#And everyone can call me a twink too because it’s funny to them I guess

[krutomu]

It’s okay and normal to get pissed off at your friends. It is normal and okay!

[angrilymanaging]

I have some pretty horrible things to say, most of the time, about most things. I might be judgmental, I know I am a tough critic. I can see how people can think I’m a racist. I could see how people could think I’m homophobic, funny story, well I had a primary care Dr. once, He was gay. When I started at the practice, I asked them if I could have a female Dr. he was the only one available at the time, and in a couple months, they may have some openings, and I’m like ok, I will try and wait. So I keep seeing him, until it was time to have my ladies appointment, and I have that appointment with him, that was the last time I saw him, until my significant other and I were at a function, and looking for food and stumbled upon him, at one of the local gay bars, wearing only beach shorts, one of those I don’t know sea shells necklaces that surfer boys wear, and some of the same type of shoes. From then on he became Dr. Twink. Lol, I had stopped seeing him way before that, and for 2 reasons. One before my ladies appointment, I had heard him talking about my case, in the hallway, loud enough for me to hear, through the door. I know that if I heard him, everyone else did too, and I didn’t like that. The next reason was after my lady parts appointment, I had definitely decided that having a male Dr. for this was a boundary I was not going to be able to fold on. It had nothing to do with him being gay, but everything to do, with him being a man. Also at my first appointment with him, he asked if I was a CIS gendered female, I was like “I don’t know what that means” he told me it meant that “I was born a female, and Identify as female”and I said “do you mean I’m a woman” and he answered yes. It wasn’t until a couple days ago, I understood why that would become a focal point in my life. As far as being a racist, I don’t think so, probably more of a bigot. I hate everyone equally to be honest, I am only maybe 30% pro black, I do not have a black card, and I have some extreme prejudices against other races, but they are based 100% on experience with them, not stereo types.

I am not a negative person at all, I am just hyper sensitive, to vibration. I am clairvoyant, and that is off putting to most people, which I can understand, I’m not easy to manipulate, b’tch is a defense mechanism. I don’t even try and be nice anymore. As a southerner, I have a charm, and awe about me that is mysterious, and makes people curious. Persons not bred in the south, see this as manipulation, or somehow phony, and I had to learn to turn it off. It can come off as flirtatious, and I do not want you lol. I am just very sweet. Until you f’ck with me, then I’m sour. Like a power puff girl. I didn’t become aware that I was considered, homophobic, until I said during pride month one year, I “wasn’t proud of being a bisexual, or homosexual person, because, it is mental illness, and that isn’t something I’m proud of” It was a statement I still stand on that hill, and I am entitled to my opinion, it’s not law but, that community, is very sensitive, you know how that goes. I am currently married to a transgender person my spouse is female to male transgender. I am supportive of him, where as, I use his proper pronouns, and I call him my husband, because I respect him as a person, and I don’t attack his identity, unless, he starts f’cking with me, and then I make sure that it is understood that, I have been respectful all the time, but only for your benefit. You being a man is your reality, not mine.

As a disclaimer, I make it known that things I say here are thoughts and feelings, I have already discussed with my partner. So if he reads this and acts all hurt and distraught with someone else, I don’t know what to say, because we’ve had these conversations. I support my partner in every way, I guess really except that. I can hardly take transgender people seriously because this is a choice that you made. You can’t turn 30 and decide that you “are a man” From the time a baby boy is born, he begins conditioning as a male. Until about 5, he doesn’t even really know or understand sex. He probably doesn’t learn this until he is school aged, and then he begins understanding, the difference. After puberty sets in though, he begins if he has the right kinds of parents, learning his place in his home, and the world. This developmental stage is generally when gender roles are beginning to transpire. You take out the garbage because you are a man. You learn to mow lawns or shovel driveways because you need to learn to earn money, because you are a man. If your dad is in your life, he begins to teach you about proper interactions with your female relatives, like first your grandmothers, mom, and sister type relationships, and then your aunts and cousins, like those types of things. You learn how to be friends with girls, and at some point, someone teaches you about how to interact with women in relationships, and the role you play in them. The same goes for girls. I think that this development is delayed though, and somewhat off when you are a male who is raised primarily by your mom, and the type of father you have if you’re raised primarily by your dad if female, works the same way, and even in those types of situations, there is someone for everyone. I’m not saying that if your trans there isn’t, but there is a certain amount of extra shadow work you need to do if this is your situation.

I spoke in earlier posts about how my partner expects me to go half with him on everything, and be 100% financially responsible for myself. I am definitely capable. I have always had a job, or some type of legal hustle if I didn’t, to provide for myself financially. But being raised as women by the type of mothers we have, we weren’t taught to seek husbands who would provide for us, the way they are supposed too, because of the hurt they never healed for, from men who’d hurt them in those areas. We were essentially taught that we needed to be independent, and care for ourselves, and if we did have husbands, we were taught to make sure to “have a plan” in case things don’t work out. I was fortunate enough to have my father present through my entire life, and he taught me that this was an injustice to me. How can you openly love your husband, if you must always in the back of your mind, be thinking, this sh’t may not work out. I need to make sure I have a plan in case it doesn’t. With that type of thought process, my mother taught me to mistrust in relationships, before I even had a reason. I faced most relationships with that thought process, and they failed. I was partially at fault for their failure, because I had the attitude that I am able to do this with or without you. That is a gift and a curse really. A gift because yea, I definitely can, and will. A curse because I didn’t have much experience choosing partners, chose the wrong ones, and I always stayed in long term relationships, way to long because I can do it without you, but I don’t want to, I prefer to do it with you, so I stay until I just can’t take it anymore. I digress, when you don’t have positive males in your life, teaching you the roles you play, even if you grow up to be a trans man, with those positive male role models in your life you know your place and role in the life of the woman you choose. Regardless if she is a career woman, or stay at home wife, you know your place, you know your role, they will align effortlessly. The same can’t be said of trans men without those role models. You essentially become the men you were most exposed to, or lack there of. That is enough said.

In the order of male to female or “trans women” I think that it works the exact same way. Unfortunately we don’t see how well rounded trans women interact with society, we only ever see the negative, I’m assuming because well rounded trans women, are somewhere, being happy minding their own business. It is the quintessential “Karens” of trans women we get the pleasure of coming in contact with. They simply will not do. In the first place, If you are a trans woman I question your motive. Probably because when dabbling in any female territory, men are sketchy and untrustworthy. I learned that, because of my own experience with sex abuse and assault. It was driven home when I worked for several agencies, that catered to persons with developmental disabilities. On one hand, you had an agency who forbade male presence in all female group homes, you can not work in them if you are a man. Discriminatory or not, we are just going to avoid all together taking the risk. On the other, I have had the pleasure of working with ladies who were of the most severe disability, who had been violated. One of which has a grown son. He knows her, and knows what happened to her, understands how he was brought into this world. It breaks my heart to think about someone sexually assaulting this women, who has a baby like mind. Her carrying a child to term, and not understanding what is going on. But it is the nature of the beast. I had a conversation with my spouse, and voiced concern. If a transgender woman came into the woman’s bathroom while I was in there, I probably wouldn’t even want to go anymore. How do I know that you are in fact a trans woman, and not some perv, dressed like a woman, who gets off on watching, or listening to women go to the bathroom? I would never trust your motives.

Like any “Karen” trans women seem to be the most narcissistic. I have read stories about how they are demanding to be transferred from male to female prisons, arguing discrimination because they are not allowed to work out in all female gyms. There is a story about a trans woman cheer leader, who murdered another female student because she stood her ground, citing that it made her uncomfortable to have this person, changing and showering in the locker rooms with her and the other girls, because clearly this individual is a man. Might I add most of these women, still have attached penises. “She” choked that girl to death, for expressing concern for what her reality of the situation was. A trans woman competed in a woman’s swim meet last year, won, and was given a medal, that in my opinion “she” had no right too. As a woman, biologically born a woman, I really resent being called a “cis” gendered female. I was pregnant for 9 months with each of my children I was not a “birthing” person. I came into my moon cycle when I was 13, I am a woman who has a period not a “menstruating” person. I breast fed all of my children, I did not “chest feed” them. All of these innuendos, to make trans women, “Feel” more like women, when you would “feel” like a woman, if you were in fact a woman. Why do I have to have a label because you need one?

The need for attention, repressed insecurity, lack of boundaries and inflated ego, is enough for me to call narcissist. Not to mention the distorted realities, unrealistic expectations, and disregard for other people. Allowing people to “be who they want to be” has simply gotten out of hand. Who is more vulnerable than biological women? We can be offended by nothing, they are allowed to be offended by everything. A new generation of oppressors of our rights, to our own bodies or even to exist. I don’t care how “phobic” you think I am, I would prefer to have medical doctors, OBGYN’S, and dentists who discriminate. I believe that inclusion should be a choice, not something that is forced on you by the government. I read a quote where a biological man, was adamant about choking a trans woman, if it were revealed after they were intimate…. I could only think well, that’s fair cause she would definitely choke you if you called her a man so…..

[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

[defilerwyrm]

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

[gas-station-trackphone]

Fic Recs/Mandatory Reading for Reddie fans

Here is an incomplete list of some of my favorite Reddie fics on ao3, because i cannot get over the sheer talent of this fandom’s wonderful writers! A lot of these are the Greatest Hits that you’ll find on almost every fic list, but that’s why I consider them mandatory reading. like if you haven’t read some of these, what are you doing?

the years go by like days by georgiestauffenberg, rated M

the 27 years in between, but better because richie and eddie stay together. every time i think of this fic, i think of that lady gaga meme where she’s like “brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, etc” and maybe it’s bc this is one of the first reddie fics i ever read, but this one is always gonna be my favorite

broken record by spunknbite, rated E

the mother of all time loop fics. every reddie veteran gets chills at the phrase “the house on Neibolt was still standing”

literally everything by stitchy

like seriously just clear a few days bc you’re not gonna want to stop reading this author once you start. no other author has made me literally fucking cackle in one paragraph and sob in the next like this one, pls do yourself a favor and devour all their works like i did 

the night we met (take me back) by camerasparring, rated E

ch2 fix-it where eddie shows up at richie’s door alive and with no memory. great slow burn with a wonderfully conflicted richie, 10/10

let’s hear it for my baby! series by cloudings, rated E

OOOOOOOHHH boy! a modern teen!reddie grindr AU that’s both steamy AND sweet?? more like a fucking blessing amen hallelujah

a heart that laughter has made sweet by marjaani, rated E

another lovely teen!reddie fic that’s got it all! sweet, stupid boys, humor, a teeny bit of angst, and some 5-alarm fire smut with some top eddie, as a treat

keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theappleppielifestyle, rated T

angst with a happy ending is my favorite, and this one is just fantastic. so sweet, so sad! and stan is featured as eddie’s afterlife buddy and idk about y’all but i cannot get enough of stanley uris in my reddie fics. read this, then read all this author’s reddie fics, they’re all amazing

collateral by loosecannon, sheepknitssweater, rated E

a post-ch2 fic that i guess could be classified as fix-it, BUT with some very interesting twists. they beat the clown, everyone lives, but no one really gets the tropey happy ending. the WIP sequel is also incredible and i live for the updates.

the greater fool  series by mischiefmanager, mostly rated T with some E

this is a series i’ll reread a lot bc it’s so fucking good. follows young reddie into early adulthood, mostly a bunch of cute shit where they figure out themselves and their relationship. also contains the single best teen reddie fic in existence, he came in through the window, but reading the whole series is a must

brokeback derry and everything else by Amuly, rated E

27 years in between, richie and eddie reconnect in their 20s and meet back up in derry twice a year to remember and love each other before going back to their lives and forgetting. so much pain. there’s a lot of sweet stuff in there, but you can see shit’s gonna get complicated from miles away and the anticipation almost gave me stomach ulcers (in a good way). ultimate angst with a happy ending.

let me name the stars for you by playedwright, rated M

speaking of angst with a happy ending...Martian AU!!!!! this one fucked me up in the best way, i literally called my roommate at 2am to vent to her about my emotions after reading it. i go back and reread chapter 8 just to be overwhelmed by it, and it makes me cry every time. plus, there are awesome sequels/companion pieces in the series! read this, i beg you!

walk through fire for you by hyruling, rated T

unwind after all that angst with some cute, drunk, confused eddie being very upset when he finds out richie is engaged. richie only teases him a little before pointing out the matching ring on eddie’s finger. 

in the heat of the summer (you're so different from the rest) by kaboomslang, rated E

post-ch2 slow burn with tags that really say it all, including but not limited to: eddie moves to california and richie is a mess, Eddie Kaspbrak’s Hot Girl Summer, and cute middle aged man dates

pivotal moments by danfanciesphil, polypocket, rated E

high school reddie has a sort of fwb thing goin on, but emotions get in the way. featuring wonderful bevchie friendship, hella miscommunication, cute double dates, high eddie, and a happy ending

like a bullet in the back by jerry_duty, rated M

adult idiots in love! a personal favorite trope of mine! slow burn with a fair helping of angst but a really great ending. richie stays with eddie in new york while he’s there on business, and it takes these losers SO LONG to figure it out but the way they dance around it is very cute

no sense of living without aim [WIP] by liesmyth, rated E

richie and eddie meet on grindr in the 27 years between and hey, whadda ya know, they fall in love! i really love this fic but i’m pretty sure it’s been abandoned. i’ve had it open on my phone browser for like 3 months with no update but i still check it regularly bc i’m pathetic and this fic is just so good i’m DYING to know what happens next so read at ur own risk

a strange sense of familiarity [WIP] by Katranga, rated E

another “they meet and fall in love without remembering” fic, and even though it’s not complete yet, it gets regular updates. oh, also, i’m obsessed with it. they’re long distance fuck buddies who can’t admit they’re in love, and then they get hit with the childhood memories! and everyone lives! what’s not to love!  also PLEASE read kisses take like mint and every other reddie work by this author, they are all fantastic

adult friends by sudowoodo, rated T

AU where adult reddie meet at a first aid seminar for work (immediately fall in love), become friends, become best friends, and finally get to be happy. has some super repressed eddie and intensely pining richie, which is always fun, and genuinely made me laugh out loud. also please check out this author’s other reddie fics, there’s some super sweet kid reddie in there that really warms the heart

the mind's a funny fruit by joldiego, rated T

eddie wakes up barely alive in derry, has 0 memory, calls himself richie, and moves in with some lesbians. an absolute must read that ought to be on every reddie fic rec compilation. i read this a long time ago and just thinking about it makes me want to read it again.

now what i'm gonna say may sound indelicate [WIP] by IfItHollers, rated E

it took me entirely too long to find this fic since i joined the fandom, and it’s truly a fucking masterpiece. it’s almost at 200k now and still unfinished, and the slow burn is excruciating, but this is a legendary fic for a reason. eddie spends the first chunk of this fic in the hospital recovering from the massive chest wound, and then he and richie move the recovery to ben’s cabin in the woods. the author’s notes for each chapter are a story in themselves

signs of a new lifetime by swordfishtrombones, rated T

one of the sweetest, most romantic reddie fics i’ve ever read. a fresh take on a classic concept: post-ch2, they’re in love, they haven’t said/done anything about it yet, BUT!!! it’s not angsty! they are all cute and giggly like “you say it first!” “no, you say it first!” and it makes me fucking MELT

broadcasting tower by swordfishtrombones, rated E

back-to-back recs from the same author! bc i love these fics so much! sort of similar to the last one in that they both know what’s up and just haven’t said it, but this one’s got the angst! i didn’t know when i read it that it was the same author as the other fic, and i thought how funny, i found another reddie author that perfectly captures this pair in such a wonderfully romantic way! i also just noticed there’s a follow up to this so now i have to go read that immediately

eurydice; the original comeback kid by Vulcanodon, rated M

for the love of god please read this and the other work in this series. it’s a ch-2 fix-it with some intense action sequences and major pining, and it has haunted me since i first read it

love on the telephone by tempestbreak, rated E

okay this one is really just 30k of pure smut but it’s also so sweet and features a mini sexual awakening for eddie and some insecure richie with an emphasis on how much they love and trust each other. also it doesn’t hurt that the smut is fire, like does anyone else want that twink obliterated, or is it just me?

