#they're so secretive about discomfort

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

hey since I saw another person using "paw balm" on their cat just a reminder that vasoline is perfectly cat safe (yes, even to ingest in small amounts) and vet recommended and cheaper than a lot of alternatives. also remember that tik tok companies are not your friends and you should always check that pet products you buy from there are actually safe because a lot of these fly-by-night, made-to-shut-down-after-they-get-enough-sales companies absolutely do not care if they poison your animal. I have yet to see anything obviously unsafe for dogs or cats but I have seen a shit ton of terrible fish "tanks" (mostly bowls) so I don't doubt some of them are selling other unsafe products.

[shotmrmiller]

(secret lovers but simon will not be kept a secret.)

you hadn't liked him from the get go. amongst the regulars that frequent the place you work at serving drinks, had been him; a burly, massive figure that commanded attention even though his clothes were nondescript and blended into the shadows created by the sickly, flickering lights overhead. his broad shoulders were squared, imposing, the fabric of his faded jeans stretched taut over his knees, tapering down to his scuffed sneakers.

him appearing a menace isn't what made him stand out. it doesn't even make him special, to be honest. one too many rowdy oafs call this hole in the wall a haven, seeking solace at the bottom of a thick glass.

it's the very air around him. it's heavy, muted, as if absorbing sound and movement. that one time you had the displeasure of personally handing him an beer, it'd felt suffocating, pressed down on you, made it hard to breathe. the stillness had been almost palpable, the usual hum of the bar nought but a distant buzz, even the clank of the chilled glass on the table had seemed muffled.

you'd felt the drink slosh over the rim in your haste to get away, retreat, escape. he hadn't even glanced your way and you'd been overwhelmed.

fucking hell.

and that's not the worst of it. the way he looks at people is unsettling. his beady eyes glint with a manic, rabid hunger, fixated on any bare legs that come into his field of view, as if he sees nothing but prey. that turns the discomfort that pricks at your skin into disgust.

revolting bull of a man is a pervert to boot.

(sometimes he comes in with others, 3 much more approachable, charismatic men that pop that personal bubble of oppressive silence he brings with him with their boisterous laughter and lively chatter. they're good folk except for when they want to act like your eyes are on your chest.)

so it's a true shame you spent weeks snarking about how foul he is when he's one of the best lays you've ever had in your life. (and continues to be.)

it's all discreet, of course. you can't be caught having a thing with the man you'd cursed up, down and sideways because he wouldn't stop staring at the tits you let him come on that same week.

you wouldn't even know how to explain how all of this started. that'd he'd been a surprised you and strong armed a belligerent drunk off the property for you a while back? that he'd happened to be around when your car got a flat, pulled out a jack from the bed of his truck and told you to sit your 'pretty arse' inside while he changed it? or that after the nth night of him being the very last patron, you realized he'd only leave after you were done with restocking and ready to close up shop?

you kept it all of it on the down low. pretended you couldn't feel his eyes on you, boring holes into the side of your head while at work then garble out his name through the fingers you're drooling over after work.

and it stayed that way for a while. he never stayed longer than you let him (not like that meant anything, he barely let you out the bed to pick up the door dash before he sat you on the countertop and lapped at your sore cunt until you came.)

he rarely used his phone so there was no worry about sudden texts while you had friends around.

it seemed a fine thing at the time. but then he started sitting at the bar top instead of his usual corner haunt, occasionally calling you over with a curl of his fingers (the ones he had you lick clean last night.) he stopped being a total lech, keeping his eyes glued onto you and you only, being so blatant about it that your co-workers offered to walk you to your car later.

embarrassing. you'd meant to give him a talk about laying off the intensity of his stare but it slipped your mind when he slipped into you from behind while fisting your hair.

when your boss is the one that gives you the stranger danger talk, even though you have said strangers love bites mottling the junction of your shoulder, you decide that enough is enough. so after your shift, you ask to speak with him.

only to have him snort in your face.

"don't think so."

before you get to say anything else, he's sitting you on the hood of his truck, legs hooked over his shoulders, eye level with your bare pussy because he'd stuffed your knickers into his pocket before work.

the first glide of his tongue between your folds is deliberately slow, tip catching the bundle of nerves at the top. your palm stings from digging your nails into it.

the second sends a shiver licking up your spine, his hands dimpling the soft of your thighs to keep you from squirming.

"look at me."

your body reacts instinctively at the low, grating tone of his voice and you're peering down at him before your mind can even catch up.

he nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "best get used to 'avin' me 'round." this was no conversation.

the tips of his fingers grazing over your wet heat, gently prodding the entrance. when he sinks them in, scissoring, thrusting, you realize he's not going to let you come.

this isn't a reward. this is about to be your punishment.

slick glistens on his knuckles under the streetlight as he undoes the zipper of his jeans, the sound of the metal teeth deafening in your prickling ears.

simon puts his hand close to your mouth like he's done in the bedroom, and you spit on it, like you've done in the bedroom.

the searing (but oh so good) burn is both familiar and not when you take him to the root, a shuddering breath escaping your quivering lips at the sensation of him filling you until the seams feel like they're becoming undone.

he lowers his head to nose your sweat-slick temple, large hands flat by your sides. his breaths warm your throat as he speaks.

"i won't be your dirty little secret, pet."

a hand creeps up to the nape of your neck, claiming a fistful of hair. simon pulls a sibilant hiss from you when he tugs hard enough to ache.

ouch.

"can't shove me in a closet and pocket the key." he rolls his hips once, twice before widening his stance.

oh.

oh no.

"now be good and let me take what's mine."

there'd been no arguing with him before he fucked you in earnest, and certainly not after when he takes you home, spend dripping onto his seat on the way there, where he makes you ride him on the driveway, only letting you go inside once he felt he got his message across.

(message understood.)

the next morning you wake to sore thighs, a throbbing pussy, a dry mouth and a text from your boss.

i've got cameras outside the place, by the way. go home next time.

at least you didn't get fired 🥴

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Hi I'm new I have several ideas but Idk if there's a limit so I'll just do a enhypen one

Popular jock jay × nerd loser male reader

Jay and his friends are jerks but what they don't know is jay hooks up with male reader in the school bathroom during lunch

Our Secret

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Popular jock!Top!Jay × Nerd!Loser!Bottom!Male reader

Genre: smut

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: There's no limit to requests; you can request as much as you want.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

"Come on, Jay, you're totally missing out," said Jake, one out of six of Jay's closest friends, as they congregated near the lockers before lunch. "You should have seen the fresh meat in the art room. They're like a bunch of scared rabbits waiting to be picked off." The group of jocks, known as "ENHYPEN" shared a round of laughter that echoed through the hallways, causing nearby students to glance over warily.

Jay couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort at Jake's words. He knew his friends could be harsh, but he had never quite seen them this way. They had always been a tight-knit group, bonded by their shared love of sports and their dominance in school social circles. But lately, their behavior had been escalating, and Jay found himself questioning if he truly belonged.

As they approached the crowded cafeteria, Jay spotted M/n sitting alone at a table in the corner, surrounded by untouched textbooks and half-hearted doodles. M/n was the school's resident nerd, often the butt of the ENHYPEN's jokes, but there was something about him that Jay couldn't ignore. his sharp intellect, his quiet dignity in the face of constant ridicule—it intrigued him. Jay had noticed M/n's eyes lingering on him during classes, filled with a mix of curiosity and wariness, and he couldn't deny the flutter of attraction he felt in return.

The bell for lunch rang, and the hallways emptied as students flooded into the cafeteria. Jay's friends moved to claim their usual table, the one that sent a clear message to the rest of the school: this was their territory. But Jay lingered, his gaze still on M/n. He knew he had to make a choice—stick with the group or take the risk and go to M/n. The decision was surprisingly easy. He broke away from the pack and headed towards the quiet corner.

As he approached, M/n looked up, surprise etched on his face. "Hey," Jay said, trying to sound casual as he slid into the chair across from him. "Mind if I sit?"

M/n's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing Jay's intentions. "What do you want?" His voice was guarded, expecting the worst.

Jay took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the weight of his decision. "I just wanted to talk. You know, like a human being," he said with a tentative smile.

M/n studied him for a moment before his expression softened. "Okay."

They talked about classes, teachers, and the upcoming exams, and Jay found himself genuinely enjoying the conversation. M/n was witty and insightful, and Jay was surprised at how much they had in common. He felt a pang of regret for not reaching out sooner, but he also knew that his friendship with M/n would be a secret. If his friends found out, they would never let him hear the end of it.

As they talked, Jay's hand accidentally brushed against M/n's, sending a jolt of electricity through him. He quickly pulled away, his cheeks flushing. He had never felt this way about a guy before, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. He glanced around, making sure no one had noticed, and leaned in closer. "Look, I know this is weird, but I've got to tell you something."

M/n leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What's up?"

Jay swallowed hard, his heart racing. "I know you're not into guys," he began, his voice low, "but I can't help it. I… I like you."

M/n froze, his eyes wide. "What?"

Jay took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. "I said, I like you. I know it's not what you're expecting, but I can't ignore it anymore."

M/n's eyes searched Jay's, looking for any sign of a joke or a setup for a cruel prank. But all he saw was sincerity and vulnerability. "Are you… are you serious?"

Jay nodded, his throat dry. "Yeah, I am. I know it's messed up, considering who I am and who you are, but I can't just pretend it's not there."

M/n blinked rapidly, processing the unexpected confession. "I… I don't know what to say," he stammered.

"You don't have to say anything," Jay rushed to reassure him. "I just wanted you to know. We can keep it between us."

M/n's gaze remained on Jay, contemplating the implications of his words. He felt a strange mix of emotions—flattery, confusion, and a hint of excitement that was immediately squashed by fear of what this could mean for both of them. "But what about your friends?" he whispered, glancing over at the ENHYPEN table where they were now watching with unabashed curiosity.

Jay's expression grew solemn. "They don't have to know. This can be our secret." He reached out and took M/n's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of Jay's touch sent a shiver down M/n's spine, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe it could work.

But the cafeteria wasn't the place to explore these feelings. "I've got to go," M/n said abruptly, standing up and collecting his books. "I have a test to study for."

Jay's eyes widened in surprise. "Can we talk somewhere else, then? Maybe in the bathroom?"

M/n hesitated, his heart racing. The idea of being alone with Jay in such a private place was both thrilling and intimidating. But he also knew that the bathroom was one of the few spaces in school where they could be themselves without fear of prying eyes. "Okay," he murmured, and together they made their way to the nearest bathroom, their hearts pounding in unison with each step.

Once inside, Jay locked the door behind them, and the tension grew palpable. The room was dimly lit, the only sound being the distant echo of water in the pipes. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the air thick with unspoken words and desires. Jay's hand found its way to M/n's cheek, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw as they moved closer. Their eyes searched for answers in the depths of the other's gaze before their lips met in a tentative kiss.

The kiss grew more urgent as the reality of their situation set in. Jay's athletic body pressed against M/n's smaller frame, and M/n felt the undeniable thrill of the jock's attentions. Jay's hands began to explore, his fingers dancing along M/n's collarbone and down to the hem of his shirt. M/n's breath hitched as Jay's hand slipped underneath, caressing the bare skin of his stomach. The sensation was overwhelming, and he found himself responding, his own hands fumbling with the buttons of Jay's shirt.

They stumbled into a stall, the door slamming shut behind them. Jay pushed M/n against the cold metal divider, their kisses growing more passionate. Jay's hand roamed lower, finding the bulge in M/n's pants, and he gasped as Jay's strong grip began to stroke him through the fabric. The feeling was intense, a delicious mix of fear and desire. They were both panting now, their breaths mingling in the small space. Jay broke the kiss to whisper, "Let me make you feel good."

M/n nodded, his eyes glazed with want. Jay unbuckled M/n's pants, freeing his erection, and took it in his hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle, despite the urgency of the moment. M/n's legs trembled as Jay's expert strokes sent waves of pleasure through him. He leaned back against the stall door, his head spinning. Jay's own pants were undone now, and he was stroking himself in time with M/n's gasps.

The sound of the bathroom door opening sent a bolt of panic through them, but it was only the hiss of the old pipes. They were still alone, their secret safe for now. Jay's hand moved faster, his grip tightening, and M/n knew he was close. He reached down and wrapped his legs around Jay's waist, pulling him closer. Jay took the hint, and with a grunt, he pushed into M/n without preamble. The pain was sharp but brief, replaced almost immediately by an intense fullness that made M/n's eyes roll back in his head.

