#Big Dam Bridge

[streamingthruamerica]

Getting to Denver--Part 1

Much has happened since leaving Bonnaroo for Denver. There's been a long-distance get-together in Rogers, Arkansas with a nursery school buddy from Pittsburgh...

[handibles]

The Big Dam Bridge

[tinytrailblazer]

Just a few of the bridges I’ve photographed ❤️🌉❤️

Hoover dam, pedestrian bridge Kentucky, swinging bridge in West Virginia, mackinaw Michigan. To name couple

[rebecawolfforest]

The Big Dam Bridge

[worldboxingmanager]

The Big Dam Bridge

[hirsheyskisses]

OP Boys: Special Hugs (02)

Law & Ace

(Short Scenario)

Trafalgar D. Water Law

♡ Another case of, seriously not the touchy type.

♡ the most physical contact he gives most people his brushing shoulders when moving past them on the submarine, and even that's rare seeing how careful he is.

♡ however, with careful comes attentiveness, and with attentiveness comes him noticing how strange you've been acting.

♡ the skip in your step slowly fading, your feet dragging, the diminished eating during mealtime, the bags forming under your eyes

♡ yeah, he noticed

♡ could this oh so possibly be because he actually liked your energy and missed it?

♡ of course not (it obviously is)

"Room."

"Shambles."

One moment, you were inching past him in the halls, the next you found yourself standing besides a bed. A bed that wasn't your own, with none other than the Captain facing you.

"We need to talk, and you're not leaving this room until we do. So sit."

He growled, and you laughed nervously, deciding it was better to listen than argue, so you sat.

"What's the problem, Captain?"

"You. You clearly have a problem."

Ow. Blunt as always.

"...will lying save me from this?"

He lifted an eyebrow, clearly not amused as he sat beside you, shaking his head in clear disbelief. "I have nothing against keeping you locked in here until you spit it out. Whatever wrong is clearly affecting your performance on the sub, which could in turn affect the entire crew."

Law's words came off harsher than he intended, he regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. Watching you shy away and shrink closer to the wall, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry, Cap'n.. I can sort it out myself." You moved to stand up, angling your head away. But you weren't near as sly as you thought you were, he saw those tears pricking at your eyes.

So Law snatched your arm and pulled you back down, and into his side. "There's no need to do it yourself when I'm offering help."

"Don't wanna be a bother, it's not a big deal."

"Wouldn't have offered if it was a bother, and it's clearly a deal to you. I'm here for you."

If him saying that wasn't enough, he placed a comforting hand on the small of your back. It was like the dam broke, tears flowing down your face and you buried your face into his chest.

Well, shit. He wasn't expecting that-

He awkwardly placed an arm around you, holding you close to him, letting you cry. His tattooed hands rubbed circles into your back, sides, and shoulders, occasionally reminding you to breathe. He stared down at you, unsure of what to say.

You must've been there for forever before your tears subsided, and for the time, you threw away the Captain and Subordinate dynamic. And Law allowed it. Right now, he was a trusted friend.

Snuggling up closer to him, Law gently rearranged the two of you so you were laying, his legs wrapped sound yours, head buried into your hair, your arms wrapped around his torso.

No further words were spoken that night. You may have been the obvious one getting comfort but.. Law made a mental note to do this again, from time to time.

Portgas D. Ace

♤ Ace may be a bit wary of hugs at first. He may be friendly, but he's not that friendly.

♤ But when Whitbeard kept sending you on duo missions with him, Ace grew to be absolutely in LOVE with you

♤ not that he'd ever show that.. seeing as he doesn't believe himself worthy of love..

♤ doesn't mean he isn't (wholesomely) touchy, however

♤ grabs your shoulder a lot, your ha d when his tipsy and bold, playfully bumps into you

♤ a lot

"Ace.. you've been awfully quiet. And you're staring again."

Your voice seemed to bring him out of a trance, and Ace quickly broke off into- a rather forced laugh. "Just- enjoying the view!"

"Oh? How romantic."

You teased, watching your freckled friend redden to his ears. "The- THE VIEW BEHIND YOU. idiot!"

"You're going to sit here and tell me a wall is more interesting than me?"

You caught him, watching his mouth open and close as he attempted to think of a defense. After a moment, Ace gave in, huffing like a child, crossing his arms and turning his head away.

"You're gonna have to look at me at some point. We're gonna be at the island in two days, we can't have you brooding about!"

"I am not brooding."

"You're pouting. It's close enough. Now talk. Or else."

"I am not pouting!"

You sighed, inching closer to Ace. The ship was small, and so was the indoors."hey.. what are you doing?" "Well if you're not gonna talk, I'm gonna have to.."

"Tickle it out of you."

You finished with a menacing grin, watching Ace immediately liven as he shot up, raising his hands. "Don't you DARE-" "Oh I dare."

You threw yourself at him. Ace didn't even have time to defend himself before you launched your attack. Your hands were everywhere at once, tickling his side, arms, neck. He couldn't hold back his laughter, desperately pawing at your arms,

"Pl-puh-lease- AAA- y-you devil!" He managed between fits of laughter, backing himself up, with you following, "I warned you! This'll end if ya just talk!"

"N-never!"

Ace yelled defiantly, his knees hitting the bed, and fell backwards. You were on him in an instant, straddling his waist, the grin on your face having yet to fade.

"One more chance. Talk."

"...TAKE THIS-"

Ace shot up, arms wrapping around you. He was just as fast as you, having you pinned underneath his body, chest heaving.

For a few moments, you both remained still, chests heaving, before a shadow fell over Ace's eyes.

"..'m not good enough. You're too good to me."

"Huh? ...Ace, what are you on about?"

"You heard me! You're always there to catch my ass when I inevitably mess up. I.. I'm so grateful to you, but i hate myself.. for never being able to return the favor."

"Ace.." You whispered, watching a tear roll down his cheek. Freeing an arm, you leaned up, wrapping your now free arm around him and pulling him close.

"You're amazing, Ace."

"You've been an amazing light.. you've saved my life more times than I can count.

"So don't ever think.. to you're not enough. You're my Ace."

You whispered into his ear, and you could feel it: tears now running freely as he pressed himself closer, hat resting at an odd angle on his head. Ace's body was heating up, though not to a dangerous point.

That night, you held onto Ace. Held him in your arms, whispering sweet reassurances into his ear. His tears soon turned into soft snores, and.. now that he knew he was allowed to, he'd be in your arms every chance he gets.

[mamasturn]

send you away, major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleven (masters of the air) x black fem oc (eden marie cleven)

content: eden is anxious about having to be separated from her husband when he reveals that he has to serve in England.

an: I was burnt out from writing elvis content, but, now we're on masters of the air content, yay!

“I’m sorry, baby, but I gotta go.” His voice was a song sung by an old church choir; soothing, warm like her mama’s hugs, then it got disruptive. Like the snares of the drums as the song reached a climax. “They need us in England.” 

The pained look on her face would be engrained in his mind forever. There would be no way for him to forget it. Her thick eyebrows eat in a deep frown, pushing the rest of her features further down. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, glistened with tears. She refused to blink. The gentle rivers would transition to monstrous waterfalls with no dam to keep them at bay. And her lips, full and swollen from tender kisses, quivered as she clenched her jaw to keep her composure. 

��For how long?” Her voice was quiet. Gale sighed heavily and ran a heavy hand through his hair. If he had an answer, he’d give it to her. But, his silence spoke loud enough. She hummed and brushed his hand off her lap and began to trudge upstairs. A defeated sigh came from him. 

“E,” Gale called out. He followed her up the wooden steps. “Eden!” 

His large hand palmed their bedroom door that threatened to push him out. The lamp on her side of the bed was on, the blankets on the left side were pulled back, and she stood in front of the mounted mirror brushing her freshly pressed hair. Her sad expression had morphed into one like stone. He could see her jaw tick as each second passed. 

Gale took slow steps toward her. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Her husband, whom she’d only been married to for six months, was being shipped off to England to assist them in bringing down Germany. How coulde she not be upset? 

Gale stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His advances didn’t keep her from wrapping her hair and tossing her satin scarf around her head. He leaned down, nose brushing against the shell of her ear. Eden’s breath hitched. His lips followed, pecking at the sensitive area below her ear. He pulled at her skin with his teeth and she whimpered softly, her hand falling on top of his. “Gale…” A warning. 

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said after some time. “I knew what I got into when I married you but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared, Gale!” Finally, she turned to meet his gaze. So big and blue, they were. Filled with sympathy and remorse. 

“I knew what I was getting into when I married you, but still! I gotta send my husband away and I don’t want to think about the day where someone could knock on the door telling me--”

Gale shushed her softly and pressed her body against his in a tight embrace. His warm hand gripped her chin and tapped softly. She met his eyes. “So let’s not think about that. I leave in three weeks. We’re gonna focus on making these three weeks worthwhile, and we’ll cross the other bridge when we get to it. But I’ll always be with you one way or another, you know that, darlin’. You do know that, don’t you?”

Eden nodded. Gale raised an eyebrow. “I know, baby.” 

Gale hummed and drew invisible lines along the bare skin other thigh. The lace of her slip tickled her leg. His hand inched up slowly. “How about we practice for that final send off?” 

Eden smiled knowingly and broke away from him, peeling the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders her bare body on display. “C’mon, we’ve got all night.” 

All night indeed.

[willbyersabyss]

The big thump of '83

There's so much talk about head thumping that it feels like there's something bigger going on here. I think El thumped Will's head in 1983 when she opened the gate.

We obviously have Angela who got whacked in the head with a roller skate. Grade 2 concussions usually result in amnesia (memory loss). Hmm.

Steve talks about how he crawled backwards and thumped his head. Crawled backwards... through time? The Upside Down is stuck in the past. He can change. Amnesia... memory loss... personality change. Reminds me of a certain someone who was losing himself and his memories.

Then there's the Phineas Gage references. Phineas Gage, who had a rod go through his head, is compared to Will. But what exactly is the rod for Will? The Mind Flayer?

