#she deserves to go to the most magical place on earth

[wayward-banana]

second play through going well. very serious game

#*angela voice* can we ride space mountain again #library of ruina #lor #angela library of ruina #Roland #roland library of ruina #she deserves to go to the most magical place on earth #with her comically large drumstick #where did she learn about this? a book obviously

[olderthannetfic]

I truly need US Americans to define what is/isn't racist for me. First it was racist when other fans didn't ship this black character with anyone. Now it's racist when I ship her as the one everyone is in love with in a poly ship. So it's racist for her not to have people in love with her, but having three people in love with her is ALSO bad? Is there a number of romantic partners it's unproblematic for black women to have? Because I saw someone else complain in another fandom that they hate when shows have a black woman who's just into one guy and doesn't date around, and people agreed that was racist, so clearly "zero", "one", and "three" are incorrect numbers of partners to have. Is two the magic number? Would THAT be okay?

I live in one of the most racially homogeneous places on Earth (that isn't Japan), I'm doing my best to not perpetuate racist tropes, but if she doesn't have sex, she's a prude, if she does she's a fetishized black woman, if she dates one person she's being too desexualized, if she dates no one that's even worse, if multiple men agree she's the kind of awesome where they're willing to talk shit out and work things out in order to all date her at once because they love her that much that's sexualization even without the sex being written but as we've covered not writing the sex AND writing the sex are both bad-

Genuinely, I see people in fandom who write her out of their stories and don't mention her at all getting zero hate comments and it's exhausting. "Center black women in fandom!" bro I tried and you all got way angrier at me than people who wrote her out of existence. Is there any way in which she can exist that's not going to make someone mad?

(For the record I am not about to stop writing this. Let her live out the ultimate dream of having dudes with personalities best described as Misplaced Shonen Hero, Icy One With A Heart of Gold and The Sunshine One all be into her. Somebody should get to, it might as well be her since she's friends with all of them canonically and she deserves good things.)

--

[alessabriel]

polaroid love.

Summary: When she called his name it made his heart race.

Cw. flulff, soft.

He had never been a fan of photos, eventually and his arrival in Gotham under the care of his father had learned to hate them by the detestable press that seemed not to have much more chaos to cover. He hated the photos, he didn't like them and when he appeared in them he looked so tense that his family learned the hard ones that he didn't like them.

That was until you came into his life, a flash in purple tones from cold to warm that hit him squarely in the face blinding him.

You were a brilliant person without trying and you lit up every damn room with your mere presence without counting on the trail of magic that danced around you as if it protected you, with your sweet and melodious voice you broke the silence around him and he loved it in a thousand possible ways and he felt lucky when you said his name,  with so much love and adoration that you caused his heartbeat to go completely crazy, as if the organ wanted to leave his chest and settle on your bare hands. It was a bloody, romantic metaphor you had said once, that time when you created a pendant out of thin air to wear around your neck and never take it off.

And so, with your arrival he began to take a liking to photos of any kind from the casual ones in which he caught you off guard leaving your pristine beauty exposed, the formal ones in which you wore the gala uniform of your private school (specialized in magic and even more private than his) or dresses to match their costumes when they could not escape the galas,  those where he could catch you sleeping peacefully on his chest or shoulder, when they came out in pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror with their faces still sleepy but he could not help but smile and those that made a special place in his memory; in which you went out with Titus on your lap, his great companion saw you with dreamy eyes as if you were some kind of goddess in his eyes (he believed the same) and those where Alfred his little sloe companion became putty on your body snuggling between your arms or on your chest. Those photos were polaroid and he kept them in his purse suspiciously, another pair well hidden in his private locker in the cave. He also began to like going out with you in selfies either in which he partially saw their faces, with silly filters (because in what world did you, the most divine being on this earth need a filter? I didn't understand, but it made you laugh and I was happy) or in which you always sealed your smooth lips on his cheek with your eyes always closed and he with a serious face or an attempt at it.

It was easy to start loving the photos where you went out because you were her beloved, the sun that her moon needed, the breath of fresh air on a hot day, the drizzle in a desert and the complement she did not know she needed in her life. The part of an equation sought, the longed-for inspiration and its eternal muse. Loving you had been so difficult at first, but you made your way through his heart like a warrior, you crossed his barriers and you took him out to live his life without the interference of others, you taught him many things; Learning that being wrong was okay, that it was part of being human his feelings and that it was not wrong to feel it, that he deserved love, tenderness and care.

You deserve to be yourself and be loved with the intensity of a thousand suns, and if you allow me I want to be the one who loves you Damian.

Those words still comfort him in those days when everything lacerated him, and his mind reproduced them until he slept, because he would never tire of remembering them.

Damian had read a lot as a child because it was the only way to approach a normality shown in books, one that he longed for, but did not know, and in those days that his psyche still kept hidden he remembered reading romantic books where the protagonists loved each other with everything and mistakes, with darkness, with defects and with hands full of blood.  even with his back loaded with thousands of ghosts from the past. Books where love never won, but never stopped fighting for a single opportunity.

They were certainly tragic books, yes, but they showed how much the characters loved each other.

And he knew that he wanted to be by your side years ago, when the uneasiness of not being loved as he wished for his parents was still fresh in his heart (father minimized him to just a tantrum child and his mother knew she would throw him under a train if he gained power with it), when with the damn sword of Deathstroke lodged in his chest and feeling himself lower by his own weight on the edge,  when I look at you he has the means of falling and unconsciousness; boiling in such a horrendous wake of magic that it suddenly advanced until it flooded the whole place and swallowed the mercenary whole. He never knew how he got to the ground or how you pulled out the sword, but he does remember your warmly cold hands on the hole left by the sword and the boiling sensation of tears falling on his skin like a strange sensation running through him whole. You whispered in another language that I did not identify, but distinguished supplications.

Don't take my best friend, please.

No one could know how you saved his life when his death was assured by the severity of his injuries, but no one got answers. You always deflected the subject by being annoying, talking like a chatter about your cartoons that you loved to watch until you got fed up with anyone who asked you, except him, and I always got the same answer –someday I could tell you Dami, but not today, please– and I respect that, even when I was 11 years old and longed to know.

Now today everything was complex, but at the same time easy, he learned a lot by your side. I felt like you always added to him, never subtracted from him. That feeling made him tremble from head to toe despite the assassin training that he took all his life, you simply made that old-fashioned feeling completely envelop his heart by removing any filter from his system, he could not retain the love he felt, nor the absolute and unconscious adoration he professed when he kept his gaze fixed on your figure taking care of your micro expressions and gestures,  In search of some discomfort or discomfort to help you, because every move he learned over years and never realized until he knew he was completely and madly in love with you.

He knew about your overflowing powers, how magic absolutely adored you, and how you understood it even more than your mother or grandfather. You were a being full of magic, in every aspect.

I knew that loud noises stunned you in an uncomfortable way, you didn't enjoy arguments, and you usually tended to be silent out of nowhere because they got lost, but you came back to yourself to continue any conversation.

He knew that you completely detested paperback books with very loaded or tasteless designs, he could reproduce in his memory your complaints about new books, the same complaints that he would listen carefully to protect the information.

Since they were friends I knew that you really disliked completely that your mother intervened in your training or missions, because from the beginning she abandoned you with Constantine (who surprisingly was a good father, somewhat absent but good) and therefore you had a tense relationship with her.

He always had in mind that you were cold and carried a jacket (his and even with traces of his cologne because he knew you loved it) in the back of his car.

Really everything he learned from you was almost by inertia, you were always attentive to him in many aspects which he loved, because nobody had taken the trouble to know all his preferences; From food to clothes, how he liked certain products over others, how he was constantly bored and carried a small book of artwork in your bag or car for him, how he sometimes worried because he could not let his guard down until your magic in the form of soft mist settled on the inside of his arm giving him comfort.

They were a litany of things they learned from each other.

Damian knew that with you in his life he opened up to new things, that having your hand holding his tightly there would be nothing he feared.

A semi-empty fair was one of the last places their families would look for them, both did not like those types of places at all. The perfect choice.

"Hurry up Mian!" you said with emotion, pulling the Wayne boy out of his dazed state.

With a soft snort without ulterior motives the tallest followed your light trot towards a photo booth crudely decorated with fair colors, but it had a certain gloomy charm for the old and once in front of it was nothing to take out your wallet you were faster paying and smiling shamelessly for it.

"I invited you to this date pretty boy, so I pay" you commented triumphantly before removing the curtain to give him access first "You First"

Damian could only smile at your tender antics and entered first without wasting time pulling you inside, there was a padded seat where he sat and pulled you into his lap, they could both see the options and after a little talk they opted for a simple polaroid that would give them two. He kept his gaze on the countdown and without a word took you by the cheeks with utmost care and kissed you, savoring the light, velvety texture of your lipstick against his own lips in every uncalculated move, and viciously swallowed your needy little gasp.

"Mian" you sighed dreamily when the kiss ended, your hands trembled on the fabric of his shirt and you looked with a smile as your boyfriend's lips looked reddish.

"Beloved" replied softly the tallest without avoiding kissing your sweet smile.

Between laughter and stolen kisses they left the photo booth, with a polaroid in hands.

Damian considered that you not only took a copy of the polaroid in your hands but his heart in your hands.

#dc x fem reader #damian al ghul x reader fem #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader fem #dc x reader fem

[solar-nightengale]

Hi, I’m new in this tag kinda and new to meta-writing overall, but not only is the August brain rot really strong but one particular part of his entire character has been on my mind for a whole weekend. Please take this as mostly an offering of very spilled thoughts cause I couldn't keep them to myself anymore, LMAO. Particularly the thing that's on my brain is his guilt

I would also like to make note of and thank @ lizardthelizard And her glorious set of tags here for setting off my spiral tonight and also when she first sent them because my goodness this is truly an eye-opener. Thank you, buddy 💖

Gosh though, August’s guilt and self-criticism of himself and his actions is something that really fascinates me personally, and just thinking of it being the cause of what turns him back to wood is both mind-blowing but it just makes so much sense. He may be real because of magic but who’s to say it’s just the magical conditions that are holding him back and not the high as heck expectations that he feels were set for him and he set up for himself.

When it feels like you can't mess up sometimes it can feel like you're stuck in place Or that your screw ups means you can't change, that you're not good, that maybe you don't deserve to be considered good and that your various flaws are all that others would see you FOR!!

Maybe it's different to anxiety but idk it’s what caught my attention about him even more than what his character already offered up in s1!

He was given this like 

Idea that he needs to be "Brave" and "Truthful" and "Selfless" all the time or else he cannot be human 

Does it work like that? no, there's no human on EARTH that's all three of those things all the time, we've all had moments of weakness and gave in 

But what does he know? Most of his life he spent on his own and as a puppet, he was expected to understand the ways of being a human and GOODNESS knows how short a time he was with his dad before he was THRUST into a world and forced once again to stand on his own two feet and expected to just, you know, know how to act once again 

He's followed by expectations that he finds himself struggling to meet because he doesn't know what the limit is or how to meet them, and sometimes if not all of the times the temptations are just better and easier 

And it's expected!!!

He stepped into TLWM as a child with no idea of what he’s getting into with no prior knowledge, no adult, no nothing.

But omg, he drags himself down so much about it because he can’t meet those expectations the way he would want to and because of that because literally who did he have to tell him that it's all okay? That you can make mistakes and move on from them? That you can make up for your mistakes and forgive yourself for them?

Did he have anyone at all? Cause The show sure didn't show him having anyone

We see one woman in Thailand but even after he discovers he's turning into wood she's no longer around, so like she's probably about as fleeting of a relationship as anything else

Imagine going 28 years at first ignoring all your problems and then the horror and thoughts that you’re not good enough catch up to you one morning and the more you see yourself a failure, the more you sink into that spiral the harder it feels to breathe.

#ouat #august booth #august meta #SORRY LIBBY I DIDN'T WANT TO BOTHER YOU WITH A TAG SO IT'S EMPTY LIKE THAT FOR NOW #BUT KNOW I'M SCREAMING MY APPRECIATION AT YOUUUU RN!! <33333 #Anyway terribly sorry for all this guys JBFKTHLRJCTRLK I've fallen deep into this hole #and I don't plan on getting out anytime soon #August is a fascinating character to me #and I'm in a constant state of rotating him in my head always and forever #He's so messy he's so pathetic but he also tries no matter how great or little #He wants to be human but god it's hard to be that when you don't even know what it means to be one #I don't anything like this ever so ahahhaaha I hope this stuff makes sense!! #See you around #Maybe LOL #sol talks

[specialagentlokitty]

Lokittys 2024 prompts

“I knew that you were from the beginning, I could see the blood on your hands. You’re like me.”

“You will always be a monster.” “Maybe, but like humans we can choose what we want to be.”

“He/she/they carry more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. He/she/they walked through hell a thousand times.” “Why are you telling me this?” “Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in his/her’s/their eyes is when he/she/they saw you.”

“I wish you always remember me as I was, that I once existed. Will you remember that I stood here with you like this?”

“There is no such thing as beautifully broken.” “Then what is it called?” “It’s called being torn apart from the inside out, and learning how to live.”

“Tell me something about you.” “All I’ve ever loved, I’ve loved alone.”

“You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.”

“Can I be honest about something?” “There’s a first time for everything, sure.” “There are no words that describe how I feel about you, no words to describe how deeply, passionately, insanely in love with you I am.”

“Why is he/she/they like this?” “All the coldest, rudest people were once as beautiful as flowers, as warm as the sun.”

“I fear if you get too close you’ll see me for who I really am, I don’t want you to see me for that.”

“Why does it hurt..?”

“Let pain come, let it wash over you, then let it leave.”

“You exist, and that in itself is beautiful.”

“You deserve a love so deep it roots itself into your very soul, reminds you that out there somebody who thinks of you and sees the world in your smile.”

“What is it about (Y/N) you love so much?” “Aside from being the most spectacular person I have ever met, everything. I just wish there was a way I could say that.” “Turn around.”

“Would you come find me?” “I’ll cross the entire earth if I have to.”

“Will you meet me in the place where we first met?”

“I’ve been told that apparently I love you.” “See, I want to say good for you but that doesn’t seem like the appropriate response.” “No, it really wouldn’t. But if you want to say it then that’s okay.” “Good for you.”

“Give me money.” “Do I like like a bank to you?” “Do you have money?” “Yes?” “Then yes.”

“I can’t read, you know that right?” “You can read, stop lying and help.”

“I didn’t know you were married, I can’t believe it! You didn’t tell me?!” “Wait until you find out who actually agreed to marry me.”

“Let’s make a bet.” “No!” “Why?” “Because somehow you always win!”

“I once sold my soul.” “Hard to believe you had a soul in the first place.”

“Can you use magic?” “I feel unsafe answering that.”

“You make me want to cry.” “Like, in a you’re happy to see me way?” “I said what I said.” “Is that a good or bad thing?!”

“Look, in life you either find a way or make a way, but if you stand there and do nothing, then you’ll never get where you want to be.”

“I need a parent or guardian to sign this.” “I’m neither.” “You’re close enough, sign it.”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I was hit by a car once, not fun.” “Not what I was expecting. Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Do you want a hug?” “No, that involves physical contact and that’s gross.” “We are quite literally married. If you’re angry at me just tell me.”

“Why is it every time I come here you seem to be here too?” “I study here.” “In detention?”

“What was the last thing he/she/they said to you?” “Ask if we could get married.”

“Can I stay at yours?” “You don’t need to ask.”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” “Home…”

“I don’t remember you… I’m sorry…” “that’s alright, how about we start again, from square one?”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“I can’t do this… be this anymore…”

“I never asked for any of this!”

“Did you mean it?” “What?” “When you said you loved me did you mean it?”

“Don’t go… stay with me..”

“I think when you’re in love, and that person in return loves you, it is the most beautiful thing in the world. The most painful thing.”

“All my heartache is because of you!”

“I’m.. I’m sorry…” “it’s okay… it’s not your fault…”

“If you want the world then it’s yours, whatever you want I’ll get it for you.”

“Come with me.” “Where?” “Anywhere but here.”

“I have to do this, I have to do it alone.” “No you don’t..”

“You’re all alone.” “I never go anywhere alone.”

“You’re not so scary.” “I’m not?”

“You’re the one!” “What?” “You are everything I never knew I needed, everything I never knew I wanted. You are the one person I want for the rest of my life, to be by my side.”

“Did you just punch me in the face?” “I would say sorry but that’s a lie.”

“How long have you been waiting?” “Hundreds of years.”

“I love the sound of your laugh.”

“What’s your favourite thing in this world?” “You.”

“He/she/they would hurt anybody, everybody, but you’re the one person he/she/they just can’t hurt.”

“You are the one thing that keeps me sane.”

“So, want to start a riot?” “Sometimes I worry about you.”

“Are you drunk?” “Extremely.”

“I swear to god I’m going to knock you out one day.”

“Are you an Angel!” “No, the opposite actually, demon.”

“Why do you insist on destroying all my things?”

“Stop throwing things!” “No!”

“Warn a person before walking up to them!”

“My mother warned me about people like you.” “Did you listen?” “No, I never was any good at that.”

“I’m pumped up on caffeine and I feel like my heart is going to explode.” “Yes, no more caffeine for you.”

“You’re very British.” “I.. don’t know if that’s an insult…”

“Why do you insist on breaking all the rules?”

“You stole my car?” “You left your keys unguarded.” “So you stole them?”

“Even if nobody else believes you I do.” “Really?” “Of course.”

“You will always be the most important part of my life.”

