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#the second thing happened when i was home alone
ponderingmoonlight · 2 days
Note
Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes
omg I love this, let's do it hehe
Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 2,3k
Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...
Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired
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„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.
He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.
You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?
“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.
You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…
It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.
“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.
“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”
It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.
“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”
Little did he know you meant that.
-a week later-
“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”
His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.
“Oh, just work.”
No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.
Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.
You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…
“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“
“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.
Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-
He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.
“Off to bed with you.”
“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.
You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?
Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.
-a few days after-
“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.
You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.
But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.
“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.
“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”
Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.
“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”
With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.
“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.
“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.
“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.
“I’m completely back to normal!”
“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.
“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”
Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.
“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“
“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.
“The combat training with the first year-“
“Done.”
“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”
“Done.”
“Taking care of-“
“Done.”
This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?
“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”
Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.
“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”
“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.
“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”
“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.
“Call her in right now.”
Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.
“And let her leave again in about an hour.”
-an hour later-
“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”
“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.
You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.
But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?
“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.
“Ehm...so…well…”
“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“
“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.
“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.
“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”
“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.
“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”
“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.
“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”
It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…
You open the door with a swift motion.
Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.
The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.
He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.
“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.
Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.
“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.
“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.
But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-
Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…
“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.
You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.
And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…
“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.
You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.
He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.
“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.
“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”
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loonylupinblack3 · 2 days
Text
Overprotective
Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)
Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: posting bc of max's win in china
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Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.
You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.
So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.
He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.
“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.
You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”
Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”
“Is there something wrong with it?”
Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”
You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.
“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.
Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”
“We’re going clubbing….”
Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”
You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”
Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”
“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”
You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”
“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”
Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”
“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”
“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”
“I’m not going to be alone-”
“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”
You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”
Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”
“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.
You returned the embrace. “I always am.”
You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”
You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”
“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”
You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.
All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 
Except things didn’t go to plan.
You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.
Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.
You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.
y/n: maxieeeeeeee
maxie❤️: you okay?
y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club
maxie❤️: are you drunk??
y/n: jst a litttle bit
y/n: lily siad shots
maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?
y/n: im grate
y/n: u should cmoe hree
y/n: i wnna party wth yoou
maxie❤️: already on my way
If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.
Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.
“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”
Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”
Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”
“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.
Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”
You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”
He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”
You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 
Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”
“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”
Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”
You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”
Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”
It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.
Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.
“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.
Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.
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starberry-cupcake · 2 days
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I'm back! Thank you so much for your patience and your kind messages and comments ♥ you are so nice about my silly ramblings, I appreciate it a lot.
previously, on harrowsoup the ninth:
this happened
also I posted this and this as previews and this is the whole tag
currently, chapters 23-26:
"an atmosphere of greater unease had settled over the mithraeum"
aka the emperor's bolthole
btw, no kidding, harrow, I hadn't noticed the unease
so, harrow asks around about the herald situation
I have another deck with dragon heralds but I'm not gonna go on a card tangent this time (you're welcome)
everyone gives terrible and useless descriptions
emperor johnny boy says "Whenever they come I am bundled off to a sealed sanctum at the heart of the Mitrhaeum, so that their insanity can't touch me"
asshole coward awful man
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harrobean is trying to ask why emperor asshat is so sure about her having to die and if there's no way she can make it
emperor johnny says yandere twin isn't that good at being a lyctor yet, even if she's surprising and that if he was still giving silly names, he'd name her "Saint of Awe"
harrow thinks "that had not quite suited Naberius"
get perpetually owned, chad
harrow also mentions not being able to remember things well
YOU THINK, HARROW?
"it was as though your brain had formed a scab over everything that had happened to you"
I don't think that scab is healing well
emperor johnny insists on the rapier
idk why they all insist on the rapier
gideon and camilla didn't like it and were the fucking best cavaliers ever
ARE, THEY ARE THE BEST CAVALIERS EVER
PRESENT TENSE
but anyway, at this point, it could very well be emperor johnbro has aesthetic demands
not like he'll explain anything
harrowbean sees not!dulcinea's door closed, which isn't usual
she second guesses a bit because she can't always trust what she sees and she remembers crux saying "you saw what you saw, Lady, and the only thing you control now is your reaction thereto"
I didn't like that old man, but that's pretty cool of him to say
harrow opens the door and sees this
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alleged gideon the first aka ortus tells harrow to go away very calmly and in a way that is too nice for him, apparently
harrow is upset at the display in front of her salad and goes to complain to yandere twin
which is a terrible place to complain at because she's both into gossip and into kink
if you want someone to take this seriously, that's the last place to go to
"at least you know who's been moving her—so to speak"
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this is what we get combining yandere twin and chad
I've used that gif twice for her already
I forgive her, though, because she says "god is a dickhead" and she's right
she also asks harrow to try to remember why emperor john god has given her the sword
and establishes that harrow previously did something to her jaw so that she couldn't tell her
that's going in the 3d model
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CHAPTER 24
apparently people are being less mean to harrowbean because they're already mourning her
harrow says that alleged gideon the first aka ortus has the name ortus because "it was just a banal and uncomfortable coincidence, as though he'd carried the name of a dead childhood pet"
she believes that the name must have caught on in the ninth because anastasia must have like brought it in and named people after her pal
I think he's named gideon
and that our gideon is named after him because of direct relationship of some capacity, maybe to someone involved
I considered the mom, but it's uncertain
in any case, he has to die
so, harrow puts a lot of wards and safety things in her room
kind of like this
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home alone styling it
but apparently alleged gideon the first aka ortus can bypass wards
much like the sleeper/waker
much like not!dulcinea
wards are basically pointless, I guess, at this point
so he goes into her bathroom when she's bathing because here in the emperor's bolthole, everyone's a disrespectful asshole
harrowbean says he's "a thanergy void" and "the ultimate nemesis of a bone adept"
he tries to kill her while she's looking like this
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I want to give this child some cocoa and play a comfort movie for her, like "the bone collector"
she ended up using the teeth she lost in the fight as projectiles in his eyes and got him to leave
she ended up bloody, unmoving, wet, naked and collapsed on the ground to which yandere twin live reacted to and left
she could have given her a hand
or an arm
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she decided alleged gideon had to die and ice cube barbie aka probably annabel lee agreed
when gideon was among us, there was not enough time for her to throw hands at people and here there's so many people she could be throwing hands at and she's not here to do so
camilla too, but camilla threw hands at martita in a way that was legendary enough
CHAPTER 25
harrow goes with the chisme to dr reverend professor emperor john
she says "I swear by the Locked Tomb"
to which he replies "I wouldn't swear by that in this instance"
which I sure hope doesn't mean anything nasty with my girl ice cube barbie annabel lee because I'm gonna kill this man
she might not be entirely alive (maybe she is, maybe she's just suspended or something) but she deserves better than this piece of work
then he says "well, that's unfortunate"
this man really knows how to handle a situation, huh
emperor john says that it's pretty unlikely that alleged gideon the first aka ortus was doing the dirty with not!dulcinea because he never showed interest before and is "legendarily unamorous"
that's another tshirt I need
I need that one and the witch one immediately
also, now we've got a problem
not just because my telenovela about how this man might or might not be related to our gideon got more convoluted
but also because if alleged gideon is aroace, I'm gonna have to stan
I don't make the rules over here, I have to stand by my people
I have a conflict of interest now
emperor john also says "you must think us all a depraved set of immortal criminals"
I mean yes, I do, but not because of sexy times with zombies
I'm not here to judge the sexytimes of necromancers and whatever they do in their spare time
I don't know the intricacies of consent with ghosts or whatever, I can't be imparting judgment
it's not that, emperor john
it's because you're unpleasant war criminals who are killing planets for fun
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well, the war criminal part I don't have hard evidence on rn but the situation doesn't seem to be in the favor of these people
I feel like when this man talks about the overall situation I'm getting a speech from emperor palpatine
emperor reverend john asks harrow, who has been awake for 25 years, to go to sleep
yeah, sure, she should go to sleep and wait for this guy to come by and try to kill her for the millionth time
meanwhile, harrowbean keeps collecting hours without sleep like
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she makes, at the request of emperor camp counselor john, soup for everyone
I don't remember if it was here or before and I forgot but, this is extremely important
they mentioned cassiopeia being the one who cooked before
cassiopeia the same one with the ceramics collection, if I'm remembering correctly
cassiopeia who was also from the sixth, I think
camilla's house
she's checking every single one of my boxes like a sniper
why isn't she here, we're stuck with the grumpy one and the senior chad
ANYWAY, at the mention of harrow cooking I thought, immediately, "that's an awesome way to kill this guy"
I was picturing more like a poison type situation, although I didn't know how that could be achieved
something like this
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but I should have known poison was too subtle for harrowcita
like I established back when protozoa's head was found in her closet, subtle isn't harrow's style
so it was more like this
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basically, harrow sectioned her tibia to put some in the soup and then she could necrobend it so that it attacked from the inside
if I'm getting it right
insane plan and I love it
emperor john shadyman says "ten thousand years since I've eaten human being, Harrow, and I didn't really want an encore."