the boy who loves you by candlejill, rated E

eddie lives, richie confesses, things are chill and then they’re not. richie’s career flourishes, which is always nice to read and is what ultimately catalyzes eddie’s gay awakening and realization of his love for richie. it’s got some sad angsty parts and a very sweet ending, and it up there as one of my favorite reddie fics of all time

richie and eddie break up [WIP] by skeilig, rated M

a refreshing and realistic take on life ch-2 for the losers, because being in love at thirteen doesn’t mean you can fall into a perfect relationship at 40. i’ll admit, i’m hoping this will ultimately be a “richie and eddie get back together” fic, but it’s still a very good read (and often very funny in the second chapter) at the moment in the midst of their break up

september 1989 and everything else by pineapplecrushface, rated T

cute kid reddie figuring it out and making me smile. the follow up to this and the after derry series by this author are also personal favorites

go west by ssstrychnine, rated T

road trip fic! an absolute work of art slow burn with teen reddie in the 90s. it’s so beautifully written i just wish i could go back and read it for the first time again

the edification of eddie kaspbrak by tozier, rated M

character study with some incredible fucking prose, my lord it gorgeous. explores how eddie learns about love as he grows up, and it’s super fucking sad sometimes bc the poor boy doesn’t know how to have the things he wants and i just want to give him a hug, but it’s really a spectacular fic

circular motion by sinchronicity, rated M

soulmate!AU that follows book canon and even though it’s been a long time since i’ve read it and the details are fuzzy, i remember absolutely loving it and thinking it was incredible

tell me you know by RichiesToesHurt, rated E

college losers with some severely pining and jealous richie with a lovely ending 

predicament bondage [WIP] by dgalerab, rated E

i resisted reading this fic for so long, recently broke and binged all of it, and now i’m like frothing at the mouth for updates. richie’s a closeted actor/comedian who meets eddie, a professional Dom, when he needs help researching a role. they become friends, they develop crushes, richie realizes he’s a sub, and it’s just so much fun to read

there’s a lot more fics to rec so i might add on to this in the future, but in the meantime my biggest tip for for reading fanfiction that took me embarrassingly long to figure out: focus on the authors! if you read something you like, check out the rest of the work by that author bc odds are you’ll like that too. i mentioned it in a few specific works above, but check out the authors catalogues for these fics. if i included every work by these authors that i loved, this list would be miles long

feel free to add on any great stuff i missed, there’s sure to be tons of it!

[marvel-lous-things]

(Tungly.hell isn't letting me answer this in ask form so here)

Long ass post time

Okay spidey's rumoured to be coming back but this concept's fucking hilarious anyway so I'm going with it

Aight. So. The Avengers still exist.

ExcEPT

They're called the Vengeance Boyz

And they are a super secret boyband (more like rly fuckin obscure and unheard of but let's not be mean)

Their lead guitarist is a skinny blond twink named Roger Stevens. He insists that everyone call him Champion USA

Their drummer is a huge buff dude. Played by Chris Hemsworth. In sunglasses. And a he-man wig.

His name is Thorn

Nobody asks why a grown ass man in a dollar store wig and ray ban sunglasses is playing a 17 year old

Which is

Pretty on brand for Hollywood tbh

Oh also

He collects hammers. There's a hammer in the background of every scene he's in. Nobody questions that either. Nobody even notices the hammers. Why are there so many hammers.

Also, Thorn's full name is Throckmorton

Yes like your cousin Throckmorton

(look it up)

Peter did want to join them and he did get an opportunity but he turned it down because becoming lead singer was too much responsibility. He'd rather stick to neighborhood wide karaoke for now.

Then there's nick fury. except there is no nick Fury

It's actually Peter's school principal, Nicki Funaj

She wears an eyepatch on her right eye. It's not damaged or anything she just thinks it looks cool (she's right)

Oh and Happy Hogan is now a woman named Joy Gohan. She's the forehead of security at Peter's school

Also she still has a thing for Aunt May because we can't throw the entire MCU away, now, can we?

(no)

(no we can't)

AND NOW FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT BIT

Tony Stark whomst? We only stan Antoni Starr in this house

CEO of Starr Incorporated, leading manufacturers of high tech prosthetics, also really into research of self sustaining energy for some reason

Y'know, like bic makes condoms and lighters

Or crayons and lighters

Or all three

Or something

whatever

(diversification babey!!!)

Anyway Peter got an internship with Starr Incorporated by accident after he walked into the wrong interview room

Oh and by the way Antoni Starr is played by that one stunt double who Tom Holland mistook for RDJ himself

War Machine is now called Battle Contraption

and it's the pet robot of world renowned robotics pioneer Jiminy Road

He calls it BaCon

Pepper Potts still exists because I love her and I said so

She runs SI's self sustaining energy department and anyone who says otherwise will be jailed

I guess she's renamed to Chilli Potter or some shit idk man

Chilli and Antoni have a son named Marcus Starr who is played by Lexi Rabe with her hair bunched up in a baseball cap

Marcus is always seen wearing absurdly """masculine""" clothing to the point where it's the funniest fucking thing about the franchise

I'm talking a seven year old in cargo pants and a collared camo-patterned shirt with the word MAN written on it in big red text

(yes this is a thinly veiled attempt to keep the ironfam alive)

(shut up)

Peter did build his own suit but only after conveniently finding all the parts to one when he went dumpster diving one day in SI's dumpsters

Nobody knows who threw away a fully functional Spiderman suit in the trash. Along with the accompanying AI.

On a pen drive.

Peter modifies the AI on his windinosaur 98 computer and names it CARMEN

Endgame did happen, but like. In another universe. So. Half the people disappeared and then reappeared again five years later.

There is no explanation

Do not ask for one

(they call it the Bloop)

Thanos is actually a grape juice mascot who gives Peter the creeps

Like the kool aid man

If the kool aid man caused Armageddon in another universe (which, let's be real, he probably did)

The grape juice is called Snappos

Snap-pos

(Heh)

And therein ends my frankly stellar attempt at fixing Sony's plot holes

BUT WAIT. THERE'S MORE.

The best goddamn part: Tom Holland is told Absolutely Nothing About Anything. He's just released onto set like a horse in a hospital and expected to deal.

Because he'll spoil Everything the second he hears about it smh the fool

But also because. it's just really fucking funny to mess with him.

His script contains two lines:

(which is an improvement on his MCU scripts let's be real)

"Peter Parker: [improvises] and also says "oHmYgoDitsroBERtdoWnEYjR" every time the decidedly-not-rdj stunt double shows up on screen"

And

"Peter Parker: [takes off shirt at least 18 times. No explanation provided.]"

Tom Holland is completely Jon Snow Kin (i.e knows nothing) and we get to watch his real reaction as the reality of change hits him like a sack of potatoes to the knees

examples include StuntDouble!RDJ shaking his hand and congratulating him on being promoted to paid intern (to what?)

and Miles Morales's dad (played by Terry Crews and Terry Crews only no I will not negotiate) accuses him of identity theft

Oh and finally

Peter Parker is bisexual now

[gemma-lemma]

Flaming Hearts - A Nalu Fanfiction

Chapter One

“Yes, yes, exactly like that, Miss Lucy. Perfect!” The photographer cheered, changing his own position with every picture he took. Lucy was currently in a studio, white linen behind her and giant lights in front of her to cast the perfect scenery for the beautiful dress she was displaying: a dark red one, that was bound in a chokehold around her neck and had a high slit on each thigh. She wore high heels in the exact same shade of red and translucent white gloves that reached up to her upper arms, but no jewellery. The photographer had decided that Lucy’s own beauty was already splendid enough. She had just giggled and told him to stop making her blush.

“And now put a hand on your hip! Pout! Smile! Squat down! Perfect, Miss Lucy. You are fantastic!”

She might have looked good, but Lucy still felt like she was a mannequin in a showcase. She didn’t really like the photo shootings for all the magazines, though she enjoyed wearing the new dresses. She would much rather have met her friends for a cup of tea or simply read a book today, since it was Sunday, but her father had insisted on her to go. He said it was good for publicity, and Lucy knew that every time he spoke of publicity any fight from her side was useless.

Jude Heartfilia was a businessman, after all. As the head of the great Heartfilia Konzern, a company that produced and distributed all kinds of chemical products, from medicine over skin care to make up, he had little time for his family, which in this place consisted of just Lucy. Her mother had died years before, and Lucy just couldn’t shake the feeling that her death was part of the reason why her father avoided her company so much and would rather work every waking minute. After all, she looked exactly like her mother Layla. Same big brown eyes, glowing blonde hair, curvy figure. It was genetics, really, though Lucy made sure to support those lucky genes with a healthy diet and lots of exercise.

»One last dress, Miss Lucy. We’re almost done.” The photographer announced and she went back to her room to get changed. That was part of the deal they had made. Lucy stood model for the dresses, but she would still get her privacy while getting changed. She had never liked to get changed in front of others, not even the maids who would help her into the complicated dresses for her father’s parties, so it was a relief that she could do it by herself here.

The new dress was of a light rosé colour, with a heart shaped décolleté and reaching down to her shins. The bodice was tight around her chest until her waist, and changed then to a flowing skirt embroidered with beautiful flowers and butterflies. It was more comfortable than the red one, though the high heeled sandals that came with it were anything but that.

“I’m ready.” She called, and a girl entered to change her make up from the darker tones for the red dress to lighter ones that suited the light one. She also changed her hair into a half-up-half-down style and curled the flowing locks with a curling iron.

“Here you go, beautiful as always.” The girl smiled, and Lucy smiled back. The last dress took the longest to photograph, probably because it suited her the best, much to her dismay. She had been sick of modelling already when they were only at the second dress.

When the shooting was finally over, and Lucy had changed back into her own black shirt and red skirt, combined with a pair of black over knees and a red purse, the photographer held her up one last time, shaking her hand enthusiastically.

“Thank you so much for coming today, Miss Lucy. I’m really looking forward to the article The Sorcerer Weekly will write. Hopefully, we will have once again the pleasure of working together!” He chattered cheerfully, but even though Lucy gave him a nod and a polite smile, she couldn’t share his enthusiasm. The Sorcerer Weekly might have been a big number regarding celebrities and business people, but when it came to women their portraits were rather sexist. They wrote about their skin care routines or what their secrets for their perfect bodies were, which wasn’t a wrong thing to do, but still quite annoying when it was the only thing they wrote about women when at the same time they asked men about the secrets to their success or what they would recommend young businesspeople to boost their own businesses.

Photoshoots like that always drained her and she couldn’t quite comprehend what could be so interesting about her showing off dresses she would never wear again. She had a great body, so what? So had countless other women. It wasn’t even an achievement, just lucky genetics. That was what she disliked the most, wasn’t it? Everyone cared for her beauty and her seemingly perfect body, but nobody really acknowledged her brains. Lucy was smart. She loved to read, and she studied astronomy for fun alongside physics and chemistry, which she needed to take over the company one day. Many of her teachers had said that her intelligence was way above the average, and she quite prided herself in that. It bothered her that all those magazines and talk shows only cared about her looks and whether she had already found a husband or not. She wasn’t even looking for a husband, and would much rather spend another few years realizing herself, but she was well aware of her role as an idol. And she didn’t like the fact that all those young girls only ever got to see her beauty, but never once heard a word of her intelligence. She would love to show them how important it was to cultivate one’s intellect or to care about one’s grades rather than their looks.

“Miss Lucy, are you ready to leave?” The driver asked politely, shaking Lucy out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized that she was already standing by the edge of the street, in front of the car door he held open for her. She nodded and gave him a small smile, before she entered.

Once the car started, she decided to check her phone, feeling a little lighter at the sight of the messages her friends had sent during her shooting in their group chat Fairy Tail. She didn’t even remember how they had found such a strange name, but she didn’t really mind. It sounded funny, and thoughtless, and so unlike everything else in her life.

 Levy: sent a picture

Levy: Hey Ladies, what do you think of that? It’s a party thrown by Sting Eucliffe, this super-hot singer I was telling you about. It’s this weekend, and the perfect opportunity for a girl’s night out.

 Upon further inspection the picture Levy had sent was, in fact, a flyer, held in silver, blue and purple tones and with a picture of Sting Eucliffe himself up front, showing a wide smile and finger guns. On it there were written his name, the date, and the location.

 Juvia: Yes! I’d love to come! I even heard he’s single!

Erza: Isn’t that that blonde twink who only recently left Sabertooth to become a solo artist? What a snob.

Levy: Yes, exactly. Except, he’s not a twink, Erza! He sings really good, and not even you can deny that he’s good-looking.

Juvia: He has a voice like an angel, you uncultured strawberry!

 Lucy let out a chuckle before replying. The bickering of her friends always eased her tight nerves a bit.

 Lucy: I’d love to come, but I’m afraid my father won’t let me… He doesn’t like such events.

Erza: Then we’ll sneak you out, like we did before.

Levy: Of course! We can’t go without you, Lu!

Juvia: And we’ll dress you up again, so that nobody recognizes you. You still got the wig, don’t you?

Lucy: Of course I still got the wig, you guys gifted it to me. I would never throw that away!

Levy: Naww, you’re so cute!

Lucy: But do you think that will be enough to hide me from the paparazzi?

Erza: Of course, and if anything happens, we will cover for you to run away.

Juvia: Yes!

Lucy: Thanks, guys! This means the world to me!

 Smiling, she put her phone away. They were already driving up the lane that led to her estate.

When the car halted, a maid was already there to open the car door for Lucy, and she gave her a gratuitous smile, before climbing up the steps to where another maid, Leto, was waiting.

“Welcome home, Miss Lucy. How was your photoshoot?” She smiled politely and made a small bow.

“I’m glad to see you too, Leto. The photoshoot was alright, I guess. The photographer was very enthusiastic.” Lucy answered with just the same polite smile, though it seemed a little tired.

“Aren’t they always?” Leto said warmly, and Lucy nodded in agreement. They were, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her name or if they acted like this around any kind of celebrity.

“Seems so.”

“Mr Heartfilia is in his study. He wanted you to join him there as soon as you came back from your photoshoot.”

“Did he say why?” Lucy sighed, mentally already preparing for the uncomfortable encounter. It was almost noon, and all she wanted was to get back to her studies and maybe eat a bite. She had a big project coming up and didn’t want to waste any more time by doing pointless stuff like being photographed and complimented.

“I am afraid not, Miss Lucy, but he does have guests.” Leto answered as she led her up the stairs, feeling sorry for the girl. She knew her all too well, knowing how busy her life was and how little room she had for herself.

“Guests? Anyone I know?” This caught Lucy’s attention. Guests at the estate were rather unusual, and when there were any, she never got to meet them on purpose. She had once accidentally encountered a business partner of her father, who was storming off due to some deal that hadn’t worked out the way he had wanted to. After his temper tantrum Jude decided to hold meetings of that kind in the company rather than at his own home.

“I don’t think so, Miss. They arrived right after you left, and have been exploring the house since, but I don’t recall having seen them around here before.” Leto explained and made a small bow when they arrived at the doors to Jude Heartfilia’s study. Lucy took a deep breath and knocked, wondering about why her father’s guests would roam around the house. Did he hire a new team of bodyguards?

“Yes?” Jude’s voice sounded, and she entered.

The study was big, with high ceilings and made of dark wood. It was full of bookshelves and diplomas hanging on the walls. In the middle, right in front of a giant window, was Jude Heartfilia’s heavy wooden desk, and behind it, in a big leather chair, sat the man himself. He wore a dark brown suit, his blond hair, that was just a little darker than Lucy’s, combed back meticulously, and his piercing gaze directed right at her. It made her feel immediately uncomfortable, since usually he barely looked up from his work when he requested to talk to her. But today everything seemed to be different.