Mr. Clarke puts an emphasis on it being a rod, not a crowbar. The Mind Flayer's smoke arms look kind of similar to a crowbar, so the rod isn't that. They want us to think it's the MF, but it's a trick, a misconception, just like how Gage's case often gets confused.

The rod that impaled Gage was a tamping rod, something used to contain explosions. I would say that the gates to the UD are quite explosive, but these gates are also contained and precise.

Then both El and Will are indirectly brought up in relation to the earthquake. Rod imagery comes back to haunt Will here. This is linking Will's "rod" with the gates opening, gates that have a magnitude that add up to eleven. El caused this rod.

These gates also meet at the library where Will died and had a rod-like object in his throat.

Coming back to Angela, Argyle said they don't make wheels out of metal because it would hurt more when people get smacked. Metal like an iron rod? Then ice skates are brought up. Ice is cold like the Upside Down. And this ice would have sliced that nose off! Who doesn't have a nose? Vecna. The gate to the Upside Down sliced his nose off.

Even more interesting when you consider that Angela was originally supposed to be hit with a golf club. This would have been yet another instance of rod imagery! But they still subtly snuck it in there by joking about metal wheels and ice skates after.

Oh and the Angela head whack incident gives El flashbacks the 1979 gate. So there's that.

More rod stuff here! The tightrope (and the pen Mr. Clarke uses), the pencil, and the straw are all rod shaped. They represent the Upside Down. The Upside Down is a transition between the real world and Dimension X. It's the side of the tightrope. You would have to walk through it to reach the other dimension.

Brenner compared the UD to a dam, while Owens compared Will's trauma to floodgates. Not just any old floodgates, neurological ones. Upside Down, gates, neurological, heads! Head thump!

The rod for Will is the Upside Down, not just in a metaphorical sense, in a literal sense. It's going through his head. Literally. The Upside Down is Will's mindscape. When El opened the gate in s1, she basically thumped Will's head. That thump linked Will's mindscape to Dimension X, allowing the monsters to roam free. This is why Will's rod trauma is compared to the gates opening. Will's mindscape is a bridge between dimensions.

It would be really nice if we had some sort of reenactment of this event to tie this all together... oh wait, we do!

Lucas accuses El of making them run around like headless chickens. Headless? Already starting with a head injury mention.

The rest of this scene is basically what happened when El opened the gate. Lucas exclaims that they're looking for a monster, the lab was literally making El look for a monster. El flings Lucas across the junkyard and thumps his head. Then she disappears into the woods. After El opened the gate, she ran away from the lab through the woods. This junkyard scene is so spot on that El regains her memories of the 1983 gate mishap because of it.

These uncovered memories reveal that the demogorgon was eating an egg when El touched it. This egg was found outside of Castle Byers in the UD. Maybe when El opened the 1983 gate, her mind travel slipped a bit, accidentally landing on Will who was sitting in Castle Byers. That slip connected the land of the demogorgon and Will's mindscape, creating the Upside Down we see.

In the VR game, Vecna is told that El is reaching out to him when El visited Will in Castle Byers. Interesting that this was the moment they chose instead of, you know, the scene of El opening the gate via the demogorgon. Time shenanigans?

When Will is hiding out in Castle Byers in the UD, he hears the demogorgon walking outside, but then it suddenly screams and gets quiet. This is just like when El killed the demodog in s2 before entering the Byers house. Parallels. That also parallels the latch unlocking before Will disappeared.

Now this is where it gets really crazy. Something breaks through Castle Byers and the scream sounds nearly identical to El's scream when she opens the gate. What the actual hell? Is there crazy time weirdness going on here and we actually see the exact moment she tapped into Will's mindscape? We hear clock ticking sounds before El touches the demogorgon. This was the moment!

And Vecna had to be there too. He took Will to the library after, the place the s4 gates met up. Both gates caused this (in a time loopy paradox way). Vecna broke Castle Byers, but so did El.

There's also white smokey stuff outside of Castle Byers once it's broken. This looks very similar to the smoke El sees in the void when people disappear. She was in his mindscape. She had to be. Was this Vecna/El disappearing after the gate opened?

So yeah. El linked Will's mind to Dimension X and that's the big mysterious head thump they keep hinting at. It caused Will to have memory loss, personality changes, made his mind stuck in time, put a rod through his head to another dimension, and even sliced Vecna's nose off along the way.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 14.

Summary: Our second look through Oliver's eyes as he thinks back on the night he and Felix get champagne drunk on the bridge, and then when he gets to Saltburn. Looking around both Y/N and Felix's rooms, he gets to know more about them, and finally he meets the Catton Family.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, reader is said/implied to be high for some of the chapter (based on my experiences & understanding of weed)

A/N: 8506 words. you have all deserved a good feed and i am here to provide. sorry it's been a week, the dam broke, things are looking good in my personal life which is nice, and i am BACK on main fic nonsense. we get another Ollie POV, please let me know what you think, im so excited to have everyone at the estate and hanging out!! got big plans going forward!! excited to be setting it all up!! yeah please feedback, my darling friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Sometimes Oliver feels like he was put on this Earth solely to exist in Felix Catton's affectionate gaze. Everything else in life is just filler.

That night on the bridge, he and Felix in suits, drunk on champagne and bathed in the twilight of the evening, will haunt him, he's sure. He welcomes it with open arms, surfacing when his mind is idle and elsewhere. Felix smiling at him, Felix trying to bring him closure even if he doesn't really need it, Felix hanging on his every word, ever story he would fabricate to keep Felix's eyes fixed on him and only him. Felix so close, Felix with his arm around Ollie, Felix's thigh pressed up against his as they sat alone on the edge of the bridge.

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Oliver feels dwarfed by him, never more so than these moments where Felix insists on occupying Oliver's personal space, and then some. But he'll never complain; Felix's affection is intoxicating, addicting even. To be so wrapped up in it, in him, it's bliss, though Oliver never wanted to seem needy for such affection, that's why he waits for these moments, for Felix to make first contact. He wonders if Felix had realised the way you so quickly had in the beginning.

Everyone reaches out for Felix, everyone else appears so desperate. Its why Oliver's always held back from touching him, always waited and let Felix make the first move. Felix was made to be wanted, he basks in it; Oliver gives him the chance to want. Isn't there a thrill in that? A novelty?

And to be wanted by Felix... That was a gift in itself too.

Oliver had, admittedly, been worried that he'd lost his chance at that. After sleeping with you, Felix holding him at arm's length, he could feel his grip slipping. Plucking at the strings of Felix's clear saviour complex was enough to claw back into his life, but he now knew his place was precarious, and most tentative of all was everything about you.

So he'd held back from you. On purpose. Often distinctly, even when you'd give these confused, disheartened looks. He tried not to look at you in those moments; his focus was Felix, Felix seemed harder won.

But when he'd tried to apologise on the bridge - at first he wasn't going to bring it up, but it was dark and he was reasonably drunk and the only person who's ever smiled like Felix had been smiling at him in that moment had been you - Felix had, at first, laughed him off. No, he can feel it now, weighing on him; he needs to balance the scales. He wants Felix so bad it aches in his bones, but Oliver knows his want goes beyond just the beautiful boy by his side. Every part of you, how you interact with the world, interact with him, the way you exist and exude confidence and love, drew Oliver in like a moth to a flame. If Felix is the hook, you were the line. The bait, and the trap. The sun, and it's warmth. He wants to always be the focus of your loving, attentive gaze. Always wants you to want him too.

Oliver is the helpless fly in the web you and Felix have woven, to be so lovingly obsessed with you both as you are, and yet still drawn further in, to love the love you share. He feels trapped and utterly helpless against his feelings for you both.

So he has to make it right. Has to make it... even? Was that how to make it right?

But Felix is different on the bridge. Different to the jealous creature he tried so clearly to hide in the weeks before. Something had changed.

"You never need to apologise for making them happy," he says easily, affectionately. Oliver tries to be insistent, that he never meant to get between the two of you. He's rambling and tipsy, but not enough to miss the faint choked noise of what Oliver could have sworn was intrigue that Felix makes at that, but he knows better than to dwell or comment on it. Instead, Felix claps him on the back; "you wanna make it up to me we can say you owe me one," he says far too easily.

"Owe you one what?" Oliver frowns, playing oblivious for a moment as he takes a sip of the champagne before Felix gives him a cheeky wink and a grin.

"Shag, of course."

Oliver does a spit take with surprise, not having thought Felix would be so casual and genuine about it, almost falling off of the bridge in the moment. Felix catches him, arm around him as he laughs through an apology.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry mate," he wheezes, carefully clapping Ollie on the shoulder, "also I apologise for assuming, poor form, sometimes I forget people can be weird about these things- not saying you'd be weird, we've just never spoken about this kind of thing."

It speaks to how much he must genuinely trust Oliver, considering how light the conversation remains. Or perhaps it's the bubbly. Still, Oliver has a little bit of an inkling about what this kind of thing may be. But part of him needs Felix to say it, to confirm his suspicions, to keep stringing him along with further crumbs of hope.

"Assuming what?"

There's a single moment, the way in which Felix looks at Oliver out of the corner of his eyes, smile briefly frozen on his face as he must be considering the weight of what he's about to say. Its in the moment that follows, when Felix laughs almost self consciously and withdraws his hand that Oliver wonders how out Felix is. Oliver had always just kind of assumed - hoped - on the basis of his relationship with Y/N, but it occurs to him that the general perception of Felix, the talk and rumours and gossip that surrounded him, never really entertained the idea that he was actually queer. Felix's affection towards everyone in his life was simply a by-product of who he was, and you're his best friend - and his cousin, according to Farleigh - so of course you don't count, and otherwise Felix Catton was a known lady's man, right?

Not quite, it seemed.

"That you'd even be into guys like that," it sounds so easy when Felix says it, like Oliver can't see the tension in his shoulders as he reaches over, taking the bottle of champagne back. Its almost empty. Oliver doesn't mind if he finishes it.

Felix looks at the sky, at the stars.

