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buckysgrace · 14 days

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31. Smoke & a Light

Final part of Every Little Thing! Thank you so much for reading <3

2020

Life was hard without Gator.

They made it with many visits, phone calls and the video chats that they got. He wasn’t in jail too far away, but it still took a few hours to get back and forth. She wondered where they would go when he got released from prison.

It had been hard moving back in with her parents at first, but she was grateful for the help. Ruby was always good with the kids and things got to stay semi-normal as Daphne did more around the ranch. Birdie was comfortable here, as was Gator’s snake.

She moved back into her old room, while they spruced Noelle’s old room up for Maude and Jessica. She moved Piper and Knox’s nursery into Oliver’s old room, deciding that there wasn’t any rush to move them apart for now.

Moving didn’t seem like a bad idea at all, but she wouldn’t do it until she had Gator’s support. The small town that they lived in had turned brutal. Everyone spread rumors anyways, but she had heard some fairly cruel things about how it was impossible for her to not have been involved, or she was just downright dumb to not notice what was happening underneath her nose.

She knew she shouldn’t listen to any of them because they really didn’t know what she’d gone through, but it still bothered her. She should’ve been more aware, she knew that. There was no changing it now. She just hoped that it could all be left in the past.

Piper and Knox had the hardest time adjusting in her opinion. There was no way to really explain where Gator had gone and they had clearly taken notice of his absence. They cried and whined for days, weeks until they eventually died down. She almost thought that was the worst part, she was afraid that the twins would forget who he was.

In April they had a small party for the twins, to celebrate their birthday. Daphne had saved a piece of the Winnie the Pooh cake that she had baked for them. She hoped that she’d be able to bring it in for Gator. She took plenty of pictures, hoping that he’d be able to look at them when the time came.

She worked on slowly scrubbing Knox’s face clean, sighing as she realized the blue icing was completely in his hair. She shook her head, wondering how someone so small could be so messy.

“When will Gator be back?” Maude whined as she held onto Daphne’s arm, swaying back and forth as she tried to get her attention. It had been a struggle to pay attention to both sets of twins. She knew Maude and Jessica missed their parents, but she was struggling to care for them. They often didn’t like to listen to her. She felt bad, but many times she found herself pushing them off towards Ruby.

“Soon,” Daphne answered gently, “He’ll be back before you know it.” She tried to give her a gentle smile, but she was worried about Gator. His moods seemed to change every time she visited, but it wasn’t because he was doing it on purpose. He was going through a lot too.

“What about my mommy and daddy?” Maude blinked up at her curiously, her eyes mirrored behind thick eyelashes as her expression slightly fell. Daphne paused, parting her lips as she dropped her hands away from Knox.

“I don’t know,” Daphne answered honestly. Karen’s sentence had been a lot longer and she was sure that Roy’s escape would only occur when he finally passed, “Do you want to write to them again?” She asked softly. Karen answered as frequently as she could, but Roy had yet to answer one letter from the girls. She suspected that he wouldn’t either.

She’d been working on teaching them all braille despite Gator getting so offended over it. She thought that he was getting upset over nothing. Even if his eyesight was coming back, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to know. She had plans on all of them writing a letter once they got a little better.

“Dada,” Piper babbled out, leaning over Daphne’s knees to poke at her baby bump, “Dada.” She proclaimed proudly, her brown eyes shining as she exposed her little teeth. Daphne grinned to wipe the drool from the corner of her lips.

The twins had yet to see Gator in prison, but that mainly had to do with the drive. Daphne and Gator had both agreed it would be safer for them to visit once the new baby was born, just in case she went into labor early again.

“That’s the baby,” Daphne grinned, watching as Piper continued to poke at her, “Can you say baby?” She drew the syllables out slowly, watching the way Piper watched her in interest. Knox waddled over at that, squeaking loudly as he barreled his way past Piper to drag himself up onto Daphne’s lap.

“Daphne,” Ruby’s voice was soft as she approached, “You have a letter.” She said slowly, sounding hesitant as she spoke. Daphne sighed as she pulled a whining Piper onto her lap next, balancing her and Knox on her knees.

“From who?” She asked curiously, knitting her eyebrows together as she wondered who would be writing to her. Gator couldn’t, not unless he had asked someone to do so. He wouldn’t do that though. He was too proud to ask for help.

“Roy.” Ruby said at last, staring back down at the envelope. Daphne felt her pulse quicken just a little bit as she thought about him. He hadn’t been kind during the trial. Not to Gator, her or her family. They were all dead to him, that much was certain.

“Oh,” Daphne paused, not knowing what to say, “You’re sure it’s from him?” She held a hand out, keeping the twins from smashing their heads together as they started to squirm around on her lap.

“Yeah,” Ruby replied as she tilted the envelope in her fingers again, “Maybe we should just get rid of it.” She suggested a second later, making Daphne nod in agreement. She didn’t need the added stress right now. Not with her due date approaching.

“I’m sure it was something clever,” She said with a shake of her head, “It doesn’t matter anyways. If he’s not writing to his daughters he shouldn’t be writing to me.” She brushed it off, though she had a gnawing feeling that it was something bad. At least insulting. She didn’t want to see it right now.

“You shouldn’t worry about it,” Ruby agreed as she put the letter up on the mantle of the chimney, “When do you go to see Gator again?” She asked as she took a seat at the opposite side of the couch, grinning as Piper’s face burst into joy.

“Dada!” She exclaimed happily, her brown eyes flashing as she looked around. Daphne pressed her lips together, thinking that her actions were cute but feeling bad at the same time. She brushed her fingers across Piper’s small back as she bounced her.

“In the next few days,” Daphne told her honestly, “Dad is trying to see if he can be there for the delivery.” She mused gently, still desperately hoping that Gator would be able to come. It wouldn’t feel right without him being there. He deserved to meet his child right away.

Things just didn’t seem to be working in her favor. All the meetings with the lawyers and officers seemed pointless, even meeting with her dad at times. He was this supposed great lawyer, but he was still unable to get these small strings pulled. She really thought he might be able to do so, considering how bad her last delivery went.

“There’s nothing you can do?” She asked Bruce again, feeling defeated as she stared down at the papers in front of her. Knox wiggled around in her arms, more attached to her than usual. She supposed that he was soaking in his last few months of being the baby.

“No,” Bruce sighed softly, “I’m sorry, but that’s out of my hands.” He tapped his fingers against his desk, looking rather stern about his answer. She was still curious about her father, wondering how he hadn’t gone down with the whole ordeal. Apparently he only stuck to the legal part of it and refused any and all true information about what Roy did.

“He deserves to meet his child.” Daphne took a deep breath, trying to keep her bottom lip from wobbling as she pressed a quick kiss to the top of Knox’s head. He looked up at her curious, his brown eyes wide and reminding her of Gator’s. She missed looking at Gator.

“He also has to do his time, just like everyone else. He can’t always get special treatment.” Bruce pointed out what she already knew. She felt guilty about thinking that his punishment should be less, but she also couldn’t help it. She cared about him. There was a difference.

“I need him there.” She told Bruce softly, knowing that he had no idea of what she had gone through. Ruby’s pregnancies and deliveries had been easy and painless, in her own words. Daphne didn’t know what she would do if she was as weak as last time. She looked at Knox again, wondering if she’d even be able to hold him by the time she had the new baby.

“Your mother will be there,” Bruce said dismissively, “I’m still working on a conjugal visit.” He said with a nod of his head, acting like it was supposed to make everything better. She paused, figuring that it might work more in their favor. Especially if she got to bring the kids.

“Even if we’re not married?” She asked him nervously, knowing that the rules were strict. Technically, their state didn’t even allow conjugal visits but they were still trying.

“We’ll try and work around it,” He replied a second later, “You might be looking at a shotgun wedding though.” He chuckled, looking amused as she shook her head at his words. Marriage was the least of her worries at the moment.

“Great,” She muttered underneath her breath, “That’s just what I wanted to hear.” She replied slowly, giving Knox another quick squeeze as she tried no to stress over everything that was happening. She reminded herself that things were hard now, but it would be easier soon. Once she had Gator back. Everything would fall back into place.

///////////////////////////////////////////

“Should you be here?” Gator questioned her, touching the side of his glasses as she took her usual seat. She had to slightly straddle it, her protruding belly too large to sit facing the table.

“What do you mean?” She asked him curiously, pressing her bangs out of her face before she rested her palm against her belly. The baby was moving, alert and kicking as she suddenly had a strong urge to pee again. That was the worst part about the drive here.

“You’re just so close to being due,” Gator spit out quickly, “I don’t want something happening. Especially here.” He glanced around, looking like something bad would happen. She shook her head, pausing before she reached forward to take his hands gently in hers.

He was paler than usual and his hair was longer, shaggier despite her asking them to give him a haircut the previous week she had been here. She wondered if he had refused, or if they had just simply chosen not to do it.

He was getting around better with his walking stick, which she was glad about. She was thinking about suggesting a dog once he was free from jail, but she wasn’t yet sure how he’d feel about that.

“Maybe it should happen here,” She teased, “You could cut the cord.” She told him, thinking that he’d at least be able to hold their baby right away. It killed her to think that he wouldn’t get the skin to skin contact that he had really loved with the twins.

“With my teeth or-?” Gator asked her, mocking in return as he referenced the lack of sharp tools near them. She grinned, glad that he was doing well enough to keep his humor. She supposed that was a good sign.

“If that works,” She laughed as she moved his hands around in hers, “I wanted to see you before that. Are you excited?” She asked him, hoping that he would be excited. She watched the way his features remained the same, stoic. She wondered if he was doing that on purpose, just trying to hide himself away so she couldn’t tell how he was feeling.

“I am,” He told her gently, “I wish I could be there.” He sounded solemn that time but kept his gaze pointed towards the table. He had told her that he was seeing better out of one eye, but still saw nothing out of the other. She still wanted to know why he wouldn’t reveal who had done it.

“Me too,” She responded, “But my mom will be there. Dad is gonna watch the kids with the help of Noelle and August.” She listed off the plan, hoping that things would go smoothly. All three of them were good with the kids, but they usually had Ruby or herself there to help. They’d be on their own that night.

“God be with them.” Gator teased, his lips pulling into a smile as he turned in her direction. She stared at the slight stubble on his skin, how he had a fair mustache beginning to show.

“Yeah,” She grinned in agreement, “I think I’m having a boy.” She said at last as she rubbed her hands over her stomach. Gator reached forward, dragging his palm across the table until he found her baby bump.

“How do you know?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he continued to drag his palm across her tummy. She grinned at the sensation, enjoying the way their baby fluttered about inside of her.

“I don’t know,” She said softly, “Just a feeling.” She told him honestly. She didn’t know how to explain it. Her bump looked similar to last time, but she couldn’t base the way she carried the twins then to the baby now. It would be a surprise and she was fine with that.

“As long as they’re healthy,” He replied gently, smiling at the way the baby kicked against his palm. She wrinkled up her nose, swearing the baby was purposely kicking at her bladder, “Just promise me you’ll be safe.” He said worriedly as he tilted his chin up towards her.

“I will,” She told him, knowing that there were a lot of things that could break that promise, “You be safe too. You’re going to have your hands full when you get out.” She reminded him, then pondered on it for a moment. They would have five kids to watch over soon.

As June crept around she grew more and more nervous. She wasn’t sure she was ready for another baby, but it was too late to fret about that now. She was really scared about the delivery process. She didn’t know what to do if things went bad again.

Her contractions didn’t seem as sudden, nor as painful as what she remembered them to be the first time around. Her water broke early in the morning, before anyone got too busy working on the ranch. It was hard leaving Piper and Knox behind for so long, but she knew she’d be back soon. She kept reminding herself that everything would be fine. She needed things to be fine.

“Another boy,” Ruby repeated with a smile, “Oh he’s so sweet. He looks like Knox did.” She was bent over the bed, looking down at the little baby in Daphne’s arms. He did look a lot like Knox. He had a full head of hair, darker like Piper’s. Although, Daphne was almost sure that his eyes were blue.

“Gator liked the name Noah,” Daphne sniffled as she held her baby close to her chest, “He should be named Noah.” She decided at last, nodding her head as she slowly traced her finger across his little cheeks.

Her next visit she brought Noah with her, but wasn’t able to tug around the twins with her. She decided she’d bring them on the next visit. It was too hard for her to tug around all three of them at once. Not to mention that Knox and Piper had been a little jealous of the new baby. Gator was also only allowed three visitors at once, no exceptions. She’d work around it somehow.

“Hi,” Daphne spoke softly, trying to keep herself together as she carried Noah in his car seat, “He’s so excited to see you.” She told him, unable to hide her excitement as she set the little area up.

“Yeah?” Gator turned up towards her, not quite in her direction but close enough, “How was it? How are you?” She moved close to him, not caring if the guards said anything as she quickly wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed him tightly, thinking about how desperately she missed him.

“Good. It all went well. No issues this time around. I delivered naturally too.” She replied, repeating what she had already told him earlier in the week on the phone. She kissed the top of her head, missing the smell of him.

“That’s good,” He nodded as he held onto her, inhaling deeply. His voice sounded raw, “I missed you so much.” He mumbled into her chest, sounding just as beat up about the whole ordeal as she did. She felt the same way.

“I missed you too,” She rubbed her nose against his cheek, sniffling as she pulled away, “Come on. I want you to meet him. He’s a big boy, just like Knox was.” She wiped at her eyes, trying to keep herself from falling apart as she looked back down at the sleepy infant.

“How big?” Gator asked in excitement, moving around in his chair to better position himself. She paused for a moment, watching the way the guard flinched as if he was expecting Gator to do something bad.

“Seven pounds, eight ounces,” She grinned as she gently unstrapped Noah from his car seat, “He’s a hungry one too. He latches well.” She grinned as she picked him up, watching the way he scrunched his body into a ball before she handed him gently to Gator.

“Wow,” She watched, observing the way Gator’s features lit up as he held Noah close, “He is a big guy, isn’t he?” He stared down at him, moving his free hand to push his glasses up onto his long and unruly hair. He looked down at him, squinting his eyes like he was trying really hard to see him.

“He sleeps really well,” She told him truthfully, “And he doesn’t cry a lot either. He’s a good baby.” She smiled, watching the way Gator blinked a few times as Noah snuggled deeper against his chest.

“Wow,” Gator brushed his fingers across Noah’s features gently, making the infant’s lips curl into a soft smile, “He has my nose.” He observed, glancing up towards her direction as she nodded her head in agreement. She suddenly felt overfilled with emotions.

“Yeah,” She covered her mouth, hoping he couldn’t see how she was struggling to keep it together, “Another little Knox. You guys could be triplets.” She laughed, more to herself as she thought about it. They could all dress up together one day. She thought that would be nice.

“I can’t wait to see him,” He replied, then paused for a moment, “Like really see him.” He mumbled as he continued to trace his fingers across Noah’s features. Daphne thought it must’ve felt good, because Noah let out a little squeak and his lips curled up into a smile again.

“You are,” She reassured him, sitting closer as he continued to snuggle Noah to his chest, “You picked out a really good name for him.” She told him seriously, liking the way Noah had fitted in. Even if the twins were a little jealous. She thought that they’d warm up soon enough. Especially with them all being so close in age.

“I thought you picked the boy names?” He teased her softly, still looking content as he rocked Noah in his arms. Daphne paused as she held her phone up, taking a quick picture so she could print it out later.

“This one felt right,” She said truthfully, “Besides I decided on the middle name. Alexander. Noah Alexander.” She grinned, liking that it matched with Knox’s name. She wasn’t sure if any other kids were in their future, but if there were she’d want to continue the trend.

“Fits perfectly with Knox Andrew and Piper Sue.” Gator told her, speaking her thoughts as she pressed her palm against her cheek. She leaned forward, touching the tip of her finger against Noah’s long hair.

“Piper Sue is really cute,” Daphne giggled as she stroked their baby’s forehead, “I’m glad you got to meet him.”

2021

“Dada!” Piper proclaimed happily, wiggling closer so that she nearly crawled up onto the table. Daphne smiled apologetically as she held onto her, hating that there was a glass wall separating them this time.

Gator’s features still broke into a grin as he leaned forward, pressing his palm flat against the glass as Piper nearly thunked her head against it. Daphne held her back just a bit, then released her once she was safe.

“Hey guys,” Gator’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses as he spoke, though she could hear the emotion in his voice, “I missed you both so much.” He cooed, tilting his head against the phone as Piper leaned her face against the glass.

“Kiss.” Piper demanded, her eyebrows knitting together as she roughly pressed her pointer finger against the glass. Daphne sighed as she balanced Knox on her leg. He continued to cling to her, looking a little overwhelmed at the whole visit.

“Not today, baby,” She apologized gently, “There’s glass here. Daddy can’t get the kiss right now, but it’ll be okay.” She used her free hand to rub Piper’s back, watching the angry look that stayed plastered on the toddler’s features.

“No.” She said quickly, in the same manner she used when she got peas on her plate. Daphne rubbed at her back, knowing that this would be hard for them to understand.

“She sounds like you.” Gator teased, speaking up as he continued to leave his hand in the same spot. Piper kept poking at it intently, as if it might make the glass disappear.

“Oh no,” She grinned as she bounced Knox on her knee, earning a little giggle from him as she kissed his cheek, “They have their daddy’s attitude.” She told him as she pushed the hair from Knox’s forehead.

“Hi,” Knox finally spoke up, his voice soft and quiet as he looked at Gator, “Daddy?” He turned his attention up towards Daphne, his brown eyes wide and filled with curiosity. She nodded her head reassuringly.

“Yeah, that’s daddy,” She smiled as she pointed towards Gator again, “Doesn’t he have the coolest shades?” She laughed as she held Knox up, letting him get a better view. He was a little longer than Piper and still heavier, but out of all of the kids he was the one who wanted to cuddle the most. She was sad that Gator was missing that.

“Yeah,” Knox giggled as he balanced himself on Daphne’s thigh, “Want.” He grinned excitedly, turning his attention towards Piper who had begun to squeal in delight. She was in her own world, trying to match her little hand up with Gator’s.

“You want them?” Gator grinned widely, “I’ll get you a pair when I get out.” He promised softly, looking relaxed and more calm as the time went by. Daphne smiled in agreement, excited that there was only one more year. They could get through it.

“Did you enjoy the cake you got?” She asked him, wiggling her face between the two toddlers as they were both sitting up near the glass now. Knox had started to poke his finger against the exposed parts of Gator’s hand, as Piper now had two palms up against his.

“I did,” Gator agreed, looking amused as he turned his attention towards them. He could see fairly clearly out of one eye now. The last time she came in he had moved in close, pointing out the freckles on her cheek. He wasn’t completely blind out of the other, but he could only make out various shadows and colors. Sometimes he could make out shapes, “It was really delicious.” He added, continuing to wiggle his fingers to get the twins to squeal.

“Good,” She said softly, wishing that there wasn’t a piece of glass between them. She wished that she could pack him up and take him home, “What have you been doing? Are the lessons going any better?” She asked, glad that he had finally taken up to learning braille. He still insisted that he didn’t need it, but she thought it would be helpful. She was trying to get the twins to learn as well.

She listened as he spoke, her heart hammering gently in her chest as she continued to think of how desperately she missed him. She kept reminding herself that it would be soon, but it didn’t make the time tick by any faster. She felt guilty on the days that seemed to feel like months, like she was missing out on how fast the twins were growing. On how Noah was growing. It was all hard.

That Halloween had been particularly hard to find something that everyone would like. Maude and Jessica finally settled on Elsa and Anna after a long battle of who would be who, leaving Daphne to decide that Noah would be a fairly good Olaf. Piper and Knox had grown obsessed with Mickey Mouse, so she felt like it would be a good idea to dress them as Minnie and Mickey. Only Noah had grown fascinated with their ears and kept trying to eat them.

Hiding the Halloween candy had been even harder. Noah was now at the age where he was wobbling around so whenever Piper or Knox got into something, he wasn’t far behind. His eyes had changed since he was an infant, now matching the same hazel as the other two.

Peeling off the costumes had been another story. She nearly bought a whole other set, just to try and get Piper out of hers. She liked her polka dotted dress, her soft heels and mouse ears. There had been more than one morning that a tantrum had been thrown, just because she wanted a mouse nose and whiskers drawn onto her.

“Oh,” Daphne paused as she leaned against the door, “Hi.” She blinked in confusion, wrapping her cardigan around her tightly as the brisk November air swept in. Nadine stood in front of her, all bundled up with a child that seemed a little older than Maude and Jessica.

“Hi,” Nadine answered with a smile, “We brought cookies. Can we come in?” She asked kindly, looking unsure as if she wasn’t really sure why she’d come either. Daphne knew that she had been visiting Gator in jail, but she hadn’t expected her to come here.

“Um, yeah,” Daphne nodded her head quickly as she moved out of the way, “Sorry about the mess.” She apologized quickly, looking at the scattered toys that lingered about. Ruby and Bruce had a cattle show this weekend. They had been kind enough to take Maude and Jessica with them. Daphne was sure she couldn’t handle the five on her own. Her three kids were ornery enough.

“It’s okay,” Nadine replied gently, holding onto whom Daphne assumed was her daughter as she walked inside, “I’ve heard that you have your hands full.” She said with a laugh, glancing over as Piper took off chasing after Birdie. Daphne sighed gently.

“Gator?” She asked, locking the door behind her. She shivered as she adjusted to the warm air once again. Noah came forth, apparently deciding that he no longer needed his shirt.

“Yeah,” She smiled as she nodded her head, “We saw him last week, didn’t we Scotty?” She handed the box of cookies to Daphne before she gave her daughter a soft squeeze. Scotty. Daphne liked that.

“We did,” Scotty replied in agreement, “I told him about the different types of alligators.” She replied with a shy smile, glancing down as Noah began to tug at Daphne’s pants. She picked him up quickly, then reached for the discarded pacifier he’d thrown earlier.

“Oh neat,” Daphne said with a smile, “Snakes are his favorite animal.” She told her gently, hoping that would give her some more ideas about what to speak to Gator about. She knew that he enjoyed the company. She wished she could be with him all the time.

“Cool,” Scotty replied, “Are these my cousins then?” She looked at Noah eagerly, having the same look in her eye that everyone else did when they wanted to hold him. Noah was a nice mixture of Knox and Piper. He didn’t mind being held by others, but he still preferred to be held by someone that he knew.

“Yeah,” Nadine nodded her head, “Looks like you have a bunch.” She laughed, moving out of the way as Piper came into the room once again. She was holding Birdie gently, triumphantly as the large cat seemed to have just given up. Daphne ensured that he wasn’t actually bothered before she let Piper get too far.

“Three of them,” Daphne smiled, “Do you want to hold him?” She asked, motioning Noah out towards Scotty.

“Can I?” She grinned in excitement, looking at Daphne and then back to her mother. Daphne nodded her head, smiling as she slowly passed the chunky baby off towards Scotty.