They moved in a rhythm that seemed to defy the very air around them, their bodies fitting together in a way that was almost too perfect to be real. Jay's muscles tensed and flexed with each thrust, his breath hot against M/n's neck as he whispered dirty words that sent shivers down his spine. M/n's own hands were clutching Jay's shirt, holding on for dear life as the pleasure built inside him. He felt like he was going to break apart, but Jay's strong arms kept him anchored, kept him safe.

M/n could feel his climax approaching, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Jay's eyes never left his, filled with a fiery need that seemed to burn through every inch of M/n's soul. He whispered Jay's name, and that was all it took for Jay to pick up the pace, driving into him with an urgency that was almost violent in its intensity. M/n threw his head back, his mouth open in a silent scream as he came, the warmth of his release spilling over Jay's hand.

Jay followed close behind, his own orgasm ripping through him like a storm. He buried his face in M/n's neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. They remained there, their breaths mingling in the small space, for a moment that felt like an eternity. It was a moment of pure, unbridled passion that neither of them had ever experienced before.

As they both began to come down from their high, the reality of their situation crashed back in. Jay pulled out gently, his eyes searching M/n's for any signs of regret. But all he saw was a dazed look of satisfaction. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice thick with concern.

M/n nodded, his cheeks still flushed. "Yeah, I'm fine," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was… intense."

Jay managed a small, shaky laugh. "Yeah, it was." He reached for a wad of toilet paper, cleaning them both up before helping M/n to stand properly. They stared at each other for a moment, the gravity of what they had just done weighing heavily on their minds.

"We can't do this again," M/n said, his voice cracking slightly. "What if someone finds out?"

Jay nodded, his expression serious. "I know. It's just… I couldn't resist." He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to caress M/n's cheek. "But we'll be careful. We'll find a way."

M/n pulled away, his eyes searching Jay's. "But what about your friends? They can't find out."

Jay's smile was tight. "Don't worry about them. They're not going to know unless you tell them." His thumb traced M/n's swollen bottom lip. "This is just between us."

M/n nodded, his heart racing. He knew the risks, but the thrill of the secret was intoxicating. They quickly straightened their clothes and Jay unlocked the stall door, peering out to ensure the coast was clear. They stepped out, trying to look as casual as possible, despite the tremors of pleasure still vibrating through their bodies.

The bathroom was empty, the echoes of their passion now just a memory. They walked back to the cafeteria, their steps measured and their eyes fixed straight ahead. The whispers of their classmates, the cackles of the ENHYPEN members, and the clatter of silverware faded into the background as they replayed the intensity of their encounter in their minds.

For the rest of the day, Jay couldn't focus on anything but the feel of M/n's body against his, the way his breath had hitched, the sweet sound of his moans. It was like a secret fire burning within him, threatening to consume him if he didn't get more. And he knew M/n felt it too, the way his eyes had searched Jay's when they'd parted, the way his hand had lingered on the stall door handle, as if he didn't want to leave.

The next day, the tension between them was palpable, but they both played it cool in public. Jay's friends noticed his distraction and teased him mercilessly, assuming it was one of the cheerleaders he'd been chasing. But Jay just took it in stride, his mind elsewhere.

During lunch, Jay made his way to M/n's usual spot, his heart racing with anticipation. M/n looked up from his book, and their eyes met, the secret shared between them like a silent promise. They exchanged a knowing smile, and Jay felt his heart flutter in his chest.

As the days turned into weeks, their secret meetings in the bathroom during lunch became a thrilling ritual. The danger of being caught added a layer of excitement to their encounters, making every touch, every kiss feel like a stolen moment of pure rebellion. Jay found himself looking forward to these meetings more than any game or party, the allure of M/n's intelligence and the intensity of their passion a heady mix that he couldn't resist.

[bizbat]

hiii

so i had a thought of like, jason with a gf who has trouble getting wet no matter how turned on she is, and she’s embarrassed so she kinda puts off them having sex for a while.

and he’s so confused and just thinking that she doesn’t like him enough or something until one day he finally says something and she gives in and tells him

and he’s just sitting there like “…. you mean all we had to do was buy lube?”

and then wonderful (smutty.) things ensue

please and thank you, mwah 😘

Not A Problem . . .

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Jason Todd x Fem!AFAB!Reader

~ Explicit Smut

~ Reader is not described.

~ Wc:1.039k

~ You can find more of my works here.

C/W: Smut, PiV penetration, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Pet names (Angel, Baby, Pretty), Mdom, FSub, Healthy Dom/Sub dynamics (communication, explicit consent), Use of the terms "cunt", "pussy", "tits", "ass", "cock", "asshole", Non-penetrative sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstim, Teasing, Hair pulling, Crying, Dacryphilia

It really, really isn't.

Looking back now, you can't believe you were ever worried about it.

You vividly remember pushing off advancing your relationship with Jason in that way, terrified of what he might say, how he might react. You remember having to hype yourself up to tell him, getting all serious, sitting him down one day after "work", you'd even spent the day thinking up clever segways into the conversation.

The topic, of course, being that no matter how hard you try, you cannot get wet.

No matter how much foreplay, no matter how much you touch yourself, you can't bring your body to secrete those famous, ever-important juices. And it's been really hard. In past relationships, you've either been forced to deal with the discomfort, or deny sex all together. But not with Jason.

You wanted to do everything with him, kiss him, love him, fuck him, everything. Which is why you got all serious with him to begin with. You remember telling him you had something you wanted to talk about, sitting beside him on the couch, and holding his hands in yours as you took a deep breath, and began explaining your problem. He was very sincere as he listened to you, his eyes never leaving your nervous face as he patiently let you explain the issue that had been plaguing your previous relationships. He took the whole thing very seriously.

Or at least, he did, until you had stopped speaking. Once the heavy silence overtook the room, he could no longer hold back the small smile that spread across his face, nor the tiny chuckle that escaped his lips. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth to try to hide it before you could catch it, but the look of betrayal had already been plastered clean across your face. He cracks up as he reaches out to grab at your fleeting figure.

Honestly though, you're not sure why you ever so worried to begin with. Jason's head stuffed between your thighs is enough evidence to convince you he was never gonna judge you. The spit dripping down your thighs in thick rivers is all the reassurance you could've needed. His tongue furiously stroking your clit as his fingers pump in and out of your sweet cunt prove his dedication to pleasing you, no matter what little obstacles present themselves in your relationship.

He groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up your core, tingling up your back as you arch up from the plush carpet on the floor, which you're sure you'll have to replace. Your hands harshly tug at his dark locks, which, only makes him moan louder. Your legs strain from where they're laid over his shoulders, your hips tiredly thrusting against his soaking wet face.

Your eyes are far too blurry for you to see the lovestruck look on his face. At this point, what feels hours into eating you out like a man starved, he's just as out of it as you are, borderline losing brain function from the lack of oxygen. He's gone he barely even notices his cock painfully straining against his pants, or the ache forming in his knees and thighs from kneeling over you.

At some point, you have to push him away, your clit too sensitive to take any more abuse from his fingers, lips, and tongue. Your chest heaves up and down as you try your best to pull yourself away from his hungry mouth, your legs too tired to do anything to offer any kind of real service. Jason can only laugh at your desperate attempts, a combination of spit and slick coating your thighs and ass, making your skin glint and glisten so beautifully under the soft, warm light of your apartment.

He follows your pussy with his mouth as you squirm away. Your weak body only manages to pull you a few inches from where you originally started, only laying on your tummy now, instead of your back. He lets out a laugh, it's tired and raspy and like music to your ears, as he leans down and grips both of your ass cheeks, pulling them apart so he can spit a fat glob of saliva onto your tight asshole. He watches in an almost manic delight as it slowly spills down onto your drenched pussy, puffy from his tireless mouth. "Ah ah ah pretty," He coos at you gently, his hands gripping onto your hips to stop you from pulling away any more. "Gotta make sure you're nice an' wet, yeah?"

He's really gotta be out of it, to not see the buckets of secretion spilling down your thighs, and dripping from your cunt like a faucet. Regardless, he's still not satisfied, watching in amusement as your ass shakes when he delivers a wet slap. You can't tell if it was a harsh slap, or if your body is just too sensitive from his touch at this point, but you still gasp either way, fresh tears spilling from your eyes and dripping down your flushed cheeks.

"Don't we baby? Answer me." He groans biting his lip at the sight of your tears. You can't even remember the question, you think you say yes, but your brain isn't sending the proper signals to your mouth at the moment, so for all you know, you just let out incoherent babble. Either way, Jason seems to be pleased, murmuring out some sort of praise as he goes back to burying his head in-between your thighs.

His hands tug and squeeze at your ass, the fat filling his hands so deliciously, as he sucks and slurps at your cunt like it was his favorite meal on the planet. And truly, it might just be. He couldn't be more thankful that you told him you had a hard time getting wet, because now it gave him the excuse to eat you out for as long as physically possible.

And fuck, you'll let him. You almost feel stupid for worrying about it in the first place. Your fears that he wouldn't want to have sex with you after finding out, feel like a joke now. Clearly, to him, it's not a problem. It really, really isn't.

[shepscapades]

looking through your docsuma tag.....love them. wish they had one more combined braincell so they could realize their feelings

HERE'S THE THING THOUGH OKAY the problem is actually that they're both too smart about their feelings. you've got me down a horrible rabbit hole okay let me do my best to explain without being a freak(reading this back over, i failed <3).

Xisuma takes longer to realize, first of all. He's got so much to deal with coming out of s8 and through the beginning of s9 that quite frankly he's really just grateful to have another friend he can count on and trust, and he's so consumed by getting the androids back in working order on top of his actual season 9 plans (on top of Cleo shoving self care down his throat and demanding that he make a better habit of taking breaks and taking care of himself, which takes a LONG time to adjust to, if it can be argued that he ever does) that he doesn't really realize he's developed feelings for Doc until his heart beats him over the head with it randomly one day. Probably sometime in S10. Even then, because of said busy-ness, I think Xisuma has a very hard time getting over the meta-ness of a creator developing feelings for his creation and the selfishness of that reality amidst all of his other responsibilities, and he is likely too scared/overwhelmed to entertain the thought of the feelings themselves, much less the likelihood of reciprocation or the fantasy of a relationship.

Doc, on the other hand, realizes he is developing feelings for Xisuma kind of steadily throughout the course of s9, since that's when they start spending so much more time together in the lab working on androids and improving android tech. As a general statement, Doc is very aware of himself, all of the time. His awareness of the self is very important to his sense of normalcy and control, so any time he experiences a new emotion, he notes it, logs it.

So, while he's very aware of the feelings he's developing as they happen, he doesn't quite put a name to it/realize what it actually is until he talks to Tango and Etho, funnily enough--It's definitely one of those moments where Tango or Etho or whomever are explaining their struggles with the physical manifestations of their... idk, lovesickness-- ie, thirium pump rate irregularities, temperature fluctuations, influxes of feelings they've described as a combination of longing, affection, want, happiness, yearning... and Doc, as the unbiased third party to put 2 and 2 together, explains to them that those are obvious signs of romantic attraction, only very belatedly realizing several hours later that those are the exact symptoms he hasn't quite been able to put a name to. Naturally he's exceptional about being quiet about this realization until he slips up during a maintenance check-in with Tango sometime after, who is not doing well in s9, and Tango (mid romance-ranting) catches the passing of a wistful expression on Doc's face and calls him out for "totally thinking about someone right now" (Teasing aside, tango promises to keep Doc's secret).

So, despite knowing well his feelings before X ever develops his own, Doc is actually very, very careful about them-- He knows more than anyone else how busy Xisuma is. He knows how stressed X is. He also knows Xisuma seems to be more knowledgeable when it comes to emotions and feelings, and despite the clear signs that Xisuma shows interest(?) in him as well, Doc can only assume there is a good reason nothing romantic has happened between them-- he trusts Xisuma more than anything, and he--firmly-- will not breach this trust by acting on something Xisuma does not seem to be ready for (or does not seem to want yet(yet?)). Therefore, Doc is patient, and even though as Season 10 develops and Doc becomes aware of the likelihood that Xisuma could return the feelings, he trusts Xisuma's emotional intuition more than anything. He, painfully, recognizes Xisuma's discomfort (or hesitation), concludes that there must be a missing variable in this equation he cannot grasp, and decides to let Xisuma lead because of it. He will not push farther than he feels Xisuma has.

It's definitely one of those "fell first" "fell harder" type situations I think. I'm normal about them. can you tell

[auspicioustidings]

Now I pretty much missed the whole thing, but to be clear Barracks Bunny is a derogatory term which is why it's hot in the context of dark content? It's also very hot to imagine the likes of Soap actively claiming the term because he loves that it's a degrading way to call him a slut? Like you are interacting with darkfic, what's not clicking?