Oliver thinks about the VHS tape of Maurice that he stole from a rental store after looking at the back cover. He'd kept it stashed in his sock drawer and watched every week under the cover of absolute darkness until it literally became unplayable. Yes, Oliver liked guys, and spent his teen years having just as many lewd fantasies about boys with posh accents, and charmingly youthful features, and floppy, brown hair, as he did about girls with big, dark eyes, and high, perfect cheek bones, in bright red wedding dresses. His sisters hated Beetlejuice, thought it was gross, but he and his mother would watch it together on occasion, sharing a blanket his gran had crocheted, and a bowl of popcorn. She'd get all giggly over Alec Baldwin, while Oliver couldn't help but fall for Winona Ryder for the duration of the film, every time.

For a moment, he thinks of the sunlit kitchen he grew up in, and his mother cooking Sunday lunch with a record playing. The last Sunday before he left for Oxford. In the yard, he can hear his father mowing the lawn, and he's sure Emily is in her room packing for her own journey back to her third year of studying. But Oliver comes out of his room just as Jump in Line (Shake Senora) begins to play. Serendipity. Already excited by the song, his mother looks up from the dishes, and practically lights up at the sight of her son. She's going to ask him to dance. He's going to say yes. They're both going to love this moment; she says it's their song, and Oliver dances along to their song. When it's over, Oliver won't admit that he's disappointed it had to end, but he tells his mother he'll miss her too when she hugs him especially tightly. For that one moment he hadn't ached to leave the way he'd been for months, for years.

Looking now at the rock in the rubbish that represented his father, there's a momentary pang of guilt for lying so dramatically about him he hadn't been expecting. So he pushes it out of his mind.

Felix finishes the bottle, and Oliver watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Effortlessly beauty.

Oliver wants to focus on his future, not his past.

"Haven't got too much experience with 'em, but that doesn't stop me from liking them well enough," feeling especially bold, he levels a sly smile at Felix, "so if it's all good with you, maybe we do say I owe you one."

Felix blushes the most beautiful scarlet as he barks a loud, pleased laugh. But most importantly, he relaxes.

"It's not that hard," he offers so nonchalantly, amending with a sheepish grin, "well it is, that's part of the point -" but Oliver can't help himself.

"I said I didn't have a lot of experience, didn't say I was completely inexperienced."

"No, I know," Felix's voice turns all smug and teasing, and Oliver can feel his face beginning to heat up as he realised the implications of Felix's tone, "I've heard rave reviews." Oliver had taken the time to have his fun, to have a few hook ups here and there in the past year, usually with girls or guys from town or other campuses who had no idea who he was otherwise. There's only one person who'd be giving him rave reviews, as Felix had called them.

Huh. It's quite the compliment; he had gone out of his way to give you the kind of attention he suspected few people ever bestowed upon you, but rave reviews? What had you actually told Felix?

Instead, considering that this still feels like potentially rocky territory, he tries to bring it back.

"It's one of the few ways I ever really learned how to make people feel appreciated," his gaze drops with his tone, and hopes that Felix takes the bait. The threads that tie back to the story of his unfortunate upbringing, but also perhaps the threads that subconsciously tie his attitude and behaviour to you in Felix's mind. Even if you don't say it, he knows it's part of how you operate, and he's willing to bet that Felix had picked up on that too.

It works. Felix wraps an arm around him, assuring him that he has so much to offer the world. God, he sounds so sincere when he says it; if Oliver hadn't knowingly baited him into the compliment, he would have believed him entirely. At the very least he basks in how good it is to hear Felix say.

They talk through the night, Oliver tentatively feeling his way towards his goal, the opportunity to spend Summer with Felix too, to make sure this connection doesn't wither in the interim. Of course he plays at being humble, at refusing the offer despite how clearly uninhabitable the sob story home he'd made up for himself was, but just as he'd predicted, Felix, ever the saviour, refuses to take no for an answer. Apparently his mother has people stay for months at a time anyhow. Oliver wonders idly if that's where Felix got it from.

"Y/N will be so pleased, I can tell you that," Felix mentioned with fondness. Of course Oliver had anticipated that you would probably be spending at least some of your Summer with them, but he's surprised that when he enquires further, Felix admits, "yeah they live with me at Saltburn when we're not at school, have for ages now."

"What, all the time? They really are a ward of the Saltburn Estate?"

Felix wears a strange little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes; there's an unfamiliar kind of melancholy that doesn't look quite right on him, Oliver thinks, as Felix shrugs again.

"Some people's parents just aren't meant to be parents."

For a split second Oliver feels a rush of guilt as he comes to realise he may have fabricated a life for himself that you had actually lived. In the moment, however, he dips his head, a sign that he understands, that he agrees.

"Then we're lucky to have you."

Felix throws an arm around his shoulders, pulls him in tightly and presses a kiss to the side of his head, assuring him it's no trouble at all.

"What are friends for?"

Yes, this moment would be burned into his brain; Felix so warm beside him, Felix smiling against his temple, Felix champagne drunk and willing to share his life, if only for six weeks. Every fibre of Oliver's being is willing it to work out, willing it to be more than just these six weeks -

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Except the minute he knocks on the doors of the house that looms so large he feels like he's about to be swallowed whole by it, he feels like he's failed a test. The look in the terrifying doorman's eyes, his tone of voice, the unflinching scrutiny when faced with Oliver's continual awkwardness and questions, makes him feel like he's failed several more in rapid succession.

Oliver's actually pretty sure he's never been quite so glad to see Felix as the exact moment he calls out to Oliver with absolute joy. Which is saying something. It's never felt like Felix is judging him, at least not in a way he can't pass. Thank fuck. Felix, in this moment, is the only one who matters, he tells himself.

That being said, Oliver had been expecting you to be by Felix's side when he'd come bounding in to save him from Duncan's scrutiny. That's generally where he's come to expect you. Not that he wasn't grateful for Felix giving the tour, it was just... unexpected.

Honestly, when you appear from a door on the other side of the long gallery, opposite Felix's bedroom, Oliver's surprised by how relieved he is to see you. The room you've exited seems to be themed in pale purple from the brief glimpse Oliver sees, and you've got a leather bound folder in your arms, but neither of those is nearly so interesting as the look in your eyes. Looking back, Oliver sees Felix lounging in his doorframe, looking between you both with patient amusement.

"Ollie!"

Oliver's pretty sure no-one in his life has ever sounded this excited to see him. The only person who comes closes would be Felix, five minutes ago.

"Ollie, oh Ollie - Fi, hold this," you pass off your folder to Felix, who of course takes it without argument, before Oliver's swept up in a tight hug, "you're early, you smell nice," you hug him so enthusiastically the two of you spin for a moment, before pulling back, holding him at arm's length like you're assessing the state of him. Instead, you beam, holding his hands as you turned to Felix, "Fi, Ollie's here! We love Ollie!"

This time when you meet Oliver's gaze, he's surprised to see not just love, but want. You'd worn that look in the weeks before the two of you had fucked, like all you could think about was how you'd once begged him to want you, and how he of course admitted he did. When had he started missing this look in your eyes? All he can think about is that night in the warmth of your bed, the way you'd sounded so fucking certain and needy - of course I want you - and how he can see it in your eyes again now. For a moment his mind and resolve is fuzzy; why had he ever stopped reaching out for you?

"We do love Ollie," Felix agreed with further amusement, and that's when he remembers. Except... this isn't the jealous version of Felix that had shown up in the aftermath. This was the Felix who'd brushed off Oliver's apologies about the whole ordeal on the bridge and proceeded to overtly, if jokingly, flirt with him. Already he feels just a touch more relaxed in this new dynamic that was being set up for the Summer.

Actually, Oliver, for just a second, thinks he may have died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck, Ollie, look at your nails," he hears next, however, and it immediately shatters the illusion as he pulls his hands away from you and your judgemental eyes.

"Don't be mean," Felix chides, and you look up with surprised, as if you hadn't realised your own less than complimentary tone. Looking between Oliver and Felix, there's apology in your eyes.

"Sorry Ollie," you're quick to offer, and he awkwardly tries to act like he's not embarrassed, "I'll give you a manicure, I can paint your nails; we can match!" You smiled brightly, hands pressed flat and warm to his chest all of a sudden, "I match Fi's shirt today; Farleigh painted my nails -" your eyes go wide as if you'd just remembered; "Farleigh; shit."

You run for the door to the blue room. Oliver, deeply confused, watches you go. Then, he hears Felix sigh with fond exasperation, holding out the leather folder. A moment later you burst through the door again.

"Documents. Shit. Thanks, Fi!"

And you're off again.

"Is this... how they normally are just at Saltburn?" Oliver finally asks with faint concern, looking from the door to Felix in the darkened doorframe.

"My lovely cousin is an atrocious influence on our dear Y/N," Felix said with incredible diplomacy. But Oliver's mind momentarily catches on the wording.

Our Y/N.

Just like before, a strange thrill, a rush; he remembers the look in your eyes when he'd first said 'Our Felix' to you. An exclusive kind of possessive, one you'd willingly share with Oliver. He liked this dynamic, he wondered how hard he'd have to push it to get beyond the simple semantics.

We love Ollie!

We do love Ollie.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult at all.

"What do you mean?" He asks instead, and Felix turns to him with that same amused smile.

"They're fine, don't worry mate, they're just high is all," clearly Felix's feelings are mixed on the subject; Oliver knows he has no problems with getting high himself, so he suspects Felix cares more about Oliver's first impressions of his home and his family than he was wanting to let on. You were his right hand after all. There's something endearing about how much he seems to want Oliver to want to be here. Which he does, for the record.

"So this is your room?" Oliver enquires, shooting for brightness, despite the momentary awkwardness. He watches the tension leave Felix's shoulders. It's enough for Oliver, and his gaze drifts, roams around and tries to catalogue every single piece of Felix he can glean from the clutter. Even with an army of servants there's something unkempt about how he decorates the otherwise old and ornate space. CDs he'll spend time poring over, stacks of books, and trinkets, and tchotchkes. Felix even has a balcony; stone railings and enough decorative chairs, and even a lounge and small table, for company.