“Sure,” She said gently, “He’s learning how to move, so he’s a little wiggly.” She warned her, knowing that Noah wouldn’t stay long before he had to be on the move again.

“What’s his name?” Nadine asked, glancing down as Scotty balanced him in her arms. He had his eyebrows raised, his eyes glued to her as he appeared to be unimpressed. Like he was trying to decide if he liked them or not.

“Noah,” Daphne smiled, “And this one is Piper and this is Knox.” She responded as she touched each of their hands. Knox jolted, looking surprised as he looked at the two strangers.

“Hi.” Piper waved, grinning from ear to ear as she held up her little shaker toy. Knox wobbled away, whining as he gripped a hold of Daphne’s knee this time.

“He’s not very talkative,” She apologized, wincing as she bent over to pick Knox up, “That’s okay though, isn’t it?” She asked him as she kissed his cheek. He did like to talk, but only when he felt comfortable enough to do so. Knox nodded as he touched his sticky hands to her face.

“He looks like Gator,” Nadine piped up, slowly holding out a finger until Knox worked up the courage to hold onto her and shake it, “He’s very strong. That’s good.” Knox giggled as he quickly pulled away, hiding his face in the crook of Daphne’s neck.

“How have you been?” Daphne asked her, feeling odd to speak to her at all. It had been so long and she never really knew Nadine that well either. She rocked Knox back and forth as Scotty got dragged away by Piper, apparently becoming part of some sort of new game.

“I’ve been really good,” Nadine answered with a smile, “And I go by Dorothy now. Or Dot. I think it suits me a lot better.” She told her as she played with the hem of her jacket.

“Dot,” Daphne nodded her head in agreement, “That’s a really pretty name.” She told her truthfully, pulling out a seat so they could both sit down. Knox sighed dramatically as he dropped his head to her chest, signaling her that he was getting tired.

“Your mom used to put on The Wizard of Oz all the time,” Dot replied slowly, “I guess I owe her for making me fall in love with the movie.” She said with a soft laugh, although Daphne didn’t think she owed them anything. She wished they could’ve done more to prevent her situation. Especially her parents.

“She’s very particular about her tastes,” Daphne agreed with a smile, “Is there something I could help you with?” She asked a second later, sure that Dot had come here for some reason.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Dot said as she played with the sleeves on her cardigan, “Gator said you tipped the cops off.” Daphne blinked in surprise, feeling like she hadn’t done nearly enough. She had been so panicked about what happened to Gator that day that she had barely thought about anyone else.

“I tried,” She replied gently, “I didn’t know what else to do. I wish I had done more but he went missing and well-, it sort’ve took up everything else.” She did her best to explain, feeling guilty all over again.

“I understand,” Dot nodded her head, “I would’ve been the same way if it was my Wayne. I’m glad you two got together. It’s sweet.” She smiled genuinely, making Daphne flush as she thought about how jealous she’d been of Dot’s relationship with Gator at one point. That had been such a long time ago.

“Me too,” Daphne replied gently, “He’s doing a lot better you know? Now that his dad isn’t around.” She nodded her head, hoping that it would stay that way. Roy was like poison. Even though he was locked away, Gator did seem a lot more content.

“He seems a lot happier,” Dot drew out softly, “You know if you need somewhere to live after, my neighborhood is super safe. Well, usually.” She added, then quickly shook her head like Daphne wouldn’t understand.

“Yeah?” Daphne asked her softly, “I haven’t even thought about where we’d go yet.” She was a little surprised, sure that Dot was asking them to move nearby. That would be nice. Different. The fresh start that they probably needed.

“We could be neighbors, all of us,” Dot suggested with a smile, “You know, I bet Wayne could even get Gator a job. He’s a car salesman.” She continued on, beginning to paint a nice picture in Daphne’s mind. She glanced at the kids, thinking that they would like that.

“That would be something,” Daphne replied, feeling a little less lost about their future, “Thank you.”

2022

“Okay,” Daphne checked over the twins again, ensuring that they were both clean and put together before they walked inside, “Do you remember the rules?” She asked them seriously, nearly wishing that she had gotten the backpacks with the leashes. She balanced Noah in her arms, although he was clearly wanting to get down and wiggle too.

“No.” Piper said, grinning widely as she rocked from foot to foot. Knox turned his attention, his brown eyes wide like this was the first time Daphne had spoken to them.

“The rules were to stay next to me,” Daphne repeated gently, “And to use our inside voices. Does that ring a bell?” She asked them, waiting until she had three little heads nodding back at her.

“Uh huh.” Noah answered as he looked down at his siblings. More often than not, people mistook the kids as triplets. Sometimes they assumed that the twins were Knox and Noah and that Piper was the younger one.

“Are you ready to see daddy?” She smiled at them as they waited at the door. It had been a long time coming, “He’s going to be so happy to see you.” She told them, thinking that he would be so excited to finally get his arms around them.

“I miss him.” Knox answered as he pouted his little lips out. She had styled his hair back today, matching Noah once again. She thought that Gator would like it if they all mirrored him.

“He missed you three too,” Daphne reassured as she held onto them, “Now daddy might be tired, okay? But that’s fine. We’re going to take him home.” She nodded her head again, but it was no use. They had all lost track of what she was saying.

They all snapped their heads up in unison at the sound of the door opening, then at the way the walking stick tapped against the floor. Daphne felt her heart race, her cheeks flush as she immediately moved forward. She could touch him, could hug him and hold him for as long as she wanted.

“Daddy,” Piper’s little voice rang out, her voice chipper as she waddled her way forward, “Hi!” She exclaimed, beating everyone else as she threw her hands up dramatically. Noah wiggled down next, wobbling behind as Daphne realized for the first time that his shoes and socks were gone.

“Hey,” He grinned from ear to ear, squatting down as he held his arms out towards them, “Oh wow. Look at how big you’ve gotten!” He squeezed both of them into a giant hug, rocking them back and forth for the longest time.

Noah began to babble about something, speaking faster than anyone could understand as Piper did her best to talk over him. Daphne nudged Knox along slowly, noticing the shy expression on his features. It had been some time since Gator had been able to really hold him.

“Hewwo,” Knox breathed out shyly as he pulled his thumb from his mouth, “I miss you.” He kept his head down for a moment before he moved forward, only to be swept up by Gator as well.

“Look at all of you,” Gator mused as he held them tightly, giving each of them a forehead kiss, “I missed you all so much.” His voice rattled a bit as he spoke. His eyes were covered with the new pair of shades that they had gotten for him on his last visit.

“Go home!” Piper exclaimed happily, slightly muffled by where she had her face buried into the crook of his neck. Daphne admired him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to wiggle her way into the hug.

His hair was longer than usual, floppy and grown out from the usual way he’d preferred it to be shaved. He claimed that they didn’t do it right in prison, but she had been wondering if he was enjoying the different way it felt. Especially since Roy couldn’t call him any names for having longer hair now.

“Of course,” Gator grinned as he stood, setting them down for a moment so he could grasp Daphne, “I missed you most.” He mumbled as he brushed his lips against hers. She clung to him for just a moment, her heart aching at how desperately she’d missed him too. It was fleeting as six little hands began to tug on them, forcing them apart. Daphne savored his warmth all the same, knowing she’d get him on her own later.

“I parked towards the front,” She responded as she picked Noah up, trusting him the least, “Do you have everything?” She asked him, glancing at the little clear bag he had on his side. Noah pressed his palms against Daphne’s shoulder, trying to get her attention as he babbled about something.

“Right here,” He responded as he folded his walking stick up and took Piper in one hand and Knox in the other, “I’m ready.” Piper stared at where he put the stick, looking like she was plotting on how to get her hands on it later.

As always, getting them into their car seats was a fight. Knox was always the most easy going about it, meanwhile Noah clashed and whined and kicked his feet the whole time. He did not

“Daddy, hold me.” Piper squeaked out once Daphne got into the driver's seat, her hair messy and nerves a little shot. She stared up into the rearview mirror, sure that she had heard wrong.

“He can’t baby,” Daphne replied as she looked back at where Piper was struggling to break free, “You need to sit in your big girl seat.” Daphne explained, watching as Piper’s face began to grow red in frustration. She continued to whine, squirming about.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?” Gator questioned, “Just for today.” He said slowly, almost like he was regretting speaking up. She nodded her head quickly, not even thinking about how he probably did want to hold them.

“Okay,” She agreed softly, “Just this one time.” She told her, reaching back expertly to get her unhooked and moved onto Gator’s lap. She melted against him, beaming happily as she moved her little arms around his bicep.

“Me too mommy.” Knox said so sweetly, flashing his big brown eyes as he held his hands out expectantly. Daphne shook her head gently as she got him unhooked, smiling at the way his face lit up as well.

“You too,” She agreed as she moved Knox onto Gator’s lap next, “Just no fighting.” She told them seriously, watching the way Gator moved his gaze down to them.

“You two don’t fight, do you?” He wrinkled his eyebrows, looking at them expectantly like there was no way they’d do such a thing. Knox grinned as he pulled his hand up to cover his lips, having the decency to at least look bashful.

“No,” Piper giggled, smiling brightly to herself, “Not evew.” She said as she rested her head against Gator’s chest. He leaned down, holding onto them both tightly before rocking them back and forth. Daphne supposed it wasn’t a complete lie. Piper and Knox really didn’t fight. It was Noah and Piper that she had to keep her eyes on at all times.

“Good,” Gator smiled as he rested his forehead against theirs, earning another round of giggles from them, “You’ve been really good for mama then?” He questioned them seriously this time, a small smile fluttering to his lips at their back and forth banter.

“Always,” Knox piped up, a shy smile forming on his lips as he rested his cheek against Gator’s chest, “Mama good.” He said with a nod of his head. Daphne knew it wasn’t always good. Even trying to leave with them this morning had been rough. But suddenly she felt like it didn’t matter.

“Me!” Noah whined, “Me! Me!” Daphne shook her head, not phased by him wanting to follow along with his older siblings at all. She pulled him free next, holding onto him carefully as he wriggled in her arms. Gator took him gently, then balanced him on his lap with Piper. Noah’s face scrunched up in delight, his eyes shining with joy.

“And you too, big guy,” Gator teased as he brushed his fingers against Noah’s exposed toes, “You’re huge too.” He commented, looking pleased at the way Noah giggled in response.

“Fat.”

“Piper,” Daphne looked down at them quickly, “Don’t call your brother fat.” She told her quickly, pausing before she began to reverse out of the spot. Piper and Noah certainly had a harder time getting along.

“It twue.” Piper replied in a matter-of-fact way, her top lip puckered up and her eyebrows raised as she looked at Daphne. Daphne sighed as she turned away, knowing that Piper could argue for hours.

“That’s all you.” Gator commented, looking amused as he glanced towards her. He moved a hand between the two toddlers, trying to keep Noah from poking at Piper. Knox sat on his own, watching the other two in exasperation.

“Yeah,” Daphne muttered as Piper continued to give her the same look, “I know.” She replied, turning her attention back to the road as Noah started to babble once again. He spoke fast, his words blending together as he gestured his arms about. Piper swatted at him, looking irritated once again.

“You’re all perfect,” Gator grinned as he kissed their cheeks, pulling them close so they’d all likely forget their annoyances with the other, “I don’t ever want to let you go.” He inhaled deeply as he held onto them, making some of them squeal from his firm grip.

“Okay,” Knox giggled as he snuggled closer, never one to deny cuddles, “I like that.” He proclaimed with a smile. Daphne watched them for a moment, shaking her head as she increased the volume on the stereo.

“I hope you like baby music,” She told Gator seriously as the song began to play, instantly gaining a chorus of cheers from the toddlers, “You’ll get used to it.” She grinned at his raised eyebrow, knowing that it would take some getting used to. She was fairly certain she listened to music for the kids, more than she listened to her own at this point.

The drive seemed to be a lot shorter than before, which was more than fine with her. She was excited to bring Gator back, even if they no longer had their own home. They could figure that out later.

Piper and Knox fell asleep on the way back, but Noah stayed wide awake and continued to coo and chatter about whatever was on his mind. Daphne knew that he was fighting sleep, doing whatever he could to avoid naps. He hated them, unlike the other two.

“Here,” Daphne paused as she picked up Knox, balancing him awkwardly in one hand before she reached for Piper next. The house wasn’t that far away. She was fairly certain she could carry them inside without dropping them, “I’ve got them.” She reassured him, although she could feel her arms struggling under their weight. She’d never fully felt like she got her strength back.

She only held them for a second before Gator took Knox from her arms. Noah had wiggled down, determined to move on his own as he waddled towards the front door. Gator grinned as he peered down at her, making her heart hammer roughly inside of her chest. She couldn’t believe it’d been so long since they’d been this close.

She linked their fingers together, holding onto him tightly as they followed behind Noah. He was banging his fists on the door, glancing towards them in confusion like he didn’t fully understand why it wouldn’t open. Gator hesitated as he opened the door, looking like he was unsure about being back before he walked inside. Daphne followed closely behind, but made a beeline for the

“Hi, Gator,” Ruby greeted as she kissed both of his cheeks, “Oh, I’m so glad that you’re back.” She held onto him gently, smiling brightly as Noah zigzagged between all of their legs.

“Me too.” He mused softly, still looking a little worried. He paused, crouching down low to greet Birdie who had slowly approached. He rubbed his head against Gator’s palm, purring at the attention.

“Good to see you, son,” Bruce waved as he lazily handed Noah one of the discarded toys, “When are you going to propose to my daughter?” He asked, making Daphne’s features drop as she snapped her head towards him in horror.

“Dad!” Daphne whined, face flushing as she shook her head, “Ignore him. There’s no rush.” She squeaked out, noticing that Gator’s face looked just as red as hers felt.

“Three kids,” Bruce mumbled, “You’re not getting any younger.” He shook his head, looking like he didn’t know what the big deal was as he flicked his eyes back down to the book he was reading.

“Bruce,” Ruby replied next, “You can’t just rush these things.” She shook her head, looking just as dismissive. Daphne balanced Piper in her arms again, hoping that this wouldn’t lead to another conversation about Hugh. She’d heard it all recently.

“They rushed everything else,” He continued to mumble underneath his breath, “But what do I know.” Gator turned towards Daphne sheepishly, looking like he was about to say something before Noah began to tug at his left arm. He flinched, not expecting the movement.

“Ball.” Noah grinned happily, excited with his find as he held up the toy. Gator turned a little to better look at him, mirroring his smile as he took it in his free hand.

“Oh wow,” He drew out dramatically, “This is so cool, buddy.” He brushed his fingers through Noah’s hair, making him giggle before he took the ball from Gator’s hands once again.

“Do you want to see the rooms?” Daphne asked him instead, hoping to make his transition a little easier. She didn’t want Bruce to badger Gator. She was sure he felt awkward enough. Gator nodded his head, using his free hand to take Noah’s as they headed towards the stairs.

“Maude and Jessica will be home from school soon,” Ruby spoke up, “They’re excited to see you too.” She told him and Daphne nodded along quickly, knowing that they had missed him a lot too.

“They sleep down here,” Daphne pointed out, taking her time to show everything to him, “Piper has her own room at the moment. I moved the boys in together.” She pulled Piper’s door open, showing off the Tinker Bell themed room before she let Piper relax in her bed.

“Yeah?” Gator grinned, watching as Noah rushed forward into his shared room, “Wow. This is where you live?” He teased him, still holding onto Knox as he looked around. The boys had agreed upon staying with the farm theme, although they were all currently obsessed with Bluey.

“Mhm,” Noah smiled as he moved towards the bookshelf, “Mama, mama.” He whined as he pointed, standing on the tips of his toes as if he could grow and reach it. He furrowed his eyebrows together tightly and pouted out his bottom lip.

She walked forward, picking up the toy car he was wanting. His little brown eyes lit up in joy as he held it to his chest, doing his best to mimic the sound of the engine roaring as he looked up at her.

“Thank you.” He told her, the th sound making an f instead. He waddled back towards Gator, grinning happily. Gator paused as he set Knox down into one of the beds. He looked at the car Noah was holding, grinning as he roughly clawed at his pants.

“Is that your favorite toy?” Gator asked as he picked him up. He smiled as he kissed the side of Noah’s cheek, while Noah showed the little red car off.

“Mhm, no,” Noah answered thoughtfully as he stared down at the car, twisting it between his chunky fingers, “I like.” He nodded his head, looking proud of his answer as Gator bounced him in his arms again.

“He’s a silly one,” Daphne smiled as she brushed her fingers across Noah’s exposed toes, “He still hates naps and bananas.” She pointed out, thinking that it was funny that the twins enjoyed the other two things quite a bit.

“Well how about that,” Gator grinned, watching as Noah intensely began to drive the car against his shoulder, “So, are you going to show me your room or do I have to work for it?” He asked, his lips curling into a smirk as Daphne felt herself flush once again.

“Mhm, I guess,” She grinned playfully as she stood on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, “Not much changed, not really. I kept a lot of things from our room.” She told him honestly. Her former childhood room now reflected the room that they’d built together. She liked it.

“Did you go through my things?” He asked hesitantly as he looked around the room. She rested her hands on her hips as she shook her head.

“We just tried to quickly move it all without unpacking,” She told him as she glanced around, “I tried to keep up with washing most of them, but then it started to not smell like you.” She replied honestly, smiling sheepishly as she dragged her fingertips against his dresser.

“Cheesy,” He smiled softly as he watched her, “I really thought you’d kick me out.” He said a little softer as he turned his attention back to Noah, who had started making car noises again.

“That’s stupid,” She said with a laugh as she held onto his waist, “I love you too much for that. Besides, I spent way too many years pining over you. You’re stuck with me.” She nodded her head, liking the way his cheeks turned pink. Just a little bit.

Noah crashed not long after that, the events of the day finally catching up to him as he drooled and slumbered into the crook of Gator’s shoulder. Daphne didn’t protest as Gator held him the whole time, knowing that he was more worried about bonding with him since he didn’t get the same amount of time with him.

“So we can look at different areas to live,” She started to explain, pulling up the tablet at the different places she’d been living at, “We can get you on for disability, then we can find-,”

“I don’t need that.” Gator interjected as he sat up a little bit from his position. Noah barely stirred, but Knox and Piper both turned towards him in interest. They were like little ducklings, just a few steps behind him no matter where he went.

They had retired to their room to rest before dinner. She had brought the twins along once they had woken up as they were still excited about Gator being back home. They had a million questions and both of them had to show off their favorite toys, blankets and stuffed animals before Gator had been allowed to sit down.

“Huh?” She looked at him curiously, “It’s nothing bad. It would just be to help.” She told him seriously,

“I can see from this eye,” He told her seriously, “My bad one I can make out certain shapes and colors. It’s not that bad.” He shrugged his shoulders, almost irritated that she had even suggested that. She watched him for a moment, knowing at the moment that neither of them had any sort of income.

“It would just be for support,” She told him gently, “We could use the money.” She added a second later, hoping that he might not be so stubborn about it. She didn’t know what places would really hire him. Not because of his sight, but because of his past.

“I don’t want it as long as I can work.” He replied, smiling brightly as Piper passed him a fake tea cup. He held up his pinky finger as he pretended to drink it, earning a giggle from her.

“Okay,” She told him gently, “So what would you be doing?” She asked him, knitting her eyebrows together as she tried to get a sense of what his plan was. She hadn’t spent the past few years completely out of work. She’d tried a few different places, but each time it seemed that she got shooed away because of what Gator had been involved in. This town didn’t want them. They just needed out.

“Maybe I could do something with welding,” He replied gently, “Or truck driving. If they let me do that.” He mused off, making her shake her head as she continued to scroll on her tablet, glancing at the houses that were listed. Bismarck wasn’t too far away.

“You’re funny,” She smiled as she curled up to his side, “Especially if you think you can go anywhere without me again.” She told him seriously. She didn’t want to lose him ever again.

“I’d pack you all up into the truck,” He teased, “It’d be a little tight.” He said with a laugh, making her grin as she thought about it. She was sure that the kids would find a way to be pleased. “Just a bit,” She agreed with a smile, “Wayne said you always have a place to start with him.” She suggested slowly, wondering if Dot had said anything else about it to him. She thought that it sounded fun. Her parents had even said they’d move too, just for the extra support.

“I don’t want to rely on him.” Gator brushed her off as he began to thread his fingers through Noah’s hair. The youngest boy sighed, stretching out a little bit before he curled back up into Gator’s chest.

“You wouldn’t be,” She told him as she sat up to look at him better, “You’d be working underneath him. And the guy is super nice.” She told him, knowing that Wayne wouldn’t think that at all. She’d met him now a few times.

“I’m nice.” Gator said as he furrowed his eyebrows together, smiling as the twins started to clamber over towards him. Piper stalled, pouting as she realized that Knox was currently blocking her way.

“The nicest,” Daphne corrected with a smile, “And we’re so lucky to have you.” She told him truthfully, feeling like her world was slowly coming back into place.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Dinner was a mess of pasta sauce and thrown noodles, plenty of leftovers for Birdie to munch up off of the floor. He was good at grabbing it, no matter how hard Daphne tried to keep the kids from feeding him. They always found a way.

Gator seemed to enjoy bath time, even when Noah started to whine and cry about having to actually get into the water. Although he quickly grew fascinated by the rubber duck that Gator kept booping against his nose. The bubbles from the tub seemed never ending by the time it came to dry them off.

She let him take the reins in laying them down, enjoying the tight way he held onto them and the gentle way he kissed their foreheads. She wondered if he knew just how good of a dad he was. He was much better than his father. Then even hers. She was proud of him.

She liked that Gator was able to bond with their children again, but she was even happier once they were asleep and she got him all to her own. She curled up behind him on the bed, threading her fingers through his chest hair as she buried her smile into his skin.

She brushed her lips against his gently, thinking of how desperately she had missed him. She moved her fingers across his shoulders, soaking in the feeling of his warmth as she deepened the kiss.

She slid her tongue against his slowly, pressing the tips of their tongues together. He sighed against her mouth as he brushed his fingers across the curve of her cheek, slowly turning so he could face her better.

He still tasted the same, still melted in a similar manner against her mouth. She cupped the side of his cheek, lightly pressing her thumb into his flesh. His tongue continued to swirl against hers, dragging slowly before he flicked it against the roof of her mouth.

He dragged his palms against her sides, touching her gently as she pulled him closer to her. She pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth, then traveled further down his neck as the moans from his lips grew louder.

He sat up a bit, molding his mouth against hers once again as she dragged her fingers against the hem of his pajama pants. She could feel his cock hardening against her hip, making her smirk as she slowly began to grind her hips down against him.

“Fuck,” He hissed out as he brought his palms against her waist, “Missed you.” He mumbled again as she peered down at him, grinning at the longing look he held. She crawled on top of him slowly, bringing his hands to her hips as she slowly pulled his pants down.

