#Bright is at his limit his oldest son is just that stupid

[bulecelup]

panel redraw into charmuro

[hotwings0203]

This is so utterly stupid but I have a few HC’s about Muslim Dabi(again obv this isn’t canon I just think it’s funny)

-Dabi would def be the type of Muslim dude who claims to be super religious cuz he never eats pork and ��goes to the mosque to pray”(which is actually just code for hitting a blunt in the back of the parking lot w Hawks and Shigaraki💀), but yet smokes^^ and still has hella sex with like every other girl who bats her lashes at him from across the dining hall

-he also is a big cat lover, he claims since the Prophet Muhammad had cats of his own it’s sunnah to keep one

-on Eid namaz he’s the most dripped out one at the session, I’m talking black kurta dress, nice ass watch, slicked back hair...but funny enough, no one has actually seen him in line for the prayers themselves

-if he were back at home with the rest of the Todoroki’s, he’d most definitely be THE MOST spoiled one. Fuyumi would get on his ass for not cleaning the dishes, but he’d wave her off and tell her it’s training for her to be a better housewife for her future husband(cue a soapy sponge thrown at his head)

-Snitches.Constantly. Bro like this dude catches Shoto on his phone when he’s supposed to be doing a dua? Boom, instant callout followed by a long ass lecture about how he’s straying away from his religion and how he’s going to hell just because he spent one measly moment on his device instead of praising da lord

-Hes also always telling fuyumi to cover up her sleeves that come just a bittt before her wrists, claiming that she’s showing too much skin(especially when Hawks is over, that fucker’s got his eyes on every single one of his family members). But she’s quick to point out his secret tattoos, piercings, and hair dyes. He just scoffs and pulls the “women were created lesser than men so it’s okay for me to act a fool but not for you” card🙄stg I can’t stand him

-Since he’s the closest to Natsu, he’s always giving Eid money to him the most. The dude will slouch against his favorite brothers’ door, watching him play 2K. “What do you want?” Natsu asks with no real malice, not taking his eyes off the changing screen, furiously clicking away on his controller. “Mom says you gotta iron your clothes, Fuyumi’s doing her own so she can’t do yours as well. Oh, and Eid Mubarak by the way.” Natsu pauses him game and stands to stretch his arms above his head, groaning at the tendons popping in place on his back. “Yeah man, you too-what’s that?” He points to a fat parcel in Touya’s hand. The white-haired boy grins and chucks the bulging package at him, which Natsu catches easily. His eyes widen when he tears open the cream-colored paper envelope and reveals dozens of bills exceeding the usual 5-10$ family limit. “Yo, what-how-thanks Touya!” He sputters, throwing the package on his bed and throwing an arm around his brothers’ back in a man-hug. Touya rolls his eyes and barely suppresses a smile at Natsu’s excitement,(something he’s always wanting to be the source of) pounding his back to let go before he asphyxiates. He lets go and Touya smirks before heading towards the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’d thank Sho-turd as well while you’re singing my praise.” Natsu stops in his tracks and looks suspiciously at the withdrawing slender figure. “Why?”. Touya’s voice is distant as he moves to close and lock his door. “‘Cuz it’s his money after all.”

-The two brothers are always waking up at Sehri the earliest in Ramadhan, just so they can scarf down a majority of the food in the fridge and go to sleep without having to interact with the rest of their family at sunrise. And in the case that their family DOES wake up in time to see them chomping down food made for a WHOLE FAMILY and not just two boys, Touya is quick to grab his keys and jacket and cackle that him and Natsu are going to iHop to eat some more. Natsu ofc is quick to follow pursuit, throwing an apologetic grin towards his parents and other siblings.

-When they’re at the mosque and Enji has somehow bullied him enough to sit the hell down and actually ATTEND the lectures for once, Touya still has one up his sleeve. Planned out strategically, he always simpers to Rei that he wants to donate to the mosque, causing her eyes to water and a handful of cash thrown his way, her voice wobbly as she praises her son for actually taking the foundations of his religion seriously. Unbeknownst to her however, this just means that he’ll take a little bit more than he gives. Hawks will be standing at the front of the hall, bowing his head and using his silver tongue to graciously thank the many men and women who come forth to drop their allowance into the money basket. When he sees his best man approaching, he has to stop the smug grin from reaching his ears, instead slanting his brows and holding the basket out to the now black-haired thief. “Glad to see you’re taking eternal damnation seriously, for once,” Keigo flashes his perky whites and Dabi drops Rei’s money into the donation basket, dipping his hand a little lower for a second. “Glad to see you’re still standing here like some busboy peasant, as usual,” he fires back, the two boys catching each other’s eyes and stifling their cackles as the patched hand withdraws, a copious amount of bills in his hand, more than what he put in.

-100% steals shoes. Usually you hear about older men doing this, but age aint nothin’ but a number to Dabi, baby. “Nice kicks,” he nods to a boy Natsu’s age, noting the blue and black minimalist patterns adorning the shoes. The boy recognizes Dabi as one of the most revered figures at the mosque (and the most featured by adults. Who’d want their kid hanging out with the eldest Todoroki as an influence?) and bobs his head excitedly, spewing out the manufacture and release dates of the shoes. Dabi looks at the fanboy amusedly, continuing to lean against the shoe rack as more people crowd around and start to push the boy inside. “See you later Dabi!” The eccentric kid calls out as he’s pushed into the hall by grumbling uncles. The ravenette snickers fo himself, “Yeah, but you won’t be seeing these shoes anytime soon.”

-A notorious playboy in the community. Uncles glare at him, unable to scold him outright for his shenanigans due to his father’s close presence, and aunties steer their children away from him at dinner parties. Speaking of, Dabi’s at a dinner right now. He’s lighting up a joint in amongst 3 mesmerized girls sitting on the floor in front of him and 2 jealous dudes his age in a locked room, away from all the screaming little kids. “Wow Dabi, doesn’t it burn?” The youngest of the three girls asks him with imploring eyes. He smiles a charming smile down at her and he thinks he sees the other two swoon. “Nah, sweetheart, you get used to it after a little while. Don’t be like me though, keep yourself pure and clean,” he shoots a wink at them and they giggle, faces turning red. The other two boys sitting at the far end of the bed scowl at his successful flirting, but Dabi doesn’t care for any of them, honestly, they’re just target practice. Right as he inhaled the fumes of another puff, a little body throws itself at the door, banging its fists on the wood. “It’s time for food!” They all jump at the intrusion and chuckle as the intruder runs away, containing to scream about food being served. The group gets up to leave and exits through the door, but Dabi takes his time. He wasn’t done with his joint, and he has to waft the smell away anyways when he leaves. He’s opening a window to let out some air when he heads a soft shuffle from behind him. “Shows over guys, go eat-“ but when he turns around, the oldest girl of the three stands before him, fiddling with her hands and looking at the floor. “Um, Dabi? I know you said not to try it out by ourselves so...I was wondering if you could-if you could teach me how...?” She looks at the half-used roll in his hand, and he looks from the blunt to her face. He looks behind her. A closed door. Perfect. Taking a step forwards, he relishes in how she takes a hesitant step back, the breath in her throat catching but she still doesn’t back down. She looks to him like he’s a god, and he feels like one right now. And so he steps closer until she’s backed against the wall, his lids lowered to her wide ones, and he placed a hand next to her head. “Didnt your mom ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” He ghosts by the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “She never told me the strangers would be this hot,” and he has to laugh a bit at her tenacity. He pulls away and flops back on the bed, signaling for her to join him. “Well come one then, I’m hungry, better hurry up before I change my mind.” And 5 shotguns later, Dabi barely wipes off her bright pink lipstick from his face and straightens his kurta along with his hair before bounding down the steps, eager for food. At his command, she comes down a minute after him as to not cause any suspicion, but it doesn’t stop Rei from shooting him a knowing glare from the living room as he piles his plate with food. He shoves a veggie roll in his mouth as he turns to join the boys in the dining area, but his path is blocked by a large woman. “I know you’re up to no good. The children told me what funny smell was coming from the room upstairs, and I know you’re to blame, Touya Todoroki. I respect your mother a lot so I won’t make a scene here-“ he interrupts her, mouth half full with a roll, “-I mean, you already kinda are,-“ but she continues her tirade. “-I don’t think you’re a good influence on these kids, especially your siblings. What self respecting family would be okay with their son acting like a hooligan, having piercings, smelling like weed?” He smirks and swallows before swerving around her. “I don’t know Aunty, why don’t you ask your daughter? She didn’t seem to mind my, ah, influence.”