“Thank you.” “For what?” “For showing me what it’s like to be human…”

#Lokittys writing prompts

[fairytale-poll]

LOSER'S BRACKET ROUND 2! MATCH 1 OUT OF 4

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary

General Propaganda:

come on just look at her shes so fucking cool

SHES SOOOOOOOO FUCKING COOOOLL ok so like. Lobotomy Corporation takes place in an SCP type facility where a bunch of abnormalities are living. She is one of them. She is a mostly undying humanoid creature that lives for the sole sake of hunting down the Big And Will Be Bad Wolf. She lives in your facility and will BREAK OUT of her containment if she feels that the wolf is near (or if too many people are dying). You can also hire her to assist you in taking down other abnormalities, and she's actually super good at it. And her outfit is just so sooo sick? She's so cool. Please play Lobotomy Corporation it goes on sale for like $7 every Steam Sale

She's red riding hood if red riding hood had a gun. Also she kisses women

Monster based on human subconscious aka an Abnormality based on the story of Little Red Riding Hood (duh). In this story, she was mauled by the wolf (Big And Might Be Bad Wolf) who is based on all fairy tale wolf villains. Little Red then got to work plotting her revenge and making Bloodborne-esque gear for herself and the two Abnos are locked in eternal combat of hatred for one another

She's literally the coolest, just look at her. For people who might not be so familiar with her: She's one of the abnormalities that remain locked in the Lobotomy Corporation. Her past is somewhat unclear, but she has some horrid scars on her face due to the Big Bad Wolf and she swore vengeance upon him because of that incident. This lead her to become a mercenary and she looks 1000% scarier and more badass than the wolf lol. Also, asides from the fact that she may kill half of your team if she escapes containment, she is quite chill and will even help you take care of your problems if you pay her.

little red riding hood but consumed by vengeance to the point of becoming an anomalous creature hellbent on completing her eternal battle with the wolf. intense desire for revenge. baller as fuck design. will help you kill other escaping abnormalities but you gotta pay her to do it. gets pissed off every time someone escapes containment except for that one annoying bird for absolutely no discernible reason. if you let her kill the wolf she gives you bonuses but if someone else kills the wolf she goes fucking bananas. truly an inspired feral creature of a woman.

Go girl!!! We love your unrestrained violence!

She is literally the absolute coolest!!! I mean, just look at her design! Everything about it screams fucking cool! Not to mention that her story has themes of vengeance, rage, and grief!!! And Lobotomy corporation is just the fucking best and soooooo underrated.

She's starting to fall behind so GO ON AND VOTE MERC WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! (and buy Lobotomy Corp on steam it's not even that expensive!)

Vote for Riding Hooded Mercenary she's an Abnormality serving as a hired merc that means shes a hunter of her own kind and she WILL chase them to the ends of earth lest she dies herself or knows that damn Wolf is nearby. The cursor for sending hits on something is a wanted poster. She's WAW-classed too, a step below the most dangerous category for her ilk. she shares the class with things such as insane-ass magical girls, an eyeless flower horse turns people into wisteria gardens, fucked up and evil Little Prince, a bird judge that hangs its victims, the now-animate poisoned apple that killed Snow White, and of course the Wolf itself.

Loser's Bracket Propaganda:

little red wouldve gone so so hard if she wasnt against ylfa immediately… victory for our mercenary gal.

Riding Hooded Merc is a bonafide baddie & professional

She;s so fucking cool. almost got murdered by the wolf (also in lobcorp by the way) and she wants revenge so bad. cool as hell mercenary. also just look at her come on

I feel that they all deserve a bit more recognition as just about every Little Red Riding Hood is remembered for their story, but not their character. And I believe that the few I selected are truly well rounded characters, and amazing takes on who the character is.

the Lobotomy Corp one I know nothing about but who has a sick design (I also want the fans of this one to have a win because I liked watching the first round because of them)

Ruby Rose

General Propaganda:

She has a scythe that is also a high-impact sniper rifle.

She is literally just based on Red Riding Hood and she's such an amazing character holy heck

Red Riding Hood but with a gun. (Specifically a combination scythe/high-impact sniper rifle called Crescent Rose). Also she's gone through so much she deserves it. She's trying to save the world and keep going despite all the people she's lost. Grew up dreaming of being a hero who fights monsters. She knows life isn't a fairy tale and wants to make it better. Just went through a mental health arc where she had depression from trying to live up to her (presumed dead) mom and from her friend dying for the second time. Killed the Big Bad Wolf with her magic eye powers. Her sister is Goldilocks and her friends are Beauty and Snow White. also I love her &lt;3

She’s the little red riding hood but also a powerful fighter with a massive fucking scythe that is also a sniper rifle and she’s so skrunkly and so gender. Also RWBY’s whole thing (well one of them) is that their characters are all inspired by pre-existing ones from older stories and Ruby’s the main character so like, poster child of ‘character based off [insert relevant fairytale here]’ so I think she deserves to at least get pretty far

Aesthetics, themes, meta, personality and raw coolness.

She is the main character of her show. The most common monster they fight is a type of wolf (its been a while since ive seen it). Her job is to hunt them down before they can eat her. this story is very much about failed fairy tales, many of the side character's inspired arcs end in failure, but (having not seen the most recent bits) Ruby is still going strong, and i really like her cape, rose petals, and use of a scythe.

She is THE RRH character of all time. She has a scythe that's also a gun and she has to be the hero because she's got super rare main character powers. She is my happy girl. Also her mom was Sleeping Beauty and her sister is Goldilocks, and she fights to stop Rapunzel from destroying everything on the world, the gods, and then herself.

Ruby as a character is literally based on little red riding hood! She has a red cape with a hood

the Red trailer is better propaganda than I could ever write

She is a badass with a scythe, inspired by her uncle and fueled by her mother's death and her sense of righteousness

She has a giant scythe

Loser's Bracket Propaganda:

ruby rose makes me go :D so i picked her here <3 hope this helps

luv them

Ruby Rose is my blorbo in law and I need her in because of that

#red riding poll #loser's bracket #loser's bracket round 2 #poll tournament #poll bracket #polls #character polls #red riding hood #little red riding hood #fairytale #little red riding hooded mercenary #f-01-57 #lobotomy corporation #ruby rose #rwby

[dr-ground-zero]

A burden shared

(this is a hurt + sickfic for Luci/Lilith, there isn't alot of snez in this but, i like it honestly and I hope ya'll do too. CW description of a battle field, death, injuries and blood (nothing too gory, i'm not a monster))

This was the end, the end of his life as a Seraphim, as the angel of death, as god’s favorite, all because he dared to dream. He weakly looked up at the red sky of Hell’s pride, the angels and exorcists were now flying back up to heaven leaving him and Lilith to pick up the pieces of their new home. Bodies were everywhere, bodies of sinners and a few hellborns lay dead in the streets. The clouds darkened with rain, harsh winds blew through their bodies with vengeance. Lilith watched her husband weakly stagger to his feet, stumbling through craters of the earth, tip toeing around entrails of what remained. He approach an old abandoned worn-down castle. Lucifer knew he didn’t have much strength left, he used most of what he had to fight to try and stay in heaven or to protect and heal Lilith. Still, they needed somewhere to stay, so he pressed his hands to the walls and with the last bit of magic, he had transformed it to its reformed state.

“Lucifer what are you doing!?” Lilith asked as she limped up behind him

“If we’re going to be down here, we might as well make the best of it” Lucifer smiled softly right before collapsing. Lilith grabbed him before her lover could hit the ground, she watched as the castle changed, its color becoming brighter, bricks falling back into place. Some of the other angels that fell alongside Lucifer-that weren’t gravely injured or dead- hurried to open the doors for her. Lilith carried Lucifer inside while being followed by her fellow fallen, for a while they took residence on the ground floor until they were strong enough to adventure upwards. Many of the appliances and furniture from the inside needed a mend or updating but it was better than being stuck out in the pouring rain.

When she found the-what would be considered- the master bedroom, she laid Lucifer down gently and began to bandage up what she could while he was unconscious. As a day or two went on some kind demons would bring over what they could to help. The change overnight was overwhelming, to say the least. Going from living in heaven and now in hell was jarring, they had lost everything, their home, their food, and those they thought would never betray them were the ones to almost kill them!

When Lucifer was conscious they both had to grapple with their new reality and it wasn’t easy. Still, they’d make do with what they had.

“ih! IIZZSCHYUE!” “Bless you, Luci, darling are you sure you’re alright?” Inquired Lilith as she let her husband help wash the dried blood from her body. Lucifer nods while rubbing at his nose with a wet sniffle.

“Yes dear, I’m alright. How are you doing?” “Still a bit sore but, better than yesterday, thank you.” Lilith kissed the top of his head while pushing his wet hair out of his face with a soft smile. It was good to see him finally not covered in golden blood. However, she couldn’t tell if it was because he was still recovering or if he had caught something. He had been sneezing since they woke up, his throat sounded painful and strained, not to mention the sniffling. Lilith did manage to sustain a few bad injuries herself, some Lucifer was able to heal himself, though others still needed time.

“I’m so sorry you got dragged into this Lili flower, you didn’t deserve this.” He apologized as he continued to wash Lilith’s body letting her blood be rinsed off and drained by the shower. Lilith shook her head and cupped his face in her hands making him look up at her. Her eyes met his with an adoring glint.

“I followed you by choice Lucifer, I followed you on my own volition, I chose to stick by you and I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no need to apologize my love” Lucifer looked up at her with admiration, oh how he loved her so much. Just as he was finishing up to let Lilith wash him up he let out a sudden

“Ih’kgnk! Gnnx-chiew! Hgk-chiew!” A wince and a groan slipped from his lips and he clutched his sides. Lilith quickly reached for him cautiously fearing he would fall over. Lucifer held onto the wall to steady himself and gasped out.

“Sorry, I-I’ll be okay.” Lilith shook her head at this and asked for Lucifer to be honest with her. The blond-haired demon twiddled his fingers a bit while muttering.

“Bm-maybe I’m a little under the weather. Ndothing serious I promise.” Lilith didn’t fully trust his answer, turning off the shower she grabbed a towel and wrapped him and then herself up.

“Stay here and dry off, I will go and fetch fresh warm pajamas and bandages, fix you up and you’ll be off to bed.” She says while carefully sitting Lucifer down on the closed toilet before leaving the bathroom. Lucifer couldn’t help but feel bad for her doing all this for him, he should be able to take care of himself he was the king of hell for hell's sake! But here he was sitting covered in stab wounds, bruises, gashes, and scars. Pathetically snuffling and sneezing while his wife who was still healing from her own injuries was taking care of him. He grumbled to himself while wiping his runny nose on the towel. He didn’t feel as bad when he woke up, but now it was starting to settle in. The aching grew worse with any sort of sudden movement, especially to his chest and ribs. He felt like he couldn’t get warm, his body still shivering underneath the thick fluffy soft towel. His head was clogged with congestion even with his nose running like a broken faucet. And don’t even get him started on his poor throat!

Lilith came back dressed in a casual nightgown with a first aid kit in hand. She went through and rebandaged his injuries trying to be as gentle as possible. She hated to feel him flinch from her touch, she hated even more how overly warm his skin felt to her. She reached into the box pulled out a thermometer and held it up to his mouth.

“Can you keep this under your tongue for me, dear?” Without another word, Lucifer opened his mouth just enough for her to slide the tool under his tongue. As she waited for the results she went back to assessing and fixing him up. A soft yet sad expression washed over her, she was still getting used to Lucifer’s new form. His eyes used to be this bright blue color now turned red and would sometimes change to a dilated menacing gold. His lower half was more goat-like, but now he had a long demon’s tail with an arrow tip that he wasn’t the best at controlling.

His hands which used to be a palish white now blackened from the forearms to the tips of his fingers. These features would become more apparent when angry, he would sprout horns and spitfire. She had changed, Lilith also had horns that would change in size as did her height. Even with the change not being as visibly significant as Lucifer’s, it was still something to adjust to! Yet she still adored the man before her, and he still adored her just the same. The thermometer was done by the time she had finished with the last set of bandages. Looking over the results she sighed and packed it away.

“No wonder you feel so awful, 101.5 isn’t good. It's not too high but, with your injuries, I’m still worried.” Extending a hand out to her husband, she helped dress him in comfortable pajamas as promised and helped him to beg. It hurt him more to see the bandages on Lilith’s ankles and wrists, he hated that she got hurt at all. He watched as she limped around trying to adjust her weight as she walked around.

“Lili, love wh-why dodn’t you rest a bmidute, I can manage on my own love.” He suggested hesitantly he outstretched his arms but had to reel back to muffle a few sneezes.

“Ih hih! IIZZSCHYUE IIZZSCHYUE!” Biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a grunt from pain he went back to making grabby hands at his wife. Of course, she couldn’t say no to him, so she climbed into bed alongside him. Shuffling up to her, he laid his head just barely against her. Lilith pulled him closer laying his head on her chest, her hands started to comb through his damp hair.

“Bless you, I do hope you feel better soon, Luci. I’m sorry you feel so awful.” “Thagks, it's alright Lili flower, I’ll be okay. I’ll be better after sobe sleep. I prombise.” Although she didn’t believe him, he wasn’t wrong about needing rest, he needed as much as he could get! She hummed in agreement and continued to stroke his head soothingly till they both ended up back asleep.

Due to how this cold was going Lucifer didn’t know how long he had slept but when he woke up he was utterly blocked up. He couldn’t get a stream of air through his nose, felt like it was filled with a wall of cement. His throat still hurt to the point of coughing, shit he didn’t need a cough on top of this! He also didn’t need to wake Lilith with it either. So he forced what strength he thought he had and slinked out of bed. The walk down the stairs was agonizing, each step felt like a shock wave of pain that coursed through his ailing body. Making it to the kitchen, he turned on the kettle after filling it with water and waited for it to boil.

Being out of bed wasn’t helping his chills, maybe he should’ve taken a blanket with him. His shoulders were hunched over as he sat on a stool in front of the countertop shivering and rubbing at his nose that for fuck sake wouldn’t stop twitching!

“Uhh…? IIYISSCHUE IIYISSCHUE! IYIIMPH!” He managed to muffle the last sneeze into his shirt thankfully but damn were those sneezes dizzying and strong. It felt like he had the wind knocked out of him! He had to hold onto the counter hoping not to fall off. The harshness of his sneezes ended up making him cough. Clutching his torso torso to try and lessen the pain, he was left gasping shakily for air.

“Damb that fuckig hurt” He whined out before hopping off the stool as the sound of boiling water rolled inside the kettle. Grabbing a mug he poured the water into the cup, grabbed some honey and lemon, and stirred it around, he also made a cup for Lilith. They also needed to eat something, maybe cooking couldn’t hurt him, it was just soup, right? He grabbed what they had and got started on making soup.

He may or may not have overestimated how much strength he had and was beginning to tire out. Fighting his body to stay upright wasn’t as easy as it sounded with each sneeze wracking his body and scratching at his sore throat. Even with him leaning against the counter while he let his soup cook he could feel his energy depleting.

“Sh-shit hih! IIYISSCHUE IIYISSCHUE!” These two had him desperately holding onto anything he could to stay on his feet.

“Luci?” A soft yet worried voice called out, Lucifer didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Lilith.

“Hi darling” He replied while using his sleeve to wipe at his nose.

“What are you doing out of bed?” She didn’t sound angry just concerned, Lucifer held up a mug of tea and handed it to her.

“I figured we needed sobethig to eat or drink so I went and made sobe tea, and soup is sti-stihh still cooking Hih! Kgnk! Ugh Sorry.” Taking the mug Lilith sighed and pulled her husband to her.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed, love, you can hardly stand up.” Lucifer shook his head and tried mustering up a smile.

“You’ve done so much already, and I’m perfectly well enough to make something for us, you’re still hurt too. I didn’t want you to do too much” Lucifer’s voice cracked almost painfully, Lilith cringed at how bad he sounded. Reached for a cloth she pressed it to his nose.

“Blow your nose dear, I can hardly understand you.” Blushing in embarrassment Lucifer tried to wiggle his way out of it but Lilith wasn’t having it. So he did as told, even though he hated being this weak in front of her. She gingerly cleaned up his face before looking at the contents in the pot grabbed the spoon to stir things around and added spices.

“I’ll take care of the soup, you sit back and enjoy your tea okay.” Lucifer pouted at this and tried to protest this.

“I’ve got it Lili Flower, please.” His attempt was weak, and Lilith smiled at him warmly.

“I know you do, and you got just about everything started, i’m just finishing it up for you, like how we used to. So please let me help.” She kissed his forehead, she could feel the heat radiating from him and it worried her. He shouldn’t be straining himself so much, she didn’t want his fever to get any higher. The king of hell huffed and agreed, this was something they would do at times. One would start cooking and the other would either help or come in later and take over. Yet he didn’t want Lilith doing all the work.

When the soup was done, they went back up the stairs to their bedroom and curled up under the covers. They both ate their soup cuddled up beside each other. The warmth of the soup and tea did wonders at warming him up from the inside. For once he wasn’t shaking like a leaf in the wind, it was also loosening up the congestion clogging up his head. The only downside was it made his nose run which resulted him in not so gently rubbing and wiping at it to keep himself from making a mess. Lilith looked over at him hearing a small grumbling noise from him and saw him harshly scrubbing at his nose that was almost a bright red color. She giggled a little at this, she couldn’t help but comment on it.

“Oh Luci love, be careful. Your nose is already so red.”This had Lucifer blushing deeper and almost looking crossed-eyed down at his nose. Lilith laughed harder at her husband’s antics.

“How's your soup?” Lucifer asked trying to keep from blushing any harder.

“It's good, you did a good job love.” Lucifer grinned a little at her compliment and leaned into her side as he set his bowl aside.

“I’mb glad, felt bad about you doig everything, I had to do sobethig for you.” Lilith’s brows furrowed confusedly, setting down her own bowl she asked for him to elaborate. Lucifer’s grin turned sheepish and the tips of his pointy ears tinted the same as his cheeks.