Anyway, Gaz gets Soap for secret santa and gets him a playboy bunny outfit as a gag gift only to be gagged when he swans in wearing it with no shame what so ever. This man has been slutting about and not one of his team has called him on it or teased him or said something horribly mean, what's a man gotta do to get some degradation around here? He's trying his fucking best to get one of them to say something mean and they're all just letting him live his life and being supporting? Christ he hopes the discomfort of the thong trying to bisect him and the time he took to make one of the bunny ears flop over just so isn't a waste and they actually take the damn bait for once.

[jellybeanium124]

being a white passing american jew is a perspective worth talking about, I think. because on the one hand I'm not a person of color. I've been treated as if I am white by society my whole life. I have access to white privilege as long as I keep my true ethnic identity a secret. and because of all this I internalized racist ideas same as white people did, which are now baked into my head, and I have to unlearn them. on the other hand, I am part of a racial/ethnic minority that is on the receiving end of a lot of bigotry, especially right now. so I know how it feels to be on both sides of this.

and as I'm sure everyone knows bc white people love being guilty and crying in public, unlearning racism is uncomfortable. catching yourself thinking something racist is uncomfortable. you want to believe you're a good person but then you think or say or do something that really isn't okay (and if you say or do something, you fucking apologize, because you're a grown up). it's that squirmy feeling in your chest, that guilt in your stomach. and something a lot of white people have trouble with is the fact that your discomfort is 10 million times less important than being antiracist. it's human to put your comfort first, but it's wrong, and as long as a white person values their personal comfort above being an antiracist ally, they aren't an antiracist ally.

the thing is most white people on tumblr are at least... vaguely aware of this. at least aware that they have internalized racism they need to work through. but for some ~magical~ reason goyim do not seem to realize that they maybe just might have some internalized antisemitism to work through. so when they get that squirmy feeling that comes from being called an antisemite, they lash out (not that white people don't lash out when they're called a racist, because of course they do). I think a lot of goyim on here just straight up aren't thinking that there's any possibility they may have internalized antisemitic ideas.

so to any goy reading this: you grew up in an antisemitic world. you have antisemitic ideas baked into your head that you need to unlearn. you might have to apologize for something you say or do. and as long as you prioritize not feeling uncomfortable over being a jewish ally, you're not an ally to the jewish people.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 10)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2960

A/N: A lovely human asked me today if this fic is over and I thought damn I got to update quick before I lose all my readers. Hope 2024 is treating you all well, here's to the first post of the year!

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 10, Next Chapter

You opened your eyes scanning the room you're in, first you saw the curtains shut. Clothes neatly pilled on the side, a messy stack of books and parchment. Then you turned around and saw the back of Remus's head as he slept peacefully. Thoughts of guilt, lust and memories flooded your head. You began to think whether he regrets last night, was it just a drunk mistake, what do you say to him when he wakes up. You felt him move and turn towards you, on his face a gentle smile. "Morning dear, how'd you sleep?" He asked and kissed your forehead.

"Really well, you?" He scooped you closer with his arms to his chest.

"Let's ignore the conversation we have to have now and just savour this moment." He whispered while cuddling close to you.

"I like that idea." You replied breathing in his smell. Your heart felt full and you felt so comfortable like this was the place you were waiting to be your whole life, and he didn't seem to regret it but rather welcome it.

"Now dear would you like some coffee? Breakfast?" He asked softly not letting you go.

"What a gentleman." You joked in return.

"I try my best." He said with a wink before kissing the top of your head and standing up, he put on a T-shirt and his trousers from last night. "I'll start making the coffee, rest as long as you want."

You lay there in naked confusion and bliss, you were happy but you were confused. You had no idea how you will face him in class after waking up in his bed. You got out of bed putting on yesterdays clothes and grabbing one of Remus's sweaters for warmth before making your way down to the kitchen. The room smelt of coffee, Remus looked younger for a moment with messy hair and wearing no socks on the cold floor as he made coffee. He turned around with a smile. "Good morning, nice jumper." He said with a wink. He winked a lot you noted, maybe he was just as nervous as you right now. "Do you like it with milk or black?" He asked.

"Splash of milk please, no sugar." You confirmed and he followed your instructions and handed it to you. "Perfect thank you."

"Care to join me on the roof for a smoke and coffee? Then we can think of breakfast plans." He said walking towards the stair case and you followed. You sat down side by side on two chairs, it was cold but you didn't mind. "You know this has always been my guilty pleasure, coffee and a cig the morning after, I thought it made me cool." He admitted looking out onto London.

"It makes you look cold, I'm not sure if cool is the right word." You said and he laughed lightly to response, shaking his head.

"It used to calm my nerves because I wasn't sure what to do with a girl in the morning after, how guys are meant to act, so I figured out to start my mornings with a smoke and conversation, not that this is a common occurrence."

"What you don't sleep with your students often?" you joked to ease your discomfort about this whole situation.

"I don't sleep with anyone often, especially students."

"Why?"

"Because they're my students and I have somewhat of a professional-" You interrupted him by saying "No I mean why don't you sleep with people often."

"Y/N you know what I am."

"So?"

"So, being around me, close to me is not only dangerous but also a burden to a persons life. Therefore I've found it's better to focus on solitude and not burden anyone else who I may possibly care for. Y/N I am not a man I am-" You once again cut in to stop Remus Lupin from his usual self-loathing pit. "I'm hungry."

He quickly checked his watch "We could go to a bakery about 5 minutes away they should be open, we can grab some pastries if you'd like."

"What time is it?" You asked in fear.

"Half past nine, why do you need to be somewhere?" He asked with a slight painful tang behind his voice.

"The Weasleys, I was meant to be staying there. I need to go before they all wake up." You said leaving your coffee and heading down to Remus's bedroom, Remus followed you down.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, just tell them you fell asleep on the sofa." He tried to calm you as you put on your jacket and gathered your belongings.

"No, I'll never hear the end of this. Molly will kill me." You said in panic.

"Y/N you're an adult they'll understand, just stay finish your coffee, I can write to Molly that you are here." He said placing a hand on your shoulder to calm you.

"I'm sorry Remus I don't want to run like this but I have to, I don't want to try and explain why I'm here in the morning. Happy new year." You simply said to him as his face dropped into a frown.

"Happy New Year." He said quietly and you apparated to the Weasleys house. You didn't know that you left Remus with a feeling of enormous guilt, he felt like he used the opportunity of you drunk to sleep with you and now you regretted it. He was reminded of your age by the way you rushed home, you may be eighteen but you still sometimes behaved like someone's daughter and that made Remus feel uneasy about perusing you, especially when you have to rush home the morning after. Rush home to a friend of his. The guilt ate him alive as he cleaned the coffee that you didn't finished and put out your half-smoked cigarette. In that moment he made a decision, he messed up, he got close to you and kissed you because he couldn't control himself and based on how you ran out the house you obviously regretted everything.

You on the other hand felt guilty for leaving, Remus treated you nicer than anyone else you've ever slept with, he made you coffee, he cared, it filled your heart with warmth, you knew you'll have to apologise for how you left. You slowly walked through the house up to the spare room you were staying in when you bumped into Percy who was going to the bathroom. He gave you a quick look up and down in a judgmental way and didn't even say hi, then as you passed the twins' room they opened the door with big grins. "Nice jumper." They both said at once. You looked down and saw you left in Remus's jumper.

"Shit." You took it off in that very moment in panic. "Don't tell anyone." You warned them.

"Our lips are sealed." They said in unison. "Although we will high five him next time we see him." Fred shrugged.

"Don't you dare Weasley." You warned.

"So how was sleeping with our dear professor?" George asked.

"Was it everything you dreamed of?" Fred added.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it at least good?" Fred pushed.

"The best I've ever had. And he made me coffee in the morning and hugged me and kissed me." You felt like you were melting just thinking about it.

"The best?" Fred repeated.

"Who knew prof would be so good." George added.

"Let's not talk about it, I actually have to sit in his class after this." You felt a bit sick at the idea, that was the end of that conversation. You quickly went to take a shower and change. After that you wrote a letter to Remus apologising about leaving so soon and thanking him for the coffee. He didn't reply. You sent him another three letters over the next few days making sure he's okay however he didn't reply. So you got the message, and he did regret it, he was just being nice to you in the morning because he was a good person. You were nervous to go back to Hogwarts but you decided you won't let New Years stop you. You came back a week before term, and you thought it may be good to bump into Remus before term starts to talk. You went to the bridge but he didn't, you knocked on his office but no one answered, you even tried to find him using the map but it was like he was always waking away from you.

You finally saw him on the first day of term, he was sitting eating breakfast in the great hall with all the teachers. You received and owl and it was from him but he didn't look up at you at all.  The letter read:

"Welcome back to the new term miss L/N.

As previously agreed our tutoring continues to prepare you for you exams.

- Professor R.J.Lupin"

You looked up at him but he didn't look at you.

In his lesson that day you sat nervously in your seat, you were sitting next to Sebastian as you and Percy weren't on talking terms after New Years. "Are you okay?" Sebastian whispered watching you move around in your seat nervously waiting for Lupin to arrive to the classroom.

"Just nervous about exams." You explained to him, he put a hand on your leg to steady it. "It's okay you'll do great, I've got some calming fraught if you want it though." He said and you nodded. He slipped  you the potion and you drank it, you didn't realise that around the time Sebastian put his hand on your leg Remus was walking in the classroom and watching the whole interaction. "Better?" Sebastian asked and you nodded in response. "Thank you." You said and he gave you a smile before moving his hand from your leg as you had stopped shaking from stress. Remus cleared his throat as he stood at the front of the classroom. "Welcome back I hope you've all had a good new year," Remus said, looking at you intensely during the last three words. You instantly felt hot however because of the position you didn't feel worried instead slightly turned on as you looked back at him, after a moment of eye contact he ripped his eyes away.

"Now I'm sure you're all nervous, but I will get you as prepared for your exams as possible all I ask is for you to listen and pay attention and that way I can help you." He continued, his eyes kept catching yours as if he couldn't look away and you were now enjoying the attention as all stress had left your body. However the closer to the end of the lesson it got the more the potion started to wear off and you could no longer look Lupin in the eye, he noticed the change in you and was very confused, he simply couldn't read you, he knew you took a potion however he wasn't sure what you took, he suspected it was calming draught but he had to ask you in your tutoring session if you show up. You considered skipping it but you knew you had to speak to Remus sooner or later and you didn't want to fail your exams because of him.

You lightly knocked on his office door filled with a bit of anxiety, he was sitting marking papers when you came in and he smiled gently at you but you could see he was on edge just like you. "Good afternoon Miss L/N. I hope you had a good Christmas." He greeted you and it filled you with anger that he was just pretending nothing happened.

"Can we talk?" You asked quietly sitting down on a chair near the front.

"Is it about your studies?"

"Obviously not." You snarked and he sighed pulling up a chair opposite you.

"We shouldn't, it's my responsibility to prepare you for your exams and" he began before you interrupted with a simple. "Remus." He loosened his tie and sighed.

"I'm really sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry for what I did, I should've been the responsible adult, I'm your teacher for fuck sake." He began and he looked visibly upset.

"Do you regret it?" You asked gently.

"Obviously, I shouldn't have put you in that situation. I pushed myself onto you, I knew my feelings for you I shouldn't have spoken to you at all if I was drinking."

"But I wanted to kiss you."

"Y/N I'm your teacher." He said as a matter of fact.

"So I don't care do you? Answer honestly."

"No." He shook his head and swallowed hard.

"Would you want to kiss me again?" He did say anything he just looked at your lips. "Answer honestly Remus." You added and he shook his head.

"Then do it." His eyes didn't leave your lips for a moment and then he made eye contact with you and he simply said "I can't."

"Why?" You asked him pleading.

"Because I am falling incredibly hard for you, and all I'm going to do is hurt you. Because I am your teacher. Because I can't offer you anything much more than a tea and a great music taste and an awful lot of knowledge on books."

"I don't care, you made me feel special, you make me feel loved."  You continued to beg.

"Don't lie to me I saw how you ran out the house." He said with a angry and annoyed tone.

"I wrote to you three time to apologies, and you ignored every single letter." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"You did?" His complexion changed suddenly.

"Yes. But I got the message that you rather ignore all this happened."

"Y/N, I wanted to make you coffee, take care of you and then talk to you like an adult about what this means for our lives here, but you ran out and the only letter I received was this from Percy." He said pulling out a letter that was crumbled up in his pocket, the address was Hogwarts, of course, all your letters went to the cottage but he didn't go there he came straight to the castle it all clicked.

