hudson gently rubbed his hand up and down her backside, and Oscar smiled at the content look on Coffee's face, laying her head down against Hudson's lap and closing her eyes peacefully, her purring filling up the tension in the room with something sweeter.

This was where their argument ended three years ago. Before Oscar left for college, he had tried to pass down some of his wisdom to Hudson to help him survive without him, but Hudson refused to listen to any of his tricks or tactics of deceit.

Oscar had just wanted to make sure that his little brother would be safe when he wasn't around, but then it suddenly felt like Hudson was spitting in the face of all that Oscar was made up of.

Oscar would lie to his parents about how Hudson got really dirty. He would be the one to forge sick notes for his brother, whenever he was having a bad day and didn't want to interact with humans. Oscar had no problems with tricking others, if it meant Hudson got to be happy and relaxed in life. Lying for himself was second nature, and he only wished to bring his brother up along in the world with him.

Hudson, meanwhile, didn't really operate the same way some others did. When he got overwhelmed, he would go nonverbal and rush to find a quiet place outside with nothing but flowers and the chirping of birds to keep him company. Whenever someone was picking on him, Hudson's default reaction was to run away and hide where no one would find him. But when running wasn't an option, and Hudson was cornered like an animal, he attacked.

They were both scared, wild things- but Hudson was happy to flee like he was prey, whereas Oscar was determined to survive by using every dirty trick in the book to get what he wanted.

He thought Hudson understood that. He hadn't realised that his brother would hate what Oscar did.

Oscar was so heartbroken and offended that day that he screamed and shouted all sort of cruel insults and accusations at Hudson, only making his brother bare his own fangs in return. They both walked away that day believing that the other thought them a heartless backstabber and a feral animal respectively.

Oscar wasn't sure where to go from here.

'Remember to be honest, darling.'

Fine. If it stopped Hudson from walking away again, then Oscar was willing to try it- no matter how much he hated it.

Oscar watched as Hudson giggled at the way Lady Coffee's tail kept lightly tapping against his hand whenever he went to pet her.

Oscar crossed his arms as he sat in the armchair opposite Hudson, bouncing his leg up and down as he quietly said, "I never- minded having to clean up your messes. I know you never meant any harm."

Hudson ducked his head, becoming more interested in Coffee's fur than Oscar's face, but he didn't mind.

"I knew you better than anyone else," Oscar continued, "All I ever wanted was for you to feel safe to be who you were."

"I know," was Hudson's quiet, meek response. Then, he softly added, "You still know me better than anyone else."

Wow- Oscar was not expecting to tear up from that, but he suddenly found himself tilting his head up and blinking rapidly to stop anymore tears from forming.

He dug his fingers into his knitted jumper, feeling himself battling with the urge to be honest, or to just smile and say whatever will get Hudson to like him again.

But they might actually go hand in hand.

"I-", Oscar spoke up again, staring at a random spot on the floor- a smudged print where Oscar had stopped at when he had finally been able to let Hudson go when they arrived home, but found that he didn't want to.

"-I only ever wanted to protect you," Oscar quietly admitted, and a part of him wanted Hudson to interrupt and argue with him, but when he didn't, it just made everything else spill out of him.

"I was the only one who knew how special you were. I just wanted you to keep that spark, like how you would reach out and let any bug crawl onto your hand when the others kids were grossed out at it. You were just gentle. You were just this kind, sweet, gentle thing that had been born with all this fear, and you have the sharpest instincts that I've ever seen. I knew you were worth everything to me, from the moment you were born."

Oscar smiled down at the ground. "My little Sonny," he whispered to himself.

But then as quick as it arrived, his smile fell. "So when I was about to leave for college, I was terrified to leave you all alone without anyone to protect you. I was so scared that you would run away and bury yourself into a hole, avoiding life and just-hiding. I didn't want you to hide, I wanted you to run free and thrive, because I know you're the most gifted and kindhearted person on the planet, and you deserve the chance to be happy."

Oscar released a shaky breath, and he found that it was becoming harder to hold back tears, and he kept his head low, bringing his own ponytail over a shoulder and running his hands through it to try and calm himself down.

"I didn't really care about anybody else, so long as you were okay. I wouldn't have thought twice about lying or betraying someone, as long as it meant that you were good, because I wouldn't hesitate to do that for my own gain."

Oscar shrugged to himself. "But I should've guessed that you were a better person than me. You've never wanted to hurt anybody else, not unless they gave you a reason to. I got so angry when you wouldn't take my advice, because it felt like you didn't even care about what I was trying to do for you, that I was trying to support you the only way I knew how."

Oscar suddenly winced as he accidentally tugged his hair a little too hard, and he took a minute to smooth it out again, forcing himself to ignore the single tear that fell down his face as he did so.

"But mostly, I was just angry at myself- because you were right. You were right not to listen to me, because all I do is hurt people, and- and you deserved better than me, but I just didn't want to admit it to myself."

Oscar wasn't sure when the warm tears started flowing down his face, but he realised it when he felt Coffee jump up into his lap, concern in her big eyes, and Oscar sniffled and hugged her to his chest.

"But t-then I said all those awful things to you," Oscar sobbed, his vision blurring together from the tears, "and I just proved you right."

Oscar took a shuddering breath in, hating how he must look a mess in this moment. "I proved that I really was a bad person, that all I do is look out for myself, if I was able to push you, my baby brother, away so easily."

Oscar took a few seconds to take a few deep breaths, scratching behind Coffee's ears and smiling while hiccuping at how she leaned into his touch without any hesitation.

His smile turned bittersweet. "I loved you so much. You were my light, the one good thing that I had, and I fucked it all up and- and-"

Oscar was suddenly hit with memories from that day, from the way they roared at each other, from the way that Oscar felt so hurt, when Hudson refused to listen and even insult the advice he had tried to give him. He remembered feeling so alone in that moment, because up until then, Hudson was his reason to believe that Oscar was good.

But when he looks back on that day, all he remembered was the way Hudson glared as tears streamed down his face, and Oscar's never hated himself more than in that moment, because it just proved that he was a heartless monster.

He thought that was all he was good for- until Shéamus came into his life.

Shéamus came in, and saw a warmth within Oscar that he himself didn't even know was there. Shéamus saw everything that Oscar was, lies and all, and still loved him.

With that newfound warmth, Oscar started to be himself more around Shéamus, and he found himself not sticking to his old tricks as much- and he didn't get hurt for it.

That meant that there had to be some goodness within the world, if it gave him friends, a pet, a partner, all without Oscar having to put up a performance. He didn't have to be heartless to gain happiness for himself. Oscar could trust people.

Oscar was good- Shéamus saw it within him, his friends saw, and Hudson had seen it- and Oscar refused to lose the first person to love him for who he was.

"I'm sorry!" Oscar sobbed, making Lady Coffee jump in fright and hop onto the ground, but that just gave Oscar space to lean forward and wrap his arms around himself tightly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so fucking sorry Hudson!" Oscar's face hurt with how hard he was crying, but it was like a deep pool that Oscar had ignored for years, and now all his sorrow and guilt was crashing into him all at once.