“Missed you too,” She told him softly, biting down on her bottom lip as she wrapped her fingers around his thick cock. She stroked him slowly, feeling her own desire burning between her legs as she watched the way he rocked his hips forward, “Thought about you so much.” She admitted, rolling her hips forward as she continued to drag her hand up and down the length of his cock.

“Yeah?” He whispered out huskily, his lips parted and cheeks pink as he continued to stare up at her, “Did your pretty tang miss me?” He teased, making her eyelashes flutter as he began to rub his thumb against her throbbing clit.

“Wanna feel for yourself?” She giggled softly, her body alighting into sparks as she pulled her panties aside slowly. She brought his long fingers against her wet folds. She whined at the feeling, grinding herself against his digits as a hazy expression grew over his features.

“Little slut,” He teased, his voice raspy as he continued to press his fingers against her slick pussy. He chewed on his bottom lip as he stared up at her, “Wanna ride my cock?” He questioned, looking a little desperate as he wiggled himself back onto the bed.

She grinned, enjoying the way his eyes stayed locked onto her as she slowly pressed his pink tip against her fluttering hole. She gaped at the feeling, rolling her hips forward so his cock slowly slid inside of her.

She moaned at the feeling, completely in awe at the sensation of being filled by him once again. Her walls slightly burned at the intrusion before she quickly welcomed him, sinking down on him slowly as the pleasure shot through her body.

“Daphne,” He groaned as he took a hold of her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he slowly lifted her an inch forward before he pressed her roughly back down. She whimpered in awe of being filled full of him, “Jesus, fuck.”

She pressed her hands against the side of his face, gently holding him as she raised his head slowly. She brushed her lips against his gently, savoring the taste of his groans against her mouth as she adjusted to the stretch of his cock.

“Feels good,” She whimpered as she slowly began to gain a rhythm, her mind fuzzy and eyes closing as she held onto him. She felt a cry leave her lips at the sensation of his cock pressing against her bundle of nerves, sending tingles of pleasure all through her body, “Gator! Oh God.” She whined, unsure of how someone could make her feel so good.

His fingertips continued to dig into her skin as he ghosted a series of kisses along her mouth, slowly thrusting his hips up with her movements as she moved her palms to his shoulders. She held onto him tightly, feeling her own moans rolling off of her tongue as she continued to rock herself along the length of his cock.

She savored the drag of his cock, the way he curved and throbbed inside of her spongy walls. Her palms grew warm against his skin and her hips ached from how tightly he was gripping her. She didn’t push him away, rather encouraged him as she pressed herself down harder against his thick cock.

“You’re so pretty,” He mumbled as he brought his hands up to her tits, squeezing them in his hands as she continued to rock against him, “So fucking beautiful.” He grunted, his eyebrows furrowing together as he began to thrust up into her harder. She whined, enjoying the growing sound of their bodies meeting as it filled the room.

She found it hard to answer, her pussy clamping down around him as she felt another rush of pleasure rush through her body as he began to roll her nipples between his thick fingers. Her body felt on fire as his hands continued to wander over the curve of her body, like he was memorizing her.

“You’re pretty,” She whispered softly between her gasps, enjoying the way his eyes widened and a fresh flush spread over his skin. She leaned down again, switching her position just a bit as she pressed a sloppy kiss against his parted lips. He groaned, moving his hands to her backside as he rutted up into her lazily, “Oh, fuck.” She whined, clinging to him as she felt her orgasm approaching.

He held onto her tightly, rocking his cock deep inside of her as she came with a cry. She whined as her forehead fell against his, her moans loud as her walls fluttered around his thick girth. She clung to him, her skin sweaty and breathing labored as she felt her strength slipping away.

“Fuck, fuck,” Gator cursed against the side of her cheek, sending shivers down her ear as he thrusted up roughly. His movements began to stall, his sounds more desperate as he bottomed out inside of her, “Jesus, fuck.” He cursed, his cock throbbing as he came inside of her.

She whimpered, clearly knowing that they should be safer but for the time being she didn’t care. She had missed him too much to bother being worried about it at the moment. She rested against him, her body shaking as he began to brush his lips against the side of her neck.

She panted softly, enjoying the sensation of him breathing against her skin as they both came down from their high. She brushed her fingers through his long locks, thinking about how lucky she was to have him. Even through their mistakes and hardships. They were meant to be.

Life was good.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #Gator tillman fluff #gator tillman angst #gator tillman x oc #Gator TIllman x original character #Gator Tillman x fem!oc #Gator Tillman x female!original character #Dad!Gator Tillman #Daphne x Gator #Gator x Daphne

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pennys-thick-thighs · 2 years

Text

ASGARDIAN | JENNIFER WALTERS

warnings: reader is taller than jen, they/them pronouns are used, use of y/n (im sorry, i forgot to write it in second person)

—

jennifer didn’t exactly know what she was getting herself into when she told bruce she’d let his asgardian friend stay with her for a few weeks. she assumed that y/n would know the basics of earth, which they did, but she didn’t realise that the space-woman would find the smallest things to be absolutely baffling. jen had spent over an hour explaining what a blender was because it scared them when she tried to make soup.

everything was going fairly smoothly and they enjoyed one another’s company, but jen didn’t know that they were completely infactuated by her.

since jen had started to go on dates, however, y/n spent less time in the flat with her but not a lot of the dates would ever stay over after she realised they were only interested in learning about gamma rays and super-strength. one man though had slept with jen and stayed over, y/n unknowing as they got home late from shopping. they’d spent a lot of their time working out how to get out of a revolving door.

knowing jen was sleeping, y/n started to make breakfast for them both, having perfected a pancake recipe. they even made fresh orange juice for her, despite hating it and preferring apple juice. as y/n was placing a second pancake on what would be jen’s plate, they heard a yawn and turned to see jen walking out of her bedroom, wearing one of their t-shirts which was loosely hanging off her frame.

“morning.” jen smiled, a little happier than she usually was when she woke up.

“hello.” the asgardian returned, placing pancakes in front of her with a glass of orange juice. “i tried to get the bits out, but… it’s a lot harder than you make it look.”

“it’s perfect, don’t worry.” jen smiled, sipping the juice and giving them a slightly exaggerated hum of approval before she turned to take her pancakes onto the sofa as y/n ducked their head down to hide the grin on their face. jen got a text from nikki suddenly and turned on the tv, following her friends orders.

“supporters of the fire titania movement are celebrating today as the super-powered influencer has been cleared of all charges…”

“boo.” jen mumbled as y/n moved to join her in the living room.

“-relating to an earlier incident at the metropolitan courthouse.”

“um, who are you?” a male voice asked and y/n looked the man up and down, clear confusion on their face. the man also seemed confused at the tall person stood next to jen.

“um, jen.” the short woman answered with a smile and a shrug. “just not in hulk form. just jen.” she laughed nervously, which only added to y/n’a confusion. why should she be nervous?

“oh. um… cool. cool.” he said, clearly disappointed.

“yeah.” jen nodded.

“that’s cool. unexpected.” he added.

“i can make more breakfast.” y/n said, already walking back to the kitchen, although they frowned when jen couldn’t see their face.

“yeah, i’m gonna go.” he replied awkwardly and jen’s face dropped. “and don’t worry about the sweater.”

jen looked to her side, mumbling, “whatever. hot doctor’s a cliche, anyway.”

“who are you talking to? is he still there?” y/n asked, coming back to jen’s side.

“um, no, just myself.” jen answered.

“oh. i thought you looked to your side. perhaps i saw wrong.” y/n shrugged and jen hummed quietly, saddened. “are you sad? about him leaving?”

“i just thought he wouldn’t be that disappointed. i mean, it’s obvious that i’d turn back into a normal human, isn’t it?” jen scoffed.

“yes.” y/n nodded firmly. “he does not know what he is missing.”

“that’s sweet of you.” jen smiled widely to herself, not sure why her cheeks were slightly warmer.

“it is true.” y/n stated brightly as they both sat down. “can we watch the puppets?”

“the muppets? yeah.”

days after having gone on the failed date, jen seemed to be happier again, forgetting about that pointless excuse of a man. y/n was no closer to losing their feelings for jen, they just wished jen would reciprocate those feelings.

during the middle of the night, jen got up to get herself a drink when she heard a faint mumbling coming from y/n’s room. assuming they were only sleep talking, she went to go back to her own room but they suddenly yelled out a pained ‘no!’ which took the lawyer by surprise. she placed her glass down and pushed open the door to the asgardian’s room, seeing them twisting around in the bed sheets, face scrunched in pain.

bruce had warned jen that they would potentially have nightmares/flashback and had in the past but since y/n had started staying in her flat, they hadn’t had one. rushing to their side, jen started to shake them gently, mumbling their name softly until they sat up sharply, breathing heavily, eyes wide and alert. sitting down on the side of their bed, jen cupped their cheeks and made them focus on her.

“jenny?” they asked, clearly frightened of whatever they were dreaming about.

“you’re okay.” jen assured and y/n’s shaking hands reached up to hold onto her wrists lightly, nodding as they swallowed thickly. “you’re not in… where ever you were anymore, okay?”

“yes.” y/n nodded, their breathing calming slightly. once the panic had drained from their eyes, jen let go of their face but stayed close to them, worried. “sorry for waking you.”

“you didn’t wake me, i was dying from my lack of water.” jen smiled and y/n shuffled over on the bed so she could sit down.

“i said you needed to drink more at work, jen.” they said softly. “you will get a headache.”

“i know! i keep forgetting, i’ve have lots of paperwork recently.” jen said before gently intertwining her fingers with the asgardian’s. “wanna talk about it? your nightmare.”

“it was not a nightmare, more of a bad memory.” y/n muttered, averting their eyes from jen’s.

“bruce mentioned how asgard was destroyed.” jen hummed lightly.

they shook their head, thumb running over jen’s knuckles, “no. well, yes, it was destroyed horribly, but losing the actual planet didn’t matter. the memory was of a battle. it all went well, but i got caught during the middle of the battle. they tortured me for a few hours, but i got out with help.”

“jesus, that’s awful.” jen stated and y/n chuckled with a small nod.

“it is fine, though. i got out, no need for me to cry about it any longer.” they replied, forcing a smile for jen who didn’t believe it even slightly.

“you’re allowed to be upset by being tortured in the past.” jen stated. “in fact, i’d expect it to be worse than it has been.”

“i suppose, but there is no use holding onto the past.” they shrugged simply. “i have to just let it go.”

“not if it’s still upsetting you. hey, sometimes i get upset about when i fell in front of a bunch of people and that was years ago.” jen smiled making them laugh lightly.

a small silence passed them and y/n hesitantly spoke up again, “would you mind sleeping in here with me? or just for a moment? i do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

“yeah, that’s fine.” jen nodded and pulled herself under the covers with them.

the pair of them lay down and jen couldn’t help but grin wider when she felt y/n arm curl around her abdomen, her back pressed to their front. with the comfort of jen in their arms, y/n fell asleep not long after they had lay down and with warmth coming from the asgardian behind her, jen was asleep too, only minutes later.

the next morning, y/n was the first to wake up from the sun coming through the blinds. in the night, jen had rolled over, her face laying on their chest. smiling, y/n lifted a hand to play gently with jen’s curls, feeling the woman hum happily in her sleep, her fingers holding onto the waistband of their shorts. deciding against getting up and risking waking up jen, they stayed there, playing with the lawyers hair, which only lulled her into a deeper sleep.

when jen woke up, she didn’t move away from y/n. checking if they were awake. she found them just staring at her so smiled sleepily, “you’re so creepy, i hope you know that.”

y/n frowned and looked away, choosing to look at the window, “sorry. i did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“no, no, i was only joking.” jen assured; the asgardian sometimes had trouble with sarcasm.

“oh, okay then.” y/n said in relief and looked back down at her.

“what time is it?” jen questioned, leaning back on their chest.

“i am not sure. i have not checked.” y/n said.

“how long have you been awake?” jen asked.

“an hour or so.” y/n replied.

jen looked back up at them, “and you haven’t moved at all for an hour?”

“i did not want to wake you, jen.” y/n smiled and jen smiled back with a light blush. “i will make you breakfast now!”

“no, stay here.” jen denied, pulling them closer when they tried to get out of bed.

“okay.” they agreed easily.

jen shuffled up the pillow to make herself level with y/n and her eyes caught their lips. softly, jen pressed her lips to theirs, feeling them still against her in shock before the kiss was returned gently. y/n hand pressed to her cheek lovingly as their eyes closed and they kissed jen back, not even slightly over the fact she was kissing them.

the kiss grew slightly heated, y/n tracing their tongue over jen’s bottom lip before her mouth opened slightly, allowing them to make out properly. jen threw a leg over their hips, straddling them as y/n’s hand moved to gently pull at the woman’s hair, making her moan quietly into the kiss. jen was suddenly extremely thankful that bruce had to leave his hut on the beach for a while.

—

i may do a part two with smut if anyone reads this lmao

also, how tf do you make this so it splits. where you have to click on something to get the full fic but you don’t leave the app? i can’t explain shit, hopefully someone understands me-

#jennifer walters x reader #jennifer walters #marvel #marvel x reader #asgard #asgardian #asgardian!reader

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yomiurinikei · 1 year

Note

OH for holdiay asks how about yuki and/or utsuro?

YAY my boys i adore them… gingers baking gingerbread-

anyways!! gonna do this for yuki/utsuro following my system hc, so they can just. both exist, along with yuuki <333

yuki i feel… wouldn’t be very into the holiday spirit, but would do things to celebrate just because? like, his heart is not filled with warmth, he doesn’t feel the joy of the holiday spirit, but he’ll go walk around and look at christmas light displays because he thinks they look nice, and because they’ll only be around for a bit… similarly i think he’d join in on things like secret santa to be part of the group (he is suchhh a normal boy who is sooooo with the norm), but wouldn’t go sign up if it wasn’t a class event, yknow? he’s not a scrooge about the season, but i think he’s happier in the summer. that being said, i think he likes the flavors of winter best? likes warm soup and ramen, and is happiest during the season that oranges are in peak (both a genuine “he gives off a citrus enjoyer vibe” comment, and a “lol ginger” joke). likes hot chocolate, but aiko thinks all eggnog is alcoholic, so he’s never gotten around to trying it.

utsuro was probably enamored with all holidays as a kid, i can see him “learning” a ton about all the different ~30 holidays celebrated in the holiday season,,, which. uhm. he has a ton of serotonin now! totally!! he’s not miserable!! i can imagine… it’s during this time that he’ll occasionally feel smthn, but. it just ranges between temporary “oh hey look, happiness exists” and then. feeling slightly worse about everything because he’s. not doing very well. anyways though. because of this, i think he’d go along with getting dragged into events, as he’s generally p passive, but i think if he actually engaged and participated, he’d get a drop or two of dopamine. not a total fanatic, and doesn’t even really recognize the impact that the season of giving has on him (despite…. his whole thing being blessing people……) but he’s more impacted by it than yuki.

also, not to go “hey why doesn’t anyone talk about the fact that god with a capital g is canon to the another universe and has been fairly proven to exist within the universe, meaning the characters should be aware of the existence of a higher power which can be proven, which is. A Lot.” but anyways. do you think religious holidays like christmas, ones which celebrate religious figures, should be rededicated to utsuro.

#dra #sdra2 #utsuro #yuki maeda #holiday posting #my boys <333… i really just think they’re both prone to getting gently tugged into things #yuki is more likely to seek things out of his own accord utsuro is more likely to enjoy himself

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the1975attheirverybest · 10 months

Note

Hi sorry for this long post I submit because this has been brewing in my head for a while.

I think Matty (and most likely the band) is at this weird space of wanting to be bigger but reluctant to be famous if that makes sense. When the NYT profile came out, I was really surprised because that was clearly a planned profile and been in the work for a while. That to me seems like a sign that they were ready to step into the spotlight a bit more.

From my observation, Matty is really the only one who seems to enjoy being a celebrity? I don't know if enjoy is the right word, but he is definitely the most comfortable. I also feel like the other 3 are becoming more private than before. Like remember all the snapchats and IG stories from their tour before BFIAFL? (Good times, I miss them so much). I wish we had them for this tour.

Although that might be a decision they take as part of BFIAFL promo because I remember Coup De Main replied my tweet about them interviewing the boys in NZ and they said that they are not doing interview for the tour. (That was also interesting on its own cause it's makes me think that maybe Matty wanted people to hear from him through the show rather than his words).

But anyway my point is, Matty is definitely ready to get bigger as he believes that they are at their very best, but also they don't know how to navigate being famous.

Matty’s relationship to fame is VERY, VERY interesting to me. Both in terms of how he think of it and how he comes off to the audience. And a major part of how he presents himself. I would say it might have changed slightly over the years, but in general it’s been the same. You’re right, maybe “enjoy” isn’t the right word. Maybe like “gets something out of it” is kind of more accurate? Like, to him, there’s a pay-off. In a way that maybe George, Adam, and Ross don’t feel.

There’s a reason they USED to do interviews as a group way back in the day, but then stopped. I think they came to the realization that Matty is both comfortable doing it and enough. Like they don’t all NEED to do it. And it works. Well, I guess it did until the podcast.

I think the trickiness also comes from the bands own ethos. The 1975 was never meant to be a big mainstream band. (I’m not saying they shouldn’t/ don’t qualify or don’t deserve it because they absolutely do.) the whole thing of being super informal and in an open dialogue with their own fans, not hiring a PR team, operating DH as a small, indie label with the fewest external influence possible, etc. all of that works on smaller scales fairly well. And they’ve managed to do it for years. But now that the band has gotten bigger, that kind of thing doesn’t work anymore. We’ve felt it ourselves. The fandom itself has changed.

And I think they’re in this limbo right now of trying to figure out where they go from here. are they going to pivot and do the mainstream thing? Is there a new way of doing things that scales up? Takes into consideration their current status and allows room for them to grow? Do they just stick to who/ what they’ve been for the past decades and let the current momentum that they’ve built go, taper off, and lose public interest?

JUST before all this kicked off Matty said that he’s as famous as he ever wants to be and thinks that if he got more famous things would get complicated and off-putting. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, lol. Another day, another matty statement being prescient.

FOR ME, at least, the thing that makes me uneasy about him pulling things back/ being more private/ no longer being online and informal is that I’m not really sure what’s going on with him. Is he scared and backed into a corner and he just thought “I don’t wanna say anything too soon and fuck things up”? Is he silent until he figures it all out and then he’ll come back? Is this just the new band ethos? Silence and just promo/ tour material? Like this uncertainty sometimes feels like it makes ME uncertain about my relationship to the band. Because so much of artist-fan dynamics are based on certain structures or expectations or types of interactions. Like, each fandom has its own “culture.”

This is NO SHADE to Swifties or Harries, but if you notice, they each have their own ways of interacting with Taylor/ Harry that are completely foreign to us as 1975 fans. That’s cuz our relationship to Matty and the boys is different from their relationship to Taylor or to Harry. So there’s just this kind of….idk. Discomfort or unease, or something, within me. Where I’m like “if I could figure out how I’m SUPPOSED to feel about all this. Things would be simpler. Lol”

But I also strongly believe in giving them the time and space to figure it out. To me, that’s also part of what it means to be a fan. Be supportive even when you don’t know everything / have the art in front of you. It’s gotta be a weird time for them navigating all this. And they’ll get it faster if we’re not making their lives needlessly more complicated. So, I’m alright waiting. Just missing Matty/ feeling a tad confused.

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buttercream-squad-imagines · 3 years

Text

Tinder in Real Life

Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Sidemen x platonic!Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: Language some people may find offensive, sexual themes, recycled lines from Sidemen Tinder in Real Life because I'm not at all creative Request: Hey! Could you do reader x Harry imagine where the sidemen do a collab video with the reader who is also a big youtuber and Harrys celebrity crush. And during the video the reader is very flirty, leaving Harry a flustered mess when the flirting is directed towards him, but very jealous when its with any other sidemen.

The Sidemen were one of the biggest groups on YouTube and one that you were very familiar with. At the age of 23, you were a fair bit younger than some of its oldest members but yet you had a close relationship with JJ, whom you had met through YouTube.

You had started your channel when you were 17, just under four years ago, making makeup videos, which was a passion of yours when you were younger. Not that you were any good at it back then. Those videos quickly become unlisted when your channel started blowing up in late 2016, now nearing 20 million at the present time.

It wasn't long before you expanded your horizons and had started making different sorts of videos, including vlogs of your everyday life - which wasn't and still isn't that exciting in your opinion - and those where you just had a laugh, attempting to do stupid challenges that were so popular back then. It was those, however, that grew your channel. Your fans seemed to love them and so you gradually started to make more.

As your small channel began to grow significantly, it caught the attention of KSI, a member of the Sidemen, who reached out to you to for a collab. You were ecstatic. You couldn't believe it at the time, why would someone like KSI with 20 million subscribers want to collaborate with you? By that time, you couldn't exactly call yourself a small channel anymore, with almost 5 million subscribers but it still didn't make any sense to you.

You and JJ quickly bonded after filming together. You had a very similar sense of humour and interests. As the years went, the older boy became one of your best friends, the nature of your relationship being very teasing and flirtatious but the both of you knew it was a joke. It was just the way you both were.

Though despite having known him for nearing 3 years now, you had never met the rest of the Sidemen, with the exception of Simon, as he lived with JJ. Which is why when he texted asking you to collaborate with the Sidemen, you couldn't turn the offer down. You were a fan of the group and the content they were producing. You thought the videos that they made were exceptional, that they were pushing the envelope of the standard of content on YouTube and often found yourself excited for new videos.

He had explained that they were filming another of their 'Tinder in real life' but a YouTuber version with the likes of BambinoBecky and ChiWithAC. You were so excited. You were finally going to meet the rest of JJ's friends and you had the opportunity to be a part of a Sidemen Sunday.

You arrived at the studio the boys were filming at in the afternoon, finding and greeting JJ before he introduced you to the other sidemen in addition to Lux, Freezy and Stephen.

"And you've already met Simon." He finished.

"Yeah. Nice to finally meet you all. JJ tells me a lot about you guys." You laughed.

"Because that's assuring." Ethan pointed out with a chuckle, the other boys letting out agreements.

"Not all bad, I promise." You teased, winking at him. Ethan felt the blood rushing to his face, immediately becoming flustered and stumbling over his words. You found that you often had that effect on people as you could be very direct and flirtatious even when you didn't mean it. To you it was just friendly banter.

"Geez Y/N, stop flirting with people you met literally five minutes ago." JJ rolled his eyes.

"You sound a bit jealous, Jide." You smirked, a teasing grin spread across your face.

"Nah, allow it." There were eruptions of laughter around the room, coming from the boys. You were quick to notice Harry standing out of the way and was significantly quieter than the others, with what seemed to be a forced smile on his face.

Harry was in his own head, barely paying attention to what was going on around him. When JJ had told him that you were going to be in the next Sidemen video, he panicked. You were an accomplished YouTuber who he was quite fond of to say the least. Well, that would be an understatement, he had a fairly large crush on you. A crush that no one but Freezy and Lux knew about.

