#we stan nevertheless

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

refugees do not, in fact, stop being refugees because you don’t like their leaders

[aranciadotcom]

2008 was not a good look on joy bc what the hell was this

(you can tell cbn had 0 budget for the pilot omg)

[edgeray]

HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.

Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :

Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.

It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.

Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.

So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.

Courting a Lie

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words

You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 

You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.

You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 

“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 

“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 

“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 

“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 

It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”

That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 

“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 

“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.

Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 

“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 

“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 

“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 

“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.

And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 

Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 

You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 

— 

Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 

Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 

Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 

Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 

and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.

Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 

She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 

—

Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.

And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 

You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 

“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 

“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 

“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 

You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.

“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 

“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.

“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 

“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 

You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 

Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 

You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 

It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 

You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 

Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 

[darklinaforever]

It bothers me when I see posts saying how hot Thomas and Ellen are together, super sexy, passionate, on fire etc. Because the reality is that Thomas does not give real sexual pleasure to Ellen and remains fixated on his own male pleasure, Ellen being for him the perfect doting wife (as the society in which he lives and was born taught Thomas).

Also, seriously, the fact that Thomas tells Ellen that she is so doting at the beginning of the film, disturbed me in the sense that afterwards I saw a lot of people bringing out this scene to show how cute Thomas and Ellen are and how much in love and sexually fulfilled they are...

Whereas what Thomas is saying in this scene is essentially that he is too lucky to have a woman who is so submissive to him and willing to please him.

Like, Ellen's pleasure is not taken into account here, and it shows as much in the dialogue as in the behavior.

You don't need to be an expert on the era to understand it.

Yes, because there are people who say that the Ellenorlok stans argument about Ellen's unfulfilled sexuality with Thomas collapses when we see their introduction, and Ellen wildly kissing Thomas at the Harding house.

While the introductory scene shows us precisely that Ellen's sexuality is submissive and controlled by Thomas, that she wants more but that he does not give it to her (but Orlok does in the end in parralele with this scene when Ellen ask him more).

And that at the Hardings, Ellen almost tries to devour Thomas through kisses which he nevertheless keeps excessively chaste (lips tight).

It's not for nothing that when Orlok literally feeds on Thomas (so devour him), he will appear briefly in the guise of Ellen and hold Thomas as Ellen held Thomas in this same scene (but in a fucking bed this time). Orlok basically does what Ellen wanted to do.

How does Ellen seem sexually fulfilled with Thomas ?

She's shown constantly looking for more than Thomas gives her, and what's more Thomas basically tells Harding that abstinence is going to be required until he has enough money to be able to have children with Ellen later !

And if all that didn't make it clear to the viewer, well the only official sex scene they have together should make you understand it, with Ellen saying that Thomas will never be able to satisfy her like Orlok, Thomas who decides to sleep with Ellen only because his male ego is hurt, keeping the act ironically centered on him, an act which is done fully clothed with Ellen who asks Thomas to kiss her on her heart which he does not do.

The fact that people saw the film and came to the conclusion that Ellen & Thomas had a thriving sexuality appalls me.

[luminarystag]

Theory/Analysis: Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna were all in love with Harry

Whether or not they realized it

I’m not gonna talk too much about Ginny, since she’s the one Harry ends up with ultimately, but, re-reading the books, I think all of the core 6 kids were in love with Harry whether or not they realized it. Why do I think that? Well, let’s look:

Ron was in love with Harry:

This is one of the hardest to explain because I don’t think Ron understands that what he’s feeling for Harry isn’t just best friend-ship, and is actually love. But let’s look at the evidence:

Ron acts like an over-protective boyfriend. There are moments where Ron’s protectiveness genuinely comes across like something out of a fanfic. When he saw the scars on the back of Harry’s hand given by Umbridge, he pulls Harry’s hand up to his eyes to look while Harry desperately says it’s nothing. We’ve all read something like that in a fanfiction, haven’t we?

But it’s not just moments like that. It’s also that he is willing to stand between anyone and Harry. Take this moment from Deathly Hallows, when the Minister of Magic of all people, points his wand at Harry, and Ron doesn’t hesitate, not even for a moment, to stand up and take out his wand. That’s a bit beyond friendship protectiveness, wouldn’t you agree?

Or at the very end of Deathly Hallows, when Voldemort showcases Harry’s body to Hogwarts, and Ron breaks free of the curse Voldemort has them all under to yell in Harry’s defense. Again, that is way too intense for someone you only view as a friend

Ron declaration of loyalty to Harry is the most romantic moment in all the books

I’m talking about, of course, in Half Blood Prince when Ron says, “We’re with you whatever happens.” This is genuinely the most romantic line in all the books, and far outweighs anything between him and Hermione. And again, that’s a very intense and intimate thing to say to someone who is only your best friend

Hermione was in love with Harry:

Romione stans always get mad whenever anyone brings this up, but it is possible for Hermione (and Ron) to be in love with more than one person

Hermione’s most intimate moments in the series are all with Harry

This is another thing I don’t necessarily see brought up a lot, but all of Hermione’s most intimate moments are with Harry as the person she’s being intimate with. I don’t mean intimate as in they hugged. I mean as in showing genuine care and affection for others. A really talked about moment is Hermione beaming at Harry at the wedding between Bill and Fleur. Not Ron. Harry

But she also is the one who told Harry he was a great wizard and that he would be able to defeat Voldemort in their first year. Or beam when she hears that Harry called her the best of the year to Slughorn. She’s also very physically affectionate with Harry. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, brushed his hair with her fingers on the horcrux hunt, grabbed him by the hand and ran to show him the house elves in the kitchen. There’s no denying that Hermione is just drawn to Harry, and super affectionate with him

Neville was in love with Harry:

This is definitely the hardest to explain because I know for sure he doesn’t realize love is what he feels for Harry. But nevertheless, it’s all here. Neville’s grandma says that Harry is the one Neville speaks most highly of. Sure, that may not mean much on first glance, just that he personally likes Harry the best. But than you remember that he asked Hermione to the Yule Ball the previous book, and suddenly him speaking most highly of Harry takes on a new meaning

Neville also breaks into the Ministry of Magic, not knowing that Sirius is innocent. All he knows is that Harry is upset and scared, and insists on coming to help. Again, you could argue this is just loyalty, but it’s pretty extreme loyalty to break into the government to save who you think is a murderer for someone who’s just a friend. It makes me think there is more to what Neville’s feeling for Harry

Luna is in love with Harry:

Once again, a case of all of Luna’s most intimate moments in the series being with Harry

Her and Harry’s talk at the end of Order of the Phoenix is so beautiful. He is the only one we see her canonically tell about her mom to, and she’s the one who successfully comforts him, knowing exactly what he needs to hear in that moment in a way no one else, not even Ron and Hermione, know

Luna also recognized Harry through Polyjuice Potion because of the expression he had. That is so unbelievably intimate: that Luna can see through Harry’s magical disguise because of his expression and know without a doubt that it’s him. And they also have so many little moments of mutually knowing what the other needs, like Luna knowing exactly what to say at Dobby’s funeral knowing Harry couldn’t manage it, but he even internally thinks she said it for him

Conclusion

Honestly, if you disagree that’s fine, it’s just what I personally believe based on my last re-read and analyzing his relationships with his friends

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part One

What you can offer Jackson is your healing hands.

2.6k words

Series Masterlist | Part Two Warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, we stan one (1) apocalypse grump, no use of y/n, I haven't written fanfic in a while but I'm hoping this will get me back into writing regularly, I have no idea how many parts this will be

Minors DNI

If you were to try and tally up all your losses you wouldn’t, initially, struggle. Your beloved dad, on outbreak day, and then months later your sister to a pack of raiders capable of slipping silently past a rotting barn wall. Those were clearly devastating, actual moments that bifurcate the before times and the after. Your liberty in the QZ, your hope for a sane and assured new government, your smuggling partner trapped under the barbed wire fence as a FEDRA soldier narrowed in on you both, her struggling hands going limp in the dirt, her eyes no longer following your movements as you scrabbed to free her, the look of resignation on her face, the way she mouthed for you to ‘go’. Those losses somehow both enormous and incalculable.

It was the smaller losses that caught you up. Newsprint smeared on your fingertips. Breaking in a new pair of stiff leather shoes. The uneven leg of your massage table, which caused it to wobble when someone clambered onto it, meaning that you had to warn your clients ahead of time while it wobbled, it was stable, and that you could relate. You knew it was a bad look, that the table alone didn’t inspire confidence in your clientele, and you missed it more than you had any fucking right to when the world, for all intents and purposes, imploded.

You made do in Jackson. Your travelling party of three had heard of a mythical commune of warm sheep and cold beer and you wanted, more than anything, to believe in it.  In the before times your mother had sung a song about Jackson with your father, peeling potatoes at the sink, and you had hummed it under your breath the three-and-a-half-month trek. ‘Honey, I’m going to Jackson.’ ‘See if I care.’

As you approached the gates the three of you had already come up with a plan to pitch for entry. Ray was going to pretend he was injured, and Marla was going to carry him, limping but stoic, over the threshold. The night he refused to take first watch you had promised to break his ankle for real to make it really convincing, and he had laughed because he knew you didn’t have it in you, and you had joined in, because it was true. Marla was toying with the idea of being pregnant, and you were going to just be mute. Either by birth or by trauma, you hadn’t decided. But the plan was to be as pitiful as possible, as non-threatening and as desperate, such that not only would you not be shot on sight but that you would be taken in, warmed to, eventually forgiven your trespass. On the side of a mountain, with everything you had ever owned strapped to your back and the losses tallying behind you, it had seemed like the best strategy.

It had failed almost immediately. Marla may have been able to pull off the pregnancy thing if it was early, but Ray kept forgetting which ankle he had supposedly hurt, and when you tripped on a rock coming through the gate you swore at the top of your lungs. It turned out it didn’t matter. Throughout quarantine you had been able to meet Maria, then Tommy, and you had been advised that you were to pitch your worthiness to stay at the next town council. You had two days to determine what you could offer Jackson. You had looked down at your two hands.

__

Marla was a good shot, and was put on patrol. Ray spoke French and was good with codes, and he pitched helping out with reconnaissance. He even pronounced it the proper French way at the council meeting, and you saw Tommy arch a jet-black brow in Maria’s direction, who rolled her eyes. Standing on shaky knees before a panel of non-infected non-raiders who nevertheless held your life in their hands, you showed them your palms.

‘Pain relief,’ you said, and you smiled in what you hoped was a warm way. ‘I can heal, with these.’

‘You trying to tell us you’re some kind of witch doctor?’ the man on the end asked, and you wondered what it would be like to lean over and pluck each hair out of his nostrils, until his eyes were streaming.

‘No,’ you said, and you felt your cheeks redden. ‘Massage, mostly remedial but also deep tissue. I can help with bad backs, with sore legs and arms, bad necks. All that patrolling, all that watching the horizon, must be murder on the body.’ You scanned their faces, Nostril Man not convinced but Maria smiling warmly at you. You swallowed, trying to wet your throat to prevent it from just outright closing over. ‘Surely you want your men and women, the people out there protecting Jackson, to be strong?’

__

The house you were allocated was four over from Marla, and Ray was placed three streets back towards the gate. You had idly wondered if you had been split up to try and avoid trouble, but actually you enjoyed the solitude for the first time since the apocalypse. Having had to travel in packs, having been crammed in four or six to a one-bedroom apartment in the QZ, having listened to Ray retell his story of crossing the Canadian border every might for at least a year and a half, you relished the way that you could once again hear the ringing in your ears. When you rolled your shoulders, you heard the spinal fluid pool and bubble at the base of your skull.

The benefit of having the place to yourself was that the second bedroom easily converted to your treatment room. Tommy and a couple of the other men from town had brought in a spare dining table, and you found that with enough blankets and towels piled on top of it you could make a decently comfortable surface to lie on. Ray had offered to cut a hole in the middle like a real massage table, but you had seen him try to chop wood one night with a blunt axe, a night when you thought without a fire you would freeze to death, but it would still be better than listening to him whine about having nearly chopped off his toes for the rest of time. Instead, you created a ring of towels just back from the edge, a position that meant people could still breathe as they lay face down, and you practiced how you would apologise to them for the inconvenience of it, what joke you could make to try and win back their confidence, marvelled at the fact that even at the end of the world you were still trying to cover for your inadequacies.  

Maria was your first client, and as soon as you were convinced you could accommodate her growing stomach comfortably as she lay on her side, you welcomed her in.

‘It’s just my hips, my lower back,’ she said, as you poured shampoo on your hands to stand in for massage oil.

‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you said, not adding that it could also be sudsy, and wilted a little inside as Maria flinched when you touched her. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said again, as she exhaled.

‘Can you feel where it is?’ she asked, and you hummed.

‘The pain?’

‘You said you could heal.’ You smiled, pressing down on a knot hitched to Maria’s hip flexor. She sighed, and you watched as the tension disappeared from her shoulders, her body slumping forward slightly such that you had to grab her knee and roll her back.

‘You tell me,’ you said, and she huffed at you.

‘Those men, the council, you have no idea how little they would understand why we needed you,’ she said.

‘Wait ‘til I’ve finished putting my elbow in your butt cheek, then tell me that again,’ you said.

‘Wait, what?’ Maria startled, but you were already on her, promising that the pain would fade as the tension released, ignoring the stream of obscenities, having heard far worse in your time. The before times.

__

Maria spread the word and soon you were busy, with a regular list of clients that heavily favoured the women of Jackson until they were able to convince the men that they, too, had musculoskeletal systems. Maria was a regular right up until she got too big to haul herself onto the table, and then she would just sit in your kitchen and make you tea, explaining the history of the place until you started to feel properly at home there.

One afternoon she sat with her head resting in her hand, as you held her foot in your lap, gently massaging over her sock.