-When they were all younger, there was a time where End*avor wanted the boys the toughen up a bit and stop messing around so much. He brought the family up to the mountains in a nice cabin, purposefully choosing an area with farms nearby. It was around the time of Eid-e-Adha, so naturally goats and sheep’s were going to be sacrificed for the family feast. Touya already knew what was going on, so Enji left it up to him, a scrawny preteen boy to take over the initiation. Fuyumi wanted to come to the farm too, but Touya glared at her and told her to stay home because “girls are too emotional for this.”(he really did think that, but above all he held a secret soft spot for his only younger sister). Natsu and Touya both started heading down to the field to pick out a goat, and ofc little Shoto wanted to come along to. He begged and begged for his older brothers to bring him along and to not leave him at home for once, and with a sly glance to Natsu, Touya relented. He leaned down to Shoto’s eye-level and asked with serious eyes, “You sure?”. Shoto nodded eagerly, standing straight up as to look more solemn and mature. Natsu held back a snicker and grabbed Shoto by the collar as they dragged him out to the pasture. Oh, the little boy was in heaven among the bleating sheep and fluffy coats. “Go ahead, pick one out!” Touya said eagerly, nodding to the clueless toddler to choose a sacrificial sheep. And so the heterochromatic child pointed to one, looking to his big brothers for assurance, to which they gave an excited nod. Shoto yelped with glee and spent the rest of the afternoon frolicking with the soon-to-be-mutton chops, completely oblivious to its grim fate and creating a bond with the animal. So when it was finally sunset and the time came to start preparing for the feast, Touya walked over leisurely to Shoto, pushed the grubby hand away from the animal’s collar, and started pulling the creature towards the chopping block. “W-what’re you doing?” Shoto asked uncertainty. “Well, we gotta eat, right? Thanks for picking out such a fat sheep, ‘wonder how it’s gonna taste,”. The eldest grinned with malice at his youngest brother, who started to sniffle and ball his fists. “You’re lying! Leave it alone!” He cried out. “Nope, m’not lying, ask Natsu.” Natsu turns to Shoto and shrugs his shoulders without any real regret. “You’re the one who wanted to come along, right? Think of how proud dad will be of his favorite-he finally sacrificed his first sheep!”

-the first time he was ever asked to lead the namaz, Keigo and Tomura kept kicking the back of his legs so he would fall over while trying to recite the prayers, and in turn he’d immediately whip around in the middle of the whole damn hall and shoot fire at the two howling boys. Needless to say, he was never asked to read again

(one would think since Dabi knows sooo much about being a gOoD mUsLim and how to follow the rules he’d take some of that advice HIMSELF)

[period-dramallama]

A skim read of jean plaidy’s St Thomas Eve

For @thalassodromid bc this is our Niche

General thoughts on quality (TLDR)

-First off, I should give this book something of a pass because it was written 60+ years ago. Historical research, like science, Marches On.

-I skimmed it because i was not loving the style. There’s very little description, the pacing feels like This Happened And Then This Happened. With this story, you should have a sense of the stakes, the tension. It lacks atmosphere.

-This book really didn’t spark much emotion in me. I was heartwarmed and amused, but never frightened, horrified, fascinated or upset. I felt no panic when Meg got the sweat. 

-Honestly i was so bored I started wondering if maybe this is too difficult a story to tell, because i came in loving these historical figures and wanting content. How bored must the unobsessed reader be?

-Show don’t tell, Jean! Don’t tell me everyone’s very upset, show me them upset. Don’t tell me Meg loves Thomas, show their bond. Don’t tell me everyone loves Thomas for his honesty, show me him helping his neighbours.

-To be fair, there’s a lot to get through in 260 pages.

-I just love how historical fiction pulp novels have Book Club questions at the back. It just feels rather cocky, imo. Like you think your book is Deep enough for me to sit and ponder the characters. Like there was a question that was something like: “do you prefer Katherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn” which was kind of hilarious because the whole book it was Poor Loyal Old Ugly Katherine and Six Fingered Anne Boleyn Is A Minx And Wants Thomas More Dead

Pet peeves

-at the beginning of the book, it says “Secretly Henry VII was unbothered by his wife’s death” or something along those lines. Given that Henry VII locked himself away after Elizabeth died and his mum had to step in and rule because he stopped functioning, this left a bitter taste in my mouth. Henry VII in this book is a Mean Evil Miser so of course he can’t love or be loved by a Good Woman.

-John More jnr being described as the family dunce. To be fair, maybe the book came out before we knew he was a translator too, but STILL. Don’t put John down to raise the girls up. He is valid too. 

-the language is what my old tutor would call ‘mock Tudor’. I think it was expected at the time that you had to try and make the language authentic- The Blanket of the Dark and the Man on a Donkey both use Tudor language. It really made the dialogue annoying. Lots of ‘tis and ‘twas and it was this close to beshrew me verily and hey fucking nonny nonny. Every time Alice said fuckign ‘Tilly valley’ I went AAAARGGGH. JUST HAVE HER SAY THE WORD ‘NONSENSE’. There’s a happy middle, imo, between too Tudor and too modern, and it’s quite a broad middle, you can move around a lot in it, but there are limits. 

-SPEAKING OF ALICE. Her character introduction was so good- first described as ‘an authoritative feminine voice’ *chef’s kiss* she stops a fainting Jane from being trampled at Henry’s coronation, accompanies her home and cares for her while simultaneously lowkey roasting her interior decoration. But then she becomes a bit of a caricature. When Meg gets the sweat she nags her for going near anyone who might have the sweat. The book club questions say ‘there’s more to her than meets the eye’ THEN SHOW ME MORE THAN ONE SIDE OF HER. Also Thomas loves her even though she’s ‘rude and stupid’ but Meg doesn’t understand why. Grr. 

-”mistress middleton will hear you [2 year old John] crying and box your ears” NO NO NO NO NO!

-also i get a 1950s Spanking Children Is Good Parenting vibe because Alice hits the Morelings with a slipper if they don’t study, and Tm’s described as too much of “a coward” (literally the word coward is used) to hit his children other than with peacock feathers.

-Utopia being described as an ideal state...it’s really more than that. I don’t like the idea that Meg and Thomas were okay with religious toleration but then Thomas became Consumed With Hate and he says “well religious toleration would be great in an IDEAL state...”

-Meg being horrified by heretic burning. Maybe the evidence of her views wasn’t yet available and so social mores of the 50s meant that writers and historians assumed that Of Course Being a Delicate Woman She Would Have A Natural Desire For Peace And Mercy. Grr.

-Too romancey. To be fair, Jean Plaidy wrote a lot of historical romances so maybe that’s just what she’s comfortable with (and these are historical figures that never get a chance to shine) but between Meg and Will, Clement and Mercy, Joan and Thomas, Giles and Cecily... it’s a bit like Pearl Harbour in that it’s hard to care about the cute romance when men are getting burned alive in the background. A good historical romance is more like Titanic: the lovers are directly connected with the Big Historical Events ongoing. Skip!

-in this book, Mercy thinks to herself that Meg would have Tm sign the oath, but Mercy would prefer tm to do as his conscience dictates...that feels like the wrong way round.

-Erasmus and Thomas More speaking in English...Doubt.jpeg. 

-Thomas More muses on how Complex men are because there’s Proud Cold Thomas Howard who is Soft for Simple Launderess Bess Holland...yeah given the multiple colossal power imbalances in that real-life affair, I’d be very surprised if it never strayed into abuse.

-baby Meg is a lil too precocious.

-dying Joan tells Meg to look after her father, no Joan stop I love you but don’t give a six year old responsibility, I don’t care if she’s six but acts eleven, looking after TM is Alice’s job not Meg’s. 

-Tm using the phrase ‘our little secret’ with Meg. The context is not abusive, but the phrase is so weighted, it’s like referring to something as “a final solution”: the famous meaning is too horrifying to feel comfortable with that combination of words in any context at all. 

-Joan’s younger sister being described as beautiful and flirtatious, and the whole bit about More fancying the younger sister but going for the older out of honour. The book says that More’s fascination with joan’s sister is the reason he realised he couldn’t be a priest. Given Joan’s 16, her sister’s 15 at the oldest, possibly 14. So a 26 year old can’t be a priest because he’s lusting after a 14-15 year old girl who is attractive and who has been flirting with him. Squick. 