He knew that JJ had been friends with you for some time now but never considered the possibility of even meeting you. His anxiety acted as a barrier to even the thought of it. But he was currently in the same room as you and had said nothing more than a short 'hello'. He longed to have the confidence Ethan had to speak to you, even more so for you to look at him the way you were.

Already you were flirting with JJ and Ethan, something that caused a pit to form at the bottom of his stomach. He wouldn't admit it, but he could slowly feel the jealousy forming. Not that he had anything to be jealous about in the first place!

You continued to speak with the boys as you got your mic set up, telling them stories you were sure would embarrass JJ.

"Y/N, stop." The older boy whined. He could be like a child sometimes, but it was one of his more endearing qualities. He simply wouldn't be JJ if he wasn't.

"No, carry on." Simon laughed.

"Oh, don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from." You teased.

"I think it's time we started, don't you think?" Harry grumbled.

"Right." You smiled at the boy, who's cheeks became tinted red. He ducked to hide his face and walked around to stand in the line, hiding himself in the middle.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I'm 23 and I'm from Y/H/T." You spoke to the camera once you were given the go ahead.

"I'm Simon, I'm 28. I like to practice safe sex."

"Always a good start."

"I could tie you to the bed, so you don't fall off." He finished with a giggle. You acted like you were pondering it for a moment before letting out a laugh and swiping right.

"I'm down for that." You teased. The boys all let out rumbles of laughter

"Hi, I'm Ethan, I'm 26 and kiss me if I'm wrong, but you're gonna swipe right."

"What would you rather?" You joked. Ethan shrugged his shoulders and walked closer to the board, sticking his head through with his lips puckered, eliciting a cry of protest from Harry that this wasn't allowed. You laughed and made an over exaggerated motion to swipe to the right, causing him to pout playfully but walked over to the right anyway.

"Hi, I'm Josh, I'm 28. KSI has a top ten single, but you're the only hot single I can see."

"Wow, that was smooth!" You said with a grin. "Definite yes from me."

"I'm Callum, I'm 26. Are you into fitness?" Freezy asked.

"Can't say I am." You replied, unsure of what turn this could take.

"How about you fitness dick in your mouth?"

"I wouldn't get too excited babes, I gag on my toothbrush." You laughed. "We could try though."

You swiped right on him, chuckling as you watched him let out a yes before joining Simon, Ethan, and Josh. You frowned slightly, a crease forming between your brows as you saw Harry whisper something furiously at his friend but ultimately got distracted by Vik stepping up to go next.

"I'm Vik, I'm 25. My ex-girlfriend always said I'd never do better than her, wanna prove her right?" You could hear the cries of the boys in the background, some scolding him, others laughing.

"Man actually said prove her right. Not wrong." JJ shrieked with a shocked look on his face, holding his head with his hands.

"You need to find someone for that." You snarked, swiping left on the boy, who shrugged and walked off.

"Damn! You got told!" Lux cackled.

"Uh hi. I'm Harry. I'm uh 25, no I'm not I'm 24." He stumbled. "Are you sure you're a muggle? Because that ass is magical."

"You should see how magical it can be." You spoke before cringing at yourself and laughing, swiping right to avoid a reply. The boy's face grew a bright shade of red, closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

"Geez, is that an offer?!" Freezy yelled from the right side. You laughed, observing how Harry whispered furiously to the boy to stop and winked at him once he had could see. Your laughter only increased as you watched JJ step up.

"I'm JJ. I'm 28 and are you a raisin? Cause you're raising my dick." The boy in question stood in front of you so confidently, hands clasped together in front of him so seriously that you just lost it. By the time you composed yourself, there were tears almost falling from your eyes.

"A* for effort." You laughed, swiping right eliciting a cry of success.

You had wrapped up filming your segment of the video, which conveniently was the last of the day. You found JJ who you spoke to whilst the other boys were otherwise occupied talking to each other.

"Cheers for coming, Y/N/N. You've been great."

"Anything for you." You joked.

"Don't tempt me." He laughed. You could feel eyes on you, eyes that were burning into your side. You turned your head to see Harry staring you and JJ down before looking away after being caught in the act, and suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Does Harry not like me or something?" You whispered to JJ, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Not that I know of." He frowned looking at the younger boy. "He can be a bit awkward at times and gets flustered a lot."

"Right." You agreed. You excused yourself before sauntering up to the boy in question, calling his name to snap him out of the daze he appeared to be in.

"Oh, um hey Y/N." He stumbled.

"Hi." You smiled gently. "I uh, I was just wondering, do you... have I done something to offend you?"

"Offend me? Why, uh, why would you think that?" He rambled.

"It's just... it's nothing, it's probably just me overthinking things." You waved it off, feeling like a complete idiot.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I don't like you. I don't not like you, in fact I really like you! Oh, um I mean I like you, you're very pretty." The boy couldn't stop rambling which made you laugh. "No, wait."

"You think I'm pretty?" You blushed interrupting him. Harry felt his mouth go dry, not being able to get anything coherent to come out. "Well, Harry, I really like you too."

"What?" His eyebrows shot up so far it was almost comical. "Really? So, you don't like the other guys?"

"What? No." You laughed. "That's absurd. Why would you think that?"

"You seemed very..." The boy trailed off, not wanting to offend you after you had admitted to liking him.

"Flirty?" You finished, causing him to nod. "I'm like that with everyone, I don't mean to be half the time."

"Oh."

"Well, how about you give me your phone number and when you finally grow a pair, you can ask me out?" Your confidence levels had shot up spontaneously.

"Uh, sure." His cheeks had become a dark shade of red as he passed his phone to you so you could put your number in. You kept looking up at him as you typed, putting your name under 'Y/N x' in his contacts before handing it back to him.

"Y/N! Come on! We're going to Nando's!" JJ called from the other side of the room.

"Call me." You winked. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and was currently the only thing from stopping the wide grin from spreading across your face. A grin that hadn't disappeared from your face for the rest of the day, much to the curiosity of JJ, who was disappointed when you refused to tell him why, or more appropriately who, had put the smile on your face.

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astranva · 3 years

Text

Falling Duet

Word Count: 2.4k

Category: Fluff but it’s so 🥺

Warning: Nothing

Request: harry dating singer!reader: he has to perform at some awards and he invites her to sing with him but no one else knows? love your writing🤧❤

Summary: You and Harry sing an unreleased version of Falling at an award show.

The lyrics used are of “Falling (other POV)” by THE cutie, Ally Naso 🤍

// masterlist //

**reposted bc tumblr is messing up the tags & nobody can view it. sigh.

It all started when a friend of yours had recorded you singing in your school’s bathroom during senior year.

7 years ago, you wouldn’t have believed it if somebody told you that you would be a 13-time Grammy nominated artist, as well as having 6 of that very award sitting on your shelf at your childhood home – one for Best Artist, and one for Album of the year.

You would have laughed even.

But it wasn’t a joke nor was it a dream you wished to never wake up from; it was as real as life could be.

You were successful in the industry and if any of your fans were asked, they would say that it was because of your immense talent and unproblematic, empathetic, kind character.

It was one of the many reasons why so many people on the internet had shipped you with a certain English man, him having been only 20 when you went viral and got signed.

A year into the industry, it was one day when you remember your Twitter notifications going crazy;

“HARRY STYLES JUST SAID HE LOVES YOUR MUSIC AND THINKS YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL”

“omg pls tell us you watched 1d’s interview with jimmy kimmel”

“IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING! CAN YOU PLEASE BE TOGETHER ALREADY???”

Looking back at that memory, you remember how you were a shaking and overwhelmed mess as you had clicked on the link everybody was sending you.

The video had begun with the audience cheering as the camera was on Jimmy and the 5 men near him.

And there he sat; in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, medium-length hair looking like he had run his fingers through many times, his hands clasped as he looked at Jimmy.

“Who’s most likely to let a woman split the band?” Jimmy had asked.

They had looked at each other, not answering for a moment before Niall chimed in with a laugh as he pointed at Harry, “Harry would let his celebrity crush do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes jokingly as his bandmates agreed and laughed, slapping his hands against his thighs in feigned annoyance.

“Who is that? Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Just this talented person.” He had tried to smile his way through the question, but no one was having it.

“You know Y/N Y/L/N? She’s an amazing singer,” Louis told Jimmy.

“Y/N!” Jimmy beamed, “We had her on the show two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, he watched that.” Liam had gestured towards Harry.

Hiding his face in his hands for a moment, the audience cheered as his friends continued to laugh.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Jimmy asked Harry in a teasing manner.

Having had decided to get it over with, Harry nodded as he clasped his hands together again, “She’s very talented and beautiful.”

“Lovie, can you help me with the necklace? My nails are still drying.”

You looked up from your place on the couch, sitting in your long dress looking so beautiful that Harry had lost track of time of getting into his own suit because he was too busy giving you a photoshoot on his phone.

Standing up, you reached and clasped his necklace for him, dusting his shoulders to signal that you were done.

Turning, you were met with your boyfriend of 4 years beaming at you before he leaned to press his lips against yours.

“You look so good.” You smiled up at him, “So beautiful.”

“Have to try to catch up with how you look tonight,” he replied with a wide smile, “Nervous?”

“Not really.” You admitted.

Amusingly and completely and utterly in love, Harry tilted his head slightly, “Any reason why you’re not? You usually hate those.”

It was true. You didn’t really like award shows because of how tiresome all the process was; hair, makeup, dressing up, walking only to pause every second, the repeated questions you have been answering for years, how more judgmental the world was on nights like these.

But it was always when Harry was able to be by your side that you liked the night, and the tall man knew it, but he had always loved hearing you say it.

To feed his ego, you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Because you’ll be there.”

“Music to my ears.” He joked, shaking his head slightly.

“Just feeding that already overfed ego of yours, baby.”

“Excuse you.” He pecked your lips, “Let me add food for Evie then we can leave.”

“I’ll do it, don’t mess up your nails.” You patted his chest before moving away to attend to your cat.

The fans and reporters all had anticipated the moment of yours and boyfriend’s arrival, and the both of you knew it.

You were fairly private with your relationship. While everyone knew you were together, the both of you didn’t always post about one another but when you did, it went viral – something you and Harry, shamelessly, enjoyed.

It was why during moments like this, everyone was eager. Reporters were hungry for content, all having different intentions, but you spend enough time in the industry and you sort of begin knowing what to say and how to say it.

Harry was scheduled to perform, something everyone knew of, but it was the fact that you were joining him not on the red carpet, but on stage that they didn’t.

Getting out of the car together, the screams and flashing lights were then doubled.

Harry closed the door behind you with a polite smile to the security standing. Bending a little, he adjusted your dress’s short train for you as you looked back at it before you looked up at him.

As if they weren’t snapping pictures like crazy yet, you reached and fixed Harry’s hair at the front, his eyes looking up with a smile as you did so.

“Thanks, love.”

With that, Harry placed his arm around your waist as you walked to the first spot on the red carpet.

“When was the last time we appeared together? They’re going mad.” You whispered, looking at Harry as he smiled to the cameras.

He chuckled, looking at you, “I think we deprive them too much.”

“Let’s give them enough content to last a year.”

Nobody but the both of you knew what you meant, and it was why the flashing lights and camera shutter sounds were then tripled the moment Harry’s lips were on yours in a soft kiss.

“Can we sign stuff?” You asked a woman standing on the sides, “Can we see the fans?”

When she nodded at you, you and Harry ignored posing for a few minutes to converse and meet fans.

“I love you and Harry so much!” One fan said shakily as you signed a paper for him.

“Thank yo- Hey! I saw you in Amsterdam last year, right?” You grinned.

And that was another thing not only your fans loved about you, but Harry, too.

You were no stranger to connections. You were no stranger to making people feel seen and treating them in a way that no fan expected to be treated – a friend, and you remember friends.

“Harry, do you think Y/N will win Songwriter of the Year?” A fan asked.

Harry shrugged with a smile, “I hope so but we all know she is anyway.” He waved his hand with a joking manner, making the closest fans laugh.

“What about you? Do you think you’ll win Artist of the Year?”

“I don’t know,” he smiled, “There are so many amazing artists. I wish them all the best.”

“He’s a humble man,” you teased, patting his shoulder, “We all know he is anyway.”

You were confused as they, Harry included, laughed in shock. “What?”

“He literally has just said the same thing about you.”

You laughed, looking at Harry, “Shut up, no way!”

“The both of you have been doing that for years.” One fan commented with a grin, “It’s adorable. It’s like telepathy or something.”

“Oh yeah, we are telepathic,” Harry nodded, “It gets a little scary sometimes.”

“Heeey!” You laughed, “It’s actually helpful. One of us would be just walking at home and we’d look at each other and know that the other just means something like “feed Evie” or “take out the trash””

“This is so cute!”

“Harry, what are you performing tonight?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.” He pointed.

Shortly, you and Harry had to take more pictures and do interviews before you were escorted inside.

It was the little moments that fans also lived for; how Harry held your hand as you sat so discreetly, how the both of you chatted and giggled among one another and those around you, how Harry fist-bumped the air the moment your name was called to receive your award of Songwriter of the Year before kissing you. It was how they knew this was real – how love wasn’t something you only listen people sing about or write novels for.

It was in how Harry’s eyes didn’t move from you as you gave your speech, a wide smile on his face and eyes resembling twinkling stars for crying out loud.

It was in how you ended your speech with: “This is to the man who has inspired and pushed me forward to write every single day. I love you.”

It was in how you looked more nervous than Harry himself when his category was called before you were the first to get out of your seat with a happy “yes!” once they announced that he won.

It was in how Harry cupped your face that moment to kiss you before walking to receive his award.

It was in how you remained standing, those behind you only smiling instead of being annoyed, with your hands clutched together against your heart, tearful eyes, and the brightest smile in the room.

“You’re going to tell me this is cheesy,” Harry chuckled slightly, giving a shrug as he looked at you, “But I wouldn’t be standing here, holding this, if it weren’t for you. I love you, too.”

But then Harry was about to perform and you weren’t in your seat.

The award show had decided to make a skit of it, the host being Miley had held her microphone as she stood in the empty isle beside yours and Harry’s empty seats.

“We know Harry Styles is performing in minutes,” she said, looking at the camera with a playful smile, “But where is Y/N Y/L/N? We know, we know,” she nodded, “Probably backstage for some extra good luck but-” people laughed, causing Miley to pause and chuckle, “But seriously, guys. There’s a show and it must go on.”

“It’s going on.” Harry said from backstage into his mic before the stage went dark.

It wasn’t until piano tunes sounded that the arena grew dim, a spotlight on the piano at the center of the stage where you sat, your fingers gentle against the keys as you played the beginning notes of Falling.

“I'm in my bed,

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands.” Harry sang as he came on stage, holding the mic in his hand before taking a seat beside you.

Everyone had expected him to sing the next verse, but it wasn’t his voice that they then heard.

“I'm in my bed

Instead of yours

Cried to sleep turned off all of lights and locked all of the doors.” You sang, eyes on the piano keys.

“Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left.” His eyes were on you, body turned slightly towards you as he felt like the both of you were in your living room in front of your white piano.

“I replay what you said

Don’t know if it’s true

Left with two broken hearts and there’s nothing that we could undo.” You sang, closing your eyes as you got ready for the chorus.

“What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What am I now? What am I now?

Don’t want to cry ‘cause I can’t stand the sound

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

The both of you sang together, your voice being softer and quieter than Harry’s.

“What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

What if you’re someone I can’t live without?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

It was a version nobody had heard before, and it was why everyone was quiet, the only sound coming from you, Harry, and your lone instrument.

It was something you had written together following a rough patch of your relationship, and everyone knew that it was more personal with the way the both of you sang.

When his eyes weren’t closed, Harry sang as he looked at you, and he knew that performing this song meant more to the both of you than anyone could imagine. One look at your face and Harry knew you were reliving the night of when the both of you had written this; eyes a little red from crying, bodies hot, Harry wearing a hoodie of yours while you sat in your underwear with his purple fluffy robe on.

“Can I do this alone without ever needing you again?”

“And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.”

You both sang the bridge together, yours being shorter than Harry’s note as you carried a softer tone, closing your eyes as you played the piano, feeling your throat close up before gulping.

He knew.

It was why the final chorus was sung softer and quieter, Harry’s forehead resting against your temple for a moment as the both of you sang.

“I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.” Harry finished, putting his mic down as he stared at you with a small smile, watching you in your element as you played.

Managing to look at him as you played single soft notes, you sang, “I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.”

You played the end single notes, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and a bashful smile.

It was like you were unaware to the erupted cheer and round of applause, you threw your arms around Harry, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

Crying from the overwhelming emotions, you were thankful your mascara was waterproof. You called it.

“I love you,” Harry whispered in your ear, “I love you so much.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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walkuntilthedaylight · 3 years

Text

The people have spoken! How can I not give them what they want?

I'm gonna put this all under a cut, since it's a bit long, and also because it's highly interpretative/speculative and not everyone likes those kinds of posts as they can be rather subjective and, I suppose, invasive. I want to give two major caveats to my thoughts below: first is that I tend not to buy the idea that Paul was the "stable/normal" Beatle, mostly b/c I view marijuana dependency and workaholism as addictions and I take them pretty seriously. Second is that I really do love this kind of tabloid/gossip/personal account shit; I think it should be taken with a handful of salt, but I don't think it should be entirely dismissed out of hand either. I read this stuff like I'm piling up sheets of stained glass: I'm intrigued by the places where the colours blend and overlap, and ignore things that fall outside the prism. Anyway, let's dig in:

Okay, so what I found fascinating about 'Body Count' is that it's one of the only sources which observes Paul McCartney's mental health during the period between the India trip and when the band breakup really got rolling. I think it's overall a fairly self-absorbed text that definitely has some lies and exaggerations peppered in there to make things spicier and more dramatic, but its broad characterization - as I mentioned in my first post - isn't exactly libelous or out of left field. Some elements that make me think it's generally if not wholly authentic are: Paul's simultaneously forceful and dorky seduction style, his terrible Liverpool diet and poor housekeeping, the bouts of thrill-seeking recklessness, avoidant adventure crafting, dark moods when drinking non-socially, the occasional hot and cold bouts with the Apple Scuffs camped out at his gate, and the way in which he underplays his drug habit, which is SO "in truthfulness we spent most of the filming of Help! slightly stoned":

These details are so bizarrely specific and have significant overlap with both sympathetic and spurned personal accounts of Paul I've read in the past, so I believe Francie is just telling "Her Version Of The Truth" here rather than crafting a piece of pure fiction. The most important and revealing anecdote in the book is this one.

There's no reason not to believe this is a fairly accurate representation of something that actually happened, imo, since we know that anxious purse strings were an ongoing issue in the unusual turnover rate within the band Wings, and there are plenty of confirmed and rumoured cases alike of extended family members feeling entitled to a "piece of the pie"; this is just like, the kind of thing that happens to working class people who get catapulted into fame and fortune. And Paul in particular already had deep-seated financial anxiety for whatever reasons he'll never fully admit (as is his right, but I think his offhand claim that he "once heard some adults arguing about money and that's why" might actually be alluding to having heard some adults - y'know, like his parents - arguing over money fairly frequently). What esp interests me about the anecdote is the way Paul seems to connect the conflict b/t his dual "identities" with these financial expectations. Perhaps the CAPSLOCK emotional hysteria related in the book is puffed up for drama, but it does bring to mind one of the most revealing comments Linda ever made about their relationship, which is that Paul needed to be told he would still be loved when the cameras weren't rolling. And that's the thing: Francie caught Paul at the exact moment that the pillars of his Smile-For-The-Camera "Beatle" identity were collapsing; the dissolution of his relationships with John and Jane.

Whatever all this could possibly mean re: the breakup of the Lennon-McCartney partnership is a post for another time. What I wanna do instead is apply the level of speculation we usually reserve for that relationship to the endpoint of Paul and Jane's courtship.

So like, Paul and Jane: I know people are resistant to this specific POV, but I honestly just don't... think it was that deep? "Not deep", mind you, doesn't mean "not significant". Paul was obviously Jane's first love (u never forget), but the feeling I get from Paul's side (as a subconscious process I mean) is that Jane's importance was primarily as a lynchpin in his London Socialite persona. He loved her family, he loved the friend group, the artistic scene dating her gave him access to, as well as the leg up he got in the class system, etc. He liked to be the kind of guy who was dating Jane Asher. But I don't know that he was the guy who was dating Jane Asher, you get me? When people describe their "great love" they accidentally tell on them (Cynthia innocently describing Paul as being pleased to have her on his arm like a trophy; John: "it was an ordinary love scene"; Alistair Taylor noting that Paul was humiliated by the breakup). Paul's a serial monogamist who U-Hauls like a lesbian, of course, so he definitely took the relationship VERY seriously, but it's telling that all of his love songs to her were either about hitting a brick wall in arguments (certainly not dreamy, fond, yearning of "sunday morning fights about saturday night"; and occasionally expressing hints of class tension too), or completely non-descript Guy With A Guitar Trying To Get Laid shit. I could extrapolate a lot about Linda just from listening to McCartney I/RAM and the Wings discography, but 'And I Love Her' doesn't tell me a single thing about Jane besides that she's pretty. It could be about literally anyone the same way 'My Love' or 'Maybe I'm Amazed' could only be about his dynamic with Linda. Some of this is obviously the natural result of getting older and gaining emotional maturity; what I'm saying is that Paul's behaviour and self-expression in this relationship does not suggest to me that it was one in which his emotional maturity was able to develop or flourish.

I want to stress again that I don't think this belittles the significance of the relationship or makes it "bad" or "fake". Like, sometimes hot people just date for a while in their teens and twenties and love each other without necessarily unlocking their inner emotional cores, usually because they don't know how to. It's, like, fine. You need to experience relationships like that as stepping stones. I simply believe that this sort of front-facing social importance being prime in the romance is a major factor in why it ultimately didn't work (and probably in Linda's reported lingering jealousy of Jane, who wasn't just an ex, but also a symbol of the life Paul ditched to build a new identity w/ her, and sometimes still pined for). With Jane, Paul was dating the "right" kind of girl (didn't put out on the first date, erudite and middle class, as serious about her career as he was, a good "celebrity" match), but the relationship often wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. Francie's observation is that by 1968 it also wasn't doing what he needed it to do either. This is the overwhelming "mood" in her affair with Paul McCartney: that he needed something very badly from a romantic partner that he just was NOT getting, and Francie couldn't figure out what it was either:

(note that she means "queer" as in "mad", not "gay")

This was an EXTREMELY roundabout way of asking: well, what WAS it that Paul needed a relationship to do for him? And I think this is Francie's big, accidental insight. The most scandalous claim in 'Body Count' is that Paul told Francie that he hit Jane and it "turned her on".