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were they snacking on people during the Resurrection???
did they kill people by making lunch?????
???????????????????????????????????????????
"you think we're bad because we have sexy times with ghoulies?? uwu" that's the least of my concerns johnny john man
harrow then breaks down and asks straight to his face WHY THE FUCK MUST SHE SUFFER LIKE THIS
she calls herself a nonsense
the only nonsense here is what this emperor man speaks
she tells him she hasn't slept in six days
for a sleep deprived plan, it was excellent tbh
emperor man over here asks yandere twin to take her to sleep
and then stays with mercygirl to whom he says it's insane that harrow could do what she did and how did mercygirl miss that
this is the situation, as I have previously established
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augustine looks at harrow "as if he had seen the ghost of someone he did not particularly like"
alleged gideon the first aka ortus salutes her on her way out
he doesn't even have heartburn
CHAPTER 26
we're back on gideon-less canaan house because it's time for more people to die
in ways that make 0 sense at all for what we know so far
regina george twin is pushed to her death by mayonnaise uncle
sounds fake to me
like, come on
regina george twin can probably murder that feeble guy on sight
we saw her spar with gideon, she wanted to be the cav that chad ended up being
she might not be a necro but she can stand her ground in a physical fight
mayonnaise uncle without duracell bunny nephew is like a sweaty guy on an anime con complaining about girls ruining everything while buying a maid figurine
she can take him
anyway, he does that and he says to her "and somewhere out there, may all the blood of your blood suffer even a fraction of what I have suffered"
now, this is weird
is he talking about yandere twin?
he wants revenge because yandere twin obliterated him?
is yandere twin "out there"?
I'd say this might be limbo BUT CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD
harrow is going to him and he says "she has not remembered her end" "is this how it happens then?"
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and then he yeeted himself into space
that's what I wanted to do with not!dulcinea all along
so, yeah, well, this canaan business is getting more complicated now that it's not just people being shot
people are throwing themselves and others into space
and the memories of harrow in the emperor's bolthole aren't completely lining up with these
and mayonnaise uncle seemed to have been more aware of things than others around here?? or maybe just more forthcoming??? in that cryptic otaku way of his
also, no camilla at all still
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Things are heating up in the emperor's bolthole, hope to come back soon with another one and thanks for the patience, hope it was worth it.
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acourtofthought · 1 day
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What would you say are the top 3 (or 5) strongest clues that say Elucien/Gwynriel are gonna happen? The ones that really feel so solid to you.
Ooooh, this is a good question.
For Gwynriel:
That Gwyn is the only character to treat Az's shadows as being separate from himself. It' like a guy who begins dating a girl who has children but he never pays attention to them versus the guy who goes out of his way to get to know the children, proving that he understands the girl and her children are a packaged deal.
That Az is not looking as Gwyn as someone in need of his protection. I'm sure there will be some of that in their book, mates always look out for one another, but there is a big difference between "we can do this together" versus, "I'll do it for you so you don't get hurt".
That Gwyn seems to have a bloodthirsty side to her personality, just as Az does. He can torture in a symphony of pain which means he has chosen to finesse his craft. He's not "let's get this over as quick as possible because I don't like it," it's, "I'm going to draw this out nice and slow and make it hurt in ways you never dreamed." I think he feels guilty about his enjoyment of it afterward because he thinks it makes him a bad person but I think he gets satisfaction from the actual act. Someone like Gwyn who was excited over the thought of the Valkyries cracking skulls and skewering their enemies is well matched for his brutality.
That Gwyn and Az seem to prefer a smaller group of friends over being extremely social, the life of the party. Neither seems to mind their alone time.
For Elucien, there are so many:
That Elain and Lucien share important core values. They are quick to apologize for failing others, they both prefer to avoid violence, they both enjoy being social and engaging with others. There will never be a time where they have to check up on one another, "I'm sorry, is this too overwhelming for you? We can head home if you need".
That Lucien has been loyal to Elain and only Elain ever since he found out who she was to him. No, he did not instantly love her but he chose to respect their bond while he took the time to learn about her whereas he could have easily continued his rakish ways especially after learning she was engaged to someone else. Loyalty to the FMC is sexy.
That Lucien was the one to meet Elain's father and live in the human lands. These are two enormous parts of Elain's past, things that mattered a great deal to her and it will only ever be Lucien who has insider knowledge of who her father was and what being human is about.
That SJM retconned Lucien's father so he'd have the power of the sun in his veins and had Elain constantly by the sunniest windows, as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent, claiming that she needs Sunshine.
That Elain has not yet touched or truly gotten to know Lucien. If the author wanted us to see why they were poorly matched, she would have shown them interacting. She would have shown that despite their best efforts to acknowledge their bond, they were just not fitting. Instead, she has Elain keeping Lucien at a distance book after book and I will never believe the answer to that puzzle is because "she doesn't like him," "she's clearly not interested." An author would more likely prevent two mates from interacting in a major way because she knows there is something there. She knows characters like Elain and Lucien need to remain apart because their chemistry will be obvious the second they start really talking.
Because Elain can hear Lucien's heart and because she is the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. Because he knew she needed fresh air when every single other person in the IC just accepted her being cooped up in her room for weeks. There is a connection between Elucien that is never going away and it would ruin any other romance for either character. No matter what Elain might share with someone else, Lucien is always going to hold a piece of her that the other cannot touch.
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theotherbuckley · 21 hours
Note
Hi! Do you have any BuckTommy fic recs?