Here and there in the room itself, however, a few things seem out of place; shoes that didn't look like Felix's sitting neatly by the door, two dressing gowns, one maroon and tossed over the bed, the other in navy and draped more deliberately over the end of the bed. Two glasses of water, one on either side of the bed. Tell-tale signs that clue Oliver in before Felix even confirms it -

"Mine and Y/N's, yeah," he says it so easily, so nonchalantly, no bothering with pretence here at Saltburn, "you'll be staying just next door," Felix continues on with a wide, easy smile over his shoulder as he continued to flit through the rooms, catching light, voice echoing amongst the decorative walls.

"Bathroom," he offers, before turning, adding, "we're going to be sharing a bathroom, by the way, I hope you don't mind," and Oliver finds himself drawn to the sight of the ornate bath, as if on purposeful display in the middle of the room, "otherwise you'd be miles away on the other end of the house," Felix explains, continuing on without even considering his words as he says them. No, of course Oliver didn't mind.

All Oliver can think of is everything that simple sentence implied. Closeness. Implicit want. A sudden flash in Oliver's mind as Felix continues through to the dressing room, of sweat beading along skin and hands clutching desperately at the cool, porcelain edge of the tub, of water sloshing and spilling and overflowing, and the sound of breathless moaning -

He tries to focus, tries to simply watch Felix's hands as he taps idly on the red walls of the dressing room as he lead into what Oliver can only assume to be his room. He stays out of his head, leans into the moment, and lets himself relax as Felix gestures broadly, brightly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Your room!"

It's bright, all wide, open windows looking over the beautiful grounds of Saltburn, honey coloured wood and lamps that glow in such a way that he was reminded of Oxford. Already someone's brought his suitcase up, set it out at the end of the bed; he'd get to unpacking that later tonight, for now he took his time relaxing into the space. Felix had already sat himself down, seemingly at home in the old, wooden rocking chair, watching Oliver, almost like he was trying to hide his nervous anticipation.

"I'm really glad you're here, mate," for just a moment, Felix sounds more honest than he'd been since Oliver had arrived. There's something in his eyes that Oliver hadn't been anticipating, in the brief moment in which their gazes meet. There's a kind of arrogance, Oliver thinks, to calling even a sliver of it something like love, but it's adoration and appreciation nonetheless. It's gone in a flash, too brief to be anything serious, he thinks once more as Felix stands, "right, I will, er... I'll leave you to it."

And Oliver is quiet. It's a kind of reverence, or perhaps it reads like shock and awe at the whole place, but he listens quietly as Felix tells him about his mother's aversion to stubble and ugliness and piercings and -

"Anything else I should know about?" Finally he asks, sensing Felix was close to rambling on a nervous tangent. Thankfully, Felix actually seems relieved by the interruption, assuring him that there was nothing else to worry about.

Felix tells Oliver that he just needs to be himself, that his family will love him. That it's relaxed. Oliver loves Felix dearly, but doubts he, a man who rarely seems to be anything but relaxed, would be the best judge of that. Especially in a place like this. Still, Oliver smiles like he believes him, and watches the way Felix hangs himself back from the door on his heels, almost like a little kid, telling Oliver that his family will be in the library when he's ready.

Library?

His mental image of Saltburn grows with each moment. Soon it will overwhelm him, he's sure.

So he tries, just for the moment, to get acquainted with the room he's been given. His own, honey-coloured piece of Saltburn, if only for the Summer. Hopefully beyond, that dreamy little voice of want whispers in the back of his mind. Another flash of desire runs through him, the image of a quiet evening on Felix's balcony, a purple sky and a glass of scotch, book in one hand and Felix's head in his lap. He'd be too big for the little sofa, legs hanging off the edge, but he's comfortably fallen asleep with Oliver's fingers carding through his hair; when you drape yourself over Oliver's shoulders, there's loving affection in the way you call them 'your boys' -

God he'd been entertaining these fantasies for months, sure, almost since he'd met you and Felix, but never this vivid, never so detailed or hard to push away, to pretend like he'd never had them when he next tries to look you both in the eyes.

Yeah, me and Y/N's room. You're right next door. We'll be sharing a bathroom.

This is either going to be a dream, or the hardest Summer of his life. Pun entirely intended.

The room itself is rather charming, once Oliver finally breaks free of his own fantasies. Charming in a different way to the rest of the house, but in a way that was hard to put his finger on at first. Saltburn was like if a place could put on a performance of itself, none of it felt lived in, or at least, not for a very long time. Except Felix's room, it had his youth and carelessness that gave it a feeling of home, as, for some reason, did Oliver's.

Except then he sees them. Then he understands. There's space stickers on the top drawer of what he can only assume is the otherwise expensive bedside table. Some are peeled off, some even leaving the ugly, half-peeled, paper residue of planets and stars and little cartoon astronauts. The second of the two drawers is in much the same state, but depicting a faded sea creature theme. It's so unexpectedly, joyfully childish. There's two books in the top drawer, a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories, and a copy of Emma. Oliver swallows hard, trying not to wonder what you must mean by that. Otherwise the drawers are empty, almost hotel-like in it's severe starkness.

There's other little things, however. Fairy lights curled up and around the headboard that glow a comforting, warm white once he finds their switch. A digital clock at odds with the rest of the room's aesthetics, red numbers glowing in the afternoon light. The painting on the wall above the bookshelf that looks far more modern than anything else he'd seen so far on the walls, a rich, blue night sky glittering with stars, and a dreamy silhouette of a figure with a cigarette almost glowing orange against the darkness. Despite the vagueness of the figure, there's a comfort, a kind of love with which they'd been captured that Oliver can somehow feel in his chest when he looks at it.

The little bookshelf itself in the corner is filled with titles he can imagine you specifically enjoying, but a few anomalies here and there - books on botany and Edwardian flower code stick out in particular. It's completed with a small stack of CDs and a CD player gathering dust on top. When he crouches down, however, he's surprised to see an old, portable cassette deck taking up space on the bottom row of the bookshelf, mostly hidden behind several stacks of what appeared to be blank cassette tapes, crammed into the very corner, almost out of sight.

How strange. How... human.

There is an echo of someone else in this room, but to his relief, it feels like you. For the barest moment, he almost feels like he's already home.

It's a short-lived feeling, however, as Felix's words come back to him once more. His reflection in the bathroom mirror as he carefully rids himself of even the barest traces of stubble, doesn't meet the standards he's sure the mother of Felix Catton must hold.

Oliver's never considered himself particularly beautiful, nor did pretty much anyone else, it had always seemed. His mother was of course biased, Felix was filled with too much affection to be considered anywhere near reliable about that sort of things, and you - something inside Oliver squirms almost with embarrassment for even thinking so poorly of himself in the past few moments. Maybe a face like his would make Felix's mum happy, if the look in your eyes meant anything, every time you saw him.

Oliver chooses to leave the way he was brought in, taking a long few moments in Felix's room, leaving it untouched, undisturbed, but treating it like a museum to his best friend, clues about his life he couldn't glean from conversation alone. Felix's bookshelves were bigger than yours, stacked with comics amid countless fantasy and adventure books, but a surprising number of cowboy and western titles, though it's not as if there appears to be any kind of sorting system. There's a ceramic bowl that looks hand made, full of faded wristbands for events all over the world for the past five years. There's a shoebox that apparently used to hold a pair of lady's runners, now sitting at the end of one row that now has 'A Stupid Box For Feefs Stupid Rocks <3' sharpied on top in handwriting he doesn't recognise. A thick textbook about space on the bottom shelf with a cracked, worn spine and sticky tabs seeming to note various pages, various guitar tab books for different, popular bands that Felix would definitely be interested in. Four decks of cards stacked on top of each other, boxes looking so worn and used they were practically falling apart.

For a very long time, Oliver finds himself caught, looking at the little cork board full of photos leaning on top of the bookshelf. Countless photos of Felix, Farleigh, Venetia, and Y/N throughout the years. He hadn't realised just how long you and Felix had even known each other. How long you'd practically been a fixture at Saltburn in the Summer. There's a photo of the four of you all in your bathers, laying asleep on the grass beside the lake, all next to each other on brightly coloured towels, none of you could have been older than twelve; you fit right in along with the rest of them.

There's a photo strip, the kind taken in a booth at a mall or a museum, that Oliver thinks he recognises, but it takes him a long moment of staring at it to figure out why. It's you and Felix, and the strip itself says it's from an aquarium. Smiling. Laughing. You blurry, covering your laughter as Felix looks particularly goofy and pleased with himself, as if he'd just told a stupid joke. The last one has been ripped off.

Oh. Right. He'd seen it while snooping through Felix's wallet a few months ago; the photo had been the reason he'd put the wallet back at all. The way the two of you were kissing in the final photo, so wrapped up in each other, and love, and joy, had made Oliver feel almost physically sick with both want and jealousy.

God, he has to leave, has to stop snooping again and actually find this library and the rest of the Cattons.

Walking through Saltburn's many rooms alone makes Oliver feel like he's constantly out of bounds at a museum. There's hints of life throughout the building, but they're few and far between compared to the ornamental, carefully curated decorations of each room. Even the hints of the Cattons themselves seemed... too purposeful. The little, animated 'Catton Family Players' puppet show is the kind of thing only rich, whimsical weirdos could ever think was charming, and not just bizarre, vain, and haunting in the same way that porcelain dolls were.

But then he hears laughter, and warm chatter from down a hall, and the tinny, purposeful shouting from what could only be a movie or TV show. It sounds so much like his own family's living room on a cheerful evening that it's almost relaxing. Almost.

Because as he's approaching, he realises they're talking about him. They're picking apart the life he'd fed Felix as if it were mere gossip, speaking so airily, their sentiment so clearly out of touch that he'd probably find it amusing if he didn't have to pretend to be living it. Briefly, he wonders if they spoke like this about your life, or if the novelty of you had worn off in the years before. Perhaps you were just glad they could focus their pity and unapologetic classicism on someone else for a change; he couldn't hear you in there, which surprised him. Maybe part of him had expected you to defend him the way you had back at Oxford. Maybe you don't feel like you can at Saltburn. At least Felix sounds embarrassed, irritated as he admonishes Farleigh for having told the rest of the family.