I personally think this is p. absurd absent any real proof to back it up, but like, what is Francie actually saying HE'S saying here? If she's exaggerating or lying, she's trying to make it believable within the psychological parameters laid out, right? It's not an expression of some secret desire to dominate women she's accusing him of, but emotional disturbance and confusion at the idea that the woman he was with might like that sort of forceful, masculine violence more than his softer, feminine side, which he was - yeah, we all know it - deeply insecure about.

Regardless of whether specific details are true or false (and I think there's both in this story, all hyper-magnified to make it, y'know, a ~STORY~), I think what might be true is the emotional undertow of the retelling, that this all taken together is actually representative of the side of Paul McCartney she was exposed to, at a time when his public and private facades had both become unbearable to the point of cracking and the drug-fueled optimism of the Summer of Love was getting scrubbed off of everyone and everything. It's the Paul McCartney who eviscerated frogs because he was worried he was too "soft" for compulsory military service. The Paul who modelled his masculine teen behaviour off John Lennon's fake "Marlon Brando" swagger, but was actually more fond of the velvet "Oscar Wilde" interior.

What's SO FASCINATING about all this to me, is I deeply believe that one of the key factors in what makes The Beatles music so unique and compelling is that both the songwriters experienced psychological strain from the tension b/t their parochial socially-defensive "masculine" pride, and their sensitive "feminine" core, the latter of which they were able to express in the unburdened emotionality of their music. The reason I care about doing these totally unhinged psych analyses is because I do think it reveals something about the underpinnings of the music, as well as the reasons why the band was such a hysteria-inducing phenomenon (the rise of psychology, imo, is almost as important as the rise of industrialization as a defining factor of the modern and postmodern eras; mass psychology can be understood and wielded in precise ways, and The Beatles were one of the first empires built on that). The subconscious drives caused by this tension have been ENDLESSLY picked apart re: John's psyche, but Paul's "mirrored" issues are very under-discussed (mostly b/c he's still alive so people are a little more leery about putting him on the "couch" as a historical figure). 'Body Count', intentionally or not, painted a portrait to me of someone who was drowning in their own ill-fitting celebrity "suit", collapsing under the weight of "Being" "Paul McCartney". A guy who desperately needed some sort of space to be vulnerable without feeling emasculated for doing it. By 1968, there was no one in his life anymore - and maybe there hadn't been for a while, or ever - who was giving him this space.

In other words: the thing he needed to avoid going "stark raving queer and killing himself" was simply someone who would love him 'after the ball'.

EDIT: read the comments for further clarification and discussion! ;)

#/#//#///#////#/////#the beatles #mccharmley #analysis #long post #Talking About Paul The Way I Talk About John lmfao #Taking Tabloid Bullshit Seriously #(if not literally)#*gets out my fake spectacles and jumps into the psychiatry armchair*#idk if i laid out my thoughts v well here but i hope it satisfied all the people who asked #i also tried to warn what genre of post it was for those who hate this kinda thing lol #i feel like i have more to say re: how toxic 'The Beatle' facade got for all of them by this point #and paul and john's mirrored post-india breakdowns #but francie's perspective is specifically on how it felt to be the girl he used to divebomb his relationship with jane asher SO

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Delicate (Request)

Marvel Cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: fluff

Request Description: Hey I have a request. People think because I'm a small(5'3") girl I'm a "Delicate flower" and I'm really the complete opposite. So Marvel Cast x Teen!Reader. Reader was a hardcore stunt double(jumping off buildings,in simulated car accidents, fight scenes, ect.)before she got into acting,but because she's so young they try to prevent her from doing her job. (I'm evil so have her do one of the most risky stunts and nail it)

Warnings: stunt, violence (kind of), language, concerned costars :)

(A/N): hey yall im gonna update hopefully twice today or twice tomorrow? it’s because im going to BERLIN with my SCHOOL on sunday, so i dont expect to be able to write a lot. i already feel kind of guilty, since i havent even written that much this week? it can just be really exhausting you know? anyway i know none of you guys mind, its just what i keep worrying about, but anyway hope you all enjoy this :D

“Y/n, can’t you please reconsider this?”

“No, I’m doing the stunt!”

It was getting annoying at this point. You and the cast had been filming the newest Marvel movie for the past 4 months, and finally came the day, where your stunts were filmed. You only had this one scene (and one or two others with a bit of action) in the entire movie that included stunts, and you, being an experienced stunt double before turning into an actor, were excited. In fact, you were pretty sure that your experience as a stunt double, was what had gotten you the job in the first place.

You expected that your co-stars would know this, but none of them did, and you found it hard to bring it up, without feeling like you were bragging or something, so you just didn’t tell them. But that was turning out to be a bad idea, as they were getting increasingly worried.

During the first couple of months, it was mostly light chuckles and small remarks.

“That’s gonna be tough, huh?”

But as the set was built and the day came closer, the remarks turned into a worried demands.

“Y/n, that is way too dangerous! Tell the director that you want a stunt double!” Anthony had told you firmly and worryingly, as you came onto the set, wearing your costume. You furrowed your brows and tilted your head up to look at him.

“No, Anthony. I already told you,” you mumbled. Sebastian, Chris (Evans), Scarlett, and Tom (Hiddleston) looked over and a flurry of sighs came. The argument was starting again.

“Look, maybe you should just listen to us - that stuff is really dangerous, and you’re just too young,” Chris told you, giving you those worried blue eyes.

“I mean, look at you! You’re.. You know!” Sebastian knew immediately he shouldn’t have begun that sentence when he saw the narrow-eyed glare you sent his way.

“I’m what?”

“You know... Delicate..”

You rolled your eyes, intending to walk to a different part of set, where you wouldn’t be ridiculed, but Scarlett’s voice interrupted you. “Alright,” she said, “I’m gonna go ask Joe to give you a stunt double-”

Just before you could retort, because, boy, was it annoying, a set worker yelled across set, running busily across set. “Guys! You’re on now!”

You smirked cartoonishly, knowing you’d get to do the stunt, and set off to your starting position. Your coworkers watched you triumphantly getting ready, and exchanged deflated glances. They, reluctantly, got into position as well.

“Action!”

You felt a power surge as you started, almost immediately jumping into the action. You did it just as it was written in the script, ducking beneath flying fists, taking fake punches, delivering soft blows and jumping and flipping in the air like it was nothing.

As you dashed across the set, you glanced at Tom and Sebastian. They were both doing their own thing, but you found that their attention had been drifted slightly from the fight and onto you. Their mouths stood slightly agape.

You suppressed your grin, and climbed to the area of which you’d be jumping into a fairly narrow safety pad. You glance down and felt both anxiety and excitement tingling in your stomach. God, you’d really missed being a stunt double.

You saw Anthony and Scarlett frowning, and then Chris glancing at the director, probably to signal yo get you down from there, but both directors were looking solely at you.

The ground crunched beneath you, as you turned, pretending to look at approaching enemies coming up to the ledge from behind you. Then you looked down the jump and bit your lip, acting scared.

“Welp, I guess I’m doing this,” you said as scripted, and then let yourself fall. Just as your body fell between the gap, you grabbed onto a small branch, placed there very purposefully. Your body bounced violently at the motion, and your arm tugged at the weight of your own body.

You heard the actors playing the villains trample above you in confusion.

“They probably jumped over! Let’s go!” they hissed, and the ledge thundered and small stones fell, as they all left you in the gap. You looked, once more just like in the script, at the ledge, the branch, and then beneath you.

“God, bad day..” you mumbled, and comically you let yourself fall. You landed, rather gracefully in your opinion, on the pad, and fell onto safety.

The set exploded in applause. The directors, set workers, actors and actresses, everyone was seemingly impressed, and you smiled with pride.

“Woah, holy shit, holy fucking shit, Y/n! When’d you learn to do that?!” Chris asked excitedly, everyone running over as you stood up.

“I was a stunt double for years. I love this kind of stuff,” you explained and watched them roll their eyes and smile in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you say so, you dumbass?” Anthony tried to be angry, but he couldn’t hide how impressed he was. “But, for real, damn that was cool.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Anyway-”

“STOP CELEBRATING, WE’RE NOT DONE!” One of the directors had a megaphone and he made big eyes, as he fussed you all along. The cast laughed at him.

“Alright, but, uh- Next time, just tell us, Y/n. You gave me a fucking heart attack.” Scarlett cursed at you, booped your nose, and then jogged back to her place. You laughed and nodded.

“Tell me too!” Tom hissed, glancing at everyone waiting for the cast to stop fooling around, booped your nose once more (a very boopable surface, if you will), and ran to his position as well.

Everyone traveled back to their places, and then you would work the scene over and over, and at the end of the day, you all went out to celebrate because, as the cast liked to phrase it, you were ‘inexplicably cool’.

You enjoyed the food and the glory, and all was good. Looks like you weren’t so delicate after all.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906 @xiumin-girl99 @frostedgiant @tamayakii

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x teen!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x teen!reader #scarlett johansson x reader #anthony mackie x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x teen!reader #marvel cast x reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #avengers cast x reader

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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

Text

My Best Girl (Tom Holland)

a/n: this was supposed to be short and sweet yet here we are asdfghjkl i mean it’s still short but 2k isn’t necessarily a blurb ahah. this was written fairly quick but i hope you guys still enjoy it!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: slight angst & fluff summary: You hear people gossip in the bathroom about how Tom looks so good and how you basically don’t reach his level. warnings: not proofread, tom being a wholesome boyfriend, slightly steamy ending word count: 2.3k+ requested:

prompts: ~ “Talk to me.” ~ “You deserve so much better.”

masterlist in bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

Galas or fancy parties have never been your thing, especially when they're littered with too many celebrities. Some of them are nice of course, sweet and kind, but some are a bit much, stuck in their own little bubble of fame. It was just the constant thing of one upping each other, who has the most expensive dress, which island did they visit just recently, whose yacht were they invited to, and so on.

It was not your crowd, at all. Yet here you were in a floor-length, black sleeveless dress, a V-neckline to match the low back and a high slit to show off your leg and your silver heels. The fabric was hugging you in all the right places while a strong arm was wrapped around your waist, warm fingers sometimes grazing the skin on the small of your back as you smile at this well-known producer who your boyfriend just introduced you to.

Your boyfriend who happens to be world renowned actor, Tom Holland.

"I need to use the bathroom," you whispered into Tom's ear, the lad cutting his conversation off briefly to meet your gaze, a charming smile on his lips and a loving glow in his eyes.

"Okay. I'll be right here," he hummed, giving your cheek a sweet kiss and your waist a gentle squeeze before he lets you go.

After asking around the staff for a minute you've finally reached the bathroom. You pushed the door open to find it completely empty which was a relief. You just didn't want to deal with any more gossiping or encounter any more "high class" people. You went inside one of the stalls and locked the door shut. Although, you didn't get a chance to even do your business when you heard three pairs of heels click against the tiled floor. You wouldn't have entertained it until they started to exchange words about a certain man.

"Have you seen how good Tom Holland looked?" one of them said, a sense of pride coursing through you because your man does look so good tonight, that until the same girl spoke again. "Do you think I could snatch him up for tonight?"

"Well he's got his girlfriend attached to his hip so your chances are close to none," a second voice spoke.

"That was his girlfriend?" the first one gasped exaggeratedly.

"No way, I thought it was his PA," a third girl said with a laugh.

"What a shame, he deserves someone who can actually match him," the first girl sighed.

"Someone who at least could afford a proper designer dress," the third one said.

All three of them laughed at that.

"I bet I could still get his number despite the girlfriend. I could just get him alone," the first one hummed, giggling to herself as if it was the best things she's said in her life.

Finally having enough, you fixed up your dress, took a deep breath to calm yourself before opening the stall door and walking out with your chin up. All three sets of eyes followed you as they immediately quieted down. Only brave behind the back, always cowards face to face.

You shot them each a wide smile through the mirror as you turned the faucet on to wash your hands. The three of them tried to return it but their lips only twitched as they stared at you in shock.

"With all the classy make-up and elegant dresses you'd think it would at least taint your personalities no? Be ladies with a bit of class and elegance but huh," you paused, rinsing off the soap and then turning the water off before grabbing some paper towels to dry of your hands. "What a shame," you tutted with a shake of your head, shooting them a sympathetic smile through the mirror. None of them spoke a single word as you threw away the paper towel and started towards the door with your head held high.

Before you grabbed the door handle, you turned back to them with a tight lip smile. "Oh, and this dress is worth more than all of you combined with how cheap your personalities are." You pulled the door open, though stopped midway through the doorway to look at them over your shoulder. "Words of advice, try and go for the single men, ladies, and maybe you'll get lucky. Although not guaranteed if you're a bit...desperate. Have a great night. I know I will, especially later with my man," you said with a smirk, throwing them a wink at the end of your sentence to properly get the point across.

But the moment you stepped out of the bathroom you felt your knees weaken, breathing turning heavy, tears burning in your orbs as you tried your best to keep them at bay until you were out from prying eyes. The words they've said have always been sitting in the back of your head, how Tom could leave you so quickly for someone who was up to his level. Someone more gorgeous, someone with a high status, someone who could actually match him in terms of looks and just overall fame. And hearing those words be said out loud, to hear them from actual strangers, it only makes them more real, the insecurities that's always been nagging in your brain. It only makes them more painful.

You rushed back out into the ballroom, holding your composure as best as you could. Tom was still in his place as promised, talking to the same person he did just minutes ago before you went and excused yourself.

"Tom," you croaked out when you got to him, not meaning your voice to sound weak the way it did. But it was already too late for you to try again when your boyfriend's eyes immediately snapped to look at you. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, one change in the tone of your voice and he immediately will notice that something was up.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked as he turned to face you fully, his hand coming up to cup your cheek so you had no choice but to look at him in the eyes. Tom's worry only grew some more when he saw your orbs glossed up with tears, features coated by nothing but utter panic.

"I'm going to go ahead and get back to the hotel room," you whispered. "You can stay—"

"No, if you want to go, then we're going now," he said firmly.

"But—"

Tom didn't give you any time to finish your sentence when he turned back to the producer he was talking to. "I'm so sorry but we need to get going. It was nice meeting you sir. I'll have my agent send you the details. Thank you so much," Tom said, offering his hand out to which the man shook with a smile, not at all minding that their conversation got cut short.

And with that, Tom took your hand in his and swiftly but gently guided you out of the ballroom.

"You didn't have to leave with me," you muttered as you both made your way back to the elevators, thankful that your hotel room was in the same building.

"No, but I wanted to. The night was getting long anyway," Tom reassured with a squeeze of your hand.

You stayed silent on the way up and even after you're inside the room. Tom's frown could only deepen when you sat at the edge of the bed with a shaky breath.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" he asked as he locked the door. You ignored him completely, hands gripping tightly at the fabric of your dress, keeping your head down as you tried to keep your breathing steady and your raging thoughts at bay, but much to no use.

"Talk to me," Tom said softly, frown deep on his lips as he slowly moved over to your shaking form. He crouched down in front of you, hands landing on your knees as he searched for your eyes but all you did was hide your face behind your palms. "Darling," he tried again, but still, you didn't even bother looking up.

Tom took it upon himself to pry your hands gently away from your face and letting his fingers intertwine with yours. His heart broke when you looked at him with nothing but utmost sadness and hurt, tears running freely down your cheeks as you whispered,

"You deserve so much better."

"Okay, who the fuck told you that," Tom growled, but you only frowned deeply at his reaction because you knew, with one look in his eyes that his anger wasn't directed at you. It was at whoever planted that thought inside your head.

"No one—"

"Y/N," Tom warned.

"Nobody told me it directly. I just heard some girls in the bathroom saying how much you're way out of my league and how I looked like some assistant when I'm beside you and they are right Tom. I can't wear any designer clothes or any expensive dresses to look at least presentable when I'm with you. I can't match how handsome you are because I look nothing like those models or those actresses—"

"Darling, have you even seen yourself tonight?" Tom cut you off, shaking his head in disbelief as he furrowed his brows. "Have you seen how many guys I've been trying to wave off of you? Have you ever wondered why I've never let you go even in the slightest? Why I kept an arm around you or a hand on your back at all times?"

You shook your head no with a frown, not really getting where he was going with this.

"Babe, you stole the whole room! They were so drawn to you all the damn time like fucking moths to a flame and I was getting so fucking annoyed at them for always staring at you like that," Tom said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself before his gaze landed back on you. He flashed you a bright, genuine smile as he gave your hand a squeeze. "But I also felt so proud because fuck yeah, look at how fucking gorgeous my girlfriend is. Look at how lucky I am to have her with me and guess what? Get wrecked 'cause all you lot can do is stare at her while I get to hold her in my arms and call her mine."

You didn't have a chance to response when Tom suddenly stood up to his full height, pulling you with him and away from the bed as he walked backwards. You followed him with brows furrowed in confusion, but he only flashed you a charming grin.

"To be honest you're the one who's way out of my league, I mean look at you," Tom paused just as he stopped moving, stepping to the side until you were face to face with yourself in the floor length mirror. "Look how fucking beautiful you are! Those girls are just jealous because my god love, you make my fucking heart explode!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards your reflection in the mirror. You tilted your head at him with a pout, fresh sets of tears coating your eyes but for a different reason this time. Tom sighed as he moved back to stand in front of you, one hand landing on your hips as the other went on your cheek.

"I don't deserve someone better you know why?" he hummed, brown eyes boring into your own. "Because you are already the best girl I could ever have in my life." Tom pressed his forehead against yours, giving your hip a loving squeeze before he lifted his hand up so he could cup your face lovingly with both hands. "You are my best, most gorgeous and amazing girl with a heart of gold to match. I couldn't possibly find someone better than you my love and fuck whoever thinks otherwise," he finished, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice and swimming in his eyes, words doing nothing but make you heart grow ten times its size.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him all teary eyed, leaning even closer until you were able to capture his lips in yours, to let him feel through the kiss just how grateful you are of him. Tom hummed at the feeling, his hands sliding down your bare arms until he rested them on the small of your back, welcoming your kisses as he pulled you even closer to him.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips, fingers getting lost in his styled hair, tugging at them playfully making him let out a soft groan.

"And I love you so much, darling," he muttered, giving your bottom lip a soft nibble before he suddenly pulled away. One you met his eyes again, that's when you saw how they were already a shade darker than before.

Tom shot you a wide smirk before he pulled away completely, walking around you until he stood right behind, one hand taking home on your waist as the other went to hold your chin gently, turning your head to look back in front so you were once again face to face with yourself, right in the mirror.

He met your eyes through the floor-length mirror, his grin wide and mischievous as he ran his fingers down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. You suck in a breath as he took hold of the zip on your dress right as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck he's already memorized. He pulled the zip down gently, the fabric going lose around your body as you kept eye contact with him through the mirror. Tom hooked his fingers on the straps of your dress, slowly pulling them off your shoulders and down your arms until it pooled at your feet, exposing you to the cold air of the room. With his voice deep and husky, Tom growled lowly against your ear,