Yes I do!💜
Something, everything by rosetterer 25K
(Basically, they get together, go on dates, fall in love, get in accidents, renovate their home, get cats, and eventually, they get engaged. Buck gets everything he has ever wanted.)
Sweet child of mine by jamespearce911 @diazsdimples 3.4K
Buck and Tommy bring their daughter home from the hospital and enjoy their first few hours alone with a newborn baby.
This is what it feels like by ipretendtobesane @usereddie 1.3K
Buck blushes. Always has. Gets flustered easily, ducks his head with a giddy, boyish grin at any compliment. It’s poetic, really, that he’s a firefighter because he flushes bright, fire engine red every time.
Still, though. He’s not sure he’s ever blushed as much as he does with Tommy.
(Fragile) handle with care by rogerzsteven 3.1K @rogerzsteven
Buck gets hurt on a call, Tommy looks after him.
Come and save me from it by devirnis @devirnis 6K
It happens so quickly. One second Evan is grinning exhaustedly at him, and the next thing Tommy knows, Evan’s eyes go wide as what little colour he has left drains from his face. Tommy makes an aborted move towards him, but Evan shoves his chair back from the island and bolts for the bathroom.
BTHB: appendicitis
Hold me on my bad day by disasterbuckdiaz @bidisasterevankinard 1.2K
Tommy had a bad day, has an awful morning he starts as blanket burrito, but his boyfriend’s cuddles make it better
Pancakes, kisses, and a little bit of TLC by theotherlucifer @theotherbuckley (shameless plug) 4.5K
(or Buck wakes up with a chronic pain flare-up the morning after, and Tommy takes care of him)
Explicit fics:
Hot damn! But no holy man by jay (tofupofu) @dadbodbuck 3.5K
It’s not often that Buck gets the opportunity to feel small. And, sure, he likes the aspects of smallness that he’s been given so far—the being held, the big hands on his waist, the way Tommy covers almost all of Buck when he tops—but he wants more. He wants to feel small in other ways.
But he’s not sure how to ask.
Evan, elated and euphoric by brewrosemilk @gayhoediaz 16.5K
For a moment, that’s all that seems to echo inside of Buck’s head, more than ever before; you have a man on top of you, you are kissing a man; you’re touching a man, and he’s touching you, and you like it.
Buck likes it - not just being with Tommy, being with a man - that part is obvious, but he… likes that he likes it. He loves that he likes it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that he has ever felt more at home in his own body than he does in this very moment.
Teach me how to dance with you by goodboybuck @prettyboybuckley 8.9K
OR: Buck explores the wonders of gay sex (slowly, with a really patient, sweet Tommy guiding the way and while having a lot of fun)
Okay this was WAY longer than I thought. There’s totally more good fics out there but this list is getting long…. Maybe I’ll make another (feel free to RB with your own recs!!)
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youandiwerealive · 2 days
Text
Heaven is bulletproof [rd]
Author’s note: dad!Rúben makes me feel SICK, I need to have his babies 😩 thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy it! Mwah mwah
(Also I woke up a bit ago and proofread this in a rush, so there might be typos)
Wc: 3123 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated
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Rúben has been tired. Even more than just “tired”, he has been exhausted, lately. He was used to having his days filled with practice and recovery sessions, but he was not used to doing all that and having to come home to a very pregnant wife, who could barely walk through the house sometimes - the swollen feet and the back pain being unbearable most of the days. Being eight months pregnant was really taking a tool on you.
On top of all that, he still had to deal with the hormones and the mood swings. God, Rúben had already lost count to the crazy amount of times that he came home to a crying wife. He would get so worried, asking you what happened while seeing you crazily sob about something that must have really upset you.
“We didn’t ate this banana yesterday and now it’s rotten” - you would innocently cry your eyes out, feeling so emotional, irrationally feeling sorry for the poor banana that was going to waste.
Rúben would sigh at your reactions - not because he was done with them, but mainly because of how exhausted he feels. It’s clearly not your fault, he knows it. He’s so grateful that your body is going through so much to prepare your baby to this crazy world. But he just wishes that things could be a little easier now.
His routine has been mental. He can’t barely sleep an entire night anymore, due to you constantly waking up and moving around in bed, not being able to find a position to sleep in without feeling pain. He wakes up feeling tired already, makes you breakfast, gets ready to go to the training center, comes back, does all the domestic chores and everything you need. It’s just too much. He’s been managing to deal with it, but he can’t deny that this chaotic routine really is destroying him - both physical and mentally.
If the man can’t have any rest, how can he play at the same level that he used to? Right, he can’t.
His performance has been getting worse, he couldn’t focus on the game, his tackles got sloppier, he couldn’t do anything straight on the pitch. He knew it, Pep knew it, you knew it. Pep would now put him in the bench in most of the games, and just that fact alone makes Rúben fully frustrated.
He’s been trying to keep it cool, to stay calm and collected, but his mind has been driving him crazy, he would always feel anxious lately and his bad mood was present at all times.
When he was around you, he tried his best not to disturb your peace, but he feels like he needs to vent - to talk to somebody about the huge turn that his reality took in just a couple of weeks. He reaches to his team mate and also one of his best friends, Bernardo - him being a father as well. He could try and talk to you, but you probably would just feel guilty about it and cry in response.
He spoke to Bernardo about how tiring this last month has been to him, how he wished he could just stop the world for a second so he could have a break - but he can’t. Everything is his responsibility now, and on top of that, he’s been getting a lot of hate lately from the fans, due to his lack of performance. People claim that he’s been showing “no professionalism” lately, and that makes him sick.
Bernardo advised your husband to talk to you about how he felt more often. You are tired and scared, but Rúben is too.
You started noticing changes in his behaviour - he doesn’t seemed so happy about this baby anymore. He would still help you with everything you needed, but now he had an attitude and a temper that would silently make you cry when he wasn’t home.
So, you decided to talk to him about it. He arrived home from his game, you assumed that he would come back in a good mood, since they won. Rúben played the second half, making an okay performance - definitely not the worst you’ve been of him this season.
Still, he came home with his face scrunched up in a worried expression - the only one that paints his face regularly now. He gets near you on the couch, kisses your head and gently touches your belly. It’s been like this for the last weeks. He doesn’t talk much, doesn’t give you as much affection as he would before. He leaves you in the living room, and goes to the kitchen - probably to start making dinner for you two.
You try your best to get up from your seat, even with the crazy amount of pain that you’ve been feeling lately, and follow him to the kitchen.
“I think we need to talk” - you blurted out to him. He looks up at you with his eyebrows lifted up, signalling you to continue speaking.
You take a deep breath and try to calm your anxiety and shaky hands, feeling like you could cry just by the thoughts that are going through your brain now - fuck you hormones.
“Uhm, I’ve been noticing that you’ve been a bit different with me and…” - you try to speak but your voice is already trembling.
“… and I just want you to be honest. If you don’t want me anymore, I can leave” - you try your best for your words to sound clear.
“What?” - Rúben asks with his face totally scrunched up in confusion.
“Leaving? What are you taking about?” - he sounds completely surprised now.