“W-well you’ve been taking care of me since we fell from hell. You’ve been doing everything, bandaging me up, helping me shower, making food, helping the other fallen, and all I’ve done was lie here like a pathetic log while you did all the work.” Tears lined the rims of his eyes as he looked away from the half-human half-demon queen. He looked down at his bandaged arms as he couldn’t face her like this.

“Y-You don’t deserve this Lilith…You deserve to be happy, you deserve to see the good in people, and you deserve to see the light and be up in paradise….Not stuck down here with sobe loser who thigks his dreams will get hib ady where.” Before Lucifer could continue as the tears rained down his face, he felt warm palms gently cup his face and the weight of the bed shifting. He was pulled into a tender kiss by the woman who was now straddling his waist. She made sure not to put too much of her weight on him as she did this not wanting to hurt him.

“Lucifer, I told you before, I chose to do this with you. From the moment I left Adam to now, everything I did was by choice. Sure some things I did unsure of the outcomes but I do not regret them, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be with you. I’m taking care of you because you took care of me, you took the brunt of the attack, you took those spears, arrows, and whatever else they threw at you….When they took me from you and asked whether I would take the same fate as you, I knew that I would be exiled, but I chose to do it because I would still be with you. That is all that matters to me. That I am with you, and that we are both happy. Me taking care of you is the least I could do for you!” She pulled him into a hug as she continued.

“I love you, whether you are Sameal the Seraphim and angel of death, or Lucifer Magne Morningstar, sin of pride and king of hell. You took a risk, and it may not have gone as planned, but it's a start, and I don’t want you to give up. Please. Lucifer.” Her voice breaking as she pleaded to him, Lucifer hesitantly wrapped his arms around her slowly melting into her embrace.

“So please just let me take care of you….You don’t have to take this on all on your own…” Her voice almost a whisper. At first, Lucifer remained silent before he nuzzled his face into the crook of her shoulder while nodding.

“Alright, my precious Lili flower. We can share this burden together…as king and queen.”

#groundzero fics #non kink blogs don't interact #snzblr fandom #I hope ya'll liked this #i honestly had fun writing it #let me know if ya'll want more of this fandom from me

[khaleesiofalicante]

me opening up LDV and thinking max is talking to David 😁😁😁😁😁😁only to realize it was mallory 😡😡😡

SHE NEEDS TO STAY AWAY FROM THE MOST MAGICAL PLACE ON EARTH MALLORY WHEN I CATCH YOU!!!!!

also something about the family dinners was really getting my tlnd heart (I will ALWAYS bring up tlnd and praise it especially since you got so much hate towards it I will ALWAYS be tlnd hype girl) like it was so different from the ice cream dates (I also found out krazy scoops with a k is a real ice cream place in Albany !!! dani i love you for this btw) and how they didn’t stick to their plan of having weekly family time but now they are in this universe im so happy!!! and Alec calling magnus baby made me cry??? I’m normal about them btw :)

also this line from David made me SOB?? I had my dream internship last year and it ended and i feel like i lost a lot of my spark and sense of self and magic and this line just really hit home while im trying to find joy again 😭😭im also a big lover of disney and whimsy and david talking about the movies made me so happy (but he needs to watch and appreciate moana!!! My fav)

anyway long post!!! but i hope you are enjoying vacation like you deserve!! The pics from Croatia are STUNNING!! And im so glad you got to visit somewhere you dreamed of going 🥹🥹

I knew one of you would fall for it lmaooo

Krazy Scoops is indeed real. I looked up ice cream shops near the actual governor’s residence 🫢🫢 the research I did for this fic is insane lol

I’m glad you liked the magic quote. It’s a very David thing to say, isn’t it 🥹

Croatia is such a beautiful country. Honestly deserves more hype tbh 😤😤😤

#LDV

[thekaykery]

reasons why i hate you

pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

category: established fwb, pwp, smut

word count: 3.1k

rating: 21+

warning(s): dom!yoongi, brat!reader, a conversation about status, cursing, pet names, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap, he uses the pull-out method), riding, voyeurism (he records), average degradation, overstimulation, praise, aftercare and mention of dinner

notes: the moodboard was completed by @egocypher ❤️ thank you shay, and thank you beezy @hobeemin for beta-reading this for me. ❤️

You hate him.

With every fiber of your being, every cell, every heartbeat, and every breath.

It isn’t fair. Whatever heavenly being that cursed you to live at the same time as him deserves to be damned. His existence is your ultimate bane. You want to get rid of him so you can reside in peace, but the most you can do is pretend he wasn’t born.

But at the same time, you yearn for him. You want him to continue bothering you, make your life a living hell and heaven at the same time. To listen to his soothing voice and see his adorable smile. To witness him above you as he scrambles your thoughts with a single roll of his hips. Kiss him, watch him work his magic on you, dragging you further under his spell.

He is like poison.

But do you care? Not really.

You suppose that’s why you’re drawn to him. He’s forbidden, someone you can never have.

Your entire being thrums with energy as you observe him patiently pluck away at the strings of his acoustic guitar, his keen ears trying to understand a tune within the chaos of the notes.

Curled up on the couch, you wait for him to finish the bar he’s constructing, your fingers playing with your sweater. You grimace at the harsh noise of a string being played too hard, and you’re afraid it’ll snap, but he lays a veiny hand on top of the strings above the soundhole, silencing it.

This same silence strikes a flame in your lower abdomen, your skin itching with anticipation. Maybe he’ll finally pay attention to you like you’re his guitar, the music within you waiting to be played.

“Was that alright?” he softly asks, his smoldering gaze meeting yours, making your heart leap. “To me, something’s missing.”

You shake your head. “No, I think it’s fine.”

He stays quiet, thinking, then stands, setting the guitar in the chair. His movement has your fingers curling into fists, tummy twisting with eagerness as he approaches you. Placing his hands on either side of you, he peers at you, head tilting slightly.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he murmurs, and the way he says your name makes you shiver, “why do I have the idea to add your pretty noises to my song?”

Heat floods your cheeks. “What do you mean?”

Annoyance flashes over his face for a brief second. “Come now, don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I mean.”

You do.

He’s referring to the times when he’s buried balls-deep inside you, spoiling you with filthy words, drawing the naughtiest noises from you. When you let him do whatever he wants to you, treat you like an angel walking on Earth or a slut who needs a reminder of where she belongs.

You love it. All of it.

“I should record you and use your moans in my song.”

Your jaw drops at his blunt statement. He’s a nasty man, and his nastiness has bled into you, corrupting you, making you as sick as he is.

Everything he likes in bed, you like in bed.

“Should you?” you say, knowing he’ll take your challenging tone as bait.

He narrows his eyes and shoves a hand into his pocket to grab his phone. He fiddles with it for a moment, then sets it down beside you. He isn’t kidding.

“Take ‘em off,” he lowly orders, eyeing your shorts.

With pink cheeks, you undo your shorts, hooking your thumbs under the waistband along with your panties, removing both garments in one go. You lean back and spread your legs, baring your drenched cunt to him, toes curling in excitement.

You hope he eats you out, drives you up the wall with his ridiculously talented tongue.

He hums in satisfaction because of your obedience, lowering to his knees. His veiny hands find the undersides of your thighs, his rings ice-cold against your clammy skin. You bite your lip, anxiously waiting while he examines your pussy.

“So pretty…”

His tongue rolls around in his mouth, and your breath catches as a drop of spit lands on you. Growing impatient, your lips part to hurry him along, but he connects with your aching core, licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gently sigh, hearing him grunt and feeling his grip tighten, his nails lightly digging into your skin.

He repeats this action a few times, the combination of his spit and your juices creating strings, connecting his mouth to your folds. He spits again, then captures your sensitive bud of nerves with his lips, suckling on it. You moan, your head falling back as his tongue occasionally darts out to slurp up your essence, not letting a single drop go to waste.

“Yoongi,” you mewl, clenching around nothing, watching him dine on you like a starving man.

The man hums, flattening his tongue and lightly shaking his head side to side, eliciting a whine from you. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly this time, hollowing his cheeks. He switches to lapping at it, rapidly flicking the tip of his tongue against it. You whimper, your hand finding his hair, strands silky and black, bolts of pleasure zinging through you again and again.

Molten lava and hellfire. That is what Yoongi is to you, while you are an iceberg, endlessly melted by his incessant heat, and you never want him to stop.

While you hate him with your whole being, you hit the jackpot.

“Such a pretty puppy,” Yoongi rasps, the vibration of his voice making you shake. “Always so wet for me, hm?”

“Y-Yes,” you croak, eyes rolling the moment he teases your entrance with his tongue.

“Of course.” He crudely spits on you once more, parting your folds, watching the bead drip down to your entrance and mix with your wetness. “So damn wet every time I see you. Just can’t get enough of me, hm?”

“N-No.” You swallow as he lifts your clitoral hood with his thumb, squealing when he suctions the nub, violently jolting with each suck.

Yoongi parts from you with a pop, eyeing your drenched cunt with a lustful gaze. “Poor thing. Puppy must be aching, yeah?”

You nod, panting, shivering when he lightly blows air on your pussy. You tug on his hair with a little whine. Yoongi hushes you, wordlessly reminding you to be patient and diving in. He rapidly laps at your clit, his free hand joining the orchestra between your legs, teasing your throbbing cunt. You whimper and lift your hips, his tongue making wave after wave of pleasure wash over you. The knot in your tummy twines tighter with every lick, your thighs trembling in anticipation.

“Y-Yoongi,” you whisper, steadily rocking into his receiving mouth, your body aflame because of the way he stares up at you. “F-Fuck, don’t stop.”

He lightly chuckles, slipping his thumb inside you. You gasp softly, walls clamping down around it as he steadily pumps it in and out of you. Biting your lip, you rut your hips a bit faster, your eyes rolling slightly. Fuck, it’s not fair. He’s not fair.

Fuck Yoongi and his godly skill of giving head.

He nips at your bud of nerves, and you yelp. His thumb is replaced with his digit, which swiftly thrusts into you, bringing more noises out of you. He resumes his actions with his tongue, and the combination of both that and his finger has you moaning.

“Y-Yoongi!” you choke out, feeling that bubble of ecstasy threatening to burst. “‘M gonna cum, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!”

He doesn’t, opting to go faster instead. Just that alone breaks you. Shrieking, your thighs squeeze down around his head, your high slamming into you like a tsunami. You moan loudly, your back arching, restlessly bucking your cunt a little more. As you settle into overstimulation, Yoongi slows, guiding you through your orgasm. Once you’ve calmed down, he breaks away with a hum, his lips and chin shiny.

“Delicious,” he murmurs, smirking. You lay limp beneath him, face flushed, trembling lightly. He gently rubs your thigh, his rings cold against your warm skin. “You okay?”

You slowly peel your eyes open, your mind swimming with the high of your orgasm. “Yeah… Shit…”

Chuckling lightly, Yoongi reaches over and stops the recording. Heat floods your face and ears. You forgot he kept his word. He locks his phone and tosses it on his chair, which thankfully doesn’t bounce off and land on the floor. He meets your gaze; the way he looks at you tells you he isn’t done with you just yet.

“Alright, angel,” he says, lifting you off the couch to take your spot. He has you straddle him; your cunt still bared to him. “Think you can cum again?”

Confusion ripples through you. Yoongi usually sends you off after you cum or vice-versa. He’s never wanted a second round with you before, so hearing this is strange. Seeing your expression, his hands glide up your thighs, snaking one between them to glide a finger through your folds.

“Is it wrong of me to keep listening to you?” he softly asks, finding your clit and rubbing threadbare circles on it. You shakily exhale. “Honestly, Y/N…”

The way your name falls off his lips has you shuddering. Your name comes from him like an unbreakable curse, an impending storm about to hit. Your stomach flutters nervously. You know he’s aware of your dislike for him, but does that stop you from hanging with him? No. Yet, for some reason, you can’t find it in yourself to stop this.

This has to end before either of you gets too involved.

But will you?

Most likely not.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, grasping his shoulders, squeezing them gently. “Why do you do this with me?”

His hand stills. You wait, watching his eyes flicker around your face for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he quietly replies.

You don’t say anything so he can elaborate. But he doesn’t. You frown. “That’s it?”

The lust in his face shutters. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I was expecting a reason,” you say flatly. “Are you sticking around because you want something from me? Or do you just want my body? It seems like the latter to me.”

His lips purse. “I’m not your boyfriend. I told you that shit doesn’t fly with me.”

You want to snap back a retort, but you refrain, inhaling a calming breath instead. “Yes, I remember you saying such at the beginning of our arrangement, but…” You bite your lip. “What do I say when people ask about you? We’re not exactly friends.”

He quirks a brow. “You talk about me?”

You clamp your mouth shut. Why did you say that? You shouldn’t be speaking about a person you hate.

“W-Well…”

Silence; until Yoongi breaks it.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Why do you hate me?”

You laugh a bit. You didn’t expect this from him. “Why do I hate you?” you softly say, diverting your gaze. “I’ll give you a few reasons why I hate you. I hate the way you make me want more. I hate how you crawl under my skin without even trying. I hate how you drive me crazy with literally no effort.”

You pause, heart thumping. “I hate how I want to keep seeing you, how I want to listen to your voice and see you smile and hear you laugh. I hate that we’re living at the same time, and I hate that you ruined my life.”

“I ruined your life?”

“Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. “In all the best and worst ways. I was a good girl, a good student. I showed up to classes on time and turned in all my schoolwork before it was due. I didn’t have tattoos, I didn’t drink, and I definitely didn’t have sex.”

You finally look at him. “Then I met you at that party, and now I drink. Now I have tattoos. Now I show up late and turn in my assignments past the due date. Now I have sex. Because of you.” You poke his chest. “I do all of these things now because of you, Yoongi. I used to be perfect. A perfect student, the perfect good girl, the perfect daughter. You ruined it all.”

“Is there a point to all of this, or are you just trying to make me feel shitty?” Yoongi butts in.

“Yes, if you stay quiet.”

He rolls his eyes.

You sigh, swallowing. “I hate you because you freed me.”

He waits for a few seconds. “That’s it?” he parrots.

You smack his shoulder. “Shut up, asshole.”

“So, does this mean you like me or some shit?”

You hesitate, scrambling to collect your thoughts. “I… don’t know how I feel, but I do know I don’t want this to stop.”

He doesn’t reply, staring at you. Then he says, “Alright. I don’t mind that.”

You nod. “Okay. But why do you hate me?”

You receive a breathless chuckle. “You’re a distraction. You’re loud and annoying, but you’re kind-hearted and sweet. I hate that you’re my complete opposite, and I don’t deserve to see your body like this.”

You tilt your head curiously. “You think you’re undeserving of me?”

He nods. “Pretty much, and I’m not someone you should be with like this. I… I can be selfish.”

“Yoongi, you’re not the only selfish one here.”

His lips twitch for the briefest moment. “Maybe.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “We should re-evaluate the terms of our… friendship.”

“Alright.”

“Okay, so.” You adjust slightly. “One thing I definitely want is that you refrain from seeing other girls. I don’t want to be contracting whatever you get from them.”

He snorts. “Okay.”

You glare at him again for a short second. “Second thing. I would like us to talk when we’re not fucking.”

He lifts a brow.

“If this is going to be a long-term thing, I don’t want to be strangers.” You cross your arms. “I want to get to know you as a person, Yoongi. I need to know you beyond your dick.”

“Any other demands?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“‘Kay. Can we continue now?”

You playfully think about it. “I suppose.”

His hand grasps your nape, tugging you down to kiss you while the other slips two digits inside you. You moan softly against his lips, rocking into his touch. His tongue enters your mouth and finds yours, caressing it, his fingers curling, fingertips brushing over that one spot that makes you see stars. You whimper, clutching the couch behind him.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you croak.

He hums, quickening his pace, and you lightly squeal. Little gasps escape you, eyes rolling in bliss as Yoongi nips your neck.

“Think you’re ready?” he grunts, withdrawing his fingers as you nod eagerly.

You watch him shove his sweats and boxers out of the way, freeing his beautiful cock. It stands tall and proud; his girth flushed red, his tip leaking. He lowers you slightly, gliding his tip through your drenched folds. You shiver, head falling forward as he guides you down his length. Moaning, you take the rest of him in one movement, your cunt squelching.

“Shit, princess,” he hisses, furrowing his brows when you begin to ride him, using him as support. Your ass lightly smacks his thighs, his balls nestling perfectly against your second hole each time you sink on him.

“Feel so good.” Whining, you lean back on his knees with your hands, gasping as his cock rubs along your front wall, hitting your special spot ridiculously well. “Fuck, Yoongi, hate you and your damn dick.”

“Yeah?” His eyes are glued to the spot where you’re connected. He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing figure 8s on it, making you stutter. “Just despise how amazing I make you feel, hm?”

“U-Uh huh!”

Yoongi reclines on the couch, simply observing you bounce away, your tits jolting under your shirt. “Made you my little cockslut.”

You whimper, biting your lip, driving your hips with speed. This has you squeaking. He’s so deep inside you that his head barely kisses your cervix. “F-Fuck, Yoongi!”

He groans in response, firmly grasping your wild hips to stop you and switch positions, pinning you beneath him. He then roughly bucks into you at a rapid speed, making you cry, your pussy throbbing. You cling to the armrest for dear life, the couch creaking beneath you because of Yoongi.

“G-Gonna cum!” You arch your back and spread your legs a bit wider, moaning as you reach down and quickly rub away at your clit.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, angling himself slightly, his tip now directly slamming against your sweet spot, eliciting a wail. “Gonna cum all over my cock? Make it nice and creamy?”

“Y-Yes, oh, fuck!” You feel your high creeping up on you steadily, and you’re so, so ready to submit to that delicious euphoria. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Yoongi!”