"You're not a wild animal! I should never have said those things to you! I shouldn't of pushed you away like that!"

His head hung low as he sobbed, releasing every painful emotion tied to his brother that he had locked away for the sake of appearances.

"I've missed you so fucking much! I wanted to talk to you so badly, but I thought that you hated me! I'm sorry, Hudson!"

The only reason Oscar's crying calmed down even slightly, was because he heard a sniffle.

He struggled to take a breath in without hiccuping, and he slowly lifted his head- to find Hudson's face flushed red and with tears streaming down his face silently.

Oscar had always been jealous of how Hudson was a silent crier all throughout his life, whereas Oscar was always so ugly and explosive when he cried. But in that moment, as their eyes met, Oscar saw the second that Hudson's face crumpled up, and he tearfully exclaimed, "I missed you too!" and lunged for him.

It felt like they were miles apart in that moment, as Oscar quickly slid off the armchair and crashed to his knees, spreading his arms out wide and letting Hudson dive into them, and the moment that Oscar had his baby brother wrapped up in his arms-

-he was home.

He was finally home.

Oscar wrapped his arms as tight as he could around Hudson, feeling him tremble and shake in his hold.

"I'm sorry too!" Hudson cried out, pressing his face into the crook of Oscar's neck, and Oscar just fluttered his eyes shut and inhaled Hudson's scent, and started weeping once he recognised that light floral scent that's stuck with him for years.

He pressed his face into Hudson's hair as his brother said through tearful hiccups, "I-I missed you too! It felt so wrong not to see you everyday, not to know where you were and what you were doing that day. It- it- felt like I couldn't relax until I knew you were safe, but I couldn't do that anymore and- and-"

Oscar gently shushed once he heard how overwhelmed Hudson was becoming, and it was so easy to slip back into old habits, to use one hand to rub up and down Hudson's back, and the other to gently scrape his fingers along his scalp, and immediately, Oscar felt Hudson's body practically sag against his own. Oscar still knew how to take care of his brother, after all this time.

"It's okay," Oscar whispered. "I'm okay, I'm safe. We're safe."

"But you weren't safe once," Hudson said, making Oscar freeze, then push his face further against Hudson.

"I heard about you and Winnie," Hudson said, his tone holding something dark and protective. "I heard that it was bad- that you got hurt a lot."

Oscar sighed. "Neither of us were good for each other. I hurt Winnie just as much as she hurt me." His scars started to itch again, but before they could get too bad, he felt Hudson clutch the back of his jumper.

"I know," Hudson said, "but if I was there, then I could've protected you from her. I could've made you end things sooner." He felt Hudson squeeze him tighter, and Oscar just squeezed him back in reassurance, to let him know that he was still here in one piece.

He felt Hudson snuggle further into his neck. "I'm sorry for calling you those things," Hudson whispered in a hushed tone, as if afraid of Oscar getting angry again just for even mentioning it. "I-I always appreciated what you did for me, and what you were trying to do that day. But you've always been so scared of the world, Ozzy. I just wanted to prove that the world could be good- not safe, but good, because you were the one who made me believe that life could be that way."

Oscar furiously blinked back tears, determined not to cry anymore than he already has, but then he felt Hudson turn his head slightly, and whisper into his ear, "Can I have my big brother back in my life now?"

Oscar choked on a gasp, and leaned back just enough to look Hudson in his teary eyes and cupping his face. Oscar's smile was wobbly as he whispered, "Only if I get to have my adorable little brother as well."

Hudson giggled, a sound that Oscar clutched to his heart, and then Hudson asked, "So all is forgiven?" Oscar nodded, brushing away a stray tear from Hudson's freckled face.

Then, Oscar leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, a gesture of their love that they've done since the moment Hudson was born.

He closed his eyes as Hudson whispered, "I love you, Oscar," and Oscar bit his lip to stop any sound from being let out at how he could feel a piece of his heart, a broken, shameful piece, heal in that moment, and he whispered back with all the love in the world, "I love you too, Sonny."

After a few minutes, they finally separated, smilng at each other with a new light in their eyes, and Oscar's attention trailed to Hudson's ponytail.

"I'm surprised you've let your hair grow out again. You've always gotten it cut short as of late."

Instantly, Hudson avoided Oscar's gaze, cheeks turning red from embarrassment, and he mumbled just loud enough for Oscar to hear, "I know but- I remember how you used to do my hair when we were little, so I thought that if I grew it out again-" Hudson stopped, biting his lip, but Oscar understood the silent reason.

-Then maybe Oscar would come back to him.

Oscar smiled at how cute his brother still was, and asked, "Do you want me to braid your hair again?"

Sonny's radient smile was the best answer he could've gotten.

-

Oscar was humming a lullaby by the time Shéamus came in to check on him.

Oscar was holding a sleeping Hudson in his lap, rocking him back and forth while Coffee cuddled into Hudson's chest. Oscar had been admiring the braid he had done for his brother, when he looked up and saw Shéamus giving him a soft smile.

"I take it that everything's all good between you two again?"

"Yeah," Oscar said, and Shéamus smiled wider as he leaned down to press a few kisses against Oscar's cheek.

Oscar giggled, then gazed down at his baby brother, his baby, his home, in fondness.

"Yeah, my life's perfect now."

[thunderberryz]

A few months ago, the Turtles Tracks podcast posted another interview they did with Lloyd Goldfine, TMNT 2003's showrunner and executive producer.

First off: Bro does genuinely feel bad about the writing of the '87 turtles in Turtles Forever, especially since he had actually been pitching the idea of crossover between it and 2003 well before the movie was conceptualized. Second: There was a point where he talked a bit about the thought process behind the turtles and it's really interesting to hear about what actually went into writing their characters.

Leonardo was the hardest of the four turtles to write for, yet was his favorite nonetheless--he just has so much love and dedication to protecting his brothers that he would basically do anything to keep them safe. He also made comparisons to characters like Cyclops, Superman, and Captain America since Leo "does the right things for the right reasons" and that characters like him tend to be boring since they can be sticks in the mud, so there was a lot of effort to humanize him and show why his traits are so noble and cool.

He didn't have as much to say about Donatello other than that he was easier than Leo due to the whole tech thing he has going on and that they wanted to amp it up a little bit, as well as show he's a good martial artist in his own right. He did, however, talk about when you're as fond of the characters you're writing for, you feel bad when something happens in the story like them getting injured. (And, I mean, we all know about all The Horrors Don goes through during the show lmao)

With Raphael, he explains that you really understand his anger issues and why he's doing what he's doing, but also that he's doing the wrong thing. Of the turtles, he's the one who really needs the extra help and support from EVERYONE--friends, family, even the audience. The important thing was that he was allowed to have his outbursts but was never given an ultimatum--short temper or no short temper, he's still part of the family and his brothers love him no matter what.