Before he enters the library where the rest of the family has gathered, Oliver pauses by the door, both to get a better idea of what they're already thinking about him, but also because he'd spotted someone watching him from one of the adjacent rooms.

Bleach blonde hair, stars clinging to the tights on her legs, she's reading a book that Oliver can't quite see the cover of. Venetia was written on the collar of the little, blonde puppet in the Catton Family Players; Oliver suspects this is her. Oliver thinks she could be considered very beautiful, if she didn't seem quite so sharp. The way she huffs a laugh and wears a dangerously amused smile after she'd taken her own time in analysing him seems to prove as much. That being said, Oliver's not sure if she's laughing at something about him, or about the fact that they can both clearly hear her family's disparaging remarks about his apparent upbringing.

"Farleigh seems to think he's ghastly," Oliver hears a woman say as his hand comes to rest on the door handle, "why are you and our dear pet even friends with him, darling?"

"Dirt poor, not attractive, and his parents are drug addicts," a second woman's voice seems to surmise as Oliver lets himself into the room, "I can't actually -" but Felix makes a noise as he sees the door opening, and the woman goes quiet as Oliver peers in.

"And here he is now," Farleigh sounds as thrilled as he ever was to see Oliver, "we were just talking about you," like he's trying his best to make Oliver feel as unwelcome as possible. It's... kind of working. Bastard. However looking over at him does solve one mystery; you and Farleigh are sharing a sofa at the back of the room that's only just big enough for the both of you as long as you're tucked up against him, his arm slung over the back of the chair behind you.

And you're fast asleep against him.

The blonde woman on the sofa who shares Felix's elegant, effortless beauty admonishes Farleigh, even though Oliver can tell from her voice she was one of the ones very much talking about him only moments before. Oliver has the grace to pretend like he hadn't heard, though is still glad for the vaguely embarrassed, apologetic look Felix is already giving him.

This has to be Felix's mother, the blonde with the airy voice who immediately gets up to greet him, to assess him.

"Oh, what beautiful eyes," oh thank god, "oh, how wonderful!" There's genuine surprise and adoration in the way Felix's mother regards him, and Oliver can't help but feel relieved, like he's finally passed the first of what he's sure will be many tests during his life at the Saltburn estate.

"Yeah, we told you he wasn't a minger," Felix pointed out when his mother turns to him.

"Oh, but darling, you and pet are kind about everyone; neither of you can be trusted about those you're fond of." Pet? Does she mean Y/N? Suddenly Farleigh's comments over the months make a strange amount of sense. At the very least Oliver's heart begins to sing at the idea of you and Felix speaking so kindly of him to the others that they know you're both especially fond of him... And you both seem to think he's beautiful enough that you mention it when he's not around. Huh.

But yes, the moment the woman explains her aborrance of ugliness Oliver knows he's talking to Felix's mother. At least she seems to like him well enough, going so far as to ask if he'd seen Venetia yet, that even she'd been dying to see him, but had chosen to drape herself around the house as if laying in wait for him. Indeed that's how it had seemed when he'd spotted her earlier, but none of them have let Oliver get a word in edgewise.

Felix's father is the next to introduce himself, all long limbs and warm handshake to match his smile, just like his son. When he asks Oliver about his trip to the estate, Oliver finally breathes, can finally respond.

"Oh, God, don't with the 'sirs'," Felix's mother waves him over to sit down, insisting, "no, no, no, we can't stand anything like that here," though her outburst seems to have been enough to rouse you. As Oliver sits, he hears, syrupy and warm with sleep from behind him -

"Ollie!" As you had each time since he's arrived, you sound so genuinely delightful. Farleigh makes a noise in the back of his throat. Oliver turns in time to see you elbow Farleigh in the ribs.

"I liked you better when you were asleep."

"Fars," your voice drops low, like a warning, and Oliver's surprised by how sharply Farleigh looks away, jaw clenching tightly, "be good." Oliver almost thinks Farleigh might be angry, but then he sees the gentle way Farleigh's holding your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles against your upper arm; from what Oliver can see, he realises Farleigh's expression is almost embarrassed -

"Children, stop bickering," Felix's mother orders brightly, and your expression returns to unbothered and chipper as you refocus on Oliver.

"Hi Ollie," again, then as more of an offer to the rest of the room, "isn't he just lovely?" Oliver flushes, but gives you a fond smile, even as you settle back against Farleigh. Even though Farleigh persists with glaring at him, when he turns back, he rests his cheek against your head, oozing malevolence as he seemingly tucks himself against you too. But he does indeed remain quiet.

After the altercation passes, Oliver gets a brief introduction to one of the other house guests at Saltburn, Pamela, brief being the operative word as she's quickly sent away to ask about tea from one of the staff members at Felix's mother's insistence. Pamela herself doesn't exactly seem confident in the task, but that's once again when you speak up. Much to Oliver's surprise, you give a detailed physical description of the woman - Annie - and succinct directions to the kitchen itself, following it up with a yawn and -

"The Irish one, a bit mousy, might have trouble meeting your gaze but she's nice enough."

Pamela looks far more confident thanks to your directions. Oliver's genuinely shocked at your level of detail and knowledge, but everyone else seems to be so casually used to it.

"She is a bit like that, isn't she?" Felix's mother muses with an idle air, and when Oliver glances back at you, you still have your eyes closed, as if close to falling back asleep, while Farleigh has his faint, fond laughter pressed against your temple.

Before Oliver can even reckon with the moment that had just come to pass, Felix's mother is regaling him with all of Pamela's dirty laundry, before she dives right into pitying Oliver himself, and the sob story of his life and most recent 'tragedy' she's heard.

She looks at him just the same way Felix had. He think of the moment he'd decided to commit to this Dickensian kayfabe, that day in the pub when Felix's eyes were fixed on him, all pity and desire and a desperate need to fix, to save, to be a light in Oliver's life. The way this woman speaks, the way she looks at him in this moment, makes Felix Catton make total and complete sense. Something inside Oliver relaxes; she would not be hard won.

As they circle back around to the tragedy of poor Pamela, however, something about what Farleigh says, pointing out that the tragedy of her was the only interesting thing about her, sticks in the back of Oliver's mind.

Being beautiful and tragic would only ever get him so far, would only ever make him a novelty. It takes another glance back at you for him to realise a little more of why you behaved the way you did; tragic and beautiful and useful. That's the thought that turns over in his mind, even as Felix's mother starts her line of questioning about the sordid details of his upbringing, and Venetia joins them only to stare at him like a bug, and Farleigh only seems to be holding himself back from outright contempt at your behest. You are once again asleep. At least Felix makes a token effort to reprimand his mother, not that it appears to make much of a difference.

Oliver offers what little he can get away with, and feels only relief when Felix insists they start getting ready for dinner. Oliver practically bolts, he doesn't even wait for Felix like he probably should have, just desperately hoping he's got the right door to his own room. Clearly he has, swearing when he's finally in his little piece of sanctuary, but after a beat he realises that even that has been breached.

His suitcase is no longer at the foot of his bed.

In another moment, the door that connects his room to the bathroom squeaks open and there's two more people in his room without bothering to even knock. At least Felix is apologising for his mother. Part of Oliver thinks he should have expected the Cattons to be exactly as out of touch as this house implied, that he should have braced himself better, that it's not Felix's fault, but the apology is still nice.

Also he's rather distracted by the fact that all of his clothes have been organised neatly in the old, wooden cupboard.

"Did someone unpack my suitcase?" Oliver hears himself ask distractedly. Looking back when Felix makes a noise of guilt, he sees Felix sitting on the edge of his bed with an apologetic smile, and you next to him, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

"Uh, shit, yes, I should have told you," Felix admits, "they do that kind of thing here." Rich, whimsical weirdos, the lot of them, "the maids all report back to mum, by the way," Felix informs him, while you're just quietly swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. Felix's tone turns teasing, however, "so I hope you didn't pack anything scandalous." Oliver leans on the wooden foot of the bed, into Felix's space with an amused smile at the thought - pushing his luck, pushing into Felix's space to play off of the idea of scandal, so close to Felix and his mischievous smile. Felix leans back, the tease, giving Oliver space to quietly say -

"Just my old boxers."

You snicker. Felix grins.

"No, they're used to that, don't worry," but then Felix is up again, almost too close, looking at Oliver like he knows this is all some kind of joke, like he know - like he wants Oliver to keep looking at him, at his teasing smile, at his lips like that, "Duncan will be thrilled." Like this is all a game. Oliver snorts a laugh.

But the moment doesn't last, and Felix is moving again, getting up, telling Oliver a new rule - ahead of time this time. Dinner at Saltburn is an event you dress for, with the kind of dress code that requires a dinner jacket and cuff links and - Oliver would be properly embarrassed if it didn't mean he got to wear Felix's spare jacket. Felix seems almost embarrassed by it all, his casual nature clearly butting heads with the formality of his heritage. In this moment he almost seems childish, it's rather sweet. Judging by your smile, you're endeared by his behaviour without even having to see it; you hadn't even thought to sit up; your eyes have fallen closed, as if basking in this moment.

Oliver watches you, the way you radiate contentment. You were not born into Saltburn, but you'd made it your home. You'd won the love of Felix Catton, and a place in his life, that no-one else had managed to achieve. Hope was a beautiful thing, and you were both in this moment.

"I'm really happy you're here, Ol," Felix finally murmured, and finally Oliver believes him, "I'm sorry everything's so... old fashioned."

"No," Oliver's voice is soft, "it's wonderful."

The pleased smile Felix wears as he heads through to his own room makes everything about this strange, ritualistic, obsessive, critical world worth it. Over his shoulder, he asks if you'll be coming through too, and you tell him you'll catch up in a second. Felix closes the door over quietly, and after a moment, Oliver joins you, laying back on the bed.

"I like your room," Oliver breaks the silence after a moment. After a moment, a hum that's more like a contented laugh escapes you. You mumble a thanks; it's been a few hours since he'd seen you initially, your chatter had died down considerably, it seemed like you'd sobered up a good deal in the afternoon that had just passed.