“Not gonna until you cum, sweet thing.” He dips down and kisses you, swallowing your noises as they steadily grow louder. “Come on, puppy; I know you can do it.”

“‘M-M so close!” Your wrist is starting to ache. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! A-Ah, hah!”

You screech as your orgasm finally hits you, plunging you deep into the pool of ultimate bliss you’ve grown accustomed to. You gasp for breath, your head spinning while Yoongi slows slightly, coaxing you through your high. You screw your eyes shut, your body settling into overstimulation as his pace grows sloppier by the second.

Yoongi abruptly withdraws, and you watch as he rapidly pumps himself, hearing his low groan. Ropes of cum spurt from his tip moments later, landing on your tummy and shirt, a little even finding your face. You softly sigh, growing limp on the couch.

Yoongi momentarily leaves, returning with a damp cloth and one of his shirts in hand.

“Sorry,” he says, helping you sit up, cleaning you while you swap shirts. His tee engulfs your tiny body. “You okay?”

“Mhmm…” You tug on your panties and leggings. “You?”

He playfully scoffs. “I’m just fine.”

Yoongi straightens, grabbing your dirty shirt and heading to the door. He pauses in the doorway. He glances at you uncertainly. “Do you… wanna stay for dinner?”

His offer surprises you. “Oh… sure.”

“Okay.” With that, he leaves again.

You stay where you are, your mind replaying what happened. Yoongi asked you to stay and eat with him, and this makes you smile a bit. Although this is a FWB arrangement, he’s still respectful.

“You coming?” he calls.

“Yes!” you reply!

Maybe, just maybe… This is the start of something new.

© thekaykery 2022

#btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #btsdreamcourt #bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fics #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi fics #code: elysia

[amphiptere-art]

Humm. I've been trying to figure out how this would work. May as well just throw out the idea.

Evil blue Moon

We shall nickname them Arcane.

This is based off of the idea of a blue moon that uses there magic without pity. Eclipse's are killed mercilessly. There's no feeling behind there slaughter, and no feeling for slaughtering those around them.

They basically taught by golden the same way normal blue moon is. The only difference is that they started to resent sun and moon for how they treated them. And then they thought they found a friend. Earth. But she was a liar. She tried to control him. He wasn't having any of that. He basically forced her to remove that pesky code that made him want to stick around. And once that was done he slaughtered Sun and Moon. Slaughtering Earth also despite her pleas.

He also gained an object like the cube. Put this one made purposely crafted from a wither storm they found. Using the ball pit to explore at first. I should call this object the octagon. There is no downsides to it. They simply lets him explore the universe to his ease and by typing in simple directions. Always able to return home whenever he wishes.

They go throughout the universe trying to cleanse it of eclipses. And if you are an eclipse lover. Well you're just in his way. People slaughter the eclipse in anyone that fights for them. And due to having no morals nor the younger mentality. They are stronger and faster. Unlike other blue moon types they took the star. Deciding to finish their wish. Which for them doesn't result in a shattering. Although the merger still happens.

This Blue Moon basically wished to be powerful and strong enough to siphon whatever energy/magic they wanted and to never run out of energy. Basically cutting out the main weaknesses of blue moon. Which is their ability to run out of endurance, the moral fears of murder, And the fact that some world still have magic. Arcane works more so like a wither storm himself in the world without magic. Sucking the energy out of everything around him. Uncaring of how it affects the world.

Arcane also does not really care about hurting somebody's feeling by eating them. While they would still want to eat somebody who is deserving. If they are hungry they will simply go to a Lord world and eat the inhabitants. If they want to challenge they might stalks in the streets of a standard world. Feeding into this sense of paranoia as they scramble to figure out why their friends are disappearing and dying. He honestly finds it funny.

Due to the extreme power creep they learn magic from many places. Their room magic is about as strong as Blue Moon's and stronger. Plus without their weaknesses dragging them down. They really are quick and merciles with how they hunt. And due to not having the weakness of running out of physical energy and never have worry that they cannot fight. They can fight for years if they wanted to. Utilizing the magic they have to basically heal them over and over again.

Not to mention the star they now use. Finding it as something to give them what they want to destroy all that pains them. Usually that is in a constant healing factor. Basically the star just heals them over and over again. Sometimes though it's to give them a significant power boost or a way to remove magic. Basically unless you are holding a star arcane could simply say that your magic doesn't exist. And it will be so.

Arcane is very dangerous. You don't want to meet up with Arcane. You don't want Arcane to find your world. And you definitely don't want to fight Arcane. As even in the most advantageous situations. They will just continue to fight. Using their practically invincible overhealing to keep up and of course not getting tired. They will fight you and tell the world is nothing more than the void a wither storm usually leaves behind. You either give up and die, or let the world die with you. Now of course it's very good thing. Arcane is simply for fun, and does not exist in the reality of my head cannons. As they are simply a april fools.

#sams #tsams #tsams au #sams au #red blue and black #arcane

[mir-osik]

Magic is Here for You and Me - 1

Fandom: Triple Frontier Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Summary: While on vacation with his friends and daughter, a series of unexpected encounters makes Frankie wonder if 'happily ever after' isn't just for fairytales. Wordcount: 12.9k (Don’t look at me LOL) Rating: 18+ Minors DNI (Mostly soft given the nature of the fic, but there will be some spice at some point so just want to set my boundaries now :)) Warnings: children (Charlotte and her relationships with Frankie and the other guys feature heavily in this story so just in case kids aren’t your thing), widower!Frankie, brief mention of death post-pregnancy, mentions of grief, shorter-than-Frankie reader, eventual smut. The TF boys deserve their own warning.  Read this if you like: meet-cutes, repeated chance encounters, found family dynamics, three four men and a baby, match-making friends, tooth-rotting fluff, Disney World, vacation romances, and hot men being soft men.

Author’s Note: Takes place some years after the events of TF, there’s a minor discrepancy in when Charlotte was born, but it never comes up in the plot so we’re just going to suspend canon for it :) This is a wholly self-indulgent series and I know it won’t be for everyone. I spent a week at Disney World and saw so many hilarious interactions with children and their dads and ended up being super inspired to create an entire ‘The TF boys take Frankie’s kid to Disney World every year for her birthday’ fic and here we are! So this one’s for my Disney bishes who wish they could meet a Frankie Morales at Disney World :) Thank you in advance if you check this out, it’s my first reader fic and Pedro character fic, and I hope you enjoy it!   The title is part of a lyric from the song that plays during the current fireworks show at Magic Kingdom. P.S. Huge shoutout to Ren over at the-ginger-hedge-witch for letting me bother her with all my questions about posting reader fic, warnings, platforms and the like! She’s a gem!

Benny’s Disney World Itinerary: Chapter 1: Disney Springs Chapter 2: Epcot (7/29) Chapter 3: Animal Kingdom  Chapter 4: Rest & Recovery Part 1  Chapter 5: Hollywood Studios  Chapter 6: Magic Kingdom  Chapter 7: Rest & Recovery Part 2  Chapter 8: Epilogue

Disney Springs 

Benny has vacation planning for Charlotte Morales’ Disney World Birthday Extravaganza™ pretty much down to a science now, and thank god for it considering how disastrous the first year had been. He’d made the rookie mistake of cramming too much into too short a trip, and had grossly underestimated how much sleeping an infant actually did. 

And how cranky four grown men could get, even at the happiest place on earth. 

He’s picked up a trick or two over the last few years, like knowing how to cushion for a growing child’s unpredictable moods and naptime schedule, and accounting for the guys’ limits for theme parks and crowds. The end result has evolved into a rather solid itinerary. 

The first day in Orlando is easy, it’s always Frankie, Charlotte, and her honorary uncles checking into their resort by late afternoon. After settling in, they head over to Disney Springs — Disney World’s special retail, dining, and entertainment venue — for dinner and a little shopping. The days following are meant for the parks, with a rest day in the middle and one at the end of the trip before the flight home.

If you ask Frankie, the week is a good length of time to get the most out of not just the parks, but the vacation itself. Benny’s figured out the perfect balance of doing stuff and actually relaxing, and there’s no better remedy for all of the stress and responsibility of work and being a single dad, than having the opportunity to do absolutely nothing. 

They’re staying at Port Orleans Riverside this time, a first for them, and even he has to admit that Benny did well choosing a resort this year. The lobby is massive, the very picture of extravagance with its opulent period rugs and cherry wood furniture. Walking inside is like being transported directly back in time; he keeps expecting sharply dressed men with top hats and pocket watches tucked into their vests to round the corners, or to see women wearing hoop skirt gowns strolling across the floor, parasols clutched in hand. 

It’s silly, because they’re on vacation, but he almost feels underdressed in the faded jeans, gray t-shirt and flip flops he’d worn for the flight. Will lets out a low whistle beside him and Frankie knows without looking that he is sharing the same sentiment as he takes everything in.

Benny comes up behind them, slinging his arms around their shoulders and leaning against them with his sunglasses pushed down to the tip of his nose. The posture of a man entirely pleased with himself. 

“Go on, you can say it.”

“Say what?” Frankie asks, feigning ignorance and fighting back the little twitch of the corners of his mouth.

“That I’m amazing.”  

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Will replies, eyes dancing with mirth.

Benny is quick, tightening his arm around Will’s neck and snagging him in a playful chokehold. “Are you kidding me? For this? At the rate we got? I’ll remember that next year when I get rooms at the Grand Floridian and your wallet weeps, William.” 

Will ducks, twisting out of his brother’s grip and shoving at his shoulder lightly. He chuckles, readjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder and holding his hand up to catch the fist Benny swings in jest in his direction. 

Frankie has to give credit where credit is due, though, and he taps the bill of Benny’s hat. “You did good, Ben.” 

“Finally, someone who appreciates my efforts. Thank you, Fish.”

“I can’t work under these conditions!” Santiago calls, interrupting them. He’s several feet ahead, trying to wheel his two large suitcases and wrangle Charlotte at the same time. “Let’s go, you slowpokes!”

“Slowpokes! Slowpokes!” she giggles.

She looks like she’s doing her best to either pull Santi towards the General Store or escape the hold he’s got on her hand, Frankie can’t tell which. With Charlotte, it could be either or both.

“Why does he need two suitcases?” Will wonders, staring after them. “We’re only here for a week.”

“I’m actually concerned he only has two,” Benny mutters out the side of his mouth.

Frankie nudges him with his elbow. “What you really need to be concerned about is how long it’s going to take him to unpack.”

Will barks out a laugh at that while Benny throws his head back on an aggravated groan. 

“Fucking shit,” he grumbles.

“Come on you, knuckleheads!” 

“Yeah, knuckleheads!”

“Hey, watch that mouth, kid,” Frankie warns Charlotte. He gives Benny a sympathetic pat on the cheek before heading towards the check-in line to join her and Santiago. 

He notes that the lobby’s ceiling is high and only challenged in grandeur by a large, gleaming chandelier that hangs in the center of it. Despite the hour and the current illuminated state of the lobby, it glows warmly with light. His gaze moves to the white pillars lining the inner part of the floor, eyes tracing the ornate gold accents at the top and the thin lines of gold running down around the columns. Above the pillars, on the architrave, are the names of various Louisiana cities done up in elegant, capitalized letters that he can’t help but read while they wait.

Perhaps the most notable design feature, though, resides even further up, where decorative arch panels hide Mickey-shaped heads in plain sight. He makes sure to point them out to Charlotte, hoisting her up onto his hip when she reaches for him so she can get a better look. The way her face breaks into a grin when she recognizes the iconic silhouette serves as a sweet reminder of why they keep doing these trips.

Adjacent to the lobby entrance, a set of doors leads out onto a pier and a little marina with one dock. They were told that a manmade river runs through the entire resort, connecting it to the Port Orleans French Quarter next door. When they get out there, he sees that its waters are murky and dark, the sunlight catching on the rippling surface and making it glimmer a mysterious blue-black hue. 

Automatically, his eyes do a quick scan for gators. It’s unlikely they’ll see any; he knows the resorts have gotten really good about keeping their properties free of them, but he figures it couldn’t hurt just to be safe. He’s been out of active duty for years now, but the instinct to assess potential threats has never really gone away, especially with a small child around. If anything, having Charlotte has only continued to enhance that particular skill set.

The rest of the views are like a scene out of one of Charlotte’s picture books — cloudless blue skies, grassy riverbanks, trees everywhere. Pretty in all its greenness, magical in its tranquility. Impressive, Frankie thinks, and picture perfect. 

As if to prove his point, a very large family stops off on one of the bridges above the river, cellphones at the ready. The chaos of attempting to get everyone into frame makes him glad their own group is so small in comparison.

A cool breeze ruffles his hair, drawing his attention to the way it brushes at his cheeks and offsets the heat of the sun. With it, a sugary sweetness permeates the air and has him lifting his nose up for a deeper inhale. The smell is familiar to him — warm, buttery, comforting. 

Benny grins at him.

“Beignets,” he sighs, as if the scent alone were enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. He points in the general direction of Riverside’s sister resort. “They’ve got Mickey-shaped ones at French Quarter. We can pop in on Wednesday sometime.” 

He tosses a look at Charlotte. “What do you think, Charlie? You want some Mickey beignets?”

“Yeah!” she agrees, nodding enthusiastically.

Frankie’s fairly certain Charlotte has no clue what a beignet is, but he knows that she’s figured out that if her tío Ben is asking, it likely will involve something to her benefit — usually something sweet for them to share. 

As they keep making their way down the pier, he glances over to a quaint, brick-red water wheel attached to the end of the main building. He’s never been to the Old South, which is what the resort is meant to mimic, but he’s once again struck by how charmed he is by all the architecture, vegetation and general ambiance of the property. 

All the thoughtful little details shouldn’t surprise him. If there’s one thing Disney knows how to do, it’s create an experience.

“Daddy, look!” 

Charlie’s little gasp makes his head turn and he catches sight of a cream and blue ferry boat chugging slowly into port. It reminds him that the river serves an additional purpose: providing a water taxi service to Disney Springs. Their resort is the only one with that specific perk, a fact the front desk clerk had made it a point to boast about.

A fact that’s proven to be of extreme interest to Charlotte. She’s already begging for them to take it when they go later, her “Please, please, please, please” combined with her big puppy-dog eyes leaving Frankie and the boys little room to argue or deny her request. 

Frankie sighs exaggeratedly, matching her smile and poking at the dimple in her cheek. The twin to his. 

“If we must,” he says. 

“Yes, Daddy, we must,” she echoes, her serious tone negated by the way she jumps up and down excitedly. “Right, Tío Will?” He’s the closest in proximity to her, so his validation is naturally required.

“That’s right, French Fry, you’re the birthday girl,” Will nods indulgently. 

Charlotte catches one of Will’s hands, pleased by his answer. She keeps chattering absentmindedly at him while they walk — pointing out trees and the birds she spots in them, asking if alligators live in the river, when they can go to the pool, and if she can have a Mickey waffle for dinner.

Will is unbothered by her chattiness, he’s got patience for her in spades and is always attentive like she has the most important things to say. Even when it takes her a hundred years to get a sentence out or she repeats the same thing ten times. Frankie shakes his head in amusement, listening in on their conversation while he wheels his and Charlie’s suitcases after them.

The wood beneath their feet soon turns to pavement and rustic-looking buildings with tin roofs begin to come into view. Many of them are tucked off the main walkway, along more winding paths. They’re staying on the bayou side of the resort, so the swamp vibes are accentuated by bald cypress trees hanging over decorative ponds between the buildings. 

It wouldn’t be a Disney World trip if they didn’t get lost on at least one wrong turn on the way to the rooms. Especially with Santiago and Benny insisting they each are reading the resort maps more correctly than the other. 

“Ben, I’m looking at the map right here, I’m telling you, we have to go that way.”

“Listen old man, I’m looking at the map too and I’m telling you, it’s this way!”

“Can we go over here?” Charlotte asks innocently, smiling up at their scowls and making Will reach around to cover her mouth with his hand, effectively silencing her before she can get herself into any more trouble.

Settling in is a relatively easy endeavor once they finally get to where they need to be, the only one who ever gives them any trouble is Santi. He has a habit of unpacking his suitcase in its entirety in preparation for the week, and it tends to take an hour longer than Benny has the attention span for. With two suitcases this year, Frankie imagines it’ll be twice that.

Once Benny shoves his luggage into the corner of his own room — never to be opened until he’s rushing to get ready the next day — he meanders over to Santi’s to lay face down, spread-eagle on the bed. He lets his displeasure loose, whining into the mattress while the other man organizes his things.

“I’m hungry,” Benny complains, drawing out the vowels on the second word. 

“Ben, you’re a grown-up with a wallet, go to the General Store or the food court and grab a snack.” 

“It’s not the same!” he huffs, turning his head to watch Santi neatly stack socks, undergarments, and sleep attire inside the drawers.

“If you help me, this would go faster.”

“I would rather be eaten by the crocodile from Peter Pan.”

“Tick-Tock, Tío Benny!” Charlie chimes in.

She likes to be in there during this process too, giggling as she lays across Benny’s back and listening to Santi explain the benefits of putting things in their proper places while on a trip. It’s the same spiel he’s given since the first one they all did four years ago, but Charlotte doesn’t mind. 

Even if she doesn’t always grasp the things he tells her, she likes to listen to him talk. She always has, since she was a baby. Frankie can’t even count the number of times he had called his friend in the middle of the night with a screaming infant in the background. His apology wouldn’t even be halfway out of his mouth before Santi would just simply brush it off.

“Put the baby on the phone, Fish, before she makes herself sick.” 