"Why did Percy write to you?" You asked softly and he just handed you the letter to read.

"Dear professor Lupin,

As head boy I urge to remind you that you are our professor within and outside school grounds. And I believe you don't need to be reminded of school rules, especially for a man with your condition losing this job may be disastrous.

Happy new year, P. Weasley Head boy of Gryffindor"

"That prick." You said quietly and looked up at Remus. "I promise I didn't tell him anything."

"How would he know?" Remus asked he looked like you betrayed him.

"Your jumper," you began and Remus have you a puzzled look. "I came home in it the morning after and Percy saw me, he gave me a look of hate, we haven't talked since." You answered honestly. "Remus I'm sorry about this, can you ignore it and can we have this conversation based on our own opinions." You said and Remus sighed.

"No matter what I am your teacher and we've crossed a line."

"How do you expect me to focus in your lessons after what you've done to me professor?"

"Fuck you calling me professor like it doesn't turn you on." He said looking away and taking a deep shaky breath. "Can I kiss you one last time dear?" He asked and you nodded. And he leaned over the desk to kiss you slowly, the kiss was desperate and slow, as if he was savouring the moment, he put a hand on your cheek and tucked your hair behind your ear just like he did that first morning.

"Don't make it the last." You said as soon as he pulled away.

"Dear, as soon as you realise I'm just a broke man who's been cursed since childhood the sooner you'll realise you don't want me, so many men will be able to offer you the world, I won't."

"I hate you, I hate that you won't even give yourself a chance to be happy." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"Y/N I'm trying to protect you." He pleaded.

"Or maybe you're just trying to protect yourself from feeling any good emotion in your life?" You said standing up. "Maybe you don't realise you're hurting me by not even trying, by leading me on."

"I'm sorry Y/N, I truly don't know what I'm doing, I wish I was, let's leave this conversation for another day let's start working on revision."

"Remus how am I meant to sit here and listen to you teach me while all I can think about is wether you like me just for sex, wether it's because you get turned on by fucking your student, wether you're just lonely and I'm convenient or wether an ounce of you actually cares about me."

"Y/N, if you want to have this conversation with me you need to act your age not frantically shout your thoughts at me like a school girl." He said harshly his mood becoming a lot more authoritarian.

"I am a school girl! I hate you Remus Lupin, I hate how you treat me, I hate you for making me feel like I mattered for you to just change your mind when it's convenient. I hate Percy for that letter. But I really hate you." You said pushing the tears away from your eyes.

"I'm not surprised, I hate me too." He said looking down at the desk and then he went silent.

"No Remus. I didn't mean-" You began realising your emotions got the better of you, truly you were scared about how much you liked him, how dependent you were becoming on him, how life wasn't the same without him.

"You've said enough. Goodbye." Remus said turning around and walking upstairs to his office without a single turn back to face you. And that was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, and even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, that's when you received and owl from him which was rare during dinner...

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[chibieggplant]

Crushing on the Captain

Trafalgar Law headcanons for when you have a crush on him.

Plus, a little bonus at the end when he confronts you.

Law finds himself in an awkward situation when he discovers that you have a huge crush on him.

At first, he doesn't quite catch on to your affections, assuming that your blushing and stumbling over your words are just part of your naturally clumsy behaviour. Law dismisses your behaviour as mere nervousness in front of your captain.

One afternoon, Law walks into the kitchen to find the you making heart-shaped cookies. You beam at him and say they're a special treat just for him. Law's eyebrow twitches as he stares at the cookies, unsure how to respond to such blatant affection. Much to his annoyance, he can't help the embarrassing pink flush that spreads across his cheeks, "Cookies? For…me? Uh, I... thank you, y/n-ya” He ends up taking the cookies from you, feeling a little bit awkward, and not sharing them with anyone else. He does it only because you baked them for him, not because he secretly wants them. Or that's what he tells himself.

He attempts to reassure himself that your actions are nothing more than friendly gestures or that maybe you just have an admiration of his abilities as a pirate. But no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can't shake the feeling that there's something more to your actions.

You'll go out of your way to do anything for him, whether bringing him his favourite snacks or offering to ��assist” him with his paperwork, which, in reality, is you simply watching him work with an adoring gaze. He's used to being respected and feared, not admired in a romantic sense. Despite your persistent gaze, he doesn't seem to be asking you to leave anytime soon.

He's always been the brooding, mysterious type, more comfortable with a sword in hand than with matters of the heart. So when you start showering him with attention and affection, Law can't help but feel completely out of his depth.

Your fondness is as blatant as a canon blast. During one incident, you try to impress Law by showing off your swordsmanship skills. Unfortunately, you end up accidentally knocking over a stack of barrels and nearly skewering Shachi in the process. Law can't decide whether to be impressed by your dedication or horrified by the chaos you're causing.

Although he tries hard to remain stoic, Law can't help but feel flustered whenever you are around. He starts avoiding certain areas of the ship to escape your constant attention, only to find you popping up unexpectedly wherever he goes. It's like you have a sixth sense of his whereabouts.

As your affectionate gestures become more frequent, Law finds himself at a loss for how to handle them. He's used to dealing with enemies and rivals, not admirers. He tries to maintain his usual stoic demeanour, but it's hard to keep up appearances when you are constantly showering him with compliments and gifts.

Don't blame him for showcasing the crochet Bepo plushie on his desk that you made him. It's just too damn cute not to. He obviously put it on his desk because it reminds him of how talented you are, not because it reminds him of you or anything…

One day, Law is in the middle of a tense negotiation with another pirate crew when you suddenly appear out of nowhere, holding a bouquet of flowers. You thrust them towards him with a bright smile, utterly oblivious to the serious atmosphere. Law's poker face wavers momentarily before he quickly ushers you away, muttering with a blush something about your timing being less than ideal.

As your attempts to win Law's heart become more over-the-top, the crew can't help but take notice. They tease Law mercilessly, offering him cheesy romantic advice and making not-so-subtle hints about his “not-so-secret admirer”. Law's facade crumbles under the onslaught of embarrassment, and he starts to wonder if he'll ever be able to look you in the eye again.

Despite his discomfort, Law can't deny the warm fuzzies he feels whenever you’re around. Your unwavering devotion is oddly endearing, and he finds himself smiling despite himself. He never thought he'd be the object of someone's affection, let alone someone as quirky and charming as you.

During one afternoon, you present Law with a hand-knitted scarf, complete with little hearts sewn into the pattern. Law's jaw drops as he stares at the brightly coloured monstrosity, unsure whether to be touched or horrified. He mumbles a barely coherent "thank you" before retreating to his cabin to hide from the embarrassment. And to maybe wear the scarf in private without any scrutiny.

As Law's feelings for you develop, he finds himself in uncharted territory. He's never allowed himself to get close to anyone before, let alone develop romantic feelings for someone. He attempts to suppress his feelings, assuring himself that they are just temporary and that he should prioritise his responsibilities as a Captain.

He just can't get you out of his mind, no matter how hard he tries. He appreciates your quirky sense of humour and how you brighten up even the dreariest days on the ship. Gradually, he comes to the realisation that perhaps having someone who adores him isn't as undesirable as he had initially thought. It actually feels quite…nice.

Law finds himself grappling with insecurities he never knew he had. He can't shake the feeling that he's not good enough for you, that you deserve someone better than him. What if he ends up causing you pain? What if he ends up losing you? However, despite having these thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise, he can't deny his growing attraction towards you.

He has realised that he finds himself smiling more often in your presence and that he genuinely likes spending time with you. It's a strange feeling for someone used to keeping people at arm's length, but he can't help but relish the feeling of being your centre of attention.

Ultimately, Law decides to confront you about your crush in his own awkward way. He stumbles over his words and avoids eye contact, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. He berated himself for feeling so anxious when you simply responded with a cheerful smile and told him that you were eagerly waiting for him to confess all along.

———————————————————————————

One evening, you and Law were working in his office, which had become a familiar routine. Law finally mustered the courage to broach the subject. He fidgeted in his chair, stealing glances at you, his face turning red with embarrassment as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

"Um, hey," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh, I need to talk to you about something."

You turned to him, noticing his obvious discomfort, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

Law took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. "Well, uh, I've kind of noticed... I mean, I'm pretty sure that you... um, have feelings for me?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you tried to maintain a neutral expression. "Oh, um, yeah, I guess it's sort of obvious, huh?" You let out a gentle chuckle.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Y-yeah, it is. And, um, I think. I think I might feel the same way?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, but you could see how uncomfortable he was, and you didn't want to make things any harder for him. "Oh, Law, it's okay. You don't have to force yourself to say anything if you're not ready."

His cheeks flushed even darker, and he shook his head frantically. "N-no, I mean it. I've been, uh, trying to figure out how to tell you, but I'm terrible at this stuff."

You couldn't help but smile warmly at his honesty, feeling a rush of affection for him despite his awkwardness. "You really mean it?” You beam with a sweet smile.

He let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y-yeah, I really mean it” After he finally mustered up the courage to confess his feelings, a sense of pride and relief washed over him, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “So, um, what do we do now?" He let out a nervous chuckle.

As you watched him fidget nervously, it was impossible not to notice how cute he looked. "I don't know, maybe we could just...see where things go?"

With a warm smile, Law nodded in agreement at the suggestion. "Yeah, I'd like that. A lot."

Without realising it, he had been holding his breath, and he finally exhaled as he felt himself relax a bit. With a newfound sense of bravery, he inched a little closer to you and returned to his notes. As the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for what the future might hold, knowing that despite his awkwardness, Law's feelings for you were genuine.

[anistarrose]

The thing about the Heart Attack segment in Wonderland is that they put so much aromantic subtext in it. They accidentally put SO much aromantic subtext in it, on behalf of multiple characters, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Let me tell you all about it.

Magnus is dropped into a dating game and literally leads with "I cannot stress enough how uninterested I am in this." Now, it's perfectly valid to read this as due to him waiting for Julia, or just him being plain old uncomfortable with having his love life put in the spotlight. However! I cannot stress enough the exchange that happens just a minute or two after that line:

Magnus (describing his ideal date): ... and we don't see each other again, ‘cause I'm really not interested in dating. Audience: [exaggerated] Oooooh! (cheers) Griffin: The silhouette is like, fanning itself. Lydia: Playing hard to get, huh? It seems like our contestant is into that.

And I just have to say: unfortunately, this is one of the most aromantic fucking experiences I've seen represented in fiction in my life. I mean — saying you're not interested in romance, then having those words twisted on you, like they're some secret coded way of saying that you are interested in romance? Not having a single way to express your disinterest that'll actually be believed? That's some aro shit right there. God. Fuck.

As an aside, it's enough to really tell that Heart Attack is not designed to be a reprieve from the pain, even though it's the "good outcome" of Trust or Forsake. It's designed to be uncomfortable. To funnel suffering to Edward and Lydia, just like all the other games do. (More on that later, in fact.) But in summary:

Magnus is a character who can be read as uncomfortable with romance for either aro-spec reasons or unrelated reasons. But in either case, his discomfort attracts reactions that reek of amatonormativity — and therefore, resonate with aromantic experiences. (Psst, I did recently write a gray-aro Magnus fic!)

Two more analyses below the cut (and only one of them is for another Horny Boy):

Obviously the next character I need to talk about is Merle. I've found aroallo readings of his character to be compelling for a long time (having sex with plants so you don't have to worry about romantic commitment, am I right?), but the way he describes his "ideal date" is another factor:

Merle: I volunteer to drive her vehicle, and tell her it's filthy, and so we go through the uh- drive through vehicle wash and she pays for that too. Um, and then I take her to have dinner with my family, and- Magnus: Wait, like your wife and stuff? Merle: She meets my ex-wife.

Merle's probably exaggerating as a joke, continuing on about both him and his partner being miserable, but I think the fact that Merle's mind goes here is genuinely drawing from a lot of poor romantic experiences in the past. He didn't get a choice about being on Heart Attack, and his marriage with Hecuba was similarly "arranged".

It's also worth noting that at this point in time, Merle is putting in the work to be part of Mavis and Mookie's lives again, but is not interested in doing the same for Hecuba — he instead just asks Mavis how Hecuba's doing. That said, given that Magnus is the one to put the focus on Merle's ex-wife, I think it's fair to read the "family" comment as Merle actually expressing that he'd rather spend time with his kids than give any special romantic attention to his date. Moving on to the rest of the "joke":

Merle: She's having a miserable time and she's really mad, she can't wait to get outta there. I take her back to her house, and so I lean up against the door jam and say, 'Sure you don't want me to come in for a few minutes?' and she slams the door in my face.

