#he draws them good and writes them good and can even develop a few of them good

[its-always-nightshift]

This is the official design of Sun for my Theater AU!! I love him so much and I honestly need to draw him more. He’s so character.

Click for more information about the AU:

What is the Theater AU?

A fic currently in the works which takes canon Sun & Moon and plays with the concept of them being theater bots before being transferred (unwillingly) to the daycare! Half of the story revolves around when they were theater bots, and the other half is about the daycare. The drawing above is Sun when he was a theater bot! Sun in the daycare looks very close to canon in design with a few different details. And by theater, I mean they had some very cool acts. Moon has my favorite performance in the story so far.

Is there a y/n for the Theater AU?

No, you follow along the story of a nonbinary oc named Roy who dabbles in software engineering. You can, however, imagine that Roy is the pizzaplex’s nickname for y/n and pretend as such! Either way is fine by me, but the fic will be tagged as oc insert.

Have you written any chapters/made any art for the Theater AU yet?

Very few, but that’s only because I have to wait until summer to flesh it out properly. I do, however, have many bullet points for the storyline written down already as well as a couple of snippets and have a very good idea of how I want the fic to play out.

What kind of personality does Roy have?

Roy is a very down-to-earth, analytical, logic-oriented type of person. Roy has a lot of patience and I think Sun sometimes needs that kind of patience because of his jitteriness and overall bouncy personality. They’ve known the boys for a while and always took an interest in the way they work. They might even be the reason Roy went into software development and specialized in AI.

Can I use your art/writing for AI?

Absolutely not. That is not what AI should be used for. Thank you for your cooperation.

How technical will the fic be?

I want to mix my own experience as a computer scientist into the story a little while also making the explanations easy enough for anyone to enjoy and maybe find their own technical passion out of it. I will still mention some fun comp sci technical jargon for the purpose of enunciating Roy’s professionalism. On the robotics side, my own experience lacks, but I will try my best to get as accurate as I can by studying the canon boys.

Does Roy get to smooch the boys?

I’m still debating this, honestly! Maybe in some sequel story or side-comics, but the main fic is meant to focus on the characterization of Sun & Moon, so we’ll see. The boys can’t move their faces similarly to canon, but they would happily accept a smooch on the cheek.

Who do you like more, Sun or Moon?

Oh boy, I love them both! Moon is very scary and I’d never go back to that level in security breach if I can avoid it, but he makes for such a funky character full of potential storytelling. Sun is definitely my favorite of the two though. When I tell friends about a fic I’ve recently read from any of the fantastic DCA stories, I always ramble about how Sun’s character was written whether it was sunhinged, emotionally haunting, or absolutely sweet! When I played Help Wanted 2 I was overjoyed by his character. He deserves to be a little sassy sometimes, as a treat. It is no different in the Theater AU; he has his sassy and sweet moments.

Moon’s design I am still working on, so keep an eye out for him!! Also let me know if you take an interest in my boys by asking questions about them! It helps me find their personalities better and inspires me to do more. Thanks for reading!

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Octavian, you/reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere, wrist massage, wrist pain, slightly infantilizing behavior

WORD COUNT: 983

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a commission! Thank you to the commissioner! I enjoyed writing this! <3

Almost immediately does Octavian notice something off about you; you wince when picking things up, you rub your own wrists a lot. When he questions you about this, however, you seem adamant that everything is fine and there isn't an issue that needs addressing. This response alone raises every alarm inside of his head.

Of course, he doesn't allow this behavior to continue for very long at all, giving you time to maybe come to him and finally say something. But you don't, and his concern for you begins to overwhelm any sort of patience he has left in him.

His last straw is when he sees you rubbing at your wrists and groaning to yourself while doing so. That sound- such a pained expression makes him wince as though the pain had been inflicted upon him instead of you.

No longer is it acceptable for you to be dealing with this alone.

"Why haven't you said anything?" he demands quietly, the tension evident within his tone. There's anger and frustration, but it's not aimed towards you; rather, it's aimed at your suffering. "I thought you'd come to me if you're in pain, but I'm tired of just watching you suffer. Tell me what's wrong, (Y/n)."

It's very rare for him to pull out the stern voice, the parental one that leaves no room for disagreement or argument.

You go silent, unsure what to say.

He takes your hands into his, gently as if you're made of fragile glass. You don't pull away when he lifts up your sleeves, like he's expecting to see something horrific, only to see nothing.

Octavian softly squeezes your wrists, clicking his tongue when realizing the issue: they're swollen. He could feel it by applying only the slightest amount of pressure.

"What have you been doing?" Octavian murmurs. He takes off his gloves and gently touches where he squeezed moments earlier. His fingers are cold, yet it's soothing.

"Copies of scrolls," you murmur with a shrug. "Lots of them, lately."

"You know better than that."

"I can handle it..."

Your words earn a sigh from him as he stands. As he disappears upstairs for a brief moment, you fiddle around with some papers, feeling a bit nervous. This must've been the longest you've gone without telling him about any discomfort. Not like you can go long, he usually notices right away.

"Give me your hands," Octavian says after a few minutes, reappearing with a bottle of something you don't recognize and a bowl.

"...what for?" you ask, drawing your hands towards your chest defensively.

"I promise, I'm not hungry for hands," he chuckles softly. "Just let your Papa take care of you?" He holds one of his own hands out towards you, palm up.

Your gaze shifts to his open palm before you relent and slowly reach out both of your hands, earning a pleased hum from the older vampire who then takes the bowl, sitting in front of you.

Octavian pours the bottle over the water that's already inside of the bowl, swirling it around so that the contents mix thoroughly.

"What's that?" you ask.

"A balm that works wonders for your poor wrist." The mixture smells herbal, almost minty but stronger than that. Not too strong to become overwhelming, but it's definitely potent. "I've been alive long enough to make quite a few handy recipes like this one. When I was still human, I had a lot of bad chronic pain in my wrists."

"And that went away with being a vampire?"

He shakes his head. "Sadly not, but I did develop a good way to alleviate the pain whenever it flares up, so it's much more manageable. The super strength that comes with being a vampire did also do wonders too, even if it didn't necessarily cure it."

Gently does Octavian hold your hand in his while the other dips into the cool water, just warm enough for comfort, and slowly swirls around. The mixture itself gives a slight tingling sensation at first touch, cooling further.

Octavian is silent while he repeats this process on your other hand, looking pensive while he massages them. You notice that, despite the intensity in his expression, his movements remain as delicate as ever; he rubs and rolls your joints ever so gently while holding your palm between both of his hands, making sure that every part of your hands and wrists receive thorough care.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally asks after several quiet minutes of the massage. When he looks up at you, you see pain in his eyes.

It almost makes you feel guilty.

You shrug. "I'm not a baby, feels weird if I go whining to you about something this small."

"But you are my baby," Octavian responds firmly. "And I'd prefer to know these things so I can help you, whether its a paper cut, or a broken bone." He pauses. "Extra emphasis on a broken bone, though."

He smiles warmly, watching how you return his smile before turning back towards his work. By now the numbing has begun, taking full effect to leave only a weak, tingling sensation in your hand and wrist.

For a few more minutes he continues massaging your wrists, kneading the skin carefully until he feels that they're both satisfied. He pulls out a roll of bandages, carefully wrapping one around your wrist until the end is secured with a clip.

"Aaaaand there we go," he coos, kissing the top of your hand. "Better?"

"Much better..." you murmur with a nod, smiling. "Thanks."

"You don't need to thank me, sweetheart. Just promise you'll come to me next time, okay?"

"Okay," you hum. "I promise."

"Good. Oh, and you're taking a break from writing." You open your mouth to argue, but he wags a finger in front of you. "Ah-ah! No arguing, Papa knows best."

[rosenclaws]

Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

-

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

-

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

[pascalispretty]

the feeling is mutual

Sonny Carisi x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags: pining, idiots in love, cowgirl sex, Sonny's praise kink, only one bed trope

Summary: You've had a crush on your colleague for years. You go to a work conference with him, and fate fucks with you by making sure you get a room with just the one bed.

A/N: Soooooooo I started working on this back in October 2022, at the request of the lovely @misscharlielulu. Life intervened, and I kinda got the writing yips, but when I saw that @storiesofsvu's bingo had an 'Only One Bed' square I was determined to finish it. Unbeta'd like whoa, so please be gentle! (ao3).

You should have been suspicious of Benson’s offer to send you to the conference from the beginning. It had been presented to you nicely enough - a long weekend in Boston, paid for by the department so you could attend the Conference on Crimes Against Women. It hadn’t taken much persuading to get you to agree to go, especially when you found out Carisi was also going. 

That was before the drive from hell. The two of you had left as soon as you finished work for the day, only to almost immediately hit nasty traffic. What should have been a four-hour journey had taken almost seven thanks to an accident just past the Connecticut state line. After swapping driver duties with Sonny somewhere outside of Hartford, you’d found your eyelids starting to get heavy, but had resolved to stay awake. It wasn’t fair to Carisi for you to sleep while he drove. 

You have no idea how long you’ve been dozing when a gentle nudge to your arm wakes you. 

“Hey, I think we’re finally here,” Sonny says as you rub your eyes. So much for not sleeping. You’re relieved to see that he’s pulling into the parking garage below the hotel, but it's short-lived.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You roll your neck, wincing at the crick that’s developed from resting your head on the window. 

“It’s fine, I figured you could use it. The Spellman case has us all working late.” He’s right; the case was drawing plenty of media attention, and you’d all been racking up plenty of OT trying to solve it. The two of you had spent part of the drive debating it, and whether there was a way to get the stupid, invasive podcast taken down. 

You both grab your bags and make your way to the elevator. Pressing the button for the lobby, you try and fail to suppress a yawn. 

“Sorry,” you apologise again. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night’s sleep.” 

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up and actually felt rested,” Carisi says lightly, giving you a soft, understanding smile. You try not to think too deeply about the way it makes your stomach twist - or, for that matter, how good he looks in his new camel coat.  

“Tell me about it,” you groan. The elevator spills the two of you out into a deserted lobby, and you do a double-take when you look out of the enormous windows at the front of the building. 

“Oh, yeah. It started snowing about an hour ago,” Sonny says, cutting himself off with a yawn.  Outside, the snow is coming down thick and fast, already sticking to the ground. You can just about see the glow of a few headlights, but beyond that, the world has turned to a soft dove grey. 

There’s a harried-looking woman behind the concierge desk; the Conference attracts cops from all over the country, you wouldn’t be surprised if the hotel was booked out by the various agencies and precincts. 

“Hi, we have two rooms booked for us. Should be under the name Benson?” Sonny asks the concierge, searching on his phone for the confirmation email Liv had forwarded to you both. The concierge types something on the computer sitting on her desk and frowns. 

“I got one room under that name. Any other name you might have used?” 

“No, Liv definitely said she booked them under her name,” you tell her, glancing at Sonny as he turns his phone to show the woman behind the desk. 

“Our Lieutenant definitely booked us two rooms, look,” Sonny tries, and the two of you exchange a frown. The concierge scans the email, then her own screen again. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. The system only has one booking under Benson. It’s the only room left in the hotel; we’re booked solid because of this conference.” You and Sonny exchange another look. 

“I mean - I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” You tug your lower lip between your teeth, trying to think of another solution that doesn’t involve sharing a bedroom with the colleague you have a very inappropriate crush on. Sonny taps his fingers on the desk and looks again at the concierge as though he’s hoping she’ll be able to conjure another room out of nowhere. 

“I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He sounds so earnest, and you want to pinch his cheeks and tell him he could never, but instead you shrug. 

“It’s fine, you won’t. Unless you snore, or sleepwalk or something,” you tease, and he grins. 

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he says, turning back to the concierge. Is it your imagination, or is he blushing slightly? “Can we get the keys, please?” The woman looks relieved that the two of you have resolved the situation between yourselves, and seemingly can’t press the keycards into your hands fast enough. 

“You’re in 2342; take the elevator to the fourth floor and turn right.” The two of you thank her and pick your bags up again. 

“Should we say something to the Lieutenant?” You offer as the two of you make your way upstairs. “She might be getting charged for both rooms or something.” 

“Yeah, probably. Maybe the hotel thought she meant two beds, not two rooms?” Sonny runs a hand through his hair; the product’s grip on his greying locks has relaxed, leaving it looking soft and touchable. 

“Maybe,” you say distractedly, stopping in front of door 2342. “I think this is us.” You try the keycard and are relieved when the light on the lock turns green. 

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get some sleep.” Carisi takes your bag as you push open the door, and you smile quickly at him over your shoulder. 

“Oh no, the feeling is definitely mutual. I feel like I could sleep for a week-” You abruptly cut yourself off when you turn the light on and get a glimpse of the room. It’s a perfectly nice room–if anything slightly nicer than what you had been expecting on the department’s dime. It’s decently sized, with large windows and a flatscreen on the wall. There’s even a comfy-looking overstuffed armchair by one of the windows. 

The only problem is that there’s only one bed. 

Your cheeks burn as you realise your mistake. You had assumed that the hotel had accidentally put you in one room with two beds, instead of two rooms with one bed each. 

“Oh shit, Carisi, I’m sorry-” You start, walking deeper into the room so he has space to enter behind you and see what the problem is. The door clicks closed behind him, and you swallow thickly. 

“Oh. Uh-” he rakes his hand through his hair again. “You take the room. I’ll find somewhere else.” He offers, but you’re already shaking your head. 