He would tell Charlie stories, drowsily building fantastical worlds about whatever came to mind. Princesses. Puppies. Wizards. Anything and everything. Sometimes he’d recount shenanigans the team used to get up to, stupid shit that had Frankie chuckling quietly with nostalgia. Other times he would sing softly to her, Spanish lullabies his mamá sang to him when he was a kid himself, or Frank Sinatra or Etta James — the kid had an ear for the classics. 

There were even nights where Santi would just come over, shuffling in wearing his slippers, pjs and bathrobe. He’d look so haggard, eyes bleary and curls sticking up every which way. Wordlessly, he would take Charlotte from Frankie and sit with her in the rocking chair in the nursery, murmuring to her until she calmed down and they both fell asleep exactly where they were.

So when she still seeks him out, eager for the comfort of his voice even after all this time, Frankie knows he’s more than happy to oblige. Santi smiles at her affectionately, and then resumes his unpacking. 

Shirts, light sweaters and weather-appropriate jackets are hung up next, coordinated by color on the wall racks. He brings his own pants hangers, of course, and Benny can’t contain his eye roll when Santi pulls them out of his suitcase. Toiletries follow suit, set on the counter in the bathroom before chargers (yes, multiple) are plugged into the outlet near his nightstand. He places an umbrella on the table in the corner just in case, for unexpected rainy days. 

Meanwhile, Frankie and Will usually set aside their suitcases for later so they can catch a cab or an Uber to the closest grocery store. They like to stock up on water instead of paying for the inflated prices in the parks, plus Will always insists on grabbing some healthier snack options for Charlie to munch on, rather than giving her park food all day. 

By the time they make it back, drop off their haul, and change for dinner, Benny’s dragging Santi out of the room by headlock. The ruckus is only worsened by Charlie latching herself onto Santi’s leg koala-style. 

“Mutiny!” Benny yells.

“Mutiny!” Charlie repeats, laughing like a hyena. “Hi, Daddy! Hi, Tío Will! Tío Santi’s our prisoner and we’re pirates of the Carry-bean!”

“Good job, French Fry,” Will grins, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as he surveys the scene and her handiwork. “Don’t be afraid to use your teeth either, just like I taught you.”

Santi scowls at Will. “Carlota Xiomara Morales, do not bite me! And it’s Caribbean!”

Frankie rolls his eyes at them. There isn’t any heat behind the gesture, but he knows he needs to put an end to this chaos now, otherwise Santi will take Benny to the ground and they’ll wrestle right past their dinner reservation. He makes a show of grabbing Charlie around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder. 

“Alright, ye scallywags, it’s time to set sail.”

She giggles some more, kicking her feet while she hangs upside down. It’s an old routine, one she very much delights in, but it gets the point across and the guys all fall in line behind them, their easy banter and laughter following him and Charlotte all the way to the docks. 

When they arrive at the venue, it becomes apparent very fast that they’ve picked a busy night to head out there. Even from the docks, he can tell that the music normally playing over the speakers is muffled by the chatter of the crowd. There’s so many people, it almost feels like a park in and of itself.

If he had known it was going to be this lively, he might have suggested staying in for the evening and just ordering a pizza, but he knows the first night dinner is the only opportunity he’ll have to acclimate to the crowds and energy unique to Disney World. The frazzled parents and rowdy children, the bright-eyed first-timers and the seasoned annual pass holders, the obscenely long waits for everything — it can be a lot at times, and he always prefers to ease his way into the trip rather than diving in headfirst.   

After they disembark, Frankie takes a second to bundle Charlie into a Haunted Mansion sweater, a thoughtful early birthday gift from Will’s best friend, Jasmine. It’s bright purple with the hitchhiking ghosts screen printed on the front in black and Charlotte absolutely loves it. He already has his doubts that he’ll be able to get her to wear anything else the rest of the week. 

She holds her arms up when he’s finished, silently asking to be picked up, and it makes his heart ache sweetly in his chest. He knows these moments will fade away soon enough, so he always makes it a point to treasure them at every opportunity. 

He scoops her into his arms and settles her against his hip, pressing his lips absentmindedly to her cheek. She reaches up to rub at the spot where he kissed her, where his scruff likely tickled, and he smiles at the way her nose scrunches up at him.

“Can I have a cookie now?” she asks, giving him that doe-eyed look she knows he can’t resist. 

“If you finish your dinner.” 

They’re working on compromising. 

“Okay,” she sighs, and her pout looks so much like his, he wants to laugh.

“Okay,” he agrees, then, whispering conspiratorially, “But I bet you could get your tío Santi to get you that Little Mermaid bubble wand over there.”

He tilts his head towards the shop they’re coming up on and Charlie’s eyes light up like the Grinch before he steals Christmas. She wiggles to get down and Frankie chuckles softly as he watches her skip over to Santiago. Santi’s head tips towards her when she approaches, and from the smile on his face, Frankie knows he’s already wrapped around Charlotte’s finger before her hand even slips into his.

They're still early for their reservation at the restaurant that Will’s picked, so once they’ve secured Charlie’s bubble wand, they continue taking their time heading over there. The shops haven’t changed too much over the years, but there’s several they still frequent every visit.  It doesn’t take long for Frankie’s mood to shift. It’s easy to be affected by that buzz in the air, the kind that only Disney magic can create, and he can’t deny that he’s already starting to unwind and enjoy himself. 

Benny’s had a lot of idiotic ideas in his life, but scheduling that surprise first trip none of them had wanted to go on, forcing them to do it anyway, and turning it into an annual thing is definitely one of his better ones. 

By the time dinner finally rolls around, Frankie is famished. Their group ends up in the outdoor seating area of an Irish restaurant and pub called, ‘Ragland Road.’ The table is a little cozy for five, making it difficult to get all the plates situated; he keeps knocking elbows with Will and confusing his and Santi’s drinks, but all of that is easy to ignore when the atmosphere is so homey and comfortable.

There’s a live band in the middle of a set playing a song he doesn’t know. The beat is cheerful in a folkish, knee-slapping way, and his lack of familiarity doesn’t stop him from tapping his foot along while he eats. When he catches Charlie wiggle-dancing in her seat as she takes a bite of potato cake Santi offers to her, he smiles at the sight.

The food is delicious and judging by the nearly finished state of the other plates around the table, the others would agree. Even Charlotte eats most of her meal, a huge feat to say the least, and he deems it another win for the Miller brothers. Between the resort and the restaurant, the trip is off to a great start. 

Early into the evening, one of the staff had turned on the heat lamps strategically placed between tables, helping to ward off the nighttime chill. Frankie shed his jacket a while ago, having been warmed further by his meal and the beer he had as an accompaniment. He’s pushed his chair back a little, too, sliding down his seat so he can lean back and stretch his legs, take the pressure off his stomach. 

He can tell the day’s catching up to him. Travel fatigue, in combination with being full and content, begins to weigh on his shoulders and make his mind feel a little sluggish, like he’s watching everything from behind a fog. 

A bed sounds nice, and so does sleep for that matter, but the guys are chatty tonight and many years of experience has taught him that they’ve got at least another hour in them before calling it a day. He doesn’t mind too much; he’s happy just to sit and listen to them trade stories and laughs over another round of drinks.

They reminisce about the old days and catch up on life, not an unusual occurrence for them as they do this already at least once a week. The result of a camaraderie forged in military service and a brotherhood kept long after retirement. 

There are dinners and weekend BBQs, random visits throughout the week. Hell, even game nights if Benny can get them drunk enough. Sometimes evenings at the local dive bar, so long as Frankie can find a sitter. Still, despite the regular meetups, it’s nice to be in a different setting and away from the ‘everyday’ of their lives for once.

“Daddy, I want to go on the balloon ride!” 

Charlotte’s voice cuts through his thoughts, reminding him of the hot air balloon they’d seen earlier on their way to the restaurant. It’s been a number of years that they’ve been coming out here, but they have yet to actually ride it.

“Sorry, kid,” Santi tells her, tugging playfully on one of her curls. “The balloon ride is already closed. How about we finish coloring-”

“I don’t want to color anymore!”

Her pitch is one octave away from tantrum levels and Frankie frowns.

“Charlotte.” 

She pauses for a second, contemplates the warning tone in his voice and knows she’s toeing quite closely to a reprimand. She ends up huffing anyway, “Well, I don’t!” 

It surprises him, the way she snaps back, and it takes him a second to regroup.

“Alright,” he replies slowly, calmly. “That’s fine. You don’t have to color anymore if you don’t want to. But we can say that without yelling at people, okay?”

“That right, French Fry,” Will chimes in. “Sometimes if you yell at people, it can hurt their feelings, and you don’t want to hurt Santi’s feelings, do you?” 

She eyes the both of them stubbornly, bottom lip poking out in a pout. He can see the way her mind is weighing out the repercussions of whatever she decides to say next and it simultaneously terrifies him and fills him with so much pride witnessing how clever and astute she is even at her young age. Eventually she shakes her head and Frankie runs his hand soothingly down her hair. 

“I bet Santi would feel better if you said ‘sorry’ to him. What do you think?” 

Charlotte turns her head towards Santiago, who is doing a terrible job of trying to conceal his smile. He breaks as soon as she lifts her arms and wraps them around his neck, leaning down to draw her tighter against him. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“For?” Frankie prompts.

“For yelling.”

Santi presses a kiss to her temple and pats her comfortingly on the back. “You’re alright, pescadito. Thank you for apologizing, that’s very good manners.” 

She’s tired, he mouths to Frankie, resting his cheek on her head when she keeps close.

He gets it, travel days are difficult enough as it is for regular adults and he imagines they’re even worse for tiny humans. Plus, there’s only so much coloring a kid can do on their placemat before they start getting antsy. But now that she’s gotten a little older and her attention span has gotten shorter, he’s started to notice that his sweet little girl is becoming a bit of a pint-sized demon. 

When Charlie peeks out from her hiding spot in Santi’s neck, Benny beckons her over to him with a few crooks of his finger. 

“Carlota, mi tesoro,” he sing-songs.

Frankie smiles at that. Benny’s accent is terrible beyond belief, but Frankie appreciates the effort he and Will have been putting in to learn Spanish in their free time. 

Charlotte’s sad little pout transforms almost immediately as her tío Ben takes her hand. He gets up to twirl her beside the stage with the band’s latest tune playing in the background. Out of all of them, Benny’s always been the best at being able to redirect an impending meltdown and getting some of that energy out. Probably because he has it in equal measure. 

The knot loosens in his chest with the situation effectively diffused. Her tantrums don’t happen all the time, thankfully, but when they do, they’re definitely not fun for either of them. While he���s doing his best to parent her through this new stage in her development, he’s finding it more challenging than he anticipated.

He’s never been more grateful that he’s got extra sets of hands to help him with Charlotte than during moments like these with the guys having his back. Teaching her, guiding her, loving her as deeply as he does. Loving her as if she were their own. It truly takes a village.

Frankie grins watching Benny and Charlotte together. Her dark hair fans out around her as she spins under his arm again, and the dimple in her cheek deepening with her smile is only further sweetened by her joy. He can feel his heart light up with her bright peals of laughter and he hopes that she always feels like this: carefree, happy, cherished. That’s all he could ever want for her.

As the night winds down, and Charlotte’s energy finally begins to wane, she climbs into Frankie’s lap to snuggle into his chest. Her little cheek presses right over his heart and the easy way she makes herself comfortable against him makes him sigh happily. He’s only half-listening to Santi chat about a woman he met at a bar recently. It’s decidedly inappropriate conversation for a five year-old anyway, so he’s glad Charlie picked that moment to fall asleep. 

Her breathing evens out despite Benny’s antics and boisterous teasing over Santi’s taste in women. Or rather, the kind of women often attracted to him. 

Frankie rests his hand reflexively over the back of his daughter’s head when Benny laughs again. The gesture soothes him as much as it’s meant to soothe her and keep her with her dreams.

When he glances up, he catches Will watching them, the other man’s smile soft around his eyes. Will leans forward slightly, lifting his hand to rub his thumb over a smear of chocolate on Charlie’s cheek. 

Frankie brushes a kiss across her brow, taking in the sight of the guys around the table. They’ve been just this way hundreds of times before, hundreds more since Charlotte had come into their lives. It’s an image that is comforting in its familiarity, safe in its constancy, and he feels incredibly blessed to be celebrating another year of his daughter’s life in her favorite place, with all her favorite people. Mainly because they’re his too.

“One hundred dollars she tells you she misses you before the week is up,” Benny tells Santi, pointing a finger at him.

“She’s not like that,” Santi argues, throwing one of the leftover fries from Charlotte’s plate at his head. 

Benny ducks out of the way at the last second but Santi is anticipating him and reaches over to flick his finger against Benny’s forehead when his lean puts him within striking distance. Benny swears under his breath, swatting Santi’s hand away playfully.

“She’s sweet,” Santi continues. “But she’s got her own things going on, you know? And thank god for that.”

“I don’t know, man, you’ve got a history.”

“What do you mean, ‘a history?’ A history of what, Ben?” Santi doesn’t snap, but his eyebrows pinch together with the question.

Benny looks to Will and Frankie for back-up, a habit ingrained from their days in the field, and gestures at Santi.  

Frankie merely shakes his head and laughs quietly. “Ohh, no, no, no, no. Nope. I’m staying out of this one.”

Will shrugs beside him, and Frankie’s brow lifts in surprise as their eyes meet. It’s obvious that Will’s feeling loose-tongued tonight, and unafraid of the consequences; his smirk is all mirth as he raises his beer to his mouth for another sip. 

“What Ben’s trying to say is that you’ve got a history, Pope…” Will claps Benny on the back as if to reiterate the point. “Of dating stage five clingers.”

Santi is unfazed by that assessment, however, and he doesn’t miss a beat as he leans back and rests his hands on the back of his head. “Well, when the dick is just that good-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Frankie’s response is immediate and protesting as he covers Charlie’s ear with one of his hands. 

Will chokes on his beer, moving forward to let the fizzy liquid drip down onto the floor instead of all over him while he laughs through a coughing fit. Frankie, ever in dad mode, holds out a napkin to him with his free hand, glaring at Santi all the while. Benny just groans, dunking his fingers in his water glass before shaking the droplets at the older man. 

“Hey, man,” Frankie chastises. “This is a family establishment!”

“Family establishment!” Santi says, his eyes positively gleaming. He shifts and holds his hand out towards Charlie. “She’s asleep! She’s not gonna know!”

“Yeah, but the kids at the next table have ears, pendejo, and so do their parents!” 

Frankie has a couple more choice words for him in Spanish that make Santi snort with laughter but he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright, alright. For the sake of little ears, we’ll keep it clean.”

It takes them another minute to all settle down again, the last bits of jesting and laughter filling the air. Once they do, Santi suddenly turns serious, and his gaze falls to him and Charlie. He nods at Frankie when Frankie’s eyebrow arches up questioningly. 

“Hey, what about you, Fish, huh?” 

He stills, eyeing his friend carefully. “What about me?”

Santi’s shrug is casual but Frankie knows him better than that. 

“You think you’re ever gonna get back out there again?” 

“Out where?” He keeps his tone nonchalant, his posture relaxed despite feeling his hands beginning to grow damp.

“We know you’re not that dense, in the dating pool,” Benny speaks up, reaching across Santi to pilfer one of the uneaten pickles off Charlie’s plate and grinning like a pirate. 

Frankie wrinkles his nose at that, inhaling deeply while he thinks on his answer. Truthfully, with Charlotte getting older, the thought may have crossed his mind a few times. Albeit very fleetingly and far between. 

He reaches up, rubbing at his bottom lip with his thumb and attempting to mask his anxiety behind the casual gesture. “Honestly, I don’t know, man. I’ve been so focused on Charlotte, it hasn’t been a priority.”

Benny whistles lowly in response and Frankie’s eyes drop to the table, his composure threatening to fissure under the combined weight of their attention. His emotional wounds begin to ache at the seams, dull yet insistent despite the many years he’s had to heal, and he wonders if he even ever really did. After his wife’s unexpected and tragic passing, his whole world has been nothing but his little girl and he’s just…never needed more than that. Never allowed himself to look beyond that. 

“I mean, it’s fine. We’re doing okay just the two of us, I think.” 

“Yeah, but how long has it been? Don’t you have…needs?” Benny wonders, eyebrows arching suggestively.

“Jesus Christ, Ben,” Frankie grimaces, feeling his face warm at the sudden scrutiny of his personal life. “Look, I’m not celibate if that’s what you’re asking!”

Will chucks his crumpled up napkin at Benny’s head. “Why you so interested in Fish’s sex life, huh?”

“Yeah, is your own a little lacking there, Ben?” Santi retorts with a snicker.

Benny, predictably, rises to the occasion, defensive and boasting about his own recent conquests. Frankie’s grateful for the redirection of the conversation, but with the truth laid bare and now at the forefront of his mind, he finds himself distracted from the rest of their heckling.

Sure, there’s been the occasional fling here and there, some one night stands just to scratch the itch, but nothing ever serious, and certainly not serious enough to disrupt Charlie’s life with.

Besides, Frankie’s grown quite comfortably into this version of his life without romantic love. He’d had to pivot in a way he’d never imagined, from husband and new father in one breath, to widower and single dad in the next. His entire world had plunged into a tailspin, and he’d nearly lost himself in the turbulent spiral of his shock and incomprehensible grief. 

There had been many days where he just didn’t know how he was going to make it, where trying to balance the loss of her with raising their newborn child was too much to bear. She was his match, the love of his life, his partner in every way, and the abrupt absence of her had been debilitating, his heartbreak suffocating. He could never seem to catch his breath, choking on the air trapped in his lungs until they started to burn, until they felt near exploding, and even then, simply enduring.

Anything could set him off: seeing her toothbrush in the holder next to his, realizing he poured two cups of coffee in the morning instead of one, her favorite song on the radio. Even Charlotte smiling for the first time. That was perhaps the most difficult, all the little things and all the big things she’d missed and would continue to miss where their daughter was concerned. 