-also no mention of erasmus at the end of tm’s life. Boo. I think a dude in the tower would think about his BFF of 30+ years who he hasn’t seen for 10+ years 

Good bits

-It’s obviously unintentional, but given how the word ‘gay’ has changed, i gave a little cheer every time a character was described as gay. Cecily and John are both gay, Thomas More is very gay, and later in the book wishes he could go back to being gay again. Loving the accidental representation 

-”a boy who is not worth the tossing” i have a dirty mind ok

-Joan getting something of a personality! She even feels insecure because she’s a normal person stuck in a family of geniuses.

-George Boleyn is described as being ‘a bright boy’ and later the girls joke that if they meet him they’ll probably fall in love THIS SO REFRESHING. Otoh, Mary Boleyn is slutshamed and Anne is a scheming minx so the double standard does spoil it a little. 

-Thomas More makes puns! At one point Alice says “more’s the pity” and then immediately says “don’t you dare make a pun out of that. i know u will. DON’T I AM NOT IN THE MOOD FOR PUNS” Granted, Plaidy stresses that his wit is never cruel or mocking (Doubt.jpeg) but i think this is maybe the funniest More. 

-It acknowledges the heretic burning! Not bad for 1950-something. At the end there’s a sort of Hm Thomas More Is A Complex Dude How Do We Approach Him page from H8′s POV.

-More’s father getting all misty-eyed when his son becomes Chancellor

-Henry VIII kissing tm’s forehead

-the flogging of the mentally ill upskirter being depicted

-Wolsey not being a caricature but a worldly and practical man. He’s explicitly described as “not a bad man”

-”He [TM] was no Erasmus, who, having thrown the stone that shattered the glass of orthodox thought, must run and hide himself lest he should be hurt by the splinters” not a very fair way to depict Erasmus (as he spent a lot of the last decades of his life arguing against Luther and trying to mediate between religious factions, esp in Basel) However, I like the metaphor

-Meg talking about how she and her sisters will always compare men unfavourably to their father... understandable.

-More explaining why Heretic Burning is Good Actually is done well

-Meg pointing out that More and Erasmus both criticised the Church, only it’s a bit half-baked because More never experiences any doubt or crisis over it. 

-Meg being torn between the Lutheran and the Catholic men she loves is at least some conflict and stakes when it finally shows up.

-Alice standing trial for dogknapping on page 195. A Big Lipped Alligator Moment, and I’ve no idea the source (i doubt Plaidy would make it up completely, it’s so out of nowhere) but it’s fun. It feels like one of More’s ‘merry tales’

“[Erasmus] read aloud to Thomas when he came home; and sometimes Thomas would sit by his friend’s bed with Margaret on one side of him and Mercy on the other; he would put an arm about them both, and when he laughed and complimented Erasmus so that Erasmus’ pale face was flushed with pleasure, then Margaret believed that there was all the happiness in the world in that room.” my emotions! my emotions! my ship is sailing, i repeat, the ship is sailing!

-”Meg, this is one of the happiest days of my life. it is a day I shall remember on the day i die. i shall say to myself when i find death near me: ‘the great erasmus said that of my daughter, my meg.’”

-”So the King likes verses!” said mistress middleton, her voice softening a little. 

“Ah, madam,” said Thomas. “What the King likes today, may we hope Mistress Middleton will like tomorrow?” Do I smell... flirtation...

-”His face was pleasant and kindly, [Alice] concluded....She would like to feed him some of her possets, put a layer of fat on his bones with her butter.” Does this version of Alice have a feeding kink I definitely think, in this ‘verse, Tm and Alice are 100% having sex.

-John Colet’s in it, though described as tm’s confessor (who i think was actually grocyn or linacre)

-Alice clearing a path for a fainting Jane with “Stand aside, you oafs.” alexa, play X gon give it to you. 

[mrae71]

School’s Out

One thing people didn’t know about my father was that he was an awesome story teller.  According to his tales, he lived quite a life.  I’m not sure how much he told was fact or fiction; I call it fiction presented as fact.  I am currently compiling his stories into a book, and here’s one of them:

School’s Out

                Rudy stared eagerly at the clock, watching the seconds, then minutes tick by as the school year came to a close.  The classroom was like a furnace, not only holding in heat, but seeming to also take it in through the open windows.  He waited eagerly as his teacher, Mrs. Winlock, passed out the year-end reports one by one.

              After handing them all out, she sat down at her desk and said those final, long awaited words to her class of fifth, sixth and seventh graders, “thank you class, see you next year!”  With that the children let out a collective whoop as they quickly gathered their things and left the drudgery of books and assignments behind them.  Except Rudy. He sat quietly perplexed; he hadn’t received a home report.

              “Reuben,” Mrs. Winlock said softly, “stay behind please, I’d like to speak with you.”

              Rudy remained in his seat and nodded.  He liked Mrs. Winlock, she was kind and patient. She came from one of the town’s most prominent and wealthy families, living in a huge Victorian home on acres of land.  She even had servants.  He had heard adults saying that her family used to own slaves, but he never dared ask about it.  First, he was eavesdropping on what was supposed to be a conversation between his aunt and his grandmother, a conversation that he was sternly ordered to see himself away from.  And secondly, even at 11, he knew it would be rude to bring up such a delicate matter.

              Mrs. Winlock waited for the room to empty and then approached the child, envelope in hand.  She sat on the desk beside him and began gently, “first, Reuben,” she always addressed him by his proper name, “I wanted to know, would you like to work for me again this summer?”

              Rudy smiled widely, nodding his head.  He had worked for her all last summer, and enjoyed it ever much, tending the gardens, cutting grass, piling wood, mending fences, tending animals, and generally doing anything that needed doing.  He only worked through the week, leaving his weekends free to fish or play ball and she always invited him inside for a tasty lunch.  “Yes, ma’am, I’d like that.”

              The teacher smiled warmly, “good,” she patted his arm, “I can do $5 a week, plus, just like last year, you’re free to take home some of the produce, fruit, etc. that we won’t require, does that suit you?”

              He nodded eagerly, $5 was a full 50 cents over and above his weekly wage the year before, and the work wasn’t all that hard.

              Mrs. Winlock shoved the few greyish-brown strands of hair that hung from her neat bun behind her ear and took a deep breath before handing Rudy his home report.  She wished more than anything that she could rip it up, call it a huge mistake and welcome the boy as a sixth-grade student the coming fall.  But that wasn’t going to happen.  He simply hadn’t achieved the necessary outcomes to warrant promotion.

              It wasn’t for lack of trying.  Not on her part, and not on his.  Sure, Rudy was like most boys, more interested in what was going on outside than what was happening at the front of the classroom, but he was always quiet, attentive enough and eager to please.  The truth was, Mrs. Winlock, even with over 30 years as a teacher, had no idea what the disconnect was.  Rudy wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot.  He wasn’t one of the many children she’d seen in her career that were just simply slower than most to comprehend.  In fact, she found the young lad very quick to pick things up, especially if he were shown it.

              She remembered the time her husband, a fairly feeble man for 54 after having had a fairly severe stroke which left him with limited mobility on his right side, went outside and showed Rudy just how to prune the tomato plants, cutting the shooters to allow the blossoming vines more room to grow.  He only needed one quick lesson, which was more than the teacher could say for herself. In fact, her husband, Ned, forbade her from ever touching the tomato plants after more than once having hacked them half to death.

              She couldn’t put her finger on it, if she could have, she’d have fixed it, but somehow, whatever she was doing in the classroom wasn’t getting through to the bright-eyed child.  It was as if whatever his mind responded to had nothing to do with classroom teaching and while he was able to slide by with marginally acceptable results until now, as the work became more complex, she saw him fall further and further behind.

              She had thought about doing the charitable thing and pushing him through, reasoning that perhaps the confidence boost would propel the boy to work harder but decided against it.  She knew of other teachers who had done so and if she were honest, she had done it a time or two herself, but the circumstances were different. She normally reserved such mercy for those students who had a track record of turning in good performances and then suddenly, usually due to some issue at home, sometimes something as simple as plain old hunger, had fallen behind.  The fact was Rudy was falling further and further behind with every grade and to advance him to the next grade would serve no one, not the class, not herself and not Rudy.  “Please take this home directly,” she said firmly, handing him the envelope, “do not open it, I want your mother to read it first, do you understand?”

              Rudy nodded.  He knew what it said anyway.  The entire year had been a long series of F’s and “please try agains”.  It didn’t take any sort of eminent scholar to see the writing on the schoolhouse wall.  “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Winlock, I will.”