“Where? The concierge said they were full, and there’s no way you can get a decent room on this short notice.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth again, trying to walk the fine line between sounding considerate and desperate. As much as the thought of sharing a bed with Carisi makes you panic, you don’t want to kick him out into the cold. 

“No, it’s fine. I can sleep in the car if I can’t find anywhere; I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” It’s so characteristically sweet that you roll your eyes. Crossing over to the window, you pull the drapes aside just enough to see the snow still falling thick and fast outside. 

“You are not sleeping in your car in a blizzard, Carisi. It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the armchair.” You grab a pillow from the bed before he can argue and throw it towards the chair. “Crank the thermostat up and lend me a blanket from the bed, and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not letting you sleep in a chair,” he says, though he does move over to the thermostat to change it. “I’ll take the chair.”

“You’re like seven feet tall, there’s no way you’re sleeping in the chair.” 

“I’m six foot even, and a night sleeping there won’t kill me. In the morning, I’ll look for a room in a different hotel or something.” You open your mouth to argue with him again, but he cuts you off. “You’re not changing my mind. I have three sisters, I know how to be stubborn.” 

“Fine. Better than you trying to drive around in this storm, as tired as you are.” You throw your hands up in exaggerated defeat, before starting to tug one of the sheets off the bed. Carisi moves to the other side of the bed to help you, stripping the top sheet off and tossing it onto the armchair. 

“You wanna use the bathroom first?” Your bags are still sitting by the door, and you pick up your overnight bag and set it on the bed. For a brief moment you panic as you start to unzip it; what pyjamas did you pack in your hurry this morning? You can’t remember if they’re relatively normal looking, or the grotty but oh-so-cosy ones you usually reserve for being ill or on your period. 

“Nah, you go ahead.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him shaking the sheet out to drape it over the armchair. Your hands finally close on your pyjamas, and you take them and your toiletry bag into the bathroom. The bathroom is, just like the room, nicer than you had expected it to be. The little soaps and shampoos are brands you actually recognise, and you’re delighted to see that your room has a shower and a tub. Maybe tomorrow you can have a nice, long soak and pretend this mortifying night never happened. 

It doesn’t take you long to throw your hair up in a messy bun and wash the remains of your makeup off your face. You strip quickly out of your work clothes, hesitating a moment before deciding to keep your bra on. Slipping on the grey tank top you’d brought as a pyjama top, you’re a little relieved that the pyjamas you’d grabbed at random from the drawer were plain and not embarrassingly old or cutesy. 

Your relief is short-lived. When you go to shake out the folded-up black leggings, you realise with dawning horror that they’re not your leggings at all. In your hurry to pack this morning, you’d grabbed a pair of pyjama shorts, black jersey with a little lacy trim. Your face burns flaming hot again as you stare at them. You have no other choice - your only other bottoms are work clothes, and a pair of jeans - but they show off more of your leg than you’re really comfortable with your colleague seeing. 

Cursing yourself for leaving packing until this morning you reluctantly slide the shorts on, trying to tug them down to cover a little more of your thighs. Clutching your clothes to your chest, you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. 

Carisi has been busy while you’ve been gone. He’s made a makeshift bed for himself on the armchair, and moved the bags away from the door. Your purse is sitting beside your weekend bag, and his own bag is open on the desk. He’s currently searching through it, and you can't help staring a little. His coat, jacket and tie are gone and he’s rolled his shirt sleeves up, exposing his forearms. You swallow thickly and drag your eyes away with difficulty. You need to grow up. 

The bathroom door closes behind you, catching Sonny’s attention. He looks up from whatever he’s searching for in his bag and does a double-take when he sees you. 

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” He teases, unable to help the laugh that escapes him. “Did you leave packing til the last minute again?” Your cheeks are probably hot enough to counter whatever cold you might feel from the weather, and you glare at him. 

“Shut up. They were folded, I thought they were leggings.” You dump the clothes in your arms into your open bag and dig around for your phone charger. Sonny chuckles again and shakes his head. 

“You sure you’re gonna be warm enough? You can borrow my hoodie if you want.” You’re sorely tempted to take him up on the offer. The burgundy hoodie he’s holding out to you looks cosy, and it undoubtedly smells amazing, but you can’t. You need to get over this, whatever this is. 

“I’ll be okay.” With your phone charger in hand, you move your bags onto the floor by the bed and set about plugging your phone in to charge overnight. Sonny quietly excuses himself to the bathroom, and you take advantage of having the room to yourself to clamber into bed without showing any more of your legs. You almost groan once you settle down under the blankets; this bed is comfortable. It’s almost enough to make you glad that Sonny insisted on sleeping on the armchair instead of you. Almost. Once you’re suitably snuggled in, you unlock your phone and type out a quick message to Benson explaining the room situation. 

It doesn’t take Carisi long to return from the bathroom, and you let out an inelegant snort when you see him. 

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” You parrot teasingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Sonny’s wearing a Fordham tee and a pair of cotton boxer shorts. He has the good grace to flush, and he shrugs. 

“It’s what I usually sleep in. I run warm.” 

“You can turn the thermostat down if it’s gonna be too warm?” You offer. “I feel like a dick taking the bed and making you too hot.” He flashes you that soft smile again. 

“You’re still just in shorts. Sure you don’t want my hoodie?” Carisi sets his folded clothes on the desk by his bag and waits for your answer. 

“No, I’ll be fine. Turn the thermostat down a few degrees.” The room isn’t even that cold at the moment, and you’re sure you won’t feel it if the temperature drops a little while you sleep. Sonny obliges, fiddling with the thermostat again before settling down onto his armchair bed. 

“Is it okay with you if I set an alarm for half nine?” The conference kicks off at eleven; an hour and a half should be plenty of time to shower and find some breakfast before you have to go downstairs. 

“Yeah sure,” Carisi says, his reply trailing off into a yawn. “G’night.” You flip the switch by the bed, plunging the room into darkness. 

“Night, Carisi.” 

You really try to fall asleep. The bed is so comfortable, and you’re so tired. You had fallen asleep in the car, sitting up with the radio blaring. You’re not sure why it evades you now. The minutes tick by, and you can hear Sonny moving around in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Perhaps it's guilt keeping you awake, you reason. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you break the silence. 

“Carisi?” You half-whisper, not wanting to wake him if he’s asleep. 

“Yeah?” He sounds tired, and the guilt overrides any embarrassment you might feel. 

“Will you just come and sleep here?” The question hangs in the air, and there’s a long pause while you wait for Sonny’s answer. “I don’t have cooties, Carisi, you can sleep next to me.” 

“No, I know, but-” He pauses, and you hear him shift again. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

“Positive.” It’s so stupid of you. You’ve had a crush on Carisi since you first laid eyes on him; inviting him to sleep beside you is an unnecessary form of self-torture. But you know you’ll feel even worse tomorrow having to look at the deep shadows under his eyes from a sleepless and uncomfortable night in the chair. 

You hear him sigh softly. A moment later, the mattress dips as he settles into the bed. Sonny’s keeping his distance, but you’re still painfully aware of his body in bed beside you. It’s unbearably intimate, and if it wouldn’t make you look like a lunatic after telling him how fine you were with him getting in, you’d take a pillow and go and sleep in the tub. 

Annoyed with yourself, you roll over onto your side, facing away from him. As idiotic as you might be, at least you won’t have to deal with the guilt of depriving him of a good night’s sleep. Beside you, his breathing is evening out. Maybe at least one of you will sleep well. 

******

You wake up feeling confused. You have no idea how you managed to fall asleep, or how long you’ve slept for. You’re also very preoccupied with the fact that you and Carisi appear to be spooning. 

Sonny’s arm is slung over your waist and his body is curled around yours from behind, holding you close. His nose is pressed against the hinge of your jaw, his breath warm on your neck.  Your bare legs are tangled together, and you’re so overwhelmed by the feel of so much of his skin against yours that it takes you a moment to realise what woke you. 

Carisi is hard. 

The line of his erection is pressing against the curve of your ass, and you nearly choke on your own tongue at the feeling. You take a deep breath and try to make sense of what’s happening. The two of you must have rolled together at some point in the night, and Sonny’s reaction must just be morning wood. 

Not that being in Sonny’s arms is unpleasant. He’s warm and solid against you, and he smells good; something clean and masculine and him. Closing your eyes again, you try to figure out what to do. Before you can settle on an idea, Sonny’s arm briefly tightens around your waist, only to suddenly slide off. 

“Oh fuck-” Carisi practically throws himself backwards, away from you. Sitting up in bed, you turn to look at him as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets and scramble out of bed. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” You follow him, managing to grab his hand before he can move away from the side of the bed. 

“Carisi, it’s okay. It’s okay, you were asleep-” You start, kneeling on the bed in front of him and holding his hand tightly within your own. He’s shaking his head before you even get the first few words out, those beautiful blue eyes of his wide and distraught. 

“It’s not okay,” he says, refusing to look down at you. “I was practically molesting you in your sleep-”

“Stop, you weren’t molesting me,” you try to argue, but Carisi ignores you. 

“I’ll call the Lieutenant on my way back to Manhattan, let her know. God, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out. But you never have to see me again, I promise,” he rambles, trying to free his hand from your grasp. You don’t let go, giving it a squeeze instead. 

“Calm down, take a breath. How you wanted me to find out what?” You adjust your position on your knees, barely able to breathe yourself. Sonny’s palm is hot and damp against yours, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. 

“Find out that I liked you.” Carisi manages eventually, still steadfastly refusing to look down at you. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage, and your blood roars so loudly in your ears that you’re not sure you heard him right. You know he likes you, you’ve been friends for years. But he’s saying it in a way that conveys so much more than that, and you suck in a breath. 

“You like me?” 

“I- yeah. And now I’ve ruined it, and made you uncomfortable-” he starts again, and you roll your eyes. You bring your free hand up to his cheek, and the gentle touch is what finally makes him meet your eyes. 

“Dominick. You haven’t made me uncomfortable. Really, you haven’t.” That finally silences him, your use of his real name catching his attention, though it doesn’t stop his eyes from searching for any hint to the contrary in your face. You take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “And…and you haven’t ruined anything either.” 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up to kiss him. 

It’s not much more than a peck, a soft brush of your lips against his own ones. You pull back just a little, your noses almost brushing. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed waking up in your arms.” There’s a silence so deep that you’d swear you should be able to hear the snow falling outside. Those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, sending your heart hammering even harder. After a long pause, his free hand comes up to cup your jaw with deliberate slowness, giving you time to move away. 

Sonny’s thumb sweeps gently over your cheek as he lowers his head and kisses you. His lips are soft and full against yours, testing at first and deepening the kiss when you slide your free arm around him to pull him closer. A quiet sound of contentment escapes your throat as Sonny dips his tongue into your mouth, finally letting go of your hand so he can grasp your waist. 

You can’t seem to get close enough to him, even with your chests pressed flush against one another. The kiss turns from careful to desperate as years of pent-up attraction are finally given an outlet.

It’s impossible to tell who moves first to lie down on the bed, whether you pull him down or he pushes, but you end up lying parallel to the headboard with Sonny on top of you. Your mind can barely reconcile that your longtime crush reciprocates your feelings, much less the warm weight of his body pressed against you. 

Wanting to feel more of him, you slip one of your hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt and run your fingertips over his back. He shivers at the delicate touch, a sensitivity you mentally file away for later. Your legs fall open, and you choke back a whine when you feel the hard line of his cock press against you once more. 

It’s so much. You want to feel him everywhere, to keep exploring him with your hands and mouth. 

“Can I?” You ask, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling gently. He follows your lead, letting you pull the shirt over his head and discard it onto the floor. He was telling the truth earlier; he does run warm, his bare skin hot to the touch as your hands roam his back and sides. 

One of Sonny’s hands drops down to hitch your leg over his hip, his large hand squeezing your thigh. 

“I love your legs,” he murmurs. The kisses have left you breathless, but you still whine when he stops. Your hands sink into his soft hair as he shifts to press kisses down the column of your throat. You don’t mean to pull his hair when he kisses a particularly sensitive spot, but when he groans against the delicate skin you take it as your cue to do it again. 

“Want you, Dominick,” you sigh against his forehead, rocking your hips to grind against him. You feel his breath catch in his throat, his own hips stutter against yours. There are too many layers of clothes between the two of you, and you do your best to wriggle out of your t-shirt without displacing Carisi. 

Like the gentleman that he is, he helps you out. His hands cover yours to take over, pulling the soft cotton over your head. Your hands sink back into his hair almost immediately.

“Why’d you wear a bra to sleep in?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips. It’s so infuriatingly handsome that you want to drag him back down for more kisses, but you know that won’t get you out of your clothes any faster.

“Didn’t want to risk you seeing my nipples through my shirt,” you explain breathily as he ducks down to kiss over the tops of your breasts while his hands work at the clasp. 

“Think I’m about to see a lot more than that, doll,” he mumbles against your skin. It makes you giggle, in spite of yourself. The two of you shed your clothes as quickly as you can while still staying as close as possible, too focused on removing the remaining barriers between you to care too much about the undignified scramble to strip. 

“I wanna ride you,” you manage between kisses, and Sonny nearly falls off the bed in his eagerness to oblige you. He settles with his back against the headboard, watching you with hazy eyes as you grab a condom out of your purse. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, holding his hands out to help you get comfortable in his lap. He hisses when you roll the condom down over his cock, the hand he’s resting on your hip squeezing reflexively. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” you tell him, slowly pumping your hand down, then back up. He does look gorgeous out of his clothes, all lean and long-limbed. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.” 