“Ah, Lucy. You’re back.” He stated and Lucy nodded, averting her eyes.

“Yes, father.”

Only then did she see the woman sitting in one of the heavy chairs across from Jude. She had big blue eyes and gorgeous white locks, which she had bound up in a high ponytail. They must be dyed, Lucy thought to herself, because the woman could only be a few years older than her. She gave Lucy a welcoming smile as she took in her black turtleneck and suit. As far as Lucy could see, she wore a skirt that fitted the blazer rather than pants.

A little farther, half hidden in the shadows of the bookshelves, Lucy spotted a man, wearing a black long-sleeved sweater and dark grey cargo pants. He had his arms crossed behind his back, and apart from his salmon-coloured hair Lucy couldn’t recognise anything about his face.

“This is Miss Mirajane Strauss, head of Strauss and Co.” Jude introduced the white-haired woman who in turn stood up and held her hand out for Lucy to shake. Frowning, she took it and realized that the woman would be visibly higher than her even without her heels.

“Strauss and Co. as in the security agency?”

“Exactly. I feel flattered that you have heard of us already.”

“Only bits. I have heard you’re supposed to be the best.” Lucy smiled, meaning her words as a challenge. When she could get rid of those who claimed to be the best, her father would be out of options.

Mirajane returned a smile so sickly sweet that Lucy knew she had understood the meaning of her words exactly but didn’t take it as an insult. That was interesting. “That is what people say, though I would not be so audacious as to say so myself. I like to let my records speak and my clients decide.”

“I have hired Miss Strauss and her people because of certain threats I have been receiving lately, and since I will be gone more often for business trips in the near future.” Jude explained and watched Mirajane stand by the side of his desk.

“Death threats?” Lucy questioned, not quite comprehending the reason for the sudden situation just yet. But death threats were nothing unusual among their circles, so what could have been so bad that he hired someone like Mirajane Strauss?

“Among other things, yes. In order to not restrict your freedom, they will accompany you every time you leave the estate and will guard the estate itself at all times, too.” In order not to restrict your freedom, Lucy could have barked out a laugh. Jude did not care for her freedom, he cared for her publicity meetings, for photoshoots and interviews. If it was just about her freedom or even her studies, he would gladly keep her at home with the best teachers he could find.

“I understand.” Lucy nodded, and so did Jude. She was dismissed and went to her own study in order to begin with her studies, and to start making plans on how to get rid of her new babysitters once again.

  Lucy: Guess who just got a new set of bodyguards.

 +++

 Natsu knew the girl was special the moment she entered her father’s study. The way she carried herself, the way she smiled and talked. She hated the idea of bodyguards, and if it hadn’t been obvious from how stiff she had become the moment she realized who Mirajane was, he would have known at least by her files. Or the deadly smile she had sent her boss. A challenge, no doubt.

Lucy Heartfilia had a track record of getting rid of both bodyguards and suitors within only a few weeks. It seemed that her game had even levelled up over time. Be it her scaring them away by being bratty and insufferable, or simply by proving them not fit for the job of protecting her by sneaking out in the middle of the night and getting photographed by some paparazzi, she had gotten rid of them all. That’s why Jude Heartfilia had contacted Mirajane, whose agency was said to be the best. Especially after the death threats and the failed attempt to break into the estate, which he probably hadn’t told his daughter about, he just needed to be sure that the heir to his company was in safe hands.

“My daughter is to be guarded at all times, do you understand, Miss Strauss?” His deep voice cut the silence, and Natsu turned his gaze from the door to the man. Mirajane nodded, gifting him her sweetest smile. It was part of her work concept, to be sweet and seem innocent. In reality she was the most dangerous person Natsu had ever encountered, and they both had been high tiers in the military before taking on their job as bodyguards. She believed that potential threats would underestimate her for her good looks and sugary words and make the mistake of coming forward, which gave her the opportunity to not only keep them far from her protégés, but also eliminate the threat emanating from them one way or another, constantly. And so far, her tactic had always worked, without exception. Dangerous men seemed to just love to underestimate kind women.

“Do not worry, Mr Heartfilia. You made the right choice to entrust Miss Lucy to us.”

“Well, well. I guess time will tell if your words are as honourable as they sound. You can go catch up with the rest of your team now.” He dismissed them and Mirajane stood up, made a polite bow, and motioned for Natsu to follow her. While Lucy’s words had been a challenge, his were a warning. If they couldn’t deliver the way he wished, he would get rid of them immediately.

Once the door fell shut behind them, the white-haired woman let out a sigh. “So, what’s your impression?” She asked, and Natsu started walking down the hallway. While Mirajane had been signing legal documents alongside Mr Heartfilia, he had taken a quick look around the house, so that he would be able to know his way around once the job actually started. He knew exactly where Mirajane wanted to go to next.

“Of the girl or her father?” He asked.

“Tell me both.”

“He seems to care for her safety, obviously, but not the way a loving father would. He cares the way an owner of some precious artifact would, and she knows. Their relationship is awful, to say the least, and believing the research I did it’s not even surprising. She hates how planned out her life is, and even more than that she hates bodyguards.” He stated and watched as Mirajane chuckled softly.

“Oh, that seems about accurate. You remember what we talked about the other day?”

“About how I’m to act around her?”

“Yeah. Be careful. I have a feeling that she will make it harder on you than the others.”

Now it was Natsu’s turn to sigh. Yes, she probably would. But he wasn’t Natsu if he would let that get in his way.

Stopping in front of the girl’s study, he raised his hand to knock, waiting for her soft voice to call them in.

Lucy Heartfilia’s study was very different from her father’s. It was packed with books, too, but where his seemed to be a bunch of classics that were bought solely for the purpose of making him look wealthy and intelligent, hers seemed to be personal. There were novels, and books about all kinds of scientific ranges or biographies about scientists and activists, and a whole shelf was packed with just what must be her old schoolbooks. Her desk was of lighter wood and an almost white colour, but even larger in space than his, and there were pens and markers of all colours neatly organized on it, right next to a big computer screen. In front of the chimney on the side wall there was a small coffee table, surrounded by armchairs and a small couch. On the table there was a staple of novels. The room seemed cosy, and personal.

“Oh, Miss Mirajane. I wasn’t expecting you to come and see me.” Lucy smiled confusedly and stood up from the chair behind her desk, starting to walk around it. Natsu couldn’t help but let his gaze roam her body again. It was gorgeous, to say the least. She had all the right curves in all the right places, wasn’t too tall either and seemed quite delicate. Her beautiful blonde locks framed her pretty face, and he could see that she wore only little makeup to accentuate her natural beauty. The girl was absolutely stunning.

Mirajane giggled. “Please, call me Mira. You don’t have to be so formal around me. I’m here because I wanted to talk some things through with you personally and thought that you might feel better if your father wasn’t present.”

This seemed to make the girl insecure, and she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Sure. Would you like to take a seat?” She motioned for the armchairs in front of the chimney and Mirajane nodded. Once they were sat down opposite each other, Natsu went to stand behind his boss. Lucy gave him a polite smile, which he returned.

“To not beat about the bush, I’m sure you already noticed Natsu.” Mirajane introduced him and he nodded when she glanced up to him.

“He is my best man, and while my whole team will constantly care about the safety of you and your family, he will be your personal bodyguard. He will accompany you to university and to all kinds of other events. I’m afraid he will even be there when you just meet friends, as your father requested.” To Natsu it was obvious that Lucy hated every word coming out of her mouth, and yet she kept up a perfect smile. She didn’t blame Mira, he realized, even though she would make her job as hard as possible.

“What I wanted to ask you was, do you have a boyfriend, Miss Lucy?” Mirajane continued, earning a confused look from Lucy. For a moment, she didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Why is that relevant?”

“Because of the current situation, it would be an advantage if it wasn’t too obvious that Natsu is your bodyguard. Since he will be around you every time you leave the estate, a practical tactic would be for him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Only if you are comfortable with that, of course.” She quickly added, but Lucy didn’t seem entirely convinced yet. “You would not have to do anything you don’t like, just introduce him as such. If you do not want to go with this possibility, we can arrange some other cover story, of course. Our job is to take care about your safety while keeping you as comfortable as possible, so please don’t hold back with criticism.”

Lucy stayed awfully quiet for some minutes, thinking it all through. Eventually she nodded, giving Mirajane a smile that seemed a lot more honest and also mischievous than all the smiles she had put up before. Natsu swallowed hard at the wicked gleam in her angelic brown eyes. “If this is the best possibility, then I should not be the one to turn it down.”

“Great. I will leave you two to talk everything through then and check up on the rest of the team. I wish you a nice afternoon, Miss Lucy.” Mirajane stood up and bowed, before leaving the room in calm strides. When the door clicked shut behind her, Natsu turned his gaze towards Lucy.

“Will it be possible to tell the truth to my closest friends?”

“I’m afraid that I might have to advise against it.” Upon hearing his voice for thew first time, Lucy gave him an odd look.

“Just advise? Then I will tell them.“ She said, such finality in her voice that he knew, no matter what he would say would not find any soil to grow on.

“Is there anything else you would like to talk through or ask?” She questioned and stood up.

“No, Miss. I will remain here in the study with you, though.” She nodded before turning around and returning to her studies. Natsu decided to roam through her bookshelves in the meantime.

 He was currently studying an entire shelf full of astronomy books, wondering how someone could ever read something like that without banging their head against a wall, when Lucy cleared her throat behind him. Startled, he turned around, only to find her standing only centimetres beside him. How had she gotten there so quietly?

“Do you like astronomy, Natsu?” She purred, staring right up at him with her big brown doe eyes. He tried not to let it show how much impact they had on him.

He shook his head. “Can’t say I do, Miss. If anything, I’m more of psychology guy.”

“Psychology, huh?” She responded, inching closer. “Call me Lucy, will you?”

“If you wish me to.” He swallowed. What reaction was she trying to get out of him?

“I do. I’ve had psychology classes for some years myself. Loved them, though I had no time for them anymore upon entering university.” She murmured, curious eyes roaming over his chest muscles and biceps before she raised them to stare right back into his. “Have you ever been to university, Natsu?”

“I’m afraid not. After finishing high school, I went straight to the military.”  He responded, not sure as to why he was even telling her. He usually didn’t talk about his personal life to his clients.

“The military? So, you really are a tough guy…” Lucy stated, laying a hand on his arm. Only then Natsu realised that she was purposefully manipulating him, bringing him out of the concept. He shook her arm off and hardened his gaze.

“Yes, I am. May I help you with anything, Miss Lucy?”

Looking up at him, and seeing the change in his expression, Lucy smirked. The game had begun.

“Please, call me Lucy.” She repeated and turned away, walking back to her desk. With furrowed brows Natsu stared at her retreating figure, swearing that her skirt was higher up than it had been in her father’s study.

She wanted to play games, huh? Good thing he was a player then.

Hey Sweethearts, it’s me. I’m writing this fanfiction because, obviously, I love Fairy Tail, but also because I am not a native english speaker and I want to up my english game. I would really appreciate some feedback!

Have a lovely Day, your Duchess

[the-ipre]

OH also, “You’ve changed.” for cres and thyl?

Thyl never thought he would leave Glee Anselm. He left home, of course, grew up and got a job in the Silicon Trench, went on a number of mediocre dates that never went anywhere, did the whole Boring Adult Thing, and it was great. No life changing destiny, sure, but it was his life.

Seeing Ha’da – Cres, now, rockstar and hero of the galaxy – sitting across from him on the transport, Thyl is unavoidably hit by the realization it might not have been his only choice.

Cres is becoming more and more animated the further the shuttle pulls from the waves he spent his entire life under, hands flying and tentacles thrashing like she’s never even heard of decorum. They’re talking about the Defiance, calls them her family like it’s that easy, like there’s no complex web of attachments and expectations binding the word. Marlo and Nova and Dash, somehow becoming the most important people in the galaxy in the last fourteen years. 

Thyl knew he was never the most important. Never the most vibrant, never the most clever, never the most funny. The only consolation in growing up with Ha’da was that he was never the least, either.

Now, there’s no other word to describe them but brilliant. Cres is grinning, so settled in her own skin despite the looks from other passengers. Ha’da would have quailed under their glares, would have tangled her tentacles together and tried to take up the appropriate amount of space, even if that was nothing. 

Cres is practically blasting how much she loves her new family, pheromones thick in the air even out of water. Sitting there under the shitty fluorescent lights, they look like they’re finally alive. 

Thyl picks at a nail, tries not to focus on how strange it is to feel air flooding his lungs. 

“And, I know you’re a twink, but you’d better not let Marlo snag you-”

“You’ve changed.” Thyl’s voice is quiet, but it still stops Cres in their tracks, one of the first thing’s that he’s said this entire trip.

“You haven’t,” Cres shoots back, a joke at first. Thyl can taste their realization that it’s true, always too loud with her emotions. The bitterness of an offhanded quip landing too close to home, undercutting the easy love that Cres had been building. 

Thyl sighs, taps a foot against the dirty transport floor. “I guess not, huh? Not a lot of opportunity for change back home. Gotta get out to really build character, or whatever.”

“I mean- hey, everybody’s gotta start somewhere.” Cres knocks their shoulder into Thyl’s, straightens like they’re something more than themself. “Baby’s first trip out to the real world. Big moment!”

“You’re mocking me,” Thyl says, rubs at his shoulder half-heartedly. “Besides, I’m your big brother-”

Cres laughs, throws her head back at that and cackles like there’s no one else in the world. “Uh, maybe in technicality, but you’ve lost all rights to that title. I’m the cool sibling now! Can’t try to big brother your way out of that one!”

“Look, I didn’t have to come with you, I was plenty cool back home.” Thyl knows he’s being petulant, lets himself lean into it, always weaseling his way into being appreciated, if only out of guilt. He’s perfected the skill. He doesn’t know if that’s something to be proud of or not.

“Well, I don’t believe that, because you’re a nerd, but...hey, lemme just-” Cres scrabbles for their comm, attaches a beat up pair of earbuds – she’s a rockstar, shouldn’t she have better tech? – and hands one over to Thyl. He takes it, looks at it with a squint because he’s half sure it will electrocute him. “Put it in, don’t be a coward- also don’t make a joke off of that, I know you want to, but don’t, I’m being serious Cres right now.”

Thyl rolls his eyes but he can taste it, can sense the genuine hope bubbling around them both. “Fine. If this is a prank, though, I’m catching the next shuttle back home.”

“I’m sure you will,” Cres says, rolling her eyes right back, and it’s almost familiar. “Just...look out the window. Listen to the music.”

Despite himself, Thyl does. Drumbeats like a pulse echo in his ears as he watches the waves, warped through the dusty glass. His reflection looks back as he puts a hand up almost without thinking, the piano and vocals kicking in like he’s a part of something.

He can feel it in his chest, pounding, even though it’s just playing through a single earbud that fuzzes when the song gets too loud. The only home he’s ever known is shrinking away below him, and for once, Thyl lets himself feel excited.

He keeps wanting to pause, to say something, but the music holds him in a trance with a grin he doesn’t even recognize until it fades out with a beating pulse he wants to chase. The air is suddenly still, quiet, Cres plucking away the earbud and winding it back up.

“Was that...” Thyl clears his throat. “Was that..you? The Defiance?”

Cres grins, sharp and alive. It’s an expression that never would have fit on Ha’da, but it suits their face perfectly. “Force, I wish. Nah, it’s the song that I listened to when I left the first time. It gets it, right?” There’s a whiff of nerves on the air, the fear of sharing something vulnerable and close, but Cres keeps looking to Thyl unflinching. 