              The teacher chocked back her tears and turned her head momentarily to compose herself.  She didn’t want Rudy to see her upset.  She didn’t want to upset him.  She cared a great deal for the lad.  In fact, she could readily admit to herself, and to her husband, that he was the favourite of all her students, ever. She imagined had she been able to bear a child, he’d have been much like Rudy, strikingly handsome, tall and wiry, strong as a small ox.  He was hard working and wanted only to please those around him.  He had a surprisingly soft heart that most people didn’t take the time to see.  He seemed to take very well to and to protect the younger children just coming into school and she had caught him more than once cradling or singing to a calf or a lamb in her barn.

She’d spent five years watching him grow and blossom, fight and struggle and she knew about his homelife.  Woodstock wasn’t a big town and talk got around.  She knew the black eyes and bruises he often sported came from the hand of his father after downing more than his share of whiskey.

              She didn’t know Reuben Senior as a younger man but had heard the stories.  He was once just like his son, sweet, tender hearted but with a steel exterior.  He had somehow managed to lie his way into military service in 1916, stating his age as 18 rather than 16 in order to do his part for the country and as the story goes, he came back from the First World War alive, but forever changed.  But that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back she knew.  He came back more aggressive for sure and made a name for himself as quite a good boxer.  But years later, when young Rudy was just a baby, he and Thea lost a child, baby Grace. Mrs. Winlock was given to understand that the 10-month-old was a perfectly healthy infant until suddenly falling ill and passing away some five or six days later.  It seemed Reuben senior never recovered from the loss and his aggression quickly turned to red hot anger and the occasional drink with the guys turned into binge drinking to the point of blackout.

              Rudy, she knew got the brunt of his father’s aggression and she worried for the child, wondering what this home report would bring.  Sober, he seemed a decent enough sort, she’d spoken to him several times and he was quick witted, but quiet, almost charming.  However, fueled by drink, he often sought his oldest son out and took out his frustrations on him.  It was as though the child, who was in fact, visually, the very picture of his father thirty years prior, represented all the unfulfilled hopes, plans, and dreams he had that never worked out.  What better way to address what you see as your shortcomings than to beat up on your younger self?  Well, except for the fact, he was beating on his son.  She shook her head, trying to make the awful thought disappear, “Reuben, please, promise me, you’ll take this directly to your mother, she begged, sounding a little more desperate than she had intended.

              Rudy agreed and was dismissed.  He walked outside into the late-June heat and found the school yard empty.  He walked toward home, just far enough to get out of sight.  He darted behind a group of trees and opened the envelope. He scanned it furiously, not wanting to be caught.  He skipped over the individual subject reports to get to the bottom line, “I regret to inform that Reuben has not met the necessary requirements to be promoted and will be required to repeat fifth grade.”  His heart sank and he sat down behind the tree and cried, his head in his knees.  He knew it was coming, but he hoped, naively, as children do, that maybe, just maybe, it would all be okay, but there it was in print.  He mourned the defeat, dried his tears and after a few moments, stood up and walked home, knowing exactly what he would do.

              When he arrived home, he saw his mother surrounded by many of his siblings, all basking in her praise.  Of course, Althea was front and centre, basking in her triumph. Having jut turned 13 the month before, she was quickly taking on the bearing of a young woman.  She was slender, curvy and had a pretty face which boys were starting to notice.  However, she had very little time for local boys or their nonsense.  She had plans, plans to become a teacher and later a wife and mother.  She was to spend her summer minding Dr. and Mrs. Baldwin’s eight children and taking in sewing in her free time. She was to be paid $3 a week, but she kept some for herself.  He didn’t understand all the ins and outs of it, but his mother explained that young women needed pocket money for important things, things only women understood.  He imagined it had something to do with dresses or maybe lipstick. She, of course, received glowing marks, and finished top of the seventh-grade class.

              Enid stood right behind her sister, jumping up and down, eagerly awaiting her turn at praise. She was a tiny wisp of a girl, but her personality loomed larger than life.  She did reasonably well this year. Her home reports going forward always read the same, “Enid is capable of exceptional work when she puts her mind to it,” and this year was no exception.  She was a bright girl, there was no doubt, but she had a streak in her, a fierce independence that often bordered on defiance and troubled their mother. The girl was intent on doing things her way.  She wasn’t unruly or disobedient, but had something not often seen in little girls of the time, a sense that she wasn’t supposed to conform to the world, but that in fact it was the other way about, the world should conform to her.  Their grandmother politely called her a “spirited child.”

              Then there was Bobby, he managed to get through second grade unscathed although his teacher opined that “further effort will be required to be successful in coming years.”

              And finally, David, the impish first-grader, complete with a toothless grin.  Sharp as a tack, but inattentive and mischievous.  He was the first to peer out the window at anyone or anything that happened by.  He was also the first first-grader to put a dead frog on Mrs. Mullins’ chair back in October.  He denied it vehemently, but his guilty giggles gave him away.  His older brother Bobby saved him from his father’s beating, claiming responsibility for the prank, something he often did.  In any event, despite his lack of attention and his tendency toward pranks, he got through with better than average grades.

              Rudy lowered his head and when the crowd dispersed, having received an adequate amount of praise, approached his mother, cleared his throat and handed her his home report, “Mrs. Winlock says for you to read this,” his face reddened with shame.  The idea of disappointing his mother killed him.  He knew she worked so hard, especially now, with so many children. There was him, Althea, Enid, Bobby, David, Jimmy, Johnny, and now, baby Francine, just six months old.  She was a pretty baby and from what he could see, fairly well behaved.  She didn’t fuss a lot.  That made eight kids, and he had heard whispers that another may be on the way, but that hadn’t been confirmed.  He kind of hoped not, the house was a tight squeeze as it was, the boys, Bobby, David, Jimmy, and himself, shared one room while the babies, Johnny and Francine shared another.  Althea, who had previously enjoyed the enviable position of having her own room had recently been forced to suffer the indignity of sharing with Enid.  Rudy was sure she hated that, but in true Althea fashion, she accepted the assignment as her duty to the family and said nothing about it.

              Thea turned to her children, still milling about in the living room as Rudy stood beside her, “you all get on outside,” she ordered, “I want to have a talk with Rudy.”

              “But Mama,” Enid whined, “it’s hot.”

              Thea stared hard at the children, her plump brown face set in that way that let them know she meant business, “then go swimming, but scoot, I’ll not tell you a second time.”

              The kids scrambled out the door as their mother told them and Thea turned to her eldest son, “let’s see this, then.”  She knew what was inside.  She gingerly opened the envelope and read it as tear began to stream down her son’s face again.

              Rudy buried his face in her ample bosom, sobbing, “I’m sorry Mama, I’m sorry!”

              She cradled the child gently then took his face in her hands, wiping his tears, “it’s okay, Rudy, I knew it was coming, you’ll just try harder next year.”  She didn’t know why, but she had known for some time that her eldest son struggled with schoolwork.

              Rudy snuffed the snot back from his nose and stood straight, “I’m not going back, ma’am,” he declared, “I’m going to work.”

              Thea looked at the child in disbelief, “you’re 11, what do you think you’ll work at?”

              “I’ll be 12 come January,” he explained, “I’ll do just like Daddy, I’ll join the army, fight in the war, just like him!”

              Fear welled up in his mother.  Thea knew well what war did to her husband and she also knew her son was just impulsive enough to try such a thing, although she also knew he had no chance, even at 12, looking young for his age, of being accepted into any army, it was time for a strong message.  She softly slapped his face with the back of her hand, “you will do no such thing!” she exclaimed, “and I’ll hear no more talk of any army, do you understand?”

              Rudy began to cry again, the slap didn’t hurt physically, she barely touched him.  But his pride hurt desperately.  He nodded in submission, “yes, Mama, I understand.”  Then he added, “but I could continue for a while at Mrs. Winlock’s till after apple season, that’ll take me into October, then I can go work in the woods.” He had it all figured out in his mind and in his young mind, it seemed to be the only reasonable choice.

              Thea softened, “Go on outside and play,” she told him, “I know you’re disappointed, we’ll talk about this nearer the school year, okay?”  She had no intention of allowing him to quit school.

              Rudy agreed, quietly set in his intention never to return to the classroom.

              The summer went quickly and soon it was time to get ready to return to school.  Thea and Reuben took their eldest son aside to see how he was feeling about repeating fifth grade.

              Rudy stood straight and tall, as tall as an 11-year-old could and informed his parents of his intentions, “I’m not going.”

              Thea, now confirmed to be expecting, yet again, shook her head, “Reuben, don’t start,” she warned.