Sonny’s other arm loops around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met,” he admits, his voice breathless with arousal. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you line him up with your entrance and slowly start to sink down. It pulls a loud moan out of both of you, the sound echoing around the room, so much louder than the whispers and gasps that had come before. 

“Oh God, so have I, Sonny-” you manage, screwing your eyes closed. It’s been a while, and the lack of foreplay probably wasn’t wise given the fact that Carisi was bigger than you’d imagined. Not that you’d made a habit of imagining this, in trying to deal with your crush. Instead of sliding down smoothly the rest of the way onto him, you roll your hips, taking a little more of his length on each pass. 

Sonny’s a mess under you. His hands clutch tight at your hips, and when you manage to open your eyes again, you see he has his head flung back against the headboard.

“You feel so good, Doll. Christ, you’re so fucking wet and we haven’t even done anything-” he cuts himself off with a shuddering groan as he finally bottoms out inside you. The tip of him is pressing up against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl, and it sends a swell of bliss coursing through you. 

“You have such a perfect dick,” you tell him, enjoying the flush that intensifies on his face as he registers what you said. You lift yourself up just a little, an inch at best, and sink slowly back down, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

You’re not sure if it’s the best adjective, but you need to tell him just how good he feels. 

In fact, the two of you can’t seem to shut up. Even when you start riding him in earnest, the headboard bumping against the wall with every stroke, neither of you can stop talking. It’s like every time you’ve wanted to tell him how hot he is over the last three years is spilling out, along with endless praise for how good he feels. He gives it right back, telling you how perfect and sexy and hot you are in between telling you how much he wants to eat you out. 

“I’d be so good at it, please doll, I just wanna show you how bad I want it,” he babbles, his hair damp with sweat at the temples. 

You’re panting with every breath. Sonny leans forward to nuzzle into your neck, kissing and licking and sucking at the delicate skin there. Your nails dig into his shoulders when he drags his teeth over a particularly sensitive spot, and the groan he makes vibrates through your skin and straight down to your core. 

“God, Dominick, yes,” you nearly sob. “So good with your mouth already, want you to kiss me everywhere…” You can’t finish the thought, but it wrenches another groan out of Sonny. You haven’t thought about a next time, whether this is a one-off or if cooler heads will prevail back in New York. 

Later, the two of you can talk for real. You’ll wake up feeling better rested than you have in years, naked in Sonny’s arms, and talk about what happened, you promise yourself. 

Right now, there’s just the two of you discovering how much you enjoy each other, how badly you’ve both wanted each other. The two of you just fit together, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. And all the pleasure you feel is magnified a thousandfold by the fact that your crush wasn’t unrequited at all, that Sonny wants you just as much as you want him. 

You sink your hand back into his soft hair and ride him faster, utterly drunk on the noises he’s making. Dominick’s mouth wanders, kissing lines up your neck and licking messily at your nipples and nipping gently at your earlobe. In between, he murmurs about how 

A real conversation can wait; right now, you want to see what it’ll take for you to leave him speechless. 

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @irishavengersassemble

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

-

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. ��No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

-

Writing Masterlist

[rauferes]

What is a man when he is of no use to anyone?

Rook finds Emmrich hunched over his writing table, pale-faced and sweating. Far more damning: his hair is neatly brushed, his mustache tidy, but far from his usual impeccable standards.

"Right," Rook says, eying him. "I may not be a healer, but walk me through this. What are you doing out of bed?"

Emmrich flashes them what would be a dazzling smile if it wasn't quite so tight around the edges.

"Correspondence is of paramount importance, my dear. In these dire times, our connections will doubtless be what save us."

"Right," Rook says again, drawing out the word. "And it couldn't wait a few days for you to get better because...?"

Emmrich's smile crumples.

"Yes, well," Emmrich says, staring at Rook's eyebrow and not their eyes, "It's already been a week that I've been off missions! I've a hearty constitution. There's no sense in malingering."

Rook doesn't bother saying anything, looking pointedly at where Emmrich leans heavily against his desk, despite his typical good posture.

"I'm putting you back to bed, Professor," Rook says.

"Emmrich," he corrects automatically, but it's in the smallest voice Rook has ever heard him use. He clears his throat. "Have you, ah, any questions regarding the Fade that need answering? I'd be happy to discuss any new developments—"

Rook hauls Emmrich to his feet and says firmly, "Bed."

"Oh! Thank you, but I can manage perfectly... well..."

Emmrich subsides as Rook does not let him go, delivering him to his (embarrassingly unmade) bed personally. He sits on the edge, ghastly paleness warring with an ashamed flush.

"And stay there," Rook says, good-natured.

Emmrich, uncharacteristically, does not respond as he stretches out.

If he is perhaps... lonely... well. It's only to be expected. Who would want to be around a man of so little use, who could provide nothing they wish to have—

The flutter of papers and the clink of an inkwell interrupts his thoughts. Rook has brought a random assortment of the paper from his desktop to his night table, with a smooth plank of wood that he can prop over his knees to write on.

"...thank you, Rook," Emmrich says, and even he's not sure what his tone means.

Rook just nods and leaves.

Emmrich dips his pen, and tries to convince himself that letters will be enough—that the ghostly words of others, nothing more than a trace of ink on papers that have long since relinquished the heat of the hand that wrote them, would satisfy the sharp and stabbing ache that lives just behind his ribs.

It must be enough. It will be, after all, all that he will receive.

[thealteredaltar]

Hellenic Deities: Apollo

🏹God of music, art, healing, the Sun/light, prophecy, archery, and poetry

🏹Symbols: bow and arrow, the lyre, palm tree, laurel wreath, cypress tree

🏹Sacred Animals: python or other snakes, hawks, mice, crows, wolves, cicadas

🏹Colors: different shades of yellow and orange (especially gold)

🏹Crystals: Sunstone, citrine, carnelian, amber

🏹Most Important Myths:

-His birth, alongside his twin sister Artemis

-Slaying Python with his arrow

-Punishing Niobe for disrespecting his family

-Death of Hyancinthus

-His obsession with Daphne

-Beating those who challenge him in music (both Pan and Marsyas)

🏹”Don’t take the myths too literally” understanding

Among those who take the mythology at face value, Apollo has one of the better reputations of the gods. He was idealized as the god who represented the “civilized” picture of Ancient Greece. So, he is often not as extreme as his counterparts are depicted. Yet, he does have a few tales where he can seem particularly harsh. This is usually in regards to arrogance, rudeness or entitlement from others. His violent or vindictive responses to these offenses are symbolic of how excessive or misplaced ego has always been frowned upon in Hellenism. Apollo is, in actuality, a very gracious, level, dignified and warm being. He is really kind and serene but if he has to put you in check, he will; firmly but lovingly.

In the myth involving Daphne, where he pursues her so relentlessly that she turns herself into a tree to get away from him, the takeaway is not to see Apollo as a “creep” of some kind. My take on it is that there is a message here about how passion can override reason. Apollo is known as being very logical and civil, most of the time. But, his desire for Daphne brought another side out of him. This was the ancient writers’ way of saying that no being can escape the intense pull of love and desire (Eros, the ruler of these forces, is the one who made Apollo fall for her). Also, I think there is a tragic irony in the golden boy who seemingly wins at everything not being able to get what he wants, showing even the most gifted or fortunate souls are also let down at times.

🏹Devotional Acts: listening to music, pursuing music as a hobby or career, practicing an instrument or your vocal abilities, sunbathing (don’t forget your sunscreen) or just getting out of the house on a warm day, taking a trip to a warm destination (especially if it’s winter), learning archery, learning Tarot, doing Tarot readings, writing or reading poetry, dedicating poetry to him, drawing or painting pictures of him (he loves this more than most gods)

🏹Assistance and Support:

-Apollo is highly sought after when it comes to assistance in artistic endeavors, particularly music. If you’re a singer/songwriter/musician, he can help you in lots of ways, like coming up with song ideas or getting better at your craft. Apollo is like a diligent teacher in this way, so he will push you to live up to your full potential and will expect you to be dedicated. If you’re not willing to put in the effort, you might not get much from him. He doesn’t want you to just have “passion”. Apollo will guide you to develop discipline and consistency. His major lesson here is that raw talent and passion will go to waste if you are not putting them to good use.

He can also be a significant resource if you write poetry or are a visual artist of some kind (painter, illustrator, sculptor, etc)

-Apollo is quite the jock, as well, and I have found that he can help people in athletic endeavors. But, instead of something like football or basketball, he can assist you in sports that are a little more niche: track, tennis, martial arts, wrestling, and, of course, archery. So many of his myths hinge on his physical prowess and his victories over others. (He even beat Ares in a wrestling match, which is no small feat!)

Apollo’s athleticism is more about a quick, lithe, one-on-one sense of competition. This is why he has a certain dominion over these types of sports. Boxing is another one he is highly associated with, largely due to the myth of him beating the giant king Phorgas in a boxing match.

-If you are feeling under the weather, Apollo can help accelerate your healing process. Although praying to him can play a part in alleviating symptoms, it will still be important for you to take your medicine and, if needed, go to the doctor. He can also guide you in terms of developing healthier lifestyle habits.

-Apollo just brings good vibes. He is the embodiment of light, after all. A lot of people who work with him do so just because he makes them feel good. I have found that, outside of his more obvious functions like being a god of music, he is kind of a general mood-booster. You can call on him to brighten up your day, help you experience life more positively, or feel more self-confident and self-assured. He won’t encourage you to be blindly happy. As positive and enthusiastic as he can be, he also has a more sensible and temperate side. He is like the smart big brother who looks out for you and cheers you up but without letting you become foolish or delusional. He is not about “toxic positivity”. He guides you toward truly empowered positivity.

-Speaking of combating toxicity, Apollo is a wonderful source of Divine Masculine energy. However you identify, Apollo can help you tap into your masculine side in a healthy and even sensitive way. People who are more masculine and work with him/are connected to him typically have an ease with their feminine side while still being very masculine.

(Although he is said to be androgynous, Apollo’s half-brother Dionysus is much more gender-bending. Apollo is more like the athletic pretty boy, in my experience)

-Interestingly, Apollo is often very associated with male beauty, even though he is not an official beauty deity. Anyone who is male-presenting can ask for his assistance in feeling more attractive or charismatic, as well as help with seeing their beauty or putting more effort into their appearance without fear or shame.

Yes, Aphrodite could definitely be called on for this. But, I feel Apollo can more specifically help men feel okay with being beautiful, instead of conforming to the “ruggedly handsome” or overly masculine ideal. He is like the patron of the pretty boys.

-Apollo can obviously help when it comes to solar magic, if that is something you practice or are interested in. He also can be a major support in divination. As the god of prophecy, anything from Tarot to scrying to pendulum readings are right up his alley. He will help you develop and trust your intuition and if you possess clairvoyance or claircognizance, he can awaken/strengthen these gifts alongside you. Those who have these psychic abilities may feel an especially strong bond with Apollo.

🏹Additional Note

-I like to call Apollo a “two for one” god because he is usually either accompanied by or accompanying Artemis or Dionysus or both. They are both his siblings. Artemis is his twin and Dionysus is the yin to his yang. People who work with Apollo usually (though not always) end up developing a strong bond with one or both of these deities. The reverse can also happen. You may be very connected to Artemis or Dionysus and then realize that Apollo is showing up in your life in a major way.

[lilyrosedeppsforehead]

Polin Fanfiction Recs

Freeing You (by jentothenuh) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30809048/chapters/76053518

“Do you need something, Penelope?”

“I need you to divorce me.”

After two years of a marriage arranged by their families, Penelope knows she does not make Colin happy. So she suggests a plan to ensure freedom for both of them. Will Colin be able to break free from his oblivion and realize what he stands to lose?

Tempting Scandal (by Stillpink) https://archiveofourown.org/works/36338452/chapters/90594055

Penelope is an innocent, but her experiences as Lady Whistledown teach her that she has much to learn about what happens between men and women behind closed doors. Fortunately, she has a friend willing to teach her all she wishes to know.

It all seems so simple...until Colin Bridgerton uncovers her plan.

Friends with Benefits AU.

dress (by TheSushiMonster) https://archiveofourown.org/works/31581308/chapters/78139523

SPRING: Penelope needs to spice up the sex scenes in her latest novel. Colin wants to publish his travel journals as a book. When they strike up a deal to help each other, what begins as writing sessions between friends turns into something more... hands on.

Or, the Colin teaches Penelope about seduction AU.

The Storm to Weather (by Nevermore_red) https://archiveofourown.org/works/39545526/chapters/98984844

Colin helps Penelope out of an unwanted and scandalous situation with Lord Fife outside of a ball. Only, Portia and a group of people are heading their direction. In an attempt to prevent Penelope from being forced into marriage with a forceful rake, he kisses her before the group reaches them, ensuring that he would be the one she marries.

Now they must navigate marriage and Colin comes to some realizations about his feelings towards his wife.

Discovering Duty (by annasometimeswrites) https://archiveofourown.org/works/42294105/chapters/106200006

‘Come on,’ Colin said. ‘I ought to get you to bed.’

Penelope released his arms, putting a hand over her heaving bosom. ‘Mr. Bridgerton- I am for too intoxicated for that kind of talk.’

OR

Penelope drinks too much at Kate and Anthony’s first ball of the season and makes a confession Colin never saw coming.

But that’s not the only surprise of the night. Penelope and Colin’s drunken antics have attracted the attention of a few other members of the Ton, leading society to draw their own conclusions about what could possibly be going on between the pair.