He had a really interesting explanation regarding Michelangelo's writing. They actually tried to show that he has a bit of an insecure side--he needed affirmations from his brothers and Splinter that yes, he is a great martial artist, that he does have skills and talent, and that he's not just the wise guy of the turtles. It may sound strange given he is stated to be the most gifted athlete of his brothers, but that's because it's not something he needs to think about when push comes to shove--him succeeding comes naturally whereas the other turtles have something else that helps drive them to victory (he used Leo and Raph as examples, where Leo's successes are the result of training, skill, and dedication, while Raph's are the result of his berserker tendencies IE his strength, passion, and courage.)

[cheshitora]

what sort of scenarios do u think the bllk boys would die from final destination style 🫣!!!!

ALICE HOLY SHIT I NEEDED THIS

WARNING : CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR FINAL DESTINATION SERIES/DEPICTIONS OF DEATH

FINAL CALL : obviously this might not be the most accurate list but this was fun. i fkn love final destination and finally saw bloodlines this past week. if you havent seen the final destination movies, you should (only if youre okay with violence and gore ofc)

♕ isagi ─ isagi survives until the end as he should. in a way, i can see him either being alex (fd1) or kim (fd2). kim was the ONLY one able to survive and beat death and i feel like isagi can cheat death too somehow

† rin ─ has a great chance of surviving til the end too with isagi but somehow ends up dying anyway like carter from fd1. makes it to the end but is hinted that he dies from a falling sign post the secknd the credits roll lol

† bachira ─ bachira. probably dies like hunt in tfd. getting his ass stuck in the pool's drain pipe and getting disemboweled. shit traumatized me pt.1

† nagi ─ this is so vivid in my head but the boy in fd2 that gets squished by the glass panel falling on him. that boy made no attempts to move and neither would nagi

† chigiri ─ this one might also make sense if done right but in fd5 when candice dies from falling off the bar during gymanstics practice. shit traumatized me pt.2

† reo ─ this one was tricky until i thought of fd3 when ian spirals after watching erin die. bcuz obviously reo does spiral when nagi chooses isagi over him so i can see him going rampant like ian and dying by being sliced in half

† kunigami ─ pre wildcard kunigami dies from saving someone obvi, like darlene in fd:bl and then gets bisected from a lamp post. post wildcard kunigami would die the same way just without saving someone

† sae ─ idk why this one was funny to think abt since sae is so nonchalant but he dies like julia in bloodlines. going for a jog just to get hit in the face with a soccer ball and fall into a garbage bin. and then proceeds to be crushed by the garbage truck compactor

† shidou ─ i have two specific deaths in mind that fit so well but i think i'll go with ashley and ashlyn's death in fd3. he says it's a natural tan. but then he probably decides to do a tanning bed session only for him to burn to death

† otoya ─ okay, i have to give otoya and karasu bobby and erik's death in bloodlines. otoya trying to save karasu from his fate only for the mri machine's magnetism to go up and extract any and all piercings from otoya's body. which then leads him to get folded into the mri machine when a wheelchair impales him

† karasu ─ he has bobby's death. getting his head busted in with a loose coil from a vending machine that is being extracted by the same mri machine. at least they die together

† oliver ─ also very vivid in my head but it's what he deserves. being an asshole at a massage parlor and as he's left alone, he gets his head crushed by a budai statue

† yukimiya ─ alice, i'm sorry. but yk this one works too well. olivia's death in fd5. getting laser surgery on his eye only for the laser to mutilate his right eye and then he proceeds to fall out of the building and land on a car. and then his eye pops out of his head (which then gets run over)

† barou ─ it's hard for me to imagine barou dying or getting killed but i'd have to say maybe lewis's death in fd3. gets his head crushed by a weight machine in the gym.

† hiori ─ i don't think hiori has an impactful death but it's still scary nonetheless. billy's death in fd1. shrapnel flies from train tracks as a train passes by and decapitates him (this is funny tho if you think of isagi as alex)

† kaiser ─ i have to include his bitchass in here somehow. lowkey thinking abt peter from fd5, who tried to kill molly and sam to take their lifespan but ends up getting killed with a meat spit. yeah, sounds abt right (and i bet you he'd try to take isagi's lifespan too)

† ness ─ if kaiser's here, ness will be here too. but this plays out so well in my head. erin's death. getting shot in the face with a nail gun, multiple times. shit looks like it hurts

[hirasunny]

Unforgotten Vow

pairing — k-drama! yeon sieun x fem! reader

synopsis — you and sieun made one simple promise when you were kids, and you continue to do so as you got older.

warnings/reader notes — mentions bullying, you and sieun r crybabies (in a good way), sunshine reader and sieun absolutely adores it, he thinks you're a goddess

genre — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slight angst, references to season 1 plot

word count — 2.5k+ words

note: hi! it's me again <3 i want to thank you for enjoying my fics! i read all of your comments and appreciate it a lot :( it really motivates me to write even though i'm not the best at it. much love u guys ^^ as a thanks, here’s a story dedicated to this precious boy 💛 p.s: should i make a part 2? TT

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Sieun was 7 years old when he met you.

He was celebrating his birthday at the park before he accidentally tripped and scraped his knee.

His mom and dad sat by the picnic table a few feet away from him, yet he moved unnoticed to a nearby bench. He sat down in pain as he tried to stop himself from crying.

But it was unsuccessful, his tears fell on his lap continuously. He had a feeling that his father was going to scold him again.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice was small and chirpy when you went up to him in question, tilting your head while he wiped his face and nodded—he was not one for talking.

However, you spoke again, “Do you need a band aid? I can give you one.” You asked shyly.

Sieun looked at you closely, your clothes dirty from possibly playing a lot, your hair was in decent braids but some strands already sticking out, and your legs were visibly decorated with dirt.

He moved to your face, chubby cheeks and (e/c) eyes that held curiosity in them. The boy didn’t mutter anything but still took the band aid in your offering hand, ripping it open.

You smiled and sat down beside him as you continued to talk with newly found confidence. Sieun didn’t even know what you were saying—was it about the kids at the playground? He wasn’t sure. You were talking too fast and too much.

Nonetheless, he listened.

It felt like an eternity when his mother finally called out for him; she seemed surprise as soon as her eyes landed on them.

“My mom is here.” Sieun stated, having a glance at his parental figure. That was the first time he opened his mouth, you thought. You pouted at him.

“Already? But I was going to invite you to the slide.” You responded, upset. He didn’t talk—but you liked his company. He was the only one who didn’t cut you off from speaking!

Sieun gazed back at you weirdly. Why weren’t you telling him mean things like the other kids do? And you even want to play with him. It puzzled the poor boy.

Then, he noticed your lips change from a frown to a big grin instead. “But you’ll be back right? We can play next time!” You say in excitement, nodding to yourself.

“What’s your name? I’m (Name)!”