              The child continued, steel-faced in his opposition, “no, Mama, I’m not going back,” he explained, “Mrs. Winlock says I can stay on ‘till at least October, then I got some work with old man Hawthorne lined up, and I also got a bit over at the general store, only a few hours here and there, but it’ll do us.”

              Thea’s heart sank, “Rudy, you’re a boy, you need your schooling.”  She was devastated, it was hard enough in 1941 to be a black man, but to be a black man with next to no education, the thought terrified her.  She always wanted better for her kids.  She wanted them to achieve, to have the opportunities she and their father never had, to be seen as they were, equal members of the human race.

              Reuben Senior spoke up, “woman,” he said, “we both know the boy ain’t much for the books,” he took a big gulp from his mug, “if he don’t wanna go, maybe we shouldn’t make him.”  Another gulp and he turned to his son and poked him hard in the chest, “but if you ain’t in no kinda school,” he warned, “you’re payin’ room and board!”

              The boy agreed, “of course Daddy,” he said breathlessly, “Mama can have all the money, just like always.”  He always turned over his entire weekly earnings to his mother for household expenses, often refusing her pleas that he take something, even a quarter for himself.  He added, expanding in his long-term plan, “anyway, it’s only ‘till I can get into the army and go into the war like you did, Daddy.”

              His father panicked in his whiskey fueled haze as memories of World War 1 trenches came flooding back faster than he could process them.  The gun fire, the filth, the rain and mud, the slop they passed off as food, and to top it off, the way black solders like him were treated like simple cannon fodder, pushed out to the front lines, never recognized for anything more than boots on the ground, it was all more than he could bear.  He didn’t want his son going through that.  Rage filled him, rage at every white superior that called him boy. Rage at every German that shot in his direction.  Rage at the impetuous, unwitting brat in front of him who had no real idea about the harsh realities of the world.  Before he knew it, his hand was up and he smacked the boy, hard, across the face, knocking him across the room and onto his ass, screaming, “shut up, boy, shut up!”

              Thea jumped between them, begging her husband to stop.

              Enraged and seeing nothing but the life his son would have if he chose the military, he shoved his wife out of the way, sending her into the stove.

              Young Rudy rose to his feet staring his father in the face for the first time in his life, cocked back his fist and punched his father in the jaw with all his might.  It was enough to send the man, now in his early forties and suffering more and more from his war wounds, not to mention the whiskey, stumbling.  “Never hit Mama again,” Rudy screamed, “never, or I will knock you out!”

              Thea took a seat, trying not to cry in front of her son.  Reuben Senior composed himself and looked at his son with a hard, critical eye.  He both loved and hated the child now.  He loved his resolve and strength.  He hated his resolve and strength.  He mostly hated that the boy had shown him up.

              Rudy knew nothing would ever be the same. He knew he couldn’t strike his father and expect to live in his home.  He looked at him and said in an apologetic tone, “Daddy, if I can collect my things, I think it’s best I go to Grannie’s.”

              Thea protested, but her husband overruled her, agreeing with his son.  The house was crowded as it was, and it gave him a quick opportunity to save at least a little dignity.  He agreed with the boy and said sharply, “you got 10 minutes and then I’ll kick you out by the ass!”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

The mystery of the box was solved. Hunk had sent enough food for a small army. All of it allergen free, and all of it apparently good in some way for Lance’s pregnancy. Lance seemed a little disappointed there weren’t cupcakes, but that only lasted as long as it took to find home made caramel slice neatly packed towards the bottom of the box. Claimed by his husband, Keith didn’t have the heart to take it away from him. Pidge was the only one to take a piece of the slice when Lance offered it around, everyone else could see how excited Lance was over it, whereas Pidge simply didn’t care. The gremlin was setting up the group call for his birthday, after sending the video of their boys through to Miriam. Miriam would be part of the group call, as would Lance’s team. This was supposed to be for him, to celebrate his birthday, but the previous day Lance had fallen asleep while Mami had talked. His husband was missing his mother something chronic, he’d realised that during his chat with Shiro, now he’d be awake to see her. While they’d been out on the veranda, Coran had moved to sit in the recliner that Curtis had been in, he now had Korra sleeping on his shoulder. His mother, Curtis and Pidge were sitting on the sofa, leaving the recliner for him and Lance. He hadn’t wanted to hurt his husband’s back, but the slice had perked him up. Lance now snuggled up in his lap with the fudge sitting on his belly.

Shiro was the first person Pidge called, his adoptive brother was a gushing mess over the video of their twins. Curtis didn’t help by being just as gushing over the whole thing, and their roles as godparents to the boys. It hadn’t registered but this was the first scan Curtis had seen in person. The first time he got to experience the joy that came with each scan. They’d seen the features of their boys in scans before, but not with the twins looking so... human. So close to being born... He wasn’t sure how much more human they could possibly be, or how much more they could possibly need to grow before they were born. He’d have to consult their baby book. Lance wouldn’t be going into labour here. Maybe another month, then they’d have to leave their temporary home. Plus, Curtis had to be coming to an end of his leave soon. They wouldn’t be able to stay here without his presence... The idea of leaving their “bubble” wasn’t appealing in the slightest. Lance was still healing emotionally. He was still learning to accept that he’d soon be giving birth, or rather, soon he’d be a father to their little boys. The less stress between now and then, the better. Having them call was better for Lance, also better for him and his stupid secondary instincts. Keith quietly proud of how he’d kept his jealousy in check for the most part. There’d been no yelling, or accusations... He hadn’t put his foot in it, and didn’t intend to now.

Letting Shiro and Curtis do most of the talking, Keith was happy to watch his adopted brother be himself and be a total idiot over Korra. As far as babies went, she hadn’t kept them up all night with her crying, and her serenades weren’t completely terrible. The real chaos of the day didn’t start until Pidge connected everyone else into the conversation. It soon turned into everyone trying to wish him a happy birthday, or make a joke about how he was going to be a father soon, so he and Lance had to get their act together. Lance managed a few words here and there, Pidge and Hunk getting into an argument over whether or not she peaked in the box ahead of time. Pidge stuck to her guns, swearing she hadn’t, nor had she scanned the box to determine its contents. The fact that she supplied that counter argument lead him to believe she had. Given that Hunk, Shay, and Shiro were still technically at work, they were the first of the group to sign off. Shay was extremely shy about wishing him a happy birthday, managing to get the words out just before the call disconnected. Shiro promised he’d be in touch soon, but that was probably in the form of him calling Curtis as they’d talked the night before... and possibly a call later to see how Lance faired after talking to everyone. There’d been a small flare where the topic of conversation was how big Lance had gotten, much to his husband’s misery. Sure, he’d started to relax again one the conversation had moved past his belly, but his upset was clogged in Keith’s nose. The caramel slice discarded the second he became the focus of things. The Cuban was also sitting a little stiffer in his hold, his face hidden against Keith’s cheek as he clammed up. Lance hadn’t said “red”, nor had he escaped the conversation by saying he needed the bathroom. Having his hands on the container the slice had been in, kept them from wandering to scratch at the inside of either wrist.

The next three to sign off were Acxa, Zethrid and Ezor. All of them repeatedly telling him how lazy he was for relaxing at the cabin while they were stuck with the trainees. When they’d left the call, Veronica had joined. Miriam was fast to scold her oldest daughter the moment Veronica went to enquire about Lance’s pregnancy. Marco laughing hard until Daehra shoved him off his seat and ruined his image in front of his family. Daehra also had a few choice words for the pair of them. Him because he was letting Lance work from the cabin when he should be concentrating on his pregnancy. Lance because he hadn’t called Annla, and the pint sized Princess wasn’t impressed with either of them over it. The request to call was also accompanied by the request for pictures of Kosmo. Keith felt slightly “used” as she was only wanted photos of his wolf and not his perfect twin boys. She was getting both, whether she wanted them or not. Daehra also wanted a copy of Lance’s scan for her medical files. With how his husband was feeling, that’d have to wait until he’d recharged his courage. Veronica seemed to scare Lance more than Krolia’s arrival. He didn’t think anything had happened that was out the ordinary, but he’d been out of it after the explosion so would probably need to ask Curtis for the truth there. And, it wasn’t like Lance was ghosting her. He did reply to his messages. It might take a few hours, or day’s depending on who it was, but he did reply.