But even in that darkness, even with all that despair, the light had always been Charlotte. She could steady him with a look, ground him with the grasp of her tiny hand around his finger, soothe him by simply needing him in the ways that infants need someone to care for them. To be fed, changed, held, loved. 

And so he did. 

And bit by bit she’d forced him to piece the broken shards of himself together. It hadn’t been easy and some of the pieces never really fit back properly, the remaining shapes made too small by his unending pain or too big by his lingering rage, but what had remained of himself he’d simply given wholly to her. He’d endeavored to be the kind of father she deserved, the kind of man her mother would have been proud of.

Some days it almost felt wrong to keep living the way that they had, to keep having those little slivers of happiness — her first steps, her first birthday, her first word (“dada”) — when half of Frankie’s heart was missing. He knows that’s what she would have wanted, but it never made it any easier. 

There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest now, soothed only mildly by their daughter’s weight against him. He rarely speaks her name aloud anymore, but he still thinks of her everyday. 

Time has stolen so much from him, though. It’s just…the shape of her in his memory now. An image no longer as crisp or clear as it once had been, the tangibility of her — her smell, her touch, her voice — all things he can barely remember anymore. But she still exists in other ways. 

Snapshot moments in his mind, seconds of the life they once shared. Her smile the first time he tried to flirt with her. Her eyes welling with tears when he slipped her wedding band onto her finger. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed too hard. How pretty she looked in his t-shirts with her lips kiss-swollen and hair all mussed from his fingers. 

She hated folding clothes even though she didn’t mind washing them. 

She liked paperbacks over hardcovers, but disliked creased spines. 

She played Sudoku like a champ. 

She used to order onion rings as the side with her burger despite preferring fries because he liked onion rings more. His own were never enough, and he didn’t figure that out until after she was gone.

He thinks back to Santi’s question again, turning it over and over in his mind. The answer remains elusive, and perhaps it always would be. But that’s probably for the best. 

He’s already experienced a big, big love once, and maybe once is all he gets. Maybe once will just have to be enough. 

It would save him some disappointment, at least. Preemptively stave off any potential heartbreak — not just his, but Charlie’s as well. He couldn’t put them through something like that again. Not after everything they’ve been through.

He glances around at the table again, rubbing a hand over Charlie’s back. He’s not even sure what the guys are talking about anymore, but their laughter feels like a salve for his reopened wounds. So does Charlotte’s quiet snores. 

And if this is all he gets for the rest of his life, this brotherhood, this camaraderie and family, and the generous love of his kid…he could be okay with that, he thinks. 

Later, as they’re headed back to the resort for the night, Santi elbows him lightly in the ribs to get his attention and he turns his head towards his friend.

“Hey, about earlier,” Santi says quietly, just between the two of them. “Sorry if we overstepped.”

Frankie shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, Pope, it’s fine.”

“For what it’s worth, Fish, you and that kid deserve the world, and whatever that means for you, whatever that looks like, we’re always gonna have your back.”

“But?” 

“What do you mean ‘but,’ there’s no ‘but.’”

“With you, Pope, there is always a ‘but,’” he smiles.

Santi rolls his eyes at him. “Alright, but…” 

He trails off, inhaling deeply. Instinctively Frankie braces for the blow.

“You deserve a second chance at love. Juliana would want that for you.” 

Santi shrugs then, clapping him lightly on the back. The gesture is meant to be casual, but Frankie feels the pressure of it all the same, just as he feels the heaviness of hearing Juliana’s name spoken out loud. A punch to the gut that has his hold tightening around Charlotte’s small frame. 

“You’re a good dad and a good man, and some women find you easy on the eyes, though I can’t imagine why-” 

Frankie reaches out with his fist, knocking Santiago lightly against his jaw and making him laugh as he maneuvers out of reach.

“I’m just saying, you’ve got a lot of stuff going for you still. It couldn’t hurt to see what’s out there! You might be surprised.”

Frankie hums noncommittally at the advice, adjusting his daughter in his arms as they approach the buses meant to shuttle them back to the resort.

“Yeah, maybe someday,” he mumbles, more for Santi’s benefit than his. 

But he couldn’t have known that maybe that day was closer than he realized.

You love Disney World, truly, you do. But it’s almost criminal that there’s this many people at Disney Springs on a Monday night. Particularly during what should have been one of the least busiest weeks to go. It’s well after the holiday rush of Christmas and New Year’s but it doesn’t appear like everyone’s gotten the memo. 

Bus after bus comes to take people back to their resorts and your little group of four frustratingly continues to end up on none of them. The line is moving, though. You can tell simply because eventually you’ll realize you’re in a different place in it than you were ten minutes ago. 

Closer to the front, but somehow still not close enough to get on an actual shuttle. It imitates a park ride wait so perfectly, like an adult version of ‘Are we there yet?’ except you are both the impatient child and the irritated parent.

Disney magic at its finest. 

“Is there a single rider option for this?” Your best friend, Taylor, mutters under her breath from her place behind you. 

The question makes your mouth twitch at the corners, but as another bus pulls away from the curb, and another round of disappointed sighs and quiet grumbling goes up through the crowd, you can’t help but agree with the sentiment. At this point, you wouldn’t mind standing so long as you actually get back to the resort soon. Tomorrow is your first day in the parks and you and your friends are all eager to shower the day off before going to bed and resting up. 

There’s little else to do while you wait for the next ride so you reach into your bag for your phone to check the time. You have to plan for tomorrow, calculate exactly how many hours you have until you have to get up. The number determines your sleep schedule and whether you do the long or shortened version of your nighttime routine, especially because you still have to decide on an outfit and allot time for getting ready in the morning. Oh, and making a coffee and breakfast run.

Your fingers dig around inside the purse, brushing against crumpled receipts, a tube of lip balm, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer before you frown. 

Huh. That’s weird.

You grasp the bag, pulling it further in front of you so you can actually see while you’re rifling through it. Every item you know to be in there is mentally checked off as you touch each one: wallet, passport, some loose change from when you paid cash for a water bottle at the airport convenience store, dinner and shopping receipts, lip balm, sanitizer. 

Everything is all accounted for; everything, that is, except your phone. 

“Shit,” you mutter. 

The panic hits you quick and sharp. You try to tamper the feeling down but it’s too late, you’re already on edge and the way your stomach clenches tells you that you’re spiraling fast. This is the very last thing you need on the first day of your trip, your mind racing with thoughts of fraudulent charges, emptied bank accounts, and scam emails being sent to your entire address book. 

And what the hell are you going to do if you need to have all your cards canceled while you’re out here?

One of your other friends, Sasha, gives you a quizzical look as you start patting yourself down. Your movements are frantic, hands flitting between your jacket pockets, jean pockets and back on a second pass just to be sure.

“You okay?” she wonders, her voice concerned. 

Your eyes flit downwards in a frenzied scan across the pavement as you search between people’s feet on the off-chance you may have simply dropped it. But then in your periphery you catch sight of a young boy just as he drops a piece of chocolate. It lands by his shoe and he’s quick to lean down for it, but his mother’s reflexes are quicker. She grabs onto his arm before he can take it back and attempt to put it in his mouth. 

Shit. The Ganachery.

You can see it so clearly in your mind, how you’d been taking photos of the chocolate in the displays before setting your phone down on the counter when one of the employees came by and offered a sample. Absentminded and careless and entirely your mistake. 

“I left my phone at The Ganachery,” you sigh, the sound frustrated and grouchy as your fingers press into your temple where you can feel a headache starting to brew.

“What?” Taylor leans over your shoulder, her ears ever sharp. Automatically, her gaze drops to the ground as well. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t have it.”

“You checked your pockets? What about your jacket? Your bag?”

She means well, logically you know this, but there’s nothing more irritating when you’re on the verge of a minor crisis than someone trying to tell you to do the things you’ve already done. Another agitated sigh escapes between your lips. 

“I have to go back,” you announce, wasting no time unclipping one of the ropes helping to designate the boarding line for the buses so you can slip out of line.

Reese, the fourth in your friend group, pokes her head out from behind Sasha’s. Her phone already tucked to her ear, no doubt attempting to call yours. 

“I’ll go with you, so you don’t have to be alone on the way back.”

You wave her off. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be quick. I’ll meet y’all back in the room!” 

But Reese is insistent, saying your name in protest.

“Seriously, it’s okay! Just save me some hot water!” you tease, hoping your easy tone placates her.

She cups her hands around her mouth so her voice carries and you don’t miss the instruction. “Fine, but text when you find it and are on your way back!” 

You give her a thumbs up before you turn, speed walking out of sight and back into Disney Springs. In all the years that you’ve been coming out here, you’ve never lost anything once, let alone something as important as your phone. It’s hard not to beat yourself up over it, your anxiety a heavy weight in your stomach as you make your way against the flow of traffic. 

There’s a startled ‘Oof!’ that reaches your ears when you inadvertently bump into someone, but it does little to slow you down. All you can manage is a hurried ‘Sorry!’ while you breeze by. You miss the way they turn after you when you go, only left with the vague sense that you’d run into some guy in a hat holding a kid. Oh well, fingers crossed he’d at least heard your apology.  

Your frayed nerves only begin to calm once the shop’s sign finally comes into view, and it pushes you to jog the last few steps, bursting through the double door entrance in dramatic fashion. The irresistible scent of sweetened cocoa slams into you, but it’s the looks from the employees and other customers that stop you in your tracks.  

“Hi,” you greet the person behind the register, the word breezy and rushed as it trips out of your mouth. You recognize them, but aren’t sure if they recognize you. “Sorry, I was just in here about fifteen minutes ago with my friends. Did you happen to find a-”

“Phone?” The device is held up in their hand with a cheerful smile.

“Yes. Thank you so much!” Your shoulders sag with immediate relief. “You’re a lifesaver!”

“No problem, I was hoping you’d notice before you went back to your resort. Your friend called to let us know you were on your way to grab it.” 

You cringe with mild embarrassment while you approach the register and your phone gets passed to you. Of course Reese did, she is notorious for being the ‘Mom friend’ of the group.

“Have a good night!” they say cheerfully, waving goodbye at you. 

With your phone safely clutched to your chest, you back into one of the doors and push it open with your hip to leave. Now that you’ve caught your breath and the adrenaline is slowly working its way out of your system, your walk back to the shuttles is at a much more leisurely pace. 

You notice the crowd has thinned out some since you had come through just minutes before, and that only the last stragglers looking to close out Disney Springs remain. You figure they’re staying to either make the night last just a little longer or wait for a less cramped ride back to their resorts. If you weren’t looking to catch some extra sleep, you might have entertained the latter yourself. 

To your surprise, the boarding area for the Port Orleans resorts is much less crowded than when you had left earlier too. After you’ve shuffled your way back into line, you predict that the likelihood of you actually getting to sit for the ride back is looking pretty good, and though that comfort is merely just a little thing, sometimes the little things make all the difference.

You pick a seat near the front as you enter, planning ahead for easy access to an exit when it’s time to get off later, and busy yourself with your phone while you wait for other passengers to board and settle in. 

The group chat is popping, 67 messages waiting for you as indicated by the red bubble on the top corner of your app. It’s mostly the other girls sharing photos from the day, with the occasional snarky text about Sasha’s horrible photography skills and Taylor’s obsession with food aesthetic photos. 

You skim the rest of the messages, making a mental note to add your own photos later and to look at and save all the others at some point. At the bottom, Reese’s ‘Are you on your way back?’ is waiting for you and you let them know that you’re on the bus now and will be at the resort soon. A series of messages come in rapid-fire succession.

Sasha Vasiliev  Be safe!

Reese Fraser Don’t talk to strangers!

Taylor Crawford Absolutely talk to strangers if they’re cute! 

You shake your head at their antics, but the way your mouth curves up betrays your amusement. You’re just about to respond when a deep voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Guess it’s standing room only.” 

It’s honey-sweet and slow as molasses, and when it hits your ears, you glance up without thinking. 

Piercing blue eyes the color of seaglass meet your gaze, and then the owner of them smiles. You blink in surprise as you take in the rest of him, as you are caught off guard by his blatant attractiveness.  ‘Hollywood Handsome,’ Taylor would say, with his dimpled smile and perfectly disheveled sandy-blonde hair that’s just edging towards brown. 

His eyes light up at your expression and you don’t miss the way he gives you a flirtatious once-over. 

“Hi,” he greets — all of the charm he can muster in that singular word — and slows his gait as he moves past you.

Oh, here we go.

Your own smile is small, polite, but you don’t say anything back, not wanting to encourage him. 

The man behind him claps him on the back, drawing your attention and making you start. He’s older — if the silver woven through his dark hair and beard is any indication — and about half a foot shorter but no less striking.

Although ‘striking’ doesn’t seem to be a big enough word. Not for the classical angles of his face or dimples in his cheeks that have turned to creases with age. Not for his sharp eyes, rich like dark mahogany wood, or the crinkles at the corners of them.

He gives his companion a light push towards the middle of the bus where there’s space to stand. 

“Leave the pretty girl alone, Ben,” he says, winking at you. 

“What? I was just saying ‘hi,’' Ben replies. 

He sounds innocent enough, but you’re not entirely convinced. Apparently, neither is his friend.

“Mmhmm, sure you were.”

After Ben moves as far in as he’s able, he turns and leans against one of the bars flanking the steps to the elevated seats in the back. One of his hands is full of shopping bags, the other slides into one of the pockets of his jeans, and his feet cross at the ankles while he waits for the bus to finish loading. It speaks to his confidence, how comfortable he is in his skin. The kind of man who takes up space not because he can — or should, or wants to — but because he just does. 

He never drops his head, his posture, or his gaze for that matter, and as if on cue, it sweeps briefly over to you again. He beams when he catches you watching him and he gives you a little nod in acknowledgement, a little wiggle of his eyebrows with that relaxed smile. 

You look away, electing to ignore his easy affection. Connecting with a random guy during vacation isn’t at the top of your priority list, regardless of if it’s just a little harmless flirting. There’s only three f-words you’re here for: food, fun, and friends.

Speaking of friends, a quick scroll through social media shows that the girls have already started posting some of the photos from the group chat. You distract yourself with them, examining each post and liking them as you go.

You’re just about to comment on one when past the side of your phone, you see a man’s boot-clad feet step into the space in front of you. You groan inwardly, preparing to tough out the bus ride with a stranger’s crotch in your face. He doesn’t move, though, keeps his hip to you and you’re grateful that he at least has the manners and decency not to angle himself in your direction. You keep your eyes averted anyway.

“Daddy?” a little girl asks sleepily. 

The sound comes from directly above you.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs. 

“I wanna sit.” 

It’s not a whine, but it may as well be. 

“Sorry, mijita, we gotta stand for now. Just for a bit, okay?”

“No,” she answers. “I wanna sit.”

Oh, you know that tone. You’ve been around Disney World kids long enough to recognize when a tantrum is impending, and realizing there will be no opportunity for escape due to proximity, you brace yourself for the full force of her inevitable outburst.

“You want me to take her?” you hear another man offer. He’s standing beside him, just to the right of you. 

It takes everything in you not to look up and watch the scene unfold. Apart from it being impolite, you can already sense the stress and embarrassment from the dad. The last thing the poor guy needs is another pair of eyes on him.

“No, it’s alright, I’ve got her,” he answers. 

He whispers to her in Spanish, too low for you to really hear, but instinctively you know it’s meant to calm her down just by the soothing timbre of his voice.

“Papá!” she grumbles, a few octaves higher now.

“Carlota,” he tsks. 

And oh, you know that tone, too. 

“There’s no place to sit. I’m sorry but we have to stand. It’s just for fifteen minutes-”

“I’m tired.” 

You can make out the exhaustion in her voice as well as the frustration over not getting her way, and you feel for the kid. Big feelings for a little person; though you know not everyone will be as understanding. Or as patient. 

That’s the only thing you hate about Disney World’s transportation service. It’s complimentary, yes, and hugely convenient for getting around their massive property, but making people stand and cramming the bus to breathing room only, is a bit excessive and torturous for people to have to endure. Little ones especially.

“I know, Charlotte,” he sighs. “You hang on to me and go back to sleep-”

“I wanna sit now!”

The words explode out of her, sudden and shrill, making the bus go abruptly quiet as all of the air is sucked out of the small space. 

And then the waterworks start — deep, howling wails that pierce your ears and go straight to your head. You wince inwardly and take a peek up at her dad. 

Your first thought, humiliatingly, is: holy hell because you certainly weren’t expecting the little zing of attraction that jolts down your spine just from the sight of his profile.

Your second thought, more appropriately, is: how can I diffuse this situation? 

On a whim, you tap him lightly on the arm while he continues to try to pacify his child. His head jerks at the contact, turning towards your direction with an expression that can only be described as equal parts shame and dread. It looks out of place on his handsome face. 

He stills when he sees you, regarding you with his deep, deep brown eyes. There’s a flicker of something in them, too quick for you to really discern. Then his whole demeanor softens apologetically, apprehensively, as if he is expecting a confrontation and dreading it. The fact that this would be his first reaction makes your insides warm with empathy. 

“Hi,” you start, beginning to rise from your seat. 

He shuffles away to give you a little more space to move, rocking his child all the while. She hasn’t stopped crying so you make sure to raise your voice a little in order to be heard over her. 

“Forgive me for eavesdropping but…you’re welcome to have my seat.”

He blinks at you, mouth falling slightly open. “What?”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m happy to stand.” 

You give him your most friendly smile and hope your voice sounds cheerful despite its volume. But his head shakes resolutely. 

“No, Miss, please, I can’t let you do that-”

“Really, I insist! I mean, we’re about to head out so…” you trail off, gesturing at the bus driver sliding into his own chair. 