“Well, you’ve been acting weird, doing things with an attitude. You’re not as loving as you used to be and it changed very quickly. I don’t know what happened but I’m just begging you to be honest with me” - you’re fully crying now, hating yourself for being so emotional, but you really can’t stop this feeling in your chest that tells you that you might lose the love of your life at anytime now.
His heart breaks at the sight in front of him. Despite all the times when he tried so hard to not annoy you with his problems, he ended up doing worse: made you feel like he doesn’t love you anymore, doesn’t want you anymore. He reaches out to hug you tightly, engulfing you in his arms - the only place you can call ‘home’.
“I’m so sorry, babe” - he says, his voice with a hint of pain and shaking a bit too, now. He kisses your head and caresses your hair as you try to calm yourself down.
“What’s going on? Please, just tell me” - you beg him, as you clean the tears from your face.
He sighs, as he directs you sit on the sofa again, wanting you to be comfortable.
“I have just been really tired lately” - he admits as you two sit down.
“Is that what’s causing your attitude? Is it because you haven’t been getting much sleep? Is it because I move too much-“ - he tries to stop your rambling.
“Amor, I think it’s the fact that everything is happening at the same time. It’s you, the baby, the training, the actual games, the house chores, the lack of sleep, the constant hate comments on social media now… it’s like all eyes are on me, now. I have a thousand things to do by the hour, it’s just getting too much” - he explains softly, allowing some tears to run down his face now, something that rarely happens.
Just like he thought, you are feeling guilty about it, he can see it in your face. He caresses your back softly, trying to get rid of the pain there and the guilt that’s now pooling in your head.
“Why didn’t you talked to me before? Before things got this out of hand” - you asked.
“I didn’t wanted to disturb you. You are almost 9 months pregnant now, preparing yourself to bring our baby into this world. I didn’t wanted to upset you by talking about how tired I am, when I know for sure that you’re feeling a thousand times worse than me” - he continues caressing your body, lovingly looking you in the eyes.
“Still, Rúben. You should’ve come to me. I know I can’t help that much right now, but we would’ve found a solution. Like the house chores thing, we could hire someone to come here and do all the cleaning for us. That would help a bit already. And you really need to rest, so I can sleep on the guest room for a night or two, I don’t mind. That way you might actually have a full night of sleep” - your mind rushes to try and solve all the problems he listed earlier.
“Y/N, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to move to another room, there’s no need for you to sleep alone. What if you need something?” - his “always worried and protective” veneer now showing.
“If I need something, I scream until you wake up and hear me. If I don’t need anything, at least you sleep the entire night, without having to constantly wake up because of me always moving around” - you give him a reassuring smile, while holding his hand in yours now.
“Thank you. You’re right, I should’ve talked to you earlier, but I guess I was embarrassed. Didn’t wanted you to think that I was complaining about being more tired than you - the actual pregnant one, and I ended up fucking it up more. Did you really thought I didn’t wanted you and or baby anymore?” - he almost flinches at the words that came out of his mouth.
“Well, I didn’t knew what to think. Everything was okay and in this last month and a half I believe, everything got so different. I thought you didn’t liked the idea of us having a baby anymore” - you confessed with a sad tone.
“Babe, there’s nothing that I want more in this life than to have our baby with us. I want to hold him, while kissing you and tell you both how much I love you. You are my life, my family, Y/N. And if it’s not the two of us, it doesn’t make sense” - he gives you a loving kiss on the lips.
“We are each other’s home, remember? We are the other’s safe place. Don’t be afraid to open up for me, babe. I’m always by your side” - you tell him before you two kiss again.
Rúben complied to the solutions you’ve found. A nice and gentle lady comes by everyday to clean and organise the house, and Rúben has been spending some nights on the guest room - earning his well deserved rest. His mood started to get better, him feeling a little lighter. His performance on the pitch got better as well, and the hateful comments subside.
One day, when he was doing a recovery session after a game, his phone started ringing and he immediately picked up as he saw it was you calling.
“Hey babe, is everything alright?” - he asked.
“Rúben, you have to come home right now” - you manage to say, already in pain.
“Why, what happened?” - his voice already sounding worried.
“My waters just broke” - that’s all he needs to hear before he’s running around, gathering his belongings and explaining to the club staff that he needs to leave, that he’s going to be a father.
Rúben rushed to get home, and he saw you curled up in a lot of pain, accompanied by the cleaning lady who didn’t left your side until Rúben arrived.
He thanked the lady for helping you and he gets you in the car as he crazily drives to the hospital.
Once you’re there, everything is happening so fast, it’s like your minds can’t keep track of what’s going on. And it’s when you have to start pushing, that your mind gets tied in a knot, and you can’t react. You do a few light pushes, but the pain is unbearable, and you start doubting your ability to get your baby out.
“This is too much, I can’t. It hurts too much” - you say as you start crying, feeling weak and frustrated.
Rúben is right by your side and he holds your hand tightly.
“Amor, please look at me. You can do this, I’m right here with you, we’re in this together, remember? We’re bulletproof together baby, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, you got this babe” - he motivates you until you start pushing again.
The pain is the only thing you can think about right now, and everything sounds muffled to you. Your ears catch Rúben’s praises as you push harder and harder, just wanting to hold your baby now.
“That’s it amor, you got this”, “you’re doing great love, we’re almost there”, “you’re so strong amor, our baby is almost here with us, just push a little more”
When it’s over, and you finally hear your baby crying, you burst into a crying mess too. Rúben is speechless at what just happened, kissing your head non-stop and looking at your baby while the nurses get her cleaned up.
It’s a girl. Matilde. Means “mighty in battle”, and she really made you two fight everything and everyone to keep sane in the last couple of months. She is the reason of everything now, you’re living a full circle moment when it all makes sense.
“You’re so strong, baby, I am so proud of you” - Rúben whispers in your ear, himself getting emotional now too.
You hold your baby for the first time and you two immediately start crying at the sight of her. So tiny, so adorable, so harmless and unaware of all the reality surrounding her. She doesn’t know how loved she is yet, she doesn’t know that she came to unite her mom and dad even more - if that was even possible.
After a while, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, your body aching and tired from the labour. Rúben relaxes you, telling you to sleep without a care in the world, while he looks out for your daughter.
Rúben takes his shirt off, wanting to feel the skin to skin contact with his baby. He holds her gently and incredibly near his chest. He doesn’t want to put her in her crib, feeling completely drunk off her daughter, her smell, her touch, the new feeling that he now has in his chest. He’s holding his entire world in his arms right now, nothing matters anymore.
He gives her little kisses on her forehead and admires her features. The little hair that she has on her head, her little pointy nose just like her father’s and her big brown eyes. The baby looks attentively at Rúben as well, like she’s studying him too.
“Hey amor, it’s your dad” - he smiles at her, introducing himself.
“You’re so beautiful, even more than I could have ever dreamed” - he gently caresses her cheek with his index finger, making the baby smile.
Rúben can’t stop the tears from flowing slowly down his face. He’s in awe with his baby, looking so precious and perfect in his embrace.
“Mom and dad love you so much already, you have no idea” - he starts explaining to the newborn. “These last two months where a bit hard on us, you gave mommy a lot of work and pain, but it’s all worth it now” - he kisses her one more time, unable to stop himself.