The Gentlemen’s Wager (by murderbymushrooms) https://archiveofourown.org/works/42943293/chapters/107889417

After his careless words ruined Penelope’s prospects on the marriage mart, Colin is determined to do everything he can to restore her reputation and to find her a good match, even if it means pretending to court his best friend.

However, outside forces with a grudge against the Bridgertons inadvertently transforms a wallflower into the most coveted prize of the London Season of 1815.

Dr. Bridgerton; or With his educated eyes, and his hand between my thighs (by queenofthecon) https://archiveofourown.org/works/50755327/chapters/128214838

There lay in Penelope a sickness, or so she had been told.

A very specific kind that only this physician, as he called himself, could potentially be willing to alleviate for her, if there were any hope at all. At least that was what the flyer had said.

A gentleman by the name of Mr Bridgerton had developed a technique of stimulatory effect to relieve the sufferings of women. Of sharp tongues and short tempers gone in a few months or less, within three sessions with his special apparatus. 

Kintsugi (by Metamorphases) https://archiveofourown.org/works/44141013/chapters/110996193

Colin Bridgerton was not a fool, despite what hiis siblings might think. Nor was he merely a charming and handsome darling, as LAdy Whistledown has labeled him in the past. No, Colin Bridgerton was well-read and well-educated, and he was observant, even though his current predicament required no real outlay of any of these qualities.

Colin Bridgerton knew he had fallen out of favor with Penelope Featherington.

Watch as Colin Bridgerton goes to increasingly mad lengths to keep Penelope Featherington safe and sound (and away from other suitors).

An Agreement (by Royal_Darjeeling) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53290957/chapters/134863249

Every Monday (and on special occasions) Penelope took her husband to bed.

It was an agreement, after a year of marriage, that they would finally explore each other for the sake of having a child. It did not mean anything, not at all. 

Attachment (by lixabiz) https://archiveofourown.org/works/49029733/chapters/123695383

“I would like to marry,” Penelope said bluntly. She looked him directly in the eye, daring him to disagree.

“Right.” Colin gave a slow nod of the head, clearly taken aback by the declaration. His eyes had gone wide, giving him a look that was reminiscent of cornered prey.

It seemed that the heavens were intent upon tormenting her.

“Not you,” she managed to say evenly, although she felt tumultuous waves rocking the boat that was her composure.

“No, of course not,” he agreed hastily, embarrassment evident on his face.

(Set post S2. Some elements from the S3 synopsis, but not a prediction fic)

Remembering Mrs. Bridgerton (by Stillpink) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53893792/chapters/136412590

When Colin awakens, the world as he knows it has changed.

It’s You, You’re the Problem (by thathoppingmadtargaryen) https://archiveofourown.org/works/54491251/chapters/138050482

While Eloise goes on a six-month botany fellowship trip with Phillip, Penelope is left in need of a flatmate. Eloise’s solution: her third oldest brother than Penelope hates, and hates her in hreturn. While Penelope juggles one frustration after another, sparks fly between her and Colin. But as they start to get to know one another, misunderstandings come to light, and Penelope realizes that the man she thought she loathed may be the only one who can give her what she wants.

The Modern Polin-Enemies to Lovers-Roommates AU no one asked for.

Honoring Mr. Bridgerton (by winterschild) https://archiveofourown.org/works/56987035/chapters/144917125

Every year since his father passed away, Colin has made breakfast for his family on his father’s birthday to help combat the negative emotions that are naturally going to come with the day. Naturally, Colin was 16 the first time he tried, and he didn’t know how to cook, so Penelope helped him. 

It became a tradition.

These are those breakfasts.

Pandemic Romantic (by KateofKanals) https://archiveofourown.org/works/57078004/chapters/145164721

Penelope Featherington finds herself spending the pandemic lockdown at Aubrey Hall with a good number of the Bridgerton clan gathered. There’s one Bridgerton that she isn’t planning on seeing--her best friend Eloise’s older brother Colin. They used to be friends--very close friends. But now, they’re more like strangers and she harbors a good amount of bitterness towards him. Sure enough, though, Colin Bridgerton is staying at Aubrey Hall too and she’s forced to interact with him. Can Penelope and Colin repair their friendship? And can they possibly find maybe a little more for themselves than friendship along the way?

Let’s Have This Weekend... (by Phoenix324) ​​https://archiveofourown.org/works/52106203/chapters/131785360

Colin, unwilling to let go, refuses to accept Penelope’s decision to end their friendship. Both of them leave the Danburry Ball feeling broken and defeated. However, an unsettling feeling lingers in Penelope’s heart. In a desperate attempt to preserve their sanity, Penelope proposes spending the entire weekend focusing on their friendship at the annual Hearts and Flower Ball. Will Colin be able to convince her that this is a disastrous idea?

i’ll use you as a warning sign (by TheSushiMonster) https://archiveofourown.org/works/32663455/chapters/81027079

The words on his body sound like Lady Whistledown.

His soulmate - the person meant to capture his body and heart, his partner and love of his life - ruins lives.

Perhaps it makes sense that she’s already ruined his.

Or, soulmate AU where the words you write show up on your soulmate’s skin.

I was going to drink some tea... but then I got high (by Twilight13) https://archiveofourown.org/works/41242068/chapters/103396251

The one where Violet and Penelope get high off of Benedicts Tea. Violet gets more bold in her matchmaking ways, even close to breaking the rules of propriety herself! Penelope with the effects of the tea makes her bold indeed to a few Bridgertons in the household. Colin is blind, but not that blind. Benedict really likes to tease his dense headed brother. Colin is jealous at his brother and at his pillow. 

What Ladies Want (by Monicapolinstan) https://archiveofourown.org/works/44789713/chapters/112691035

Colin Bridgerton comes home from his travels and slowly realizes that he has the ability to hear the thoughts of the women of the ton.

Model Behavior (by Katie_500, Stillpink) https://archiveofourown.org/works/40215912/chapters/100728123

The summer air at Aubrey Hall is warm and sweet. With Penelope and Colin in close proximity, their romance blossoms along with the roses in the garden.

Premature (by logogram) https://archiveofourown.org/works/44613403/chapters/112230367

Penelope’s refusal to dance with him at the Hastings Ball leaves Colin so worried and confused that he can’t help but follow her. As he comforts her, things take a turn for the physical that neither of them anticipated.

Loving you is not an obligation (by yellowflower95) https://archiveofourown.org/works/56978515/chapters/144893002

Set after season 2.

Penelope Featherington spends her time before the new season with the Bridgerton family at Aubrey Hall. After an accident on the ship, Colin Bridgerton returns earlier home to reunite with his family.

During a tense moment in a storm with Colin, Penelope falls ill. Colin is feeling guilty and deeply concerned and visits her room one night to check on her. However, Portia Feahterington catches him, leading to a forced marriage to protect Penelope’s reputation.

Both Colin and Penelope are conflicted; Colin is torn between his growing feelings and his anger when learning about Penelope’s true identity, while Penelope feels heartbroken and unworthy.

Will they be able to overcome their misunderstandings and find true happiness together, or will their secrets and insecurities drive them apart?

Love Potion (by Katie_500) https://archiveofourown.org/works/42527805

He didn’t understand what was happening- why was Penelope naked in the middle of a busy bar, and why was no one else reacting to it?

Premature (by logogram) https://archiveofourown.org/works/44613403/chapters/112230367

Penelope’s refusal to dance with him at the Hastings Ball leaves Colin so worried and confused that he can’t help but follow her. As he comforts her, things take a turn for the physical that neither of them anticipated.

Please Open Up (by winterschild) https://archiveofourown.org/works/57575089/chapters/146499658

Penelope is all happy that her neighbor and his frieldfriend seem to have such a healthy relaitonship, but it’s really annoying when she’s trying to sleep and they won’t shut up. However, when Penelope realizes tha the voices stop one day and Colin hasn’t smiled in a month, she becomes worried and refuses to leave until he opens the door. Their relationship can only develop from there.

or

‘dancing/singing/the bed moving/you two laughing and talking and i can’t sleep so i bitch about it to you 24/7 and one day it stops and one day turns to months and i haven’t seen you smile in forever please let me in, i’ve been knocking for ten minutes’ au Polin style

Closed Set (by LightLeadingMe, Sea_Dragonfly, Stilpink) https://archiveofourown.org/works/46203364/chapters/116318563

Penelope Feahterinton has finally landed the role of her dreams. Better uyet, she’s been cast opposite one of her oldest and dearest friends, Colin Bridgerton. The only problem? It’s a sexy regency romance that requires more than a few intimate scenes, and she just happens to be madly (and unrequitedly) in love with him.

Trey as she might to retain her professionalism, things start getting heated, until Penelope’s at risk of losing more than just her job.

Celebrity AU for Polin Week 2023

Ruin (by Sea_Dragonfly) https://archiveofourown.org/works/54092404/chapters/136950694

“Perhaps you should take a seat,” said Violet.

Colin wouldn’t remember the details of what his mother told him next. He would remember her hand warm on his knee, her eyes wide with concern, her voice gentle as velvet. All of it in stark contrast to the devastating news she shared.

Penelope was ruined.

with you, a girl could get bolder (by indiebitch) https://archiveofourown.org/works/56129797

“Penelope and Colin were in the middle of one of their writing sessions when The Question was asked.”

or Penelope and Colin’s adventures into pegging

A Night So Long (by FeedingDucks) https://archiveofourown.org/works/57675790/chapters/147023245

“Ruin me.”

If it wasn’t for her pride, Penelope wouldn't be in this situation - stuck in a one-room lodge with none other than Colin Bridgerton in the middle of a storm, with nothing but an erotic novel to keep herself entertained.

Touches (by FeedingDucks) https://archiveofourown.org/works/47903413/chapters/120773857

“Touch Yourself for me.”

In twenty eight years of her life, Penelope Featherington has never felt this hot. Her breaths grow shallow, nipples hard and core aches for something she cannot quite grasp. She is positively falling ill. Lucky for her, her dear friend Colin Bridgerton knows the exact remedy.

the sexual awakening fic no one asked for

Snowflakes in Her Eyelashes (by KateofKanals) https://archiveofourown.org/works/58385230/chapters/148708228

The Bridgertons are all jetting off to the Scottish Highlands for Christmas and Penelope Featherington is coming with them this year. She’s a close family friend and gets along famously with each and every member (young and old) with one significant expectation-- the third eldest son, Colin Bridgerotn. They may have been best friends as children, but now, in their mid and late twenties, they couldn’t be further from friends. These days they can’t even be in the same room with one another without trading verbal jabs that intensify steadily until someone literally has to pull them apart. After a lot of deliberation, though, Penelope accepts Violet’s invitation despite this fact. She figures they’ll be staying in a huge house and there will be a crowd of other people to distract herself with. What she can’t possibly know, however, is that the form of the century and a series of unforeseen events are going to make that house and that crowd much, much smaller.

[auroracalisto]

day #21: winter proposal

benedict bridgerton x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: listening to christmas music as i write this. hope it shows. or not. idk. <3 also??? does anyone know the terry's oranges you can only get around christmas? i love them. i make a tradition out of buying one every single year. THAT BEING SAID YOU LIKE ORANGES IN THIS FIC. it's self-indulgent. i'd say i'm sorry but i'm not. if you want a pt 2 let me know cuz i could totally do it tw: not entirely historically accurate (yes it's bridgerton) BUT i have a reason. i started writing this and only researched halfway through what the cost of a chocolate would be during the 1810s and little history lesson for you but europe didn't have access to chocolate until it was brought over from central america IN the 1810s, and then it spread all over. it wouldn't have a substaintial processor until like... the 1850s. so um. we're going to pretend for this fics sake that i didn't totally muck it up and chocolate processors were everywhere during this time. thanks spooky pookies

The season of the 'ton has come and gone, leading the socialites to a rather dreary winter. Balls were still held, dinners still attended, but the chill of the air haunted every hall and home.

Unless they were imported or dried, fruits and certain vegetables were hard to come by. The markets were compact with the exception of said dried goods and chocolates from the heart of European society.

One good in particular was one that continued to catch a certain Bridgerton's eye—the little chocolates meticulously crafted to look as if they were made from an orange and even had a hint of orange taste. He didn't truly know how they did it, but he cared little—what he cared about was that he knew you had mentioned liking them some time ago.

He managed to get his hands on a few just the other day.

Despite it being after the proper season, he found himself seeking out your comfort and conversation at any moment he had been given—his mother found it endearing and supported his wants. After all, perhaps there was something to be said in developing a friendship before a marriage. She, herself, had married her best friend once upon a time. She'd like to see that in her children, if they could manage (her sons especially—she knew it would be harder for her daughters to do the same).

So, to get you to the Bridgerton manor without causing some kind of scandal, Benedict convinced his mother and brother, Anthony, to host a dinner for his family and yours.

Your parents agreed in typical fashion, and you were at the Bridgerton's in a matter of days. Dressed warmly, dressed as if you had something to show off for (you did, but you wouldn't confess to that), you entered the front door where Anthony, Benedict, and their mother greeted you and your family. The rest of Violet's children were just behind them, but they smiled mildly as they usually did.

Benedict greeted you with a kiss to your knuckles and a smile on his handsome face.

"It is a pleasure to see you again," he softly said, your name leaving his lips soon after.

"To you as well," you answered, unable to hide your smile.

Violet shared a knowing look with your parents. It was almost as if everyone was just waiting for what they knew would happen. The way the two of you looked at each other was almost frustrating—how could the two of you not just marry when you both clearly adored each other?