He can almost picture Ha’da, eighteen, a single bag slung over her shoulder as she takes the midnight shuttle off planet, alone no matter who else shares the transport. Nervous tics as always, mufflers on her tentacles, playing this song like it will be enough to keep her nerve, to keep her from turning back. Somehow, it is.

He breaks eye contact, looks back out to the waves with Don’t turn your back on the city echoing in his ears. It’s terrifying in its exhilaration, exhilarating in its terror, just how much he wants this.

Thyl knows that no one ever leaves Glee Anselm, no one makes it out, everyone comes crawling back eventually. 

Cres sitting in front of him, pierced and tattooed and somehow standing even taller for the lost leg, makes him want to believe that isn’t true. 

“Yeah. It gets it.”

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 27

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2990

Warnings: Being naked, sex talk

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note:  Written with my very sleepy daughter @fanficwriter013​

Chapter 27: Friends and Loved Ones

The following week and a half passed with little incident.  Since the Fenestare things had settled a lot.  The threat of some sibling taking the crown seemed to pass by forgotten completely and everyone had just fallen in line with Thor’s leadership.  For most of us, it had become like the vacation none of us had ever taken.  We were relaxed and enjoying the planet and each other.  Tony had made his little bots that followed us around but aside from the fact I would need mine to tell me where I was, no one ever used it.

It was only really Thor that was kept busy and he was kept very busy.  Between the Bonding and training Riley and running Asgard he was out from early in the morning until late at night when he would come back exhausted.  We had started talking about one or two of us staying with him on Asgard at a time but we didn’t know how to organize that system.  There was already so much time that got taken from us as a family, to add weeks on Asgard to that too meant that we’d always be in a state of flux.  Not to mention deciding who would stay.

Being in a long-distance relationship with a king wasn’t easy.

The day we had set to have our joint bachelor party I woke up engulfed in Bucky and Steve’s arms.  I stretched like a cat and they didn’t stir at all.  It had only taken a week for them to completely enter a relaxed holiday mode.  It was probably a little concerning, but I was still impressed.  It was nice seeing them like that.

When I opened my eyes that wasn’t the only thing I saw though.  Phil Coulson was standing near the bed looking at us.

“Phil!”  I yelped covering myself with a sheet.

Bucky and Steve both sat bolt upright and looked around startled and on alert.  “Phil?”  Steve said confused.

“What the hell?”  Bucky added a little angrier sounding.

“Sorry!”  Phil said raising his hands in surrender.  “I was told you were in here, so I came to see and you were sleep and… I’m sorry.”

“Does that mean everyone is here?”  I asked.

“Yeah, we arrived this morning,” Phil answered.  “You’re getting married?”

“Bonding,” Steve said.  “But essentially.  Now if you don’t mind…”

“Right.  I’ll go back to the others.”  Phil said apologetically, retreating from the room.

When the door closed I leaned my forehead on Bucky’s shoulder.  “I think I just aged 5 years.”

Steve chuckled softly and kissed my neck.  “Well, in good news, you’re about to get 4,900 extra years.  So you can afford them.”

I turned and kissed him gently.  “Two days.”

He made a soft sound and his hand flexed on my hip.

“Okay,”  I said pulling back.  “I’m gonna get dressed and go say hello.”

“That’s a good idea,” Bucky said stretching.

I dressed and headed out into the living room.  It was at capacity, with almost everyone else up and eating as well as our friends, some of the Dora Milaje and even Carol Danvers who we saw once in a blue moon.

“Gurl!”  Clark said, jumping to her feet, her violet eyes twinking.  “We gonna hafta talk. This is fucking Asgard!”

“Right?”  I said coming over and hugging her.

“Everyone is so pretty.  How are they all so pretty?”  She asked as she pulled back from me.

“They’re gods?”  I said.  “But it’s much more open here if you and Jax want to get busy.”

“Mmm… we’ve already decided on a competition.  I’ve got my eyes on a few people.”  She teased.  “So come on, explain to me what’s going on.”

I came and sat next to her and Jax and ran through the whole series of events from the day Riley’s powers come in, coming here, being attacked and the bonding ceremony.  Around me, a similar conversation was had by small groups of the others in the room.

“You sure you want this?”  Jax said.  “We always spoke about what your parents wanted for you…”

“Yes, what they wanted for me was marry rich have kids.  Which I guess I am doing, but I don’t think they envisioned this.  There are things that scare me, and I’m sure you’re going to have your work cut out for you when I get back.  Living for 5000 years is scary.  But...”  I said.  “I’m so happy.”

“Well, then I’m happy for you.”  He said.

“Sweetie, you’re not at work now,” Clarke said in a playfully patronizing tone, letting Jax know to stop analyzing things.  He held up his hands in surrender and she turned back to me.  “So bachelorette?”

“It’s a group thing because we don’t really have a lot of people otherwise,” I said.

“Alcohol?  Strippers?”  She asked.

“Yes to both.  But go easy on the mead.”  I said.  “I had to take Sam to the healers.”

“Yikes.  Okay.  I’ll try and remember that.”  She said.  “I’m excited to try the food.”

“Well, it should be here soon.  I’m sure there will be enough for everyone.”  I said.

“Oh, nice.  I bet it’s super weird and decadent.”  She sat up straight all of a sudden and looked around the room.  “Wait, where are my kiddos?”

“Asleep I guess.  They sleep like the dead here.  I think it’s the air.”  I said.  “Do you want to go get them.”

She raised an eyebrow at me.  “Of course.”

“Before you do,”  Loki said, appearing behind me and making me jump.

“Jesus, Loki!”  I gasped holding my chest.  “How many times can you do that and find it funny?”

“Every time, Elise,”  She snarked.  “There is a tight schedule today.  You have about an hour and a half for breakfast and to … socialize.  Then final fittings for your garments.  Then there will be initial preparations for Henhalda.  That’s the body painting.  You will be bathed and then your artists will do the outlines on your arms and legs.  You will have lunch during that time because it will take you until dinner and then this party of yours tonight.”

“Thank you, sister.”  I teased.

“Do not make me break the truce and stab you, Elise.”  She snarked.

“Fine.  No, that’s all good.  I’ll go and get the kids then?”  I said.  “Will you be taking care of them?”

“Myself and the Lady Sif shall take turns.  I assure you they will be fine.”  She said.

I nodded and got up and headed into the kids’ rooms with Clarke trailing behind me.  As we came into the room we found Riley already climbing out of the bed.  She squealed and ran over to Clarke.  “Aunnie Cwarke!”

“Hi, baby!”  Clarke said scooping her up.  “Tell me all about Asgard.”

I went over to Pietro and start to rub his back to wake him.

“Umm… dey calls me a pwincess.”  Riley said, thinking hard.  “And uhh… daddy’s been teaching me to do da wind.”

“And are you getting good at controlling the wind?”  Clarke asked.

She nodded vigorously as Pietro groaned and sat up.  “Aunnie Cwarke?”  He said in a sleepy voice.

“Hey, baby,” Clarke said gently.

“You came to Asgawd?”  He asked.

“Yeah, buddy.  Lots of people are here.  Uncle Phil and Auntie Maria.  Uncle Scott.  Uncle Rhodey.  Uncle Jax.”  I said and he started bouncing on his bed.

“Come on, kiddo,”  Clarke said.  “Come out and see everyone.”

Pietro ran out and stopped dead looking at the room full of all the people he loved best.  The food had arrived and Riley pointed at Magnus.  Meanwhile, Pietro had started dancing on the spot like he didn’t know where to go first.  Wanda looked around at him and smiled.  “Hey, little one.  How are you doing?”

“Good, daj,” he said, happily.  “Deys all here.”

“Are you happier now that family is all here?”  Wanda asked.

“Dis Cwistmas?”  Pietro asked.

Wanda squeaked and her hand went to her mouth.  “El.  El!  That was adorable!”

“Not quite Christmas, kiddo,” I said ruffling his hair.  “How about you go say hello to everyone though.”

He ran over to Rhodey first and gave him a huge hug.  I went and got a plate of breakfast for me and the kids and sat.  The room was completely alive with talk and excitement.  It was good.  Everything felt like it was falling into place.  There were just a few more pieces to go.

My final fitting was done under the supervision of Loki, who was very particular about where things still needed to be taken in or up.  She’d hiss things in Asgardian to the tailors and then swept out of the room to do the same with the next person.  It looked beautiful though.  Everything I never imagined a wedding dress could be.  Not that it was a wedding really, but there was no way that whatever dress I chose to wear when I married Tony would be able to match the way this shimmered in the light and looked like it contained magic itself in it.  I decided then and there, whatever Tony and I did would be small, and more casual.  A little celebration just to make what we were doing here as a group, as legally recognized as we’d be able to back on Earth.

When I was done and back into my regular clothes I came out to the living room.  A moment later a group of people of varying ages came in and they were directed by Loki to each of our bedrooms.  She turned back to face us.

“Now is Henhalda.  You will need to follow the directions of your artists.  They may ask you to stand, lie down, sit.  Or they might be happy for you to decide.  Each artist has been chosen to deal with you specifically.  Whether you need a firm hand, someone to work in silence, a reassuring presence, a gentle touch, or someone who is less attached to rank and tradition.”  Loki said looking from Clint, Natasha, Wanda, Bruce and I in turn.  “They have briefed about who you each are and who they are working with specifically so they understand what reservations you might each have.  Particularly when it comes to the nudity required for Henhalda.  Those fine with nudity will most likely be asked to strip off right away so that the artwork can be carried out from the inside out.  Those that need time to become comfortable will have their arms and legs worked on first.

“Voice your reservations so they can put them at ease.  But this must be done apart from each other.  You may take a friend with you but it can not be one you are to bond with.”

Steve looked a little uncomfortable but gave a small nod, while Bruce looked from Loki to me with panic in his eyes.  “I don’t think I can do this, El.”

I moved over to him and caressed his jaw.  “Yes, you can,” I said firmly.  “The big guy knows how important this is.  You just have to get out of your own head.”

“I can come with you if you like,” Jax offered.  “Go through your relaxation techniques.”

Bruce nodded a little.  “If you’re sure.”

“I’d be honored,” Jax assured him.

“Bruce, if you really can’t handle it, let Hulk out.  Just… let him out before he takes over on his own.   You know that he’s always calmer when you do that, and I think he’d quite enjoy being painted on.  Besides, it will let him be a real part of this.”

Bruce winced and gave a nod.  “El,” he whispered.  “I might need a buffer for the party.  I mean, after this.”

I leaned in and kissed his cheek gently.  “Of course, honey.  You’ve got me.”

We separated into pairs.  Coulson went with Clint.  Hill with Natasha.  Jax went with Bruce, Wanda with Vision.  Scott got super lucky when Steve agreed to let him go with him.  Bucky had the honor of T’Challa agreeing to go with him.  Sam took Rhodey with him after Tony agreed to share his best friend and took Happy with him instead, and Thor took Sif.  Clarke was coming with me and everyone else was going to either see the sights of Asgard or take turns looking after the twins.

I went into my bedroom to find a young woman, who looked around 18 in Earth years but could have been any age really, set up with a table, brushes, and inks.

“Where would you like me?”  I asked.

“Where ever you feel comfortable.”  The girl replied.  “We’ll be here for a while so I’d suggest lying but I can work however you like.”

“Do you want me naked right away?”  I asked her.

She nodded.  “If you’re comfortable doing that.  You can go face down first too if that helps.”

“Alright,” I said taking off my clothes.  “It’s okay to tell me what to do, you know?  I don’t want to make this difficult for you.”

“So, it is true what they say.”  She said as I lay down on the bed face down and Clarke went to my wardrobe and began looking through it.

“What’s that?”  I asked.

“That you are like us,” she said.  “You don’t see yourself as Royalty.  Or better than us.”

I chuckled.  “Yeah, well I don’t think I’m better than you, that’s for sure.”

“Some of the elders don’t understand.”  She said.  “I like it though.  It’s nice.”

She began to wash my back down with a warm cloth that smelled like roses and Clarke came back and sat down beside me, leaning on the bedhead.  “I’m gonna steal some of your clothes.”

“Go for it,” I said as the girl began to trace a pattern out on my back with her finger.

“Awesome.  Gonna look like a princess at your party.”  Clarke said.  “What’re you doing there?”

“Oh, I uh - I’ve never done a Henhalda before.  I just want to get a picture of it in my head before I start.”  She said.  She kneeled on the bed beside me and pulled her little table over closer and began to paint.

The ink was cool on my skin and she was painting such fine intricate lines that it put me into an almost trance-like state of relaxation, my skin tingling.

“You should see this, blue,” Clarke said.  “This girl is crazy talented.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Will the others be the same?  Or is this unique per person?”  I asked.

“Some of it will be identical.  It’s supposed to represent your lives together.  And some of that is shared.  Some is individual.”  She explained.

I hummed.  “I can’t wait to see everyone’s.”

“And of course the private paintings meant only for each other.”  She said.

“What will they be?”  I asked.

“You will have symbolic images, representing your lovers, painted in your most intimate places.”  She said.

“Oh wow.  That’s going to be so fun to explore with each other.”  I said.  “What will the one that represents me look like?  Do you know?”

“It is a flower made of blue flame, that’s roots run out and join with the other’s symbols and one to the heart of each person it is painted on.  Worked into the flower is the rune Gebo.”

“What does Gebo mean?” I asked.

“It means, gifts and relationships.  Sacrifice and exchange.”  She said.

I liked that and wondered if the others had runes in their symbols too and if they did what they stood for.  “Who designed them.”

“We did as a team using psychics who mapped out your futures.”  She answered.   She moved down to my legs and then seemed to change her mind and came back up to my shoulders.  “Sorry, the way I paint is more unconventional.  This is why they assigned me to you.  The others are more stuffy.”

I chuckled.  “Oh no.  I’m the difficult one.”

“Just untraditional.  But I am the youngest.  So I don’t care for tradition.”  She said.  “I like working with you.  I think we could be friends.”

“That would be nice.  I could always use more friends.”  I said.  “What’s your name?”

She almost squeaked in excitement.  “Katveil.  Can I call you Elise?”

“Or Elly.  My friends call me Elly.”  I said.

“I don’t.  I call her blue.”  Clarke said.

“Why do you call her that?”  Katveil asked.

“I don’t know.  She’s just … blue.”  Clarke said.

“What is your name?”  Katveil asked.

“Clarke,”  Clarke said giving Katveil a nod.  “Here to share in naked time.”

Katveil started laughing.  “It is a little odd, even for here.”

“Feels nice though.  Soothing.  I could probably fall to sleep.”  I said.

“You are welcome to if the urge comes.  Go with your feelings.”  Katveil said.

We stayed talking until lunch where I ate lying on my stomach while the ink dried on my back.  When Katveil was satisfied with the ink being dry enough she had me roll over and started painting my front.  I watched her for a while as the design got smaller and more intricate and eventually I did doze off and was awoken abruptly by Katveil shaking me.

“You’re finished.”  She said when my eyes snapped open.  “I have not painted the special symbols yet.  They are to wait until tomorrow.”

I looked down at myself.  I looked like I’d become one giant mandala.  “Holy shit.”  I gasped.

Katveil smiled.  “Just wait until it’s colored.  You won’t believe your eyes.”

“I’m really excited,” I said.

Katveil gave a little bow.  “I shall see you tomorrow.  Enjoy your party, Elly.”

“Thank you, Katveil.  I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said.

“Please, call me Kat.”  She said.

“Kat is is.”  I agreed.

Katveil left the room and Clarke shoved me.  “Come on, lady.”  She said.  “We gotsta get ready.  It’s time to party.”

 // NEXT

[berrymeter]

hi everyone this is my first fic be nice to me <3

in which y/n gets to bully mark tuan for free - somewhere over 1k words

It’s getting a little late, isn’t it ? You check your watch— just kidding, you don’t have one. What year is it, 2006 ? Don’t make me laugh. Rather than a clock bracelet conveniently placed around your wrist you lower your eyes to the bottom right corner of your laptop to confirm your suspicions… Ah, yes, the passage of time. You spent the entire damn afternoon scrolling through social media like some kind of zoomer-millennial-loser, again. (Chances are you’re one.) Still that doesn’t negate the fact that it is assuredly late now ; shouldn’t that passive aggressive twink-passing dude be back by now ?