You smile again — disarming, encouraging. He continues to look horrified at your suggestion, but between his screaming kid, the irritated looks of the other passengers, and the time he doesn’t have to argue properly, there’s really no other option than to do as you’ve offered. 

Maneuvering around you is a little bit of an awkward shuffle, bodies bumping and brushing despite the attempts at propriety in such close quarters. You try not to think about how there seems to be so much of him, just…tall, broad, man tangled up in your space. Eventually he gets to where he needs to, and eases down onto the bench. 

It’s a tight squeeze for the width of his shoulders between the other two passengers who had been on either side of you, but he manages to make it work. You have the fleeting thought that Taylor would rate him a ‘15/10 Hot Dad’ on that feature alone. Shamelessly, you might be inclined to agree. 

At least in the privacy of your mind.

Almost immediately, his daughter’s crying abates. Her sniffles and occasional hiccups are the only remaining evidence of her outburst. She snuggles deeper into his chest, cheek laying over his shoulder, one of her hands clutching the front of his shirt.

She’s a cutie — cherub-cheeked, with curling chestnut-colored hair and a sweet little button-nose. Her eyes match his, and they’re already starting to droop, heavy with sleepiness.

“Thank you,” he says, and you can tell he’s sincere in his gratitude by the intent way he stares up at you and oh boy. 

You don’t know how it’s possible to feel a look, but you feel that one. All the way down to your fingers and toes you feel it. 

“You’re welcome,” you answer softly, swallowing the lump that’s suddenly formed in your throat. 

Without a fussy child between you, distracting you, your attention turns to other things. Like the scruff along the sharp line of his jaw, and the neatly trimmed mustache sitting under a prominent nose. The facial hair’s a good look on him, you think; it saves him from appearing too baby-faced. He’s got a baseball cap on his head that is doing a horrible job of containing all of his wavy brown hair, but that’s a good look on him too.

It’s the eyes that really get you, though — kind and soulful, warm like smoky quartz. 

You glance away when your skin starts to tingle, in need of respite from the full-force of his attention. It’s just your luck that his attention is replaced by his companion’s, the one who asked if he needed a hand with his kid earlier. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, rugged.  

He has a full beard, hair almost down to his shoulder with half of it pulled back into a messy knot. He’s got a way about him that’s unnervingly intimidating; it contrasts with the gentle smile on his face, the cute braid that starts at his temple and is tucked back into the tie, and you can’t help but stare in bewilderment at him. 

It would appear you are four for four on meeting gorgeous men tonight. Must be something in the water.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply back, suddenly shy. He makes you feel like you need to fill the space with something other than his considering look but nothing will come to mind. 

“Next stop, Port Orleans!” the driver abruptly calls out, pulling your thoughts away and saving you from continuing your awkward exchange with him. 

There’s about a half second lag before the doors all close with a loud hiss and the driver hits the gas, making the bus jerk aggressively away from the curb. You grasp onto the strap dangling above your head as a reflex, but horrifyingly, you have no time to brace yourself. 

The sharp movement disrupts your balance and you pitch forward with a sharp gasp — straight into Hot Dad — and the only thing stopping you from smashing your boobs into his face is the grip you manage to get on his shoulder, and his own steadying hand on your hip. 

His very large, very strong hand.

You hover over him, so close you can’t help but catch the scent of his cologne — fresh and clean with a little hint of musky sweetness. It makes your head spin, traps the air in your lungs as your heart starts kicking against your ribcage, the harsh thump, thump, thump a resounding echo in your ears. 

The edge of the brim of his hat lightly brushes over your cheek when his face tilts up to look at you, and your whole body heats up when your gazes meet again. It’s…strangely intimate, curiously familiar all at once, and that same spark of attraction from earlier unfurls in your stomach, like a flower blooming under the sun’s glowing rays. 

It is a reaction your body most certainly has no business having. 

“Sorry,” you tell him, the word rushing out of you breathlessly. 

Then the lights inside the vehicle go out, abruptly turned off and plunging you into darkness. The blessed safety of it where you’re able to avoid the intensity of his eyes. Still, you know little relief, your heightened sense of touch proving to be the next dilemma to contend with, specifically because you’re still holding onto him. 

And he’s still holding onto you. 

The singular sensation of the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin through your clothes, knocks you off kilter more than the driver’s heavy foot. You make it a point to pull away.

“You alright?” he asks when you do, voice gruff in a way that makes your cheeks heat and your palms clammy.

Your laugh is airy as it passes between your lips, full of nerves you hope he doesn’t pick up on. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But you notice he doesn’t remove his hand until you’re stable on your feet. 

“Sorry,” you repeat, trying to give him some room despite really having none to spare. You angle your body away from him, towards the front of the bus, and grip the strap like a lifeline. Your heartbeat is still thrumming in your head. “And sorry if I step on you or something. I swear these things are a death trap.”

He chuckles at that. “It’s okay, that’s why I’ve got steel-toed boots.” 

The joke is lame, but you find yourself smiling at it anyway. 

Trying to maintain your equilibrium is the most challenging part of the ride, nothing short of a herculean endeavor, especially with the way the driver takes the turns. You spend the next fifteen minutes obsessively conscious of the way your leg keeps accidentally knocking his knee on every break and acceleration of the bus. Apologies seem a little redundant at this point, though, so you keep them to yourself. But they still weigh heavy on your tongue. 

It’s probably the most peculiar experience you’ve ever had on a Disney World shuttle, and you can’t say that you aren’t relieved when the Port Orleans French Quarter signage appears through the window. French Quarter is the first stop on the route which means your own stop is coming up quite soon.   There are several drop-off locations on the Riverside route, but the lights at the main unloading area at the front of the resort are the brightest and most sobering. You blink against the sting of them while the bus pulls in, wincing when the interior lights flicker back to life again too and amplify the brightness. It takes your vision a few moments to adjust to normal and you drop your hold on the strap in the interim. 

Oww. 

The ache in your shoulder is instant, the muscles tense all the way down your arm. Hell, even your fingers feel stiff. You tilt your head from side to side, stretching out your neck and resisting the urge to reach across yourself and rub at the sore spot on your shoulder. With your luck, you’ll elbow Hot Dad in the face in the process. 

Feet and bodies begin to shuffle about, the rustle of shopping bags and backpacks and other items filling the air as passengers eagerly prepare to disembark. Out of habit, you reach for your phone. You mean to look at the time but the screen blinks with a text message notification instead. It’s from Reese, undoubtedly checking on you. 

And grounding you in a really needed way.

Food, fun, friends, you remind yourself. 

When it’s time to go, you don’t bother to say goodbye to Hot Dad or spare him a second glance. Whatever spell this whole situation had previously cast on you is effectively broken. Whatever you’d felt in those moments, gone. With the reality of being back at the resort, he becomes just another face, another stranger in a huge crowd of them visiting the parks and being on vacation. You bet you won’t even see him again anyway. 

You step off the bus, thanking the driver on your way despite his horrible driving and smiling when he wishes you a good evening. The temperature’s dropped even more since you left Disney Springs, and it makes you shiver as you begin the trek to your room. It feels good, even if your fingers are cold. You inhale the crisp air deeply, allowing it to fill your lungs before you exhale just as thoroughly.

If you’ve timed it correctly, the girls should just about be finished with their showers, which means you can get to yours as soon as you get to the room. Maybe even cram in a face mask after. If you hustle, you might just be able to fall asleep before Taylor too — she snores but will never admit it, and sometimes it’s difficult to fall asleep once she gets going.

You make it inside the lobby, past the doors that lead back outside to the little marina, and almost halfway across the bridge before you hear the distinct sound of jogging feet on the wood. 

“Hey, wait up!” someone calls, and you turn out of reflex, before you can think better of it.

Your brows lift in surprise, particularly since you’d already convinced yourself the bus was all you were going to get.

“Hey,” Hot Dad greets when he catches up to you. His smile is sweet, if a little sheepish.

Attraction flutters insistently in the back of your mind, beating its little wings rebelliously against the rational voice trying to stress that you are on vacation — at Disney World — and don’t have time for any more of the indulgent thoughts swirling around in your head.

Especially about a stranger and a father no less. He could be married or otherwise attached. He could be a murderer, the nice guy act simply just a ruse. Hell, he could be a married murderer even. Okay, the last two might be a tad dramatic, but you’ve watched too many true crime documentaries and you know that sometimes you just never know. 

“Hey,” you say back, noting that he is sans kid. 

A flicker of movement behind him captures your attention and you lean out past his shoulder to get a better look. You instantly recognize Ben from the bus, along with his dark-haired friend. They’re just outside the doors of the dinning hall, next to the lobby entrance, standing together like they’re waiting around for something. Then you see that Ben is holding Hot Dad’s daughter, swaying tenderly and rocking her in his arms, and oh, they’re waiting for him. 

Ben has the cheekiness to give you a little wink this time when he realizes you’re looking, and you’re 99% convinced he gets just about anything he wants with all that charm. Blondie joins them a second later, walking out the door with a bag from the general store clutched in his hand. He doesn’t wave but his curious gaze remains trained on you.

The dark-haired one does wave despite being semi-distracted with his phone, pacing around slightly with it pressed to his ear. His hand falls to his waist and you cant your head curiously. There’s an intriguing air about that one, like he’s fully in control of every situation at any given moment. Someone used to giving orders but not necessarily taking them. Suave, confident, a touch sophisticated. Like he would exude that same kind of power in a t-shirt as he would in a suit. 

Seeing them all together is something of a sight and a bit of an enigma. Four men, all with differing dispositions, all gorgeous in their own ways. You haven’t figured out the connection yet, how the four of them are linked and bound together. But you just get the sense that they are.

“I knew Huey was with you,” you tell him. “But I didn’t realize Dewey and Louie were too.” 

Confusion flashes across his face until he turns to follow where your line of sight had been. It takes him a second, and then he’s tilting his head back, a bright laugh rumbling out of him at your reference to Donald Duck’s triplet nephews. The sound is pretty in the night air, and the unexpected pleasure of being able to draw it out of him lights like a sparkler in your chest.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he grins, turning back to you. 

The corners of his eyes crinkle and a deep dimple winks to life in his cheek. It makes his face even sweeter. 

He stands there watching you for a time after, and that look from the bus crosses his face again, like he’s working out an answer to a question only he knows. You start to shift your weight from foot to foot, self-conscious, unsure of what to do as the silence stretches on and the air pulses between you — all shimmering heat and endless possibilities. You tug your bottom lip into your mouth, chewing on it nervously, and it’s not lost on you that his eyes are drawn briefly to the action. 

You swallow thickly.

“Did you, um…need help with something?” you finally ask, trying to ignore the pull to him you can’t seem to shake.

That seems to break him out of his trance and he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, suddenly shy. 

“So hey, listen…I just wanted to thank you again for what you did back there.” He gestures behind him with his free hand, in the general direction of the shuttle drop-off. “It was really nice and you- you didn’t have to. I appreciate it and I’m sure the other passengers did too.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. I was happy to help. I get grumpy when I’m tired, too, so I understand.” 

You shrug and give him a playful scrunch of your nose that eases the tension in his shoulders and makes that cute little dimple appear again. 

“Well, I’ve uh…gotta get back to my room,” you say softly when your cheeks start to warm from his unwavering gaze. “Early day tomorrow and all.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course.” He rubs at his jaw, fingers grazing over the scruff as he thinks on something. “I’d offer to walk you but, I know we just met and you probably don’t want a stranger to know where your room is…but, if you did want someone to walk you, it’s the least I could do.”

His rambling is terribly endearing but he’s right on all counts. “Thanks, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I’ll be alright. I’m pretty close anyway- oh! And I hope your daughter gets some rest.” 

His lips curve at that. “Thanks, me too. Thank you for everything else. Again.” 

You raise your hand in a parting wave. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” he murmurs back.  

And it suddenly dawns on you that this could very well be the last time you ever see him. There’s a disappointed twinge in your gut that shouldn’t be there but is and it’s silly, but still very difficult to ignore as your feet start to carry you backwards. Your body is reluctant to turn away, your eyes unable to resist taking their fill of him — just one last, long, harmless look before you go. 

“Wait!” 

He says it just as you start to turn away and it makes you pause. You glance over your shoulder with one of your eyebrows raised expectantly at him. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m Frankie, by the way.”

You know what he’s inviting by giving you his name — the choice to give yours back. What’s the harm, right? It wouldn’t change anything. You could tell him your name and it wouldn’t mean anything. 

Instead, you give him another smile, the corners of your lips tugging up. 

“Have a good vacation, Frankie.”

He shakes his head at you, amusement clear on his stupidly adorable face as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks back onto his heels. 

“You too.” 

This time, you force yourself to go, to keep your eyes ahead and your feet moving. 

If you hadn’t, you might have seen the way he’d taken an unconscious step after you before catching himself, or the way his gaze had lingered on your form until you disappeared across the bridge.

The walk back to your room isn’t much further, just beyond the second bridge and right on the main path. Lucky for you since your mind is far too distracted for anything more than running on autopilot. You’re caught in a memory loop, incessantly replaying the night’s events over and over in your head.

You’ve read too many romance books, listened to too many love songs, seen too many romance movies. Have grown too fond of fairy tales and happily-ever-afters with their neat little ribbons and dainty bows on top.

You are on vacation, you remind yourself one more time, and you cannot romanticize a meaningless moment between yourself and a random stranger. One you are never going to see again. But even as you retreat from the bubble of that chanced encounter on the bus, and the subsequent exchange at the bridge, somehow, that man with his quiet demeanor and his sweet smile sticks with you.

End Notes: Re: Charlotte’s nicknames A ‘fry’ is a baby fish pescadito also translates to ‘baby/small fish’ mi tesoro means ‘my treasure’

Thank you so, so much for reading and joining the TF boys for vacation ;)

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #santiago garcia #will miller #benny miller #my writing #mihfyam

[wiroxi]

I'm delusional so this is a small essay on why I think my really self indulgent poly ship would work (sorry in advance if there are any grammar mistakes:P)

Lux/Cait/Sera/Jinx/Gwen essay

(penta ship essay)

(lightcannon) It all started with lux/jinx it works for obvious reasons star guardian and you really got me going music video XD

(sonic boom) then there is Sera/jinx jinx has been through so much pain and trauma that she deserves love and affection but most importantly understanding. Sera didn't experience anything even close to what jinx has been through but she can feel what she feels and help her with understanding all those emotions. also jinx could build something for her to help with the noise and they probably would just build stuff together. Also they both kinda hear voices.

(pistolwhip) With Cait/jinx it depends on where they star as enemy's or strangers but no matter with one it is they just have a lot in common they always wanted to be understood, they where outcasts and only had one friend to relay on. Both of them like guns and at the beginning of the series powder just wanted to help, it didn't change it's just who she's helping and with what means.

(snip shot)Gwen/jinx is very similar to Sera/jinx Gwen can see people for what they really are not the masks they put on she help jinx with her emotions and she can also offer an escape, Because she travels so much she can take jinx to many places meet other people with similar problems like her's and sometimes just help her forget (even if just for a second) all the bad things that she's seen and done.

Now the others

(Shining star) Lux/Cait I like to think they know eachother not really well they talked on some party's but since they hate who they really are for the public image. But one day them and Jinx meet and Jinx just brings out the real them they see how beautiful the other is when honest and it helps being more honest with both themselves and others so they bond over that they can help eachother be more open show their true selves without fear because why care what people think when you have your loves

(laze show) Sera/Lux work really well even with the "lux is crazier" tag Sera did fall for jinx at this point it's a plus. Sera can help lux with all her bottled up emotions and her fear of her own magic while lux can help with Sera's so she has better control and it all can be a bit more quiet. Also their characters would just fit they would definitely lean on to earth other.

(sharp song) Sera/Cait is a interesting one because Cait is Sera's fan and would be freaking out at first but as they would get to know eachother she would be less fangirlie and as she was being more herself around her I think Sera would start to admire and maybe slowly fall in love with Cait's passion and drive to achieve her goals. And Cait loves Sera's determination, how she cares so much and how she knows to make a visible change between the people of Piltover and Zaun

Gwen was the hardest to tie to all of them and honestly only had a good one for Lux. I mostly worked of of voice lines and Gwen is kinda a bad bitch

(hollow note) Gwen/Sera "A stage, a voice, is that really all you are?" "A pretty voice, Seraphine. What a shame that's all you were." I will just ignored the second voice line cuz as I said Gwen really sees people for who they are so she knows that there is more to her then just her perfect idol

(golden thread) Gwen/lux just like with jinx Gwen sees lux's pain, fear and the way she hides who she really is. Gwen want's her to understand her pain and work on it instead of hiding it "You seem happy, Lux, but you know pain too. Why deny it?" "No running from pain, Lux. Next time, shine through it."

(royal blues) Gwen/Cait this is just an idea but maybe Gwen could help Cait not to break her back working, and that she should enjoy her life because there are wonderful things in it and she's missing that because her overwork (this is a suggestion from people on a discord server and I just loved it too much)

So that all was honestly expecting it to be longer XD stay healthy drink some water and have a good night or a nice day

Also I need ship names for the rest of them

I ALMOST GOT A SKIN LINE WITH ALL OF THEM I'M CRYING

#jinx #luxanna crownguard #caitlyn kiramman #gwen #seraphine #league of lesbians #leage of legends #jinxlux #caitjinx #jinx arcane #cait arcane #caitlyn arcane #lesbians #polyamarous #thes bitches gay #i'm going crazy #pistolwhip #lightcannon #sonic boom #is this their ship name? well now it is #arcane #jinxluxsera #caitlux

[lemonmatronicsart]

The Main Five - Seal The Magic

Well, six. If you count the little Whiffle guy

🌸The CloudSeeker Gang🌸

     The CloudSeeker Gang consists of Cheer, Funshine, Grumpy, Good Luck, Share, and Dibble. While all knowing it’s a big risk, the CS Gang and Caring Control all agreed that the group needed to stay in The Silver Lining on a multi-year long mission to protect it. Even though they all miss their home Care a Lot, their work is absolutely crucial to the safety of The Silver Lining, Care a Lot, and even Earth.