He took a long time to process it before he answered, “Sieun.” Honestly, he had no idea why he replied, but maybe it was the way you were determined to make him your friend.

It made him feel normal in some way.

“Sieun..” You repeated slowly, just to get used to the sound of it rolling off your tongue.

A shout of your name stopped him from speaking up, you took a glimpse in that direction with a pout, “It’s my mom! I gotta go.” You huffed, looking at the boy beside you.

“Come back, okay? I’ll be here tomorrow!” You added, giving a wave as you ran to your mother. He stood up, observing you.

He disliked going outside. But if it meant that you were there, it might be bearable.

—

“Sieun! What happened?” You breathed out after running. The boy was sitting alone at the swing as he stared into abyss.

To everyone else, he looked completely fine.

But you knew him—if you stare in his eyes long enough, you would see how much emotion he actually keeps by himself. And right now, you had no doubt that he was going through something heavy.

“Your mom’s really worried, she called and said you weren’t at home.” You inform softly, settling at the swing next to his. The night was quiet, you heard nothing but the sounds of trees brushing against one another and the creaking of your swings.

You got comfortable as you admired the starry sky.

“My parents..” Sieun started, following your gaze. You hummed, an indication that you were listening.

“They’re getting a divorce.”

You raise your eyebrows in shock, looking back at him. “What..?”

He avoided your look, the ground being more interesting than the look on your face. He felt disappointed that you had to see him like this. Again.

Yet you never cared.

The word was quite new to you, it was only recently when you discovered its meaning—though you knew it was more than just a word that hurt Sieun. It meant something to him.

So you placed a hand on his shoulder and peeking your head closer to his, “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. You have me.”

Sieun finally looked at you, his eyes speaking to you more than words could express.

Thank you, they say.

You laughed lightly, ruffling his hair. He hated when people touch his hair, but you? He never minded.

“But if you have to move someplace else..” You rest your hand back on your lap. “Promise me you’ll come back?”

Oh, why were you looking at him like that?

Like you never want him to go?

Sieun’s shoulders eased and his tense look melted as he studied you. Then, he slowly raised his pinky finger. “I promise.” He told you truthfully. You smiled at him, finding the sincerity in his words.

You hooked your pinky with his, “Okay.” You whispered as to not ruin the peaceful moment.

Sieun was 10 years old when he promised you that he’d come back if he ever left someday.

—

Fate jinxed the both of you.

It must’ve laughed for the reason that it was you who had to move away instead of him.

Here you were, crying uncontrollably in front of your best friend at the airport.

“This is so unfair!” You sobbed, violently wiping your tears as Sieun gave you a tissue. He hasn’t said a single word since the ride to the airport. He seemed out of it, you noticed.

On the other hand, this was his first time to skip a few classes. You were surprised when he showed up at your house unannounced. You kept asking him several times if it was okay for him to do such a thing the whole car ride, he would simply nod as he stared at you after, you ignored it out of nervousness.

You never knew that he was memorizing you, because it could be the last time he’d ever see you again.

The star hair clip he gifted you on your birthday was neatly on your hair, the way you bounce your knee rapidly each time you get anxious, your backpack had all sorts of keychains that you buy from school trips with him, and the looks you give him—every smile, every funny face, every pout and cry. He'd remember it all.

Sieun took a mental note of all the little things, like he was studying: because if this test is about you, surely, he'd ace it.

Though, he wasn't the only one who notices, you also recognized a few things. Like his tight grip on the strap of his bag was evident, the slight twitching of his fingers—a habit he does when he’s overthinking, and his brown orbs that look at you to tell you everything you need to know.

He's...wait.

Is he tearing up?

You widen your eyes as he shuffled awkwardly and looked down, trying to maintain his posture.

"You're.." You were hesitant, but you took a step forward, bringing him to your embrace. You heard sniffles on your shoulder as he laid his forehead there while his arms remained by his side. He didn't know where to place them.

"Don't cry, you big baby." You murmur, your tears slipping out for God knows how many times today. "I'm gonna come back, you know that." You assured him. His hands finally moved to your back, gripping your shirt as he nodded.

You two stayed that way for a few minutes before his gaze lingered at you, "Promise me you will." Sieun lowly spoke with trembling lips. You exhaled from your nose, bringing his hand close to your chest as you do the same, then interlocked both of your pinkies.

"I promise you, more than anything."

Sieun was 13 when you left South Korea.

—

Three years had passed by as Sieun faced everything alone.

The problems, the bullying, the guilt—

Suho.

Every step he took felt like he was getting pulled down further and further away from the light he once saw.

From Suho, and most especially from you.

What would you think of him if you knew what was happening in his life right now?

He got his answer when he saw you.

You.

Your figure stood patiently outside his apartment door, a plastic bag containing all the snacks you used to share together was held loosely in one hand and your phone on the other.

Your appearance had completely changed. Your hair grew a bit longer, and the baby fat on your cheeks now reduced. You looked different, but deep down, Sieun hoped you were the still the happy-go-lucky girl he knew.

As you raised your phone to your ear, you check your left. You paused as the phone of the boy you were waiting for rang loudly in the pocket of his jacket.

The two of you stared at one another as the ringing continued, you, however, smiled knowingly at him.

"I kept my promise."

Sieun couldn't believe he could run that fast when he brought you into his arms.

Slowly, the chaos in his mind went silent.

Finally, for once. He was at peace.

Momentarily, he realized he was crying because you had to wipe the tears away, "I know," You still told him in a caring tone. "I'm here."

No other words were needed as you both remained in each other's arms for a while that day.

A few days had gone by rather quickly, and you started to see more of Sieun. He had grown taller since the last time you saw him, his voice was deeper from the timid, high-pitched one you always heard, and his eyes that used to shine at you were now dull as an unsharpened knife.

Regardless, something else had brought your attention—his walls that broke down when you met him was building itself up again. He became distant. The Sieun you cherished was back in his little shell, the one who refused help and locked himself away from people. You knew you had to pull him out.

So you were present, just like before. In every visit at Suho's hospital, you sat beside him when he typed out his messages; in every school he got rejected to, you had a list of backup schools he can apply for; in every night he had nightmares, you were only a call away; in every session at therapy, you were there outside, waiting.

Despite all the hardships and troubles he was facing, you smiled warmly at him.

He never understood any of it. It resembled the times when you were kids. Where you stayed with him more than anyone else.

How can you, someone so beautiful, still smile adoringly at something so broken, with its pieces gradually falling apart?

One time at the bus stop, it was extremely cold when the rain poured heavily around you.

Even as you laughed at a sarcastic comment he made about freezing to death, you still took his cold hands to yours, blowing on it. "What are you doing?" He questioned, startled as he tried to withdraw his hands.

"Keeping you warm, dummy."

You were glowing, and you gaze at him with the same loving grin. His heart fluttered, feeling his frigid fingers soften and warm up because of you.

He pretended not to know if the cause of his face and ears going red was also you.