“You were so desired, amor. We dreamed about having you for so many times. When your mommy was asleep, I would always hold myself as close as I could to her belly, where you were, so I could feel you moving next to me. I would always imagine how you would look, how would your personality be like. I would cry myself to sleep sometimes, anxious to meet you, doubting if I was going to be a good father to you.
And I promise you now, Matilde, I am going to give you this world and more. But listen, I am not going to spoil you with the newest iPhone, because I want you to value the greatest things in life. I am going to take you on adventures, I am going to show you new countries, other cultures, different realities. I’m teaching you everything I know about respect, loyalty, discipline and kindness. I’m going to play princesses with you, take you to football games of course, teach you how to play the guitar - like I learned a few years ago when we were on lockdown because of this boring virus. Anyway, that’s a story for later.
I promise I’ll always be your best friend, meu amor. I am going to teach you portuguese so we can gossip without your mommy to understand a word” - he laughs quietly at how silly he sounds.
“And you can talk to me about everything. And I mean everything, Matilde. You can talk to me about your friends, your insecurities, your fears, your mistakes. I don’t want you to be like those kids nowadays, that keep things hidden from their parents. I am here to help you and protect you, baby, it’s my life mission now. You can even talk to me about boys - but you better know that you’re only allowed to date when you’re 40 years old” - he smiles at the baby who looks at him like she’s understanding every single word he’s telling her.
“You’re my world, meu amor. I love you more than life, and I’ll never stop proving it to you” - he kisses her once again as she now grips his finger with her entire hand, looking incredibly small next to Rúben’s.
His world stopped. He doesn’t hear any sound except her baby’s, he doesn’t see anyone else beside her and her mom. He finally has his family reunited like he dreamed for so many times. And now, he doesn’t care about sleeping, he doesn’t care about mean comments. He doesn’t care about anything else.
What truly matters is being strongly held in his arms now, and that strong feeling in his chest will never fade away. Nothing can tear you down when you three are together, and Rúben is just now realising that heaven truly is bulletproof.
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undercoverpena · 1 hour
Text
10. cranberry cocktail
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter ten of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3k chapter warnings: SMUT. 18+. jo's bad use and knowledge of DIY. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is called jo made herself horny. see author note at the end.
prev chapter | series masterlist
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It’s difficult not to smile as you approach.
His voice, mid-singing—almost competing with the radio that lingers under his voice—had been travelling out as you walked up to the building. Louder when you pulled open the door, sliding the sunglasses from your face.
A few blinks and your eyes capture his, singing dying out, leaving the original artist blaring around in the background.
Still, you're unable to stifle the smile. Not as you walk closer or as he puts down the tool in hand; least of all when you realise he's looking only half as abashed as you would be if he caught you mid-rendition, watching him dial down the volume on the radio as the door closes behind you.
Frankie had shown you this place once before. Your voice, light, teasing, hand in his: “You’re showing me where the magic happens?”
“I’ve shown you where that happens.”
“Not that magic—or, well, I hope you’re not about to tell me there are even more videos on a different site I need to watch. I’ve been forced to rewatch things lately.”
He’d explained, with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eye, how he’d turned the garage into a workshop. The hours, the pieces he’d started with and the things he’s managed to build, find or bargain for along the way. Even lingered his thumb over the height chart for Luca, the one he told you he began when he first bought the run-down house he made a home.
It was impressive then, but you hadn’t appreciated it as much as you do stepping in today.
You'd been too busy then, watching, studying him. Spotting the way he trailed his thumb across his bottom lip, eyes widening as they tried to smile before his lips as he pointed out highlights he knew you’d have seen from certain videos you’d mentioned.
Now, it's all lit by soft, mid-morning sunlight, looking homely, loved, worn in and appreciated—everything you’d expect from him.
Even if things are out, such as plasterboard and wood leaning against odd edges, everything else has a place. Just like the scent that wanders around and flows as if there’s a constant candle burning, one which includes notes of freshly applied paint, the essence of sawdust and leather. A blended aroma that subtlety clings to his clothes—and then lingers inside your own. A thing which brings comfort, until it seeps in sadness upon the realisation that it's faded from a sweater, bedsheets or your throw after a few days of not seeing him in person.
"Hi, handsome."
He grins, a hello escaping out as his knuckle tips your chin up, your smile back presses to his mouth. Tasting his lips, how they’re tinged with coffee. Frankie planting it more intently as your hands find their way around his waist, heightening it, fingers grasping your cheek.
You swear you could kiss him forever. A thought you know you have continuously, almost every time his mouth finds yours. But you mean it.
Completely. Utterly.
Your palms sliding around, fingers brushing over dry, hard paint specks buried into the soft, beloved cotton of his tee.
“So,” you say when you pull away, teeth biting your lip—finding yourself staring at him, as though his face alone answers everything.
In some ways, you're adamant it does. In others, you know it will.
A feeling that thrums more and more intensely as weeks rack up into months, as your heart flutters in your chest when his eyes hold yours for a second longer than normal.
“What has prompted this little requested visit?”
Grinning, he traces his thumb along your jaw. “Thought you could drill some holes—for your cupboards?”
Smirking, dragging your tongue in a sweeping motion across your lip, you tap your fingers on his waist. “Drill, ay? I didn’t… exactly come dressed to be in your workshop.”
“Wait,” he says, eyes widening, mouth pulled into a line as he brushes his fingers down the fabric of your summer dress that rests along your collarbone. “This isn’t an everyday DIY outfit?”
Grinning, you nudge into him, head shaking—hand grasping a handful of his tee. “No.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, voice dropping, charm encasing each letter as his hands find a home on your hips, “I’ll make sure you don’t get messy.”
A soft laugh escapes you, feeling the way his thumb continues its gentle circling on your cheekbone.
“You on cleanup duty, then?” you reply, the words muffled against his lips. He hums in response, a sound of agreement that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.
Without pulling away, he gently guides you towards the bench—hands on your side as his chin rests on your shoulder.
One glance at him, and he offers you a comforting smile. Before it comes over him, that voice—the one from the videos. All lightly, but sternly instructing you. Talking you through the steps, before he tells you to pick up the black and orange drill from in front of you.
A lick of warmth slides up your spine, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you press closer to him, your body beginning to buzz from the way he’s pressed against you—his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist.
“We’re going to begin with drilling the holes for the handles.”
Rolling your lips, you rest your head against his. “Okay.”
“What you’re gonna do is lightly ease the drill in.”
“Is that so?”
Clearing his throat, you swear you hear your name, it followed quickly by a “Stop.”
“Stop what, Frankie?”
It’s a grunt. A thing buried in his throat before he takes a measured sigh. His hand rises, gripping the top of the power tool before lining the drill bit with the marked wood.
“Being a tease—now, lightly pull the trigger.”
Blanking your face, staring at him with confusion. “So, push it in and out?”
You watch it hit him—slowly. It washes over him in a few blinks, your hips wiggling against his before he groans again. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m very innocent, Morales.”
“Mierda. You’re the opposite of innocent. And no, it’s straight down. Not in and out—we’re not… we’re not fucking it.”
Giggling, you bite the inside of your cheek, adjusting your stance as you swear his groin pushes into your ass on purpose. Finding a way to mumble an okay, you shift your shoulders in preparation. Asking, finger hovering over the trigger of the drill, if you squeeze it lightly as you feel him nod.