Okay, it’s not that late. Just about time for dinner, the good ol’ almost-nine in the evening. Realistically you shouldn’t be complaining, you never actually have dinner with your problematic roommate nor do you eat dinner at an appropriate time yourself, but you open your notes app nonetheless and add another bullet point to your list: “Things I Get To Throw In His Face When We Have An Argument”. Build up your arsenal and release it all when the time is right, that’ll show him. An exaggerated sigh escapes your lips. Is it so hard to be punctual, after all ? He told you he’d be back by eight ! You’d planned to watch a movie together ! Not that it ever amounted to anything since an argument always broke out mid-film, but plans were nice every once in a while. You bite your bottom lip in annoyance, zoning out for a brief few seconds ( minutes ? Are you aware of time ? I’m not) as your eyes lose focus over the screen emitting all that nasty blue light, before deciding to just brush it off – at the very least, until he gets there. Once the door opens, it’s on. Some more scrolling and it gets you thinking, since your brain doesn’t have much better to do while he’s not here to get his ass jumped by you. You think. You think about how you referred to him as a “twink-passing” dude just a few paragraphs earlier. (You are currently in the mind of the narrator. I get to be y/n.) Why so ? Well, very simply, a twink would refer to a man who engages in romantic relationships with other men, or would at least be willing to. You’re unsure whether he would consider it. He sure looks like you could snap him like a twig though, so you call him a twink anyway. What’s he going to do ? Punch your kneecaps ? (Even if you are short, I, the writer, am shorter than you. I am offering you the ability to be taller than Mark Tuan. Use it wisely.) You think a little further, and think of how ‘twink’ has been used so many times as a joke, like it’s a funny insult. Is it right ? Are we not taking the term seriously enough ? You drop that train of thought soon enough. It doesn’t matter: twinks should be bullied. What convinced you of this is that twink from that NCT group, the one with the monosyllabic name. You nod to yourself. Yes, twinks should undeniably be bullied. (Note that I am a twink too, it’s okay, relax, I’m not calling for twink oppression. I mean I kinda am actually tho.) Within a few more seconds, your eyelids start to slip shut. Ah… What was that about the zoomer-millennial-loser thing ? You know it’s not easy these days to be productive, to find things you enjoy when you’re not in the right headspace, and being in the right headspace is not easy itself either. Work is tiring. You need those bucks, though. You struggle to work and then on your day off you scroll through social media. It doesn’t actually make you a loser, does it ? That’s what the bitter older generations will try to feed you, but it’s all wrong. You’re just living. Yes, you are. I’m proud of you. You made it this far ! Keep scrolling. Maybe get off Twitter though, that’s not how you’re going to make yourself feel any better in any capacity, unless your thing is pissing off ARMYs and getting terminated within the hour… The door unlocks. Your mind snaps back in. Wow, gee, at least you managed to pass time ! And it’s… yikes, you probably dozed off too during that time, because it’s past ten. An offended frown graces your features as you turn to look at that little bastard, that short fucking stick, that— “ Wha ! ” You get hit in the face with a purse… Damn, gay ass, he’s carrying a purse around now ? Wait, hold on. Why the fuck— “ Why the fuck did you do that ? ” you exclaim as you throw the purse aside. The devil’s looking at you with that passive aggressive smile of his on his face. Sickening. “ I heard what you said about Virgo men the other day, ” he responds, his voice barely hiding the pent up anger, “ and that wasn’t really nice, (y/n). We actually shower, you know ? ” “ Yeah, well, you’re gonna need to prove that, bitch boy. ” He grabs his keys and throws them in your face. Ouch, hey ! “ Stop that ! I wasn’t even lying, I— " His hand goes through his pocket while you speak and this time his phone hits your head. It’s enough. Quickly you stand, pushing your laptop aside and throwing the phone right back in his face… but it’s too late. He’s seen it. Your laptop. He gets a flash from the past ; years ago, when he was just a young Virgo man navigating this cruel world, although the world was at his fingertips by virtue of being a FUCKING Virgo man (tells you a lot about why the world is cruel), back when he met that so, so young Taurus boy, and he grabbed his laptop… You notice his glare. Your eyes narrow, and before you can yell out “No” he’s leaping for your laptop, grabbing it and holding onto it tight as you try to pry it from his hands. “ Let it go or I’m calling Jaybee ! “ the words shoot right out of your mouth. “ You think I’m scared of that catboy ? He showers even less than me ! ” “ Did you just admit to not showering ? Fucking nasty ! Go shower, stinky ! ” He roars in response, but it’s really embarrassing because he’s not a lion in any way, shape or form. He is, fortunately, very much human. You move your foot to rest it on his back (picture it: he’s on his stomach, across the couch, holding onto your laptop. So it is possible for you to rest your foot on his back). You put a little pressure on it, and his back cracks a little ; he goes “Ouch, fuck !”, and releases his grip. Yes, good, the laptop is yours (you knew that but I mean it’s in your hands again, don’t be annoying). Once again you put it aside – he uses that time to straighten himself up a little – but you have no mercy. You rush to the fridge as he follows suit, grab the bottle of milk, open it and throw it in his face. “ Jesus Christ, dude ! ” he yells out, completely inconsiderate of whether or not you’d like to be addressed as such. Don’t forget: as hot as he may be, he is a Virgo man. He does not care about you. Stop loving him right now. “ Guess you’re gonna have to shower for real this time, ” you comment, the satisfaction of this battle you just won seeping through your words. “ Fucking loser, lmao. ” “ Fuck you, (y/n). ” “ You look stupid as hell right now. Boo! Take a shower, you and your crusty musty ass ! That’s what you get for making me wait two hours ! You can’t even find the beat though, I guess you couldn’t find where to read the time on your phone. ” The court jester known as Mark Tuan proceeds to exit the scene under these humiliating claims, wiping some of the milk off his face with his milk-drenched shirt. “ Ew, ” is what you have to say to that. “ I beg you to shut your mouth right now, ” he responds from the bathroom.

But you don’t shut up. You’ve got your list, after all. You come closer to the bathroom door and lean against it, opening your handy dandy notes app – it's actually a Drive file so you can open it both on your laptop and your phone, handy dandy ! – and beginning to go through it all. " You remember when we moved in together and you stubbed your toe ? You thought I wouldn't notice how you blamed me for stubbing your toe on YOUR table that I hadn't even touched, and just casually didn't do any chores the next week ? Or the time I asked you to not touch my food and you went and ate all of it without even thinking about it, the time you threw my phone away because you thought it was too old and cheap to still be used by someone... Or worst of all, the time you said Zuko wasn't a 'compelling' or 'well-written' character, and that you found the Joker much more relatable... " " Go away ! " He kind of sounds like a child, not as in cute but as in immature for a grown ass man, and next thing you hear is the sound of rushing water. He's actually showering ? Damn, guess all that bullying paid off at the end of the day ! You smile to yourself but in an evil way. “ What a fucking embarrassing manlet lol, “ you mutter to yourself. Your job here is done (for now). All is well in the world. You go sit back on the couch, grab your laptop again, and browse AO3 for self-insert fics where you help Jinyoung and Jaebum hide their relationship by being Jinyoung’s beard. No way you’d get that close to Jaebum even in the dreamscape ; Mark was kinda right about him not showering…

[bangtiddies]

Love at First Punch

Pairing: Seokjin x Yoongi Genre: Fluff, Strangers to Lovers AU Rating: PG13 Words: 920 Warnings: swearing, mentions of fighting, getting arrested, romantic cliches

Prompt: “It’s a prison cell.”

Note: unedited cause I’m a fool. Happy Valetine’s Day everyone!! Also this was a challenge that @taehyung-me-down​ @solarjeon​ and I set for Valentine’s Day, by choosing a terrible prompt and writing a fic around it without telling each other about it. It was very stressful because I also tried to extremely challenge myself by writing my first ever mxm fic. Special thanks to @joonsrack​ for reading a bit of it and helping me ❤️❤️ and also a big thanks to the others who let me slide into their dms and talk about my fic jfdksj even if it was ‘cheating’.

In Seokjin's defence, he didn't intend to get caught in a fight. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the next thing he knew, he got himself into a very idiotic fist fight for defending some twink getting harrassed at the gay bar. It got a little messy, about five people in total getting involved in the fight.

Unfortunately, the security guard called the police and they arrested everyone involved. Seokjin would've been more upset about it if he wasn't upset over the fact that he got a black eye on his beautiful face over some twink.

And now here he is, sitting in the holding cell at the police station with the same twink. Seokjin glances over to the guy every now and then, looking at the bruise near his lips and his shaky hands caressing his own thighs in attempts to calm himself down. Seokjin wants to grab the young man's shaky hands, calm him down, give soft kisses on his lovely looking hands but Seokjin also doesn't want to be borderline creepy, especially with the situation they're in right now.

He decides to look at his surroundings instead, although it's a little difficult to see properly when he's holding the ice pack he was given by the very kind police officers over one eye. Seokjin lets out a long, deep sigh. He doesn't want to think about his black eye. It's gonna be a lot harder now to confidently flirt with people when he's conscious about how he doesn't look up to his usual standards.

To his dismay, there isn't much in the holding cell for Seokjin to look at. There's the barred door of the cell, the boring blue bench they're sitting on, a small sliver of a window, and the pretty twink with the nice hands. Seokjin pretends that the door is more interesting than the pretty twink, and stares at it, hoping that the kind police officers would come through it to release them soon. He sighs again.

He doesn't get to stare at the cell door for long enough before the twink speaks up, voice low and quite unlike what Seokjin was expecting. "So, um, nice change of scenery we have here."

Seokjin turns to stare at the twink, eyes wide, trying to process the words that were just uttered in the holding cell. The twink has a cheeky smile on his face, cheeks stained with a light pink blush, indicating that he was probably joking, but Seokjin's not so sure.

"We're in a prison cell," he says slowly, after what feels like forever of him staring at the twink.

"Perfect," the twink laughs, sounding like a twinkling fairy and Seokjin finds him even prettier. "It's my kinda scene. I love prison cells. I get wild over bars and small windows and I especially love having little to no free space."

Sarcasm drips from every single word the twink says and Seokjin finds himself laughing. His squeaky laugh echoes in the cell, hitting the walls and possibly the hallway outside the cell. The twink's smile widens. The blush remains on his cheeks.

"You're funny," Seokjin says after his laughter dies down. "I like you."

"Well, you punched an asshole for me, so I guess the feeling's mutual," the twink smiles wider,  Seokjin didn't think that the twink could be any cuter but, lo and behold, a gummy smile appears. Seokjin's heart swoons. If the twink gets any cuter, Seokjin's heart might not be able to survive.

"He deserved it," Seokjin said with a scoff.

"Yeah, he fucking did," the twink mutters, smile disappearing as he sighs. "He's my ex."

Seokjin purses his lips. He wants to say a few choice words about the twink's ex but he doesn't want to make the mood sour. He also wants to see that cute smile again. "He had you as a boyfriend and let you go? What an idiot."

"You wouldn't know. You don't know me."

"I know that I definitely wanted to get to know you in the bar though," Seokjin sends a flirty wink that might as well be a blink with his other eye covered. "You're cute."

The twink widens his eyes, blush deepening to red, and he grins shyly. "Thanks. You're, um, I wanted to you to approach me at the bar."

"Oh?" Seokjin smirks, confidence boosting and he turns on his flirt mode. "Well, it's a change of scenery but can I approach you now?"

The twink laughs. "Please do."

"I'm Seokjin," he introduces himself. "And I'd like to take you out on a date sometime."

"Yoongi," the twink smiles, gummy smile making Seokjin's heart swoon again. "And I'd really like some coffee after this."

There's a 24hr cafe not too far away from the police station.

Outside the entrance of the cafe, Seokjin stares at Yoongi, at his slightly bruised hands that punched the same guy Seokjin punched, now currently wrapped around a nice warm cup of black coffee.

"Have I told you that you have nice hands," Seokjin asks.

"Yeah, you did when you approached me at the bar."

"Can I hold them?"

Yoongi blushes. "Please."

Bruised hand holding another, they walk together to Yoongi's place. They hold cups of coffee in their other hands, drinking while flirting and talking about a second date. When they reach Yoongi's place, they share a shy kiss at the front door.

A second date follows. And a third. And a fourth.

Seokjin holds Yoongi's nice hands each time.

[succubused]

I know nothing about jojo. Teach me it out of context

part 1 phantom blood. um jonathan (British) has some personal problems with his adopted brother dio brando (also british) and then dio kills their dad and becomes a vampire. jonathan gets shounen powers and a guy survives for like fifteen minutes after being cut in half. dio gets decapitated so jonathan went and got married but then dios decapitated head appeared on the boat and was like jonathan i respect you so i want to use your decapitated body as my own. and jonathan was like dude thats kind of fucked up but the boat blew up and dio did it anyway. erina survived though

im putting these under a cut cause it got long as fuck but heres your jojo summaries

part 2 battle tendency is like. joseph who is jonathans thotty grandson teams up with caesar zeppeli (italian) (gay) to defeat the pillar men which include kars (milf) esidisi (milfs live in boyfriend) wamuu (adopted son). another milf called lisa lisa trains them into their shounen powers and then esidisi shows up and kills the teachers aides and possesses lisa lisas assistant and then dies. basically they all get into this arena deathmatch involving zombie horses and kars grows wings and runs around all sexy for a little bit before getting launched into space. caesar gets crushed by a stone cross after making a gay ass speech. love loses. also it turns out lisa lisa was josephs mom the whole time.

part 3 stardust crusaders i kind of hate but i love the characters so basically jotaro kujo (josephs grandson) um he gets his stand and hes like whats this evil spirit i have to be locked in prison for everyones protection. and then his mom gets a stand too but sike women arent people so shes going to die. this is of course dios fault and they have to kill dio. kakyoin tries to kill jotaro and then jotaro pulls the worm out of his head and theyre best friends after that. polnareff tries to kill avdol and avdol sets him on fire and theyre [redacted] after that. they all go on a wacky roadtrip to cairo to kill dio during which kakyoin feeds a baby its own shit and avdol fakes his death for a little over a week. killing dio doesnt go great and vanilla ice sucks avdol into the void and kills their dog iggy and i hate watching that part. kakyoin is crushed under the weight of his own hubris. dio thinks hes sexy for being able to stop time but jotaro can also stop time and he kills dio. jotaros very traumatized due to the entire experience. for some reason both polnareff and joseph survive. the end

part 4 diamond is unbreakable is basically josuke higashikata whos josephs kid out of wedlock hunting down a serial killer with a hand fetish. jotaro is there hes a marine biologist now and josuke is technically his uncle. theres also josukes best friend okuyasu theyre a lil gay but thats alright we like them. also got short king koichi and yukako. and evil twink mangaka rohan. its like murder mystery except a lil more fucked up cause its jojo. ultimately kira (murderer with hand fetish) gets his ultimate powers that manipulate time and space but it doesnt even matter cause josuke has protagonist disease okuyasu dies for like 10 mins but he gets better. kira gets punched into the street by jotaro and then an ambulance runs him over and he dies.

part 5 vento aureo is giorno giovanna whos dios kid but hes also jonathans kid bc dio fucked with jonathans body and thats how giorno was born. he kind of acts like dio if dio had jonathans moral code and hes blond. anyway hes 15 and he joins the mafia because he wants to end heroin abuse and he ends up getting god timespace manipulation powers and killing the boss diavolo but half of his friends are killed horribly so that sucks. and then he becomes the don of the italian mafia. and hes still 15. also polnareff is there for a minute he gets killed sort of but his ghost possesses a turtle so hes giornos turtle after that i guess.

part 6 stone ocean my favorite part cause theres finally lesbianism. jolyne who is jotaros daughter is in prison bc she got framed for murder by her boyfriend. jotaros been an absent father due to him having personal problems. he shows up to break her out of prison but he gets his soul and his stand turned into discs and pulled out of his head and he goes into a coma and most of the rest is jolyne trying to get the discs back. she has 2 girlfriends called hermes and foo fighters who is technically a mass of sentient plankton. weather report (sexy) and anasui (ugly) are also there. the main antagonist is pucci who is a priest and was also dios best friend when he (pucci) was 16 for some reason. by the end they get jotaros discs back and pucci successfully starts manipulating reality itself and it turns out weather report was his brother all along and their backstory is REALLY fucked up and then jotaro comes back and anasui is like jotaro can i marry your daughter and hes like no and then everyone gets killed and pucci resets the universe but emporio the ten year old theyve been hanging out with gets weather reports stand and uses it to follow pucci through the universe resets and he ends up creating one where pucci never existed. it ends with “irene” kujo meeting hermes and anasui/weather report are also there. its implied that this is a new universe where none of the bad shit ever happened. emporio is crying. it kind of sucks

part 7 steel ball run i really dont know how to summarize but basically johnny joestar whos like alt universe jonathan but actually not really like that at all. hes also paralyzed from the waist down and he wishes he wasnt. um he meets an italian (gyro zeppeli) and they go on a horse race across america to track down the body of christ. they meet diego brando whos like dio but hes more about class warfare than megalomania and hot pants who has a stand that lets her turn her flesh into spray. diegos stand is that he can turn himself and other living things into dinosaurs. johnny can shoot his fingernails like bullets. anyway they end up fighting the president of the united states (funny valentine) who was trying to turn lucy steele whos only like 14 into a vessel for the corpse of jesus or something and he kills gyro and hotpants and diego and johnnys like this sucks but sends him into an infinite death loop bc hes a dimension hopper but he just keeps dying over and over again in any dimension he goes into. and he deserved it

part 8 jojolion i havent read but gappy seems like a nice guy

[cobalt-penguin]

y’know what i’m still feeling annoyed and petty, plus i’m stuck inside and it’s storming out so why not type out a checklist of what everyone in TOW did to me.

since i am mean and manipulative, petty and pathetic, and so much more? why not bring up some old beef and give ya’ll something to eat. 