There's a million things Oliver wants to say in this moment, things he wants to do, questions he has about you, about Felix, about Saltburn.

"It's not-" he finally starts, voice so soft as he finally turns to you, "it wasn't your fault, by the way."

When you turn to meet his gaze, there's surprise and confusion in your eyes, clearly not sure what he was referring to. Its been a long time now since he'd deliberately reached out for you, since you'd slept together, since Felix had first started giving him resentful looks. Things are better now. Much better.

"What?"

All it takes is a deliberate, gentle touch, his hand taking yours, apology in his eyes. Its enough to acknowledge that he'd spent time pulled away from you, that you weren't crazy to think that, and that you weren't at fault.

Oliver's always liked watching you process things, at least when you allow the world to see it happen on your face, not making an effort to hide it. You look down at his hand on yours, grip loose like more of a reassurance; raising your joined hands like you can't quite believe the sight, he takes the opportunity to link your fingers. It wasn't your fault.

Looking deliberately back at the ceiling, he gives you the time and space to process this development without feeling so watched.

"Oh," you mumble quietly, finally, "it's..." you give his hand a squeeze, "thanks?" Oliver smiles, and knows you see it, can see in his peripheries the way you're watching him now, but when he goes to withdraw his hand, you hold him tighter for just a beat, as if on instinct, before you let him go.

"Can I be bold for a moment?" He breaks the moment, breaks the tension, voice light and inquisitive.

"I like your boldness, Ollie, you know that," you respond automatically, matching his energy easily. Sitting up, Oliver turns to fix you with a scrutinising look for a long moment, and you wait, you watch him with eyebrows raised and an amused smile painted across your lips.

"You're sleeping with Farleigh," it's not a question. Your smile grows wider and far more smug.

"Ollie - Oliver - look at me," you prop yourself up on one elbow, gesturing down at your body, "look at where we are," you gesture around at the bedroom itself, "how many Summers do you think unrelated teenagers in close proximity, growing steadily more attractive with each passing year, can get through without ending up deciding to fuck to pass the time?"

Oliver, charmed by your blunt confidence, can't help but laugh, while also being able to connect enough dots to the implication that he should expect you to be just as close to Felix's sister too. You join him in his laughter, finally sitting yourself up. Oliver knocks his knee with yours, deliberate, and watches with a kind of fondness as you immediately focus on the moment of brief contact. You'd missed him, just as he'd anticipated.

But the laughter dies down, and you finally stand, sighing that you should probably get yourself ready for dinner too. Before stepping away, you lean back down with a wide, goofy smile that reminds Oliver a bit of Felix, and gently grasp his chin, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Oliver, a little startled by the gesture but welcoming it nonetheless, feels want burn through his veins momentarily as he watches you head to the door.

"Oh, Ollie, there's some stuff under the sink for you," you yawned and stretched and Oliver tried desperately not to stare at the way your shirt rode up, "shampoo, toothpaste, contacts; junk like that, you know, just in case." Wait, what was that last one?

"Contacts?"

"Yeah," like it was perfectly fucking reasonable, your hand on the door, "in case you didn't bring any or you ran out - there's actually a spare pair of glasses as well, if you'd prefer. Same frames as yours, I wasn't sure-"

"You know my prescription?"

"Yeah?"

"How...?"

You go quiet. You shrug. Its not a real answer.

Right; a magician never reveals their secrets. Its not particularly reassuring for a man lying about a large portion of his life.

For now Oliver just tries to remind himself of the way you look at him, the way you want him, the way he loves you, for who you are, for all you can do.

"Thank you," he says quietly, gives you a smile and hopes you believe it, "you're good to me." He's not sure what about that surprises you, but he catalogues this in the back of his mind. There's something beautiful and, he suspects, rare, about catching you off guard. But your next words are enough to return the favour, have his heartbeat in his ears, hopeful and quick as a humming bird right before you leave.

"Of course I am, Ollie, I love you."

And he's not sure why, but he believes you.

[madhatterbri]

Bully | F.B.

Summary: Can I actually request a Finn Balor x reader fic?. Y/N and Grace are backstage at summerslam, watching Damian's match. Grace gets upset when her daddy goes out and "bullies" her uncle Dami and she ends up giving Finn the silent treatment. Happy ending please.

Requested by anon.

Taglist: @theworldofotps @magicalbuttertarts @mrsarcherofinfamy @judgmentalunicornghost @smallestsnarkestgirl

"Mommy?" Grace asked with a horrified look on her face. Her eyes were wide. The child's bottom lip quivered. She just witnessed her dad betray her uncle Dam in front of thousands of people. "Why did daddy do that?"

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew this was going to happen. Finn warned her about it. Grace's mother tried all night to get her to sleep before this match. Hopped up on cotton candy and other assorted sweets, the child wasn't going down anytime soon.

Grace clung to her mom when she saw the sinister look on her dad's face. He looked absolutely evil. Tears filled Grace's eyes. When Damian grabbed her daddy, it was all over. Tears ran down her face. The small child buried her head in mother's chest.

Y/N apologized and took her to some where more quiet. The confused child kept asking her mother why. Grace's tiny little world felt like it was falling apart. Time ticked away, and soon Finn met up with them. The tears had stopped, but now Grace was angry.

"Hey, sweetheart. Mommy said no to something for you?" Finn asked playfully. He tickled her side. Grace whined and pushed his hands away. Her arms crossed over her body. Bottom lip pouted outwards. Her eyes were still wet from the tears. Finn turned to Y/N. His eyebrows were furrowed as he waited for an explanation.

"She saw what happened," Y/N told him simply.

"I warned you about that," Finn sighed and threw his hands in the air. Despite being a mini bully herself to Demon, Grace hated bullies. She would often stand up to them in the classroom just to then bully them for the rest of the week.

"You decided to give her every sugary product in this arena! How was I supposed to get her to fall asleep?" Y/N asked.

Minutes passed as Finn tried to get Grace to talk to him. She would scoot away from him or turn away. Even Y/N tried to help with the situation, but it was no use. Finally, Finn had an idea. He grabbed his phone and texted someone.

"There's the big man," Finn smiled when he saw Damian walking towards them.

"I got your message. Oh, is my biggest fan upset?" The Archer of Infamy asked.

Grace looked up at him. She reached her arms up to hug him. "I'm sorry for what my daddy did to you,"

"It's okay. Your daddy and I talked about it. He was just jealous cause you said that I'm your favorite," Damian chuckled. He hugged Grace and rubbed her back.

"You are my favorite. I want you to be champion again," she whined.

"And one day I will be. Imagine if your daddy gets to be champion one day. You'll get to play with the belt all day and even bring it to school,"

"Really?" She asked. "And I can show it to my dolls at tea time?"

"Absolutely. Hey, the next time you have a tea party. Make Daddy wear makeup for me, yeah?" He asked.

An evil grin appeared on the child's face. "I promise,"

"I have to go to talk to the boss. I'm sure Daddy will get you a belt now to make up for your heartache," Damian chuckled. Finn shot him a glare but stopped when his daughter's eyes lit up.

"Please, Daddy," she begged and crossed her fingers in a prayer. Her blue eyes stared into his, and it was over. The man would always crumble at the sight.

"Let's go," he sighed.

Grace raised her arms to be held by him. He scooped her up in his arms and walked with her. She kissed his cheek and snuggled into him. "I love you, Daddy,"

[thepoisonjackal]

Do you have any headcanons or concepts of how houses would look for each tribe? I’m always so curious about what people think

Sure I can write some thoughts! I might doodle these later but I'm not the biggest fan of drawing buildings so we'll see. This is all coming from my OC Universe, but it's mostly consistent with canon too.

Skywing: It's said they like caves, so commoners and nomads probably just find whatever random cave they can find. If they actually take the time to build it, maybe they could carve out more intricate rooms, windows, pillars and carvings, and maybe the richer ones could get wood for balconies/struts/furniture. If they're built from the ground up, mostly a lot of stone work, stained glass for richer homes, tall pillars, not a lot of stairs (more for flying in and out) so a lot of open areas and big doors/windows to fly out of if needed.

Mudwing: Although the poorest live in those packed mud hut things, the common house is a beaver dam thing with an underwater entrance, an underground basement (though not very big) with more of a terracotta/brick based structure above ground. They're very warm and very open plan, not individual rooms per se but more of a big ol studio for all the sibs to live in. And you'd get a bunch of these in a village. The richer could probably afford wood stilts to get raised houses outside of the water made of wood, though not every mudwing prefers that because they like the mud to sleep in. So it's more of a merchant stall type thing rather than somewhere you sleep. The palace would be a mix of wood and terracotta brick, with a lot of water features.

Icewings: Most icewing houses are igloos or underground bunker type things. It also depends on where you're at. In the more mountainous areas, they could probably make relatively simple stone buildings that look more like fortresses/fortified castles, with snow and ice being used as mortar inbetween the stones. The rich houses and palaces though are in the heart of the ice kingdom, where it's coldest, and the houses are made of pure ice, either carved or made with frostbreath. Wood isn't the best for the cold, so they wouldn't bother importing it.

Seawings: Underwater, it's mostly underwater caves, or coral reef areas. They might be able to bring around some stones to create a little hut out of, but they're usually nothing super elaborate. Houseboats are popular for merchants because they can move their stuff around and catch the attention of swimming seawings. On land, on the shores, they would use stone and wood that they can get near the shore and from the sea. They're usually nothing super fancy or crazy, just functional for seawings who have business on the land more than they do the water. The palace would be in a coral reef area, with a lot of underwater/underground rooms. There would be a little bit above ground for when non-seawings visit, but its not used very much if there's not guests.

Rainwings: Pretty much just what canon says. A lot of wooden platforms, a lot of rope bridges and wooden huts with leaf canopies, it would be very layered and open for everyone to fly around. I don't have much to say here, I love the canon rainwing kingdom.