You never complained and never rushed. You were there, patient and supportive.

Soon, he thought of himself from a few years ago. Whatever 13-year-old Sieun had realized when you went abroad, he was right.

Because he loved you. For the longest time.

And he was not going to let you go.

Just before the day he would move to the new apartment in Yeongdeungpo, where he was accepted in a school named Eunjang High, he knocked on your door, with your favorite food and drink.

"Wow! Is this your goodbye gift?" You teased him, taking the bag from his hand as you let him inside.

He wordlessly sat down when you invited him to the couch, you tilt your head. When Sieun was quiet, he had something in his mind. There was a sparkle of certainty in his puppy-look eyes as he stared at you.

"You okay, pretty boy?" The nickname was familiar, you always called him that ever since your playground hangouts. He often tells you to stop calling him that—but you couldn't, not when you notice his ears getting red and his lips that tries to refrain himself from smiling.

Crap. What was he going to say again? He made efforts to practice in front of the mirror only for it to fail at the moment he needed his words.

To you, it looked like he was struggling. It worried you.

You took the guts to place a hand on his cheek, fixating his focus on you. "Sieun, what's going on—"

"I love you."

You let out a surprised sound, your eyes wide at the sudden words.

You felt a sense of rushing emotions inside you. Was it excitement, shock, or bashfulness?

Whatever it was, you were just sure it was making your face hot.

Okay. That was straightforward.

But it was Yeon Sieun, the boy who always had a sure answer.

You pinch his cheek lightly, he squinted his eyes at you as if it could help his ruddy ears from turning back to its original color. "Hey, are you crazy?! Why are you saying such things?" You asked just so you can lighten up the conversation.

"Because I do. I love you." He calmly told you again, the three magic words made you cover your face. "Okay, okay! I get it." You were embarrassed, could he not act so nonchalant?! You were freaking out here!

"Is it.. bad?" Sieun mumbled, watching as you grumble something in your hands, somewhere along the lines of: "Curse the cold-blooded veins in your body!" You looked at him, red faced and pouted. "No, of course not! It's just that..."

You trailed off, finding the strength to face him again and held his cold hands in your warm ones. "I.. I love you, too. Since forever." You breathed out, smiling shakily at him.

Were you a Goddess? Sieun thought. How could you look so beautiful?

He leaned to you, initiating first. "Can I kiss you?" He asks in a deep voice, pulling your hands.

You gulped nervously, nodding as no words could come out of your mouth.

He moved, closer and closer, until your noses touched and the two of you closed your eyes. The world around you stopped moving when his lips gently settled on yours.

Sieun was 16 when he kissed his first love.

[jaggedamethyst]

my faves reactions to you wearing a slightly too short shirt at home

saw myself in the mirror and realized i was wearing my pants and shirt so much more comfortably than i would if i went outside and despite me being self conscious of my stomach it was kinda cute and gave domestic vibes so here’s a few of my favorite guys seeing you in comfy pajamas…i also might have a type…

18+ mdni, smut and references, gn!reader

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

bucky barnes

bucky’s so into your chest it’s unreal. at the sight of your pants hanging just that bit lower, he realizes he has access to the skin lingering just below where he loves to touch you most. its undoubtedly where you love for him to pay most attention to, too.

you’ll feel his hands lingering up your chest before you even realize he's there. you’d anchor yourself on a nearby counter as he downright fondles you, fingers slipping in as he teases your nipples between his fingers. he’s a bit insatiable, greedy really. bucky would let his flash hand rest on your waist eventually, deciding that the feel of his metal fingers in your walls was enough for you for now. after a while, though, his hands would move in tandem. he’d find a pace that’d have you folded in front of him…and all because he couldn’t resist the slight peak of your skin.

jayce talis

jayce is already in your lap when he realizes your shirt is a bit shorter, pants resting lower than normal when he’s cuddled up here. he's observant that way…easily acknowledging the subtle changes you make even when you dont realize them yourself.

it’s how he noticed that you were a bit more sensitive today, riled up by what is usually quite innocent touches around your hips. the pads of his fingers ignited a flame in you that had you writing, almost begging him to oblige your crave for him. he would, always would.

it wouldn’t be long before he’s slid your pants down and kneeled in front of you, absolutely devouring you with his mouth. he’s quite fond of resting in your lap, yes, but even more happy to unravel you with his tongue alone. it’s calculated and deliberate, his hands using your bared stomach for leverage as he pulls you into him. he loves the way you roll into his mouth…it only makes him want you more.

frank castle

frank castle is the epitome of loyal…so when he finally sees you again he’s so close to exploding already.

he’d stalk into your place after being gone for weeks, remaining stoic as best he could. he’d see your waist, though, your skin…and be gone. against his better judgment he’d already be on you, skipping any pleasantries and pushing for the sweetest talk that you undoubtedly missed.

he’d apologize profusely, slipping into you with little prep but needing it this way nonetheless. it’d be a quiet and rushed, “sorry, baby. just missed you.” the words blending together, also mixing with the now squelching sound of you two fucking each other. it’d be sweet still…franks hands tethered to your skin and rubbing away any ache you had.

joel miller

the first word out of joel’s mouth is a drawn out and gruff “darlin’…” it’s almost accusatory, that you know what you’re doing and exploiting his pure and unadulterated lust for you. he could almost loathe you…for making him anything less than the southern gentleman he attempts to be despite the trying times.

he’s quick to sit on the couch, legs spread and hardened length making itself known through his rough pants. his words are always laced with that southern drawl…one you’d grown to love and pine for when he wasn’t around. he’d motion you over with a quiet “come ‘ere,” rubbing the topside of his thigh.

he’d get comfortable, letting each of you fall into sync with one another…yet making note to grab your waist. he’d keep a single hand kneading into your side as he slipped his calloused fingers inside of you. joel is slow and generous, letting his grip roll you down into his other palm. he’s happy to do this, to be yours to use…yours however you’ll have him.

matt murdock

matt murdock is so sensory that he’d notice because of the way the air is moving around you…how the heat of your skin is no longer hidden by the fabric of a long shirt. he would perk up at that, the way you’re slightly exposed to him and all the more ready for him to latch on to.

matt would sneak up on you for sure, being able to sense your focus being elsewhere. you would immediately recognize his hands…softly rubbing at the exposed line of your stomach, and kissing your neck as he nestled behind you.

he’s usually one to make it sweet, facing you so as to have direct access to every reaction he’s drawing from you. this time, though, he can’t help but take you from the back…hands consistently rubbing into the soft skin at your waist while he has your entire body shaking. your whines would fall on drowned out ears…matt completely locked in on the feel of your supple skin.

full master list

[the-secretary-of-baker-street]

With A Heavy Heart

It takes writing The Beryl Coronet for Watson to realise, in 1893, that Holmes wasn’t coming back. Mary, not Sutherland from A Case of Identity, but another Holmes mirror nonetheless, escaped after committing a crime and was never found again. Watson attempts to ignore this implication as he renames another character yet again, but at this point, he can hardly help himself. His grief is overwhelming him, and now he can only see Holmes in everything. Of course, this leads to the publication of The Greek Interpreter, where another, more reclusive Holmes makes an appearance, at a time when Watson and Holmes were having slight problems with communication, like the kidnapped Paul Kratides (who only spoke Greek) and the other English speakers in the story.