Gansey: tried repeatedly to instigate drama -- if not actively break up -- my OC ships by encouraging -- through IC shenanigans -- cheating and lying. One of these happened while I was on vacation with my family and i still remember crying about it in a hotel bathroom because i thought one of my few ships in the RP was over and I hadn’t even been asked about it. This also included trying to get his OC Tomas to make IC/OOC (hey you can feign innocence when it’s in that dubiously OOC space, until its receptive in which case you can say it was IC the whole time!) at one of my ship partner’s OCs. Made repeated fat jokes at one of my fat characters (the same one they were clearly trying to get away from their partner...hmm...). Claimed I was always running to vague on my personal. Fair enough, I did, but they did the same thing. In poem form. Never answered my message about leaving the RP group because they felt ‘disrespected” by it. Repeatedly including untagged dubcon/noncon elements on the dashboard and triggering me. Lying to Ivy and me about having a full Overwatch party then trying to say “oh it just emptied you can join now”. hid this “FAR” idea from the rest of the RP community and then played coy when they got found out and asked about it by another anon (not me). Made fun of other RP groups in Tumblr tags then, when I asked them and their friends not to, was told “we’re a step above them.” Saying I was excluding them from things when I asked to play OW with them AND invited them to my horror RP group AND, only months beforehand, were inviting them to my Marvel RP??Trying to emotionally manipulate me through threatening to kill characters they had obviously grown tired of playing (probably because their major connections were to me and not their other friends) -- “haha i’m probably going to kill (my oc) idk but doesn’t that make you upset?? what will (your character) even do??” Engaging in nasty “”IC”” interactions with my character, basically telling me, through them, off, and being supported by the entire community in doing so. All of this really hurt me because I considered Gansey a friend and a major inspiration at one point in my life. Someone I non-jokingly looked up to and trusted. I feel like Gansey left TAR, our first RP group, because of how controlling, self-interested, petty, and mean-spirited the admins there were. That they were limiting other people’s creativity while building up their own narrative -- everyone else just there to be their audience. But you and Roman literally became Usa and Jen. Congrats. You lived long enough to become everything you’d rebelled against. And yes Gansey -- I saw all of your messages to everyone. Emotionally manipulating others -- telling them how terrible you are you don’t deserve their friendship, but would like to -- isn’t an apology. Its a tactic. Do better in the future. And despite me “blocking” you? There were a hundred ways to still reach out to me if that was what you really wanted. But let’s be real. It wasn’t. That was part of your gambit to. Goodbye. 

Rosie: asked literally EVERYONE about what had happened with the ““TOW explosion”” except me. never even asked my side of the story. Rosie I don’t even get because the other admins treated her like shit -- making her do all the coding and technical components for the entire RP -- but she was still defending them to the end. Okay. And then to treat Shelly like utter SHIT even though Reyne was running her passive-aggressive mouth off about people who couldn't even defend themselves? Amazing. Yeah, she’s the bully. Your perspective was so twitested by your biases that you were ready to victim blame Shelly just because Reyne had to run at the sight of someone actually throwing their bulltshit back at them. 

Reyne: Like Gansey, frequently indulged in cheating/cucking scnearios for fun -- again, including my own characters without asking or telling me. Don’t think Reyne ever apologized for this, IC or OOC. Dropped ships with me repeatedly -- leaving the group even -- without a word. Passive-aggressive to the max. Made a ship with Gansey just to play out her Teen Wolf OTP -- something that will never not be funny to me, when she called Gansey’s “character” Stiles. Smooth. 

Frankii: Repeatedly dropped me and my characters from plots. Gave me one of the most hurtful comments of my RP community by essentially being like “maybe if your plots and characters weren’t so confusing than more people would want to RP with you.” Invited to join my horror RP group and never made a character. also told me this after Gansey wrote that enormous callout about me, that Roman piggybacked on while the getting was good: “also I'm not here to advocate on behalf of my friend but I really don't think Gansey was trying to be rude last night, they can come off a certain way when they're stressed.” COOL. The rest of Frankii’s message I really appreciated, at the time, but, surprise surprise, then despite us being “cool” they never spoke to me again. 

Laura: I actually really liked Laura tbh but I guess she didn’t feel the same. Some of our interactions back in TAR were actually some of my favorites. I invited her to join my horror RP group and she never made a character. When I asked about this -- and if she needed any help making someone or wanted to leave -- she said she was working on it. Basically stonewalled me over time. Honestly though? Not a lot to say I actually think Laura is a good writer and pretty cool. Its just obvious who her friends were and I, stupidly, thought I was included in that. 

Anna: Actually I really liked Anna too tbh but I guess I vastly overestimated our friendship? It happens. Dropped me from one of her plots -- after talking to me about including me in one of hers because she felt “obligated” basically, from being featured in my own -- without mentioning why or talking to me about it. Invited to join new RP -- refused (not mad about this, just making note of it). Refused to follow my new account when I lost my old one because “lol they’re such a furry”. 

Roman: lmao where to even start. Roman was condescending and elitist literally from the beginning of TAR. barely acknowledged my existence until he had to.I started a plot with an open invitation to the entire RP group, with a deadline so I could start writing. Roman waits until its over and complains that they were left out. I include him anyway. Roman mocks the fact that I ask to tag or outright remove aphrodisiac dust -- because I don’t like seeing untagged dubcon/noncon on my dashboard, it upsets me a lot -- and then goes on a whole thread about it after I go to bed and can’t even defend myself. Apparently told his friends not to invite me to things because he doesn’t like me??? And then he has the nerve to be like communication is key and you can come talk anytime??? While having me on their public “friends” list with a description about me on his blog??? omfg...I literally can’t. To this day. Actually let this image speak for itself.

Everything Else: The repeated, childish treatment of strippers as immoral (””your character is stripping?? my character is so upset and is going to protect them!!”). The implication that characters who were stripping were also automatically sex workers. The continued references to my character, who owned this establishment, as being sleazy and manipulative. Also, honestly, what was with ya’ll adopting some random teenager into your OW groups? That was weird af. And then bringing some random person into TOW without asking anyone and trying to pull rank like “we’re the admin team and we can do whatever we want”. and shit-talking Meg and me in your “open forum” when all we wanted to do was get on with out lives. Like? Who cares? Ya’ll didn’t want me, at least, there anyway, clearly. You don’t get to exclude me then talk about how disrespectful and “wrong” the way I left was..........

Me: I didn’t do everything perfectly either. I know I could be passive-aggressive. I could be self-interested. I could make bitter comments. I dealt with feeling angry and upset by making memes -- which, I’m gonna be honest, I get why ya’ll were upset but I don’t regret either. I had spent so long in TAR/TOW with nobody interested in my characters and plots -- originally because I didn’t vid and played furries but, later, well.........see above -- that I did focus on my own narrative. I wasn’t invited to plots. I didn’t have sexy vampires and boy band werewolves. I played weird characters that didn’t fit the common niche of the cast of an angst and hookup filled supernatural YA novel. Maybe my plots were confusing but, honestly? It was because they were always going to be in the background. I wasn’t disinterested in anyone’s stories. I had just been left out of them for so long -- having to beg to even be a mention in a single mention -- that I had to make my own. I wasn’t there to just be an audience member to be aghast by Roman’s newest quirky boy or Gansey’s newest possessed twink. I was a writer. A member of the community. And, at the time? I thought a friend. Someone who deserved appreciation and respect. 

I know who my true friends are now. We did, ironically, exactly what you did -- we have out own group, our own setting, our own community. 

And I still live with the mean and manipulative things YALL said everyday. Even as an adult -- even with everything I’ve accomplished and am so proud of -- I’m still traumatized by being treated so poorly -- for years -- and not even realizing it. Something I’m still working on -- one of the many reasons I still have trust issues to this day. Congrats. That’s your legacy on me. aNYWAY

byeeeeeee

[elenatria]

Chernobyl is the only show who gives us a wide variety of beautiful (shipable) persons, from nerd-twink Dmitri to pure-twink Leonid.

Do I have to make a list of Chernobyl’s badass yummy tragic shippable men?

Oh well. I’ll make a list of Chernobyl’s badass yummy tragic shippable men.

Because I’ve never seen a show with SO MANY badass yummy tragic shippable men in such few episodes. And some of them had only one memorable line. One. Line.

Do I start with Dyatlov? Watch me start with Dyatlov.

I remember… he was the second thing that impressed me when I watched ep 1 (the first was Valery leaving many bowls to his cat and committing suicide right after. I had to re-watch the bowl scene.) I was so struck by his guy-next-door looks, I was like “what the hell am I looking at, why does he look so familiar? Why does he not look like… an actor?” And then the detached way he’d say “Akimov…” as his voice trailed off, a voice so cold yet calm and mesmerizing. I’ve never seen such a realistic “villain” before and, just to play the devil’s advocate here, it still kinda bugs me that Mazin talks about him as this super nasty irredeemable villain. I have the impression that even in the recent podcast he talks as if HBO Dyatlov and the real Dyatlov are one and the same. Lack of time to explain himself maybe? Jared starts poking into that with his mention of an excerpt in the script of the court scene where we were meant to feel some compassion for Dyatlov (34:55) (his “history and motivations”). That part was omitted in the script btw, but if anyone has seen it… 

And of course there’s the deleted scene here. That we will probably never see.

I do understand that an auteur has to support his choices no matter what, and Mazin’s choice is Dyatlov = villain. But I do believe he is kinda absolute with some things, conveniently overseeing them, even saying that he didn’t give Jared any jokes because “Legasov wasn’t funny” (46:32) . 

Wut? 1:14

If he had said “I didn’t write Legasov as funny” he would have kinda owned it but the use of the past tense (”wasn’t”) implies that he meant the real Legasov. Same goes for Dyatlov I guess.

Akimov.

His relationship with Toptunov. Enough said.

Akimov wears a wedding ring and that feeds lots of “forbidden relationship” fics and I love it.

On to Toptunov. Yeah. Twinkest twink I’ve ever seen.

And I mean these guys are on fire, and we had to watch the very last episode to find out.

Steamy Toptumov fics? Bring them my way.

Then we have Vasily. 

Thank god I hadn’t seen The Terror before Chernobyl so I watched Adam Nagaitis’ Igantenko with pure eyes.

To this day it hurts to watch his scenes. All of them. And it’s even worse to read his story in “Chernobyl prayer”. Soooooo much worse. Not only because it’s a true story but because his wife’s description makes you feel the pain. How a decaying body can suffer, and the people taking care of it.

I understand some fans were kinda bummed that the show didn’t dig deeper into his and Lyusya’s love story. Makes sense. But to me they’re the definition of tragic puppy love and it hurts as it is.

And then my beloved Sitnikov with his exasperated, confident “Follow me”. I mean.

Another ring-bearer that one.

Aaaaaah look at that handsome confident face marry meeeeeeee. 

Bryukhanov. Another guy-next-door. Had me staring at the screen, listening to his every-day high-pitched husky voice and I was like “Did that guy jump right out of that seaside pastry shop where I was with my dad  back in the summer of 1985?”. Did they use a time machine to bring him to the show or something?

And now I’m finding out he has a fan base. Fuck yeah.

Fomin. Ok I legit knew that guy but I couldn’t put a name on his face

He was James Potter. ^^ And oh, he has worked before with Stellan and Emily in Breaking the waves. Somehow you feel compelled to trust that face, never mind if in “Chernobyl” he was cowardly and scared as a rat. The way he yelled “It was Dyat-lov!…” as they took him away, so beautiful, so dramatic.

And now, on to the main course.

DMITRI.

Oh my paws and whiskers.

He cares about Ulana SO MUCH that he follows her around on a Saturday like a puppy. Bringing her coffee and who knows what else. 

He even jokes about her dedication. But oh look, he’s dedicated too.

Comrade, I don’t wanna say it out loud but I’m crushing on you.

You can see Ulana is almost afraid to look into his eyes when she asks him what he’s doing there. She knows. 

But of course there are so many things keeping them apart. There’s the age difference - people would call her names even if they wouldn’t call Dmitri the same names if their ages were reversed. There’s their professional relationship that shouldn’t be compromised. There’s that ring on her finger that Dmitri doesn’t know if it’s a wedding ring, an engagement ring, or an ex-lover’s present. Does she even have eyes for him? Dmitri doesn’t know.

Even meatier stuff. 

PIKALOV. 

*screaming*

Wanna love a character because of a single line and the way he delivers it? Yeah, Pikalov is your man.

The steady decisive pause before his statement. The honour, the nobility, the self-sacrifice. If you didn’t know by then that “Chernobyl” was going to be the show with the biggest number of small but honourable characters, you got your first hint with Pikalov.

Another overlooked but honourable character. Shchadov.

And he has lots of power bottom potential.

Alrightz. Fan favourite time. I don’t even have to go into details. Glukhov.

Thank you, Mr Ferns, for being the only character in the show to deliver both noble heroic lines as well as eye candy.

Next: TARAKANOOOOOOOOOV.

Big dick energy right there. His resigned pauses between sentences, the way he sucks in the smoke, his authority as he greets each and every soldier. Stunning.

Pavel.  *cries* 3

If you swear to never watch the dog scenes again there is so much shippy potential in that one. Pacho prompts, here I come!!

Bacho, his war code of honour and his “I’m happy every day”.

You *know* he’s not happy but it doesn’t matter. What matters is how he’s trying to convince everyone else that he is. His perseverance. There’s a war to be won, even if he knows he’s losing.

Last but not least: Stepashin. Give me Roose Bolton in a minor courtroom role anytime, ANYTIME.