‘You don’t come out much,’ she said. ‘I see you in the mess hall for breakfast, then you’re gone.’

‘I have clients early these days, sometimes a full patrol before they go out.’

‘What about the off days? The days that we don’t patrol?’

‘Washing. I go through a lot of towels.’

‘You need help with those?’

‘No, I like doing it. Warm water is such a dream, I still can’t believe it when I fill up the bucket.’

‘After work I never see you at the bison.’

You pinched her toe a little hard and she hissed, and you felt the heat on your cheeks.

‘I am grateful for my place here,’ you said, and you looked up into her eyes then, your hands still but cradling her foot to your chest. ‘That you advocated for me, that you helped me set myself up. I know that Tommy wouldn’t have if you hadn’t asked him.’

She smiled, glancing down at the tea in her cup.

‘It’s hard to be back amongst so many people, and to not be…’ you trailed off. Marla came around some nights, but it had been at least a week since you’d seen Ray. You had thought they were your safe people, but in a big house behind a secure wall, you wondered how much that was true.

‘To not be waiting for them to shoot you, to stab you?’ Maria finished, and you sighed.

‘Or to not get stabbed or shot themselves.’

‘You lost people?’ Maria asked, and then blinked, slowly. ‘That was a stupid question. Of course you did.’

The pattern of the tiles on the kitchen floor was two left and two right, you noticed, except for where the bench had been installed. There the pattern was interrupted, as if someone had miscounted, and there was a row of three along the perimeter.

‘Who did you lose?’ Maria asked you, and you gently lowered her foot to the ground.

‘All of them, just like all of us,’ you said, and you held out your harms such that Maria could pull herself up, and she sighed but used them to get to her feet, and you were grateful even in this moment to have helped someone.

__

You happened to be on your porch when you heard the commotion, a bunch of people running down the street towards the front gate. You thought for a moment of an invasion, that raiders had breached the wall, and wondered what, if anything, you would need to carry with you, what you could fit in a bag, looked despairingly at the snow on the mountain tops wondering how you could possibly carry enough blankets to ward off inevitable death. You braced yourself for screams, for gun shots, was genuinely confused when you heard none. Curious now, and less planning your immediate escape, you stepped down to your front gate, leaning over to see what the fuss was. A group of people were moving as one down the main street, and you stepped out onto the pavement to get a better look. You could see Tommy, his black hair sliced back to his shoulders making him stand out even in a crowd of other men. He was walking beside another man, the crowd parting to let them through, and with Tommy’s arm wrapped around his shoulder it meant that the other man had to stoop forward slightly, such that you could only see the top of his head. He had streaks of grey through his hair, his legs straight and strong underneath him. Tommy was gripping the front of the man’s shirt and talking into his ear. Behind them a younger girl, couldn’t be more than 15, trailed with her eyes set on the ground in front of her.

You watched as Maria came out of the sheriff’s office and stood on the pavement in front of them. She smiled when Tommy turned to her, letting go of the other man to wrap her in a bracing hug. You watched as the other man straightened, caught a glimpse for the first time of the patchy beard across his cheeks, of the roman line of his nose, of the flinty look in his eyes. He turned to the young girl, clapped her once or twice on the back, nodding in Maria’s direction. You saw that they nodded to each other, that this wasn’t as simple of a homecoming, that the girl carried pain deeper than any two hands could reach.

You had to wait three days for Maria to visit again before you could ask her about them, and when you did you felt her energy shift. Big as she was it was difficult for her to fidget, but you sensed that she would shuffle in your kitchen chair if she could.

‘Joel is Tommy’s brother,’ she told you, and when you thought about the shape of his jaw you realised you could see a sort of resemblance. This man had seemed to stoic, so closed off, compared to the brightness of the smile Tommy had been throwing at him. It had meant that you initially hadn’t seen it.

‘And the girl?’ you asked, and watched as Maria started fiddling with the hem of her shirt, stretched as it was over the heft of her belly.

‘A kind of daughter, I guess. Adopted, as much as anyone can be right now.’ Maria avoided your eyes and you lowered them, hoping that it would encourage her to continue. ‘They were here, before, for a brief time. A few months. Joel was… he and Ellie were heading down to Salt Lake, we weren’t sure if they were going to make it back, and Tommy…’ she stopped herself, gathered her thoughts, and you heard your own pulse in your neck as you waited.

‘Tommy had started to think that he’d lost him, lost them both. He’d started to think it was his fault, maybe, that he should have gone with them.’

‘But you’re…’ and you stopped, gesturing to her very pregnant frame.

‘I know, and he knew that he couldn’t have, but it didn’t feel like it when he thought his brother was gone.’

You didn’t need your hands to feel the tension coming off her, and you stood then, and reached out to her shoulder, picking up the tendon and easing it down. You remembered back in school when your teacher had shown you the diagram of the fascia, taught and spidery over the pink and red of the muscle. She rolled her neck, her head slumping towards you, and you offered her your torso as a pillow.

‘It doesn’t feel like a warm return,’ you said, eventually, and Maria sighed, reaching up to still your hand.

‘He’s a dangerous man,’ she said, after a while. ‘He’s done things, Tommy did them too but that’s his big brother, you know?’

You thought back to the way Tommy had gripped Joel’s shirt, the way he had been talking animatedly into his brother’s ear, the curl of Joel in on himself in response to it, the instinct to close down in the face of his brother’s overwhelming love.

‘We’ve all done things,’ you said, after a while.

‘It’s different,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why, it just is.’

‘What about the girl?’ you asked, and she softened then, under your touch.

‘She’ll defend Joel to the ends of the Earth,’ she said.

‘You don’t trust her judgement?’ you asked.

‘I don’t trust that Joel isn’t keeping her in the dark,’ she muttered, and it was quiet enough that you had to lean over to hear, and when the words unfurled around you you pulled back from them, the concern and the weight and the finality of them, the heaviness of them in your ears.

[thewalrusespublicist]

Hi! Your blog is so well-researched and thorough, going through your tags is a delight. I’ve been going through a rabbit hole reading about John and Yoko in the late seventies, and I’m morbidly fascinated but it’s so sad. You make me want to read Dakota Days, but I’m afraid it’s going to be really depressing.

Do you think John’s journals (1975-1980) will ever come out, assuming they haven’t been destroyed?

Because I feel that the best piece of evidence we have that all was not well during John’s househusband phase is that the Estate has chosen not to publish them. Not that I think that there’s anything wildly scandalous in them: in fact, they’re probably pretty boring. I just think it will paint the portrait of a deeply depressed man, paralyzed by his mental illness and pathologically jealous of other pop/rock stars (Paul). It’s not positive for the Estate, and it’s not positive for Paul, because it will make people question once again if John even liked him. Given all that, I can’t think of a good reason for Sean to publish them, except for money, lol.

But if he does, I can totally see it becoming a watershed moment in the fandom. It’s an extreme comparaison, but bear with me: I remember when I was in university and Heidegger’s black book was published. All of a sudden everyone was like did you KNOW he was wildly antisemitic?? And like, yeah. We already knew he had a card in the nazi party. But his stans could always rationalize it in a way that becomes very hard to do when it comes in the words of the man himself. Ironically, considering the mild nature of the material, I can see his journal striking a worse blow to John’s reputation than Goldman’s book, or May’s, or John Green’s or Seaman’s.

Hi anon!

Thank you so much for your lovely message!

Late 70s and John and Yoko is endlessly fascinating. They're almost like a gothic tale mixed with absurdist satire served with a side of good old-fashioned dysfunction. John's whole existence at that time seems akin to a 1970s remake of The Yellow Wallpaper and its crazy to see how the gap between reality and PR started to widen as the decade wore on. On that note, I would highly recommend Dakota Days. True, you are being taken round on a journey by a con-man guide who does everything to lure you into his perspective as well as twist events to frame himself as the ultimate truth-sayer and voice of reason. Nevertheless, the picture he paints to me is so consistent with their characters in the 70s that it seems at worst a bang on parody of their true personalities and I believe the skeleton of his narrative is accurate.

On the diaries, I do believe that at least some copies or illegal copies are still out there in the world. Whether the originals have been destroyed ... I don't think so BUT, they are probably locked in a safe in the heart of the Dakota at this point considering they got nicked twice (like how, how??). I also believe that the manuscript for Peter Dogget's book will still exist somewhere (even if it's just on Dogget's laptop) and will probably be published at some point/things will leak out about it.

As for how I feel about the contents and them getting released, I'm conflicted on near every level. I get your comparison totally. From what we know of the contents, whilst some passages seems to have contained endearing elements of love, self-improvement and self-reflection, a lot of it seems to be dripping in self-absorption, delusion, lust, paranoia, narcissism and petty, jealous thoughts towards others. And it's disappointing, there's no other word for it; mundanely, day-to-day, deep bone disappointing. It's hard not to feel an exhausted disappointment when Robert Rosen talk about John wanting Yoko to get back at Paul by buying a really nice cow. It's hard not to feel disgust over John allegedly gloating over Paul's arrest. From the sounds of it the diaries go further than showing a human being with flaws: they show a pretty awful, weak individual. (To be clear I'm not saying that's who John was, just what the diaries apparently present.)

Therein lies one of the ethical problem with releasing the diaries because is that really fair? If you really think about it, most people have passing unpleasant thoughts and for a lot of people a diary is a form of venting where they only write about a fraction of their actual thoughts and feelings down and often their most anti-social ones. Is it fair to judge John on probably his most base and aggressive thoughts and impulses; impulses that are likely being fueled by severe, untreated mental illness and an abusive dynamic?

The whole private venting aspect also leads on to the other question of is it fair that anyone should even be seeing the diaries as John never intended unedited publication? In any normal circumstance I would say absolutely not, these are private thoughts that should be kept private. The unique issue with these circumstances though is that this isn't just anyone, this is John from JohnandYoko, the couple who presented their lives as a glass case to look in, who taped their own therapy sessions and miscarriages for public consumption and who most significantly presented themselves as an aspirational marriage. It's exhibitionism but significantly, it's artificial exhibitionism with the faux candidness and lack of boundaries being a smokescreen for the actual dynamic and what was going on.

It’s a bit of an ethical quandary, how far is reasonable when it comes to refuting a lie? If we are invited and encouraged to see an intensely intricate albeit false view of their relationship, should we also feel entitled to the real deal? Or should we just accept the inaccurate PR about the couple as that is what his widow wishes to present, even if we know that it isn't entirely true? Should we be okay with attempts to refute the established narrative being sued out of existence on feeble legal grounds and occasionally by illegal means? The recent David Sheff Yoko bio apparently still perpetuates the idea that John's life did not have happiness nor meaning before Yoko. Is a claim that controversial and arguably demeaning to John's life and work pre-Yoko fair to have out without any allowed pushback? Crucially, would the diaries be kept from publication if they were mostly positive as you raised? (I think no, and that's part of the problem.) If you disagree with the idea that the Lennon estate narrative should go unchallenged, does it justify using the personal and private ramblings of a long deceased man who can't consent to support the argument? Like you said, we know enough to know that the diaries are the smoking gun that all was really not well in the depths of the Dakota and that the PR of the blissful latter half of the 70s was a fantasy. Is it just enough to know that the diaries exist and their outline, do we really need to hear any greater detail? These are questions I wrestle with and don't have any solid answers to, save the gut instinct that Dogget’s work should not have been blocked given the situation John’s legacy is in.

In any case I think handling and discussing the diaries would require nuance, care and a level of emotional detachment that I think would be difficult for nearly anyone interested to achieve. If they ever do get released, I can't imagine the backlash to the contents being anything but seismic.

(Adding to all this is, if the diaries are released in full, I really hope it's, NOT in Paul's lifetime. He seems to have finally got to a good place with John's memory post-Get Back. The last thing he ((or anyone)) needs to see are literal novels worth of their best friend's mental illness induced obsessive rants about them. It would be heartbreaking and disturbing and just cruel at this point in his life.)

[blorger]

The Great Longbottom Bully chronicles: friendly fire edition

What started as a humble Draco stan's attempt to re-evaluate his involvement with the oft-bullied Neville has quickly become a sentient behemoth of epic proportions (see: pt.1 & pt.2).

In this section, I will examine the unkind ways in which Neville is treated, both by the narration and by his own friends.

It came from inside the house (if by "house" we mean the author)

I always felt like, in the first books, Neville is treated rather callously in order to fit the stereotype of the go-to comic relief guy, but I was never able to articulate just why I felt this way. As I went though the books for the purpose of this exercise, I paid close attention the language used to portray him, starting with his physical description.

It's well documented that JKR uses fatness as a visual shorthand for a character's failings: from Vernon and Dudley Dursley all the way to Peter Pettigrew, her fat characters are portrayed as either comedically evil or somewhat pathetic (and sometimes both). The plus-size character she is perhaps kindest to is Molly Weasley and even then her fatness is used to place her in the archetype of the Mama Bear. In keeping with this theme - wherein a character can't just be fat because sometimes people are fat - one of the characters that gets this treatment is Neville, and it's done in order for him to better fit the stereotype of the clumsy oaf.

Up until the sixth book Neville is described as round faced and pudgy. He doesn't sit, he heaves himself, and in doing so he squashes things, often to comedic effect. Neville is clumsy and uncoordinated and his fatness is used in conjunction with that to really drive the point that he's not to be taken seriously home.

We can also see the role Neville is meant to play in the story by the way his emotions are portrayed: Neville spends his first 4 years at Hogwarts in a constant state of comically exaggerated fear.

I tried cataloguing all the descriptors used to indicate Neville's tone and I had to give up in shame because JKR seems to have gone ham on the thesaurus in order to signal Neville's anxiousness and timidity in increasingly creative ways; nevertheless here's some interesting factoids:

the verb used most often to describe Neville's tone is squeak (by a large margin) followed by choke, sob and moan.