But the world isn’t grieving Holmes like Watson is, not yet at least.

When another Moriarty (Watson never bothered to learn his name) begins to denounce Holmes in the papers, and news of the detective’s disappearance begins to reach England, Watson realises he has to finally announce that Holmes is dead. With a heavy heart, he picks up his pen to write Holmes’ final adventure, ignoring the piles upon piles of notes from other cases the world is not ready for. He remembers to write that Holmes had visited him in the house he shared with his ‘wife’, rather than Holmes returning to their home in Baker Street, in need of a doctor’s care or a partner’s love. Watson doesn’t divulge in too many details, skipping over the two days they spent in Brussels hiding in a hotel room together, with Holmes falsely reassuring Watson that all is well and he shouldn’t worry. Their ‘charming week’ in the Valley of Rhone also had to be forgotten, although Watson smiled at his memory of Holmes constantly vying to make the worried doctor laugh.

Watson changed Holmes’ note to him. He had to- it was too obvious. It can be supposed that the original note may have read like so:

My dear Watson, I write these few lines through the courtesy of Mr Moriarty, who awaits my convenience for the final discussion of those questions which lie between us. He has been giving me a sketch of the methods by which he avoided the English police and kept himself informed of our movements. They certainly confirm the very high opinion which I had formed of his abilities. I am pleased to think that I shall be able to free society from any further effects of his presence, though fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends, and especially, my dear Watson, to you. I have already explained to you, however, that my career had in any case reached its crisis and that no possible conclusion to it could be more congenial to me than this. Indeed, if I make a full confession to you, I was quite convinced the letter from Meiringen was a hoax, and I allowed you to depart on that errand under the persuasion that some development of this sort would follow. If I was to make an even fuller confession, I should add that I have never known happiness as much as I have known it with you, my dear boy. To live, to breathe, to die with you in my mind and my heart was the greatest pleasure I have ever and will ever know. I hope you will forgive me for this transgression; you should know that I took every pain to avoid it, but unfortunately an epilogue awaits us all, and love and light can not fight off the darkness for long. Please, dispose of this note as soon as you have read it, I would not wish any evil follow you as a result of your discovery. Pray give my greetings to Mrs Hudson, and believe me to be, my dear fellow, 

Very sincerely yours, and only yours, 

Sherlock Holmes

[vicedmuses]

the  hunter  was  no  longer  watching  the  fox  like  a  hawk.  that  was  a  good  thing.  for  one,  it  meant  that  he  didn't  view  him  as  a  threat  he  needed  to  worry  about.  probably  even  more  important,  he  didn't  want  to  study  him  for  the  beast  that  he  was.  they  were  getting  into  familiar  territory  as  was.

so  the  pat  was  just  that.  something  that  he  would  share  with  a  friend,  a  relative,  or  even  just  a  coworker.  not  something  intimate,  at  least  out  right,  but  enough  to  show  that  on  some  level,  he  trusted  the  man.

after  all,  he  was  getting  closer  and  closer  to  him  the  more  time  they  spent  together.  to  think,  his  sons  had  almost  killed  thiago.  what  a  bunch  of  idiots.  he  did  watch  the  man  carefully  when  he  was  trying  to  sniff  something  out.  not  to  write  it  down  in  his  journal,  at  least  not  entirely,  but  because  it  was  interesting.  this  was  the  kitsune  in  his  natural  habitat.  using  his  gifts  that  spanned  far  beyond  just  human. 

he  loved  seeing  someone  at  work.

it  allowed  him  to  get  to  know  them  in  a  better  way.  now  when  abel  would  be  watching  him  in  the  future,  he  would  know  that  when  his  head  lowered  he  was  concentrating.  interesting.  when  the  hunter  did  so,  even  now,  he  jutted  his  chin  out  and  straightened  out  his  back.  like  he  wanted  to  take  up  more  space.

after  a  short  while,  he  was  distracted  just  by  looking  at  the  other  man.  he  almost  forgot  that  they  were  on  a  hunt.  that  there  was  a  reason  why  thiago  was  focusing  hard  on  something.  a  command  that  he  had  given  the  other  nonetheless.  abel  found  himself  clearing  his  throat,  hoping  that  it  was  a  way  to  help  him  concentrate  some  more.  he  glanced  down  at  the  ground  where  the  heavy  boots  had  previously  stood.

fascinating,  but  it  wasn't  the  moment  to  sit  in  pure  awe  or  wonder  at  what  the  fox  was  capable  of.  “thank  you  for  clearing  up  that  they're  not  like  mine.  probably  not  my  sons  either  in  that  case.  or  any  other  hunter.”  he  thought  back  to  the  boots  he  would  see  his  previous  coworkers  wear.  yeah,  those  of  their  line  of  duty  normally  had  the  same  unofficial  uniform.

so  when  he  got  the  confirmation  that  whoever  it  was  wasn't  just  human,  that  was  good.  “we're  onto  something.  you  see,  my  sons  just  didn't  know  what  a  good  boy  you  would  be.”  he  snickered  softly,  trying  to  lighten  the  intensity  that  he  felt  in  the  air.  “i  think  you  did  good.” 

not  like  he  would  be  able  to  confirm  or  deny.  another  dry  chuckle.  “you  want  me  to  come  in  guns  blazing?”  still,  he  took  out  a  silver  knife  and  tucked  it  on  the  inside  of  his  coat  pocket.  he  loaded  up  a  handgun  and  kept  it  tucked  at  the  holster,  right  hand  stayed  on  the  handle.  “i'm  ready  if  you  are.” 

the  pat  startled  him.  it  wasn’t  harsh,  not  even  particularly  firm,  but  it  landed  with  more  weight  than  it  should’ve.  it  was  the  familiarity  of  it—like  they’d  done  this  before.  like  they  were  partners.  he  didn’t  flinch  visibly,  just  blinked  once  and  kept  his  shoulders  stiff  until  the  warmth  faded  from  his  back.

he  stood  there  a  second  longer  than  he  needed  to.  hands  in  his  pockets,  heartbeat  too  loud  in  his  ears.  this  was  where  he  could  mess  it  all  up—where  he  could  prove  he  wasn’t  useful.  but  he  couldn’t  afford  that.  not  here.  not  with  him.

so  he  took  a  breath.  then  another.  and  when  he  exhaled,  he  let  himself  sink  into  instinct.  his  fingers  curled  tighter  in  the  pockets  of  his  pants,  head  lowering  just  slightly.  the  street  noise  dulled  in  his  mind,  fading  to  something  distant.  beneath  the  knit  of  his  beanie,  his  ears  shifted—twitching  once,  flattening  down  to  brace  against  sound.  a  small  movement  no  one  could  see,  but  he  felt  it.  a  quiet  switch  flip  in  his  body.