Honourable mention to Charkov because yeah, you know me. Because I just can’t get over this man. 

Also C-V-B. Also dub con. Don’t judge me.

[kokoro-koro]

Chapter 5 Journal Entry - Kokoro-koro

Those living kids sure seem to get up to all kinds of drama. Watching them for the last few months sure has been a whirlwind. Honestly, I’m kinda impressed how many of them are willing to kill, but I guess that’s the point of this game. Anyone can be pushed to the brink. Nice.

It’s probably kindaaaa my fault for starting things off with a bang, but oh well, am I right?

Gotta say, it definitely brought a tear to my ghostly eyes when I saw everyone mourning Kliment and Liya. I mean, those two idiots didn’t really deserve all of that, did they? How the hell did they both manage to kill each other? I mean, I get both planning a murder, but managing to target each other? Mad respect. A little sad that Ivy didn’t get one of those statues too. She’s definitely the worst victim in all of this.

Wasn’t my call. If it was, the entire palace would be flooded with statues of the wonderful Kokoro-koro’s likeness, ufufu.

Probably the wildest part of all of this was getting to come back to life for a bit. I mean, not life life, like actual life, but manifesting as a physical being. That was pretty cool. I think the other ghosts were all pretty stoked about it as well, not gonna lie. Can you blame us? Anyone stuck in an afterlife with Takeshi Taro for months on end would be thrilled with some new interaction.

Getting to see Airi again...I’m glad. It was a nightmare watching him destroy himself and struggle again and again for no reason. I always felt like I was calling out to him and he couldn’t hear me, but now he can.... I just wish he would’ve heeded my requests so much sooner. Did it really take me rising from the dead to get him to stop with the self destruction? What a dummy. I missed him, though. I’m just glad he’s still alive.

Loved seeing my darling dearest roommate again too. Ricardo sure is a card. He’s so fun to mess with. He just makes it waaaay too easy.

Seeing all the living kids get to reunite with their lost friends was honestly just so heartwarming. Brought a tear to my ghostly eye. Everyone definitely seemed confused by the newbies. Roll Call! Midori, Hana, Mika, Roseanne, Roshan, Saruhiko, Towa, Yuko, andddd...ugh, I guess Takeshi too. Almost all of them are just adorable. I think the living kids found it hard to take their eyes off us.

Especially when that damn owl made us all pretend to be in Luigi’s Mansion. She really put us through it. Who wants to get sucked up into a stuffy vacuum? Still, I think everyone bonded pretty well. Can’t believe I lost to Hanae of all people. At least I helped her secure that win. Among the humans, both Yuu and Hanae won. They looked so funny in their stupid hats. For the ghosts, Gam, Yuko, and Roseanne all failed to be captured. I expected Yuko, but that humbling idiot Gam sure was a surprise.

Before that god awful lion exorcised is all, I’m glad I got the chance to hold that event to find Airi a new best friend. I knew Raiouji wouldn’t let us stick around forever. Everyone was just too happy, but I’m glad Airi was able to forge another bond. Seeing him relate to Hanae and seeing him realize that people are always open to forgiveness was really eye opening for him. And seeing him find someone to lean on made it that much easier to leave.

Just like Karaju! Seriously, all the other bird servants died. Guess she got tired of waiting for the inevitable and peaced out. Watching that grumpy look on Raiouji’s dumb face was sooo worth it.

She wasn’t the only one trying to leave though. I have no idea who told them it would be a good idea, but Yahari tried to host their escape plan by ziplining out of the alchemy room. It baffles me they thought it would work. It really broke my heart, you know. When they tried to escape and Raiouji ruined that all. They’re just lucky their wounds weren’t worse. Can’t help but feel bad for Yahari, though. Their leg had already been in bad shape, so adding another break to that had to hurt emotionally. Though I can’t imagine Yuu or Mari had it much easier. Arm injuries are a pain in the ass. Limits everything you can do. I’d like to think Cai recovered pretty well from his concussion though! Even if he was confused at first. Having to guide Ricardo to help was such a pain though. I get he has a blood thing but still. 

We all should’ve expected Raiouji’s fun new motive. Getting exorcised was not a fun experience, I can tell you that much. I missed everyone so much, so being torn from the seams of reality felt like a bitch. Back to the same ol, same ol, getting to watch everyone from afar without them seeing me. I was already prepared to witness more dumb decisions.

And I was not disappointed! Almost immediately Airi threatened to kill Ricardo for the motive and he actually tried not to long after. Never thought I’d see a twink overpower a himbo with rope and then leave the himbo for dead. It was almost impressive. I’m at least proud of Airi for not actually going through with the murder…? The little victories.

There wasn’t much time to celebrate, however, because Azumaya’s body was found not too long after. And in the most extra way possible, too. I’d expect as much from someone of their ilk.

Before they could get to trial, Mukuro made everyone play the most baffling game of Never Have I Ever on earth. It’s almost like it had to be postponed for some reason. Weird. I think Yahari won, but I wasn’t paying much attention. I was more focused on, y’know, the murder.

Eventually they made it to trial and discovered dear little Tsuguyo was the killer all along, though she refused to admit it to the very end. Gotta admire that stubbornness. Poor kid was executed too. It wasn’t easy to watch the baby of the group suffer that fate, but there wasn’t time for anyone to rest, let alone myself. After Tsuguyo’s tragic death, Raiouji threatened to kill everyone. I think it was a joke but it didn’t matter. 

Momo just deadass exploded. Like what the hell is up with that? Tsuguyo just died! Can’t we get a break? Apparently not, because Raiouji made everyone investigate yet again for another trial. Typical bastard lion. 

And in the upcoming trial, everyone came together to discover Yahari was the culprit. Apparently the original plan was to kill Raiouji, but Yahari panicked and blew the bomb up early. That’s so sad, dude, Momo trusted you and everything. Raiouji had no issue sending Yahari to their death and everyone could only watch as it happened.

It’s become routine here.

What a miserable existence they’ve all found themselves in, but...I take solace in knowing they’ll find peace eventually. And, before I fade out, just one more thing.

I eat mayonnaise straight from the jar.

[unfolded73]

Decisions (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Flashbacks to all the little decisions that brought David and Patrick together to their wedding night. Canon compliant through S5. Rated Teen, 5.6k

Yeah, I’ve got it bad for these two.