With the outpost to run, Daehra swapped out with Lucteal who wished him a happy birthday. Lance perked up enough to tease him about the hickey on his neck. Lucteal’s face turning bright red at the mention of Yule. This led to Marco being elbowed in the ribs as he pulled a total Lance and started gossiping about how Yule had come to the outpost for some part, and how Lucteal had been totally jealous when Tobias had cooked for her. Both he and Zak passed on their wishes, yet Keith was sure they didn’t actually know or really care. Lance’s team were happy, and he knew that made his husband happy, but he also knew that Lance was devastated that he wasn’t there to witness it all. As Marco and Lucteal devolved into wrestling, Lucteal attempting to silence a Marco who wouldn’t be silenced, wetness smeared against his cheek. Lance shaking was he started nosing into him in an attempt to find comfort that his arms around his husband wasn’t providing. For Lance to last this long made him proud. With Miriam scolding both men in the background, Keith caught Curtis’s attention. Being the guest of honour in the whole thing, and being as socially competent as a barnacle on the bottom of a sunken wreck, Keith wasn’t sure how to politely bring things to a close. When it’d been the 8 of them, he could take the moment. Now it was 11 of them and he felt awkward leaving Mami. Lucteal and Marco’s feeling didn’t matter as much to him as they’d be fine. Mami was Mami. She was stuck in Cuba worrying for her pregnant son, knowing that Lance had had an off day the day before. He didn’t want her to worry, not when this was clearly from Lance being overwhelmed by so many thoughts, feelings and emotions brought on by seeing their friends again. Without a working clock in front him, Keith could only assume they’d been talking for at least the last 3 hours. He wasn’t even sure there was anything left to say. They’d wished him a happy birthday. They’d gushed over his boys... and now they all had jobs to go back to. If he was exhausted from them all, then Lance had to be near on passed out. Plus, his husband hadn’t gone that long without needing a bathroom break in time since he’d arrived.

Curtis being, as Lance liked to call him, “Space Dad 2.0”, he was quick to assess the situation. Whispering to Pidge, Pidge have a quick nod at his words, disconnecting Lucteal and Marco from the chat, then Veronica who’d started talking to Miriam and Krolia, sending a short burst of static through the line before she did. Once again, Keith was in awe of her tech skills, and just a little bit scared over how easily it was for her to cut the call like it didn’t matter. Sensing something was up, Miriam was polite as she waved them off. Sending her love and making them promise to keep her up to date with everything happening there. Krolia’s comms rang less than 30 seconds after the call disconnected, his mother bullshitting her way out to the veranda with a bold face lie that it was the coalition.

Unlike her usual prying self, Pidge made herself look busy as Curtis came over to them. Keith hadn’t realised but Coran had fallen asleep sometime after Shiro, Hunk, and Shay had disconnected. Both he and Korra dead to the world, still cuddled up together. Taking the container from Lance’s hands, Curtis placed it on the coffee table before placing his hand on Lance’s shoulder

“Lance, are you ok?”

When his husband didn’t reply immediately, Keith replied for him

“I think he’s reached his people limit for now”

Letting out a soft sob, Lance shook his head

“I’m sorry...”

Lance didn’t need to be sorry

“Shhhh. It’s ok. Our friends don’t know when to shut up”

“I... I need to use the bathroom...”

“That’s perfectly fine, Lance. Keith can go with you”

“I’m sorry”

Curtis squeezed Lance’s shoulder softly, his smile didn’t waver at all

“Honestly, I wasn’t the reason for the call, but as Keith said, and maybe not as harshly, our friends really don’t know when to be quiet. I’m not sure what we were talking about by the end of it”

His husband dropped to a rough whisper. Keith realising that the whole time they’d been wrapped up in the conversation, he’d taken a sip of his drink but hadn’t thought to give anything to Lance. He was also pretty numb across the thighs and arse, his husband most probably in agony from holding the pose for so long

“I... had an accident...”

Curtis made an “ah” sound, Keith wasn’t completely convinced Lance had. He hadn’t felt anything

“Not to worry. You and Keith take as long as you need. I saw you falling asleep there. If you want to take a nap...”

Lance continued his mumbling

“Pidge and Coran...”

“We can make up extra beds. It’s not a big deal. Or they can head back with Krolia later tonight. There’s still an hour and a half until dinner if you want to take a nap”

“You’ll wake us?”

“I promise. I should also look for Kosmo. He hasn’t been back since he was scolded for stealing pancakes this morning”

It was suspiciously silent without Kosmo there to steal their food. He hadn’t noticed much more than the occasional urge to swap Lance sitting in this lap to his husband sitting between his legs

“I didn’t even notice he’d disappeared again. Lance, babe, lets clean up and take a nap”

Standing under the spray of the shower, Keith washed his husband’s body for him. He wasn’t sure why his husband hadn’t told him that. Soaping up Lance’s shoulders, his husband was leaning against the wall, asleep on his feet as he chewed on his lip. Kissing the place he’d just scrubbed over, Keith wanted to understand

“Lance, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hmmm?”

“You didn’t tell me... about... That you needed the bathroom”

“I didn’t want to make a scene”

“That’s not making a scene. How long... how long were you holding back from saying anything?”

“Why should it matter? I’m fine... all I want is to go nap with you”

Nipping at Lance’s shoulder, his husband swatted at him. This would have to be a short shower. Lance needed both his and Curtis’s support to make it to the bathroom due to his back, and the pain down his leg

“It matters to me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice”

“You weren’t supposed to...”

Keith felt a stab of something akin to anger that Lance would hide something from him. He wouldn’t have made a big deal out of it, or a scene. The could have covered it with a white lie, or he could have covered while Lance went to the bathroom

“Why? Why wouldn’t you tell me? There’s nothing embarrassing about using the bathroom”

“Keith...”

“I don’t get it... You shouldn’t have been sitting there like that. When did it happen?”

“Keith...”

“Babe. When did it happen?”

Mumbling and sniffling, Lance sadly answered

“Not long after Shiro left the call. I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”

“Babe! That was... for that long... why didn’t you tell me”

Lance jumped at “Babe!”, Keith supposing he had been a bit forceful with the word

“I didn’t want you to be angry... I thought you were mad...”

“What no? Why would I be mad? I’m a little mad you didn’t tell me, but we both know you’re heavily pregnant and these small accidents happen”

“But... it’s your birthday. Everyone should have been here with you. Or you with them. Instead, you’re in the middle of nowhere with me... I didn’t want to ruin your birthday! I wanted it to be perfect for you”

Hanging the shower puff back around the cold tap, Keith then wrapped his arm around his husband

“It’s perfect because I’m here with you. That’s all I need”

“But it’s not what you deserve! You deserve the best birthday ever. With everyone celebrating the fact you exist, because you existing is the best thing ever”

“Honestly, I was over the call thing before Shiro left the conversation. You’re not the only one who felt overwhelmed. My team was thinking of visiting, and having an actual party here, but I chose this instead. I chose this because all I wanted was to spend the day with my husband. That’s a perfect day to me. I know you had plans for us, and I didn’t want you to be upset by the change of plans”

“You shouldn’t have to change your plans around me. I want you to have your own life. To have your own friends... I want you to make memories with them, not just with me...”

“I didn’t “have” to do anything. I did it because it’s what I wanted. I want to spend this time with you. Without the fuss of a huge birthday. Birthday’s are hard for me, like Christmas is. I’m still learning to be okay with them. And I’m learning that maybe I am okay with them when I have you with me. You don’t need to punish yourself over an accident. You don’t need to hate yourself or think you need to be uncomfortable like it’s some kind of earned punishment”

“But... but I fucked up. I couldn’t talk to them all properly”

“You did. You were already tired before the call. We both could have used a nap to recharge. Also... I’m not good with people and words. You being there helped me”

“You’re not as bad as you think. Everyone loves you. We all love you... I’m sorry I messed up”

If Lance apologised one more time, Keith was going to melt down the drain hole due to the guilt he felt over the incident. For hours, or at least a good hour, his husband had hidden his accident thinking it’d be the best thing... His confidence had taken a hard knock with Krolia being there, and again when their friends had mentioned his stomach. Not only had Lance wet himself, he’d also been sitting through a damp bra. Keith was sure the wet fabric against his nipples hadn’t felt great thanks to the small leak

“No more apologising. It’s my birthday and I say no more”

“I’m... I wanted it to be perfect. Curtis and I were going to do the cake... and then... I thought we could make lunch together. Nothing fancy... You looked so happy when you cooked me lunch and I thought “yeah, we could totally come up with something together”. I mean... I wanted to you know, try cooking before then and I did plan that before you made eggs... I know I shouldn’t make plans... I only get down over them. I... I really wanted you to be happy”

“I am. I am with you”

“But that’s another thing. You have obligations outside of staying here. Your team mentioned it. You should be training. Practicing your Blade skills and keeping in contact with everyone. I want you to have a life outside helping me cope”

“I do have a life”

He was technically recovering, which he could have done back on Daibazaal, but he’d made the choice for himself that he wanted to be by Lance’s side above everything

“You’ve been so focused on me. I want you to do something for you. Only for you. I want you to be selfish. I want you to ask me for things... I want you... I want you to...”