Neville's most common state of mind is frightened - he speaks fearfully, he cowers, he is terrified - followed closely by sad - he speaks miserably, tearfully, unhappily - and anxious - he is jumpy, nervous, tremulous; he is twice "close to a nervous collapse".

When the narrative shifts to a more serious tone, around book 4, we see a sudden drop in the usage of these descriptors. As Neville's role in the story becomes more important, we notice the disappearance of what were once the hallmarks of his personality. All of a sudden, Neville is no longer forgetful and clumsy as apparently those traits cannot coexist with his new heroic persona (Neville 2.0. if you will). I would call this character growth if Neville retained at least some if his previous mannerisms; as it stands Neville's growth ends up reading more like a personality transplant (not unlike what happens to Ginny).

We can also observe this shift in character by the way his friends and peers interact with him, which brings me to the next section:

With friends like these, who needs enemies?

HARRY POTTER

Harry is generally kind to Neville but the way his kindness is presented often reads like condescension:

(PS, Neville tries to do Harry a solid and ends up joining him in detention)

Prior to OotP, their conversations are often superficial in nature and very short. Additionally, Harry does not seem to want to hang out with Neville a whole lot and often goes out of his way to avoid him.

(PS, Harry would like to learn wingardium leviosa without Neville, thanks)

It must be noted that, since the books are mostly told from Harry's point of view, many of the uncharitable descriptors used for Neville could also be attributed to Harry. It's an assessment I somewhat disagree with since the language Harry uses in his (explicitly stated and delineated) thoughts is often less harsh than the narration's.

BONUS HARRY WTF:

(from PoA, Harry is imagining how Sirius must have killed poor poor Peter)

This is one of those Harry remarks that kind of straddles the line between genuine character assessment and authorial dickishness. At this point in the story Harry doesn't know that Peter is a traitor and a murderer so, by imagining him to be Neville-like, Harry lets us infer that they are both to be seen as hapless and bumbling individuals. JKR does know who Peter really is, though, and she makes the deliberate choice of comparing the two.

RON WEASLEY

Ronald Bilius Weasley is not exactly known for his tact, there's no two ways about it. Furthermore, as our everyman character, it often falls on him to illustrate the status quo with his observations. From Ron we get gems such as:

(from PS)

+ BONUS HARRY

(Harry's corresponding nightmare in PoA)

The thought of Neville Longbottom on a broom strikes fear in the hearts of many, it seems. Neville's accident in PS's flying lesson and the ensuing chaos seem to be a core memory for the Gryffindors.

(CoS, Ron tries to make Hermione feel better about her muggleborn status by putting Neville down)

This sentence is important because it helps establish Neville's role among his peers. Not only it seems to be a universally acknowledged fact that Neville is hopeless at magic, it is socially acceptable for his classmates to say so.

and

(GoF, Ron makes sure we're aware that Neville is on the lowest rung of the Hogwarts social ladder)

This scene serves a dual purpose: yes, Ron is once again indicating that we're supposed to infer that Neville is an uggo and a loser, but he's doing so because he's secretly miffed that Hermione has someone to go to the Yule Ball with that isn't him. Ron contains multitudes.

(PS, Neville tries to enforce curfew, the golden trio has no time for rules, Snape is up to evil!)

I put this scene last, despite it occurring during PS, because it perfectly encapsulates what seems to be the general Gryffindor attitude towards Neville during the first books: Neville may be a hopeless dullard but he's their hopeless dullard, as such Gryffindors are the only people allowed to dunk on him (because they're Gryffindors and therefore inherently Good). Speaking of which:

GRYFFINDORS

Here's more excerpts that plainly show just what Neville's place among his fellow Gryffindors is:

(PS, Draco just cursed Neville)

This incident is treated as funny by everyone except Hermione (you go girl). The only problem Harry & co. seem to really have with what happened is that it's Malfoy who did the cursing, again letting us know that when a malicious act comes from a Gryffindor it's funny and also a prank but when it comes from a Slytherin it's bullying (here's a novel idea: why not both?).

and

(OotP, the twins are such pranksters LOL ROFLMAO)

See? It's ok if the mean-spirited joke comes from a Good Guy, why, Neville even joins in the laughter! How often must have this happened to Neville for him to have learned to laugh the embarrassment away? I wouldn't put such a big emphasis on this type of friendly fire if it happened in the context of a solid friendship based on mutual respect, but what we actually see in the books is that these "pranks" happen to Neville whilst he's still treated as somewhat of an outsider. These instances happen before the introduction of Neville 2.0 (now with more courage!), not after.

Just like with his gran's (and Snape's) bullying, both the language used to describe Neville and the opinion of his peers change completely once Neville 2.0 drops. From book 6 onward Neville is part of the hero squad and thus he can no longer be subject to ridicule. Up until then, though, we are clearly meant to laugh at Neville's expense and call me a party pooper but I find this to be rather mean spirited.

To cleanse our palates, I'd like to add a bonus section:

⭐️ The congratulatory gold star award for being a Decent Person ⭐️

This award goes to Hermione Jean Granger who, despite not being exactly known for her tact and delicacy, manages to constantly treat Neville with kindness and compassion, especially when he needs it the most:

and

(GoF, Barty Crouch jr. has just traumatized Neville by showing him the curse that ruined his parents' minds forever)

You go girl, and thank you for your service.

[stvllioner]

On to Better Things | k. bakugo

      Pro Hero!DILF!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM] Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, angst, strangers to lovers.

sfw — toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.

nsfw — sexual content, pro hero!bakugo sorry not sorry lmao, bakugo got rizz, fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.

COUNT: 11.4k words (45 mins.)

READ MORE: masterlist + [students | bakugo]

A/N: whooph the warnings… imo, it's nothing too serious, but yk i gotta put the warnings up!! it's not graphic, but it does talk ab the stuff listed. i didnt know how else to craft a toxic ex-baby daddy type of situation, and it divulged into this 😭 also use yalls brains with the sfw & nsfw discernment for the warnings… ofc i do not take lightly about what's written, so dont twist it any other way and the heavier subjects being under sfw. i digress!! ive been wanting to write this request for a while and finally got around to it. unfortunately, i alr want to rewrite. :') despite that, i actually kinda really liked this one so i hope yall fw it too. 🫶🏽 thank you, anon!

"Mommy!" Your daughter, Niyuki, calls out to you as she runs into your arms.

She had recently turned 6 years old and still loves the end of the day on Fridays where she could run into your arms, and recount everything about what she had learned that week. Niyuki is pretty much a chatterbox and you weren't too sure where she got it from considering that even your… ex wasn't quite the talkative one either. As you grew to love this quality about her, you found it endearing. Phone calls with her were always a delight and that was how she had persuaded (begged) you to let her go to the park despite having other plans for the day.

You had promised on Monday that she would be able to go to the park in addition to ending her day Friday night off with having a sleepover with her best friend. Niyuki, being an excitable kid, wanted to go straight from school to the park so she wouldn't waste any more time than she already had.

"Hi, Niyuki!" You beam back, a loving smile on your face as you pepper her face in kisses, and hold her cheeks as she tries to shy away with her boundless amounts of giggles. "How was your da-"

"Great -- Mommy you promised we could go to the park today!" Niyuki lightly pushes away from you, a slight whine to her voice as she attempts to get away from your onslaught of affection.

"We can still go, I can't greet my little angel first before I do that?" You poke her cheek as you stand up straight and hold your hand out for her to hold. "Tell me about your day, pumpkin."

There was a skip in her step as she recounted her day to you. When Niyuki gets started, she never stops. She talked about the first moment her feet reached the school grounds, to before school had started, then she talked about her first few classes, after that what she did during lunch and how much fun she had at recess, the "drama" (very unserious but nevertheless cute) that happened before classes resumed and so on. Niyuki is also the animated type and could often run out of breath when she talks. She would use her hands and voice inflictions just to convey what she was speaking about. Sometimes, you even had to remind her to slow down and that time was going nowhere when talking with you.

It was moments like this when you could take in the rambunctiousness and appreciate your lovable daughter. You two only seemed to have special moments like these—well, at least you thought they were special—because of the separation between you and your toxic ex.

Before you two had split your relationship had been decent. Despite that though, you were incredibly in love with him, but the same wasn't reciprocated in a way that emotionally gave back. He'd make excuses as to why he wasn't open to you, his reasoning that he "loved differently" and that if you really loved him you would believe him. So you did. Over, and over, and over again. Hoping that the days where he showed up like in the beginning would become more frequent, but your willingness to stay was how he knew he could toy with you.

He had been your first when you had finally agreed to be an item when you were in your early twenties and it took a long time to finally separate from him when things got bad. In addition to dealing with the conflicting feelings of your then-boyfriend, your friends who only wanted the best for you, and your close family members, you also had to deal with yourself. Nights and days spent venting and breaking down about the man had become so common that your friends' concerns grew. You had so many negative thoughts at that time and you were naive to truly believe that there was a happy ending to overcome this predicament. That his way of loving could change for both of you. His manipulative questions would often linger in your head if you left him, and who were you to argue? When arguments would start to come up again almost weekly, it always ended up with you an emotional mess while he "proved" to you that he was the only one who could handle you.

When your ex noticed you started to pull away, he suddenly had an interest in starting a family. Late nights where you two would lay in bed after making up, he'd share his daydreams about you mothering his children, how beautiful and perfect you'd be to fit in his little world.

Family this, family that. Family values, family roles, family life. You two had been friends since you both were in high school, and it only made sense that you two were dating now and getting married soon. Hell, he even made you question what would your family think if you were "running around" instead of being faithful to him. Imagine the embarrassment to your family if you threw all of that away and weren't able to find someone else like him?

People talk, people notice. Many of the older women noted how great you two looked together, and he was well off with a great future that could support you both. Neither did it help that you changed your once passionate future for being a pro-hero to a different career that was deemed less reliable than your previous choice. It was in your best interest that you stayed with him to avoid the awful gossip in town.

When you haven't been in a situation like yours with an inconsiderate lover, it's hard to understand why you stayed as long as you did. Consequently from being his friend for so long and dating him for years meant he knew the sort of things to target your psyche. To reinforce the pressures you had of making your family look good, mixed with the hidden fears of the burden of following the footsteps of your successful siblings as well.

It was a lot to take in and it wasn't long before you gave in. You just wanted him to be who he was again. The stress only grew older with you and the more time that passed had a looming connotation that the older you got the more undesirable and unfit you are to find another relationship. Even past that, you gave so many years to him. You were a virgin when you two had met, and he had already been around. He knew how to kiss you right, he memorized your soft spots and remembered the best ways to make you come undone. He'd expertly sweet talk you after each session, and on days when you were feeling down he would be the first person to show up, usually bearing gifts of some sort coupled with affection. You couldn't understand what had changed. Why did he decide to start treating you like this? You were vulnerable and scared, and nothing like the familiar could ease the fabricated feeling of comfort.

You thought that having his child would finally fix things but you were so wrong. So very, very wrong. After your first semester in the pregnancy, you had heard talk about people seeing your supposed boyfriend—the father of the child you were soon to birth—with other women. Of course, you didn't believe it, and you refused to listen when your friends tried to tell you. In this stage, you were mostly shut in, as this was taught to be the best preparation for giving birth. You couldn't fathom the fact he would stoop so low. He had his low moments, but not like this. He would never.

He had disconnected you from everyone who had truly cared for you and even convinced your family that you were safe and protected with him. It wasn't until one evening when he had the gall to meet one of his mistresses outside of your house is when you realized it was all true, but it was all too late.

You were an emotional wreck for days. You had hit your lowest and it didn't help that your delivery date was getting closer every day that passed. You'd weep to yourself when you were sure he wasn't around and soon enough the house that you had (forced) yourself to love had once again become a prison. A night when you were tired of the pain is when you decided to reach out to your friends and family again. It was a shameless plea for help and you didn't care how desperate you looked and you wanted out. At first, your parents weren't supportive of the fact that you wanted to leave the man but you didn't care. You wanted to leave everything behind and not give this horrible chapter in your life a look back ever again. With enough talking and white lies, you were able to make a workaround to at least get back up on your feet after your delivery.

The delivery of your daughter, Niyuki, was thankfully a smooth one. Not at all enjoyable but very few complications came along the way when the time came. You had made a deal with your parents that you would stay with them so you could comfortably recover from the delivery whilst being able to safely be under their vision when your ex and his in-laws would come over. Your friends started to visit when you were healing more and had even convinced you to go out with them which you hadn't done for over a year. You were utterly scared as you had missed such a large chunk of socialization that even you didn't think you could do it. But once the night started, you didn't want to go back.

One night out became two, then three, four, five, and so on. The time you were home lessened and it didn't help that your friends were more than willing to let you take refuge at their homes. It wasn't like you were going crazy but the high that you got from drinking and even sometimes having flings became addicting and it felt satisfactory in the way you felt autonomy over your body once again.

You'd ignore the calls from your parents and family including your in-laws, especially any communication from your ex. You had ghosted the situation. The most emotionally taxing period of your life was now being forcefully ignored. You'd spend your time if not partying, then out clubbing. Even when you weren't out on benders, you'd stay up all night and indulge in the fact you were being taken care of by friends. And while you deeply appreciated their hospitality, it was also a double-edged sword. You had dropped out of college, you were no longer reliable and the flings and high feelings were no longer distracting you from the fact that you had some serious issues to deal with.

It got to a point where you'd lay in whoever's spare room and drown in thoughts about the situation you were in. A year before then, you had been stuck with your ex, and somehow a year and a half later you had no idea what that situation was like in that home.