"Now, enough talk and let me show you just how beautiful you are."

~~~

>> come say hi and send some in!

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

whip appeal | lucas (m)

title: whip appeal pairing: lucas x black!reader genre: smut request: “In honor of Lucas' bday, can we get a fic in which Lucas and his Black gf go out to celebrate his bday with friends? They can't keep their hands off each other the whole dinner and things end up getting super spicy 🤭 once they get back home. They both liked to be praised? 🧐” and “Can I request a Lucas and black gf riding please? I know we talked about this before so here it is glasses😎! Thank you!” word count: 4.1k warnings: riding, unprotected sex, creampie, face fucking, face riding, oral (female and male receiving), praise kink, a little exhibitionism, dirty talk, maybe sub!lucas?, overstimulation a/n: this is pure filth, heaven help me. 💀 decided to combine two requests for this one. i was never really a big fan of the “getting down at the dinner table” smut trope, but well…it seemed fitting here lol

In celebration of Lucas’s birthday, you and him had decided to go out to dinner with the WayV members and some of your own friends. You’d even made sure everyone’s schedules would be clear for it, which mostly meant nicely asking (or maybe jokingly threatening) your friends to shuffle some of their plans around so they could attend.

As soon as you all sit down in the restaurant, the WayV members sing Lucas a birthday song embarrassingly loud, which makes him blush a little but he’s also pretty pleased by it.

And if there’s anything else he’s pleased by, it’s your outfit choice for the night.

You have decided to wear one of Lucas’s favorite dresses on you, one he got you a year ago for your first anniversary. It’s a form-fitting black dress with a slit on the side—a fairly high one, which you were a little bashful about at first. You quickly ended up loving the dress, though, due to Lucas’s enthusiastic reaction to you in it.

Yes, it’s definitely hard to forget how he’d peeled your panties off and bent you over the couch with the dress still on, bunching the fabric up in his hands so he could tug you back onto his—

Anyway, it’s a great dress.

That still holds true now, of course. He’s barely left you alone since you got in the car with him, though you could also say the same for yourself; he manages to look even finer than usual in his leather jacket and all-black fit, which is quite a feat. You had half a mind to persuade him into a quickie before you left, but that would only make you late; it’s always hard to stop once you both start.

You’d both agreed you’d make it through the dinner without incident, though now that you’re sitting in the restaurant, you’re not entirely sure if either of you can keep to that.

It’s hard to pay attention to what anyone else is saying with Lucas sitting so close to you, his arm and his thigh brushing yours every so often, sending his cologne wafting past your nose—more often than it probably should, and you know he’s doing it on purpose. He’d even placed your napkin on your lap at the beginning of the meal, his hands lingering on either side of your thighs for a little longer than they should have, and you gave him a cautious look in return.

As you all wait for the entrees to get to your table, Lucas’s hand goes to your thigh under the table, his fingers pressing heatedly into your skin. You give him a sideways glance as his fingers linger where the slit in your dress is, as if they’re about to go up under the fabric and head where they’re not supposed to.

“Yukhei. Keep it low,” you whisper to him, and place your own hand on his thigh higher than it probably should be in public. It was initially meant as a warning gesture, but your intentions change as soon as you feel the hard muscle of his leg under your palm. Because you just can’t resist now that he’s opened the door.

“I am, you just have to not make it obvious.” He grins, brushing his fingers along your exposed skin. This makes a shiver go up your spine, and you shift in your seat a little abruptly, your own fingers edging ever closer to his groin. Your sudden movement catches Kun’s eye and he gives you both a look that’s a little more on the suspicious side than neutral. You try to give him your best innocent smile, and he nods in reply, though the slight wariness doesn’t totally leave his gaze.

Lucas’s hand refuses to move from your leg. Instead he brushes his thumb repeatedly over the sliver of your thigh revealed by the dress, knowing how distracting it’ll be for you. Whenever you or he isn’t talking to one of the others at the table, he takes those short moments to lean over slightly and whisper obscenities in your ear as if he’s just casually talking, well aware of how it’ll affect you.

“If you can be a good girl and keep our little game secret, I’ll give you a reward when we get home.” This makes you sit up straighter in the chair, fully alert as if you weren’t intrigued already.

“A reward? It’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be giving you one?” you whisper back, still trying to keep your eyes forward like everything’s normal.

Lucas chuckles, and his warm breath hitting your ear and the side of your neck makes your heart beat a little faster. “The only reward I need is your p—”

“Oh, here comes the food!” one of your friends exclaims. Her voice makes you jump, mostly because you almost felt like you were about to be found out. You look up, and just as she says, the waiter has come back with the first round of plates.

You sigh a little in relief when Lucas’s hand finally departs from your leg, and then you’re slightly embarrassed that you were already this wound up just from a few touches. You bring your own hand back to your lap and mess with the napkin, trying to calm yourself down.

You do such a good job of it that you almost forget about your game with Lucas as you all start eating and talking more enthusiastically. You and your friends enjoy listening to the men’s banter and silly jokes, even if their wordplay is a little lost on you at times.

However, your mind is brought right back to the matter at hand after the entrees are taken away and it’s time for dessert.

Lucas leans over to you as you take a drink from your water and mumbles, just low enough for only you to hear, “You’re not wearing any underwear, are you?”

You snort and almost cough but manage to catch yourself before you draw everyone’s attention. “Hmm...you’re just now noticing?”

Lucas sucks his teeth and shakes his head as if he’s about to reprimand you, but he only grins slyly. Like clockwork, his hand slides back underneath the table, only this time he takes the initiative to push his hand through the slit in your dress and grip your inner thigh.

His fingertips are dangerously close to your heat. You stiffen up instead of trying to deter him, because if you were to grab his hand now, there’s a major chance you might just push it further where you want it to be instead of pulling it away.

Hendery says something that makes everyone else laugh, and Lucas takes this moment of distraction to shove his fingers between your legs, the pads of them sliding over your clit. You can’t control your response as well this time, and you make a little yelp, kicking your leg up and hitting your knee against the underside of the table. Lucas withdraws his hand from you as soon as it happens, though he can’t stop the laugh that comes bellowing out.

Everyone’s heads whip towards the two of you at the sudden disturbance, varying expressions of confusion and suspicion on their faces.

“Are we disturbing you? Should we all leave so you two can have a moment?” Ten suggests, a knowing expression written all over his face. He even seems a bit bored, as if he’s already used to walking in on you two in compromising positions at the dorm—which he is.

“No, that’s not necessary.” Lucas is still laughing, which makes you want to roll your eyes because he’s making it even more obvious although he was the one who wanted to be discreet about it in the first place. “We’re fine, it’s nothing.”

“Damn, Y/N, y’all couldn’t wait until the last course?” Another one of your friends giggles behind her napkin like she’s utterly scandalized, and you sigh.

“Don’t worry about me! Like you haven’t been flirting with Yangyang all night.”

Yangyang lets out a nervous chuckle, and your friend gives you a look that says we will talk about this later.

You try to focus on your dessert when it comes, plus the conversations the others are having, but Lucas’s touch has gotten you all riled up and your mind keeps drifting. You’re beyond the point of pretending like you can handle this anymore. By the time dinner is over, you’re clinging to Lucas’s arm as you all leave the restaurant, and you barely want to let him go so he can say goodbye to the WayV members—which they find lowkey hilarious.

One of your friends joins you as you wait for Lucas to finish his conversation with the others, and she rests her arm on your shoulder, shaking her head.

“Okay, not to sound totally greedy, but that dessert wasn’t enough for me…” she comments. “I know it’s one of those fancy-pants restaurants and all, but they don’t gotta downsize everything. What about you and your man? What’d you think of it?

“Well, I got Lucas a birthday cake at home, so I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Is that right? I wonder what kind of cake it is,” your friend says this innocently, but the look on her face tells you she means something else entirely. “What flavor? Vanilla? Strawberry? Chocolate?”

“Oh, girl...look at the time. Time for you to go home!” You laugh with your friends for a few moments more before you and Lucas finally depart from the rest of the group and head back to your place.

The atmosphere is tense once you and Lucas get in the car, though not in a bad way—quite the opposite. “You’ve been messing with me all night. You should be more than ready for what’s going to happen once we get home,” you tell him.

“Is that a threat? You already know I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“Take, you will,” you say with a scheming smile on your face, and you slide lower in your seat to get comfortable as you run your hands up your legs, tugging your dress a bit higher as you do. Lucas’s eyes dart to your hands and exposed skin, and his own palms tighten around the steering wheel.

You laugh at his reaction and return your hands to your sides just as quick as you placed them in your lap. “Now, keep your eyes on the road so we can get home in one piece.”

Lucas is already tugging you into the side of his body as he unlocks the front door to your place, and his lips are against yours only seconds after the door closes. His body is hot and firm against your own, and he still tastes like the dessert he ate back at the restaurant. It makes you want to push your tongue into his mouth—which you do.

“You know,” you murmur when you both separate for a moment, “I don’t think either of us won that reward, since we got caught.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still my good girl.” As if emphasizing his point, Lucas tilts your chin up and kisses you again.

Eventually—maybe a few years later, with how long it feels like you’ve been making out against the wall—you both make it to your bedroom, Lucas’s leather jacket stripped off somewhere along the way. You push him to sit on your bed, though you still keep your hands on him as you unbutton his shirt, exposing his tan skin to you.

His pants are next as you bring your hands to his lap so you can unzip them, already feeling a bulge underneath your palm. You rub your hand over it, finding the tip of his cock through the material and circling your thumb across it. Lucas drops his head back as a deep sigh comes from his chest, and he lifts his hips slightly to meet your hand.

When you have his pants fully undone, you kick your shoes off and drop to the soft carpeted floor in front of him, pulling his pants and underwear down enough so you can pull his dick out. It’s long and hard and leaking precum as you wrap your hand around it, and it twitches at your tight grasp.

You’ve barely done anything yet, but Lucas says under his breath, “Fuck, I love it when you suck my dick, baby…so pretty for me.”

You smirk as you stroke your hand along his length, feeling the precum sticking to your palm. You press forward to place your lips on his shaft, sliding your tongue out of your mouth to drag up the length of his member. When you get to the tip, you carefully take it into your mouth and suck it firmly. A noise between a groan and a growl rises from Lucas’s chest, which hits you straight between your legs.

Lucas breathes heavily as he sits up on his elbows and watches you suck him into your mouth, your lips and hand fitting around his member like you were perfectly made for each other. He’s bigger than you were used to in previous relationships, but that doesn’t mean you don’t make it work every single time.

“Y/N...Y/N. God. You feel so good.” He especially likes when you take his balls into your mouth, which you do now, and he has to give a concentrated effort not to move his hips further up.

“You can feel even better if you fuck my face.”

“Really?” You don’t do this very often, but you figure it’s a special occasion, so why not. Lucas’s stomach tenses, as if he’s about to explode at the very mention of it. “Want my cock in your throat?”

“Do it, Yukhei.” And then you open your mouth and slide his shaft against your tongue, pushing him inside, inviting him to do just as you’ve offered. He lays a hand on the back of your head and pushes his cock further into your mouth, experimentally at first, to prepare you for it.

Soon, he lets a little of his control slip and thrusts more fully into the back of your throat, his fingers digging a little firmer into your hair. The sounds of it are so filthy, but he loves it and it makes his stomach flood with desire—makes his dick throb in your mouth. It creates an inevitable mess, with your spit dripping down his length and his balls, but the uninhibited nature of it makes you even wetter.

Lucas finds himself dangerously close to the edge quicker than he expected, and he pulls himself from your mouth with a lewd, wet noise.

“I don’t wanna come just yet,” he groans, and before you know it he’s pulling you up onto the bed with him, guiding you to kneel over his face. You don’t question the sudden switch-up or complain; you just hike your dress up higher so you can watch his face as you lower your hips down, rubbing your pussy over his waiting tongue. He moans when you make contact, like he’s been wanting to do this all night, and he wastes no time with bringing his hands to your hips and rocking you against his mouth.

“Yukhei, please,” you moan. It feels like every neuron in your body wants to fire all at once with how his tongue works over your clit and his plush lips wrap around it and suck hard. He can’t say anything in this position, but he answers you with a deep moan that makes your nerve endings vibrate and your walls clench around nothing.

You want him in you, want him to stuff you full with his dick and bust inside of you, but you’re not done riding his face just yet. His chin and lips are all wet from it. He wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you tight against his mouth as you thrust down onto him, and you have to place your hands on the mattress above his head to maintain your stability as he forces an intense orgasm out of you.

Lucas continues lapping into you as you drip onto his mouth and chin. He’s almost embarrassingly loud with how hard he’s sucking your pussy, like drawing all the juice out of a piece of fruit, and you double over and howl as he works you over. Your neighbors have probably had it with you by now, but you can’t think about that as you cum fast and hard again, your clit throbbing as he swirls his tongue around it repeatedly.

“God, I can’t take anymore, your mouth—oh fuck—” He still hasn’t let up yet, and you bang your fist against the bed, your agreed-upon sign to stop for whenever it gets to be too much. At that, Lucas finally releases your thighs from his iron hold and backs off of you.

You feel like you could probably sleep for a day straight from the head alone, but Lucas is still hard and leaking precum and there’s no way you’re letting that go unanswered for. You shimmy down his body so you’re sitting in his lap now, and you shiver when his shaft slides against your still-sensitive clit.

Lucas watches intently as you grasp his length and bring your hips up so you can push it into you, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. A groan rumbles in his chest as your pussy squeezes around him. “Are you real? You look like a fucking angel on my dick, baby.”

You giggle, an almost drunken sound—even though you are quite sober at the moment—as you seat yourself fully on his dick and begin rolling your hips. You grasp his shirt where it still hangs off his body, bringing him up so he’s sitting straight with you in his lap. You catch his lips and taste yourself on his mouth.

You both continue kissing as your bodies fall into a natural rhythm, one of Lucas’s arms going around your waist to gain a better grip so he can thrust up into you a little harder. He angles himself so he can hit your g-spot with every motion, and you scratch at his neck and his back when he does.

“I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” Lucas admits, though his hips never stop moving against yours. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, a line of exertion creasing between his brows. A trail of sweat drips from his neck to his jawline, and you follow it with your tongue.

“I don’t care, just come. Give it to me, Yukhei.” Your hand tangles in his hair and you bring his head closer, tucking your face into the side of his and taking his earlobe between your teeth.

“Goddamn, Y/N…” Lucas can’t do much more but moan and gasp as you push your hips into his more forcefully, pulling him ever closer to his climax, and whatever else he’d planned to say comes out choked as his balls draw up and a vein pops out against the skin of his neck.

Lucas slumps back to his elbows as if the strength has been sapped from his body as he lets you ride him as if you’ll never get to do it again, throwing him headfirst into an explosive orgasm as sticky cum bursts inside you. A string of nonsense leaves his mouth, mostly curses and groans and some syllables that sound like your name.

“Y-Yukhei…” You can barely gasp his name as your own climax crashes into you, making you clench almost painfully around him as you come. You have to pause for a moment to simply ride through the sensation, too encompassed with the feeling to be able to do anything but cry out and let your body slump against his.

You both lie like that for some long moments, breathing hard against each other and trickling with sweat. When you feel steady enough to sit up again, you do so.

Even as the tension in Lucas’s body unravels itself, you move your hips again, a dizzying winding motion. Your pace is a little slower after you’ve come, but you don’t stop rocking your body on his. You feel Lucas’s cum shifting in you and leaking back out, but that doesn’t bother you. He’s still rock hard inside you, and you are going to milk this for all it’s worth.

Lucas’s eyes pop open, and he looks at you with an expression of surprise. There's something else in his gaze that’s a little new to you—something like submission. “Y/N…”

“Can you take another, Yukhei?” You reach behind yourself to find his balls and fondle them momentarily, and he twitches inside you. His thighs flex underneath you, and you sigh and marvel at the beauty of his perfectly formed body in action.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he moans, but he lies flat on his back again to offer himself up to you, letting you fuck yourself on his oversensitive member. The sounds of your lovemaking are wetter and nastier because of his cum dripping from you, and it makes lust swirl in your stomach.

Groans and grunts spill from Lucas continuously now as you increase the pace again and push your knees into bed to ride him more feverishly. One of his hands comes to fist in the fabric of your dress like he wants to rip it clean off—or maybe bring you down harder on his cock—and his face colors red from the pleasure racking his body.

Though you never stop in your motions, you lower yourself so you can bring your mouth to his neck and kiss the heated skin of it. You swear you can almost feel the blood rushing in his veins. Lucas gives you a few hard thrusts from beneath, though his hips stutter and he ends up letting you do most of the work again.

There’s little warning when he comes this time. He shouts, a cut-off sound like he’s been silenced before he could fully vocalize it, and shoots more hot ropes of cum into you. He seems to release even more of his seed than before as his cock pulses repeatedly inside of you, and you wonder how much you could coax out of him if you went at it like this all night.

“Yes baby, fill me up...so good for me, so sexy…” You mumble this against his neck as you grind on his abdomen, needing that extra stimulation to your clit to meet your own end. He’s trembling now from the aftershocks of his climax, and in a few more moments, the overstimulation might really overload him.

“Fuck Y/N, come on—” He shoves his hand between your bodies, and although the angle is a bit awkward, he rubs his fingers against your clit in a way that finally pushes you into your final orgasm. You writhe against him and clutch onto his shoulders for support as you lose yourself again in that burning thrill racing through your body.

You’re both a sticky and tired mess by the end of it all, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to stand up to get in the damn shower. Still, you are more than satisfied. Lucas himself must be on cloud 9, judging by the blissed-out expression on his face, his hair a complete mess from how it was originally styled earlier in the night.

Grinning, you cup his cheek and kiss his lips again. “Happy birthday, Yukhei.”

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mellow-em · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 1

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The murky layers of clouds that filled the grey afternoon sky, mutated into the clear blend of colors of the evening sunset.

I rolled the windows down over an hour ago, to let in the crisp breeze of the night to keep myself awake. It really was the longest drive of my entire life. Though, even if it had been drawn out to extremes thanks to the traffic on the highways, it was relaxing nonetheless.

I spin the steering wheel slightly, finally turning into my neighborhood. I let out an exasperated yawn, feeling my whole body yearning to be in my comfy bed again. I was tremendously exhausted.

I looked around at the strips of houses lining both sides of the road; because it had been around 7pm, lights remained visible within the windows, and families were most likely eating dinner.

Our neighborhood was known for being tranquill, that is, when you first enter anyway. The farther down you drive, the more lively it gets. My parents and I happened to live right towards the end of the street, where everybody knew everyone.

From when I was little all the way into highschool, we’d have block parties, barbecues, and random get togethers every chance we could get. Those would last for hours, leading into the am sometimes. It was chaotic most of the time, but I enjoyed it.

Not even a moment later I find myself in front of my house, pulling into the driveway with one swift turn in. I couldn’t even put the car in park before I heard an uproar by the front door, causing me to stifle a laugh and shake my head.

It’s definitely gonna be a long night.

I roll all of the windows up before shutting the car off, stashing my keys away into the side pocket of my shorts. While pushing the door open with my feet, I look up to see both of my parents awaiting to engulf me into a hug.

A warm smile rises on my face as I hug them back.

“We’ve missed you honey,” my mom softly said in my ear, smoothing my hair down before kissing the top of my head.

The hug had met its demise, and I turned around to look at the mountains of boxes overflowing within the backseat and the trunk of my car.

I inaudibly sigh in my head, knowing how time consuming this is going to be. Luckily mother could probably sense my vexation.

“Your father and I were gonna help you whether you liked it or not, so come on.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry that drive just killed me.”

She looked at me with a knowing expression on her facial features, “This is why I told you we should’ve helped you with heading home.”

I rolled my eyes, “And I insisted that I could take care of it myself,” I walked around to the other side as each of us opened the other doors to the car to start unloading my stuff.

She chuckled, dismissing me with a shake of her head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let's start getting this done so you can go to sleep,” she paused behind me with a box wedged in her hands, “ cause your walkin’ around looking like a damn zombie.”

I scoffed jokingly, “ Ha ha ha, very funny.”

“Get to it y/n!” she called out from inside of the house.

I rolled my eyes yet again while lifting a fairly large pack that held my toiletries, and released a frustrated huff.

The thoughts of the future began to boil in my brain again, creating that oh so familiar, awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I knew for a fact that I couldn’t stay at my parents house for longer than a year, meaning I was going to have to figure all of my shit out within that time frame. Although it may seem like a lifetime away, the rest of my life was really on the line here.

And I couldn’t begin to admit how scared I really was.

Damn I feel like I’m being so unbelievably dramatic.

“Y/n, are you still alive over there?” The distant muffles I barely heard over me mentally walking down memory lane, became crystal clear.

My head jerked up abruptly, as I let out a small yelp, “What?”

I notice my dad in front of me, with two containers filled with my clothes, and a small bag stacked on top of one another in his hands.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, kiddo.”

“It's fine, I- what were you saying?”

We started to travel slowly towards the steps to the front porch, as he spoke, “I was sayin’ that we're gonna be having a small get together to celebrate you being back home tomorrow night.”

“Your small get-togethers are never just small dad, do you remember your 40th birthday? You had almost the same amount of people over as the block parties.”

He snickered, “Hey, what can I say, I’m just a popular guy,” the both of us enter the house as he turns to me again, “But I will say, it will more than likely be small. You’re just gonna see a few new faces in the mix.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, “Wait what? Do we have new neighbors or something?”

The both of us walk up the stairs to my room, and place the boxes alongside the wall opposite of my bed.

“Something like that,” he pats my shoulder and hurries out the door to the hallway, leaving me even more confused, “Why do you insist on being so cryptic all the time?”

“I’m gonna get the rest of your stuff!”

I groaned, crashing into the plush comforter that was laying neatly on the bed beneath me. With no delay, my eyelids leisurely closed, and I eventually doze off.

______________________

Heat radiated from my body as I woke from a peaceful sleep. I shifted uncomfortably a few times, feeling the sweat sticking to my body.

No matter how hard I try, sleeping in the heat of this room is going to be like trying to sleep in a damn sauna. Useless.

I rolled over, with the pitch black atmosphere through the windows, and around me, taking up most of my vision.

It’s probably in the middle of the damn night.

I lifted my arm slightly to let my hand feel around the bed, in search of my phone to check the time.

Just my luck, my fucking phone is missing.

I look over to the other side of the room, where the unpacked boxes and containers remained stacked by the wall. The slight glare of the moon's reflection was hitting something on top of the windowsill.

“There you are,” the words fumbled out of my mouth sleepily, while I slowly rose from what felt like my puddles of sweat on the sheets. Stumbling in the process, I made my way over to what was thankfully my phone laying down in the moonlight.

The illumination of the screen screamed at my eyes, causing me to look away for a second, “shit that was bright.”

I adjust my eyes to the light to see the clock on the top of the screen:

3:28am

“Great. Well at least I got some sleep.” I toss my phone across the room, hearing it thump onto the side of my bed.

A wave of heat ran across my arms and legs, reminding me of why I woke up in the first place, “I’m not gonna take the chance of melting any more tonight.”

I reach over to unhinge the latch on top of the window next to me, and open it halfway. A gust of polar air simmered around me almost immediately, swiftly cooling me off to satisfaction.

I close my eyes, letting the nightly winds blow over me, with a relaxed smile forming on my face.

My small moment of tranquility was rudely interrupted by a splash from outside.

My eyes jolted open, and I instantly lurch my head up to look in that direction. To my surprise, the lights were on over Nate and Elena’s; the pool lights.

“Why would-?”

I knew for a fact that it wasn’t Nathan or Elena, knowing that they have a child on the way. Both of them were guaranteed to be asleep.

So who the hell is using their pool at 3 in the damn morning? That question replayed in my head as I stared out towards the pool, waiting to see the whoever it could possibly be.

As if on cue, I watched as the figure emerged from the pool, and a man slowly stepped out while using the ladder at the edge.

Just like that, it felt that I didn't have control anymore. My curious eyes wandered; lingering all over him.

He wore black swim trunks that were snug on his thighs in all the right places. They sunk down to the lower half of his hips, exposing his very visible trail of hair on the lower half of his abdomen.