“You want me to what?”

“I don’t want to be a burden... I don’t want to shackle you down”

Coaxing Lance to turn in his hold, his husband’s brilliant blue eyes were far too wet for his liking

“You are not a burden. I’m here because I want to be with you. I want you to feel safe and I want you to relax as much as possible before your c-section. Ok. And it’s nice here with just the three of us. There’s no pressure on me to be Krolia’s son, or to be a senior Blade member. I’m here because I want to take care of my family”

“But you’re missing out on stuff...”

“That stuff couldn’t be anywhere near as important as being with you and our boys”

“But... what about Daibazaal? You were so passionate about making the universe see you guys as something more than Zarkon’s legacy”

“We fulfilled our obligations with the tour. I know it’s been weeks for you, but to me I’m still coming off the tour. I’m not... I don’t want to work. I want to enjoy being with you. All that other stuff can wait”

“Don’t you miss them? Your team? Shiro?”

“I do. But they’re all just a call away. I would rather be here with you missing them, than out there with them missing you”

Lance’s eyes widened, Keith biting down a snort at the expression on his face. His husband was so damn cute

“Keith... if that... if that ever changes, I won’t blame you”

“It won’t. How about we get out of this shower?”

“If you want to hang with Pidge...”

“Idiot. I’ve had enough “peopling” to last me today”

“She came all this way. She said she wouldn’t and she did”

“That reminds me, she visited you here?”

“Yeah... not long after Curtis brought me out here. It was... kind of nice. She didn’t make a big fuss or anything...”

“So you’re reconnecting with her?”

“Maybe? A bit? She brought burgers but my mouth was messed up”

Keith was proud. He was proud Lance hadn’t shut her out when she’d made the effort. And he was proud of Pidge for respecting Lance enough to not pry or make a scene

“Then we’ll have to take her out to dinner or something after the boys come”

“Mmm... I’m sorry... about before”

“That’s alright. Well, it’s not, but it’s passed now. Don’t ever feel you can’t tell me when something happens. I love you”

“I love you, too”

After their shower, Keith finally got his cuddles. Lance falling asleep almost immediately when they spooned up together. Despite feeling as if he too was about to drift off, Keith spent their hour simply enjoying cuddling his husband close. When Curtis crept in to wake them, Keith felt mean for having to wake Lance up to eat. His husband clearly needed more than an hour’s rest. Asleep on his feet, Curtis moved their chairs closer together so Lance could against Keith’s while Keith fed him. Lance insisted he could manage a fork on his own, but the vacant expression he wore when the carrot he’d slabbed slipped off the plate said otherwise. Taking the fork from his husband, Lance seemed to think he got out of eating proper for that day. No matter what either of them thought, Curtis was firm in his stance that caramel slice didn’t count as real food, meaning that if Keith didn’t take over feeding Lance, he’d be in the shit tomorrow. Slicing everything that seemed to magic it’s self onto his plate, with a little help from Coran, Lance ended up eating more than Keith by the end of dinner. By the time the cake came out of the fridge, they’d all gorged themselves on Hunk’s home cooking as if they hadn’t eaten in the last phoeb. Lance tried his absolute hardest to sing along with their group, his husband mumbling/singing in a strangled kind of way “samurai” instead of his name, sending Pidge into a fit of giggles as they finished up singing him happy birthday, before Keith blew out the 26 candles on his cake. He didn’t need 26 candles to remind him how old he was getting. It was weird enough to think of how long it’d been since Shiro had crashed and changed all their lives, and it was even weirder to think he was married to the love of his life with twin boys on the way. Sure, there were things he wished he could go back and change. But for them to end up where they had, how they had, he was pretty damn proud of the both of them for that. Things weren’t perfect, yet they were both still working hard on the aspects of themselves that they found lacking. They were talking and they were getting there. Lance had come so far. He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t a stranger. He wasn’t suffering in silence any more. He’d admitted his past and they were working through what would take years to... not get over, but to make a kind of peace with. Lance would forever be scarred from his experiences, and though it was certain they’d fight, neither of them were going to give up on each other, nor were they going to give up on the future with their boys.

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Leopold “Butters” Stotch

hi! i think i’ve worked out that i’ve reached the activity limit with my overall replies & discord rp-ing (16 replies overall) but, if not, I’m happy to leave this in your inbox until it’s ready x

out of character info

Name/Alias: Grace Pronouns: She/Her Age: 23 Join Our Discord: Yes – already in x Timezone: GMT Activity: 8 Triggers: N/A Password: Jimmy can fast pass my ass Character that you’re applying for: Leopold “Butters” Stotch Favourite ships for your character: Butters/Kenny, Butters/Eric, Butters/Chemistry

in character info (heavy trigger warning for parental abuse and neglect throughout !!)

Full name: Leopold “Butters” Stotch Birthday: 11th September 2000 Sexuality, gender, pronouns: bisexual, male, he/him  Age and grade: 17, senior.

Appearance: 

Butters is cursed with eternal baby-face: chubby cheeks and big blue eyes. Even his hair is as soft and fluffy as the day he was born, with his parents making sure that he never deviates from his short-back-and-sides style by cutting it themselves every Sunday evening. That’s not the only thing that hasn’t changed; his clothing style is as sweet and standard as his middle school days – boot-cut jeans, comfortable sneakers and the teal fleece his mom bought for his 15th birthday (he’s barely grown, since). Sometimes, Butters will experiment with a graphic-tee, his favourite being his array of Hello Kitty Island Adventure merchandise, or bright coloured polo. 

Butters stands at just under average height and just over average weight, with a cute bit of chub on his belly that he doesn’t think will ever go (he’s banned from visiting the gym after his dad’s bathhouse escapades). One time, his mom threatened to fatten him up so much that he’d never be able to leave, and he’s never been able to budge the extra weight, since. He doesn’t mind, though: he’s as body positive as can be, and thinks that anyone who don’t think he’s handsome ain’t looking hard enough.

Personality: 

Butters is a mess, frankly, though he thinks he’s just an ordinary fella living life as anyone should: by being kind and helping others. He’s dangerously gullible and painstakingly naïve, with a generous soul even after everything he’s been through. He just wants to do right by the world, especially his friends. He has a strong sense of justice, though this can be easily manipulated to the point where he’ll believe that what’s wrong is right and what’s right is wrong. Despite often being misguided, he’ll stick by his guns and stay true to himself when the time comes. He’s got better at standing up for himself as he’s got older, too, and isn’t afraid to put his foot down and say heck no if necessary. Most days, he's very confident in his own skills and self-image, but that can all change with one comment. 

His disrespect for authority is an interesting personality trait. He’ll fudge the police and tell his teachers to go suck a popsicle, but there’s two people he can’t say no to. Butters has been gaslighted his entire life, and the emotional and physical abuse he receives from his parents has led to humiliating and childlike obedience (what 18-year-old accepts being grounded for using twitter after 9pm?). When he’s caught doing wrong by his parents, all his self-confidence and cowboy-like bravado is shot to smithereens: he’s just a no good miscreant who ain’t gonna amount to nothin’, so he may as well give up on his dreams and stick to bein’ a plain ol’ nobody.

History:

Butters was born to Linda and Stephen Stotch on 11th September 2000. Ever since that fateful day, his life has been nothing but chaos and control and, though he wakes up to the sound of his own screams every night, he’s grateful for every opportunity he gets. It would be impossible to write all of his ups and downs in a couple of paragraphs, but there are two things that have really shaped Butters as a person.

One: his family. Stephen Stotch uses fear to control his son whilst his mom, Linda, is dangerously protective. Though seventeen, Butters still calls his dad ‘sir’ to his face and does what he’s told or faces severe consequences. The night that his mom asked him to stalk his father to the bathhouse changed a lot of things; he saw the internalised secrets and lies that have corrupted both of his parents and has watched them wear white-picket-fence masks in public every damn day since. He saw his dad embrace his sexuality yet treat it as a sin. He experienced his mom, breaking down, vulnerable and distressed, ready to kill her own son. Not to mention the time he was sold to Paris Hilton as a pet. Linda and Stephen Stotch are manipulative and controlling parents whose ‘love’ of their son, however much they fret over him and cover him with kisses, will never make up for the trauma instilled in him.