Nightwings: (In my OC universe they live in the mountains where Jade Mountain is in canon, so the range between the desert/rain forest area) Nightwings love the canyons more than the peaks, so they also love caves, but they adore taking their time with every single one and meticulously carving something into every cave wall. Rope bridges connecting the canyon walls, a real maze carved out behind each wall, and plenty of wood and gemstones embedded to show their wealth. The palace is built into the highest peak, with it being quite narrow relative to other palaces, but going very, very deep into the mountain with a lot of layers. There are a few towers and windows seen from the outside, however.

Sandwings: A lot of sandwings are nomadic, and towns are built around oases. The buildings are made of sandstone and brick, and due to most sandwings moving around a lot, inns are more popular than individual houses, though there are still houses for those who don't feel like moving around a lot. They tend to be not very noteworthy, mostly square with only a story or two, but with paintings and tapestries to spice it up. There's also tents for those going out into the desert and those who just want to rest in a town without getting an inn. A lot of sandwings also travel at night/dawn/dusk and sleep during the heat of the day. In the richer communities, they'll add wood and glass, and fancier inns. As for the palace, honestly I just visualize something that looks like the Taj Mahal or the Kremlin Palace. A lot of sandstone, glass, taller towers and walls, and water features to show off wealth.

[seeleybooth]

I did a lot of thinking today. I really can't be around you. Because when I am... Hey, no big. Water... over the bridge, under the bridge... When I am all I can ever think about is how badly I want to kiss you. ...over the dam... Kiss me?

[angel-of-the-moons]

Pavitr x reader where his wife or gf does end up pregnant? Idk maybe one where they find out they are and how they'd react to it, or one where reader has been pregnant a while and they do some...activities.

Canon Events

Pavitr x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: Anxiety, Miguel's Canon Event™ PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnancy anxiety, baby talk!

Pavitr is obviously aged up in this fic

A/N: I'm going to work through my asks a bit to help take my mind off the grief and stress, so I simply had to make this fluffy. I might make a second part to it where it gets spicy, once I feel better.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"Wuh-oh." Lyla said, swiping through the pop-up monitors surrounding her tiny yellow frame.

"What is it, Lyla?" Miguel asked, sipping his coffee. His deep chocolate eyes focused on the AI's persona as she squinted at the data.

"New canon event detected, Migs." She said, typing faster than any human could ever fathom.

"Where." He said, immediately setting his coffee down to furrow his brows at her.

Already he could feel his body tense at the news, after what happened with Miles and his canon event, not to mention Miguel's own...

He couldn't handle another mutiny, not when everything had finally been settled back into place, the web repaired and strengthened.

"Whose universe is it? Which one?"

"It's... Pavitr's." Lyla said, her eyebrows rising considerably behind her heart-shaped glasses.

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Great. What horrible situation did fate have in plan for that particular Spider-Man, now? His Aunty Maya dying? One of his friends? You?

He knew Pavitr understood the importance of canon events, but...

"How bad?"

"Actually it's..." Lyla let out a startled chuckle, tipping her head to grin at Miguel with her crooked teeth. "It's... well, okay, depending on your point of view it could be good or bad, but I think Pavitr might consider this a good one--"

"Lyla..." He sighed, tapping his foot.

"Alright, alright big guy, don't get your panties in a twist." She snorted, "Pulling it up now."

Miguel turned his thick frame to peer at the hologram as an image of you materialized behind him.

It looked like you were in some kind of doctor's office. Judging by the pictures on the wall, some sort of women's health center.

He squinted at the posters, every inch of the room, until his eyes finally focused on you, holding papers in your hand, shaking, the gold band on your ring finger catching the lights above and glinting a little too brightly for his eyes.

Miguel slowly began to circle your image as you read the papers. Your face looked cold and clammy, a bead of sweat trickled down your brow.

Cancer? No, no, Lyla said this was good news, for once.

So, what...

His brows shot up, the creases in his tanned skin deepening as he leaned in to peer over your shoulder at the paperwork.

He rapidly scanned each word. Your flu tests came back negative, no allergens to report, no life-threatening diseases...

But the blood results are what intrigued him.

Estrogen levels were elevated...

As were prolactin and progesterone levels.

Miguel had to step back and let his jaw go slack as he looked at you, holding the papers that, printed at the bottom...

Reported a strong, tiny little heartbeat.

You were pregnant. And judging by the levels of hormones in your system, you were halfway through your first trimester.

He watched as your eyes welled up, fat tears burning hot as they broke over the dam of your lashes, dripping down your cheeks. Your doctor handed you some tissues and rubbed your back, smiling sweetly as she calmed you down.

"I know, I know, honey. It's overwhelming... Just breathe." She coos.

You wipe at your eyes and take a few shaky breaths. "I just... I'm sorry, it's hard to control it all. Ugh, I've been wondering why I've been so moody lately, but my period was late!"

"Mhmm... hormones will do that to a mama." She says patiently. "What will you tell your husband?"

"I think--"

Miguel raised his hand to Lyla to stop the hologram. This was something deeply personal, and it didn't sit right in his gut about this, that he found out before Pavitr...

He pulled up his gizmo and pulled up Pavitr's frequency, his fingers moving a little too fast so he had to backtrack a couple of times.

Finally, the voice to the chipper, younger hero came through.

"Hi, boss! Uh... What's up?" He said awkwardly.

"Go home, Pavitr, I'm assigning someone else to your workload." He said, his tone a bit softer than usual.

"I--whuh--huh?" He could hear the bewilderment in the man's voice as he stammered for a reply.

"Just go home, Pavitr. That's an order."

"I... Eh. Uh. O-okay?"

Miguel sighed as he terminated the connection.

He hoped Pavitr was ready for this.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"Heee-llo my beautiful wife!" Pavitr called out, dropping his duffel by the door, a bit of a pep in his step as he walked through your apartment to look for you.

Pavitr called your name once or twice, and his brows creased with worry when you didn't respond. Were you out? No... No. Your shoes were by the front door.

He spotted you, sitting at the island in your kitchen, a cup of hot chai in your delicate hands.

You giggled softly as he kissed your shoulder and cheek on excessive pecks and loud "mwah's" before dropping his chin onto your shoulder.

He looked at your social media feed (actually it was some kind of forum that you quickly closed) and chirped, "Whatcha looking at?"

"Oh, just... stuff." You say evasively, squirming in your seat.

"Oh? What kinda stuff?"

"Oh, I..." You say, splaying your hands over an envelope. The logo on the sticker was from your usual doctor's office, and his brows pinched in concern.

"Sweetheart, what's up? You said you had a doctor's appointment today. Is everything okay?"

"W-Well, I... I mean..." You swallow thickly. "It's... I-I mean..."

"Are you okay???" He spun your stool around to hold your shoulders, his big dark eyes wide with concern for you as he scanned your face for any signs of... anything.

"I..." You cast a glance back at the envelope. The words felt like cotton in a dry mouth, choking and unable to utter.

Why were you so nervous about this? You talked about this together, brainstormed the "what-ifs" a million times during late nights, limbs tangled as sweat cooled on your bodies beneath the sheets.

You knew Pavitr would never be... angry about this. With you.

So why was there a nasty pit in the deepest part of your stomach right now?

Pavitr looked at the envelope, and slowly reached out for it, waiting for you to tell him to stop or if you were uncomfortable.

You wrung your fingers together and chewed the inside of your cheek anxiously as you watched him read your papers, mumbling about how everything looked okay.

But...

Then his eyes got to the last page. Your pregnancy test results.

He lifted the paper--almost comically--close to his face.

For agonizing milliseconds that felt like ages, the papers hid his face from view. All you could see was how he trembled, his fists clenching around the paper.

Finally, he lowered them, and those big, beautiful, dark eyes were glistening with tears and his lip was wobbling.

"I'm l--I'm--I'm gonna be a dad?" He blubbered near-incoherently.

"Y.... yes." You peep.

The papers were immediately forgotten as he buried his face into your chest and full-on started to ugly cry, babbling about how much he loved you and how happy he was.

Why on Earth were you ever afraid of how he'd react to the news?

You sniffled and hiccuped, his high emotional rollercoaster hitting you, too.

Immediately, he lifted his snot-covered, tear-stained face to look up at you, and his hands went to your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

"Hey, hey, hey! I love you! I love you so so so so so so so--"

"Pav..." You sniffed.

"Right, right." He muttered lifting his head to look down the hall. The room you two had turned into a room for your sewing projects was across the hall from your room. A little small, compared to yours, but...

"So if we can move stuff around, your machine can come out here, then we can put the crib in there..."

You blink dumbly at him.

"W... wait so you... You're serious? About.... about this?"

Pavitr turns to you with a grin, grabbing a paper napkin from the counter and completely cleaning his face, taking a fresh one and dabbing your tears away.

He kissed the tip of your nose, then your forehead, your cheeks, and finally, your lips.

Pavitr's hands moved low, pressing over your belly ever so gently. His eyes flicked up to yours once again.

"You and this... our little baby, are the most important things in my life." He swears. "I'm never going to back out on either of you."

He kisses you on the lips one more time, pulling away enough to touch your cheek, a grin on his charming, handsome face.

"So! Wanna look at baby stuff online? We can order takeout and chill!"

You didn't know why you were ever worried in the first place.

[blue-sadie]

Can you do a Togruta fem x Jake Sully where and everybody is just amazed at what she looks like especially the kids

A Gift From The Stars

Jake sully x Togruta Reader

Summary: maybe being different is a good thing

Warning: lekku = head tails

Yn/3rd person pov

Coming into contact with the navi was a struggle especially when the tried attacking our ships with their ikrans but when we didn't engage back they stopped.

We landed on what they call the hallelujah mountains a place where the humans couldn't track our movements I stood infront of the bay door with obi and anakin by my side.

"Just remember young yn they haven't seen another species other then humans so don't be alarmed if their surprised" obi said laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I've had bad experiences in the past about people hating my kind but it won't be like that i can feel it "I think you'll have to worry about big nose here" I giggled jabbing anakin in the side causing him to growl and swot my hands away.

"What's with you and my nose" he huffed glaring jokingly at me "it's just so big I can see it from planets away" I snorted covering my mouth as I laughed before jerking back to normal as the doors opened.