The more I drank of him, the more it affected me.

His chest hair glistened from the pool water that began streaming down his abs. My eyes found themselves trickling over his toned biceps, and his scattered variety of tattoos that took up only a few spots on his body.

I knew I had to look away, but I couldn’t.

I finally looked up at his face.

Holy fuck.

The lower half of his face was lined perfectly with stubble, with his seemingly soft lips as the centerpiece. I traveled up his face, noticing the wrinkles that were sketched sparingly across his features.

He ran his hand through his soaked locks of hair that partially hung in front of his face, with his muscles flexed to an extreme. He wandered over to the table and chairs that were by the edge of the pool area; that was much closer to my window.

After reaching for the towel, he rubbed it through his hair, and started drying the rest of his body with it. Him doing so caused me to look him up and down once again. I looked down to his feet, and up to his head.

Only this time around, I was met with his eyes.

I felt an overwhelming surge of panic, but I was stuck in place. I felt trapped, with no escape from this whatsoever.

I’m such an idiot. I mentally scolded myself for letting my lustful curiosity get the best of me.

The reprimands within my mind were sliced in half, as a sly smirk traced over his lips, creating a few more layers of wrinkles upon his cheeks.

This could be chalked up to be the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever experienced.

I couldn’t decide on whether to focus on his lips or his eyes; it was becoming way too much to handle. I did a frantic dance between the two.

Coincidentally, as soon as our eyes met a final time, one of his eyelids opened and closed in one smooth motion, all while his stare remained fixated on me.

Did he really just do that? Did he just fucking wink at me?

I finally got the stamina to duck away from the window and onto the floor, with my back pressed against my former dorm room cases, and my breathing becoming more irregular by the second

What the fuck just happened?

#sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #Uncharted 4 #uncharted fanfiction

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Merlin has been gone for two years, Arthur has a meeting with the Lord Emrys to help with the changing laws:

And he has never bitterly regretted sending Merlin away more

Part 2(final part)

Angst,

I'm gonna say... about 6 months before Uther dies, Merlin's magic is revealed to Arthur.

He really does NOT react well.

Arthur doesn't let Merlin get a word of explanation in, before he hits him on the head so hard he's unconscious before he even hits the floor.

When Merlin wakes up, what he can only assume is MUCH later, he's wearing cold iron shackles, he's been blindfolded, and gagged.

He just listens at first, still dazed and certainly concussed.

After about twenty minutes he's more aware, and realises... he's outside, in a forest, and he's on his own.

It’s been two years since Arthur abandoned Merlin in the woods beyond Camelot’s border.

He’s been King now for about a year and a half.

He went back three days later and tracked Merlin for a few hours, before coming to the conclusion that he'd gotten away safely, and heading back to Camelot.

He always tried to justify it to himself as protecting Merlin from Uther, ignoring the fact that Merlin had managed just fine on his own for years.

But really that was just an excuse. All he saw in the moment was a liar and a traitor. Really he should've had Merlin executed so... he's still a good person. He did the right thing.

He hadn't told anyone else the truth (perhaps because he knows they would hate him for it). Instead he told them that he and Merlin had argued, and before Arthur could get to the bottom of why his manservant was so irate, he stormed off in the middle of the night, and told him he wasn't coming back.

He stuck to that story the whole two years, though he's fairly certain they at least suspect he's lying. Gaius definitely does.

I imagine Gaius, only a few days after Merlin's disappearance, taking Arthur aside one night, and demanding to know if Merlin was dead. If Arthur had killed him:

"No! No of course not. He... we had a fight. It's like I said. He left in the night and told me not to follow him, that he wasn't coming back. I plan to respect his wishes."

Gaius releases the bruising grip he'd had on Arthur’s arm and takes a step back, his expression unreadable as he stares at the Prince.

"I...why would think I killed him?"

"Despite the fact that he most certainly could've defended himself against you, I always found it troubling how willing he was to let you execute him, should that be what you wanted."

Arthur has no reply to that, what would he even say? Would Merlin really have willingly walked to a pyre? If Arthur had only asked?

Gaius goes to walk away at that, but just before he shuts the door behind him, he pauses, and without looking back, says:

"If I find out you have killed my son, Sire, for who he is, there will... there is a large group of people who would see that justice is served. Myself included."

Everyone notices the change in the relationship between Gaius and Arthur since Merlin had left.

Arthur, with the knowledge that Gaius knows. Knows the truth and had guessed what he'd done. He couldn't face that.

They barely spoke to each other, Arthur avoided the physician wherever possible and words of encouragement and kindness were no longer aimed his way from the gentle old man.

His relationships with the others deteriorated as well.

They either thought he was telling the truth, and resented him for both being cruel to Merlin, and letting him go so easily.

(After years of Arthur treating Merlin terribly, no one is really surprised that Merlin had decided he'd had enough and left.)

OR they thought he was lying, hiding something, and resented him for not telling them the truth, and potentially doing something unforgivable to Merlin.

All but Gwaine are still polite to him, showing him the due respect of a Prince, and then a King, but not of a friend.

After a series of hijinks, Arthur comes to the terrifying realisation that magic isn't all bad.

Really I think, he's known all along. But admitting that magic wasn't pure evil made what he did to Merlin even more unforgivable.

He begins making moves to legalise it. It's slow and difficult, and he meets resistance at every turn.

BUT he also has the surprising support of Gaius, and his knights, and Gwen, and Morgana.

Still, none of them treat him like a friend, not the way they used to, but they're helping him along the way. He hadn't realised how many people close to him opposed the ban, until he started dismantling it.

Hope rises in him, over the months, as he realises that once he's legalised magic, he can find Merlin, and bring him back. The first place he'll check is Ealdor.

He's... scared of that. Scared that he won't be able to find him, but more scared that he will. That Merlin will hate him. That Merlin won't care that he's repealing the ban and won't want to come back.

Arthur doesn't think he could bare that.

Mostly because he knows that it would be entirely his own fault.

After the ban is finally lifted, there are huge celebrations. If the King is seen to be searching the crowds, as if for a familiar face, no one mentions it.

A few days later, a group of Druids come for an audience with the King, and are met by Arthur in the courtyard.

After quick introductions, and pleasantries, the leader begins to speak:

"Once and Future King, I first want to extend my gratitude for this warm welcome, and promise that you have the Druid's full support in lifting the ban. We hope for a peaceful future, full of cooperation and compassion."

Arthur nods and smiles slightly at that, but before he can reply in anyway, the Druid speaks again:

"Our leader, the leader of all Druids and all magic of the world, would like to convene with you, and discuss the specifics of any future agreements between our two worlds."

Arthur is surprised at that, but hides it well. Leader of... all magic? Sounds... powerful:

"Of course, I readily accept. They may bring themselves forth, I will make time for a meeting whenever they so choose."

"Your majesty, My Lord Emrys already awaits you in the throne room-"

(The Druid smiles at Arthur's barely concealed shock at his words, both at the idea that someone had snuck into his castle undetected, and at the mention of Emrys. One of the the few conversations he'd had with Gaius had been an in-depth explanation of who Emrys was, and his and Arthur's destiny (the physician had failed, of course, to mention Emrys' true identity.))

The Druid continues gently:

"-He's not one for public appearances."

"I.... of course. Will you and your group be attending? Or would you like to be shown to your rooms immediately?"

"This is a matter to be discussed privately, between the two of you, My Lord. Myself and my group have a camp just beyond the city walls that we will return to. Thank you for the offer of hospitality, we appreciate the kindness greatly."

With that, the Druid gives another short bow before turning and leaving through the castle gates, his group following closely behind him.

Arthur takes a deep breath, briefly glancing at Sir Leon, who stands at his side, and instructing him to inform the council that any remaining meetings for the day had been cancelled.

Leon gives a stiff nod and stalks off. He had been the best at hiding his disdain for his former best friend, but it still shone through occasionally, and Arthur's heart clenches as he thinks that he really can blame no one but himself for the deterioration of everything in his personal life.

With another deep breath, he re-enters the castle, and heads towards the throne room, trying to psyche himself up for meeting the supposed Leader of All Magic, who had managed to sneak his way into the heart of the castle, without anyone noticing or raising the alarm.

He pauses briefly outside the doors, and instructs the guards to not let Anyone in, without the King's express permission.

They nod, and with that, Arthur opens the doors and enters, shutting them quietly, before turning around to be faced with a near empty throne room.

He furrows his brow as his eyes settle on a single man, his back to Arthur where he stands gazing out a window, onto the courtyard below.

Arthur can't see his face, he can't see much of him to be honest, he's shrouded in a floor length blue cloak, hood up and covering his head.

The King stares only for a moment before raising himself to his full height, clearing his throat, and speaking:

"Lord Emrys? It's my honour to welcome you to Camelot. Thank you for coming."

The man turns his head slightly at that, though not enough for Arthur to see any more of his face.

"Your honour?-"

He huffs a small laugh at that, though it sounds dry and sarcastic, as opposed to genuinely humoured.

"- we shall see about that."

His voice comes out strangely, obviously magically altered, and Arthur has to stop himself from gulping at the many voices echoing around the otherwise empty room.

They sound sort of... familiar? But he pushes that feeling down and takes yet another deep breath:

"Of course. I've been told a great deal about you. That you have always been an ally to Camelot, and have protected both me personally, and the Kingdom, from the shadows, never asking for credit or requesting recognition. I thank you for that, my gratitude knows no bounds. You had no reason to protect a kingdom that previously would have seen you burn, though I swear to you, that is not how things work now."

Emrys let's out a chuckle at that, this one somehow even less humoured than the last

He gives a small nod, before saying, almost to himself, though Arthur hears anyway:

"Yes, we shall see."

His voice is no longer disguised, and Arthur once again pushes down the feeling of recognition blooming in his chest. He's sure he knows that voice.

("It sounds like.... no. It isn't. Stop hearing things that aren't there. You're just setting yourself up for heartbreak." runs through his head.)

Arthur is unsure how to continue the conversation from there, but before he has to force some sort of response out, Emrys finally turns, and lowers his hood.

Arthur takes a step back and gasps, his eyes wide.

Merlin's hard eyes stare back at him, his expression completely blank. He looks very different, but is still recognisable as Arthur's former manservant.

"...Merlin?" Escapes Arthur's mouth, so quietly he can barely hear it himself

At this, Emrys let's out a deep sigh, sounding almost resigned, as he cocks an eyebrow and replies:

"No one's called me that in two and a half years. You know, I used to hate the idea of people calling me Emrys instead of Merlin. Now, I find that I feel the exact opposite.-"

He tilts his head slightly, looking briefly puzzled as he maintains eye contact and mumbles:

“-Or perhaps it’s just you.”

At this Arthur gulps, and really looks at Merlin... or Emrys.

He's bulked out a little, no longer skinny and sickly looking, he fills his clothes (good quality, blues and silvers and blacks, intricate patterns and fitting well) in a way he never had before. His hair has grown out long and curls around his ears. His beard has grown in a little.

(Think, the living and the dead) :

His hands, which now have druid markings tattooed all over (they're also just about visible above his collar, though they don't go very far up his neck) , are clasped tightly in front of him, his fingers adorned with a couple of rings.

Nothing he wears looks especially expensive, Merlin had never been one to dress up, but they are good quality, and screamed "Druid" and "powerful".

"You're Emrys? Why did you never say??"

Merli-... Emrys tenses his jaw at that, his face showing slight anger as opposed to the boredom it displayed before, but before he can answer, the gang bursts in all at once.

Arthur can hear the guards yelling over the top of the door banging against the wall, and the footsteps of eight people rushing into the room.

"I tried to stop them sire but they wouldn't- Merlin??" From Leon has Arthur letting out a frustrated growl.

The King sweeps his eyes over the rest of the group as they all stare in surprise at Merlin.

Gaius is the only one who doesn't look surprised, he is instead smiling, and steps forward to offer Merlin a hug, which he accepts with no resistance as a small smile graces his face.

Merlin speaks quietly, but everyone can hear him:

"It's good to see you Gaius. I've missed you. When this is all sorted I've got so many things to tell you, to show you."

Gaius pulls back and grins even wider,

"All in time, dear boy. You're looking very well. I'm glad you've finally revealed yourself as the Lord Emrys."

Merlin blushes slightly at that and looks down:

"I haven't gone by the name Merlin in almost three years Gaius, Camelot has been the only place to not know me."

Merlin steps back, and glances quickly at the others, before settling his gaze on Arthur, who is looking a little like an animal caught in a trap. Merlin's eyes harden once again, and he schools his face back into disinterest and boredom:

"As I was about to say before, My King, I didn't get a chance to explain myself to you before I awoke, shackled and blinded and cold, with a rather nasty head wound, in the middle of a forest. And quite frankly, after that, I wasn't prepared to stumble my way back to Camelot and try for a second time. Though perhaps I should be grateful you simply knocked me out and dumped me, as opposed to burning me?"

Arthur looks to be in physical pain, but doesn't look away from Merlin, not even as the others gasp and mutter and stare and glare at him.

"Shackled? You.... I knew you were lying you monster. How could you?!" From Morgana is the first thing loud enough to be heard.

It's Gwaine who speaks next, but Arthur still doesn't look away from Merlin:

"You bastard. What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He goes to draw his sword and step towards the King, but Elyan holds him back:

"No, Gwaine. It isn't our place. This is Merlin's fight, and he knows we all stand with him."

At that, Merlin finally looks away, an ever so slight smile escapes as Elyan nods to him, and becomes the first of the group to move to stand behind Merlin, facing the king. The others follow shortly after.

They stand in a group just behind him, the fury rolling off them in waves.

Morgana steps forward and takes one of Merlin's hands in her own. Staring Arthur down, she speaks, her eyes flash gold as a sharp wind whips through the throne room. No windows or doors have been left open:

"Would you have done the same to me, brother-mine? Would you have beaten me and shackled me and left me in a forest to rot?"

Arthur steps back in complete shock, the group behind her and Merlin are also shocked, but take it in their stride.

Merlin squeezes her hand in a silent "I'm sorry, I'm with you, I'll teach you, you're safe."

Arthur doesn't really have the words at this point. He's speechless and in shock and almost crying.

He had always known that his first meeting with Merlin would be difficult, but he wasn't expecting everyone who had ever been important to him to be there as well, stood opposite him, hating him.

The wind dies down as Gwen places a hand on the other woman's shoulder from behind. Merlin looks towards Morgana first, and offers a comforting smile to her teary face, before looking behind him to the others.

"As much as I appreciate the support, and as much as I love, and have missed you all, I think me and the King need to have a private meeting on the matter. Personal problems aside, I need to see to the continued safety of my people."

It’s quiet, reserved Percival, who speaks up:

"Like hell are we leaving you with him now we know what he did." The others nod at this, but Merlin replies gently:

"I'll be fine, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself. Go, I'll find you later."

At this, he turns once more to Morgana:

"There is a group of Druids camped just beyond the city walls, go to them, take Gaius. They will help you until this is all resolved, and then I can teach you myself." he says with a smile, and at her nod, he glances at Gaius, who steps forward and leads Morgana out the room, closely followed by a hesitating gaggle of knights.

Gwen is the only one who remains, as she takes Merlin’s hand briefly in Morgana’s place, and snarls at Arthur:

"Monster."

-before following the others out of the room, and shutting the door behind her, leaving the throne room once again empty of people, bar the Forever King and the Immortal One.

Merlin speaks first, looking back to Arthur, unwavering and determined:

"How do I know this is all real? The change in laws?"

"I... what? What do you mean real? Of course it's real. Merlin please, can we just-"

Merlin turns away as he interrupts him, and walks back towards the window, to look upon the courtyard, where countless innocents had been slaughtered:

"Pretending to change the laws so you can lure my people to your city, before starting another purge, sounds like exactly something Uther's son would do. I will not put my people in danger by encouraging them to come here, before I can be sure they are truly safe from the Pendragon line."

Arthur's heart breaks even more. He really had damaged the relationship between himself and Merlin more than he ever could've imagined. Merlin had seemed to make it his life goal to assure Arthur that he wasn't his father, that he could follow his own path and create his own legacy. Before Arthur had ruined everything.

"I would never. The law is changed. Sorcer- your people, are safe. Merlin will you please-"

Merlin turns and interrupts again, looking Arthur directly in the eyes, obviously not prepared to let the conversation turn personal.

"Promises made to beings of magic are... powerful. There is magic in words, swear to me that my people are safe from persecution, and I will believe it."

"I...yes. I swear it. People with magic will no longer be unfairly persecuted in this kingdom as long as I am king, I swear it, in the name of Camelot."

Merlin’s eyes flash gold, and Arthur feels as though the words he's just spoken have been branded onto his soul. In a way, they have.

Merlin looks once more out of the window, and replies quietly, but darkly:

"I will hold you to that, Arthur Pendragon."

THE END!

This two-parter has been finished!!

As per usual, I only write drafts, so if someone wants to write this up all proper, then go for it, credit and tag me✌

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coconut-cluster · 3 years

Text

happy late birthday virgil <3 (im sorry there’s no clear beginning, it’s midnight here and im tired aslkfjsfksjl)

Roman smiles at him, and it’s a small thing, soft and sad and knowing enough to make Virgil want to look away, turn to stare at the wall and preserve his flippant frown before it cracks. He doesn’t look away. “You can say you miss them, Virge.”

There’s a vise around his heart as they stare at each other for a moment. Roman’s smile doesn’t falter or fade, but after another minute of silence, he looks down at his own lap with a sigh - Virgil composes himself in the few seconds that follow, taking a deep breath, focusing on the flickering candle flame as Roman tugs gently at a loose thread on the embellishments near his cuffs. For a minute, they’re quiet.

“I haven’t celebrated with Remus in years,” Roman says finally. His voice is quiet, faint like the flame before them, and Virgil doesn’t look at him just yet. “I don’t know when we stopped, exactly, but...”

His eyebrows furrow, mouth scrunched to the side, part of his thinking face when something is more frustrating than he expected - whether it’s the remembering or the talking about it that he finds frustrating, Virgil isn’t sure, but he disregards it either way, shaking his head instead and moving swiftly along. “Whenever we started to grow apart, however long ago that was - Logan and Patton got the message, and Janus, too, I guess. We just didn’t do the little celebration that year. Haven’t done it since.

“And I miss it.” The gold thread rips free of the embellishment, a lonely string that leaves another mangled end in its wake. Virgil’s eyes dart from the candle to the shine of Roman’s gilded sleeve as the prince’s shoulders fall, ever so slightly, and they both fall silent again. “I miss him every year.”

None of the Sides are used to talking about these things, the buried memories and regrets and icky feelings that crawl back when things are too quiet. They all have a habit to subdue them in whichever way they see fit - ignoring them, denying them, lying through their teeth until even they start to believe everything’s fine. Virgil’s, he supposes, are fairly obvious regardless (he’s never been good at staying quiet about the bad things), but he knows full well how carefully, how deliberately Roman has constructed a suit of armor to hide his own troubles: a shiny sash, a charming smile, a silly pose and that lilt to his voice that remind Virgil of a noble from some Shakespeare play he can’t name. He’s a character through and through - until he isn’t, and what’s left behind is just... Roman, with penitence and regret just like the rest of them.

Roman has built a golden wall to keep things from view, and Virgil is sort of honored to be the one to see it chip.

“I miss them,” he says quietly. Roman looks to him, eyebrows raised - his eyes shine, and Virgil can’t tell if it’s unshed tears or something proud for him (proud of him?). Maybe both. He wouldn’t mind both. “Remus used to bake these horrible cupcakes every year,” he continues, his frown quirking into the smallest rueful smile, “and I mean it, those cupcakes were a war crime - and every year, Jan would just roll his eyes and make a cake instead, and we’d all sit in the living room and watch a movie.

“We didn’t really do presents - not like you guys do, anyway. Remus just promised not to wreak havoc for the day, and Janus...” He picks at his own loose thread, the white end sticking up from one of his hoodie’s stitches. Roman scoots closer and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Material gifts were always temporary, I think that was his reason, so he liked to teach me random stuff instead. He showed me how to write in code one year, and how to lace shoes differently, and how to figure out someone’s tells when they lie.” A beat of silence, another tug at the loose thread. “He taught me how to sew.”

And although he pulls, the thread doesn’t come loose; after a second, he just tucks it back into the stitch, securing the end beneath rows of unbroken string. He doesn’t look, but he can just see Roman’s tiny smile in the corner of his eye. “Sometimes it seemed like he spent the entire year learning something new for the next birthday, mine or Remus’, just to have something to teach us. He was like that about a lot of stuff, all the thinking ahead and planning things out like his life depended on it. Logan reminds me of him, when I think about it - they’re both stupidly dogmatic, I think, but they’re thoughtful, like a stuffy older brother or something.”

Roman gives a little laugh at that. “Wow, you get two older brothers and I just get a twin?” he jokes, and despite the bittersweet weight of remembering, Virgil feels himself grin at last. “That seems unfair.”

“I’d offer to switch, but I don’t think I’d ever willingly trade Logan for Remus - no offense.”

“Full offense taken. How dare you insult my bloodline.”

“Does it count as bloodline if we’re just figments of Thomas’ imagination?”

“Oh Jesus,” Roman’s hand drops from his shoulder at last to shove him, and they’re both laughing as Virgil nearly kicks his cupcake over in the process, barely saved by a feigningly horrified prince. “Don’t give me an existential crisis on your birthday, we’re supposed to be enjoying the festivity of it all!”

“Maybe I enjoy giving you an existential crisis, what then?”

“Then you’re just a bitter little bat of an imagination figment.”

“...Rude.” He sits back up, a smile still lighting up his face as he elbows Roman in the side. “Give me my cupcake. You look like a knock-off Hamlet holding it like that.”

Roman glares through his own lingering laughter, but he hands the purple-wrapped cupcake to Virgil; the scowl dissipates as the anxious Side blows out the candle at last.

“What’d you wish for?” he asks expectantly, eyes bright while Virgil plucks the candle from the dark purple icing and tosses it onto the paper plate in front of them.

“I can’t tell you, dork.” Roman’s mouth makes a little o, like he’s genuinely humbled by the Rules of Birthday Candle Wishes, and Virgil resists the urge to laugh all over again. “Although I guess it doesn’t matter - this is my second candle today, since Patton put one on the cake earlier. I doubt I get two wishes for one birthday.”

“Oh, you’re right... but maybe it just makes your first wish stronger! Or makes it come to fruition faster, something like that.” He shifts to sit cross-legged, propping his chin in one palm to blink expectantly at Virgil, who is still trying to peel the wrapper off his cupcake without getting icing all over his hands. “What do you think, Virge? Has your first wish come true already?”

And for a second, Virgil pauses.

He hadn’t technically wished for anything. He never did - he wasn’t good at thinking on the spot, and he definitely wasn’t good asking for things, even from some abstract force associated with little stripey sticks of wax that got stuffed into cake once a year. He just kind of stared at his cake for a minute, looked pensive, and blew out the candle.

But he thinks, looking back, he would have wished for something like this. Something quiet, and comfortable, something to make him feel light against the reminiscence on his shoulders - and even if he’d never have expected it to be with Princey this time last year, he’s happy for it now. Maybe next year, he’ll wish for another surprise like this. (Maybe he’d wish to learn something new next year, if someone will teach him again. Just maybe.)

“You know,” he says, and returns Roman’s smile in full, “I think it has.”

#prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #lexi writes

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joyrose-fandomer · 2 years

Text

So Jimmy's last empire episode gave me brain rot. Soooo have a little fic-y headcanon !

When the emperor of the swamp empire get really mad he go on a salmon killing spree.

Not just a normal hunt like he usually do to calme down.

Not those friendly hunting competitions that he sometimes do with the king of Mazaelia where they compete to know who can kill the most salmons and horses respectively.

Not the hunting he do every year for the cod festival where he clean all the surrounding waters.

No.

It was not a hunt.

It was tentative of mass extinction.

Both Mythland and the Cod empire knew it.

And they knew messing with the cod father -or however he was called now- when he was in a killing spree was not a good idea.

It wasn't like he would react to anything anyway.

He was a killing machine, focused on his work.

Nothing could perturb him, no sound, no movement.

It was like he wasn't even really there.

It happened more then once that Mythland childrens threw things at him to get a reaction. But except wasting a good fish by get it cut mid hair by a barely conscious killing machine it didn't achieve anything.

Even a few emperors tried to calm him down but the best reactions they got was a fish in the face.

It never failed to make everyone laugh when the count of Grimland started getting smacked with salmons, over and over, every time he opened his mouth.

The residents of Mythland and The cod empire where more or less used to it, it happened at least once every three or five years.

But the other emperors where fairly shocked the first time they stumbled across the usually so expressive and slightly clumsy emperor, methodically killing away in silence, face completely hidden under the cod head.

Slashing away, again and again, without ever stopping for five day and five nights.