Anxiety and suffocating emotions would swallow you often as the memories of your toxic and abusive ex would soon follow the baby girl you had given birth to. Niyuki. You'd remember her smile, the way she giggled, and how active she was. Although you had only spent about a few months or so with her, you'd remember her bright smile. You'd remember the way her eyes shone when she looked at new things or heard new words—how her face always lit up when she heard your voice, felt your presence, or saw your face. The emptiness without her would eat at you and it was time to forcefully welcome a new cycle of you falling into a depression once again.

At this point, you had lost your job, didn't have any urge to pick up any new hobbies or skills and you'd lay in bed all day. Going out until early mornings trying to ignore the fact that you weren't happy in your current state no longer worked anymore. It was a draining process to get back up but you were willing to give your life a go again. You started looking for jobs that hopefully had good pay and were willing to hire someone with this big of a time gap in their resume. While still couch hopping, you still had places to stay so fortunately you didn't need to worry about that.

When you eventually came around to wanting to be in Niyuki's life again, it was too late. Of course, when you had finally decided to start to better yourself and the suffocating feeling of postpartum had slowly dwindled over time, he was there to make sure that you couldn't take control back of your life. Your ex had found out why you had been gone for so long and eventually had things filed so that he would have sole custody. It seemed as though no matter what you did, he was always ten steps ahead of you. And this time you knew that your support from your family was even less than before.

He had swindled the courts and your families to the point that he painted you as a deadbeat and to the courts, it didn't seem as though there was any evidence to contradict that. Eventually, as you went through counseling and legal support were you able to at least gain visitation, an absence of early childhood not being any signs or indicators that you were unfit to see your own daughter.

It was humiliating settling back into your life and getting back up on your feet. Your parents demanded that you would stay with them as a reassurance that you were serious about getting your shit together and you didn't want to argue. Although with their calloused nature sometimes, they did take care of you well. You couldn't tell what they were thinking but they treated you as gently as they could. Even your family members would come and help out from time to time and it made your recovery better. As stated by the courts, as long as the grandparents (either your parents or in-laws) were there to supervise, a social worker, or the dreaded last option, your ex, was there you would be able to spend time with your daughter.

Months would pass and soon years would follow. When you had shown no signs of negligence or malice occurring in your visits, the judge allowed that you didn't need supervision. Your ex protested but it went unheard. Plus your willingness to get your life together showed your dedication so it was a blessing that you were able to get back to a somewhat decent and regular life despite what has happened. Of course the label that had been placed on you wasn't fully gone, but you were at least able to see your own daughter again.

Which is why you deeply cherish moments like this. After inspections at your apartment, the courts approved that your daughter has now been allowed to stay a few days at your place, and this weekend she was scheduled to stay with you. She would get dropped off by him on Thursdays after school, but you limited the talk to only what was important. Usually, on the first day you get her for the week, you do something with her that she's been wanting to do. As much as you wanted to do it right away, you did make sure her homework was done (she would do it at school just so she could spend more time with you though). Despite her determination, you would still check her work and teach her the things she got wrong much to her dismay. You'd make sure you're on time to drop her off to her evening classes and still wake up early to cook her breakfast every Friday morning. Then you'd drop her off and then pick her up at the end of the day seeing as she had no evening classes on weekends.

"We're here, we're here!" Niyuki cheered, the sweet but mischievous smile never leaving her face when around you.

"It's so pretty out! Wanna get some ice cream, Niyuki?"

"Yes, please!"

After you park your car you hop out and help her out of her seat, holding out your hand for her to take as she knows the routine already. Niyuki admires the familiar park although she has been to numerous times. The way she gazes at everything looks as though this is her first time seeing the place, and this kind of wonder behind her eyes isn't unique to this particular place. No matter how many times she has been somewhere or seen something, her eyes always shine with curiosity and wonder. You can't help but watch her with a faint smile, never wanting to forget what her face looks like ever again.

"Which ice cream do you want, Niyuki?" You ask once you two reach the truck, an assortment of colorful ice cream pictures is decorated on the side of the vehicle.

"Hmm…." Niyuki thoughtfully hums. She raises her free hand to comically tap on her chin as she thinks, the gesture urging a laugh from both you and the ice cream salesman. "Can I have the one with the," She leans closer and points to it, "SpongeBob with the bubblegum, please!"

You think to yourself as you settle for something that's to your tastes, relaying your order to him and searching for your wallet to pay for the cold, sweet treats.

You look over at the man and he nods before leaving to the back, "Coming right up."

In no time at all you two are grabbing ice cream and heading to the playscape. Today was a bit hotter than what you were both expecting so you made a challenge that whoever was able to eat their ice cream without being messy gets to go to bed late tonight. You knew you'd win but it was still amusing to challenge her as her bright spirit came along with a competitive one.

In the midst of you two finishing up your ice cream, a younger but familiar voice calls out to your daughter. You look around confused before spotting a younger girl running towards Niyuki and then engulfing her in a bear hug.

"Mizuki!" Your daughter squeals as they both tightly embrace, her popsicle long forgotten now.

"I didn't know you were coming to the park today!" Mizuki said as she pulled away, still holding onto her best friend. Their bond started from the mere fact that their names sounded similar.

"Yeah, my mommy brought me!" Niyuki pulls away to pull at your dress.

"My dad brought me as a surprise, so I guess it's okay we didn't know!"

The two of them were pretty endearing you couldn't lie. They had been to the same Pre-K together before attending elementary together.

So far you had only met her mother and she was pretty kind. You only knew so much about her though and to your knowledge, she is happily engaged at this point. You two would talk often when the two played, often sharing play dates when it was your turn to have Niyuki on the weekends. That's how Niyuki and Mizuki were able to twin, have sleepovers, etc. While having other friends at school, those two were joined at the hip.

That's why you were utterly confused to hear about her father.

You knew nothing about him except for the fact that he and Mizuki's mother mutually decided that things just weren't working out. It's not like she knew much about your ex either. It seemed as though the separation of parents helped bond the two kids, but you felt saddened at how completely different the two situations were. You sometimes worried if Niyuki was embarrassed by this knowing it wasn't always easy at school due to the teasing.

"Mizuki!" A deeper voice calls out to the young girl. With the young girl's name being called, she turns around and excitedly waves him over. You pause in your tracks as you take him in.

Ashy blonde hair that resembles an explosion sits at the top of his head smothered in appearance by his hat, while his eyes are also covered by a pair of what appeared to be designer sunglasses. He sported a relaxed fit, a gray tank top with a light mesh patterned throw-over that did nothing but tease the muscles underneath the cloth, the colors on it being black and white. The look is finished off with black baggy pants and some boots. You could tell he was attractive even without the cover-up. As you finish up the assessment of your daughter's friend's (hot) dad, it occurs to you the fact that he had sunglasses on doesn't hide the fact that you were totally just checking him out.

"Mizuki, I told you to stop running off like that." He grabs the young girl and gives her a playful nuggy.

"Sorry Daddy!" Mizuki giggles and slips away from him and runs to hide behind you instead, your daughter following. They both peek from behind you, and you have no other choice but to introduce yourself.

"Hi, you're Mizuki's dad, I'm guessing? I'm Y/N, Niyuki's mom." You smile warmly.

He nods at your assumption, his expression still the same as before. "Katsuki, it's great to finally meet the mother of this other troublemaker's friend." He playfully steps in Mizuki's direction and she immediately runs to your other side, giggling.

Something about him was eerily familiar. You couldn't place your finger on it, but you simply chalked it up to the fact you have probably seen him in passing at a few of their birthday parties or so. But something about that didn't feel right… Either way, you ignore it. It wasn't a bad feeling but the fact you couldn't place your finger on it would later down the road bug you. You decide to ask instead.

"Have I seen you—"

"Daddy, can we go to Niyuki's house to watch movies now?" Mizuki cuts you off in the middle of your question, undoubtedly earning a glare from her father.

"Mizuki, what'd I tell you about interrupting people when they talk?" Bakugo lifts his sunglasses this time, his gaze revealing he was solely looking at her.

She pouts using you as a shield once again before tugging on your clothes. "Sorry oba-san…" Mizuki says with one of the deadliest puppy faces you've ever seen. There was no doubt she was one of the cutest 6-year-olds you have ever seen. How could you be annoyed with a look like that?

"It's okay, Mizuki. What were you asking?" You ask them and turn better, bending down a bit to be at both of the girl's levels.

"Can we please watch movies in Niyuki's playroom? Pleeaaseeee?" Mizuki asks and your daughter steps up to beg as well.

"Please, Mommy!! We'll be good too!" Niyuki reasons.

"I'm not sure, ladies…" You trail off as you consider that maybe Katsuki himself probably planned out for the afternoon and didn't want to forcefully make him commit to an impromptu earlier playdate.

"It's alright." Katsuki pipes up and you three look back at him. He lightly shrugs and answers as if he could read your mind, "We were going to play it by ear for the rest of the day anyways."

The two children couldn't quite comprehend the second bit of what he said, but they did understand that it was a yes from what he said in the beginning. They gleefully look at you and start tugging and hugging at you.

"Please, Mommmyyy!" Niyuki pleads, now joining in on giving you a hard to disapprove of puppy look as well.

You lightly laugh and nod your head, finally pulling them in for a proper hug and then giving them a tickle to fend off their offensive stance. "Okay, okay! We can do the movie night! But I want you two to at least spend an hour or so here before agreeing to let you two be cooped up inside for the night."

"Okay!" They exclaim in unison. The moment they break free of your grasp is when they run to the playscape. You sigh as you stand up and give Katsuki a soft smile before properly sitting down on one of the benches. He's close second to following your lead, you both now watching as the two girls play with each other as well as other kids. It seemed most parents decided today was a great day to let their kids out. Mostly because it would tire them out for the night which was a plus.

"I wasn't expecting Niyuki's mother to be so beautiful," Katsuki randomly says, cutting the silence. You look at him with a surprised look on your face, a blush starting to rise on your complexion.

"I could say the same for Mizuki's father." You bashfully laugh and un-subconsciously move to adjust your clothes. Admittedly you were not as designer dressed as he was, nor were you in your best fit. One thing to notice other than his attractiveness is that he has impeccable style. Something that shocked you a little since men in their 20s (especially with kids) don't seem to care too much these days. It wouldn't shock you if he had some sort of unconventional job.

He turns to you when you respond, a teasing smirk now dawning on his face. You don't miss the look-over he gives you and you're sure that he wasn't trying to hide it either. "You know they'll be all tired before they reach halfway through the first movie…"

"That is true…" You play into his words as you look forward instead. You feel your heart start to race when he rests his arm on the back of the bench behind you. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the cloth and welcome it. The weather was too hot but his touch was something you were starting to get curious about. "I guess that'll just leave us two to relax then."

"I could help you with that, I'm a pro at saving people."

You hum at his words, "You're a chivalrous man, that's uncommon these days," a teasing smile to rival him now finds its way on your face. "What else are you good at, Katsuki?"

"I'm also really good with my hands." Katsuki humors you, his hand shifting near your shoulder where his arm lay. "Pretty strong too."

"Ah, so those muscles aren't just for show?" Feeling bold, you reach to rest your hand on his thigh, his muscles immediately flexing under your touch.

He leans in closer to whisper in your ear as he answers, his hand now resting lightly on your shoulder. "I gotta make sure I'm always in shape to save beautiful women like you."

A buzzing near your touch catches you off guard as you try to not completely fold at his words. A catchy ringtone soon follows the buzzing and it's now apparent that what you were feeling was his phone. He pulls away with a huff and pulls out his phone, excusing himself as he answers it.

You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding in as he leaves. You can't remember the last time you had talked to a male, much less flirted. Most of your days surrounded working and finishing up school as you wanted nothing but the best for your kid. You didn't go out often anymore, and if you did, you only stuck around with your friends. You couldn't complain but feeling so affected like this was starting to make you feel nervous, almost like when you had got back out into the dating world the first time. You tried not to think about those thoughts.

Now, you were back to watching the girls again and they seemed to be having a blast. The day's heat didn't phase them at all and they played to their heart's content. It seemed as though they were playing cops & robbers with the other kids, and honestly, you didn't care what they were doing as long as they were being safe. The good thing about the friendship between the two was that they always looked out for each other; never mind the fact that their circumstances brought them closer together.

Even with how hard you've been trying to do this mother thing, inescapable thoughts always plagued your mind. Mainly about the fact if your daughter truly wanted to stay with you. This whole arrangement of only getting to see your child three days a week has been going on for about a year and some change now. You know that it'd be too early for her to get "tired" of you, but you can't help the fear of her getting sick of you. One thing was for certain is that you definitely are not as well off as her father although you did make sure to pick up extra shifts when you wanted to get her something real nice.

However, your moment of contemplation comes to an end when two girls come barreling towards you, their approaching giggles making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Mommy!"

"Yes?" Your eyes refocus and you smile softly at the two girls, their wild energy showing how much they truly were out there on the playground having fun.

"Can we have some ice cream please!" Mizuki asks, tugging your arm.

"Please, please, please, PLEASEEE!" Niyuki begs.

You gape a bit overwhelmed at the two young energies, trying to reason with yourself as Niyuki had already gotten ice cream prior. You were sure her best friend did as you knew that both her parents loved to spoil her—even before you had an introduction to Katsuki. It was a hot day and you didn't seem to mind, you were getting pretty hot as well…

"... Okay, but that's the last before we head home! When you finish, that's enough park time."

Your answer is to their standards as they both shower you with affection to thank you for caving into their cuteness. You roll your eyes but the smile doesn’t disappear as you keep an eye on them as they wander to the truck.

"Sorry 'bout that," The new but familiar voice calls out as he walks up to you. "Important business and shit."

Your brows raise at the casual curse and laugh a little, folding your arms as you look up at him. "No problem, but I did tell them that we will be leaving as soon as they finish their ice cream." You inform, nodding your head towards their direction as you keep an eye out for them.

"Great timing, I was about to talk to you about that."