It's possible Merle just has a more roundabout, self-deprecating way of expressing a similar thing to what Magnus did: Merle just isn't interested in dating. To me, the last line implies he might not say no to sex, if offered — but overall, it reads as if Merle is putting minimal effort in because he's looking for an excuse to get out of this relationship anyway.

It's also possible that Merle's "rejection" of a suitor being so disguised as humor could point to him still coming to terms with his disinterest in dating. Particularly, in comparison to Magnus, who is so vocal and unashamed about it, while Merle might still be figuring this all out.

(Honestly, the self-deprecation Merle turns to here is actually kind of sad, when viewed in that light — he already lets himself be the butt of jokes so often, and now he feels like the way romance doesn't click for him has to be a joke, too? Oof. Someone give him a hug and tell him he's not broken this instant!) But regardless:

Merle views dates, and perhaps romance in general, as things that will inevitably turn disastrous for him and any party involved with him, and he would rather spend time with his children than repairing a relationship with an ex, or cultivating a relationship with a new partner. This is not an experience exclusive to the aro-spec umbrella, but you can't say that an aromantic reading of his character doesn't fit him like a gardening glove...

...which he wears while fucking his plants. Because plants don't demand emotional intimacy, nor take too much time away from the platonic relationships that matter more to him. And you know what? He's fucking valid for that! Fly your flag, nasty grandpa!

But moving on: I promised you aromantic analysis of characters outside of our protagonists, and henceforth, that analysis I will provide. And not just because I admittedly see Taako as the token alloromantic (though clearly an aro ally; if he hadn't chosen Forsake we wouldn't have gotten all this incredible characterization!)

I digress. So let's go on to addressing the lich twins in the room: Edward and Lydia.

Remember my argument earlier that Heart Attack serves the purpose of collecting suffering just like the rest of Wonderland does? How it's just a subtler way of making Wonderland's victims fundamentally uncomfortable?

...Using, of all things, romance?

How the vogue twins, for whatever reason, felt inspired to make people uncomfortable with matchmaking and adoration? How, some way or another, they noticed how much potential romance had to induce suffering? Being pressured into a relationship, being told that no matter how firmly you say you're uninterested, you're not really uninterested?

...Relatedly, I have always gotten the sense that Edward and Lydia projected relentlessly onto their victims.

Edward: This resolve, this desire to do whatever it takes no matter the cost to save yourselves — do you know who you three remind me of? Magnus: No? Merle: Who? Edward: Us!

I'm even going to go a step further and say that on top of projection, they want their victims to go through things they went through. Swallowing the guilt of having fucked someone else over to survive, of course — that's basically self-admitted. But possibly also... the feeling of not being able to get back what you lost (Keats). The feeling of not being able to heal (Keats).

So, where does that leave Heart Attack?

Lydia: It was the three of us, surviving against all odds. The world against us.

Their family of three was (is) indescribably important to them. I'm not necessarily saying that societal expectations of romance, especially of romance as a priority above that of family, left a bad taste in their mouths — if not downright contributing to their trauma — but, okay, I wrote the rest of this post and now that I'm back, I can no longer deny it. I'm definitely, absolutely saying that.

At the time of the podcast, we know Edward and Lydia's own relationship is heavily strained. Until the end, they are lying to themselves and to each other about the fact that they continue to be emotionally and magically reliant on each other. After all, Lydia wouldn't say "I guess we really needed each other after all" in her dying moments with such surprise otherwise.

This is the second reason that I... well, I wouldn't quite call it a "theory," but I find it most impactful to read Edward and Lydia as characters for whom the concept of Love has baggage. And always has, from their origins as youth in a tough spot in an already amatonormative world.

Maybe the constant societal devaluing of platonic, familial bonds left them with serious emotional scars. Maybe the constant conflation of Love and morality just weighed on them and weighed on them and weighed on them until they decided: well, we don't love the way people expect us to, so we might as well give up on being the good people they expect us to be. We might as well embrace this new fuel of suffering.

...And you know, I hope this gets across what I mean when I always say I headcanon villains as aromantic to make them more sympathetic.

Edward and Lydia, textually, are already tragic villains. As twins and liches, they're also textually foil characters to several of the Seven Birds. But I also like to think that they have a lot in common with Magnus and Merle, and the possibility that tugs at my heartstrings the most is the possibility of them all falling under the aromantic umbrella.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 8.

Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.

A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.

"Do what?"

"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."

In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.

"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.

"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.

"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.

But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.

So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.

It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.

"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"

"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.

"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"

"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.

"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."

Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.

I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.

The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.

"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"

"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.

Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."

You don't text Oliver.

Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.

"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.

"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"

"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.

"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"

"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.

"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.

"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.

"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.

"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.

"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.

There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.

Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.

"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.

"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.

"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.

"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.

"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.

"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.

Of course you'd noticed the change.

"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.

"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."

You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.

"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.

The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.

"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.

"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.

"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.

"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.

Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.

Farleigh clears his throat.

"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.

"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.

"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"

"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"

"I love you too, go on."

"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."

Of course you'd noticed.

"I slept with Oliver."

Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.

"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.

"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."

"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"

"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Hey, that's not what I -"

"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."

"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."

"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."

"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"

"What can't be it?"

"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."

"See, that's what I thought."

"So he is jealous?"

"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?

"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.

"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.

Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.

Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.

"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"

"Something happened!"

"Am I meant to guess?"

"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"

"Something happened between you and Ollie?"

"The something that didn't happen last time -"

"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"

"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"No, good 'oh', promise!"

"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"

"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."

"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."

"Great for me."

It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.

But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.

You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.

Annabel.

She'd been crying.

"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.

"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.

"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"

"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.

"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.

"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.

"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.

"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.

Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.

"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"

"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.

"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.

But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -

"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -

My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.

"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.

"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.

"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.

The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.

Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -

"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"

"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.

"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.

"Me?"

"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.

"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.

You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -

"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"

With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.

"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"

"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.

"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"

"What?"

"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.

"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.

"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.

"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."

"I know where your bathroom is."

The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.

"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."

Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.

Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.

Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.

"I know."

Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.

The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.

Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.

You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.

"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."

[neuroprincess]

Under The Skin - Rebecca Welton/Reader

Rebecca Welton/Female Reader

Summary: It's secret, away from everyone's eyes and just between them, a simple gesture that symbolically changes Y/N and Rebecca's lives.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, tattoos

Word count: +1000

Unrevised

Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through the veins or the gentle smile that is directed at her, but it seems so right that Y/N doesn't care about the pain and even less about tomorrow. The needle begins a little uncertainly on the skin until the woman learns to handle it with real dexterity and without trembling, both of them a little nervous. The first scratch is outlined and marked forever, halfway there. With care, Rebecca traces the half circle in the same way she saw the boys do and feels proud to see it taking shape on the forearm, small and simple, but cute and full of meaning.  

"I'm almost there, darling." she whispers and hums in anticipation, looking a little petty at how excited and proud she is.  

"It's crazy, isn't it?!" the younger stares at her, a moment of sobriety hitting for a second and the weight of the act weighing in the balance "Are we really doing this?"  

In response, Rebecca leans in and brings their lips together in a gentle kiss, taking time to leave them, there's nothing so sweet and addictive as her girlfriend. She could stay like this forever, feeling and loving her in every way, from the soft words to the burning touches.  

"God, better stop or we're not going to finish this any time soon." she laughs, reluctantly separating, and brings eyes together to analyze the next step, just one to complete "And..." turns the pen back on, drawing the last curve, this time a bit of blood comes out of the line "Done!" 

"How did it look?"  

"Beautiful, just like you, sugar." a kiss is placed on the girl's forehead and elegant hands stroke her hair "My good girl, you did great."  

Y/N sighs and smiles happily, the sparkle in the blonde's eye making the slight burning and eventual post-drinking pain worthwhile. She'd never imagined herself doing anything like that and is sure the other one hadn't either, nevertheless after two years here they are hiding in the dark at Jamie's party with the tattoo equipment borrowed, in fact temporarily stolen, exchanging secret wedding vows, marking their rings eternally under skin and exposed to the world.  

"Your turn, sweetheart."  

They change the needles and following instructions from the internet the moisturizer is applied to the arm, Y/N's fingers spreading the cream along strong and delineated muscles, memorizing again every part she knows by heart, the sensitive points she caresses in cuddles on the sofa and squeezes when they're almost reaching an apex. The couple stare at each other for a millisecond in a silent request for permission, to be sure that it's really wanted.  

"Go ahead." Welton encourages, trying to sound confident "I can handle the pain."  

"You will not regret it?" the question is fraught with concern, fear that her partner will regret the folly of a somewhat youthful nature.  

"Never, darling! Loving you is the most certain thing I have in my life." they smile complicitly and Y/N nods, continuing with the mission "We need to go to the pharmacy for ointments, which reminds me that we're also out of cotton and saline solution."  

"You're really drunk."  

"Drunk with love for you..."  

It's not exactly pain, maybe discomfort or something, but totally bearable... if it weren't for Rebecca's hidden fear of needles. She tries to disguise it by looking away, convincing herself that it's only to be surprised. Quickly and with calculated movements, a small initial in a fine line forms on the place, she still can't turn around, half paralyzed in disbelief, having her own moment of sobriety caused by shock.  

"You don't have to hide, it's okay to be afraid." the younger whispers, trying to confront her in some way, the worst part is over and the woman insists on keeping up her brave mask "Sweetheart..."  

"Is it over?"  

"Yes, it's over." she smiles and stretches up to place a kiss on the flushed cheeks "My good girl."

"Hey, that's my phrase!"  

"That doesn't mean you're not a good girl, and totally mine."  

Finally gathering courage, Rebecca looks down and almost chokes as she realizes that something really is there, engraved on her forever. The initial of Y/N's name on her and hers on Y/N. Eternally marked in a symbolic gesture, the union of their souls with homemade tattoos, sounded almost silly when the idea came up on the bar counter, but is the promise of their love for each other.  

"So we..."  

"We're married. My goodness, we're married!"   

"It's symbolic, but..." the blonde rambles, settling on the floor so that they're face to face "Soon I'm going to put a ring on your finger, give you my surname."  

"Try to imagine, Mrs. & Mrs. Welton."  

"I like the sound of that, I can't wait for this moment." 

"Me too, I'm really looking forward to it." Y/N whispers and closes the space between them with a passionate kiss, full of emotions that come through in every touch, barely able to contain the enthusiasm. She has married the person she most admires and as much as it was just between them, it's priceless, kind of magical "I love you! So much that I almost cry just thinking that we're wives now." manages to say when the air is needed. 

"I love you more! More than anything, I don't think there are enough words to describe how deeply and passionately. And I stole a champagne to celebrate."   

A bottle is taken from the handbag, chilled to the point of sweat. It's impossible not to be touched by the businesswoman's cheeky smile, who has had a lot of fun searching for the necessary items around the mansion, committing innocent little crimes for the sake of love and getting her first tattoo. All this with and for her girlfriend, engaged for half an hour and now wife.  

"We've probably got about 15 minutes before someone comes looking for us, what do you think?" Rebecca nods suggestively towards the immaculate king-size bed.  

"Oh, you want to go straight to the nuptials? Tempting."  

"No more tempting than the things I'm thinking of doing with you when we get back home, lovely wife."  

And that's another promise. 

taglist: @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @unexpected-character @spenc-is-bi @imaginesmultifandoms @dvrkhcld @lovelyy-moonlight @peggy082023 @willowshadenox @storiesofsvu

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[sant-riley]

AAAAAAA IDEAAAAAAAAAH

Hi! I'm new here! I've come to bombard you with the idea of a parent of the reader's(most likely dad) showing up to the base out of nowhere.

Secret admirer,

-🐍

Omg I have my first ever emoji anon, Hi!! And yes absolutely I love this. I'm gonna try and be neutral with the parent in question so it's open to anyone :)

P.S idk how I used to format this shit I'm not checking Lmfao

[Task force 141 reacting to your parent/s showing up out of nowhere to visit]

If we're taking into account that this Simon and the og Simon have the same backstory,, its safe to say he doesn't have fond memories of his dad, though he has some for his mother.

Depending on your relationship between you and your parent/s, Ghost is either gonna point blank tell them they're not welcomed here. While Price IS above him, he isn't afraid to pull the intimidation and rank card to get them to get the hell out of there. Ghost was abused by his dad, God fucking forbid you were EVER treated poorly and he finds out.