Swallowing, you give it a test. A little click. Hearing it, before you see thin crinkles of wood coming away from the pressure.
“Like that?”
Somehow, all beyond you, you manage to keep your voice steady. It all unwilling to tremble—even though his breath is dancing over your neck. Even though his hold on your hip is tightening.
Then there’s the heat pulsating through your dress—the warmth settling into your bones, skin and muscle from his touch. Your body remembering, recalling—able to know just from his presence what he can do, what he has done, how he can unravel you and make you become a mess all from his fingers, mouth and—
“Bit more pressure this time, baby.”
“You can’t say that.”
Snorting, the air dances over your skin as you swear you feel him smirk. “Oh, Rainy. I can.”
You swear his voice drops an octave.
Sweeping the words over you, making your body tense, muscles twisting in on themselves as you try to focus on the drill in your hand. Stare down at the piece of wood he’s set up for you until it’s a blur. Nodding. Finger over the button, knowing you just need to squeeze—
Perfect, he whispers.
And fuck it makes your thighs press together. Makes something rumble inside of you at the same time as the drill fires to life.
The noise is all loud, alarming—deafening. A hole deepening in the wood.
“That's it, just like that. Perfecto, hermosa.”
Even with how loud it is, you can only hear him.
How he layers so much emphasis on the P, the letter is still skating over your skin by the time the rest that follows it has left his tongue.
You can only swallow. Remaining aware, and yet focused in, on how his hand slides down, fingers teasing the end of your dress—a quickly thrown-on thing, an easy option that meant you could arrive here sooner.
“You’re perfect,” he says, kissing it against your neck as his hand slides under your dress, palm flat to your thigh, dragging it up, and up.
Some part of you, all distant, feels him take the drill, hears a click, before it’s out of sight, out of fucking mind.
Then it’s just thick fingers you focus on, how they slide, rub, torture over your underwear—feeling like minutes, hours, days before he manoeuvres. Before he’s forcing elastic to cut into your skin, before you feel him trace along the places you need him desperately.
“Frankie…”
He drags his nose against the side of your face, feeling the exhale flutter against your jaw before he makes you gasp before it grows into a shameless whine.
“This not what you wanted?”
Swallowing, your eyelids quiver. Some part of you, a present part of you that isn’t lost in the way he’s stroking up and down your slick folds, occasionally catching your clit, that he isn’t going to let you come like this.
Even if he's told you he likes the way you sound, has confessed that he likes watching you unravel; his favourite pastime, his favourite movie and soundtrack.
“Need to hear you, Rainy?”
“Want you,” you pant, breathless.
He fans hot breath on your skin. “Want me to fuck you here, baby? On my bench. Hmm?”
You’re fluttering, desperately to squeeze him—fingers or cock, you’re not in a frame of mind to be fussy.
Mind changing, singing, practically bellowing: please, please, fucking, please. Body thrumming, vibrating, legs desperate to shake—if not for the fact they’re keeping you upright. Your fingers find a place on his bench, digging, barely making a mark against the rest on his workbench. But it’s stable, rigid.
“Tell me, baby,” he says, softer, dripping it into your ear like honey—all encased in air that seeps inside of you and makes you forced to chase his lips.
It’s against them you say please. Kissing a y, an e and a s against his mouth, licking past his teeth, hips rocking into his fingers as he circles and circles and circles—
Then, nothing.
Retraction, emptiness. A desperate whine emerges, rising from the back of your throat until it fuses with the air.
An explanation almost demanded, but his belt buckle undoing silences you. His clothed cock presses against you, feeling how hard he is, the size of him making you clench your thighs as cool air kisses the back of your legs when he grabs a fist full of your dress.
“Gonna get rid of these.”
It’s deft, his finger—hooking in the band of your panties as he drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, letting it fall the rest of the way as the fabric finds a home around your ankles. For a moment they just remain there, not entirely confident you can step out of them until he holds you steady, talks you through it:
One foot, then the other. That's it, baby.
Because your body is on auto-pilot, doing things for you, for him. Like parting your thighs as his hand rests on your back as he softly urges you down. Your forearms find the bench, hingeing at the waist, lying your chest flat on his bench, sawdust filling your nose and stitching itself into the upper part of your dress as you turn your head, flakes sticking to your cheek.
And for a moment, an expanse of time, you forget how to breathe, how to be, where you are as you stare at him.
This man, this person who one day you didn’t know and the next you did—is now yours, all yours. Mine, he’d said in bedsheets after the conversation in the kitchen. Like that you’re mine, Rainy. A man you trust, like, lov—
Frankie, who is all handsome, broad and fucking kind, is now looking at you as if you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted to devour in his life. Do it, you silently plead, beg, metaphorically getting on your knees as he washes you in almond-brown eyes.
He’s a sight you couldn’t have ever made up, least of all this one. Fingers, thick—one wrapped in a bandaid—pulling down on the brim of his hat, hiding his eyes, casting half of him in a shadow that makes you almost moan. There’s just the tip of his nose, just his mouth on show, lips spread and curled into a smirk as he lines his cock at your entrance.
You sure? He asks, fingers brushing over your hip, keeping the fabric back, as you smile, nod, and whisper for him to make you feel good before he eases the head of his cock in. It's then your mouth parts around a silent cry of his name, pussy welcoming each inch of him, opening, as you let him slide all he wants to give.
“Know you can take me,” he hushes, “I’m good at measurements, calculations—“
“Fuck.”
“Fuck, you like that.”
Whining his name, he smirks. Because both the feel of him and the act is something you couldn’t have ever concocted. Fuck, a year ago you wouldn’t believe the person you are either. Not this confident being almost laid down on his workbench, feeling this good, this attractive, all bold—asking for this, for what you want. No flicker of shyness or nervousness.
Then there’s him. A sight your mind is struggling to process. Frankie with his teeth glistening with spit as he stares down at you, as he sweeps that burning gaze over you and grunts at the feel of you. One hand, large, slightly calloused, finding meaning on your waist, the other holding your dress up your spine, pressing down, light, but firm—don’t move, baby, stay still.
As if you ever would.
The stretch is welcomed, a dull ache answered, all buried to the hilt. Remaining there, still.
“Move, please—fuck, Frankie, I beg of you.”
He chuckles. A low laugh.
But he does, pulling out before driving back in, making your vision swim, blur. It all overwhelming. Both the sensation and everything else—scents, sounds and touch. His hips slowly moving, his belt buckle clanging and it’s easier to find yourself draped over the bench, cheeks on the wood, inhaling it—the scent that lives in his clothes, in his fingers and aura.
Frankie, just Frankie. Your Frankie—
“So g—fuck—good for me.”
Your fingers dig, grasp—his cock kissing that spot inside of you that forces your toes to curl in your shoes, your mouth managing half of his name before it fades to a moan. All breathy, doused in whimpers and yes’s falling in a verse that leads to a chorus.
“Feel so—oh, good, Frankie.”
“Yeah?”
“Perfect. Feel perfect.”
He moans—low, tinged in a grunt, a hiss, your name etched somewhere in the sound—as he pulls almost all the way out, drawn out, an emptiness beginning to register before he thrusts in. Somehow deeper, somehow filling you more perfectly as you squeeze your grip on the bench.