"okay,"  he  said,  more  focused  now.

the  air  was  thick  with  overlapping  trails—grease  and  pavement,  engine  oil,  trash  that  hadn’t  been  collected,  sweat  from  passing  bodies.  too  much.  but  he  filtered  through  it,  moving  slowly  toward  the  curb.  he  crouched  near  a  post  where  something  lingered—faint,  but  distinct.  not  recent,  not  clean.  wrong  in  a  way  that  turned  in  his  gut.

there  were  scents  everywhere.  asphalt  and  gas  fumes  and  old,  sticky  soda  drying  in  the  heat.  hot  dog  water  and  cigarette  smoke.  fast  food  wrappers  in  the  gutter  and  traces  of  strangers'  perfume,  sharp  and  sweet  and  bitter  all  at  once.  his  nose  twitched.  none  of  it  helpful.  he  took  a  few  careful  steps  forward,  his  shoulders  still  tight,  drawn  in  like  he  was  trying  to  make  himself  smaller.  he  tilted  his  head,  breathed  in  deeper,  filtering  through  the  static.

“there’s  a  lot.  but…  i  think…”  he  took  a  few  more  steps,  paused  near  a  lamppost  and  crouched  beside  the  curb,  sniffing  again.  the  scent  wasn’t  strong,  but  something  about  it  stuck.  not  the  kind  of  thing  you’d  notice  unless  you  knew  to  look.  “here.  someone  stood  here  for  a  while.  heavy  boots,  i  think.  not  like  yours.  smells  like…  ash.  and  something  sharp.  bitter.”

his  hand  hovered  over  the  spot  like  that  might  help  him  explain  it  better.  “not  human.  not  just  human,  i  mean.  it’s  old  though—could  be  nothing.  or…  could  be  them.”  he  looked  back  over  his  shoulder,  brows  slightly  lifted,  half-expecting  to  be  told  he  was  wrong.  that  it  was  useless.  instead,  he  added,  quieter  “i’m  still  figuring  it  out.  umm...”

something  in  his  chest  swelled  anyway.  he  found  something.  his  head  turned,  following  the  way  the  scent  curled  forward  like  a  trail  barely  left  behind.  he  pointed  across  the  street,  toward  a  narrow  alley  just  a  block  off  the  main  road.  “they  went  that  way.  i  dunno  if  you  wanna  pull  your  gun  out  or…”  he  gestured  as  he  spoke,  hands  forming  a  pistol  raised  in  front  of  him.

[dayurno]

who up wanting to. cook kevin day delicious chicken and veggies curry

[starry-bi-sky]

danyal al ghul memes because i don't think i've done those yet for this au.

(the jason one is in reference to the fanon headcanon/au that Jason and Damian potentially knew each other and interacted while jason was in the league. I've thought about it before in context of this au, but haven't thought about it enough to feel inspired or motivated to make a post exploring the idea)

(diablito means, as you can guess, 'little devil'. while i'm neutral to latino jason, i think the nickname is cute as fuck and was danny's main nickname from Jason. i don't wanna touch that timeline so im not gonna decide how old they were when Jason was there.)

Skulker: i am the ghost zone's greatest hunter! i capture and hunt creatures both rare and dangerous. Danyal: a poacher?? you're a poacher?? you poach animals??Skulker:...i sense i've made a mistake of some kind.

anyways that was the day that Skulker cemented himself as Danny's no.1 opp, and still remains there to this day even if he and Vlad are both viciously fighting for second. Out of everyone in the the AP rogues gallery, Skulker will be the first to be thrown under the bus in terms of 'o shit here comes phantom fucking RUN'.

[reddevilmcnt]

Slade recognized the very moment Harper's voice changed; only, he had no idea where the sudden strain of emotion was coming from, as though a nervous lump had formed in his throat. Followed by more of his looking down and away at anything that wasn't Slade------------ more tiny traces of visibly rattled behavior that cut away at the illusion of Harper's typical mask of poise and sensual charisma. Now, Slade had already known that Harper was more... complicated than he usually let on, and it was why, initially, Slade had no interest in dipping into Harper's world. The boy was clearly surrounded by individuals who provoked a lot of negative or fake behaviors out of him; they weren't good for him but it also wasn't Slade's place to tell him that.

Nonetheless... it makes sense why a lot of that falls apart when he's in Slade's presence, and he becomes a real boy with real wants, needs, and fears-------------- because Slade's very much a real man who doesn't require, or even desire, any of the shallow pretenses. But watching Harp start to express his feelings was always a bit of a shock to Slade's system, as he took in Harper awkwardly trying and glancing away and slightly fumbling. He wants Slade to take care of him?

"Baby, I-------------" I'm trying to.

Something within Slade wanted to understand, yet he remembered again that it was just the treacherous impulses of his heart again. The very useless thing that would have him longing for someone who was never going to actually love him back, and he shouldn't be letting that bedroom passion keep leaking into everything else they did together.

He's taken off guard by Harper standing with him, falling back into his seduction that will never not work on Slade, but that also wasn't totally necessary. With a roguish, irresistible soft smile that trickled tenderness up to his entire gaze, Slade merely reached up to scrub his thumb along Harper's cheekbone. A moment goes by as he tilts his head, tries to read Harper a bit more.

"I need you, too. So let's clean up and get ready for bed, yeah?" It's his gentle way of encouraging Harper along, because where Harper was physically spent, Slade was emotionally drained and ready to just hold Harp in his arms for the rest of the night. Soft affection that he didn't seek out very often, though he craved it now, and maybe, just maybe, that was some of where Harper's clinginess was coming from, too. A clingy Harper wasn't necessarily one he didn't like; it was new and refreshing and, deep down, Slade suspected that he could spend the rest of his lifetime wanting Harper's touch and never grow tired of it.

After they got out together, the big man focused on gathering up his dirty clothes, wallet, and keys, then slipped into something clean----------- a snug v-neck shirt and loose-fitting athletic pants that he must've forgotten over here a long time ago thanks to another desperate tryst. He did wonder, in the back of his mind, how many of his hoodies had Harper stolen too, but he wasn't going to press him to give anything back. That Harper wanted any lingering memories of Slade at all was... interesting.

He wandered out of the room and into the kitchen while Harp was still fixing up the bed, just to see about grabbing some water and food, when he'd tugged open the fridge to see not very much packed inside. Okay, not terribly surprising; Harper lived alone and might not be concerned with always keeping the place stocked up for other people. But it did make Slade want to cook something for him, and just ensure that he had access to properly nutritious food in general. ...Not trying to control Harper, but it was in Slade's culture to make sure that loved ones were eating.

Loved ones.