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

The two girls were happier than ever riding together back to your apartment. They sang along to their favorite songs, played I Spy, and talked about all sorts of things you expect from children. It's easier to tune them out when you're around them long enough.

Their excitement continued when you got to your home. As soon as you reached your unit the two beelined to the kitchen after dropping their shoes and bags at the door. And yes, you guessed it, they had matching pairs too. Niyuki knew to go to the kitchen first thing though as she knew you would make something in the meantime before the movie started.

"You two know the rules! Stay near the island to avoid getting bit by sharks!" You called out to them as you fixed up the entryway. You listen out to hear them, still hearing them squeal and toy around in there. You slip off your shoes, adding them to the rest of the shoes before lazily pulling on your house slippers. "The sharks are coming in five… four… three…!" Your warning does the trick as by the time you reach the kitchen they're both sitting in their respective seats and both looking mischievous and peeking at you behind their hands. You make a show of surveying the room as if you can't see where they are and the girls are now "safe" for following your directions. "It seems as though the sharks are clear!"

They celebrate the win, now eager to watch you work your magic.

You three had a fun time as you tried your best to make sure they were safe (the entire time you were internally panicking to make sure everything was okay). Niyuki liked watching you cook and you were more than happy to help her learn as well as do some hands-on stuff. It was only natural that her best friend would follow suit in her curiosity. Niyuki's sole enjoyment of watching you cook is what encourages you to do it more often and get better at it too.

Now there was an assortment of snacks aside from their main meal. It was true that you spoiled her a wee bit when she was with you, but you couldn't help it. Niyuki was your everything and when times were needed you were able to say no.

Once you set up their bowls with their food, the doorbell rings. You figured it was the man who would make another appearance for the night.

"Alright girls, bring your food to the room." You command and watch them leave before making it out into the hallway, finally answering the door when they are both in the designated room. "Katsuki!" You smile and open the door wider.

The blonde-haired male grins at you and holds up the childishly bright bags for Mizuki. "Sorry for taking so long. This should be everything." You nod and reach for it, his actions making you pause as he pulls it a bit towards him as if to hold it from you. "Is it alright if I see Mizuki before I leave?"

You feel your skin flush in embarrassment, hastily stepping to the side and opening the door more to let him in. "I-I am so sorry! Of course, you can," You close the door and lock it behind him when he finally steps in and gets his shoes off. He doesn't need much introduction when two heads pop out from the doorway of the playroom, one squealing in excitement as she runs up to her father to hug him.

"Daddy you're here!" Mizuki exclaims and pulls him in the direction of the room. "Come look at Niyuki's playroom!"

"I'm not sure--"

"No, no it's okay! Let me clean up the kitchen in the meantime." You smile as the three make their way to the room.

Sticking to your word, you waste no time cleaning up. You have a slight hum as you move around the kitchen, appreciating how well today has gone so far. You even met your daughter's best friend, hot dad… who would've thunk? You bite your lip to suppress a giggle that threatens to escape you, a giddy smile still on your face. Gosh, when was the last time you ever found someone attractive? It felt like forever since you've been focusing on parenting, school, and not to mention having a job.

You think about how well the man dressed and how good he smelled. You had to hand it to him, he was really put together and you could see why Mizuki's mother let him in the first place. He didn't seem too bad personality-wise either. Katsuki was the right amount of cheeky and arrogant that was the complete opposite of your ex. It didn't help that his well-defined muscles and physique showed with his great fashion taste. Luckily for you though, Katsuki felt the same way about you.

When he had first seen you, there was no mistaking in the way he immediately found you attractive. Dressed in your form-fitting sundress surely accentuates everything about your womanly body. The way the cloth hung to your mounds and all the beautiful parts of your limbs. But unlike you, he was able to hide how much he was checking you out. Except while indoors he no longer needed sunglasses and he was sure you were feeling the same way about him.

Katsuki's eyes are trained on your butt as you flawlessly move around, the color of your dress perfectly folding around the two globes of your ass as you move. He leans against the doorway once he finally looks up at the back of your head, crossing his arms. "Hey," Katsuki's voice calls out to you. You whip your head around to look at him, eyes enraptured with how attractive the young man is. "Sorry for the weird behavior earlier at the park…"

"It's okay! Really. Stuff comes up sometimes, glad that you were able to get it settled." You turn off the sink and dry your hands, turning to face him as you place the towel on the island in front of you. You don't miss the way his eyes drag down to check out your body.

"The girls will probably knock before they even finish halfway through the movie," Katsuki predicts, his eyes predatory when he looks up at you. "could make it up to you while they're busy."

You shy as you two make proper eye contact. "How could you possibly make it up to me?" You bat your lashes at him, a faint blush heating your skin at the implications of his offer.

An attractive grin spreads across his lips as he pushes off your doorway. "I could show you but it's better if we do it somewhere private."

It takes everything in you to hide the chill that runs up your spine at how he easily toyed with ideas without being so vulgar with it. As if your body is moving on its own, you walk towards him and flash a smile that has equal parts of mischief and seduction.

"I'm interested."

As soon as that door closes behind you two, there is no denying the tension that fills the room. His lips are soft and hot against yours and the feeling has your body tingling. His heavy and calloused hands are tight on your hips as he pulls you closer to his chest, your hands placing themselves on his biceps to try and steady yourself against him. Katsuki hums in satisfaction, tasting your sweet lip gloss on his mouth, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip to ask for more. You willingly comply and open your mouth although timid about the experience.

You were feeling fresh in the kitchen but now that you two were getting down to it, you were starting to feel shy again. Up until now, it had practically been years since you dated a man, much less kissed or hooked up with one. There was no denying that you were attracted to this man but your mind was starting to cloud with doubts that you wish would just go away. You try to ignore it erstwhile you feel his strong hands slip down to grab your rump through the beloved sundress you wore today.

You softly groan in the kiss as he pulls away, eyes with innocent determination to see this through. His eyes are hot on you and it takes everything in you not to look away. He walks you to your bed, instantly getting on top of you once he has you adjusted to his liking. In a hurry, you move to untie one of the straps on your shoulder, his heavy hand stopping you as he leans into your ear to convey his true thoughts

"'Gonna fuck you in this dress, princess," Katsuki smirks down at you when he pulls away and stands up properly. He tugs you towards the edge of the bed so that your legs hang off the edge, his hands on your hips. He leans down to give your lips a chaste kiss before spreading your legs and kneeling between them. Katsuki's hands softly grip your ankles, the tips of his fingers disappearing at the hem of your dress. His hands slowly drag the fabric up, his hot lips that were once on yours now kissing their way up on your left leg as took his time exposing his skin. "Keep looking at me, baby." Katsuki directs when you lose eye contact with him as he finally meets your inner thigh, his teeth giving the plush skin a teasing bite. You softly whimper, the apparent wet spot on your panties deepening.

He groans at your scent and slightly pulls away to look at your cunt, his hands now placed on the back of your thighs and pressing it to your body. He takes his knuckle to rub up against your labia, adding more pressure once he reaches the top of your cunt to play with your clit. You wantonly moan as he continues to rub at your clit, the fabric of your panties creating a friction that was heavenly but frustrating you greatly. You needed to feel his fingers on you and this wasn't cutting it.

"Katsuki," You breathe out, hips bucking into his handling. He simply hums at you calling out his name, his rubbing slowing down as his gaze now has a teasing glint to it. "N-Need more, please, Katsuki," There's a whimper in your voice, only barely hinting at the desperation that this man can stir inside you.

"More've what?" Katsuki grins at how flushed your expression is, your face dreamy as ever.

"Fingers, need them." You manage to prop yourself up on your elbow as the other reaches down to tug at the panties on your hip. Katsuki snickers at your impatience, his thumb pulling aside your panties to expose your soaked cunt to him. He gives you one last kiss on your inner thigh before he wordlessly dives in.

Katsuki applies his tongue flat against your cunt and gives you a long stripe up until it reaches your clit, just like what he had done with his knuckle moments ago. A breathless moan escapes your lips as he starts to swirl his tongue against the erect bud, his textured and wet muscle taking pride in its work. He closes his mouth around your cunt, leaning more to taste more of the slick that your cunny produces. The vibrations of him moaning from the taste makes you shiver, this feeling of having your cunt licked like this felt so familiar but foreign at the same time. His eyes stay glued to you as he pleasures you, finding everything you do so damn attractive to look at.

Lapping a bit more he pulls away and spits on your cunt using his fingers to lube you up more. He wraps one of his arms around your thigh and holds it to his shoulder, holding you in place as he finally inserts two thick fingers into your cunt. Soon enough, his mouth is back into your count, the tip of his tongue playing with the sensitive bud at the top of your pussy.

The sounds grow increasingly more obscene as he shamelessly laps at your cunt and works his fingers into you. His digits curl to find your g-spot, softly teasing the spot and eliciting more volume from you. You quickly try to hold back how loud you are, walls clenching around his fingers at how good it feels. You bite your lip and suppress a loud groan from slipping out, hips attempting to pull back with no use. Katsuki keeps you locked in close to him and ups the ante by using the tips of your fingers to continue to stroke at the sensitive spot of your g-spot. His tongue now applies more pressure to your clit to bring you further.

"'Suki--" You call out, your hand coming down to grip and tug at his hair. Shivers rack through your body as a long and drawn-out orgasm hits you, his movements aiding to help you bring you down from it. He pulls his fingers out and presses his tongue flat against your cunt to clean up the mess between your legs. You move your hips back in protest and he loosens his grip to let you do so.

You watch with bated breath as he starts to unbuckle his pants, your eyes glued to what is soon to be revealed. Katsuki's movements to get his garment removed are so fluid that you almost miss it when he pulls the condom out from his back pocket. He tears open the soft foil with his teeth and applies the slippery protection onto his hard cock. You instinctively open your legs when he draws closer, a soft mewl leaving your lips when he aligns his tip to your opening.

"You good?" Katsuki softly asks, his other hand holding your thigh open, thumb rubbing your thigh as he awaits your answer. You nod your head and grind your hips against his tip, hand coming up to pull him closer to you as you answer.

"Give it to me, Katsuki."

The man grins at your plea and lays you on your side, choosing to slowly sink himself into you from your approval. The obscene moan you let out gets covered up by Katsuki's lips finding itself upon yours again, happily taking in your willful noises. At first, he takes long and drawn thrusts, trying to accommodate his size for your comfort. This position allows no remorse and you already knew what you were in for when he put you in it. When you two separate from the kiss, his lips are quick to find your neck, his hands now respectively on your ass and thigh to hold you in place. Amid a deeper thrust, he gives an equally rough bite, the force making you moan. You relax your leg more to allow him to hold you better, him taking your actions as the go-ahead to pick finally pick up the pace.

You feel as though you are on cloud nine with his wet kisses and teasing bites covering your neck, his thrusts and handling furthering your ecstasy. His skin smacks against yours as he starts to get rougher with his thrusts, hands gripping you tighter too. You grip at the sheets below you and tilt your head back, mouth agape as you so desperately try to keep up with him. He gives your ass a spank when he feels your pussy clench around him, an animalistic growl coming from him as he repeats this. He pulls away from your half-covered chest and glares at the top of your dress, now getting annoyed at the article of clothing.

Katsuki doesn't slow his hips for a second as he more than easily rips open the top of your dress and earns a discontent whine from you that gets forgotten when he presses a bit deeper into your cunt. His lips press themselves to your newly exposed skin, his tongue happily taking in one of your nipples to suckle and nibble on. There's no mistaking that he's having free reign in the marks on your skin but you're too wrapped on how everything feels to care. An expletive leaves your mouth in a string of whispers when he angles his hips to hit your g-spot, prompting you to reach down and rub your clit for more stimulation.

"Fuck," Katsuki cusses under his breath as he leans up to watch you take his cock, nails digging into your skin and enjoying the way your pussy envelopes his cock. Not to mention the hot visual of you playing with yourself furthering his contentment. He lifts your leg a bit under your knee and quickens his pace. He watches with hungry eyes as your tits bounce at the force, a pretty face to match and his marks all over your body's skin. He groans as his thrusts start to feel heavier, his orgasm impending. He nearly loses it when you grind back against him to chase your release.

There was an air of innocence that surrounded you but everything you did said otherwise. Katsuki simply couldn't get enough of you and he simply didn't want to. Fuck, he wasn't expecting his daughter's best friend mom to be super hot and sweet.

"C-Cunming…!" You mewl, brows scrunch in concentration as you finish off on his cock. His swift thrusts help in coaxing it out of you, slick dripping from your cunt and messy-ing up your inner thighs. He swoops down to give you an open kiss, tongue pressed against yours haughtily as he follows your climax with his own after a few more pumps.

After a few lazy and exchanged kisses he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two. You laugh a little as you wipe the remnants away. "That's the best I've had in a long time." You jokingly cut the silence, a chuckle from him following.

"Could say the same." He softly grunts, pulling out from you, and gently places your legs down. He effortlessly picks you up and rests you further on the bed where your legs can find refuge on the plush mattress. "You okay, need me to get anything?"

The first question confuses you. To your recollection, you had never been asked that before. Not after sex when the deed has already been done and the willing participant has already had their fill. A pang of displaced emotions starts to wrack up inside you, a nervous laugh coming from you when you realize that you spaced out trying to conceptualize what you had just been innocently asked.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good! Thanks for asking," You smile sweetly and the cute expression earns a pat on the cheek from him. Shamelessly, the gesture shot a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

"You got a bathroom around here?"

Following Katsuki's departure leaves you in silence. There was a feeling of dissonance that you couldn't really place your finger on and the fact it was all coming together was undoubtedly giving you the worst post-nut clarity ever. You didn't regret having sex Katsuki, that wasn't the case, but how not sleazy he was certainly opened up your eyes. The male decency that you have been robbed of for so long was finally starting to settle and you didn't like the feeling one bit. Tears start to burn in your eyes and you desperately try to wipe them away the longer you sit in your thoughts.