Dinner went well. Honey glazed ham, tarts with dried apples and strawberries, breads baked with selective flours and grains. You truly couldn't complain about the spread before you.

At some point or another, Benedict had dragged you to the drawing room, hand in hand.

"I've something to give you," he said, smiling back at you. "I saw it and I knew I had to buy them. I couldn't pass them up."

Your eyes widened a bit. "What? You didn't have to get me a thing, Benedict," you said. "I need for nothing."

"Perhaps," Benedict said, grinning all the while. He let go of your hand and with long strides, he was across the drawing room to where he had kept the box of chocolates for you. He then brought them back, holding the box to you.

You watch him warily for only a moment before you opened the box. Your heart nearly lurched in your throat as you looked up at him.

"These—Benedict, these must have cost you a fortune!"

"Rubbish," he said, watching you with happy eyes. "It truly wasn't much. I would buy even more if I hadn't bought the rest of what they had."

"You did not!" you exclaimed, holding the box tightly. "Oh, Benedict, this is—you are so kind. How can I ever repay you?" you asked, smiling all the while.

He chuckled softly. "Your friendship is enough repayment for me, dear Y/n," he said.

You sat the box down and reached forward, taking his hands in yours. "There must be something I could do for you," you said, eyes sparkling with mirth, and a little something that Benedict could only recognize as adoration. He knew that look well.

He watched you, lips parting as the words died on his lips. "Well, you..."

"Yes?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It is foolish. I couldn't..."

"Benedict," you softly said. "We are already causing scandal enough just by being here in your drawing room with no chaperone. Truly, whatever you have to say, I want to hear."

He blinked slowly. You were right. Here you were, alone together, with no one to watch over you. To see what was happening. To see if you were doing wrong.

He licked his lips, peering down at you as he found his words.

"I could buy these for you, every winter season, you know," he said, a smile forming on his lips once more. He smiled quite a bit around you. He couldn't help it.

He loved you.

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head at his words.

"All I'd need from you for repayment is your hand in marriage."

You paused—did you hear him right?

"Perhaps I should have a ring, or ask you during the marriage season, but truly, Y/n, I—"

"—I feel like the chocolates are close enough to a ring," you interrupted him.

He snorted softly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You bought them, for me. You saw them and thought of me. I do believe that warrants a proper proposal, does it not?"

There it was—one of the many reasons he loved and adored you.

He leaned forward and would have kissed you had it not been for the knock at the drawing room door.

In walked Violet, and Benedict quickly looked over, wide eyed.

"I wondered where the two of you were," Violet said, suspiciously watching the two of you. "Well? Did I give you enough time to find an answer, Benedict, or will you marry them due to scandal?"

His eyes widened. Had his mother planned this? He paid no mind, smiling her way.

"I do believe we should plan for a wedding, mother," he said. "And perhaps a proper ring, yes?"

"Yes," you said, your own smile mirroring his. "It would be good to start."

Violet returned the smile. "Good," she said. "Now, come back and join the party. Your father, dear Y/n, has just made a fool of himself with an apple tart."

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt4

pt 3 here content: Choso follows reader, finds ur house on Zillow, screen records ft, has a shrine for u, reader is slowly developing feelings for Choso, I mean who wouldn't? mentions of reader not having family, he doesn't know that he's a stalker, just thinks he's being nice, MENTIONS of choso scared someone will kidnap reader, the word assault is used once.

(a.n) ahhhh omg I luv him so much, I wrote this while listening to 'Mascara-Deftones'

taglist: @leafanight @tfamidoingwithmylife @sunaumei @adanfore @tojisworm-5 @bblgumfairy

Obsessive!Choso who was sitting peacefully in class, turning his head anytime he heard the doors open, in case it was you. But when you actually walked in, he didn't hear you.

Obsessive!Choso who shuddered when he got a hint of your perfume, almost feeling your presence. “Hi.” you said, earning him to jump slightly and turn his head to look at you. Looking down to where you usually sat- seeing your ‘friend’ was there. “Could I sit here?” You asked, hand pulling the chair out before he said yes. ‘You came to the same conclusion, didn’t you’ silence filling the air as Choso slightly leaned away from you- being able to feel the warmth radiating from your body to his. Being able to smell your shampoo. This was too close, you were too close. 

Obsessive!Choso whose shoulders were stiff for the first 20 minutes of class, wanting to talk to you, but not finding the words. Not wanting to speak up, just for his voice to crack from his nerves. Not even having the guts to look over at you- this was torture. So used to looking at you for the entire lecture, being forced to actually try to pay attention to what was being taught. Hearing a quiet rip coming from your notebook, moving his eyes to see you writing. 

Obsessive!Choso who flinched when he felt you elbow his arm, the first time you had touched him. Your hand passed him a folded up piece of paper. ‘You have to be joking- you really are into me, aren't you?’ he thought, smiling and opening up the paper. ‘how can u see from all the way up here o_o’ he read, looking over at you. Smiling at the small face you drew. ‘I think I’m in love with you.’ he confessed, pressing the paper down and writing. The class was quiet enough to hear a pin drop- Choso assumed that was why you didn't just speak to him. Scribbling onto the paper, rings scratching on the table as he wrote, trying his best not to take up too much space. ‘i squint a lot -.-’ you read, smiling at the small face he drew before writing again. ‘i think i need a magnifying glass- i cant see anything:(’ Choso read. Looking over at you and smiling. Folding the paper and holding it in his hand before he tore at his notebook. ‘i got u 🔍 ’ he replied, drawing a tiny magnifying glass, seeing you struggle not to laugh. Letting out a loud exhale. Various students looking back at you two. Among them, your 'friend'. Who had assumed you were just absent. Furrowing her eyebrows as the rest of the students looked away. ‘thanks, rlly helps.’ you smiled, seeing him place the note into his pocket before going back to your work. 

Obsessive!Choso who stayed after class with you for a few minutes, watching all the students walking out. Talking about when a good time would be to help you study. “Dude? You seriously deserted me?” Your friend asked you, making you turn around to look at her. “Deserted? I sat somewhere else.” You scoffed, Choso could feel the tension in the air between you and your friend. “Yeah, to sit with -Pierce The Veil?” She asked, holding her books close to her chest. ‘Pierce The Veil?’ Choso thought- eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at your friend. “You're being fucking rude, don’t you think?”

Obsessive!Choso who felt his cheeks flush at hearing you defend him. “Whatever- call me when you're over this whole ‘I can change him’ phase.” She sneered, looking at Choso, scoffing before leaving. You turned over at him, a pained look on your face. “Sorry about that-” You started, a small sigh leaving your lips, “She hates anything that's out of her version of normal.” you smiled, seeing Choso exhale with a smile. Easing your embarrassment. “It's fine- I'm used to people being,” he shook his head smiling before looking down, “Fucking rude- As you put it.” He smiled, making you look away from him. ‘I can see you're smiling. You can't hide it. Not from me.’

Obsessive!Choso who kept those two pieces of paper. Putting them in between two strips of tape so they wouldn't fade. Placing them next to your pen and the coffee cup you had taken a drink from, lipstick stain still evident. His collection of things you had touched- or left behind just for him, started to grow. 

Obsessive!Choso who kept thinking about how other people get to see you. Other people perceive you, what if there's more people like that one douche who dared invade your personal space? Who had the audacity to touch you? ‘What if there are people who want to hurt you- like your now, ex friend. What if she wanted to hurt you- to make you regret defending me?’ he thought. The feeling of responsibility was heavy in his chest. Knowing that you couldn't protect yourself- you don't even pay attention to your surroundings! Walking around campus with your earphones in, looking down at your phone. ‘No. I have to protect you. It's my responsibility. As your friend.’

Obsessive!Choso who started following you after class, learning what your classes had. Watching you from a distance while you killed time before your next class, sitting at a table in the large dining hall. Eating a small snack while on your computer. ‘You must live far from campus, that's why you won’t go home right?’ Writing down in a small notebook what class and what time it started. ‘I'm just making sure you're safe. Just in case someone tries something- I will always be here.’ He'd assure himself, drawing the line at following you home. Saying, ‘I'm not a stalker,’ He called your name in his head, as though he was speaking to you, ‘I won't cross that line. I refuse to invade your privacy.’ But something inside of him always told him to do it and get it over with. Afternoons of watching you walk away from the campus, the minute he'd see you turn the corner, he'd almost start hyperventilating. Thinking about all the stories and the news articles of people being kidnapped off the sidewalk in the middle of the day. Closing his eyes and trying to not think about how someone could be taking you away from him right now.  

Obsessive!Choso who heard your voice whisper in his head, asking him if he was just gonna let you be kidnapped. Taunting him in his own mind. Not being able to hear you clearly, trying so hard to focus on what you were saying- only making his ears hurt trying to listen to your whispers. Everytime, he fought off your voice. And everytime he felt guilty for even letting you be exposed to the chance. The chance of being assaulted, of being murdered by someone who was crazy. Someone who was stalking you. Choso hated the thought of someone hurting you, so he had to make sure you were okay. Make sure you get home safe. 

Obsessive!Choso who was walking far behind you, making sure to step lightly so you couldn't hear him. ‘I just want to keep you safe. That's all.’ he kept defending his actions to nobody but himself. Standing behind a tree as he watched you open the door to your house. ‘Not your parents, not a sorority- roommates. You live with roommates.’ he thought before opening his phone and saving the location.

Obsessive!Choso who was on his computer, hunched over as he looked through a walkthrough on Zillow. Wanting to know which one was your bedroom. 

Obsessive!Choso who spend countless nights picturing you in that house. He wanted to know if you were home right now, laying in the dark waiting for him to call you. Taking time to picture you in each bedroom he saw. Wondering what you had on your walls, what bedsheets you had. How many pillows you had on your bed. Closing his eyes and wondering if you had a desk- or a vanity. Scrolling through your feed to scan the walls of your bedroom. Going through the various screenshots from your story and your friends’. 

Obsessive!Choso who found a video your friend had posted in his gallery- of you laying on your back on the floor. Pillow beneath your hands, the quality was bad. It was a video that was posted over and over, taking it from their story on your birthday. Posting it to show their love for you. But from what he could hear- they were laughing at you. Making fun of you. While you asked them if they knew the true meaning of life, clearly on something from the looks of it. Trying to have a decent conversation with these people- only for them to laugh at you. Saying your name in his head, calling for your attention. ‘I would never do that to you. I will never laugh at you when you'd want to have a conversation. I will always listen to your words, no matter how silly they sound.’

Obsessive!Choso who thought that he was the only friend you will ever need. The only classmate you could depend on. Wanting desperately to tell you. Tell you that you don't need to surround yourself with superficial people when you have him. But for now. He will keep his opinions of your life to himself, till the day comes where he becomes a closer friend to you than any of them. 

Obsessive!Choso who was thrown from his thoughts when he saw his phone ring. Your cute contact name making him smile. Answering with a ‘Hello?’ like he didn't look at who was calling. “Hey- it's me.” You smiled, hearing him say hi again. “Are you busy?” you asked, wondering if he had time to help you study. “I'm not, no.” he exhaled, his hand on his knee while he closed his eyes to picture you. “Why?” he asked, feeling more comfortable speaking to you day by day. Closing your eyes, feeling uneasiness in your stomach before asking him. “I was wondering-” you exhaled, your tone telling him that you were smiling. “If you could help me study? If not it’s totally understandable- it's late and you must be tired-” You rambled, making Choso smile at how you were starting to feel nervous speaking to him. “No. I’d be delighted to.” He replied, making your cheeks warm at how polite he was. 

Obsessive!Choso who was starting to feel like he couldn't see you as he did before. It became clear to Choso. The more he sees you, the more he speaks to you. The more you keep flirting with him- the harder it is to see you clearly. Which was becoming more and more difficult, seeing as you never hesitated to ask him if he wanted to tag along with you after class. Or how you didn't ask him if you could call him through text anymore. 

Obsessive!Choso who was surprised when you asked if you could facetime him, muttering while moving the call to your computer. His hands knocked over the cup full of pens that was next to his laptop, quickly sliding his closet door shut, knowing that the angle of his laptop would've given you a clear view of his shrine dedicated to you. Scanning his desk before he pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. Fixing his shirt before answering. Every time he saw you- he felt like you kept getting more and more beautiful. Even if you didn't have as much makeup on as you did in the day. Smile on your face when you saw him pop up onto your screen, “I can see you!” you exclaimed, your hand going to your mouth to pick at the dry skin to soothe your nerves. Seeing him with his hair down- light traces of the eye makeup he had on earlier. In truth, it was late, too late to be calling a class mate. But you wanted to see if he would answer, if you were tripping when you saw something other than friendship in the way he smiled at you, in the way he looked at you sometimes. Remembering how quiet and unapproachable he was before you had befriended him. Wondering if what you were feeling was something else. Not wanting to ruin a blossoming friendship with a real person, that formed his own thoughts. Not caring if the version he peddled to the masses was unacceptable. 

Obsessive!Choso who knew he didn't want to miss another opportunity, starting a recording on his screen. Even if he wasn't going to be able to hear what you said later- the feeling of knowing that he would be the only one with this video of you, was indescribable. Almost like he was keeping this side of you to himself. 