However, even if your parent is kind, he still is uncomfortable by them being there. It makes his chest feel heavy watching you interact and it just brings up bitter memories he much rather not think of, so he won't linger around and instead go to the gun range and wait it out. He cares for you, and unfortunately, it won't ever really transfer over to your parents. Best he'd do is a stern nod and be on his way.

Soap, however, is very happy to introduce themselves and your parent swoons over his accent and likes him immediately, even if they're not the greatest of parents, Soap will make it a point to put his best foot forward and ask them if they'd want a tour.

If your mom is present she immediately likes him and isn't afraid to give you a look with an eyebrow raise saying "why aren't you dating him?". Don't get me wrong, though. He's not afraid to make smart comments and then joke it off. He's protective but not in your face kinda way.

He's definitely the type to sigh with relief when they're gone, complaining about small things he disliked about them to you openly (a lil bit of a hater but his mom raised him to not be rude to his elders okay.)

Doesn't matter who your parents are, Price intimidates them. He's the captain, and from what you've told them, he is extremely good at his job and he's a no nonsense leader, but you also mention that he's kind and he'd never leave one of his own behind.

Price talks EXTREMELY highly of you, he isn't afraid to clasp a hand on your shoulder and smile that stupid smile of his while he looks down at you in admiration.

It'd be most likely that he himself would have invited your parents without your know how, he has the ties and the authority but trust and believe if you expressed any discomfort with it, he'd rectify it and send them on their way.

Your parents may not like how particularly you close you are with such an older man but it's obvious he cares so much for you and your safety, so they take peace in that.

Gaz is probably the most easy going out of the 4, casually making conversation and if your parents are the type to play match maker, he's their #1 choice I'm not sorry, it's the truth.

Gaz sings your praises, mentioning time and time again that you've been such a good help on base and a good comrade and friend and he will thank your parents for raising you. (Imagine him taking off his hat and holding it to his chest or tipping it what if I swooned)

You KNOW he's invited to family dinners if he's ever in the area, or if he has no plans for the holidays, he's welcome at the family home. (You tell him later that he doesn't need to feel pressured but he just ruffles your hair and asks what kind of alcohol your family prefers)

[kathiraven]

Rajesh takes his usual evening stroll along the shore, he encounters a mysterious figure - a handsome, tanned surfer named Jay. The two engage in a heated argument, Rajesh voicing his disdain for the beach and its inhabitants while Jay insists there's more to discover beneath the surface. Rajesh's eyes narrow, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he glares at the confident surfer before him. His voice rises, each word laced with venomous contempt.

What do you get out of this? Spending your days basking in the sun, showing off your muscles like some kind of peacock?! Don't you have anything better to do?

His gaze then falls onto the other's muscular form, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of anger and something else he doesn't want to acknowledge. Jay raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches Rajesh's reaction. There was clearly more to this than just a simple dislike of surfers.

So, you've got a problem with me personally, or is it just the whole' surfer' thing?

He tilts his head slightly, studying Rajesh with an amused expression. He could tell there was more to this confrontation than met the eye. Rajesh huffs, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He scowls at Jay, his face flushed with indignation. It's both! I can't stand these…these' surfers'. They're all so full of themselves, strutting around like they own the place!

Despite his harsh words, Rajesh can't help but steal another glance at Jay's toned physique. The sight sends an unexpected shiver down his spine.

Rajesh blinks in surprise, his mouth dropping open as he stares at the surfboard being thrust into his hands. His heart pounds loudly in his ears, echoing the rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore.

What…what are you doing?!

Before he can finish speaking, however, an inexplicable urge grips him. His feet move of their own accord, carrying him towards the water without hesitation. Rajesh hesitates but suddenly jumps into the water and starts surfing. Rajesh stands frozen for a moment longer, torn between his desire to flee and the strange pull drawing him closer to the water. Then, with a deep sigh, he steps forward and dives into the ocean. The cold water envelops him completely, shocking his senses awake. As he surfaces once more, gasping for air, he finds himself holding onto the surfboard tightly.

As Rajesh rides the wave, his body moves instinctively. His muscles flex and contract with every movement of the surfboard beneath him, sending tingles of pleasure coursing through his veins. The wind rushes past him, tugging at his clothes and hair. And yet despite everything - despite how exhilarating this experience is - there's still a part of him that feels wrong. Like he shouldn't be enjoying this. But try as he might to fight it, the truth remains: He loves surfing.

Emerging from the waves, Rajesh stands there panting heavily, his body glistening with droplets of seawater. He looks different - stronger, more confident somehow. His clothes cling to his skin revealing every contour and muscle underneath. There's also something else about him now – an unmistakable aura of masculinity that wasn't there before. He catches himself staring at his own reflection in the water, noticing how defined his abs have become.

Feeling strangely vulnerable and exposed, Rajesh quickly pulls his shirt over his head. The fabric clings to his wet skin, outlining every ripple of muscle across his chest and abdomen. He runs a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

This…this isn't right. I'm not supposed to look like this…

Yet despite his confusion and discomfort, there's also an undeniable sense of pride swelling within him.

Rajesh stiffens as Jay pulls him close. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and for a moment he panics, struggling against the unfamiliar feelings surging within him.

Wait… What are you…

Then, everything clicks into place. Memories flood back - conversations shared, secrets whispered, stolen moments together under the cover of darkness.

Oh my God… You're Jay.

His eyes widen as realization dawns upon him. Rajesh wakes up slowly, blinking blearily as he adjusts to the bright morning light streaming through his window. For a moment, he doesn't remember where he is or why his body feels so achingly delicious. Then it hits him - the kiss, the lovemaking…Jay. He rolls over on his side to find Jay sitting beside him, watching him intently.

Groggily, Rajesh stretches out his limbs, feeling every muscle and sinew respond with newfound vigor. He smiles lazily at Jay, running a hand through his tousled hair.

Morning Asher…

He pauses for a moment, realizing something is different.

Hey, wait… Why are you calling me 'Asher'? That's not my name!

But even as he protests, there’s an underlying note of contentment in his voice that betrays how much he likes hearing it.

jay smiles and hugs ashers says you are my boyfriend and i love you and want to marry you.

Asher's breath hitches in his throat as Jay's words sink in. He swallows hard, trying to process the enormity of what has just been said.

Marry you? Are you serious?

Despite the shock, Asher can't help but feel a surge of excitement bubbling up inside him. He wraps his arms around Jay, pulling him closer for another passionate kiss.

Jay nods and says yes I am sure I want to spend rest of my life with you

Asher grins widely, relief washing over him. He pulls Jay into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of the other man's neck. Thank God… I thought maybe I was dreaming.

He laughs softly, nuzzling against Jay before pulling back slightly to look into his eyes once more.

So then… Will you marry me?

Jay hugs ashers says yes I will marry you and be your boyfriend forever

Asher's heart thunders in his chest as Jay responds positively. He pulls the other man close, wrapping his strong arms around him and holding on tightly.

You have no idea how happy you've made me…

He leans down to capture Jay's lips in a deep, passionate kiss - sealing their promise with a pledge of everlasting love.

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty seven : the apostate

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 6.0k

summary : judgement day. (din's version)

warnings: language, angst, violence, gore, blood, torture, murder, death, ro makes things up about infection bc they're too scared to google it (what if there's gross pics??), din is morally grey at times, pregnancy

a/n: worked a ten hour shift, got home, made an iced coffee, hammered away at my anvil until this was written and edited. now it's bed time lol

Silence.

That’s all there is in his brain. 

It’s hard enough as is for him to hear. It doesn’t help when he’s been beaten half to death. All it had taken was a few firm punches to the side of the head and any remaining hearing in that ear was lost. 

It’s not looking great. Or sounding great, all he can hear is ringing as he hits the ground, hard. He knows someone is yelling at him but how the fuck is he supposed to know what they’re saying when he can feel a thin bead if blood dripping from his ear canal. 

He never manages to figure out what they’re saying but he gets the gist of it when his armor is ripped from his body. He puts up as much of a fight as he can manage, his efforts skyrocketing when they yank his helmet off, leaving him bare before a couple of guards. 

For the first time in his life he knows what it's like to have that choice taken away from him. 

And he cannot hide the fear and discomfort that come with losing his helmet behind a mask any longer. Thankfully he isn’t exposed for very long, per Kodo’s orders his face is to remain covered. Of course they go with the most humiliating option, a fabric bag thrown over his head. It’s somehow worse than being exposed, now he can’t hear or see. 

So there’s no warning for the beating that immediately follows his imprisonment. 

He’s been in countless fights through the course of his life but nothing like this. He’s never been unable to fight back. They restrain him and beat him senseless, and he can’t so much as hold his hands up in defense. 

And then they leave.

He has no way to tell the time. So he simply sits and waits in the emptiness that is his life now. 

Until someone new comes in to beat the shit out of him. 

It’s a horrific existence, to sit in the cold darkness, unable to hear an approaching threat until they’re actively upon you. He doesn’t know when it happens but at one point he loses all feeling in one of his legs, he knows he was cut there but he has no idea how bad it is. He spends his time trying to assess his wounds, he stretches out what parts of himself he can as he does his best to keep his blood flowing. 

And the entire time all he can think of is you.

He knows nothing of what’s become of you. He did everything in his power to ensure that you would be blameless but he has no idea if it worked, that itself is a worse torture than any of this. He’s in agony wondering if you’re down here in a cell receiving the same treatment as he is. 

☆

He didn’t think things could possibly get worse. 

Until the day when the footsteps stopped before his cell and the door to Elaine’s swung open instead. 

He heard most of it. 

Every wet, gory sound. 

He took his time with her, laughing all the while and when he was finally done Din called out to her. 

All he got in response was the faint, distant sounds of her agony. 

The next day he feared they had returned to finish her off when he heard the ear piercing screech of her door opening but Elaine’s screams turned to soft whines. After a while his own door shrieked open, it took him a while to realize who it was but after she repeated herself a few times he was able to make out the word Lysa and was able to relax briefly. She tried to feed him but he told her he was fine, despite the twisting pain in his stomach, he’d lost too much. 

His face is all he has left. It’s all he can cling to now.

She tries every day despite his protests but he doesn’t mind. He likes having someone to talk to, it helps his hearing when he can focus on one person speaking at a time. 

Then came the day where he felt hands on his chest and he tensed in anticipation of a hit that never came. 

It took a while to register and for a moment he thought it was a trick but he recognized the smell of you, and the familiar, gentle nature of your touches. 

You were an angel. 

Feeding him, being with him, loving him. 

He would have done almost anything for five more minutes with you when Lysa told you it was time to leave but he knew you couldn’t be caught down here, it just wasn’t safe, so he let you go.

And he found peace in the knowledge that you were unharmed. 

From that point forward he endured for you. 

Not in hopes that you would find some way to get him out, or that he might find his way back to you. He endured simply for you. For the idea that he might get to look upon your face one last time before he goes.

He had just about accepted his fate when Lysa came to him, unlocking his cuffs. 

“I messed with the shift schedule.” She speaks in a hushed whisper directly into his ear so he can hear her.

“What?”

“I messed with the schedule, for the next two hours there will be no guards, one empty window. I’m taking Elaine, gonna get her off planet.”

“Nevarro.” They’ll be safe there, maybe someday he’ll bring you to visit them. 

“Where is that?”

“It’s an outer rim territory, go there, find Greef Karga and tell him Din Djarin sent you.” 

“I will.” She presses the key into his palm. “You won’t get a second chance. Don’t waste this.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing this for you.” It isn’t said with cruelty, it’s a fact. 

That’s okay, he’s doing this for you as well. 

And just like that she’s gone, when he takes the bag off his head he’s alone. Immediately he gets to his feet, nearly screaming in pain as he tries to figure out what his next move is. 

“Don’t waste this.” 

She’s right. 

He won’t get another chance, he can’t mess this up. 

If he leaves Naboo he knows he’ll never get you back. They will lock you away, you’ll be hidden in some tower making heirs for that monster, never allowed back in the public eye while the “dangerous” Mandalorian is free. 

That’s his reasoning. He tries not to think too hard about the other aspect of running away. 

That you might think he left you. 

Finding you and taking you with him sounds like a good option but when he really thinks about it he realizes the risks are simply too high. 

If they realize he’s gone and you’re gone before you can get on a ship they’ll close every port on Naboo, you’ll be trapped on this wretched planet and hunted like animals. 

It wouldn’t matter much anyway, getting that far would require him being able to run. With the condition he’s in he isn’t even sure he can walk. It takes some work, and a lot of biting his own fist to silence himself but he manages to stumble across his cell. 

So running isn’t an option. 