And you’re close, all light and boneless—but heavy and alive, so alive you feel like fire courses in your veins and you could become more flame than a person.
“Come for me, baby. Right on my bench—fuck, you feel good, so tight—need y’to come. Right here.”
And it crashes against you, all of it. Suddenly unable to smell a thing, hear a thing—you just feel. Feel the sensation of just him and the tip of him hitting that spot which makes you arch as pleasure, all blinding and molten lava rushes through your blood, and flows into your muscles.
All numb and yet tingly.
It takes a moment, but your senses come back one by one, panting, breathless—muscles tired and depleted—as you feel his hips stuttering, the strained noises from behind forcing your eyes open.
He’s a picture, a work of art—a statue that should be carved by someone with talent. Sun streaks in and basks him in a golden hue, illuminating that heart patch on his jaw—the way his tongue is pinned between pearly white teeth, and the vein in his neck throbs angrily as he reaches his own climax.
You clench, aware of it, ogling and admiring pushing him over the edge as he curses, tensing, rigid, pace lost as he spills inside of you, happily taking it all, wishing to wring him dry and ensure he’s empty. Greedy, desperate and fucking needy.
Before his body finds refuge on top of yours, heart hammering against your spine—hat falling, tumbling off onto the floor as the two of you catch your breaths. His hand finds your cheek, stroking his thumb against it.
“Never… I’ve never done that before.”
Smiling, you gaze at him as best as you can. “I like how you drill,” you say, playfully, feeling his laugh rumble through him before he kisses your hairline.
It’s light—perfect.
Feeling the laugh bounce from bone to bone inside of you before he turns and eases you up, chest to chest, murmuring against your lips about a shower, about cleaning you up. And you keep smiling, even more so when he checks your chin and cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing over and over.
“You promised me I wouldn’t get messy.”
Thumb pausing on your cheek, he smirks. “I can clean you up, baby?”
Smirking, you shake your head, heat flooding your cheeks. “How are you planning on doing that?”
He tilts his head, before slowly grasping the bench, descending to his knees. Your mouth unable to stop itself from falling open, all wide, surprised as he presses a kiss to your knee.
“Might want to hold onto something, baby,” he says, writing it against your inner thigh. “Might take me a minute to make sure you’re all cleaned up.”
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NEXT CHAPTER ->
an: while we still have some more chapters of these two, I've been experimenting with a few things and while it won't have any bearing on the main series, there will be some smutty-one-shots that can be read as and when, and if so people wish. they won't require reading of the series, but rather allow anyone to enjoy two people who are becoming comfortable with one another, exploring a few different things. i'm not sure on when the first will be out, but it won't replace normal uploads for them. but rather just be small little things i'd love to include but would feel shoe-horned into my plan. also if there's anything you'd love a bit more of, whether it's a bit more on rainy/frankie or their relationship, my inbox is always open. thank you for letting these pair into your heart.
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atelierlili · 1 day
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It's time take you back to the past
to play the shitty games that suck ass.
Some besties wanted a list of Everlark fics recs where Katniss and/or Peeta are blasted to the past/alternate universe to relive the events of the games to fix it, so here we are!
Time Is Never Found Again...Or Is It? (113,000 + words) by blahblahblah1703
Katniss, after talking to Snow in his rose garden, finds herself somehow back in her childhood home. She has seven months until she enters the arena for the 74th annual Hunger Games, along with the love of her life, who when she last saw him, was still struggling not to kill her, just perfect.
The pre-game everlark that happens here is 🤌. This is part one of a larger series. The sequel (which is wonderful as well) can be found here. This is the series that got me into this rabbit hole.
Afterburn ( 104,000+ words) by BlueMaple
Katniss Everdeen-Mellark goes to the woods surrounding New Appalachia, a.k.a the former District Twelve, on the morning of the fiftieth anniversary of the final Reaping of the Hunger Games. There, she is literally waylaid by her own past, and wakes in the past, six weeks before Primrose was first Reaped. Alone, grieving, terrified, and without a clue on how she got there (and then), she realizes that it will be impossible for her- on every level- to simply live through events as they transpired in her personal future. With no way to return her to that future, she is nevertheless determined to get back to her own party - hopefully with a lot less damage and fewer crucial casualties along the way.
This is apart of the All Sorrows Less series, which is still being updated. It's filled with wonderful side characters, mindblowing twists, a baby I will kill people for and GILF Katniss, what more can I say?
Second Burn ( 127,000+ words) by carnationhes
Katniss wonders if things could be different if she got a second chance. And then she gets one. This morning she wakes up back in District 12 after Peeta's warning of the bombing on Thirteen.
Have you read Second burn? Why haven't you read it yet? You should read it. It's amazing. Literally makes my brain chemistry tingle. I think this is most accurate depiction of a Katniss being blasted to the past with no meta explanation why. It's sooo soo soo good. I'm on my knees please read it and please read the sequel Ignite as well. This series is so underated please.
over and over (lost again) (13,000+ words) by TeaBrigadier
I died in the Hunger Games. It isn’t even the first time it’s happened. I’ve died in the Hunger Games five times now
This is a very self contained time loop where Katniss continuously relieves the first games until she gets it right. I know it doesn't really fit the theme, but this one makes my feel happy feelings and i wanted to recommend something that's isn't so long so I'm adding it anyway. Deathloops are fun!
Ongoing:
Catching sparks (19k words) (Last update 26 Feb 2024) by Silver_Cleo
The time when 23 year old Katniss and Peeta get transported from their home in what had once been Victor's Village of District 12, and into the bodies of their much younger selves, who have just woken up from exiting the arena of the 74th Hunger Games.
Here Katniss and Peeta get traveled to the past to the point where they just win their games. It's a great WIP. I love Everlark working together and being cute + humanizing the 74th tributes and their family <3
I'm probably missing a few, but these are my favourite ones so far. As much as I love the trope, I know it's a monster to take on from a writing standpoint so props to the writers!
I hope you enjoy them <3 There's nothing I love more than shining a light on amazing fics new and old. If you have recs of your own, please send them my way. I love this trope so much haha
@bbrooklynbabe @nightlocked-in @waywardangel-wilds
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Every time I watch Sonic Prime I get blasted with embarrassment on behalf of Sonic and Nine, because I forget just how embarrassing they are about each other.
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arsonist-chicken · 2 months
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PSA, don't talk about anything in your town hall that you don't want every employee and their families to know. Maybe avoid your town hall in general and move to a town where none of your relatives or anyone else you know works unless you want them to know your business.