"We well be speaking to Toruk Makto the leader of the tribe be respectful and I'm looking at you anakin" obi said before walking out with anakin whining behind I took a few minutes to breathe before stepping out into the light.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust but when they did they widened 'dam they are tall' I caught most of them staring at me but no bad reactions my eyes glazed over each one till they met the leaders the one obi wan was talking about.

His eyes held curiosity in them as he looked over me "we are sorry we didn't know you weren't the sky people" he said as he turned his gaze back to obi wan.

"You don't need to apologize we should have tried contacting you further before our arrival" obi smiled and continued talking further about the problem at hand, jake started introducing his to the people who were with him "and these are my sons neteyam and lo'ak" he put his hands on the two boys behind him.

Their eyes were stuck on me "what are you" the shorter one blurted earning a head slap from the taller one "don't be rude lo'ak" neteyam snapped before apologizing for lo'ak.

"Its fine it happens alot" I smiled before changing it back to the subject "no we can talk about these later how about you come with us to celebrate your arrival" jake grinned and we all agreed.

Their lead us over vine bridges to get to their camp and the views were amazing and as we walked jake got into some of the history of the planet and how it got into this situation.

We reached an opening to their camp and the first thing we heard was a loud scream "daddy" I smiled as a young girl ran and jumped into jakes arms and he happily picked her up "this is tuk my youngest" jake smiled.

Her eyes look at obi then at anakin then to me she raised a finger pointing at me it was silent for a second before she blurted out "your pretty" a light blush from embarrassment dusted on my cheeks.

"Thank you you are to" I smiled and watched as she jumped down from her dad's eyes and walked over to me and grabbed my hand quickly turning back to her Father "can she come play" she asked politely her father nodded slowly.

I quickly glanced at obi who nodded as well before I walked off with her "where we go" I asked curiously as we left the group "to see my sister so we can play" she beamed.

I glanced behind to notice his to sons following us "you never answered my question" lo'ak murmured getting an angry side look from his brother.

"I'm a togruta" I smiled and started telling them about my kind as we reached their hut "kiri I brought a new friend" tuk yelled and a young girl emerged from the hut her eyes widened as she caught sight of me.

"Oh hello" she forced a fake laugh she looked like she was confused and weirded out at the same time "she with the people who are helping us" neteyam explained.

She nodded "well welcome I'm kiri" she smiled "yn nice to meet you" I grinned neteyam and kiri urged us to sit by the fire, I sat near a log a bit further back from the fire and the group seemed to follow.

"May I please touch your hair" tuk asked shyly "you may but we call these lekku" I had fun teaching them about my species and they did they same.

I sat still as she began tracing her fingers along my lekku her siblings eyes also filled curiosity my eyes began skimming over the surroundings till they landed on jake watched us with a smile

'I'm gonna like it alot here'

Tag.List

@greekgods15 @neteyamyawne @sweetirilly @erenjaegerwifee

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Stop...You're Losing Me

Words: 872

Warnings: angst, no dialogue, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

Takes place a few years after Bruce adopted Dick and a few before Dick left. Y/N, also from a big and prominent Gotham family, and Bruce have been together for 6, going on 7, years

Sorry that this took so long! I kept getting distracted while writing it/lost motivation. Plus I've been really busy this summer (saw Waterparks & Bring Me The Horizon/Fall Out Boy and I've been seeing different films and getting into other things, but I still love DC! I even finally finished the films for the DCAU)

Also this whole thing is NO HATE to Selina. I love that woman more than anything. She's just the one of Bruce's love interests I'm the most familiar with (followed by Talia then maybe Vicki?)

Based off of her new and technically unreleased song, You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift, specifically the bridge and outro

Part 1 here

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

Y/N stood across the room from Bruce. The moment after they walked into the room together, hand in what she was starting to think was an unloveable hand, Bruce had dropped it. He dropped it and immediately made his way to Selina Kyle.

She sighed as she grabbed a glass as a waiter walked by with them on his little tray. If she was going to have to go through another one of these events where Bruce made a promise beforehand just to immediately break, she didn't want to have to go through it sober.

She didn't want to have to take another night of her and her champagne problems sober again.

--------

Five hours had passed and Y/N knew that Bruce was not planning on leaving any time soon. She had already called Alfred for him to come pick her up. She was tired and felt pathetic. Finally burnt out from trying to keep her and Bruce afloat for so long just for him to always push her aside.

So many times had she tried to stay and be brave for them. Stay and not act like she was dying behind the scenes. She was tired of the constant begging for his attention. The constant reminding him that she was right there by his side, fighting for him, supporting him unconditionally.

But she was finally done.

Done with the rumors and the reports. Being left alone at parties and events. Promises that they would work it out but then Selina would show her face and he would float towards her.

Even when Y/N was right there in the best-dammed dress she owned. Looking and being the best damn thing at the goddamned party.

And as she sat in the car next to Alfred with a sleeping Dick in the back, she couldn't help but stare at her hand. In most relationships, there would be a ring on it. But there was nothing. And it wasn't that she didn't get why that was. She lived to make everyone else happy first. It was a compulsive act of hers. So often she would get sleepless nights just trying to make sure no one would come and sneak up on Bruce during his Batman nights while finishing up a report that was needed. She would always do it.

But the reality was that she just needed Bruce to be there and remind her he was. Perhaps that was why she wished there was some ring on her finger to signify that. To remind her that Bruce has and will always be hers.

And when they got back to the Manor, she ushered Alfred to go finish whatever it was he had been doing before and she would get Dick to bed, those thoughts still stayed in her head.

As she readied herself to sleep and Bruce still hadn't returned, the thoughts stayed.

As she laid in bed, body facing the door and his side of the bed, the continued rampant.

Worry that maybe she wasn't good enough for him anymore. That he was happier when around someone like Selina.

Someone more like him.

--------

It would be worse the following days after these events. Those feelings of doubt and betrayal. Days when she wouldn't be able to do anything without an article reminding her that Bruce never said a thing to her the entire night. That she left alone. That he had his arm around Selina for most of the night. That they had left together.

Every single time she saw one, she prayed that she would see something about Bruce defending her. Bruce saying it was a lie. Him saying anything.

But it never came.

And she knew it was with the fear that he would ruin his reputation. But at this point, she didn't care. All that she wanted was for him to do something. Say something. To lose or risk something. To choose something. Chose anything. Even if it wasn't her. Because truly, she had nothing to get from him anymore. Because all of this made her just think that she had nothing anymore.

--------

So when it was the dead of the night. When he was off being Batman, she finally gave up. She finally grabbed the bags and stuffed everything into them. Stuffed all that she could before he got home.

She no longer could find a pulse in their relationship to cling on to

And the moments following when Bruce got back, he was confused. She was there in the Batcave, head laying on the keyboard as she was falling asleep. She wasn't jumping up, excited that he was back. It was silence.

A silence that cut the air.

A silence that stayed as he walked up and to their shared his room.

A silence that stayed as he opened the door to find the bed made.

That stayed as he walked into the bathroom to find all of her things gone.

That stayed when he ran into the closet to her clothes and shoes gone.

That stayed as he slumped onto their his bed.

That stayed because he had finally done it. He had finally lost her. Because all of her warnings and worries finally became the truth and reality.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

So i decided to rewatch static shock and now i have Ideas(tm)

IDEA 1

Amity and dakota are neighboring and/or sister cities, and virgil and danny are the same age or one is only a few years older than the other.

A few things about dakota's location:

It has miles of waterfront on its east side to Lake Dakota, which has ocean access. The lake has a golden gate sized bridge over it, but the other side is never shown. An extremely large artificial lake from a dammed up river that leads to the atlantic makes the most sense to me. A fictional Great Lake is also entirely possible. Either option probably still limits Dakota to east of (or connected to?) the mississippi, especially when combined with the point below.

Its implied to be close enough to gotham for virgil to signal batman in the sky, and to quickly fly over. There's still plenty of room for reinterpretation, though.

Its large enough to have 'miles' of waterfront, and to have stadiums hosting major sports events, so its safely larger than amity park.

I was looking at a map and thought it would be great if dakota was between or encompassed toledo and detroit (i got the impression it was an expy of chicago or detroit anyways), with lake eerie and lake st clair on its east. Lake st clair would be renamed dakota lake and lake erie is the lake eerie that danny and his dad visit. Amity park is in ohio instead of illinois (which is fanon anyways).

(Also, hilariously, dakota has a poorer neighborhood called the fenton projects. Do with that what you will.)

So basically, dakota is the closest "big city" to amity park, so theres a lot of cross travel. Both cities get their vigilantes at the same time and bond over the mutual weirdness, and team phantom and team shock are close allies that constantly fly over to help each other out.

OR, one of the origin stories happened 2-5 years after the other, and whichever one is younger goes to the other for vigilante advise and training.

IDEA 2

The chemical that caused the big bang is some form of ecto, and all the bang babies are liminal. In this idea, i imagined team phantom closer to batman's age instead of static's. The (adult) team is investigating ecto-shipments in dakota when or shortly after the big bang event happens, connect alva to vlad and/or the giw, and discover a conspiracy to deliberately create liminals 'for science' (ie the chemicals were purposefully placed at the docks and a gang war deliberately incited).

Team phantom set up a bang baby outreach program at the community center with virgil's dad and quickly identify virgil as static. They train virgil (and eventually richie) and cover their patrols under the excuse that the two are extremely involved in the outreach program (which they are - static recommends the program to all of his rogues).

Danny's team is able to help the various bang babies develop and control their powers, has the resources to help anyone who doesnt want to be associated with ebon's gang, and has a way to safely subdue and contain the bang babies that refuse any help and continue to be a danger to others. And they can show up in a mask if they want to hide their identity while learning to control their powers (not that it would actually stop the team from being able to identify them). The team is also monitoring the bang baby population to make sure the giw or anyone else arent disappearing them.

The team would also take great offense to how the cure was ethically handled at the end of the series, especially if retconning the bang babies as liminals means that 'curing' them would actually hurt them.

Anyways, more danny phantom x static shock crossovers, please.