Shaking off the thought, Slade goes to slip on his shoes by the door, and heads out to the night market around the block. They were a bit far from Slade's own house, as he preferred living in the outskirts of the city, but he knew this neighborhood thanks to all of his, uh... late night travels over. He spends about thirty minutes getting there and back, reentering the unlocked apartment by shouldering open the door with a grocery bag in each hand. Thinks he'll make maybe a couple of beef and veggie bowls and...

"Hey," smiles stunningly in Harp's direction as he makes it back into the kitchen, "I felt like cooking so I went out to the store really quick." But then------------- he turns to Harper, shortly realizing that he'd probably thought the worst about him. ...Not that Slade believed it was too big of a deal, or that Harp cared that much, but he still reached out for him, sweetly grasping for Harp's chin to steer the boy towards looking him in the eyes again. "Aw. Thought I disappeared on ya?"

Harper was surprised at just how good the man was at massaging his feet. He relaxed back and let out an eager groan as he was touched by the man. Those hands which had left him bruised and unable to move now were taking care of him and helping him relax and recoup. How Slade could manage to be both so brutal and so kind confused Harper, but at this moment he was just enjoying it. All that he wanted was to feel safe and comfortable and Slade was doing all the right things to keep him properly subdued. Harper felt calm and lazy like he could rest in this moment for hours without being disrupted. It was a sense of safety he wasn't entirely used to.

"All the credit? Wow. Someone's pretty cocky." Of course, the other wasn't wrong. It had been the feeling of being broken down so completely that had him feeling relaxed in this moment. He gently sank deeper into the tub, letting the water come up past his chin as he soaked himself completely, clouds of bubbles surrounding him and obscuring the coy smirk on his lips.

Are you going to be okay getting out by yourself?

It's an innocuous question, innocent and purely just Slade checking in on him. But Harper's mind, ever anxious and self-destructive, can't help but hear some hidden meaning. Did Harper think Slade was about to stand up and leave this instant? No. Did his brain start to panic at the thought alone? Almost instantly. He does his best to stay cool, focusing on the massage to his feet instead of his racing thoughts. Slade said he didn't have to leave until morning. Harper didn't need to worry. But then again, what if Slade's anger came back? What if he left for good this time? What if, no matter what he did, Harper wasn't enough?

Dipping beneath the water for just a moment, Harper took a moment, desperately trying to calm his mind down. He sat back up, using water from the faucet to clean his face of any soap before he finally opened his eyes back up, looking at Slade with a hard to decipher stare.

"No."

There was a tightness to his response like he was choking it out. It was a lie, the warm bath and kind hands having helped Harper regain his senses and control over his legs. He wasn't even sure what the point of the lie was. To force Slade into helping him? To guilt him into staying longer? There was only a few moments before he followed himself up. "Or, yes but--" He looked to the side, unsure what he was even doing at this point. "I want you to take care of me." He couldn't look at Slade as he made his confession. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things, but the pure act of trying to be honest was out of character for Harper.

Noticing how the other was looking around, Harper easily guessed what the man was looking for. "There are extra towels under the sink. I have some clothes you left in my closet." He shrugged, acting like it was casual and meant nothing that he kept the other's clothes and had them cleaned and put away. Maybe it did mean nothing. Who knew why Harper did half the things that he did.

Finally looking back towards the other, Harper tilted his head. Was that true? Part of him wanted to ask, but he decided to bite back the question. Why bother asking a question when he couldn't handle the answer? He took a moment before slowly standing up himself. Despite his admission, he couldn't sit still any longer. He removed the plug from the drain, the water in his bath quickly emptying. "I need you right now, daddy." It was a dangerous game to play, his body was already pushed to its limit. But this was the one way he knew to make sure Slade kept wanting him and, in his insecurity, he was willing to do anything it took to prove to himself that this wasn't going to suddenly be over when the sun rose and Slade came to his senses.

[legend-had-it]

a sanji that takes care of zoros swords when he cannot

and a zoro who cooks food for the crew when sanji can't

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Unlucky Tug's season 13 & Hero of the Rails Retrospective video got me thinking about Spencer... As a character we really don't have much on him do we? (Which is ironically fitting since he's a private engine)

Come to think of it, most of what we know of Spencer are a handful of crumbs you can count off your fingers (that he's proud of being a speedster, that he enjoys his work as a private engine, that he's not overly fond of Sodor's engines, etc...), and just a few personality traits you can parse from watching how he interacts with others (which often amounts to him being a pompous jerk who cares more about his status than actually behaving in a way that upholds that status with grace). Other than that, we don't really know who he is or what he did before he became the Duke and Duchess of Boxford's privately owned engine...

Sure, he's an A4 Pacific but... Is he meant to be a specific one?

Every engine in the railway series and the tv shows has a proper basis one can refer to. Even if some of them are fictional members of a specific line of engines or heavily altered (Gordon as his class's imperfect but no less endearing prototype, Edward being a surviving member of his class despite all of the Larger Seagulls having been scrapped in actuality, James being a custom fleshed out in the series, and Henry being a personification of one class configuration being rebuilt into another, etc...the list is never ending here!) they still have a concrete basis you can look at and equate them to.

With that in mind... Is Spencer supposed to be one of the Silvers? The first batch of A4s that pulled the Silver Jubelee and didn't escape scrapping? If so, is he meant to be a fifth fictional member of the Silvers or is he actually one of them under a new identity?

I've seen the latter idea being toyed with a lot (and I do vibe with it because second chances at life freaking slap as a character arc!), but the former idea... The one where maybe he's a secret fifth member that was never really in prominence compared to his older siblings (overlooked and ignored)... It also does seem fitting doesn't it?

Especially considering none of his fellow Silvers survived.

What I'm getting at, is that Spencer strikes me as someone who's deeply insecure to the point he'll latch onto what he thinks is his (his status for example), and protects it with such jealous ferocity that it makes him a very difficult engine to get along with.

If he were one of the Silvers who somehow miraculously got bought by the Duke and Duchess of Boxford when he was going to be scrapped, it definitely makes sense why he tries to seem like he's more than he really is. Making himself out to be important would ensure he continues to remain useful enough that he won't see the cutter's torch so soon...

But it also makes him a potentially very unstable and volatile individual if he gets it in his funnel that someone is threatening his position/existence. Literally anything minor can be blown out of proportion. Including something as harmless as a cheeky little tank engine trying to show him up, and humiliating him in front of his lifeline...

Because trying to get a fellow steam engine scrapped due to a wounded ego is DEFINITELY a disproportional response to his petty squabble with Thomas. And his later reaction when Hiro rescues him shows this too. If Spencer were that much of a jerk that he is all for getting someone else scrapped, he wouldn't have changed his mind so easily.

Spencer's lack of a backstory not only bothers me, it also makes his behavior all that much more interesting to study under a microscope... Just what did he go through that THAT was the only way he thought was appropriate to get back at Thomas? Especially when later it becomes very apparent he didn't mean it...

Who were you Spencer? What did you see?