Fortunately for you though, the doorbell sounds repeatedly which slowly brings you back to the present. Your once feelings of despair and disgust are now turning into annoyance. You take your time slinking out of your bed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and huff at how disheveled you looked. The dress that you've been dying to wear was now torn and stretched, the condition bringing a pout to your face.

You undress fully and grab one of your robes to cover yourself up with, the piece is a bit scandalous but covering you well. You quietly make your way down the hall to not wake up the two girls (if they were awake they definitely would've interrupted you and Katsuki) and finally make it to the door. You peer into the peephole and softly gasp at the person behind the door. The doorbell starts to buzz loudly again and you angrily fumble to unlock your door, it now also occurs to you that the noise could be disturbing the two young girls' sleep.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" You greet your ex with much-deserved hostility.

Shindo simply rolls his eyes at your annoyance and crosses his arms as if it were your fault for his impatience. "I called and texted you multiple times. I'm here to pick up Niyuki."

You openly scoff at his demand, standing taller at his attempt at showing his dominance. You mirror his actions and cross your arms too.

"She's staying with me for the weekend. Why are you here?"

Your ex mockingly scoffs at you questioning him, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer.

"I need to explain why I want my daughter to be with me? You know, the parent who never neglected her once in her entire life." Shindo looks you up and down, openly grimacing at how fucked out you look. "You can't even control yourself, you have no shame, do you?"

As much as you try to keep up the strong facade, there is no denying the tightening in your chest. You don't want to admit it but his words hurt you deeply. His toxic words were starting to feel all too familiar and your body was starting to shut down.

"The agreement was that she would stay the weekend with me. Niyuki's having a sleepover with her friend, there's no point of you coming here."

"Do you think I fucking care about a "sleepover" when her mother is busy being a tramp when she's distracted?" He shamelessly accuses and shifts his expression to one of fake pity and concern. "Do you think you deserve her, hm? I mean look at you, running around and can't even stay committed to us even when I've tried."

"Watch how you fuckin' talk to her, asshole."

A voice filled with just as much disdain comes from behind you, the sheer amount of aggression battling Shindo's. You immediately turn to look at him, mind moving faster than your body in your shocked state.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you exactly?" Shindo tilts his head and reaches out to push the door further to reveal who the man is. He freezes when a blonde and spiked hair catches his eyes first, his mockery of emotions from earlier now turning into real anger and a hint of fear. "Bakugo-?!"

Katsuki grabs the edge of the door and pulls it open wider to allow him more space to pass, making sure not to harm you as he gets between you and your toxic ex. "You wanna repeat that, dickhead?" He fists up his shirt and backs him away from the door. "Is that how a hero treats a woman, eh?"

Shindo curses under his breath, fighting against him. The mach attitudes between the two start to boil over as it's obvious that they have met prior. When it escalates to more than words, you start getting a bit fearful. A more aggressive push from Katsuki prompts you to call out for them to stop. One thing about your ex is that he hated being out matched and there was no denying that Katsuki seemed like the type of guy to beat that out of him. It wasn't until their exchange seemed to elevate in volume and another light next door turned on. You plead for them to stop again, your hand lightly tugging at Katsuki's arm although knowing your touch wouldn't be able to do shit against a muscled man like him. Eventually they do stop on Katsuki's accord, both breathing heavily as they stare down at each other. Your ex aggressively scoffs and shoves Katsuki away from him as he looks between you two, gathering himself.

"Have fun with the little gold digger, Dynamight," Shindo says lowly and bumps shoulders with Katsuki as he leaves.

A heavy silence is left in his wake between you and Katsuki. You tiredly rub your face and breathe out a sigh, the exhale soon turning into a dry sob. Katsuki fidgets awkwardly before reaching out to you and pulling you close, letting you rest your forehead on his chest.

"Fuck, he stresses me out," You mumble against his tank, wiping away your tears. "I'm sorry you had to witness that…"

"Hey, he's fuckin' douchebag, alright? Who gives a fuck what he thinks." Katsuki pills away a bit to cup your chin and forces you to look up at him, the gesture warming your cheeks. "Let's get you cleaned up and you can rant about whatever the fuck you want, it's getting cold." He holds the collar of your robe and gives it a playful tug. You softly nod your head then lead him inside.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had only been two days since you had first met and slept with Katsuki and the smile on your face never seemed to disappear.

Thinking about the man easily brought butterflies to your chest, memories of you two keeping you on cloud nine. After you two had gone back inside Friday night, he had comforted you in many ways. It felt silly to say it—that the foreign feeling you were getting in your chest only had one name: a crush. Not full-blown but enough that every time you thought about your Friday night—past the awful interaction with your ex-boyfriend—was one of the best times you have ever enjoyed yourself with a man.

Katsuki did listen to you. He cleaned you up, cuddled you, kissed you throughout, and eventually you two even two more rounds. Never had you felt so comfortable, so… domestic. It was evident that your bright attitude was something your daughter noticed too.

"Mommy?" Niyuki calls out from the doorway, successfully gaining your attention.

You press the small bento box you were prepping Mizuki to take home closed, a smile on your face as you welcome your daughter to make her way to you. "What's up, munchkin?"

"I have to tell you something," She tugs at your pajama pants, a look far from playful or childish in her eyes. You feel your heart sink a bit at how serious she is, bending down to get face level with her.

"Niyuki? What's wrong?" You hold her arms and pull her closer to you, trying to keep contact with her as she avoids looking at you.

"I don't want to go to Pa's this week, I want to stay with you."

You're taken back from her confession, unsure of how to process it. "What do you mean, 'Yuki? Don't you want to see daddy-?"

"No, I want to stay with you," Niyuki regains her courage to look up at you, establishing how much she truly feels. "I heard you guys last night. I want to stay with you more. Daddy's house isn't nice, I don't like it there anymore."

"Niyuki, I…" You shamefully look away at the fact she bore witness to that awful exchange last night. You felt awful that she had seen it, much less found out how dysfunctional your relationship is. You pull her in for a hug and nuzzle her hair and she is more than willing to take in your embrace. "I am so sorry you had to see that, baby. Mommy will see what she can do about how you feel being at Daddy's house, okay?" You hold her cheeks in your palms and she nods her head in agreement.

She places a kiss on your cheek and swiftly leaves the kitchen as if the exchange didn't happen, leaving you by yourself in the kitchen. You stare off into the distance at the exchange, not sure what to think or do with yourself. It wasn't until you felt a wet sensation coating your cheeks that you realized you were crying.

Faintly down the hall, you could hear Niyuki nagging at her best friend and the two giggling and playing around as children do. You sit down on the floor and rest against one of the cupboards as your doubts start to ease themselves, everything in your life turning around so fast that it's hard to grasp.

You had thought for the longest time that Niyuki was simply putting up with you. It is no lie Shindo has more resources than you. The money, house, toys, etc. he has everything you don't. He didn't need to work the extra shifts to make sure she had presents for special occasions, he could easily buy the things she needed and wanted. You thought the only things that could make a child satisfied were the things they could see, touch, and have. You didn't think the small things counted, not when you're an adult where a random Friday could have easily been one of her favorite days in her childhood.

You don't bother wiping the tears from your face as you try to pull yourself together, snot and everything clouding your nasal passage. Oddly you felt numb, like the joy you were feeling was foreign. Nothing felt real but you knew you couldn't stay sitting on your kitchen floor silently crying as you desperately tried to register what the hell your body was going through at the moment. You weakly pull yourself up using the counter to grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the counter and obnoxiously blow your nose into it. You mumble a few cuss words under your breath as you attempt to freshen up as you try coming down from the emotional rollercoaster of this weekend. As much as you wanted time to process this, doing it in a home with a kid who could barge in at any minute was hard. Especially when there are two.

The doorbell rings and you glance at the time on the stove. It was a bit early for Mizuki's mother to pick her up, but you decided you'd just invite her in until the child was ready to leave.

You lazily walk over to the door and peer into the peephole to double-check, your face twisting into an expression of shock as you pull open the door and wordlessly confront the person on the other side.

"... Do you normally answer the door looking a mess?" Katsuki teases, giving you a look over and lingering at the places he seems to like.

You jokingly nudge him and roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stand a bit taller, feeling your heartbeat pound against your chest. "Haha, very funny." You sniffle and wipe your cheek, the gesture not going unnoticed.

"Did something happen? Did that prick come over and harass you again?" Katsuki grows angrier at the idea, his expression souring.

"No, no, it wasn't that." You quickly ease his concerns and this time remind yourself to look around to make sure there aren't any extra ears before stepping out and closing the door behind you. "This morning, Niyuki told me she wants to stay with me, not just on the weekends." You look up at him finally, your lips immediately curling into a soft smile once you're able to say it out loud.

He grins and pulls you in for a hug, giving you a squeeze when you wrap your arms around his shoulder and squeal. He rocks you back and forth before pulling away while maintaining his hold on your waist. "This shit feels unreal, you know?" You lightly laugh as you look up at him, a radiant smile on your face.

"Her mother is amazing, of course she'd want to stay with you." Katsuki gives your hip a squeeze with his free hand, the action pulling your attention to the solid object digging into your side, the feeling making you look down at his hand.

"Oh," Katsuki steps back and holds up a slim, medium box that had a ribbon tied around it, holding it up for you. "Here."

"For me?"

"Who else, dumbass?"

You snort at his bluntness and shoot him a playful glare as you open the gift. It takes you a few seconds to realize what it is, a gasp following your surprise at the expensive dress, and start to close it back up. "Oh my god, I-I can't have this!"

"Why not? You'll look perfect in it." Katsuki pulls you closer with his hand that was still on your hip, his other landing on your abandoned one. "Pretty girls deserve pretty things."

You playfully push him away and look at the box again before looking up at him. "Seriously, for me?"

"Yes." Katsuki holds your chin up and softly rubs your bottom lip under the pad of his thumb. "And you better get used to it, I'll be buying you a lot of those."

"Why?" You laugh, leaning into him and tilting your head up to challenge him.

"'Cuz I'll be tearing a lot more stuff off of that pretty body of yours," He leans closer to brush his lips against yours with a smirk on his face, "Plus, I need an excuse to see you again."

He seals his promise with a kiss, hands coming up to hold your waist as he presses himself against you.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had been a few months since you and Katsuki had officially started dating. Your mood significantly has changed for the better and made it a lot easier to adjust to having your daughter now finally staying with you instead of her father.

It was hard being able to advocate for yourself but the verdict was in favor since the child should be able to choose where to stay. It did help the fact that your new boyfriend, who you had learned and realized is a top pro-hero in the country, just so happened to bring the best kind of reputation to the courts.

As adults do, you did talk to Mizuki's mother before deciding to fully go through with dating the man. Ultimately it is true that she can't decide what you two do, but you owed it to her for being such a good friend to you and didn't want to step over any toes. She was more than happy to give her blessing and practically threw him over to you, more than happy to let things rest since she is soon to be married anyway.

There was nothing that could prepare you for this turn of events and every day it was easier to wake up feeling happy and blessed. Currently, you just got your culinary degree so that also means one less stress and burden off of your shoulders and another venture soon on the horizon: a head chef.

You just adjusted your graduation gown and looked around for your family, your face immediately lighting up seeing them not too far from where the graduates are exiting. It took almost everything in you not to run in excitement when you were finally able to make it towards them.

"Congratulations, honey!" Your parents are first to engulf you in a hug, the rest of the group close behind. You chuckle as two smaller bodies take your legs, none other than Niyuki and Mizuki claiming each side.

"Congratulations, Mommy!" Niyuki grins up at you.

"Thank you, Niyuki." You lean down to kiss her on the forehead and do the same for Mizuki.

"Do I get a kiss too?"

You look up at the inquisitor, a grin sprouting out on your face as you stand back up. "Of course."

He pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the action getting a mix of responses to the show of affection. Katsuki presents to you a beautifully arranged bouquet along with a promise that there were a lot more gifts back at his place.

Most days in the past you prayed for times like this, but now you were happy you didn't have to anymore.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[mrs-stans]

Inside Sebastian Stan’s Winning Look at the Golden Globes 2025

With help from Frank Sinatra and hopes of a postshow burger, the Prada- and Cartier-clad Stan prepared for his first major awards show victory.

BY SAVANNAH WALSH

Sebastian Stan entered the Golden Globes 2025 with two chances at winning—nominated for both his portrayal of Donald Trump in The Apprenticeand his more comedic performance as Edward, an aspiring actor living with neurofibromatosis, in A Different Man. But in the lead-up to his big night, Stan was eager to put his double nominations into perspective, instead focusing on what he could control: a hearty postceremony meal. “You always read about people having burgers or somethingafter these award shows,” he told Vanity Fair.“I mean, that sounds kind of nice, to be honest.”

A celebratory nosh was well-earned by Stan, who won best actor in a musical-or-comedy film, his first-ever Golden Globe. After thanking A Different Man filmmaker Aaron Schimberg and his costar Adam Pearson,who has the genetic condition neurofibromatosis in real life, Stan advocated for more inclusive narratives onscreen. “Our ignorance and discomfort around disability and disfigurement has to end now,” he said. “We have to normalize it and continue to expose ourselves [and our children] to it. Encourage acceptance.”

A Different Man languished for two years before it debuted at the Sundance Film Festival, and the A24 movie later landed Stan the Silver Bear for best lead performance in Berlin. But The Apprentice, directed by Ali Abbasi and written by Vanity Fair special correspondent Gabriel Sherman, also endured a beleaguered road to distribution in the weeks before the 2024 presidential election. “Both of these films started out as major risks,” Stan told VF shortly before the Globes. As such, he’s not taking any of the recent accolades for granted.