Obsessive!Choso who made sure to scan the walls of your bedroom, the angle that you had posed the camera was saddening. Only letting him see a small corner of your bedroom. But what he could see was your bed. Messy and not made, ‘If i lived with you- you'd never have to worry about the bed being made. I would always make sure that you'd come home to a welcoming bed waiting for you.’ he thought, hearing you read aloud the professor's comments on an essay you had turned in. “I feel like he's personally targeting me-” You smiled, that was the first time he had a violent thought about someone when it came to you. His eyes widening before trying to forget what he thought of. “What's your grade in the class anyway?” You asked, seeing his eyes glaze over at what you were saying. Not knowing that he was thinking of you, of defending your honor. He looked up, making a feigned thinking face before replying, “B- I think?” he lied. ‘I don't want to lie to you’ he thought, saying your name in his head, ‘I really don't. But I can’t let you see that I am not put together.’

Obsessive!Choso who died inside when you picked up your laptop to move onto your bed, ‘You didn't call me to study- you just wanted to talk to me?’ seeing that you didn't even bring up this so-called studying you asked him to help you with. While moving something- you saw the full print of the shirt he was wearing. “I love that band.” You commented, lifting yourself from the pillow you were resting on. Choso looked down at the shirt he was wearing, smiling at your compliment. “I didn't think that you listened to this kind of music.” He commented, sitting back down to look at you. Dim lights in your bedroom making you look ethereal. “I listen to everything really.” You mumbled, turning to your side, holding your head up in your hand. Moving the computer to face you. “Even country?” He asked, his tone soaked in sarcasm. “God no- But everything else, yeah.” You smiled, seeing him look at the screen with a warm smile.

Obsessive!Choso who let out a choked sigh when you asked what his plans were for winter break. “Goin home-” He exhaled, rubbing his forehead in frustration, remembering that college isn't the only thing in his life, you weren't the only person he cared for. The facetime was fun, talking to you outside of class was fun. Off campus, and it being so late. No valid excuse for wanting to talk with him now, other than just wanting to see him, to hear him. But the thought of winter break was heart shattering. Wanting to see his brothers but not wanting to go so long without seeing you. “And whose home?” You asked, seeing his eyebrows furrow at your past question. “My brothers.” He replied, hoping the conversation would steer elsewhere to stop thinking about this. “Younger or older?” You asked, wanting to know more about him.

Obsessive!Choso who for the first time, you asking about his life made him feel uneasy. The stinging in his chest made him pick at the skin on the sides of his chipped black fingernails. Twitching his head to try and shake off the feeling, “No, I'm the oldest.” He replied, fiddling with his thumbs and looking down, “Ahh I see.” You smiled, he looked down at his hands. A sudden wave of sadness fell over him, “And you? Where are you going for break?” He tried to snap out of the sudden funk. “I'm staying here, no family to go home to.” Your smile dropped, feeling the same as he did, remembering the fact that there was nowhere to call home.

Obsessive!Choso who felt so sad for you, who wanted to ask you what happened, thinking that he wasn't there yet with you. But god, the look on your face. Like you were about to start crying made his heart break for you. “Is it too far to ask what happened?” he mumbled, seeing you look away from the screen. “Just-" You sighed, "Family sucks. But I'd rather stay here. My roommates will all be gone-” You flashed him a toothy smile, trying to ease the tension. ‘Roommates. I knew it.’ he thought, a smile creeping onto his face as the worries of leaving you faded. “The campus will be empty. And I'll finally be able to catch up on my assignments, and the dozens of books I've started but never finished.” You assured him. Choso felt like he was finally able to get to know you, what will happen when he leaves you for three weeks? ‘Should I stay? If you asked me I would. I would stay right here with you.’

Obsessive!Choso who felt his heart thump in his chest, “Choso?” You asked, looking at him for the first time without a smile. “Yes?” He answered, his knee bouncing while seeing you cover your face with your hand. “I feel like a child asking you this-” you smiled, ‘Ask me.’ he smiled, “Could I- call you when you're out of town?” you grimaced, cringing at the words coming out of your mouth. He opened his mouth to speak, but feeling like you had just been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, you elaborated. “I just- I'll miss the uhh-” You looked up, “Refreshing conversations.” You laughed, seeing him let out a choked laugh with you. ‘Call me whenever you want, call me in the middle of the night, sad, happy, sick, for favors, for a laugh. Don't ever hesitate to call me.’ He wanted to say, desperately wanted to tell you to call him all the time. How he would wait by his phone for you to call him. 

Obsessive!Choso who couldn't bring himself to do it. Settling for; “Call me whenever you want. I’ll always answer.” He smiled, seeing you push the camera away from your face, your cheeks warm at how easily that came from his lips. Making Choso realize that his slow attempts at ‘friendship’ were working a little too well on you. “Okay, okay-” You smiled, pointing the camera to your flushed face. “I need to go to bed now.” You sat up, seeing him look at you in a way you haven't seen before, almost with hearts in his eyes. “Okay. Goodnight.” He smiled, deep voice making you want to laugh at how flustered you felt right now. “Goodnight Choso.” You smiled, clicking the red x and closing your laptop. Falling back to your pillows and closing your eyes. 

Obsessive!Choso who almost ran around his apartment, holding back all the blushing laughs and the many comments he thought while on the phone with you, felt like a torture that was perfectly crafted for him. Knowing he was going to rewatch those two hours of your face over and over again. Dissecting every frame and saving them as photos, making one of them his screen saver on his laptop. The past delusion of you possibly, maybe, just maybe, being his. Wasn't a delusion anymore. It was possible now, seeing you blush at his words made him see that. Smiling at the idea that all he's done wasn't in vain, there was an upside to his ‘crush’ on you. Closing his eyes and leaning back on his bed, picturing a day when you'd hold his hand, calling him your boyfriend. That day that was a possibility now. A day he wished would come soon. 

-

pt 5 here

........I have no words🫣 pls let me know if u wanna be tagged- nd make sure i can tag u lmao- ran into some issues while trying to tag accs that had the 'prohibit users from looking me up' on🫠

[obsessive-valentine]

How would Dark-Yandere!Farmer react to finding reader taking Polaroid photo shoots of his retired senior dogs in silly clothing like sunglasses, hair clips, etc. Btw love your writing keep up the good work!🫶🏼

Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

TW - Readers def developing Stockholm Syndrome or something of the sort, nothing else though this fix is sweeter as an apology for the intense one last time about reader being punished. This was meant to be a qick paragraph or two as an answer but I got to deep into lore and this sweet scenario as it’s a side of him we don’t see much. Thanks for the idea glad you’re liking this blog❤️

I’ll proof read later

You’d expressed an interest in his old cameras after he let you rummage through a few boxes he’d stored away. In a box he’s got a old digital camera a Polaroid one and then a really fragile one that’s much older than the rest, you didn’t dare pick it up in fear it would fall adapt just by touch. Then at the bottom of the box, a few images, some developed film some printed. You recognised him in some home images or family portraits, he looked like a happy kid with a cheesy grin sometimes even pictured on this very farm but most of them look to be taken in a small town house.

It’s weird to imagine at one point he was just a normal kid, living a normal life, photos of him blowing out candles on his birthday or with some older family members reminded you that no ones born ‘bad’. Makes you wonder why he’s the way he is now, what happened?

A part of you wanted to take one of those sweet images of him as a child and hide it away, to uncover and re-remind yourself he’s not a living monster but a human and a kind one at times. To ground yourself when he gets angry and all you can see him as is a living demon. To set the aspiration that if he was once so -he can be again.

You recognised a woman from the images as his mother because he kept a image of her in the bedside draw, she looked loving and kind. But he’d never talk about her, answering your careful questions about her with “she was a good mother” or “she was an admirable woman” he seemed emotionally withdrawn about it so you didn’t push it. You figured since she’s dead he’s just remembering her face.

The rest of the pictures seemed to be from the building of this farm, dated on the back in scruffy hands writing, maybe by his father or grandfather. You could look through this pile of history for hours, not just to learn more about your captor but about the history of this place and the his family that he’s so reluctant to talk about.

The ladder to the attic creaks behind you and his distinct heavy boots land with a thud and groan on the ladder steps “what’s got you so occupied up here?” You felt like you’d been caught looking in something you shouldn’t have despite having permission “j-just these cameras, I had a polaroid camera once” you turned to him showing him the old camera, he now off the ladder and standing over you.

“Hmm, old thing -maybe older than us” he gently took it from you hands to inspect it “probably still works if you want it, not any use just sitting up here” he hands it back “thank you” you reply with a smile he waves you off and crouches down beside the box with you. He shuffles through it completely ignoring the images from his past and he rummages in search of something “No film stacks though, I’ll pick some up from town next time”

“Really?” You look over at him in excitement, he shrugs “sure” he stands up ready to head back down stairs “had I known you’d be so happy I’d have gotten you one sooner” he chuckles at your excitement over something so small.

To you it’s much more than a old camera to take up some free time when you get bored. It’s yours, you can control it, keep it for your own. You don’t have much things that’s yours anymore but the collections growing.

...

You’d basically forgotten about getting film for your camera as a week or two had passed. But he hadn’t, he returned to the truck once again being one of may shops he had to stop at. But this time he didn’t have heavy bags of stock or material and tools for the farm but just 3 small boxes that he could carry in just one hand.

He sat down in his seat and extended his hand to give you the boxed, you furrowed your brows in confusion until you read one of the box’s. A big smile plastered you face when you got to the word ‘film’ “that should be enough to last you a long while” “thank you” you grinned giving him a quick hug out of appreciation.

Once you both pulled into the driveway of the farm you had already thought up many picture opportunities, and you couldn’t wait to get to it. The car parked and he gave you the go ahead “You can finally get to your photography, take some pretty pictures” you practically ran to the house to retrieve the camera.

...

You’d been in the house for a hour or two at this point and he’d began to get a bit concerned, usually you’d come outside now and then or spend the afternoon in the barn playing with the animals. But no sign of you. He put the final nail into the fence he was fixing and decided to come check on you.

He got to the front door and could hear you laughing before even opening it “good boy Berty, you’re so handsome” his curiosity peaked at those words, he quietly made his way to the room you and presumably Berty the elderly farm dog was in and observed from the door frame.

There you sat, infront of Berty whose dressed up in various items and fabrics mimicking clothes. The camera clicks and your silent as you watch it develop, Berty still sits patiently. “We got the picture, look at how dapper you look” you praise him and he gets exited leaving all the items fall off his as he runs up to you to get pet.

“When I said pretty pictures I was envisioning landscapes or with artistic vision” he jokes still standing in the door way unable to not smile at such a bizarre but cute sight. You stand shocked for a moment, he’s not one to creep up on you, it when you see his amused smile you loosen back up. “This is artistic vision, and Bertys my muse, look at how handsome” you joke and show him the photo “it’s something alright” he almost laughs out.

“Hey, this is worthy of a museum, the composition the choice of colours the muse, it all tells a story” you continue to joke, he just shakes his head unable to wipe away his smile “as long as your happy, I guess” “I am, thank you again” moments like this you forget everything you went though and are able to exist in ignorance.

Those moments are becoming more frequent now especially since he’s began to become more relaxed, he wasn’t as authoritarian anymore, your sure if you pushed it he wouldn’t have a 2nd thought of going back to the way things were. There’s always that lingering threat but it’s not as pronounced anymore. You’re starting to see the love he has for you, sometimes unconventional and deranged possessiveness but moments like this, seeing him smile and joke you can delude yourself into believing he’s a normal partner.

He brings you in closer by the hips “you’re so cute” his grin is akin to the little boy in those pictures, you’ve seemed to restore a part of his childish cheer. He pecks your lips “I bet the barn animals are missing you, maybe you should take this photography session to them, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the attention”

And that’s what you did, dressed up the chickens though they didn’t stay still -the cows were great models -but a few animals tried to eat the accessories and clothing which made things harder. The farmer got less work done than normal that afternoon as he found it quite amusing and cute watching you through the cracked barn door trying to wrestle a bow onto a goat.

[allastoredeer]

I have no problem with al being a bottom, I just have a hard time with bottom king lucifer as a top. May I have examples to try and see your side?

Exhibit A:

Dat smirk.

Exhibit B:

Soft Top Lucifer

Exhibit C:

Demon Top Lucifer

Exhibit C:

That sexy shoulder bop

Exhibit D:

Look at this guy.

Exhibit E:

Obvious one.

Exhibit F:

I just wanted to post this one cuz I like his smirky little face.

LOL no, seriously though, there's no specific way a character has to act or behave to be deemed a top, bottom or switch. It's a preferred sexual position that isn't dependent on outside factors, it's just what a person enjoys, and what the reader/viewer wants that character to be. That's essentially what it is. It's not based on logic, it's based on what position the fan prefers for them to be in.

Lucifer could do his sexy little shoulder bop and still be a bottom. He can give the most suave, seductive smirk and still be a bottom. It's different for everyone.

But as for why I like top!Lucifer, here are a few reasons:

A) I really like it when shorties top. So often, in almost all fandoms I've been in, the default for a popular ship is the shorter one bottoming and the taller one topping. As a shortie myself, I just...ugh, I get so tired of it. Especially since the bottom is typically softened, UwU-ified, and turned into this delicate little flower. Bringing personal feelings into this, I've been very short and very thin all my life. I've literally been described as "delicate" before, and as someone who enjoys sports, running around, and is just a loud, rough and tumble person by nature, I absolutely hate it. It's given me a lot of mental and emotional issues, and a lot of the treatment and comments I've gotten has made me feel belittled, vulnerable, and weak. So, while being a bottom doesn't mean you're any of those things, short characters have been treated like that for a majority of the fandoms I've been in, no matter what their personality, stature, behaviors, or attitude was, and seeing it brings out of love of dark and negative feelings that I'd rather not re-live when I'm trying to enjoy myself in fandom. (Which is another reason why I dislike so much bottom!Lucifer because he's so often softened down and turned into this naive, dare I say, helpless little lamb. The moment Alastor overpowers him or easily manipulates him into a deal, I am outta there.)