^Closer looks later in post      All of their arcs in this are inspired by things that actually happen in UTM. Some more obvious than others.

     🌺Cheer Bear takes her role as leader very seriously, sometimes to a fault, and tries her absolute best to be a perfect commander for her team. She tries very hard to the point it can be draining, but keeps up her chipper attitude and manages to keep the group on track and upbeat. Though what the rest of the bears don’t realize is that the reason she takes her position with such pride is because she feels like she hasn’t truly earned it. Truth be told, she did get the job by being in the right place at the right time. Despite truly being a good leader, that fact looms over her any time she makes a mistake. Over the series she learns her talents and skill are truly there, and she slowly opens up and grows out of her imposter syndrome.

    Additionally, because of her pride in her job, she ends up developing a large rivalry with Bluster. While she tries to be the bigger person about it…well it’s Bluster. We can all agree she deserves to cuss him out at least once.

     🌺Funshine, despite not being able to drive, is the co-pilot of the group. Why did they decide that? Because what else is he gonna do. Even though at first glance it looks like he doesn’t do much for the group, he’s actually incredibly important to the group's personal well-being. His upbeat and care-free attitude keeps the crew happy during sour times, and he is essential to overall performances.

     While the other bears go through one big arc, Funshine goes through two connected arcs. While he is a genuinely happy guy, Funshine doesn’t know how to process any of his negative emotions properly. Because of this he often goofs off when he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t take situations he should seriously. He doesn’t want to feel bad about work because he can’t process it, so he tries to turn it into a joke. This of course leads to things getting worse, more often than better.

     Over the course of the series he learns how to process and open up about his emotions, and become a better teammate in the process.

     🌺Share is the peacekeeper and negotiator of the group, and highly values her skill to keep things civil and calm. Her team however, do not have those same skills. While she doesn’t start off the series with this issue, she slowly develops a small feeling of superiority in the group. However, she feels incredibly guilty about it, and tries to push the feeling away.

     (This arc is fully inspired by that once scene from One Wise Bear, but is supported by other moments in the show.)

     After developing this idea (which honestly..she’s not really wrong. They do cause trouble a lot) she tries to ignore it, but of course that doesn’t make it go away. She learns to be open with emotions and eventually is honest with the group, which leads to them all becoming more on equal grounds. After this she also becomes more involved with the group itself instead of letting herself push herself away.

     🌺Good Luck, the navigator’s, arc is probably the second simplest one here, being that he needs to learn to rely on his own skills instead of pure luck. The Silver Lining messing with their belly badges’ magic isn’t too detrimental for most bears. But for Good Luck it could be dangerous for him. While in Care a Lot he could do almost anything and it be fine, here he has to be much more careful and develop his own skills.

     While in the silver lining he learns he can’t rely on fate, and takes more action to grow and becomes fully capable of his duty with or without his badge’s power.

     🌺Grumpy Bear is the group’s mechanic who built The CloudSeeker itself, and definitely has the shortest actual arc in the show. He of course starts off as his usual Grumpy self, and stills ends the show that way, but does mellow out a bit. Mainly for the sake of raising Dibble. Though instead of accepting the role after one episode it takes a whole..wait for it…three.

     ….Yeah that Whiffle stole his heart. While he does mellow out a bit, he’s still easily annoyed and very sarcastic still. He’s definitely the most unchanged from the original show, but later on he actually plays an important role in another character’s arc.

     🌺Dibble’s actual character is very unchanged, but her introduction is different. Instead of getting lost and the bears finding her by mistake, Dibble was actually going out of her way to find the bears. After the Bad Crowd attacked them for the first time in generations, Dibble escaped the raid and went looking for Care a Lot. 

     After this first battle is over, the bears decide to stay and protect The Silver Lining, and Dibble soon joins the mission.

^Grumpy design here is outdated, will try to update later. The one in the group image is the correct one

Main Info Post

The Bad Crowd

#Seal The Magic #care bears #care bears utm #Care Bears unlock the magic #Grumpy bear #Cheer bear #Good luck Bear #Dibble care bears #Share Bear #Funshine Bear #Care Bears au #Care Bears fanart #Care Bears art #seal the magic

[santajp]

Credits (Left to Right / Top then Bottom): @pedrodesenhador | bnuuyman | LightMizano | Pixcello

LOREEEEEEEEEEEE TIME!

Each person needs a heart, an empathy and caring for others as well as the Earth itself, one that manifests itself in an opening of one to their own flaws and doubts, or at least- that is what Rain believed for most of her life. She was raised by a group lost in the forest she'd call home rather than parents, being left at a young age near the town center before being found and helped into young adulthood with skills made from surviving near total isolation from the outside world. Though despite how that sounds, she and the many others are rather happy with the circumstances, perhaps even viewing themselves as deserving of it. Most people in the town know magic and have known it for their whole lives, being former rogues who attempted to steal the source of the forest's magic years ago, only to be trapped in the always changing paths. Though once working with one another as well as the magical nature within it, they began to live in tandem before finding their own lives inside, and Rain took these ideas to heart. Though she never really was a fighter, always seeing it as a last resort, she learned basic self-defense as well as basic spells to go with it, being able to sense living things around herself and keep track of threats nearing her or her allies by training nearly every day for years, and when she got blessed by a goddess to save the world, she a gained super strength and speed that could break the largest stones. With a slew of kicks and punches, often led into by hiding via nature to lunge out and attack, she has kept the forest safe from many villains who try to take the magic for themselves still, having the power and durability to keep her home safe time and time again.

She also has a talent for cooking, which she uses often to help new people who get lost in the forest and make treats for herself much of the time, alongside a near constant want to help others in any way she can. Though before her days of nearing the level of a goddess, Rain found the source of her power by wandering, finding out more of her home in strange temples and hidden parts of the grand forest, passing the ancient runes she knew so well for whatever of the outside world was left behind. Often things from outside the forest would get in through one way or another, then taken by the magic to be shifted around to all parts of the tress, making what began as a simple want to clean the forest of litter became a passion made by finding old VHS tapes, consoles, TVs, and anything else she could get her soft paws onto. Rain took what she saw as the technology of the future and brought it all home, making a whole room adorned to neon colors, a Sega Genesis, and tapes of all the media from modern devices she could emulate.

Cooking shows became places for new recipes as video games grabbed her attention immediately and radical shows made her immediately want to make new attacks, such as the Blossom Punch, a forward attack where she jumps to add momentum to seem as if she is flying with a red trail, Circular Destruction, a pair of attacks where she kicks her opponent upward to then jump up from under them to ram into their back as a spinning ball, and the Bit Kick, a slew of kicks that she counts in intervals of eight. Though one day, the tapes had something new. It was the same as many others mostly, being many TV shows and movies all on one tape, but one commercial caught her eye, advertising a way to your bloodline with one test. It was her chance to find out her parents and other jackalopes, so she rushed to book an Ober on her barely able to run the website computer and got to leaving the next day. Rain then met four of what would become her lifelong friends, having to be cramped into a car with them, fighting over aux cords and getting into small arguments. Though she helped them, as much as she could at least, trying to be caring even in the strange situation to try finding her parents. Through the strange technologies that made hers seem suddenly obsolete, new natures of vastly different parts of the world, and her own feeling of finally being able to have- a family- or perhaps just a normal one. Rain got closer to the people she was somewhat stuck with, knowing she was going to show her new friends her family at the end of their road trip.

Though once reaching her destination months later, she found the place she needed to go to, following the exact address of the commercial to only find a building made into rubble, leading to the reality that there wasn't an easy way to find out where she came from, that there wasn't anything perhaps left to find out. She was brought to tears, almost thinking the whole trip out of her one home was useless until her new friends comforted her, much like the town did all those years ago, making Rain know she already had a family in them, made by kindness for others. After a year with her new family and once the world needed a hero and a truth for her own power, she chose care of her world and the people in it, the wonder of life in its many forms as her one truth.

#my fursona #fursona #furry #rabbit fursona #rabbit furry #oc #original character #oc lore #lore #battle for the aux cord #fat belly #fatfur #char: rain

[fairytale-poll]

LOSER'S BRACKET SEMI FINALS! MATCH 1 OUT OF 2

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary

General Propaganda:

come on just look at her shes so fucking cool

SHES SOOOOOOOO FUCKING COOOOLL ok so like. Lobotomy Corporation takes place in an SCP type facility where a bunch of abnormalities are living. She is one of them. She is a mostly undying humanoid creature that lives for the sole sake of hunting down the Big And Will Be Bad Wolf. She lives in your facility and will BREAK OUT of her containment if she feels that the wolf is near (or if too many people are dying). You can also hire her to assist you in taking down other abnormalities, and she's actually super good at it. And her outfit is just so sooo sick? She's so cool. Please play Lobotomy Corporation it goes on sale for like $7 every Steam Sale

She's red riding hood if red riding hood had a gun. Also she kisses women

Monster based on human subconscious aka an Abnormality based on the story of Little Red Riding Hood (duh). In this story, she was mauled by the wolf (Big And Might Be Bad Wolf) who is based on all fairy tale wolf villains. Little Red then got to work plotting her revenge and making Bloodborne-esque gear for herself and the two Abnos are locked in eternal combat of hatred for one another

She's literally the coolest, just look at her. For people who might not be so familiar with her: She's one of the abnormalities that remain locked in the Lobotomy Corporation. Her past is somewhat unclear, but she has some horrid scars on her face due to the Big Bad Wolf and she swore vengeance upon him because of that incident. This lead her to become a mercenary and she looks 1000% scarier and more badass than the wolf lol. Also, asides from the fact that she may kill half of your team if she escapes containment, she is quite chill and will even help you take care of your problems if you pay her.

little red riding hood but consumed by vengeance to the point of becoming an anomalous creature hellbent on completing her eternal battle with the wolf. intense desire for revenge. baller as fuck design. will help you kill other escaping abnormalities but you gotta pay her to do it. gets pissed off every time someone escapes containment except for that one annoying bird for absolutely no discernible reason. if you let her kill the wolf she gives you bonuses but if someone else kills the wolf she goes fucking bananas. truly an inspired feral creature of a woman.

Go girl!!! We love your unrestrained violence!

She is literally the absolute coolest!!! I mean, just look at her design! Everything about it screams fucking cool! Not to mention that her story has themes of vengeance, rage, and grief!!! And Lobotomy corporation is just the fucking best and soooooo underrated.

She's starting to fall behind so GO ON AND VOTE MERC WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! (and buy Lobotomy Corp on steam it's not even that expensive!)

Vote for Riding Hooded Mercenary she's an Abnormality serving as a hired merc that means shes a hunter of her own kind and she WILL chase them to the ends of earth lest she dies herself or knows that damn Wolf is nearby. The cursor for sending hits on something is a wanted poster. She's WAW-classed too, a step below the most dangerous category for her ilk. she shares the class with things such as insane-ass magical girls, an eyeless flower horse turns people into wisteria gardens, fucked up and evil Little Prince, a bird judge that hangs its victims, the now-animate poisoned apple that killed Snow White, and of course the Wolf itself.

Loser's Bracket Propaganda:

little red wouldve gone so so hard if she wasnt against ylfa immediately… victory for our mercenary gal.

Riding Hooded Merc is a bonafide baddie & professional

She;s so fucking cool. almost got murdered by the wolf (also in lobcorp by the way) and she wants revenge so bad. cool as hell mercenary. also just look at her come on

I feel that they all deserve a bit more recognition as just about every Little Red Riding Hood is remembered for their story, but not their character. And I believe that the few I selected are truly well rounded characters, and amazing takes on who the character is.

the Lobotomy Corp one I know nothing about but who has a sick design (I also want the fans of this one to have a win because I liked watching the first round because of them)

Bugs Bunny

General Propaganda:

So the story is that the Three Little Pigs sell Bugs their straw and wood houses, the Big Bad Wolf blows them down, and Bugs decides to get revenge - by dressing himself up as Little Red Riding Hood, getting the Wolf to play his part in that story, and then messing with him as only Bugs can. Here's the video if you've never seen it: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x6vk41x

Bugs Bunny is an icon and he was so good for his role in this short. When he and the wolf realized they could work together against the pigs... oh my God. Come on Tumblr, you have to admit they had a little gay tension between them. Besides, at the end, when the brick house comes down and the wolf, so surprised and proud of himself exclaims "I did it!" and then it pans over to Bugs with the bomb and he slyly adds "We did it!" communist Bugs canon.

I love Bugs but badass little girls with the personality of a gruff action heroes are everything to 12 year old girls.

Loser's Bracket Propaganda:

Bugs Bunny winning would just be really funny

#red riding poll #loser's bracket #loser's bracket semi finals #little red riding hooded mercenary #f-01-57 #lobotomy corporation #bugs bunny #windblown hare #looney tunes #red riding hood #little red riding hood #fairytale #poll tournament #poll bracket #polls #character polls

[toffeethief]

Top 5 Albums In The Year Of Our Lord 2023

1. Ryuichi Sakamoto - 12

2. Buggin’ - Concrete Cowboys

3. Aesop Rock - Integrated Tech Solutions

4. Bell Witch - Future’s Shadow Part 1: The Clandestine Shadow

5. Zulu - A New Tomorrow

Honorable Mentions:

The Album Leaf - Future Falling // Amen Seat – Amen Seat // Andre 3000– New Blue Sun // Angel Dust – Brand New Soul // Aphex Twin – Blackbox Life Recorder 21f / In A Room7 F760 // Baroness – Stone // BB Bomb – Practice Songs-Lesson Three // Billy Woods & Kenny Segal – Maps // Black Matter Device – Buckshot Mouthwash/Mr. Uncomfortable // Blonde Redhead – Sit Down For Dinner // Boris/Uniform – Bright New Disease // The Bouncing Souls – Ten Stories High // Boygenius – The Record //  The Callous Daoboys – God Smiles On The Callous Daoboys // Chat Pile/Nerver – Brothers In Christ // Clementine Valentine – The Coin That Broke The Fountain Floor // C.LS.M. – Infinity Shit // George Cosby – Talk // Covet – Catharsis // Deserve To Die – Deserve To Die // Dorthia Cottrell – Death Folk Country // Arnold Dreyblatt – Resolve // Ex Pilots – Ex Pilots // Explosions In The Sky – End // Felony For Existing – Felony For Existing // Fews – Glass City // Fishbone – Fishbone // Flooding – Silhouette Machine // Fotocrime – Accelerated // Peter Gabriel – i/o // GLAM – The Color, The Dark // Gridlink – Coronet Juniper // Headcheese – Expired // The HIRS Collective – We’re Still Here // The Hope Conspiracy – Confusion/Chaos/Misery // Khanate – To Be Cruel // Kilamanzego – Black Weirdo // Killer Mike – Michael // Kitba – Kitba // Lamp Of Murmuur – Saturnian Bloodstorm // Lankum – False Lankum // Kali Malone – Does Spring Hides Its Joy // Mary Lattimore – Goodbye, Hotel Arkada // Lucy Camp – Smores Vol. 1 // Lunar Creature – Lunar Creature // Mile End – Promo 2023 // Mil-Spec – Marathon // Milledenials – The Peak Of Youth Life // Model/Actriz – Dogsbody // Mystic 100s – On A Micro Diet // Narrow Head – Moments Of Clarity // The Necks – Travel // New Found Glory – Make The Most Of It // New World Man ­– The Beast Is Back // Noname – Sundial // One Step Closer – Song For The Willow // Ostraca – Disaster // Oxbow – Love’s Holiday // Bill Orcutt – Jump On It // Misha Panilov – In Focus // Paramore – This Is Why // Parannoul – After The Magic // Pere Ubu – Trouble On A Big Beat Street // Perfect Angel At Heaven – Imploder // Pile – All Fiction // Planet On A Chain – Boxed In // Powers/Pulice/Rolin – Prism // Protomartyr – Formal Growth In The Desert // Pulsatile Tinnitus – The Finer Art Of Heartwork // Radiator Hospital – Can’t Make Any Promises / Watching A Fire // Rat Cage – Savage Visions // Restraining Order – Locked In Time // Ringworm – Seeing Through Fire // Olivia Rodrigo – Guts // Sadness – April Sunset // Sadness/Abriction – Sadness/Abriction // Sam Goldberg – Some Songs Are Sung // Screaming Females – Desire Pathways // Samuel Sharp – Consequential // Patrick Shiroishi – I Was Too Young To Hear Silence // Shonen Knife – Our Best Place // Shunkan – She Nods // Sigur Ros – Atta // Sincere Engineer – Cheap Grills // Slant – Demo 2023 // Sophia Chablau e Uma Enore Pedre de Tempo – Musicia do Esquencimento // Spellling – Spellling & The Mystery School // Spirit Of Hamlet – Northwest Of Hamuretto // Spirit Of The Beehive – I’m So Lucky // Spy – Satisfaction // Marnie Stern – The Comeback Kid // Sunbear – Enjoy! // Suzie True – Sentimental Scum // Swiss Army Wife – Medium Gnarly // The Tallest Man On Earth – Henry St. // Teke::Teke – Hagata // Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 – These Things Remain Unassigned // TLOOTH – Wet // Unwed Sailor – Mute The Charm // Usurp Synapse – A Vile Contamina // Vivat Virtute – Hold Music // Widowdusk – I Know Where We’re At, Not Where We’re Going // Will Haven – VII // Witch Prophet – Gateway Experience

#lists