“I feel very blessed that I have good people around me, friends who I’ve had for 20 years at this point, who remember as much as I do what it was like to be in New York City and going out to auditions and not getting it,” said Stan. “Even my mother, who has been with me over the holidays, I was growing up with her in Vienna, Austria, and not even really knowing that I was going to get to America. So when I think about those moments,” he continued, “I’m immediately humbled and on the ground. Because even as it is currently, without anything happening on Sunday, it already feels like such a win.” Stan dedicated the award to his mother and stepfather during his acceptance speech, also taking the time to profess his love to his girlfriend, actor Annabelle Wallis.

Stan spent hours in prosthetics for both A Different Man and The Apprentice, getting comfortable with a bit of metamorphosis. “I kind of liken it, for better or worse, to being in a relationship,” he said of transitioning back to himself postproduction. “I always remember somebody telling me, ‘However long you’ve been with somebody in a relationship, take away half the time, and that’s how long it’s going to take for you to get over them when you break up.’ It’s a little bit like that. It doesn’t just go away suddenly, I guess. There’s a process…that happens with it. It’s sort of a slow, gradual disconnection.”

But does Stan find it harder to disappear into a character or present as himself at an awards show? “That’s a very good question,” he said with a laugh. “Sometimes it’s easier transforming into a role…. Being yourself at an award show, it can be quite tricky, because I’m not going to an award show [thinking], Oh, I’m a funny, interesting guy. I’m feeling self-conscious.”

Nevertheless, Stan was excited to venture beyond his comfort zone in custom Prada. “It’s really fun and different, and it’s something I’ve never really worn before,” he said, crediting stylist Michael Fisher with steering him toward a different era in Hollywood. “You get romantic sometimes when you see clips in black and white of the Oscars and how people dressed up. So I think I’m more old school like that in my mindset rather than, Hey, let me take a crazy swing on this red carpet. Even though, once in a while, Michael has definitely had me in pink.” This time, though, Stan opted for a black mohair coat and trouser with contrasting white piping detail, paired with a black knit wool sweater and white poplin shirt, plus black brushed-leather lace-ups.

The “timeless and classic” vibe continued with Cartier accessories, including a [Sur]naturel transformable brooch made of 18k white gold, diamonds, and black lacquer, as well as a 1968 CartierCollection wristwatch made of 18k yellow gold, sapphire cabochon, and leather. This collaboration marked a full-circle moment for Stan, who fondly remembers wearing Cartier at May’s Cannes Film Festival, where The Apprentice premiered.

Stan’s vintage-Hollywood vision also extended to his pre-Globes playlist. “I don’t mind a little Frank Sinatra,” he told VF. “We’re going to be getting ready at the Hotel Bel-Air, and that hotel itself has such history and that Old Hollywood classic style. I might be playing some ’20s or ’30s music, something that will at least keep me under the illusion that I’m in a different time, because it does feel like a different time.”

As for grooming, Stan said that with age, he’s embraced more facial hair. “I used to be more clean-shaven when I was younger, but it also depends on what I’m working on at the time,” he said. “A lot of how I was looking this year was informed by the fact that I was shooting Thunderbolts, so there was not much I could do. Even with the hair, I don’t always want everything to be perfect or slick. Maybe that just reflects my attitude in terms of staying flexible in the moment with these things—to go, All right, keep it loose and keep it fun.”

Stan never dreamed that A Different Man and The Apprentice would debut in the same year, but they have been in conversation with each other this awards season by virtue of his involvement. “Both films, to me, are about the loss of identity and the loss of self, and to some extent denial of reality and denial of self-acceptance,” said the actor. “Both of the films focus in different ways on characters that go to great lengths to abandon their true selves.”

Stan’s searching, self-conscious characters in the two films meet ego-driven fates. Edward is “obsessed with what he doesn’t have, and then he spends the rest of the film trying to deal with the shame that he’s buried, the shame that he’s never really accepted himself,” said Stan. “Then the Trump story is very obvious to me—it’s a total loss of humanity, empathy and vulnerability, and any morals, sort of at the hands of this very self-indulgent, self-narcissistic way of life. It’s also about how far one can go to deny the truth, deny reality, and lose humanity as a cost.”

Stan’s performance in The Apprentice, which was bested by Adrien Brody’s in The Brutalistfor best male actor in a drama film, has faced a particular uphill battle given the utter Trump fatigue in many circles. “Trump is part of our lives. It’s inevitable that we’re talking about him. You go to a coffee shop, and someone’s talking about him; you open your phone, the news, whatever—he’s everywhere, even in the award season,” says Stan, who believes his film will stand the test of time for boldly “challenging, or at least the attempt was to challenge, history as it’s happening rather than waiting.”

With Trump’s second election to the presidency, it feels as if perception of The Apprentice has shifted, as evidenced by its awards season embrace so far. (Stan is also nominated at the upcoming Independent Spirit Awards.) Would that be the case had Trump been defeated? “I don’t know if I know the answer yet to that,” said Stan. “We’re all still trying to figure out how to feel, or to think, about the election and what happened and the next four years.”

In the days before his first Golden Globe victory, which involved a lively backstage reunion with his frequent Marvel costar Anthony Mackie, Stan was similarly open-minded about what’s next. “[In] Eastern Europe, we grow up with a lot of superstitions,” he said. “But this year I just basically surrendered to whatever’s going to happen. Wherever this wild sort of ride I’m on is taking me, I’m just going to kind of follow and really try to be in the moment as much as possible.”

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionate and Deeply

~Chapter One~

Y'all might actually hate me for this chapter, but you can let me know what you think.

Just a gentle reminder that this story will eventually become 18+. MDNI please.

If you didn't read the prologue, it's here. Enjoy!

A few days passed, and it was now the end of February. I haven’t seen Ford for a whole week since we met. According to Susan, I just missed him the other day.

I wonder… was he looking for me?

No, it couldn’t be. No one sought after me.

He’s probably busy anyway with his paranormal investigations. He doesn’t have time to think about lil ol’ me.

Nevertheless, he did give me his address and said to stop by whenever I wanted to talk about the paranormal.

I was finished with my work for the day, and we only had like one more hour of sunlight before it was total darkness, so I decided to go visit him. I mean, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.

I got all bundled up before heading out the door. As I locked the door, I noted that the icicles around my home appeared to be… moving?

I shook my head and looked at the icicles again, but they were completely still.

Sheesh, I think I’ve been working too long. Now I think the icicles are moving.

Maybe getting out of the house will do me some good.

Thankfully, his home wasn’t too far from mine. But… I did start seeing weird signs shaped as arrows that said, “To the Mystery Shack,” and “Amazing!” as well as “Enter!”

Where did he live, exactly? And why were there so many bizarre signs leading to his home?

By the time I got there, there was a young man sitting on the porch of the home, talking with…

Ford!

He was fully bundled up with a maroon jacket lined with faux fur, and dark jeans with dark brown winter boots.

“There you are, Ford!” I called him, rushing over.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Uh… what? Do I know you, kid?” He asked in a raspy voice.

Oh no! I wonder if he caught a cold? Although, it sounds like he’d been smoking for a while to have that kind of voice. I didn’t notice it during our time at the diner.

“Come on, Ford! It’s me!” I told him my name again. “Don’t tell me you forgot me already!”

“Kid, listen! I told you I don’t know who you are! Now leave us alone and get outta here!” He said in an even rougher tone, and he turned his back to me.

I sighed sadly. I guess he really doesn’t remember…

“Wait a sec, girl dude! Mr. Pines, why are you being so mean to the nice lady? She’s just looking for your brother,” the man on the porch spoke. He wore a dark green jacket, grey sweatpants and black winter boots.

“What…? Brother?” I asked. This man looked identical to Ford!

Twins…?

The man sighed and turned around. “I’m not Ford. My brainiac brother is inside. I’m Stanley Pines, but you can call me Stan,” he introduced.

“And I’m Soos, Mr. Mystery himself! I, along with my wife and grandma, live here with Mr. Pines and his twin brother,” Soos introduced.

I smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Soos… and Stan.”

“You too, girl dude!”

The door then opened, revealing a young woman who appeared to be the same age as me, but she was heavily pregnant. She wore a long sleeved lavender dress that fell to her feet, and white fluffy slippers. She had light brown wavy hair that was pulled up in a ponytail, hazelnut brown eyes, and tan skin.

“Soos? Mr. Pines? Dinner’s ready!” She told them.

“Finally! Thanks Mel,” Stan said, leaving the three of us.

Well at least I found people in my age range. The woman, who I assume is Mel, turned to me. “Oh, hello! Soos, who’s this?”

Soos introduced me to her. “And this is Melody Ramirez, my lovely wife, and soon-to-be mother of my child,” he said.

I smiled. I could feel the love radiating from his words about his wife. He truly loves her.

“Nice to meet you, Melody,” I said.

“You as well,” she said. “Hey! Why don’t you come in for dinner? We’re having meatloaf tonight!”

“Oh… I wouldn’t want to impose…” I trailed off.

“Hey, don’t worry about Mr. Pines,” Soos said my name. “He’s a little rough at first, but he’s one of a kind. Plus, his twin brother is here, which is who you really wanted to see, right?”

I nodded. “Yes…”

“So come in! I’d hate for you to be left out in the cold,” Melody told me.

I smiled and nodded as Soos went in, and I went in after him, instantly feeling much warmer. I took my shoes off, and once I finished, Melody and Soos gave me a strange look.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This isn’t a shoe free home. You can keep your shoes on,” Melody told me as Soos went to the table.

I shrugged. “Mine is. I suppose old habits die hard.”

“As long as you’re comfortable. Come on, let’s get you some food,” she said, guiding me to the dining table.

An elderly woman, who I assume is Soos’ grandmother, happily dished out food, and I saw Stan and Ford side by side, seemingly bickering. Soos was at the head of the table and started eating the food in front of him.

There was meatloaf, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, kale, broccoli and asparagus. There was a large pitcher in the middle that was steaming.

This truly looks like a feast.

As I approached the table with Melody, I heard what the bickering between Ford and his brother was about.

“But you told me I ought to make some more friends! I finally made another one and you’re irate over it?!” Ford said incredulously.

“Poindexter, I said find a friend, not someone you can fuck around with,” Stan said.

Ugh, he’s one of those guys.

“Ay! Language!” The grandmother scolded Stan. “Not in front of mi bisnieto!”

“Sorry toots,” he told her before turning to Ford. “But I’m serious, Poindexter. If-“

“Um, Mr. Pines-“

Stan cut Soos off. “Not now, Soos! I’m tryin’ to-“

Soos cut Stan off. “But Mr. Pines, she’s right here!” Soos cried.

Both Ford and Stan looked at Melody and myself, and went wide eyed.

“Well… shit,” Stan said.

“Stanley Pines!” Abuelita scolded him.

“Sorry! Sweet Moses…”

Melody turned to me and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about this. It’s normally not this noisy. Or rude,” she told me apologetically.

I shook my head. “No harm done,” I told her.

Melody sat down next to her husband, and Abuelita begrudgingly took a seat next to Stan. Seeing four empty seats, I took the one next to Melody. I wonder why there’s so many?

Actually, Ford did say his niece and nephew visited, so maybe it was for them.

Melody and I dished out for ourselves, and we began eating, along with the rest of the family.

“I just wanted to thank you for inviting me into your home,” I told them.

“Anytime, cariño. It’s nice to see that my granddaughter-in-law has a friend who she can share things with,” Abuelita told me.

Aww, she’s so kind. She reminds me of my own grandmother. I miss her…

“Actually Abuelita, she’s a friend of Ford,” Melody corrected her. “Although I wouldn’t mind being friends.”

“It would be nice to have a girlfriend here, I agree,” I told her.

“Oh? Wow, you must really like her to invite her here Mr. Stanford. Never invite anyone to our home, except that hillbilly man,” Abuelita remarked as she continued eating.

Ford doesn’t appear to trust people. I guess that’s one thing we have in common.

Except that hillbilly man she spoke of. I wonder who he is.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Why, yes. I believe that she would make a great co- I mean female friend,” he replied.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful!”

“So,” Soos said my name in between bites of his food. “What brings you to our wonderful town?”

I smiled. “I’m here for work,” I told him.

“Yeah, what kinda work you do?” Stan asked.

“Stanley, it’s ’what kind of work do you do?’” Ford corrected him.

“Poindexter I swear if you start with that grammar shi-“ Stan cut himself off when he noticed Abuelita was glaring at him. “I mean that grammar thing, we’re gonna have some problems!”

Ford rolled his eyes as I told everyone what I did for work.

“Oh, so you can travel and still maintain the same kind of work? That’s cool!” Melody said.

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Listen, let me cut to the chase,” Stan told me. “How long ago did you meet my brother?”

“About a week ago,” I said.

Stan turned to his brother. “Normally I’d be happy for you, Sixer, but I don’t like this,” he told his brother.

“Stanley, why is-“

I drowned out their bickering and quickly finished my food. I thanked Melody, Soos and Abuelita for having me, and Melody went to see me off.

“I’m sorry about that again. You’re always welcome back here… with or without those two.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, Melody. I hope to speak with you further at a later time.”

“Me too. I hope this doesn’t taint your experience of Gravity Falls. It’s a wonderful town, I promise,” she told me as I donned my winter boots again.

“Thank you, Melody. Have a good night. Rest well,” I told her.

“Thanks! See you around,” Melody told me as she waved.

I waved back as I stepped outside, and began trekking home. The wind was cold and bit at the exposing skin on my face.

I knew I should have brought a face cover.

“Wait!” I heard a familiar voice call my name.

I turned around to see Ford running up to me. He caught up to me and gave me an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry for what my brother said about you. He should have never said those demeaning words to describe you,” he told me.