(ao3)

~~~~~~~~~~

“Was that okay?” David let his hand slide across Patrick’s abdomen, nails scratching through the hair below his navel. He spooned up against Patrick’s back, ignoring the post-coital sweatiness for once in order to cuddle.

“Okay?” Patrick laughed, or more accurately, giggled. “Did you really ask if that was okay? Because I think I might’ve actually blacked out for a minute there.”

David hummed, the path of his hand continuing to Patrick’s hip. “It’s just, it’s our wedding night, so I felt a certain amount of pressure to live up to expectations. Wedding night sex should be, you know, top five sex.”

Patrick rolled over to face him, his nose nuzzling against David’s bare chest. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually keep score on our sex life.”

“Still--”

“It was amazing. You’re amazing.” Patrick kissed him. “You, my husband, are amazing.”

David tried not be thrilled by being called husband, he did, but his hammering heart had other ideas. He remembered stumbling out onto a Manhattan balcony the morning that gay marriage had been legalized in the States, hungover and with only a vague memory of whom he’d gone to bed with the night before, listening with half an ear as his polyamorous performance artist girlfriend at the time lectured her friends about the fact that marriage was a heteronormative construct to which the queer community never should have aspired in the first place. They all nodded sagely, taking drags off their cigarettes in the morning sunlight. David had nodded too, nodded in agreement that marriage was a prison, a trap, a refuge for desperate and weak-willed breeders. It sometimes occurred to him these days that his opinions back then had been thoroughly molded by those around him, pressed into his mind like handprints into soft concrete. Daniella said marriage was a construct, so David believed marriage was a construct. He wondered (not for the first time, or even the hundredth) what that David would think of him now, looking forward to a settled life with this one man who wore sensible Oxford shirts that he bought at the outlet mall in Elmdale.

“Do you ever think about all the tiny decisions we made that led us here?” Patrick asked.

David shook himself out of his reverie. “Hmm?”

Patrick pulled away far enough to be able to focus on his face. “I mean, there’s any number of ways that if things had gone slightly differently, you and I would never have met. Or at the very least, would never have ended up in business together. Or in a relationship.”

“See, I try not to think about things like that, because imagining never being with you would be very upsetting for me. And you know I don’t like my eyes to get puffy.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that to me several times today.”

“Well, it’s important,” David responded, lifting his hand and gesturing in the air for emphasis.

“Important enough to say during the ceremony, though?”

“It’s just that your vows were very emotional.”

“Yeah, I said those things because I like to watch your eyes get puffy,” Patrick said, smirking at him.

David huffed in annoyance, even has he cupped the back of Patrick’s head, fondly stroking the short hair above his neck. “Anyway, no, I don’t get all Gwyneth in Sliding Doors about my life choices.”

“I never saw that movie.”

David reared back, his eyes widening in horror. “Okay, I’m going to need a divorce.”

“Or we could just watch the movie,” Patrick said, grinning, and then leaning in to kiss him.

David hummed and smiled against Patrick’s lips. “Yeah, I suppose we could just watch the movie.”

~*~

Patrick opened the door of his increasing barren apartment to see Rachel standing there. Her eyes were red from crying, and his stomach twisted with guilt at the sight of her.

“Can I come in?” she asked, and what was he supposed to say to that other than yes, so yes is what he said, stepping back to admit her into the cardboard box forest of his living room.

Rachel looked around despondently. “So you’re really moving?” She was dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, her long, red hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Patrick wished he could hug her because he really needed a hug, but he kept his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans.

“Yeah.”

Her shoulders drooped at that, as if just by asking, she might make him change his mind and stay. Which, given their past, probably wasn’t an unreasonable thing for her to think.

“And you’re just going to drive; you don’t even know where you’re going to live?”

Well, no, that part of the plan he’d told Rachel wasn’t true. He’d wanted it to be true -- wanted to be the kind of person who could just uproot his entire life on a whim and head off into the sunset with no clear idea where he was going to end up. But Patrick was a planner, and in the end he’d been too anxious to go through with that level of spontaneity. Instead he’d browsed job websites until he found something weird but promising, working for a guy named Ray who’d hired him over the phone after a lengthy, very chatty interview. He’d even be able to rent a spare room in Ray’s house, so if Ray turned out to be a serial killer, at least Patrick was making himself fully available to murder at any time of the day or night. He liked to be accommodating that way.

He didn’t want to tell Rachel any of this.

She laughed bitterly. “And here I thought this time, the engagement would stick.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, I’m sick of your apologies. All you ever do is apologize to me.”

So she came here to berate him, then. Great. Not that he didn’t deserve it, with as many times as he’d broken her heart.

“But I guess that you don’t want to marry me so much that this time you can’t even stand to be in the same town as me,” she continued.

He and Rachel had been best friends in high school, inseparable, and everyone expected them to start dating from the time they were fifteen. Everyone expected it so much that it was like they willed the relationship into existence, and Patrick let himself be swept along with the tide of their expectations. He’d kissed her for the first time after one of his baseball games because he knew he was supposed to. He’d had mediocre sex with her the night of their spring formal because their friends expected it. He’d come home from college and asked her to marry him because his parents and her parents and even the lady who worked the register at the local hardware store had been hinting at him about it. Then a few months later, faced with the fact that being engaged to someone meant you had to actually marry them, he’d panicked and broken off the engagement. That was only the first time he’d broken off their engagement.

It was possible that Patrick was an asshole.

“I just need a fresh start with my life, I can’t--” Stay here. Face you. Face my parents.

“So then go to Toronto, or Chicago, or somewhere normal that people go when they’re trying to get away from home.”

“It’s expensive to live in those places. And I’m a small town guy.”

“I don’t want you to go. I still--” She hiccupped a tiny sob. “I still love you, Patrick.”

He felt like he still loved her too, and also that he’d never had a clear idea of what love actually was. But he knew he couldn’t marry her. With so much uncertainty in his life, he was finally certain of that, albeit several years too late.

“Please don’t go.”

It would make a lot of people happy if he stayed. Rachel, his parents, his buddies from high school who still liked to drink cheap beer and watch hockey. The lady from the hardware store. In leaving, he was disappointing everyone. He could agree not to go, and that weight of disappointing everyone would lift. 

Replaced by a heavier weight that he couldn’t quite define, but that had been pushing him down his whole life.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I have to go.”

~*~

This fucking motel smelled funny, that was why he couldn’t sleep.

David turned over one more time, trying to get comfortable between the scratchy, low thread count sheets. He pulled the sleeve of his designer sweatshirt over his hand and cupped it over his face and inhaled, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to imagine that he was back in his own bed at his parent’s mansion. Or the bed in his Manhattan loft. Or even the bed of a stranger as he avoided the wet spot on the sheets and wondered if it would be easier just to leave now rather than waiting until morning. Literally anywhere would be better than this hellhole.

Flipping onto his back violently, David huffed out a breath.

“Oh my God, David, can you stop fidgeting for like, two minutes?”

“Fuck off, Alexis.”

She made an unhappy squeaking noise. “You don’t have to be such a dick to me all the time, you know.”

“I think I do.” He was still furious at her that she would have left with Stavros, abandoning him to their mother’s misery and their father’s misplaced optimism and this place.

“I could leave too, you know,” he added.

“Oh really, David? Where would you go?”

 “To New York, where I lived.”

“Your apartment is gone, David.”

“I have friends, Alexis.”

“Oh, do you. Name one.”

He opened his mouth, but before he could say a person who definitely existed and wasn’t made up, Alexis added, “And I mean someone who would actually care enough about you to let you crash on their sofa now that you’re poor. Also, how would you even get to New York? We don’t even have a car. Or money for a plane ticket on a…” -- and here she shuddered -- “commercial airline.”

“Believe me, if I wanted to find someone to put me up in New York, I could. There are men who would be more than happy to send me a plane ticket if I asked.”

“Ew, David. Like a sugar daddy? Even you should have more self-respect than that.”

He snorted. Self-respect. As if.

“And anyway, you’re not the young twink you once were; no one’s going to pay you to be their boy toy now,” she added.

“Jump off a bridge, Alexis,” he said, in no small part because he feared what she said was true. He didn’t have any friends who’d cared about anything but his money and connections, and he probably was too old to attract the attention of someone who might support him financially just because he was pretty and good at sucking dick. A small voice in the back of his head told him he was better off without those kinds of people. He ignored it.

“Fine, prove it. Leave,” she huffed. “Go to New York and find some skeevy guy to support you, see if I care.”

A part of him was so angry with Alexis that he almost got up at one thirty in the morning and stormed out of the room. He’d find a way to get out of this town somehow. He’d walk. He’d hitchhike. He’d sprout wings and fly.

After a long pause during which he stayed under the too-thin bedding, David said, “I can’t leave, I need to be here for Mom. She won’t survive this without me.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re staying,” Alexis muttered sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

~*~

“Feeling better?” Stevie asked as she took the joint out of his hand and put it to her lips. David watched as she took a deep drag and held the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds before blowing it up at the sky.

He leaned back on the worn picnic table behind the motel and looked up at the way the light filtered through the trees. Schitt’s Creek could be oddly beautiful when viewed from the right angle. And when high. 

“Yeah. Better.”

“Done freaking out about the store?”

“Probably not, but I am presently done freaking out. At present.”

Stevie giggled, and David rolled over on the table to take the joint back from her.

“It’s the consignment part of it that’s crucial, but I wasn’t able to impart that to that uptight little cutie at Ray’s.”

“You talk like your mother when you’re high.”

David gasped, sitting up. “You take that back.”

Stevie blinked at him. “I just mean you use bigger words. Unnecessarily large words,” she overennunciated. “Wait, you said ‘cutie.’”

“Who did?” He shook his head side-to-side, trying to clear it. “I mean, I said what about what?”

“You said ‘that uptight cutie at Ray’s.’ He’s cute? You failed to mention that, you just said he was snippy.”

“He’s not cute; he was pressuring me to fill out a form. Nothing about that was cute.” David stretched back out on the picnic table. 

“And yet you said it.”

“Also I’m pretty sure he was wearing Levi’s.”

Stevie clutched at her heart. “Oh my God.”

“You may not think I can tell when you’re making fun of me but I actually can. I just mean he’s not my type. Which doesn’t matter because I’m sure he’s straight. He was pretty much wearing the straight boy uniform.”

“You sure are worried about what this non-cute boy’s sexual preferences are, David.”

“Nuh-uh.”

Stevie didn’t respond to that, and so they were silent for a while. David continued to squint up at the sunlight-dappled trees and Stevie… thought her Stevie thoughts. David imagined this is what his teen years would have been like if he’d grown up with no money in a town like this: getting stoned with a friend on a sad picnic table behind a motel. No parties with half-naked models and bowls of ecstasy. At the moment, he couldn’t put his finger on any reason why this would have been such a bad way to grow up. He certainly could have used a friend like Stevie in those years. Someone to support him and to call him on his bullshit.

David took a deep breath and broke the silence. “I guess what I wanted to say before I was stoned is, maybe it’s not too late for me to give up on the store idea. My mother was right, I’ve never done anything like this on my own before, and any belated maternal instinct she may have had to encourage me--”

“David Rose, don’t you dare give up on the store. I’ll be furious with you if you do, I mean it.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know about running a business.”

“I know. But you can ask your dad for help. Or you can ask the cutie at Ray’s.”

“I hate you,” he said, but he reached into his pocket and ran his finger along the edge of Patrick’s business card.

“Please don’t give up on it, David.”

He rolled over and looked at Stevie, her black hair tousled in the light breeze. He felt the sudden urge to tell her he loved her, but he figured that was just the marijuana talking. He bit his lips to keep the declaration in and sat up. “I’m going to go down to the store,” he announced.

“To do what?” she asked, hopping down off the picnic table and taking David’s hand to pull him to his feet. The world tilted alarmingly on its axis from this new vantage point.

“To work on my business plan.”

~*~

Patrick called his parents on Sunday afternoons without fail. He felt like if he didn’t stick to the schedule, if he let a Sunday go by and didn’t call them, then he’d start going longer and longer between calls and eventually he’d barely talk to them at all. So he called, right on schedule, even though the thought of talking to them today had caused a ball of anxiety to form in his stomach for some reason that he couldn’t explain.

After the exchange of pleasantries and listening to the latest gossip from his hometown, an uncomfortable silence descended.

“So, I… uh…” Why was this so hard to talk to his parents about? Patrick squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the phone harder against his ear. “I’m not going to be working for Ray anymore.”

“Oh,” his mom said, and he could hear the mixture of confusion and worry in that one little syllable. “That didn’t last very long, did it?”

“I know you said Ray’s a little… scattered, but you probably need to give it some more time, son,” his father said in that deep, sonorous voice that Patrick had failed to inherit. 

“Does that mean you’ll be coming back home?” his mom asked, and shit, of course she would jump to that conclusion.

“No, no no, that’s not why I’m… I’m going into partnership with another guy to help him run a store.”

“What guy?” his father asked at the same time his mother said, “A store?”

“Um, his name is David,” Patrick said, and it felt weirdly thrilling and forbidden to speak David’s name out loud to his parents. He frowned; what an odd thought. “The general store in town closed down, and David’s leased it to turn it into a space where he’s going to sell products from local vendors on consignment. It’s a good business model.”

“It sounds interesting,” his dad said, which sounded like a diplomatic way of saying ‘risky.’ Or perhaps a diplomatic way of saying ‘I can’t fathom why you would you give up a good job and a relationship with a lovely girl like Rachel to move to the ass end of the world and drift from one job you’re overqualified for to another.’

“It should be. I’m excited about it.” He paced across the floor, suddenly anxious to get off the phone. 

“I saw Mr. Stephens a few days ago,” his father said.

“Oh, yeah?” Theo Stephens had been Patrick’s boss at the bank.

“He said your job is still available if you want to come back home.”

“Tell him he really needs to hire a replacement,” Patrick said.

“I think he did, but it didn’t work out. So he’s looking again to fill the position, and I thought--”

“I’m staying here in Schitt’s Creek, Dad.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why? What does that town have that your hometown doesn’t?”

A rush of images filled Patrick’s head. The clean white walls of the store, and the nice way it smelled now that he and David had washed everything thoroughly and filled it with skin and hair care products. The way David smirked when Patrick said something witty and sardonic, like there was a big smile inside of him that he was barely containing. The way David’s long, ringed fingers looked as he pressed labels onto bottles of moisturizer and bags of tea. 

“It has the store.”

“Oh, stop giving Patrick a hard time, Clint,” his mother said. “We just miss you, is all.” 

Patrick’s face flushed with shame that he was making his mother sad. “I know, Mom. I miss you too.”

“You’ll keep us posted about how it goes with the store?” his dad asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, but there was a part of him that never wanted to mention the store to them again. It was his and David’s, and sharing it with people at home, even his parents, felt strangely blasphemous.

“We love you, son.”

“Love you, too.”

The next few days were filled with body milk and spreadsheets of vendors and inventory and laughter and his heart squeezing uncomfortably in his chest every time he looked at David across the room. On Patrick’s next day off, he got up early and went for a hike, like if he didn’t keep moving his skin might turn itself inside out.

Or like he might have to admit that he had romantic feelings for David.

It wasn’t that the thought of being gay had never occurred to him before; he wasn’t born under a rock, after all. But he dismissed it, because gay men weren’t like him. Gay men were like David, fashion-conscious and unaware of what a change-up pitch was. And then there had been Rachel and a few other girls in college, keeping him from seriously questioning his sexuality. He looked straight, he acted straight, he’d had sex with women. Although, true, he’d always wondered what the big deal about sex was, because he’d secretly never thought it was all that great. And true, he’d once sat in a darkened theater watching Avengers and spending a lot more time focusing on Chris Evans than on Scarlett Johansson. But he’d never really fallen for a boy either, and eventually Patrick had concluded that he wasn’t a particularly sexual person. That was a thing, after all; he’d read about it. 

Then he met David Rose.

He spent hours working on the store’s budget and thinking about the turn of David’s neck. He stocked shelves and thought about David’s elegant fingers, with those silver rings that would catch the light and attract Patrick’s attention like a moth to a streetlamp. He stared into the middle distance, listening to the jazz that David insisted was an essential part of the store’s aesthetic, and thought about what David’s mouth would feel like on his own.

There was no use denying it: for the first time in his life, Patrick was falling for someone, and it was a man. And while that was confusing enough, the bigger problem was that it was his business partner.

Patrick reached the overlook point, and he stopped to catch his breath, sweat running down between his shoulder blades. 

“I’m gay,” he said out loud to the forest, testing the words, the very concept, in his mouth.

“I’m gay. I’m very, very gay for David Rose,” he said, and then laughed. He sounded crazy.

An argument could be made that it would be the wisest course never to act on his feelings because of the business. The most likely outcome to sharing his feelings with David would be a humiliating rejection; Patrick wasn’t the kind of person David would be attracted to, surely, and the best he could hope for would be for David not to laugh in his face. Even if by some miracle David was interested, all that would probably lead to would be a short relationship that would inevitably end, leaving Patrick working day in and day out with the man who’d broken his heart. 

He imagined asking David out, and David saying yes. Suddenly it was all he wanted, to go on a date with David, but he didn’t know if he’d have the courage to do it. Still, admitting that he wanted to, admitting what his feelings were, that was almost as good as making the decision to act on them.

“I’m so fucked,” Patrick said to the trees. They nodded in the breeze in agreement.

~*~

It was a rare day off from the store, and all David had wanted to do was sleep until noon and then lie in bed and eat a bag of chips and watch whatever was on the Hallmark Channel, which was available on the new cable package that his dad had gotten for the motel. Instead, his mother had woken him up with a list of chores, the latest of which was helping her to groom her wigs. So putting it mildly, David was crabby. He wanted to text Patrick and tell him about the trials his mother was putting him through, but Patrick was working at the store alone today and he probably wouldn’t appreciate the interruption.

“I like you and Patrick together,” his mother said, and David eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she’d finally learned to read his mind.

“There’s nothing to like yet; we’ve been on one date and we’ve kissed a few times, that’s all.” He combed the wig he was working on a little more vigorously, which got him a reproachful look from Moira.

“Perhaps that’s so, but the spark between you is pellucid for all to see.” She gave him a knowing smile. “He lights up when you walk in the room, and I dare say the reverse is also accurate.”

“Okay, well.” David bit down on a smile, lest he prove her point. “There’s still a lot that can go wrong, that’s all. And when things do go wrong, both my personal life and my business will be fucked, so.”

“Don’t be so fatalistic, David. You mustn’t assume that things will go wrong.”

“Things always go wrong.” He set the hairbrush down with a clatter. “I’m the first guy he’s been with. Literally the first man he’s ever kissed. It’s… it’s like holding a baby bird in my hand while riding a roller coaster. Any minute now we’re going to go over a big drop and I’ll forget and” -- he closed his fist tightly -- “I’ll crush him.”

“A very evocative avian metaphor, darling, but Patrick’s a grown man, not a bébé bird. Inexperienced with some activities, I’m sure, but he doesn’t strike me as someone who can’t take care of himself.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you aren’t the bird on the ferris wheel, David?”

“I said roller coaster,” he responded petulantly. “And hardly.”

Moira looked unconvinced.

“God, what am I doing, getting involved with my business partner? This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in a… lifetime of dumb things,” he said with a flourish of his hand in the air. “I should end it now, before things get even messier.”

Tilting her head and regarded him for a moment, Moira reached out and put a hand on his bicep. “You’ve often put your heart in the care of people who have hurt you. But that isn’t because you are feeble-minded. It’s because those people weren’t worthy of you. Patrick, I think, may be worthy of you.”

“Okay, you barely know him.”

His mother just smiled. “I have a good feeling about him, that’s all. Have a little faith in the power of love.”

“Ew.”

She ignored that. “I implore you, David, don’t end things with him before they’ve even begun. Open your heart to the possibility of joy.”

“Ugh.” David went back to combing out the wig. “Fine.”

~*~

“Hey, do you wanna get a drink after rehearsal?” Patrick asked, which made Stevie narrow her eyes at him in confusion.

“David’s not expecting you?”

“We are capable of being apart for an evening.” At Stevie’s skeptical look, he added. “I told him you were stressed about the show and that I was planning to take you out for a drink.”

“So you lied.”

“No, I didn’t. You are stressed about the show, and I was planning to take you out for a drink.”

Patrick was being weird. “What’s going on, Brewer?”

“Nothing’s going on. I. want. to. get. a. drink. Do. you. want. to. get. a. drink.” Each word came out in a monotone.

She huffed. “Sure.”

“Great.” He looked simultaneously frustrated that she was being so difficult and yet pleased that she’d finally agreed.

When they were released by Moira from Cabaret rehearsal, sweaty and exhausted, Stevie was surprised when Patrick led her toward his car instead of down the street to the cafe. “Where are we going?”

“The Wobbly Elm,” he said, unlocking the passenger door and opening it for her.

“We could just go to the cafe,” she said, but she got in the car anyway. Going to the cafe meant she might have to sample one of Twyla’s terrible cocktail experiments.

Patrick got in the car and cranked the engine. “I find that when I have conversations in the cafe, somehow half the town knows what I was talking about by morning.”

Stevie’s suspicion meter edged up a couple more notches. “You are being really weird.”

“I know,” he said, pulling out onto the main road out of the center of town.

“If something bad is happening with David, or if something bad is about to happen, like if you’re planning to break up with him, you better tell me now. If you wait until I’ve got a drink in me at the bar, I might beat you with a pool cue and leave you for dead in the woods.”

Patrick laughed. “Nothing like that, I promise. I don’t think you’ll feel the temptation to beat me to death.” And then he changed the subject to Cabaret, and Stevie let him, because she had an infinite well of frustration to express about the show and her part in it.

He let her rant the whole way to the bar, but once they had their drinks ordered, he put a gentle hand on her arm. “You’re way too hard on your performance, you know. Your voice is actually really good.”

She snorted, taking a large pull from her beer. “It really isn’t. I know what singers are supposed to sound like, and I don’t sound like that.”

“Maybe not, but you sound real, and you sound vulnerable. You’re gonna be a fantastic Sally; I mean that.”

Stevie flushed, uncomfortable with the compliment. “Thanks,” she said, and then cleared her throat. “Okay, what did you drag me all the way out here for?” Now it was Patrick’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Oh. Well, there’s something I want to do, and I’m hoping that if it’s a terrible idea, you’ll talk me out of it.”

“Okay,” Stevie said slowly. “It probably is a terrible idea, but what the hell -- what is it?”

Patrick took a long drink from his beer glass as if for strength. “I’m thinking about asking David to marry me.”

Stevie almost choked on her beer. “Oh my God. Oh my God! Patrick!” She wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure if they were hugging friends, or non-hugging friends. “Patrick, that’s amazing!”

He just nodded. “Yes, but is it a terrible idea?”

She had to pause at that. Had David ever mentioned marriage to her, or what he thought of it? She didn’t think so. “Have you ever talked about marriage with him?”

“Not in those terms, but we’re starting to talk about… really long term things. Being together years from now, and what we might do. It just seems like that’s where his head is, like he finally trusts that I’m not going to lose interest in him. And I want to… I guess I’m just a traditional guy at heart and I’d really like to have that whole thing. The wedding. The vows and the cake and the dancing.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “But I don’t know. Maybe he won’t want that.”

“I might’ve assumed that about David at one point, that he wasn’t the marrying kind. But watching him with you, like the way he was with your parents, and planning your birthday party?” Stevie smiled, and then suddenly she had to force back tears. “I think if I had to place a bet on it, I’d bet on him saying yes.”

Patrick let out a breath he was holding. “Okay, cool. Okay.” And then he smiled one of his soft smiles at her. “So do I have your blessing?”

Her eyes widened. “My what?”

“I mean, I could ask his father, I guess, but I don’t think David would appreciate that. Also I don’t think Mr. Rose would be able to keep a secret. And anyway, I feel like you’re the… you’re like the guardian of David’s heart, if that makes sense. So I think you’re the one I should ask.”

The tears became impossible to hold back now. Stevie felt like the play was scraping her raw as it was, exposing a deep well of emotions just below the surface. Grabbing a cocktail napkin, she dabbed at her eyes. 

“Stevie, don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry.”

Laughing, she handed him a cocktail napkin. “You’re such a softy.”

“I know, I know.”

“Yes, you have my blessing. I mean, I basically bullied David into realizing he was into you, so it would be pretty shitty of me not to give you my blessing to marry him.”

Patrick smirked at her. “Yeah, that would be pretty shitty, and you did what now?”

Stevie picked up her beer glass and clinked it against Patrick’s. “I love both you idiots.”

~*~

 “Stevie called us idiots,” Patrick mumbled as they were both drifting off to sleep.

“Yeah, her wedding toast left something to be desired, and the fact that I cried anyway just shows how ragged my emotions were today.”

“Not in the toast, I mean when I asked for her blessing to propose, she said ‘I love both you idiots’.”

David pressed his resulting grin against Patrick’s forehead. “That sounds like Stevie.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so glad my family lost all our money. I’m so glad you couldn’t stay in your hometown anymore and that Ray posted that stupid job online. I’m so glad we made all the right decisions that led us to right here, right now,” David said in a rush, like he had to get the words out before he changed his mind about saying them.

Patrick put his hand over David’s where it rested on his hip and threaded their fingers together, bringing David’s hand to his lips. “Me too, sweetheart.”

END