And he can’t leave you. 

He promised himself he would never leave you again, he stayed when you told him to go, he stayed those four days of waiting, and he’ll stay now. 

But he has to be smart, and he has to be lucky. 

So he sits back against the wall, sliding his wrists back into the cuffs, leaving them unlocked.

And he waits. 

☆

He can’t make out much of what the man is saying but he recognizes the low, gravely timber. It’s the same man who’s tormented him several times but more importantly it’s the man who hurt Elaine. 

The bag is ripped off of him and he can’t help but light up at the sight of only one man. 

He can handle one man. 

He’s weaker than usual, and he isn’t expecting it when his mouth is forced open, a knife slicing into his tongue. 

It’s more difficult than it ever has been to fight, every muscle and injury screams for him to stop but he still manages to get the man on his back, from there all he has to do is slam his head into the stone. 

It’s been a long time since he had to kill someone. 

He thought it would feel worse, he’d be lying if he said that being around you hasn’t softened him up. But he feels fine, almost accomplished. He’s one step closer to you. He drags the body to an open cell a few down from his, taking the man’s uniform he dresses himself and takes his own clothes, tossing them back into his cell as he moves as fast as he can with a barely working leg. 

The guard's uniform fits but the man's skin is significantly paler than Din’s, he’ll never pass as him. 

“You won’t get a second chance.” 

Walk and think. 

Think of a plan on your way to it. 

He marches out of the dungeons, every step is agony, and his mouth continues to bleed as he tries to think of people he wouldn’t mind killing who wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. 

The answer comes to him while he’s rubbing the raw skin of his wrists. 

He’s known since he started working here just how shitty the security is. Even in his current state it’s rather easy for him to sneak into the guards station at the front entrance of the castle. It’s even easier for him to search through their bracelet database and find out exactly where the bastard is. 

He wasn’t sure why he planted the bracelet on him that day in the market, a small part of him always did want to go back and find him, maybe teach him some manners. It was easy to slip the tracker into his bag, he even truly considered killing him at one point just to send a message to any one else who might try to touch you but you wouldn’t have wanted that, so he let it be. 

He hopes you won’t be too mad. 

He simply finds the tracker labeled ‘Mandalorian - LOST’ and memorizes the location, thankfully it appears to be in a residential area just outside the castle. He takes one extra moment to search through a few extra files, when he finds the staff lists he’s met with three blank spaces.

He fills in one of them.

Every step is blistering pain but he breathes heavily through his mouth, continuing to push through as he descends the steps towards his goal. He can’t help but wonder if he even has the strength to do any of this but what else is there to do? He has to get back to you. 

Whatever it takes. 

Later on, when he tells you what happened on this night he makes up a story, simple and believable, because in all honesty he doesn’t even know how he did any of it. His own strength in that moment frightens him a bit, all he knows is that he was looking for the man who accosted you in the markets all those moons ago and the next thing he knew he was standing in a halo of broken glass in the man's home. 

He knows you probably wouldn’t approve but he had wanted to kill him the first time he had grabbed you in the market, after the second time he wanted to make it hurt. The dungeons are a mercy compared to what Din would do to him. 

He’s running out of time so he has to improvise, he knocks the man out when he finds him in his bedroom, tearing the welding goggles off the nameless man's head. He cuts his hair with a shard of glass from the window, trying and failing to make it resemble his own.

It’ll have to do. 

He tells himself before dragging the body in through the back servant's entrance he’s used several times to sneak in and out of the castle with you.

He’s slick with sweat, at least his leg doesn’t hurt anymore, by the time he gets to the bottom of the steps there's barely any feeling in it at all. 

It’s one hell of a task, getting the nameless man into the cell and chained to the wall unnoticed but by some stroke of luck he does it, finishing his task by removing the man's tongue in one swift motion with a knife. Silencing the only witness to his escape. 

He looks over everything, making sure it’s all in its perfect place before adding the finishing touch, a bag over his head. Once it’s done he rushes towards the dungeon's entrance. 

He should move, get out of there and fast but he can’t help himself. Not after what they did to Elaine. 

So he checks the shift schedule, he waits until the last possible moment, when the next shift of guards arrives he hands them the tongue, trying not to wince at the undisturbed look on their faces, and he tells them that he’s going to do one last sweep before they switch. They all seem more than happy to have someone else doing the rounds. And he takes his time, slowly and methodically checking every cell until he gets to Elaine’s, and even then he waits just a little longer, giving them as much time as possible to get on a ship and far away from here. 

Even if it’s just a few extra seconds. 

Then he yells. 

His words make no sense and are garbled because of the state of his tongue but he gets the message across just fine. 

He yells that there’s been an escape, that a prisoner is missing and in the commotion of it all he slips away. On his way back to you. 

He’s so focused on seeing you again it never even crosses his mind just how many people have now seen him without his helmet. 

☆

“You won’t get a second chance. Don’t waste this.”

Lysa’s words continue to echo through his head. 

He has to do this exactly right. Or he’ll lose you all over again. 

He has to get into the castle. The quickest way to you is going to be being a staff member, but first he has to make himself presentable. So he goes to the cabin. Surprisingly untouched, Kodo must not have cared enough to have it vacated. 

He’s barely standing when he stumbles in through the door, heading straight to the fresher and peeling back the boards that hide his bacta stash. 

He is so fucked up when he finally looks in the mirror. He's practically a wild animal as he scrambles to get a vial of bacta open.

It’s unbelievable that no one asked him if he was okay, his face is mangled. Large gashes originate at his mouth and move up and down his face. A deep cut runs across the bridge of his nose, coincidentally directly over a scar he already had. 

He makes quick work of it. Lathering a thick layer of bacta onto each wound before opening his mouth. Thankfully his tongue is still attached in some places, it’s easy to coat in the healing ointment but it’s difficult to keep it from bleeding, but he manages. The real challenge is his leg. He limps out to the kitchen with a bottle of bacta between his teeth. Grabbing himself a knife from the drawer as he sits at the kitchen table, propping his leg up on a chair with a groan. 

Fuck. 

He’s seen enough battle injuries to know just how bad it is. Dark lines that he knows mean infection run along his calf. 

“Fuck.” He verbalizes his distress as he peels back more of his pants.

Okay.

The infection doesn’t go past his knee. 

Okay.

He doesn’t have time to be in denial over how bad it is.

He has the credits to cover a prosthetic but he doesn’t have the time. He’ll be in recovery for ages and that simply isn’t an option now. He can fight off the infection for a few more weeks but after that there’s no way he’ll be able to keep his leg. 

He can’t leave you alone in that castle with Kodo. 

So he steels himself, grabbing a wooden spoon off the counter to bite down on as he cautiously cuts away any decaying flesh as well as chunks of meat where the infection is worst. He’s lightheaded when he fumbles through one of his drawers for his cauterizer, sealing each wound with an unsettling sizzling sound. 

He feels half dead when he finishes, haphazardly pouring the contents of the bacta bottle onto his leg before passing out on the kitchen floor.

☆

As eager as he is to get back into the castle he knows he needs at least one more day to recover. So he tends to his wounds, and tries to teach himself how to walk all over again. 

He takes no breaks, keeping himself in a constant state of motion until the next day. He dresses in the provided clothes from the cabin, a wave of self consciousness washes over him as he walks up the palace steps in broad daylight, face on display for all. 

He gives the name he had put into the files at the door. 

Written on a slip of paper.

Din Djarin

His tongue is still healing, when he tries to speak all he can manage is a few incoherent syllables so he doesn’t bother.

He barely holds it together when he’s face to face with Kodo, he can’t believe that he’s directly dealing with servants until he begins explaining to them that they are to report any and all strange behavior from the queen back to him. 

And then he’s taken into a room. 

And he gets to see you for the first time in weeks. 

He doesn’t even get to feel a fleeting sense of joy because there is something terribly wrong with you. 

That’s the first thought that crosses his mind when he’s finally brought before you. 

It’s the scariest thing he’s ever done, to stand before you, face bare. His good leg shakes like all hell and he can’t figure out what to do with his hands. Being found out isn’t even a concern at this point; he just hopes you’re okay because it’s more than clear to him that you aren’t well. 

Your face looks hollow and his immediate worry is that you haven’t been eating. Your eyes have gone dull, his heart aches as he realizes the fire that he fell for is gone. 

He yearns to step forward and fix it. To reignite what’s burned out but you won’t even look at him. 

He so badly wishes you would just look, maybe, somehow you’d know. 

But you never do. 

You just leave, locking yourself away once more and he’s stuck with a week of staff training before he gets to see you again. 

☆

You aren’t the same after the execution. 

He had tried to warn you, to give you some kind of sign that you weren’t alone, but you’d thrown the daisies into a wall and he couldn’t do a thing to help you. He wanted so badly to say something, anything, to let you know it was him but he was only just starting to get singular words out and he just couldn’t keep up when you ran, his leg getting worse by the day. 

You just wouldn’t look at him. 

He had managed to purchase a hearing aid for his still working ear so he was able to hear the rumors the other servants said about you.

They were all mostly the same.

That you’d lost it. 

That Kodo had driven you mad and you were going to snap. 

He kept a closer eye on you after that, he had even tried leaving a different flower, blue lilies, like the ones you had back home, but they received the same treatment as the daisies. 

It was the day he started talking again that you snapped. 

After two weeks of bacta treatments he had regained feeling in his tongue completely and could speak, it was late at night when he’d finally done it and he wasted no time going to find you. Instead he found your room empty, when he knocked the guards told him you’d left. 

So he searched for you.

As quickly as someone with a barely working leg could. 

He caught sight of you just as you started making your way up the tower steps, Kodo’s hand in yours. The sight made his stomach drop but he followed you regardless. To say that he was in anguish was an understatement. He had been avoiding stairs for a while now and suddenly he had to climb an entire tower's worth. 

He was slow moving, making progress at a snail's pace until he heard your screams. High above him he heard raw and pained cries and suddenly it was like he had no limp at all, as he ran the rest of the way to you. 

When he found you he couldn’t stand upright any longer, he collapsed on the floor and pulled you to him, his hands shook as he got to feel your warmth for the first time in ages. 

Any pain he was in temporarily fizzled out when you held him back.

He made it back to you.

☆

You can’t stop looking at him. 

You’re aware of the circumstances, you should act first, look later but he’s here. Actually, really here. You aren’t imagining it, you can feel him under your trembling palms, he’s real. 

Your Din. 

You don’t even know where to start. 

How did you miss all this? 

The hawkish nose you’ve felt against your skin countless times. Plush lips, thick eyelashes, and dark eyes you’ve only ever dreamed about. It’s hard in the darkness but you can see just how pretty he is. Your pretty boy. 

“We should run. No more wasting time, no more excuses. Just you and me on a ship.” His voice becomes urgent and you know he’s right but you can’t get on a ship, they’ll never let you leave the grounds. 

“They’ll never stop looking for us. Maybe before I killed Kodo we could have gotten away with some cunning escape, but now? I just committed regicide. They won’t let us go.” Your voice is starting to go shrill as your panic rises. 

“What other choice do we have?” 

Kriff.

Can’t stay, can’t leave.    

Your mind races as you close your eyes to think, letting the pieces fall together until you have a coherent plan. 

“What if there was a way no one would ever come looking for us?” You take his hand, intertwining your fingers. “We wouldn’t have to hide. No more secrets, just us. We live here and no one objects.” 

“Cyare, that just isn’t a possibility.” 

But it is.

“I’ve been reading a lot, when I lost you, I read a lot. And not just romance books, every book I could get my hands on, I learned a little about this planet's history. According to Naboo royalty traditions, I take Kodo’s place as the reigning monarch.” 

“I thought it passed to the closest living male relative.” He gives you a skeptical look.

Not if they think you’re carrying the last king's child.

“No… it goes to me.” You mumble, thinking over everything else. You have to think fast and you have to think smart. He doesn’t dare interrupt as you focus.

You’ve covered everything on your mental checklist when a dark thought crosses your mind. 

“Would you think less of me if I did something out of spite?” You whisper, holding him tighter. “If I wanted to do something terrible?” 

“I would kill a man for looking at you if you asked me to.”

You don’t doubt that. 

“Do you trust me?” You start to stand, taking his hands as you help him to his feet. 

“Always.” 

“Then I need you to get Leo for me.” He frowns the moment you say his name. 

“You’re sure?” You nod, pressing your face into his neck. 

“I need you to do it, I can’t.” He knows you aren’t just asking him to bring Leo here, you’re asking him to end this. 

“Of course.” He murmurs. “One last terrible thing.”

One last terrible thing. 