Until the river turned red.

It became a saying in the two neighbor kingdoms. Although the meaning is different in each of them.

In Mythand, "turning the river red" means shading blood/starting a fight/going to war for no explicit reason.

While in the Cod empire it means pushing someone to their limits and dealing with the consequences.

It actually became an event in both country.

"The red harvest" as they ended calling it.

Since the cod father is to busy killing the salmons to focus on what happened to the dead fish, all the citizens around use the occasion to collect the dead salmons, hence the "harvest".

In Mythand they store the salmons away as food sources and make a big feast because, they have food for months now so why wouldn't they celebrate ?

In the Cod empire they make a large campfires in the center of the city where they burn the salmons in celebrations, sending prayers to the god of the ocean and dance the night away.

There is an unspoken rule during the harvest to let the people of Mythland have the least damage salmons so they could get as much food from it as possible and to let the people of the cod kingdom have the heads for better sacrifices. The scraps often end up left in the river to feed the axolotls and dolphins.

It could seem like the people would be taken aback every time a red harvest happens since it happens at random times based entirety on the cod father's mood but it's actually far from the truth.

In Mythland when a red harvest is about to come the king make a public announcement to let them all get ready. Nobody know how he knew about that, but he did and the Mythland citizens just accepted it.

In the Cod empire it's the cod council who warn the population. It's also them who get in charge of the empire while the cod father is unable to do so.

During the time between the announcement and the red harvest the people of the swamp are as comforting and nice to their leaders as possible, giving him gifts and compliments.

He appreciate the gestures but is often very confused about them.

The only one to not know about any of this is cod boy himself who forget everything that happened during his frenzy once the five day and five nights are over.

Once it ended the exhaustion would crash on him all at once and he would fall unconscious for two more days.

During his time unconscious the swamp citizens would carry him back home to his bed and surround him with food, flowers, "get well soon" notes, little hand-made gifts and buckets of cods.

Nobody ever told him about this either out fear or compassion.

To this day the leader of the swamp empire think he just loose consciousness when he get to mad.

It felt weird for everyone to see his full face during the last red harvest. With the cod boy hat being to small to hide his face with.

He looked just as terrifyingly emotionless as he did in every other red harvest, eyes as empty as a dead fish if not for the ominous green glow.

Even the cod boy head looked unsettling with its broken antlers and crooked smile hanging around his owner's neck by a single string and being thrown around at every movement like it was trying to strangle him but simply couldn't get a good grasp.

For the first time, the nights of the red harvest, instead of being celebrated in their respective countries, was celebrated by both kingdom, together, on the walls of the cod empire. Eating and dancing together, the Mythland citizens would eat salmons and throw the scraps in the camp fire for the sea god and the cod citizens would show their local food and learn Mythlands dances.

All while, a few feet under, the cod emperor was ripping monsters apart.

Scales glowing gold, drownings Phantoms and spiders alike in scarlet waters with his riptide trident and slashing away at drowned like he had done it for millennias.

At the end of the 5 days, once the waters where clear again. Jimmy woke up, surrounded with gifts the way it did every time he went unconscious.

He felt guilty looking at them. He didn't feel deserving of them.

He pulled a note that was slipped in his hand.

"You will always be the cod father to me"

...

He picked an other note

"I'm glad you're our leader"

An other

"You are strong no matter what you will say"

An other-

"You're the best leader"

An oth-

"I wouldn't trade you for anyone else"

An o-

"We love you"

Everything turned blurry as his eyes filed with water.

He tried to read other notes anyway.

"Don't burn yourself out"

"Take care of yourself"

"Have a break you deserve it"

"Take your time to rest, we can wait a few days"

And the usual "Get well soon"

He turned to his bed sides table where the cod boy head was resting on a slime pillow, the same he used to put the cod father head, the cod father helmet, the cod empire crown and the only crown on. In the end no matter what he was wearing is citizens always loved him.

Nothing had changed and it would ever change, no matter the hat.

He was Jimmy Solidarity, the leader of the cod empire, The Cod Father.

#empire smp #empire smp spoiler #empire smp headcanon #solidarity gaming #mcyt

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plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows · 3 years

Text

Part 2 of the frametypes headcanon ramble.

Under a cut this time bc it’s l o n g.

↠ PART ONE : read first otherwise this prob wont make sense lol

Notes on Groundframes

↠ Light standards are like your basic sedan, they're fuckin everywhere and most people can't tell the subtypes apart. They make up just under 20% of the population on their own, and tend to be thought of as the ‘average Cybertronian’, for better or worse. There are nine subtypes based on location of origin:

Iaconic — tallish, slim, kinda plain otherwise. Very common.

Meridian — tend to be dorito-shaped, with big spoilers or vents. The most common of the subtypes, theyre fuckin everywhere.

Tagani — smaller than the others, compact and flexible design specs, have a reputation for being the 'sportsmecha' of the frametype due to being made for getting around in big honkin mountains. Fairly rare outside of the Tagan rus.

Kaoni — big and stronk for an average sedan, curvy design aesthetic. Common in the southern hemisphere, less so in the north bc having ‘Kaon’ attached to ur name is an instant popularity nerf.

Tarnais — big and often kinda boxy, probably turns into a small ute. Also common in the south and less so in the north.

Praxian — average in every way except for the doorwings. Not actually that common anymore. The 'doorwing' aesthetic originally comes from Praxus but at this point it's present in most of the northern subtypes because Fashion.

Polyhexi — the northern equivalent of the Kaoni type, generally kinda short and stocky. Super common.

Tyresti — tends to be tall and slim. Design aesthetic leans toward big audial fins, spoilers, generally more flourishes than strictly necessary. Not super common outside of Tyrest.

Tyger Paxi — smallish, often Round. Most notable trait is three-fingered hands, also tend to be enframed with a colorful paintjob. Not common outside of Tyger Pax.

Despite the subtype names being based on locale of origin, they can generally be found all over the planet. There are more of the Polyhexi light standard subtype in Helex than in Polyhex, for example.

Average heights tend to range between 16′ to 20′ or so. Modding for occupation, hobbies, or just plain fashion is very very common and there are a load of different frame blueprints anyway, which makes identifying who’s got what frametype even more difficult. (Functionists hate this.)

↠ Heavy standards are also super common and can be hard to tell apart, though less so because there’s only six subtypes. The Towers subtype is particularly difficult to identify unless you have experience; they can potentially be shorter and weigh less than those aforementioned really large light standards. Heavy standards tend to be more heavyset than light standards, but aside from being slightly larger the main difference between the frametypes is in armor and engine grade — heavies have heavier armor and more powerful engines; they're made to carry a bigger load.

Hesperidus class — more or less the 'ancestral' type. They tend to be leggier and a bit slimmer than other heavies. Spot a hesperidus mech by the deep chests and the big feet.

Equatorial, Boreal, and Austral types were the result of semi-deliberate selection for large long-distance haulers, in the ages before throttles and dexters. They tend to be boxy, heavyset, probably have a van alt.

Towers class — was developed much later than the rest, to fit the Second Generation nobility's aesthetic ideals because what's the point of having a capable servant if they don't look good? (Second Generation noble culture, incidentally, is where the seeds of Functionism came from.)

They also tend to be found in lower-ranked castes than the light standards (with two exceptions being the priestly castes and medics, the former because size is a useful visual shorthand for authority and the latter because working on bigger patients is easier if u are also Big). You'll occasionally see them with offroad tyres and utility altmodes, whereas that's very much Frowned Upon for light standards under a Functionist viewpoint.

↠ Throttles came from the same semideliberate selection process as the bigger heavy standard classes. Cybertronian society in the rebuilding years of the First Generation was mostly made up of small frametypes (because the small frametypes were those who found it easiest to hide underground from the Cataclysm!), and so once they emerged from the cavernous underworld, they found they had a great need for larger, stronger mecha capable of going long distances without the need for refueling. (This is also the same process that gave rise to the durus and efficiens system configurations.) Throttles were the largest and heaviest of these mecha, and for a long time they were actively prized - up until supply outstripped demand and they became associated so strongly with the labor castes that as the social value of the labor castes decreased, so did the status of the throttles.

There are two subtypes:

Southern — developed in the First Generation settlement of the Austral rus. They’re Extremely Common in the labor castes due to their size, strength, and physical endurance. Their armor pattern is usually kinda blocky and/or pointy because that was the height of Fashion for ages and ages. Probably turns into a small truck or some other specialised work vehicle.

Northern — developed about the same time in the settlement of the Tagan rus. Much less common as a result, because the Tagan Heights turned out to be a huge pain in the ass to colonise. They’re often Extremely Round and very well-reinforced, could probably fall off a mountain and their reaction would be like “oops my bad.”

↠ Minibots are the one frametype to have thrived in the Cataclysm. Cybertron's underworld is full of cramped and narrow spaces, so smaller mecha were able to take shelter much deeper and in many more places than larger mecha. The original minibots tended to look like a standard, simply scaled down. Modern frametype subdivisions occurred once Cybertronian society moved out of the underworld into the wide open plains and proto-cities of the First Generation, and suddenly being small in a world of increasingly large mecha was a scarier prospect.

Compact minibots — selected for resilience and the ability to take a pounding and bounce back as quickly as possible. They’re flexible, with simple internal system design and often end up looking a lot like one another, aside from paintjobs and other personal decorations.

Articulates — selected for agility and the ability to get into spaces other mecha can’t. Often built with non-standard proportions, long limbs and occasionally extra limbs and tails.

Sylph minibots — selected for speed and the ability to avoid getting hit in the first place. Common as a frametype, especially where space or other resources are at a premium.

It's culturally quite common and accepted for the articulate and sylph types to physically climb all over their larger brethren (provided they have the appropriate relative ranks/social status). This serves the dual purpose of putting the minibot on more or less the same level as their interlocutor, and making sure the minibot is out of the way of getting stepped on or whatever.

↠ Dexters were one result of a deliberate bioengineering project during the Quintesson Wars, at a time when Cybertron was losing the fight and thus was getting desperate enough to throw whatever the heck they could come up with at the invaders. Researchers took code inheritances from heavy standards, throttles, and heavy warbuilds to create a new type of mech, one with the inherent combat capabilities of the warbuilds and the size, strength, and most importantly the endurance and resilience of the large groundframes, which could serve as an all-rounder both in combat and in supply chains and behind-the-lines defense. Unlike some previous attempts at bioengineering, this was a roaring success.

Dexters are also quite common among Towersmecha despite their size and the perception of them as being suited best to labor, hauling and fighting. The Towersmecha are deliberately invoking an older perception of dexters: this is the shit that won us the Quintesson Wars, so put up or shut up.

Aegis dexters — often interestingly lanky in appearance - think TFP Optimus and pre-war Soundwave - and heavily-armored enough that the warbuild inheritance is visible. They are the most common subtype; you'll find them most often in the military and ground freight castes.

Eurus dexters — some of the biggest groundframes, often outstripping the largest heavy warbuilds and coming second only to their dexter cousins, the rayets. They are much more heavyset than the aegis subtype, though again visibly well-armored. They tend to have something of an hourglass shape, and altmodes are basically limited to large haulers, tanks, and guncars.

Rayet dexters — the largest groundbound transforming mecha bar none. They are often tall and leggy, though not to the same extent as aegis dexters, and the vast majority take on rail altmodes and work in rail-based castes. The largest can have difficulty finding accommodation and furniture that's rated for their size. Some absolute madman once had the idea of creating a combiner entirely out of rayet dexters and these guys are now basically the biggest celebrities on Velocitron. (Literally.)

Notes on Flightframes

↠ Light jets are most of what came through the Cataclysm unharmed; jets have always tended larger than groundbound frames because of their engines (both physical size and the size of the tanks needed to hold enough fuel to keep them going) and also their wings. The frametype subdivisions among light jets are divided by engine grade and how far a jet can fly without needing to be refueled, and therefore size.

Flightframes in general can be easily modded for aquatic altmodes, but it is most common among light jets. This is a fairly comprehensive mod, involving most bodily systems, but it's not considered a reformat because it's not really changing any of the frame's basic architecture (although wing area is usually significantly reduced). By contrast, modding a warframe or a groundframe for a fully-aquatic altmode requires a full reformat.

Super-light jets — the jet equivalent of minibots, fairly common and especially well-suited to city life. Often small and agile enough to fly indoors, and like groundbound minibots are prone to climbing their larger brethren. Flightframes tend to dislike this more than groundframes do, so this subtype has a reputation for being particularly scatterbrained and tactile.

Aurora-class — a little larger, match well to the light and heavy standards in size class. Usually leggy with wide shoulders and dorito torsos, engines often slung on the back between flexible wing-joints. Accounts for probably like 25% of all flightframes because they strike a handy balance of ‘can fly’ with ‘relatively cheap to build’ and ‘won’t drink you out of house and home.’

Comet-class — larger again, roughly dexter-sized. Cuts a striking figure with long wings and legs, but aren’t particularly economic either in enframing costs or fuel intake. Mostly they turn up in rich clades, which then gives them a secondary reputation for being Pretty.

↠ Heavy jets diverged from light jets twice - once during the Dynasty of Primes, and once again after the Cataclysm. The largest Dynastic flightframes were simply too large to take shelter underground as the meteorites began to hit. As such, while light jets are one of the five most common frametypes, heavy jets are much rarer, and tend to be limited in the jobs they do and the castes they occupy. Socially, they’re also limited by their sheer size - a common refrain among the larger flightframes.

Like light jets, the subtypes are divided by engine grade and range, and overall size:

Notos-class — the smallest, but only relative to the other classes. Usually identifiable by not having delta-wings, and a relatively slim v-shaped frame.

Lipara-class — delta-winged and often built like a flying brick. You can tell they were built for cargo, although these days they’re somewhat outdated.

Erebus-class — delta-winged, extreme long-distance fliers built for speed and coverage. Often mistaken for smaller shuttles, but generally not capable of spaceflight.

↠ Shuttles diverged from heavy jets relatively late; during the Quintesson Wars, as a product of the increased need for rapid long-distance transport. The smallest shuttles usually look very similar in root-mode to the Erebus-class heavy jets (and even their frame blueprints and code inheritance is extremely similar at a glance), but where heavy jets are limited to atmospheric flight, the shuttles are capable of spaceflight. Consequently the heavy jet >> shuttle reformat is one of the easiest to do.

Delta-class — the vanguard of Cybertron’s moon colonies, designed for local space exploration. Tend to have the classic flightframe dorito shape with large delta wings.

Iota-class — capable of longer-range spaceflight, generally built to be extremely self-sufficient. Usually not an atmospheric flier; wings are small if present at all and tend to get tacked onto unusual places in root mode.

Omega-class — these guys are the biggest transforming Cybertronians, period. Extremely rare, extremely valuable; all those in existence were created by cold-construction in several waves during the Imperial expansion period, explicitly to augment imperial Cybertron's colonial forces. Can be very expensive to maintain, don’t tend to be economically independent in their own right.*

↠ Satellites diverged from heavy jets during the Second Generation, in an experiment which took the lonely high-altitude communications relay hubs and stationed them on the edge of space, orbiting Cybertron like the moons. These first satellites were heavy jets which underwent a fairly simple reformat to make them spaceworthy and give them powerful inbuilt communications hardware. In the early years, these mecha underwent many more mods to make them more efficient at their jobs, and new satellites were designed according to a particular psychological profile - many of those early recruits were simply too social to tolerate extended periods of solitude. Quickly, a new frametype emerged.

Perseid & Lyrid — very similar subtypes originating from Praxus and Tarn respectively. These are common in public, private, and military enterprises alike, and are capable of limited atmospheric flight. They tend to be lanky and full of interesting cables.

Eridanid — rarer, larger, and less maneuverable in atmospheric flight. Most satellites are faceless because why bother? but eridanids take this to an extreme and sometimes lack normal arms or heads entirely.

Tryptid — the largest, are not capable of atmospheric flight at all beyond what is necessary to reach orbital altitude. Like eridanids, they can be identified by fuckin weird body plans.

Satellites and shuttles both contain base coding that prepares them for long periods of solitude. Satellites especially spend most of their time hooked into various planetary networks and often have lively online presences, but depending on their jobs they may go entire vorn without being in the physical presence of another mech. They have a reputation for being very self-sufficient as a result, and often experience culture shock upon returning to their planetary bases.

↠ Rotaries were created in the same no-holds-barred frenzy of military experimentation that created dexters. These are the odd ducks of the flightframe family, inherently flight-capable but sharing more of their code blueprint with groundframes than with flightframes. Cybertronian rotaries are augmented with adjustable jet engines, increasing their load capabilities and range to an extent. Their specialty is in slow flight and hovering; they were designed essentially as aerial assault platforms. They are heavily-armored, usually have two or three different engine systems, often bristling with gun placements, and most of them are rather large.

Zephyr-class — smallish, usually angular and winged. Historically less common than their larger counterparts because of their smaller size, but also an unfortunate tendency to be aggressive little fraggers.

Bolide-class — bigger, more common, best defenses of any of the flightframes, primarily because they’re easy targets. Tend to be built like bricks, with about that much subtlety too.

Notes on Warframes

↠ Light warbuilds and heavy warbuilds are primarily distinguished from each other by armor grade and intended combat role, with heavy warbuilds taking on direct combat roles and light warbuilds primarily intended for ancillary roles (though they are perfectly capable of combat if required and do share the combat optimization of the warframe class as a whole). Light warbuilds have a lighter armor grade, and do not get quite as large as heavy warbuilds, but otherwise they can be very hard to tell apart.

Skirmisher class — optimized for ranged combat and awkward terrain. Light and agile with a lot of gun emplacements and highly developed sensory processing with built-in targeting software. Often mistaken for ur average sedan.

Scout class — optimized for information gathering and being very sneaky. Look like minibots, usually.

Ranger class — combine the two previous types with a focus on long-term missions and endurance. Also tend to look like nothing in particular.

Executive class — are the rarest subtype, with a focus on large-scale data analysis, communications and command. Lots of variation in body type and armor pattern; the internal stuff is what’s characteristic of the subtype.

Heavy warbuilds are divided into three subclasses based on size, armor grade, and intended combat role:

Chevalier class — optimized mainly for speed in close quarters combat. They range across four size classes and account for the largest percentage of the warbuild population. Could be mistaken for an average sedan, but the armor grade tends to be a giveaway.

Reinforcement class — optimized for holding a defensive line; they have the heaviest armor and generally the biggest weapons. Brick-shaped, sometimes wider than they are tall.

Frontliner class — optimized for breaking the other side's defensive line; they have the second biggest weapons and are generally the biggest scariest mecha on the field. Tend to be what others think of when they hear the word 'warframe', despite being relatively uncommon.

↠ Flighted Warbuilds are often called Seekers, a reference to their tendency for target fixation. The nickname caught on in common parlance for being less of a mouthful than the original term. Seekers originated from the same source as dexters and rotaries; their initial code blueprint was a blend of flightframe physical capabilities with warframe armor, weapons systems, and skeletal architecture. Despite having inherent flight capabilities, Seekers are counted among the warframes because they possess all the extra bits that make warframes what they are. They are by far and away the most successful of the warborn frametypes, with a population nine times larger as the dexters and nearly thirty times larger than the rotaries.

Seekers are divided into three subtypes by size, intended combat role, and range.

Skirmisher class — the smallest, agile in the air and best against aerial opponents, but also have the smallest range. Tend to be slim and leggy in root mode.

Bomber class — the largest, with the longest range, the highest top speed and the biggest guns, but also the least maneuverable. Tend to be solid and heavy-limbed in root mode.

Multirole class — strike an elegant balance between skirmisher and bomber, and are generally considered the archetypal Seeker. Classic long-legged dorito shape in root mode.

↠ Triplechangers also originate from the wartime developmental period, but remain exponentially rarer than the other three warborn frametypes, primarily because of the truly ludicrous cost associated with building a triplechanger frame. If you see a triplechanger, chances are they’re either high-ranking military or out of the Towers.

They are divided into two subtypes by size and potential altmode groups:

Ouranos class — generally take one large grounded altmode such as a freight hauler and one small jet or aquatic altmode. Roughly brick-shaped.

Atlas class — generally take one very large grounded altmode such as a locomotive or a tank, and one large jet or aquatic altmode. Roughly house-shaped.

Notes on Monophase Frames

↠ The defining characteristic of monophase frames is that they do not transform. They are a product of the Golden Age colonial push, built to sacrifice transformation ability for defensive size and self-sufficiency. The latter means that they are their own transport, accommodation, and energy-production facility. They do require an intermediary to act for them in the physical world of Cybertron, due to being too large to participate in most real-world social environments, but otherwise are entirely independent. This intermediary is called a keynote, drawing from the much older practice of symbiosis between Cybertronians and minicons, wherein the Cybertronian 'host' is referred to as a keynote. (Similarly, the heart of a gestalt network is also referred to as a keynote.)

↠ Sparked ships came first; the logical conclusion of the Omega class shuttle program. The enormous spark of a sparked ship, created by energy drawn from the Well of All Sparks over a full day, allows such ships to support bodies and systems exponentially larger than an Omega class shuttle - large enough that transformation became impossible, and even larger; enough that the loss of transformation capability was worth it. Sparked ships could carry propulsion systems capable of reaching far-flung corners of the galaxy; necessary in the years before the space bridge network, and could monitor and control their own life-support systems, making decisions in extremis and allowing mecha on board to be placed in suspended animation for the length of the journey to ensure that the ship reached its destination with plenty of resources with which to build a colony.

↠ Sparked cities followed soon after, as an extension of the same program. The first sparked city, named Boreas, was placed on Cybertron, becoming a satellite city of Protihex.

The advantage of sparked cities over traditional cities was that they could be built with extremely limited mobility. Place a sparked city by a rich mineral vein as a convenient residence for all your workers and smelters/refineries, and once the vein runs dry in the future, the city can, over several months, recycle or cast off much of its mass, allowing for efficient transport to the new location and in the process reducing itself to its most fundamental skeleton, at which point it it can simply pick itself up and walk to the next location.

Notes on Unclassified Frames

This is where the mad science happens. :D

↠ Unclassified frames are built from scratch. They might start off from the skeleton of a recognised frametype (most do because it's slightly cheaper) but then be modified past the point of recognition for some reason - usually, to fulfil a task that requires unusual specs. It takes a lot to make such a frame 'unclassified' - you have to change multiple systems in a pervasive manner. One example are the handful of 'living gun emplacements' that were created during Nova Prime's colonial wars, mecha whose entire frames were built around an enormous plasma gun. These mecha did not live long or comfortable lives; the stresses of firing that gun ultimately proved too much and the design was shelved indefinitely.

Red Alert is the only unclassified frame I've thought much about; he has most of the outward features of a standard Cybertronian (he looks like a particularly tall heavy standard) but his 'alt mode' is basically him wiring himself into a very special supercomputer, one of three that monitor the Grid at all times. He's stuffed full of interesting nanocircuits that don't look like anything much until he's in that alt mode form, at which they reveal themselves to be thousands of very small processors geared toward a single purpose - data monitoring. (If you're doing stuff on the Grid, you've got a one in three chance of Red Alert being your own personal FBI agent meme.)

Notes on Other Shit

↠ Economic independence (or lack thereof) is an unfortunate Golden Age construction related to the buying and selling of debts, and the economic exploitation of those subject to said debts. Larger shuttles and satellites, triplechangers, and especially monophase mecha tend to end up in contracts where their entire lives are controlled by whoever’s paying for their basic upkeep. The individual mech cannot be bought and sold - but their creation debt and upkeep costs can be.

As u can imagine, this went down the plughole with Optimus Prime’s accession to the Primacy; he narrowly escaped a similar fate mainly bc the Hall of Records head honchos had slightly too many Morals. Unfortunately, by then the Great War was well underway.

#book of hours worldbuilding #tfp headcanons #frame type

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