#source: my mother works in the town hall in the social housing department and immediately when arriving home#starts telling everyone everything that happened today and who applied for housing and who got it and who was kicked out etc etc.#which I Do Not want to know; and also it's another reason for me to move away for a while at least after graduating#because otherwise i'd have applied for social housing in my town which. requires filling out the forms that my mother reviews now.#she doesn't decide who gets housing but i don't need her to look at all my documents and insurance times and former employers etc etc#SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I don't want to know any of this!! how do you arrive home and immediately start talking a mile a second!!#@people who are in relationships: how the FUCK do you deal with coming home and not getting some peace and quiet?#i would lose it if I came home and was immediately talked at for the entire evening about things i don't give a shit about#and that should also not leave the town hall or even the office it belongs to#'are you not hungry or do you just not want to eat with us'. what. the fuck kind of answer do you expect to that.#yes i'm hungry but i'd rather sit in my room hungry and go to my swimming club hungry later than eat with you#and be talked at and questioned about what i did today and what my plans are for the tenth time this week#and having to repeat everything twice for some reason. sunday aka me leaving cannot come soon enough#mine#vent and rant#i also don't need to hear about her GODDAMN DIET PLANS *AGAIN*. i don't care i don't care i don't care!!#leave me alone with dieting!! i'm perfectly capable of falling back into disordered eating habits all by myself! I don't need someone else#to talk about diets and weights and weight loss and calories and weight watchers all the time for that!#i'm perfectly capable of hurting myself like that all on my own; i don't need outside encouragement! god. i cannot wait to live alone#and have my own damn kitchen and enough money to buy proper food that's good for me and that i like regularly.#maybe even see a dietician once to help me find some foods with iron and other things i often have too little of.#and no one to tell me when to eat and then be passive-aggressive about it when i say i don't want to eat now
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sitting in bed eating cheese absolutely stewing
#so im doing the dishes and heard a knock on the door right. and bc both my parents r downstairs i answer it#and guess fucking what? its the guy i literally switched out of french to avoid because he kept asking me super invasive questions#so im like What the fuck do u want. and he starts this whole pity story about how he was soooo worried when i kept disappearing from school#and how id sometimes come back with bruises and never explained anything to him so he had 'no choice' but to FIND MY ADDRESS and check in#his words btw. this boy told me to my FACE that me having a private life FORCED him to stalk me to my fucking home#and i just saw RED. good thing is that when i get mad i get icy and brutal so i spent five minutes telling this thick skulled idiot that#he has no right to know anything abt me that i didnt tell him and you know what he does????#this audacious motherfucker says Lets not do this on the porch. and then tries to push his way into my fucking house. thats a hard no for me#so i told him exactly what was gonna happen: he was either going to get off my property and stay away from me or i would call the cops#and remove him by force. id like to say that i literally said he had ten seconds to leave or id start throwing punches#and he goes .... Cant we just talk abt this 🥺??? so i break his nose. and i was within my legal rights to do so bc he was trespassing soooo#yeah anyways i just cannot fucking BELIEVE the entitlement and audacity of some ppl. like its my fucking life i dont have to tell u shit !!!#what the fuck!!! why do they always think im playong hard to get like ffs leave me ALONE#so that was my night 😙✌️ i hope he dies !#hollyws
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zenyuumi · 1 year
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I hate it here
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tunderilona · 1 year
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woagh. fuck my aunt and also my cousin btw
#ON MY DADS SIDE. not my moms side theyre all cool and great etc <333#the story is too long my dad and his gf filled me and my sister in when we visited them last month#tldr my aunt is a bitch whos quite obviously not happy abt my grandmother surviving her stroke bc she wanted her fucking money#also blocked my dad on every platform bc he tried to do the right thing which is??? saving up my grandmothers money for her#instead of taking it. bc its literally my grandmas money lol also my aunt deleted us all from her facebook friends which is not a loss#tbh bc she was cringe as fuck also she visited my grandmother ONCE when she tricked her into signing a document that was abt#giving her money to her (my aunt). also no one even calls my grandmother except for my dad his gf me my sister and my mom#even tho my grandma has 3 other grandkids lol?????? they didnt even call her during the holidays#all this while one of my cousins is sooooo against the government like girl ur fucking facebook posts worth fuck all when youre#actively working against my dad trying to give the best care to my grandma (bc shes at a nursing home since she refuses to#move in with anyone but also cant live alone bc of her stroke) and this bitch (my aunt) and also my cousin got mad at my dad#and his gf for finding a good place for my grandma where she has her own room etc and were like#well why does she need so much luxury why cant she just stay in a bedroom with 4 other people she doesnt need her own room#like first of all once again this is being paid for by my grandmothers own money and also possibly my dad & his gfs money#second of all go and fuck yourselves lol!!!!!!!!#btw i mentioned my cousin being a leftist bc sometimes ur political views mean fuck all. my dads gf is more of a right winger#and shes a 10000% better person than my bitch ass aunt & cousin. anyway#this could never happen on my moms side btw. when my moms aunt died she left her apartment to my mom and her sister (my aunt)#they sold it and both of them got the same amount of money. like its insane to me when siblings hate each other or start#killing each other over money that could literally never be me and my sister.#if we inherited a big amount of money and one of us was in worse financial situation then that person would get slightly more#we wouldnt even need to discuss it. or would get the same amount. also cant imagine wanting my own mother to die of a#stroke simply so i could have her money like. jfc#and my grandmother has NEVER been abusive towards my aunt nor my dad she was a completely normal parent#my bitch ass aunt even moved to my grandparents after her divorce who let her stay there and didnt even ask for anything in return#and now shes doing all of this shit. die fr
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lakemichigans · 2 years
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i haven’t been following any news about the supernatural prequel but i’m not going to watch it because i know they’ll be sucking john’s cock, balls and all as if we didn’t get enough of that in the show already
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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another thing i had in mind for ex husband simon was that this time you're more resistant. no touching, no nicknames that make you weak-kneed, nothing. divorce means divorce, and the wedge that split the two of you up would probably still be there.
fine by simon, he follows the rules to a T. hands to himself, polite greetings and only talks about the children. maybe for a birthday for the boys, he takes the family shopping for gifts since it's a tuesday and there won't be any party or whatever and when y'all come back home, the lights are on.
they'd been off when y'all left. simon quickly opens the middle console and pulls out his weapon and tells you to get in the drivers seat. should anything come running out, pedal to the metal.
a little bit of time passes, you're about to be driven crazy with anxiety but simon finally comes out, except he's empty handed.
comes to the side and opens the driver door. "whoever was in there is gone. probably hopped the back fence. i've already called the guys."
you're a sobbing mess because how dare someone come into your home? your sanctuary? what if-
and you come to a startling realization. what if you and the boys had been here? alone?
simon's looking down at his phone, and furrows his brows. "i gotta go get-" but you don't let him finish, trembling fingers grabbing the front of his shirt. "you cant leave us here. don't leave me alone. don't- just please. stay."
you're too upset to resist his embrace or correct him when he calls you sweetheart. the guys get there eventually, price and gaz waste no time in sweeping the area and you, accompanied by simon, tuck the kids to bed.
price calls it later, that the place seems to be clear. nothing really taken nor left behind. they all leave, johnny and kyle deciding to stay overnight across the street their car and simon also turns to bid you goodnight, except you don't let him.
you practically beg him to stay, that you won't feel safe without him here. the couch won't do because he's too far away, what if whoever that was comes in through the bedroom windows.
you seek comfort in him and in the dead of night, he whispers promises into your ear as he slides home. promises to keep you safe, to keep the kids safe. that he'd let nothing ever happened to you, not while he still lived and breathed.
when you're finally dozing, with his spend drying in between your legs, he grabs his phone and texts johnny that it's done, they can go home now.
johnny responds in seconds, telling him that he tore his very nice jeans jumping that rough hewn fence of theirs and that simon owes him a new pair.
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fuckyeahisawthat · 2 months
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Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.
We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.
I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.
But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.
Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.
And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.
It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.
It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.
And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.
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