B) Lucifer has that top energy. Can't explain it. He just does. To be clear, I don't see him exclusively as a top. He's a switch. But I do headcanon Alastor as exclusively a bottom, so in any radioapple relationship I write or draw, Lucifer will top.

and C) the most important reason: I like seeing Alastor get railed.

Alastor bottoms in all the ships I have for him and Lucifer is no exception. Besides, I find a lot of versatility and potential in Lucifer being with/fucking a sinner, especially considering his distaste of them. Makes for a good hate-fucking scenario, or a very emotional and in-depth character deep dive of him coming to terms with his own bias and internalized hatred of them and finding love and companionship in one of the very people he despised. That's some delicious mental turmoil and the perfect opportunity for character development.

(LOL there's a lot of talk of Alastor not bottoming because of his ego, and yet nobody considers that maybe Lucifer wouldn't bottom for Alastor because he's a sinner. He is the embodiment of pride after all. So, combining that with his disdain for sinners, would he really "stoop" so low as to let one of them fuck him? Food for thought).

But seriously though, when it comes down to it, I just like Alastor bottoming and Lucifer topping. Yes, bottom!Lucifer and top!Alastor has been soured for me due to popular fandom depictions of it, but even before those were popular, I simply preferred Alastor bottoming. I enjoy it more, not just for his character, but just...because. I just do.

Thing is, I don't think there has to be a list of reasons for why you prefer a character topping, bottoming, or switching. People are allowed to do whatever they want with these characters. It's fandom. This is a playground. We don't have to have a reason, we're just here to have fun.

If you can't see Lucifer as a top, Anon, that is a-okay 👍👍Thanks for asking for a different perspective though, it's always awesome when a person seeks to understand someone else's point of view. I don't know how well of a different perspective I offered, though. I have a hard time answering questions like these bcuz they just don't make a lot of sense to me. It's hard to say why I like something when I just...do. I just vibe with it.

To boil it all down, my examples/answers are all based on what I like and how I feel. I like bottom!Alastor cuz I enjoy it. I like top!Lucifer because I love seeing Alastor get railed - especially by a big, powerful demon king. Very yummy.

Also, LOL, considering Alastor is exclusively a bottom to me, anyone I do ship him with will automatically be the top, regardless of who they are XD So I guess that's an important factor to consider too 😂

I don't know how well I did with answering this, but I do want you to get the perspective you were looking for, so! My fellow bottom!Alastor truthers who are reading this, drop why you like bottom!Alastor in the comments below for our lovely Anon!

I'm curious about what you guys have to say too.

[aphroditelovesu]

Cyrus and Aella Headcanons

❝commission: headcannons about the twins (Cyrus and Aella). — requested by 💻 anon.

❝ 📜 — lady l: I spent a few days thinking about how to create a different but complementary personality for the twins and this came out, I think it turned out good. They're my babies, my first OC's to be honest, and I need to write more for them. I hope you like it and forgive me if there are any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: none.

❝📜word count: 1,208.

Cyrus and Aella have complementary personalities. Cyrus is calmer and more reflective, while Aella is energetic and adventurous. 

From a young age, Cyrus has always demonstrated a serene and contemplative nature. He is a deep thinker, often lost in his own thoughts. He prefers to analyze situations before acting, evaluating all possible consequences.

His ability to formulate complex strategies is unparalleled. Cyrus loves studying ancient texts on military tactics and philosophy, drawing inspiration from great thinkers like Aristotle, who was also a mentor to his father.

Aella, on the other hand, is a true free spirit. Since she was a child, she was known for her tireless energy and thirst for adventure. Always looking for new experiences, she loves exploring unknown territories and engaging in challenging activities.

Aella has a natural talent for leadership. Her courage and determination inspire those around her, and she quickly gains the loyalty of her followers. On the battlefield, her presence is motivating, and her strategy skills are admirable. If she could (and perhaps can) carry a sword, she will.

Unlike Cyrus, Aella often acts on intuition. She trusts her instincts and is willing to take risks that others would avoid. This approach, while risky, often leads to surprisingly positive results.

Aella has a strong sense of justice and is a fervent defender of the oppressed. She does not hesitate to fight for causes she believes are just, even if it means confronting powerful adversaries and defying the laws that prohibit her from doing what she wants just because she is a woman.

The combination of her personalities creates a perfect balance. While Cyrus plans and calculates every move with precision, Aella is ready to act quickly and face any challenge with courage and vigor. If they decided to rule together, it would be almost impossible to stop them.

In crises, Cyrus can calm and guide Aella, while she can encourage him to step out of his comfort zone and make bolder decisions. They complement each other.

Communication between the twins is almost telepathic. They understand each other with a simple exchange of glances, allowing for fluid and efficient collaboration, whether in strategic discussions or battles.

This complementarity makes them unbeatable, whether in the administration of the empire, in leading armies, or in diplomacy. They support each other, using their strengths to cover each other's weaknesses.

Since they were little, Cyrus and Aella have developed a secret language that they use to communicate without others understanding. This makes them even more united and inseparable.

Language includes a combination of hand gestures, facial expressions, small sounds, and even visual cues. Each gesture or sound has a specific meaning, allowing for quick and effective communication.

In situations where they need to communicate without being overheard by others, such as in strategic meetings or on the battlefield or just to hide secrets from their parents, secret language is essential. It allows them to share critical information with others.

Alexander's passion for exploring and conquering unknown lands is inherited by Aella, who frequently ventures beyond the borders of the empire, always accompanied by Cyrus, who prefers to explore through study and diplomacy.

From an early age, Alexander the Great recognized the extraordinary potential of his twin children, Cyrus and Aella. He made sure that they both received exhaustive training in combat and strategy, aware that their skills would be essential to the continuity and expansion of the empire.

In addition to practical training, Cyrus dedicated himself intensely to theoretical studies. He read the texts of Aristotle, Socrates and other philosophers and historians, seeking to understand the dynamics of power, war and politics. His evenings were often spent in the library, where he studied maps and developed new strategies. Cyrus has developed a close bond with his uncle Hephaestion, mainly because they look so much alike.

Cyrus saw Hephaestion as a trusted figure to whom he could turn for advice and emotional support. Hephaestion, in turn, saw in Cyrus a reflection of himself and was dedicated to guiding him in the best way possible. Hephaestion helped Cyrus hone his diplomatic skills, teaching him to negotiate and mediate conflicts with the same effectiveness he demonstrated on the battlefield.

Aella, from a young age, showed an innate talent for combat, despite not actually fighting because she was not allowed to. Her training included a wide range of fighting techniques, from wielding swords and spears to hand-to-hand combat. She trained daily with the best warriors in the army, improving her strength, agility and precision. Due to her aptitude for fighting, although it was not common at the time, Aella ended up becoming quite close to Cleitus, who was mainly the one who taught her.

Cleitus, known for his skill and bravery on the battlefield, dedicated himself to training Aella in advanced hand-to-hand combat techniques. Under his guidance, Aella perfected her use of swords, spears and unarmed combat. Cleitus also focused on developing Aella's stamina and agility, subjecting her to rigorous exercises that made her not only strong but also quick and flexible. This prepared her to face opponents of different sizes and fighting styles.

Aella has a strong connection with nature and animals. She often spends her time in forests and mountains, while Cyrus prefers gardens and libraries. However, they both share a deep love for the natural world.

(Y/N), Alexandre's wife and mother of the twins ensures that her children receive a complete education, with tutors from different areas of knowledge. Cyrus shows great interest in philosophy and history, while Aella is interested in poetry and music.

Cyrus devotes hours to the study of great philosophers, including Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. He enjoys debates about ethics, politics and the nature of knowledge, often discussing these ideas with his tutors and applying them to his life and strategic decisions.

He analyzes the strategies of historical leaders, learning from their successes and failures. This enriches his own strategic capabilities, helping him develop innovative tactics for military campaigns.

Aella studies the works of great Greek poets, such as Homer and Hesiod, as well as the lyrics of Sappho and Pindar. She writes her own verses, expressing her emotions and experiences through poetry. There is no doubt that she inherited her father's love of reading, especially the Iliad.

Aella learns to play several instruments, such as the lyre and the flute and receives training in singing. Her tutors teach her about music theory, composition, and the Greek musical tradition.

The twins feel an innate curiosity about their mother's heritage and if given the opportunity, they will visit their mother's time to learn about her origins and cultures other than Greek.

Over time, Alexandre begins to trust his children's advice more and more. Cyrus becomes a trusted strategist, while Aella helps inspire and lead the troops, earning the soldiers' respect, just as her mother did years ago.

Despite the fierce love and loyalty that exists between the twins, there is a healthy rivalry between Cyrus and Aella, especially during training and games. This rivalry encourages them to constantly surpass each other.

After Alexander's death, Cyrus and Aella assume central roles in preserving and expanding the empire. Cyrus focuses on strengthening diplomatic alliances, while Aella leads military campaigns, both keeping their father's legacy alive.

[moonswolfie]

Princess of the commoner cafe

Oikawa, Miya twins, Ushijima, Hinata, Akaashi x fem!reader

ohshc AU!!

I've been watching a bit of ouran high school host club lately (still havent gotten very far but i am HOOKEDDDDDD) and i'm sure others have written something like this before but i wanted to throw my own hat in the ring and write this delulu ass scenario

also i apologise PROFUSELY if anyone is ooc it has been a WHILE since my last haikyuu rewatch

(btw i am working on your request anon dont you worry ;) )

Somehow, you managed to get into the prestigious Ouran Academy based on your academic success alone. Your parents were overjoyed to send you off, even if you felt embarrased about not even being able to afford the official school uniform. You stuck out like a sore thumb on your first day, that's for sure.

At first, you thought you wouldn't fit in with anyone here. Your hypothesis was mostly correct. Everyone in your class is always talking about their latest designer bag or bragging about their new lambo or bugatti. Needless to say, it's like they're speaking in a foreign language.

They quickly lost interest in you after you couldn't list your top ten designer brands (with reasons as to why you chose those specific ones!!!). Yeah, friends are kind of out of the picture.

So when your curiosity got the better of you one day and you visited the host club all the girls in your class keep squealing about you didn't expect things to develop like this.

"Are you gonna visit today too? Are you?!" Hinata, the boy from the other class attached himself to your arm and looked at you with sparkling eyes. "Of course I am." you smiled at him, a little giddy about returning to the club once more.

"We have a special theme today, just for you..." he told you that while wearing a mischevious grin but refused to elaborate. The boys at the club always go through great lengths to get you curious and draw you back into the club. Not just Hinata, all of them.

Let's just say you've become quite the sensation among the hosts of the Ouran High school host club. You aren't exactly sure how you managed to get yourself in this situation, but you aren't really complaining, either. You'd definitely take being adored by the 6 hotties of the school over being ignored by everyone for all your 3 years of high school.

All you did was visit the club a few times out of curiosity, far too afraid to actually openly interact with the hosts considering the crowd of girls always gathered around them. Not to mention you'd definitely get gawked at for your clothes, mannerisms and conversation topics (and not in a good way).

Akaashi was the first to take notice of you, and somehow that evolved into every other host becoming interested, too.

Anyways, Hinata seemed very satisfied with your promise to come visit once again and ran off, shouting that you have to promise to come visit him first.

Well, there's nothing to it but to do it, you suppose.

.

"Welcome, dear guests, to the host club!" all the guys greeted you and a group of other girls who also came as soon as they possibly could. They were practically pushing eachother in front of the door. Not that you can blame them.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you felt like you were standing at the local cafe located just around the corner from your house. It felt warm and homey. So this is what they went for this time. A strange choice, considering their usually extravagant themes.

"Heya, gir-" Atsumu's smug voice greeted you from behind and you turned around to see that he was about to envelop you in his arms. "Hey, ya lost the bet. I get her first." Osamu pulled Atsumu back by his barista apron before he could actually touch you. Atsumu grumbled something you couldn't quite hear, which you presume was some not so nice words directed towards his brother.

"Actually, I made a promise to Hinata that he'd be the first one I visit." you smiled at the twins apologetically. Neither of them seemed too pleased about the prospect of that, though. "Why? Ya like him more than us?" Atsumu placed his hands on his hips, glaring at you.

"Hahaha, a promise is a promise. I'll be back for you two right after, don't worry." you waved the twins off, winking. That seemed to soften their expressions a bit. But maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, looking back on it. They're definitely going to fight over which one of them you winked at later.

Hinata greeted you enthusiastically, looking overjoyed at seeing you. His cheeks blushed a nice pink color when he smiled at you. "Wait here, wait here." he held out an antique looking chair for you and you sat down behind one of the tables. Then he ran off somewhere.

You're always impressed by how lavishly they decorate their club. I guess being rich can really do wonders for club decor.

"Are you enjoying today's theme? I made sure to pick out some fitting decorations." Akaashi suddenly appeared behind you. You could have sworn you didn't hear his footsteps. Maybe you were just too absorbed in observing the theme, though. Haha, even all the hosts are dressed like baristas.

"Yeah..." you looked into Akaashi's eyes, admiring their color. You've always found him to have a calming presence, even if he can be mischevious at times. That just adds on to his personality, doesn't it? You think it's quite a shame that he isn't as popular as a certain someone in the club.