I shook my head. “It was coming from a place of concern, so I understand,” I told him as we kept walking to my home. “I mean… I’d be a little surprised if he was on board with our budding friendship. Honestly… I’m surprised I’m not too young for you.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Why would that be a problem?” Ford asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. You hear stories about young people like me taking advantage of older people? I think that’s what your brother is afraid of…”

“I’m sure you’re very smart dear, but I am rather intelligent. I would know if you were trying to take advantage of me,” Ford told me.

I gave him a half smile. “That’s the thing, Ford,” I told him. “You can be as smart as Einstein, Newton and Tesla combined, but emotions can cloud your judgement no matter how smart or how dull you are. Maybe… maybe your brother is right. Maybe we shouldn’t pursue this friendship…”

We arrived at my house, and he turned to me. “Is that what you want?” Stanford asked. “Please, look me in the eye and tell me that this is what you want.”

I looked at him, and… I can’t tell him that.

Maybe it’s because I’ve gone without having any close friends for so long, but… I really, really don’t want our budding friendship to end. It’s been so long since I had a friendship that I actually felt good about.

“I-“ I cut myself off.

The chime of the icicles interrupted me. I looked away from him as I saw the icicles come to life. And… I wasn’t going crazy! They really are mice!

“Ahh!” I cried, startled that the icicles turned into mice. We both heard a beeping coming from him. Ford turned around and looked at what I saw, and he breathed a sigh of relief, his breath manifesting in a small bit of mist escaping his mouth.

I looked at him in confusion. How the hell was he not freaking out?

“Well, I finally found it. The anomaly we were looking for,” Ford said, taking out a tablet and taking a picture of the ice-made mice.

What… the hell?

I was absolutely dumbfounded. Was this a part of his paranormal investigations?

“Is that… what?” I said in shock.

This was the first time I heard him genuinely laugh. It was… it was pleasing to hear.

“I’m sorry they gave you a fright. These little guys were what I was looking for,” Ford told me, softly caressing one of them with his index finger. These little icicle mice were rather… affectionate? It rubbed its tiny head against his finger.

“So this is what you do,” I said. “You never answered me in terms of what you did, after all.”

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Ah, that is true. I suppose I do owe you.”

I looked at him expectantly, and he turned a little pink. I looked away in order for him to feel more comfortable. I have been told that my gaze is a little jarring.

“In short, you were right to say that I am a paranormal investigator,” he told me. “I am also a scientist and adventurer.”

I smiled. “Ha! I knew it!” I said, watching the little icicle mice curl up with each other to create one large icicle.

It’s so interesting how… they even exist.

“I just hope… the experience with my brother doesn’t dissuade you from coming to see me again,” he told me. “I meant it when I said you could come and see me whenever you wanted to talk about paranormal topics.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you, Ford.”

He gave me a kind smile in return. My smile dropped, and he gave me a concerned look, almost as if to ask me what was wrong.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your brother when we were in the diner?” I asked.

Ford sighed. “To be frank… I try not to talk about him. Not because I’m ashamed of my brother, but…”

I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Well, perhaps I can tell you at a different time.”

I nodded. “Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

“While I have you here…” Ford trailed off. “Why did you give me the exact change of the bill? Even after you went on that tirade about needing me to be a gentleman?”

I raised an eyebrow. “It most definitely was not a tirade! I said one sentence!” I retorted. “But, with that being said… I would be comfortable telling you that at a different time.”

Ford nodded. “I see. Perhaps instead of you dropping by unannounced, we set a date for when we can speak about our favorite topic,” he told me with a smile.

I gave him a small smile. “At long last, a solution!” I said playfully.

Ford chuckled. “Friday almost always seems to be a good day for spending time with others, if my people watching is anything to go by.”

I chuckled. “This Friday it is,” I told him. “I didn’t realize you were such a stalker, Ford~”

Ford blushed when I said this, and scratched the back of his head.

Mbjr mbjr mbjr mbjr

Zopa zopa zopa

Why the hell do I always do that? I always make people uncomfortable and put my foot in my mouth! This is why I can’t keep any friends! Now this nice man doesn’t even want to meet up anymore.

Thankfully, he did crack a smile and chuckled, which relieved some of my anxiety.

“Goodnight,” he said my name. “Rest well.”

“Goodnight, Ford. You too,” I told him. I waved to him as I went inside and closed my door, and it wasn’t until then that he started walking back to his home.

Also, what the hell was he talking about when he said that house was eerily quiet? That was a lively home!

Whatever. I’ll bust his chops about it later.

For now, I sleep.

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Next part is here!

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

So.

this apparently is Lucanis' Room

AND THEY PUT HIM IN THE PANTRY?????

Like, we know the man is a good cook and he is supposed to be "Italian- inspired"(that "Della Morte" in his last name ain't fooling anyone lol), but this is taking the whole "living for the good food" to a WHOLE OTHER LEVEL.

BUT I STAN NEVERTHELESS.

Now, tell me where he keeps the tiramisú!

[darklinaforever]

So to everyone who acts like Blood and Cheese is being blamed on Alicole.

No.

Not really.

The thing they're accused of is being hypocrites, because they're basically doing everything they already accused Rhaenyra of doing. That is to say having consensual sexual relations for pleasure and outside of marriage.

But !

On the other hand, it is true that we can still blame Alicole a little for Blood and Cheese in a certain way.

Do you remember when some green stans said that Daemyra should have watched their children in episode 7 instead of going off to have sex ?

When as we have already pointed out, certainly Daemyra sleeping together was not maybe not super correct, but there is still the context where Daemon had left his daughters in the care of Rhaenys, and Rhaenyra sent her sons to bed and therefore these children were normally under the supervision of fucking guards who... just didn't do their job ?

We are in a feudal universe. Parents in this period are not like our modern parents to always monitor us, they often charge people to do it (even if we can agree that Daemyra are quite different on this subject, but that it's for another post, nevertheless they still belong to this feudal context and can still act according to it, what they did this time for their children).

So in itself yes, Daemyra should have watched their children, but Alicent too, and no one in the TG blames her for what happened to Aemond, but above all it is the guards who did not do their damned work.

And it’s the same for Blood and Cheese !

What the hell is security doing in this castle ?!

And oh... who are among the guards supposed to protect members of the royal family ? Wait... I have it on the tip of my tongue... Ah yes ! Criston Cole !

Who instead of doing his job as protector actually fuck Alicent.

So yes... I think the reflection in relation to Criston Cole in particular on Blood and Cheese is valid.

And Alicent was still consciously fucking the one who should normally ensure their safety.

So yeah, it's worse than Daemyra getting laid at the funeral.

Especially since Alicole THEY were surprised by the person who suffered trauma ! HELAENA !

The number of times I've heard TG complain about the possibility of shock if Daemon's daughters had known what their father was doing when it didn't happen ! So there is no trauma to dissect !

They loved making Daemyra sleeping together in episode 7 morally worse to a crazy level. And on the other hand, I don't think they will do the same thing for Alicole who is in a worse situation than Daemyra.

Criston Cole is a guard charged with protecting the royal family.

Instead he fucks Alicent.

And Alicent lets him fuck her when he normally has a job to do.

So they fuck, a child actually dies here (not a mutilation, I repeat, but a death) and Helaena, who has just suffered the death of her son, surprises the man who was supposed to protect her in bed with her mother !

[spacerockfloater]

Hi, I just wanted to say that I wholeheartedly agree with your recent post. It really bothers me how the fandom, especially those who are supposed to be green fans, are turning on Aemond. Don't get me wrong, I loathe the way they handled his character this season, but it's really interesting how for the last two years we had to listen Aegon stans complain about him being ruined by bad writing. Yet, they never turned on him. He was just the writers' victim, according to them (which isn't untrue). However, those same people (you saw it in the replies) are unwilling to extend the same courtesy to Aemond when he's being treated even worse by the writers for the whole f**king season, all that without having a decent amount of screentime or an actual POV (unlike Aegon who actually got a much better material this season). I guess these fans only "liked" Aemond while he was what Aegon thought of him, "a loyal hound he could set against his foes and who knows his place". Double standards much? Let's get this straight, I hate what they did with RR and Aemond burning Aegon is another dirty trick of the writers in order to divide the green fandom. Apparently, TG fans are unfortunately eating it all up. Nevertheless, it's not the reason the greens are in a bad situation because we saw that Aegon and Sunfyre wouldn't be of much help in battle anyway. Sunfyre could go against dragons like Vermax and Moondancer, but that's it. And Aegon is not a great warrior or a leader. Therefore, just like you said, Aemond can't fight alone so him asking Helaena to join with her big ass dragon isn't unreasonable. Yes, she isn't violent and doesn't want to burn anyone, but nether is Rhaena and I can bet she'll get the Nettles arc, ride the dragon and burn things.. So why does everyone treat Helaena as a little fragile house pet? Aemond is right, she can't defend herself and they would tear her apart. But no, he's also in the wrong here (showing him being violent towards Helaena is so OOC I won't even comment on it). And don't get me started on Alicent. She practically betrayed her faction twice, in ep 3 when she let Rhaenyra go. And she could have ended the war there and then, even before RR. Now she goes to Dragonstone to tell Rhaenyra she'll open the gates for her and this is framed as a good thing because her son is awful and she just wants to save her daughter? Yeah, no. However, Alicent is also defended, it's all on Aemond now, he is the evil villain ™. Aegon can be forgiven , Alicent can be forgiven, but Aemond can't? It's ridiculous. The worst thing is that I'm saying this as someone who has loved Alicent and all her children since s1.

THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH FOR THIS!

You’ve done it, you’ve said exactly what I have been thinking!

I wish I had something of substance to add to what you said, but I don’t. This needs to be a post of its own.

Aegon was treated horribly by the show. I am a huge fan of his. But now they’re doing the same thing to Aemond and he doesn’t deserve that shit.

Aemond is all that left of the Greens.

This show has butchered every single TG character.

[musette22]

you know what i think is a real travesty?? we still don't have a sebastian stan puppy interview...like who do we have to threaten to make that happen?!?!

TRUEEE!! You're so right, Div, why hasn't this happened yet?? Why is buzzfeed dropping the ball on this one? Sebastian is an Oscar nominee, hello?!

I guess maybe it's because he is actually the cutest man alive, so pairing him with puppies would mean Cuteness Overdose, and people would actually pass away, and that would cause all sorts of insurance issues. That's basically the only reason I can think of for why this hasn't happened yet 🤷🏻‍♀️

Nevertheless:

[rynnthefangirl]

"Ford should be blamed for being manipulated by bill because he was desperate for validation" hmmmmmm

Okay, perhaps I should expand upon this point a bit.

First to be clear, this post wasn’t meant to be hate to either Ford or Stan, it’s more just me saying what I think are fair criticisms of them vs what I think are unfair criticisms. When I say “blamed” I don’t mean they should be condemned, just that they did something wrong and there is a degree of accountability there.

Ford’s whole experience with Bill is a tricky one, because Ford undeniably WAS a victim here. Especially with what we learn in the Book of Bill, which really highlighted the abusive nature of their relationship. And yes, Bill’s manipulations targeted Ford’s insecurities stemming from a lifetime of bullying and his father’s harshness. Those are all reasons why we should 100% empathize with Ford, and understand that he is not just some horrible selfish person, the way Ford haters make him out to be.

BUT, I don’t think that erases all accountability. If Ford were the only person hurt by Bill, then sure totally, don’t blame the victim. However, that’s not the case. Ford’s actions nearly destroyed the entire universe, and definitely ruined at least one life (Fiddleford) not to mention the trauma suffered by all the residents of Gravity Falls. And yes, obviously BILL is ultimately the one to blame for all that, but Ford’s initial cooperation was essential. And the reason he was so ready to believe Bill was because of his own ego— stemming from his insecurity of course, but ego nevertheless.

Bill straight up tells us that this is what made Ford the perfect target: “the ego of a king and the insecurity of a circus freak”. Two sides of the same coin, and if you ignore either then you are ignoring important parts of Ford’s character arc. Ford was bullied and ostracized his whole childhood for being different, and it caused him to develop a superiority complex. He needs to believe that he is special, destined for greatness. Which ultimately causes him to look down on others and make reckless, selfish choices in pursuit of that greatness. Ford’s a scientist, trained to be objective and follow evidence-based logic— yet he immediately trusted this unknown entity with no real evidence towards his intentions, because Bill flattered his ego and told Ford what he wanted to hear. If Ford weren’t so self-important, Bill’s manipulations would never have worked. We can empathize with Ford’s backstory, but also recognize that it has caused him to develop some negative traits, which led him to make mistakes that had dire consequences. And again, those consequences are really key here. Ford’s mistakes didn’t just put himself at risk, they put a LOT of innocent people at risk… like, the whole world.

None of this is just me either— this was pretty explicitly Ford’s character arc in the show and books. Ford himself admits as much: “don’t blame yourself [Stan], I’m the one who made a deal with Bill in the first place. I fell for all his easy flattery, you would have seen him for the scam artist he is”. Ford’s whole arc is about learning to let go of his ego and inflated self-importance, and recognize the value of others (namely, Stan). He always cared about others deeply, but he needed to let go of his self importance in order to truly appreciate and connect with them. He grows and learns and seeks to atone for his mistakes, which is exactly what makes him such a good character, and IMO such a likeable one.

Sorry this was so long. Make no mistake, I love Ford to pieces. He might be my favorite character tbh (either he or Dipper… Dip’s historically been my favorite, but I’ve developed a huge appreciation for Ford since rewatching the show recently). And I honestly really appreciate people like you that stick up for him, because he gets wayyy too much unfair hate in the fandom. I just think there is a lot of nuance in this topic, and it’s a tricky balance between trying not to victim blame while also not completely absolving Ford of accountability for the huge danger that he put others in, unintentional though it may have been.

Anyway though, peace and love, and keep defending our boy Stanford because this fandom is mean to him and he needs it!❤️🫡