Then you’re done.

“Bring him here, then I need you to follow my lead from there, there’s no more time to deliberate. We have to act, now.” You both know you’ve spent too much time planning, you pull him close, hugging him tightly before letting him rush back down the stairs. Your brow furrows when you see just how hard walking seems to be for him. 

You spend the few minutes that he is away trying to steady your breathing. Your mind is having a hard time deciding what to focus on. All you want to think about is Din but you know you’ll have plenty of time to do that once the two of you are safe. 

 It doesn’t take long, eventually you see Leo making his way up the stairs, Din isn’t far behind. 

You consider for the briefest moment, just forgiving him. 

For the longest time you considered Leo to be nothing more than someone who could be a bit annoying, you never thought of him as downright cruel. 

But then you see his expression. 

He looks at you as if he’s owed something and all your resistance snaps. You know he can’t see Kodo’s body in the darkness so you let him walk to you. 

“My queen…” He approaches skeptically as Din blocks the entrance.

“I wanted to talk to you about the Mandalorian.” You clear your throat and he immediately frowns.

“I do not think that is wise.”

“Did you know him, at all?” This has nothing to do with your plan, you just need to know. 

“I only interacted with him in brief instances.” You nod slowly. 

“And you knew how much he meant to me when you handed him that death sentence, right?” At this moment it doesn’t matter that Din is alive and well. You don’t care about that. You care about the days of agony he was put through, the pain Elaine had inflicted upon her when she got caught in the crossfire. 

“There’s no reason for us to have this conversation.” He almost turns to leave but you speak again. 

“I love him.”

“Loved.” He snaps back quickly, as if this entire ordeal is exhausting to him. 

Your jaw twitches. 

“Do you think he suffered down there?”

“Not at all, he was given a swift death, I’d consider him lucky.” 

“What about Elaine?” You’re surprised when Din speaks, Leo seems just as taken aback as you are. 

“She got what she deserved for witnessing an act of treason and doing nothing about it.” 

That’s the final straw for both of you.

“You know what, I think you are deserving of a reward, Leo. Din?” You look just over Leodall’s shoulder where Din’s eyes have gone nearly black. 

“Turn around and cover your ears.” The voice that speaks is one you didn’t think you’d ever hear again, it isn’t Din, it’s darker, deadlier. The Mandalorian is speaking now and you do exactly as you’re told. You turn, squeezing your eyes shut, you put your hands over your ears but even that cannot keep out the sounds of the carnage behind you. 

He takes his time. 

At first you aren’t sure how he kept him so quiet but when Din turns you around to face him you see how. It would be hard to call for help with a broken jaw, especially after your own tongue was shoved down your throat. 

You squint, searching over the damage to his body and see where Din carefully wrapped Leo’s stiff fingers around the vibroblade. 

“Are you okay?” He’s covered in gore when he asks and you simply nod, a few stray tears in your lash line. 

“I’m going to finish this.” You mumble, giving him one last look of reassurance before you do the thing you’ve been doing quite a lot of lately. 

You scream. 

You shriek, holding yourself closely to Din. It’s mostly an act, your wails of terror that echo through the halls. But a small part of you truly wonders if you’ll ever recover from the things you’ve done tonight.

After a few nerve wracking minutes you’ve got dozens of guards taking in the sight of your mess. 

You both play your parts perfectly. 

You cling to Din like a lifeline as you tell the head guard what happened. 

“Kodo and I, we- we were walking around the castle, he wanted to show me the view from the tower.” With a quivering finger you point to the window you know has the best view of the castle grounds. “We were celebrating. We were so happy we didn’t even see Leo following us.” You hide your face in Din’s tunic, letting out a shuddering exhale to imitate a sob. “I had just told him I was with child when Leodall attacked me.” You make a real spectacle of yourself as you weep against Din’s shirt, Din who notably goes rigid. “Kodo tried to protect me, he wanted to protect his heir but Leo just- he-” You whimper, earning yourself a room full of sympathetic gazes. “I screamed for help and thankfully this servant was here, he saved my life.” 

That’s all they need to be convinced, after all, who wouldn’t believe the queen.

At one point you’re asked why Leo would ever do such a thing. 

You tell them he hated Kodo.

Because he refused to make him a lord. 

And you speak loud enough for every guard in the room to hear you when you tell them that Elaine was innocent, that Leo falsely accused her. 

There were never any follow up questions. All of it made sense to them and even though it came from a terrible thing you’re free. You’re more than free. According to the way the monarchy on Naboo is structured you’re technically queen regent until your child comes of age. 

Kodo gets to die a hero.

The king who sacrificed his life for his unborn child. (That bothers you for quite some time.) 

But he dies nonetheless. 

And you can live with that because at the end of the day they’re putting him in the ground and you’re up here, with Din. You’ll have to wait an appropriate amount of mourning time before you take his hand in public, but he’s yours now. No one can tell you otherwise, what kind of person tells a widowed queen what she can and can’t do?

When the room clears you take him to your chambers, dismissing the guards who stand watch. 

“Kodo’s dead, leave me be.” Is all you say as you push past them with Din, you hear a brief worried discussion outside your door before they leave in a hurry. Din looks around the destruction of your room with a look of concern before his eyes settle on you. “Sorry, I- uh, didn’t handle things well when I thought you were- well.” You mumble apologetically but his look of worry is no longer focused on your room, it’s on your stomach as he makes his way over to you, carefully stepping over the mess.  

“Are you- are you really…?” 

“Yeah.” You smile at him but his reaction isn’t exactly what you were expecting. 

He cups your face in his hands, searching your eyes for any signs of distress but you know he won’t find any. Right now it doesn’t matter that you’ve done unimaginable things. It doesn’t matter that you’ve killed. Because somehow, despite it all, Din is okay. 

“I’m so sorry. If I had known I would have killed him long before you did.” He murmurs. 

“Hmm?” You hum softly, unable to tear your eyes away from his intense gaze. In the light you can see a little scar across the bridge of his nose, you want to reach out and touch it. 

“It doesn’t matter to me. We can do whatever you want, I’ll raise them as my own. I am more than willing to love this piece of you.” There’s a painful sincerity in his face and you become hyper aware of the fact that he assumes your baby really is Kodo’s. 

“Din-” Almost immediately he interrupts you; he drags his hands down your body, resting them on your stomach. 

“And we can live in the cabin. I’ll build a nursery the moment everything settles down, I will be the only father they ever know.”

“Din.” You say a bit more stern, trying to snap him out of his rambling. 

“Sarad’ika.” His thumb rubs a small circle against the fabric of your nightie. 

“It isn’t Kodo’s.” You give him a reassuring smile as he freezes in place. 

And you get to see it all. 

Every emotion you never got to enjoy when he was hidden behind steel. 

You get to watch as his concern melts away into a brief confusion that is quickly replaced with shock and processing. You get to see the way his eyes soften, and his lips part ever so slightly as he inhales a shuddering breath. If you had known just how expressive he was you never would have let him wear the helmet in the first place. He chews on his bottom lip briefly as he stares at you. Swallowing loudly.

“It’s mine?” The single sentence is shaky and breathless as you nod. 

“All yours.” You whisper back. 

His arms cage you in as he pulls your body flush with his, nearly lifting you off the ground.

“How is that- we were so careful…” He turns his head, pressing a series of kisses into your hair. You give him a skeptical look as you laugh.

“Were we?” 

“I guess not.” He shrugs, grinning from ear to ear as he looks at you. 

“It’s really mine?” He leans down to kiss you before you can even answer, making you laugh against his lips. 

“It’s really yours, and I already picked out a name.” Your heart flutters as his eyes light up, you just want to stare at him all day, partially because a part of you is worried he’ll disappear from your life all over again.

“Without me?” He sounds genuinely hurt, you lean up to kiss him again, hoping to soothe him.

“I think you’ll like it.” You mumble against his mouth after a moment. 

“How do you know it’s going to suit them, it’s too early.” He chuckles. 

“I just know.” You really do. A part of you had always had a vision of them, a little carbon copy of Din. A baby boy with his dark eyes and hair, you can feel it. “Can we go to the cabin? I don’t think I can stomach another night in here. The next few days I’m gonna have to deal with everything I did tonight, and I just want to spend tonight with you.” He nods, pulling you into one more embrace, unable to keep his hands off of you as he smiles. As much as you adore finally being able to look at him you suddenly worry that he might not be comfortable. “I have your helmet, if you want it.” You turn to fetch it but he keeps you pinned to him. 

“Don’t bother.”

“Are you sure? What about the creed?” The corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile softens. 

“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.” 

“You know you don’t have to be so poetic with me, I’m already yours, you’ve already wooed me.” You tease. 

“Then let’s go home.” He whispers. You smile as you leave your room, sneaking out the back entrance until the two of you are walking hand in hand across the courtyard and into the trees.

a/n : did a classic bks all nighter for this and im so tired, the edit was done through weary eyes lmao, feel free to lmk if there's any glaring issues

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[cosmerelists]

What Will Be The Windrunner Fifth Ideal?

[MAJOR SPOILERS FOR STORMLIGHT THROUGH RHYTHM OF WAR!]

So far Kaladin has sworn four ideals: (1) "Life before Death" etc., (2) "I will protect those who cannot protect themselves," (3) "I will protect even those I hate, so long as it is right," and (4) "I accept that there will be those I cannot protect."

But what will be the fifth and "final" Ideal (we all assume there will be secret extra oaths, right)? I've put together some guesses!

[Final Note: I'm sure this has already been discussed on Reddit and elsewhere, but I haven't done any research. These are just the ideas I could come up with!]

1. "I will protect what is right."

So far, the Windrunner oaths have focused on who you protect: the helpless, the hated, etc. So perhaps, for the Fifth Ideal, it goes abstract, and has the Radiant promise to protect what is right. This would parallel the Fifth Ideal of the Skybreakers, wherein they become the embodiment of Justice. The Windrunners, then, would perhaps become the embodiment of Honor.

2. "I will protect without doing harm."

Aka, the "Lirin was right all along" theory. Not gonna lie, I would HATE this, but it would perhaps be thematic. Lirin has been telling Kaladin all along that you cannot protect by killing, and Kaladin has at times felt discomfort about the fact that, say, protecting Dalinar & Adolin meant killing Singers who were just trying to protect their homeland. So perhaps the ultimate Windrunner ideal is to find a way to protect without causing harm?

3. "I will even sacrifice myself to save others."

I would hate this even more, not gonna lie. I think Kaladin desperately wants to die protecting someone, and I think instead that he should live. But at the same time, self-sacrifice is the ultimate sacrifice, and it could precede Kaladin, like, becoming Honor's vessel or something. So I had to throw it in.

4. "I will protect everyone."

This is going back to the idea that each Ideal has Kaladin focusing on a specific group of people: the helpless, those he hates, those he could not save. Perhaps the final oath is to realize that his protection extends to everyone. This would be another way to address Kaladin's discomfort about killing innocent soldiers in order to protect his friends. If instead his ideal is to protect everyone on every side of the conflict, then perhaps he would find a better way.

5. "I will protect everyone that I can."

I do like this small variation, as I think it's a nice callback to the Fourth Ideal & Kaladin's realization that he can't actually save everyone. By focusing on saving everyone he can, maybe he can continue to recognize that he can't do it all, but that he has to try as hard as possible anyway.

6. "I will protect everyone no matter the cost."

Aka, the "the Fifth Ideal is actually where it all went wrong" theory. So...we know that Surgebinders destroyed their original planet, which is why the humans are on Roshar to begin with. I am highly suspicious of the Skybreaker Fifth Ideal where they become the law. Nale has presumably sworn the Fifth Ideal, and he's still cool with hunting down & killing children. Maybe the Fifth Ideal is where the Radiants go too far, becoming the sort of people who could destroy a planet, you know? In that case, what if the Windrunner's Fifth Ideal is to go too far into protecting, so that they're willing to do anything?

7. "I will protect everyone, including myself."

This one doesn't quite feel right, I'll admit, but I also desperately want Kaladin to realize that taking care of himself also matters. This would be picking up the thread of Kaladin refusing to partake in his own therapy, because others need it more or whatever. Maybe to be truly self-actualized, he needs to realize that you "can't pour from an empty cup," as it were.

8. "I will protect more than just people's lives."

This could be another way to follow up on on the "Kaladin invents therapy" thread. Maybe Kaladin will realize that saving people on the battlefield is great, but he wants to do more--saving also their minds, their sense of self, their emotional wellbeing, etc. Making their lives better & happier rather than merely keeping them alive, you know? Maybe he'd even do that for himself...