"It seems to me you're enjoying something other than the theme." you got snapped out of your thoughts by Akaashi's voice. Oops, you must have been staring at him again. You turned away, making a quick apology. You felt a little giddy all of a sudden.

"Oh, but when did I ever say I dislike the attention?" Akaashi gently grabbed your chin, turning your face back to him. Somehow, he seems more affectionate towards you than he does to the other girls who request him. Atleast you've never seen him grab other girls' chins. You were sure you probably looked awestruck in this moment.

"Hey! Stop hogging her to yourself!" Hinata was running back to the two of you, holding a fancy cup of (presumably) coffee. On his way to stop Akaashi from wooing you, he didn't notice a wire below his feet and he tripped over it.

...Which happened to spill hot coffee all over your shirt and shattered the cup to pieces. "Ugh... I'm okay, don't- AAAAH!" Hinata yelled upon seeing your shirt.

"I'll go get new clothes!" Akaashi seemed tense, quickly turning on his heels and running off.

Luckily, the coffee was cool enough to not give you burns. You aren't even worried about the shirt that much either, you've been on the fence about donating it anyways.

"Aaah, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry." Hinata seemed almost dramatically apologetic, bowing down before you in apology over and over.

"What is going on over here?" you heard a smug voice that could belong to one person and one person only. The leader and self proclaimed king of the club, Oikawa, was now approaching the two of you. And he didn't seem very happy, mind you.

"Ah, Oikawa! It's, umm..." Hinata nervously whipped his head around to meet Oikawa's charming chocolate eyes.

"Hinata accidentally spilled coffee on me." Hinata looked at you sadly, like you just betrayed him. You gasped, realising you weren't supposed to reveal that unless you wanted Hinata to feel Oikawa's wrath. Normally he would just scold Hinata for his clumsiness, but when it comes to you specifically, he gets protective. Somehow, he even looks like a supermodel while wearing a barista uniform.

"He... Oh, that won't do. You should spend less time with clumsy good-for-nothings and spend more time with..." he tilted your chin towards him "...Me."

As much as you think Oikawa is an obnoxious jerk, he always manages to charm your negative feelings away when he does something like that. Gets you feeling all giddy like the main character of a badly written shojo anime.

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, bro." you kept your face as cold as you possibly could in that situation. It seemed to you like the word "bro" was a direct stab to his heart, but he quickly recovered, putting on his best flirty face. "I will help you clean yourself up, my princess. We simply must get you out of that dreadful shirt." Oikawa shot poor Hinata a glare. You're definitely buying him "that one good commoner chocolate" (as Hinata likes to call it) later.

"Uh, Akaashi's already-"

"Now now now, what's goin' on here?" things are about to get a lot more complicated, you reckon. Because now the twins have showed up.

"We heard precious china shatterin' and wanted to see what caused it." Osamu added. A few girls were blushing a few meters behind the twins, probably too nervous to approach the two right now.

"Ya said you'd come visit us right after! And now yer here with this a-" Atsumu immediately stopped complaining when he saw your shirt. Both the twins shot poor poor Hinata a glare. (One "poor" for each twin.)

"See, I told ya I was a better fit for ya. I'd never spill coffee on ya." Osamu crossed his arms.

"What do ya mean "the better fit for ya"? Clearly, I'm the better one 'round here. And say the wink was meant for me while we're at it, won't ya?!" Atsumu's anger was now directed back at Osamu. (Akaashi would joke that it's back to where it's supposed to be.)

"I was kinda winking at-"

"Oh, please. Don't joke around with me. We all know I'm the best fit for her." Oikawa posed dramatically, which looked funny because of his not very prince-like outfit.

This always ends up happening. At this point you've given up on stopping it. The twins start bickering with Oikawa while girls on both sides squeal for them to calm down, tearfully inviting the boys back into their embraces.

You look behind you, where Ushijima is staring at you knowingly. You give him a relieved smile, knowing what's about to come. Whenever the other guys get into duels over who gets to recieve your attention, Ushijima is always there to pull you out of the situation.

The duels get so heated that you get to spend a few minutes alone with him before the others even notice you're gone. And so you follow the routine of letting him whisk you away to a lonely corner of the club room.

"Do you know why the theme is a commoner cafe?" he asks after a few moments of silence. He's looking at you with complete seriousness, but you don't miss the hint of a smile on his face. Enchanted by such a sight, you shake your head no dreamily.

"It was to impress you. Akaashi thought of the idea." Your eyes widened. Now you just feel giddy that Akaashi actually remembered that one time you told him you used to visit a cozy cafe close to your house with your parents growing up. It was all the way back when he first acknowledged your existence and decided to sit around with you for a few minutes, sipping tea from a cup that probably costs more than your phone.

"Oh... I like it. I really do." you smiled up at Ushijima. You could swear a bit of blush appeared on his cheeks. He silently put an arm around you, pulling you close to him. You like when he does that.

When all of the hosts are swooning over you like this while wearing barista uniforms, you feel like the princess of a commoner cafe.

[eswel]

The Gojo memorial: the whole story

You may already seen that here in Chile people created a shrine in the subway in order to honour Satoru Gojo. I'll try to recreate the entire chain of events as far as I could gather in social media for everyone's convenience, so you can read about the whole thing in just one post. Buckle up, because we're in for a ride, this story is really good. More under the cut.

Thursday (september 21)

There was an advertisement by Crunchyroll promoting the series at some subway stations. A few people decided to bring some flowers and messages as offering to the character.

(Source)

The thing started to quickly escalate and soon more people started to leave messages, flowers and candles.

I remember seeing a picture of someone from the staff of Metro cleaning the offerings with a broom. I tried to search for it now, but I can't find it anymore. It got buried by the flood of tweets.

*Edit* I found the picture. Someone shared it again.

Friday (september 22)

The next day the memorial became huge. You may think that people were being serious about the whole thing of setting a memorial , but most messages and drawings were humourous. A few of them:

"Steal the sky"

"Paradise won an angel"

"The sky is bluer because of your eyes"

"Fly high"

"The moon will be more beautiful with you up there"

"You'll be the brightest star"

"You broke my heart in two"

"Exorcise the sky"

"You gave everything, my king"

"Gojo lives"

There was even drawings making fun of what happened to him. People patched him up with band-aids and tape. Well, that's our kind of humour, we chileans can have a dark sense of humour.

(Source)

Even some people in cosplay showed up.

In the late hours of the day, the security guards started to dismantle the shrine, just like the previous day. Then they were assigned to custody the advertisement.

(Source)

(Source)

Saturday (september 23)

The next morning Metro changed their minds and allowed the messages and drawings, but they said that candles were forbidden, because they're dangerous. Understandable.

The event had started to make it to the online versions of the news media, but also in the print version for it appeared on the front page of one of the major newspapers. They dedicated 3 pages surrounding the whole thing. One for the memorial itself, one for the cultural importance of the religious practice known as "animitas" and one for the social impact of anime.

(Source)

The shrine continued to grow and people started to leave other offerings like sunglasses and even gummies and chocolates. You see, in our culture when people set up animitas usually they leave things that the person liked. I've never seen this anime and I don't know the character. Does he likes candy? You guys tell me.

(Source)

Sunday (september 24)

By the time I'm writing this post is sunday. I heard the rumour that Crunchyroll called Metro to retire the advertisement, but I cannot confirm if this is true or not. Also, I have the feeling that the whole situation can even appear on TV, considering that we have 2 TV channels dedicated solely to anime, but that would be on monday. We'll see. If I see any new development in the saga of the Gojo memorial I'll update this post.

UPDATE:

Part 2

Part 3

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Soooo, I finished season 4 of the Bear and here are my thoughts. I'm going to tag it with as many spoiler tags as I can, so here's your warning (i got a spoiler kind of by looking at a reply to a comment on a tiktok :( )

Overall, I loved it, not as shouty, I liked the Ever staff being there, I loved the development of Ebra and the sandwich window, Syd's dilemma and seeing more into her life. Most of the things I wanted were done, more time with Richie and him being a mess, Richie taking Syd to the wedding, more of Syd and Ebra. It wasn't as tense, I laughed more. I loved the family feel to it, I wanted Donna to have changed and one of my favourite parts of the season was her talk with Carmy. It was really good, but...

I finished it feeling disappointed. I know this is because I went into it thinking it was the last season, the ending could just be an open ending since we follow Carmy's arc and he's leaving the restaurant, but I went into thinking this is how it ends and when the entire last episode was a drawn out argument in an alleyway that doesn't even give us an epilogue, I was disappointed.

But okay, that's just because of my preconceived ideas, I've had season 3 for a year, and season 4 for a few days, that makes sense, but I got to the end and felt like nothing happened? There were multiple instances of me feeling like they were filling out the run time. It's important to Carmy character and arc to see him enjoying architecture, and seeing how he reacts to seeing most of his family at Tiff's wedding, I get it. But did there have to be so much time spent with no dialogue, just filming the characters staring at each other, or things. I fully realise that I might have just forgotten that the Bear was like this, I didn't rewatch previous seasons before this one, but I wished we could've had more substance rather than characters staring at each other, it felt like they were deliberately drawing things out.

I wanted more Mikey too. This is another problem with expectations vs reality because we saw flashbacks to Mikey's death, it was mentioned, I saw Ebon and Jon behind the scenes pics and heard they were writing an episode, so assumed we were getting a Mikey episode, like his last day alive or something. Instead we got a 5-10 minute scene, and some flashbacks while Richie had a panic attack. Yet again, I've slowly been focusing more on Richie and Mikey, so have forgotten how little of Mikey there actually is in the show, but I still felt let down. I guess we wouldn't see a lot of Mikey, since we only hear or see him through the characters in the show's eyes, he's not his own character fully so seeing into his psyche on his last day alive might not fit, that's fine, this is what we have fanfiction for.

I will say I adored that the Bear name was Mikey's idea, also Carmy saying that Syd is the Bear further solidifies the metas I've seen saying that Syd and Mikey fulfilled the same role in Carmy's life.

I am sure that there'll be a season 5, despite my hang ups about the cast getting bigger acting gigs, especially Ebon now being in the MCU so I am trying to ignore my fears of them just wringing him dry in terms of acting, meaning that there won't be time.

I'm happy with what they did with Carmy and Claire, there was growth in their characters and I felt like it was a lot more natural in terms of them interacting, not fully shouting at each other, Claire being there for Sydney has fully validated my crackship SydClaire ideas to the point that I have a fic idea for that now. The wedding episode and episode 5 were probably my favourite, also episode 8 because of Jess and Richie's talk while folding napkins.

I loved Luca this season. I forgot he was going to be in it. He's such a breath of fresh air. I loved how positive and down to earth he was, especially with Tina and her timings.

I still hope that next season (i'm going on the assumption that there will be one) will have them uniting with Ebra's sandwich window getting better, the advice he's got, whatever the business guy and the computer were scheming, and Syd and Richie having more of a say. I have less hope that they'll make the place less fancy, since they've gotten a good review doing fancy stuff. But I also think they might, they start the season with Mikey and Carmy planning the Bear and wanting it to be a place where people wanted to go, with Ebra's sandwich window making more money and being so popular, and most of the cooking scenes that were special being about food outside the restaurant (Syd cooking for TJ, Carmy cooking for Donna). They also had Richie mention that the energy at the Beef was great, and had Neil talk about how he feels he can't be himself, so that also kind of hints to me that they won't be a Michelin star wannabe, because as much as I like the Ever people, they make the restaurant feel clinic and military like instead of a warm family business. I want the vibes of the Beef with the skill and passion of the Bear, put together. Maybe season 5, if it's the last one, can end with Sydney making the restaurant her's, and Carmy maybe coming back because he's found his love for cooking again

I am pleased that most of my fanfic ideas are still relevant, but watching season 4 has reminded me of so many little details that I want to add to them now. I'm probably going to add Donna and Carmy into my first Mikey lives AU fic (because I've planned sequels), I'm thinking of how to make things change in a believable way, have the restaurant not be Michelin star, but also having the same characters be involved (I want Jess and the Ever crew, Chef Terry, Luca, to all be in it).

I am disappointed and relieved that we heard nothing about Richie's family, it gives me plenty of room to play with but also makes me sad that we got nothing, we heard a little in each season about them (he's not related to the Berzattos and is Polish in season 1, his Dad was in the Army and he moved around a lot in season 2, he's an only child and calls his daughter a polish nickname in season 3). I guess it was solidifying the found family vibes of it all, that photo of the Bears, that Ted takes. My fic idea for Richie's Dad eating at the restaurant, or him reuniting with his Mum still stands, though, so there's that.

I also didn't like the continuing trend of using clips in trailers that aren't in the show. Season 3 had a few clips, but mainly the "Happy Thursday--- It's Saturday" line. But we saw everyone reading the review in season 4's trailer and didn't see any of that. I'm going to take that it's implied that Richie found Syd with how she helps him take deep breaths before the wedding, and how they promise to talk about their problems, I'll add that to the fanfic ideas list.

I loved Richie being sad at the start. I liked how we learnt a little more about Tiff, and Syd's mum being an actress. This just makes me want a prequel to the Bear, maybe called the Beef, with Richie and Mikey being teens, that focuses on Donna, Jimmy and the Berzattos Dad. I will also add that there were a few moments that I thought Sydcarmy shippers would like, I also feel like Marcus' roommate thinks he and Marcus are in a relationship, but Marcus doesn't, which is a funny idea to think about. Also, Pete got a last name!

Overall very good, but it's left me thinking, at least there's fanfiction