Two: his friends. Scrotie McBoogerballs, AWESOME-O, Good Times with Weapons, Marjorine, Casa Bonita. The list of shenanigans that Butters been apart of, and victim of, is endless. He’s been locked in a fridge, publicly shamed on television and stabbed in the eye with a shuriken, yet he still hangs out with these guys. Why? Because he was never part of the gang in kindergarten, and he’s never really had a true friend, someone who has made the effort to see what he’s been through and respect him regardless. Besides, hanging with these guys (whatever injuries and humiliation they bring to him) has given him a strength he never knew he had. He’s become a pimp, rekindled his confidence to dance, got his wiener out at school, become a best-selling novelist and, best of all, learned to say no to Eric Cartman. Not bad for a good-for-nothin’.

  Sample paragraph: (At least two paragraphs, centred around your character)

For the first time in a long time, Butter’s internal sludge pile of shame and humiliation is joined by anger. He’s so gosh darn mad that he don’t care who knows it, but no-one is gonna know it, ‘cause he got no cell, no internet, and no hope’a gettin’ outta his stupid ol’ room. It’s the same ol’ story: Eric and the fellas convinced him to get a fake ID so they could get some sorta fancy alcohol for Bebe’s party tonight. Kyle said it had to be him, ‘cause he looks the oldest, and he’s the best actor outta all of ‘em. Butters ain’t sure if that’s true, but he appreciated the compliment, and it’s a bad pal that says no to a favour, especially when the entire party rested on his hands.

He got the booze, alright. And he was nice and proud of himself, until Eric said it was the wrong one. Ain’t no one wants to drink this kindergarten crap, Eric said, we’re men now, we gotta drink whiskey. Well, Butters thinks whiskey tastes like butt, and ain’t no one wants to taste butt, ‘cept maybe Kenny. He thought the blue an’ pink bottles looked cute and bubblegum is his favourite flavour, no doubt about it, but maybe he should’a followed the plan and done what he was told. Darn it all.

He was in trouble with the guys, but at least he weren’t in trouble with his mom and dad, and that meant he’d finally be able to go to a real life party, maybe show off his dancin’ skills and eat some cheese and pineapple sticks. But then they found his fake idea when doin’ their routine search’a his room, and all hell broke loose. You ain’t goin’ anwhere today, mister, they said, you’re gonna sit right here on your tushie an’ think about the consequences of identity fraud. I’m goin’ to that party, Buttons said, puttin’ his foot down. Well, that  just about earned a slap around the noggin and a week without his cell, so he couldn’t even tell the fellas he weren’t comin’ tonight.

A knock on his window jolts him outta his angry pacing. He doesn’t want to look up, ‘cause he knows it’s probably Eric, comin’ over just to make fun of his current predicament and boast all about how much fun he’s gonna have tonight. Well Butters weren’t gonna have it, no sir-ee. He puts his hands on his hips and he gets ready to march right over there and give Eric a proper telling to, but then he sees it ain’t Eric, it’s Kenny, an’ he got a proper determined look on his face.

“We’re breaking you out,” Kenny says, an’ Butters ain’t gonna argue this time.

Headcanons: 

Butters still plays Hello Kitty Island Adventures, but he’s also a massive animal crossing fan. Any game that lets him escape his house, have some independence, and talk to (or raise) cute animals can keep him hooked for hours. Unfortunately, his mom and dad turn the internet off at 9pm and keep his phone in their bedroom at night. 

Butters keeps his sexuality a secret from his parents, and it’s no surprise why. After his mom found out about his dad’s trip to the bathhouse (subsequently attempting to murder her son) and after a gruelling (and very confusing) trip to conversion camp, Butters thought it best to hide any ‘abnormal’ feelings. Fortunately, his friends and their often open sexualities has made him feel comfortable and confident with himself, and he’s resoundingly grateful for it.

He is quietly considering his gender and what it means to be Butters. At the moment, he doesn’t think he needs to put a name to it, but it doesn’t hurt to research, and he’s ecstatic to see he isn’t the only one who doesn’t sit on one end of the binary. Though exploring the possibility of being non-binary, he’s happy to be referred to by male pronouns for now.

Butters wants to be a pre-school teacher, even after what happened to Ms. Claridge. He loves drawing and storytelling and wants to share those gifts to others, helping kids who might not be happy at home.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think his mum will let him go as far as college without having a breakdown or threatening something real bad. Though his parents have started to treat him a little better as he’s got older, their distrust of the world around them, and of their son, has grown rapidly.

Butters works part-time at the ice cream parlour and adds something special to every sale. Most of the time he uses the wafers and chocolate chips to make little teddy bears, but his extra special treat (for people he really likes) is the unicorn uni-cone with lots of sparkles.

Butters is a wonderful artist! He loves using watercolour pencils and paint the best and though his work isn’t always the most profound (it’s usually portraits of his friends or cute animals he sees), it's always beautifully coloured and full of love.  

Anything else: thank u guys 4 the opportunity

[iamchrissi]

Don’t you die alone

For the Batfam Week2018, prompt; Hurt/Comfort

I hurt Jason, because of course I do. But he gets better, I promise!

Also on Ao3

A gun is pointed right in Jason's face.

He sighs, swipes it away and punches the idiot. Don't they know guns only worked in reasonably ranged combat? Close combat is for sticks and staff, ranged for guns and batarangs, and seriously ranged for arrows and rifles. Seriously, it's as though those goons never even passed the basic streets training.

But then again, apparently Bruce thinks he never passed that training either. Or any sort of training, really. Whenever he thinks of their argument, Jason wants to punch things. 'You need to keep tighter control of your explosives'. As if it's Jason's fault that some idiot drug dealers went up with their own poorly cooked meth. His explosion didn't even cause that bigger one. 'You can't just fire into a gang meeting.' It's not like he actually got anyone. Or wanted to get anyone. All he wanted was a bit confusion. If the gang members are stupid enough to start going after each other, that's not on Jason.

And then the idiot goes on about how Red Robin, who'd come to help and hadn't even said anything because Tim is actually surprisingly nice sometimes, could have been hurt. Does he ask after Jason? No, because Bruce doesn't actually care.

Not that that's new information, but Jason had thought that their reconciliation in the past months had actually meant something. But apparently not.

A lucky thug actually manages to land a punch on his shoulder, right in the bullet hole. Jason's sight goes white for a moment before he gets himself back in control and uses his gun to hit the idiot over the head with. The thug collapses immediately, and Jason turns to the next one.

Soon enough, all goons are one the floor, knocked out or pretending to be, and Jason stands in the middle, breathing heavily. He's kind of feeling better, though. One should never underestimate the therapeutic value of beating the shit out of some goons who do shit like running a human trafficking ring. Right in Jason's territory. It's like they were asking to be beat up, really.

He goes to work downloading all their info from their servers and then destroying their equipment. They have a shipment of people hidden somewhere in Gotham, and he needs to know where. So while his nifty little computer program combs through all the data his data stick is sending to the home computer, he can make sure these idiots will not be able to start up again any time soon.

Blowing shit up. Also extremely therapeutic.

About halfway through the warehouse, he notices something wet trickling down his arm. He looks down on it and grimaces. The stitches he put in his shoulder wound must have opened. That'll be a bitch to take care of later, but right now he has other things to do.

The data stick beeps, signalling both that all data has been transmitted and that there is a probably location for the kidnapped people. Jason takes the stick and then destroys the computer. If Oracle wants some of the information, she can ask him, and if the police wants it... well, then they should have taken care of these human traffickers before he had to get involved.

He checks the location. Batman's territory. He thinks about it for a moment, wonders whether he should call it in over family com, or ask for Bruce's permission or anything, but there's no way he's talking to the old man in the next week and those people kind of need to be freed right now. So he just packs his stuff and starts driving.

When he arrives at the warehouse, there seems to already be a fight going on inside. Jason hides in the shadows for a moment, checking the situation. He can see the bright costume of Robin twirling around between at least a dozen goons. If Batman or Nightwing already have this, then he's going home to bury himself in a nice book.

But he can't see Batman or Nightwing, or anybody really, just Robin. Even as another ten men show up from the backdoor, nobody intervenes. Robin doesn't call for help, either.

Which means that Robin is here on his own. Jason snorts. Looks like he's not the only one to be pissed at the family tonight.

But he can't let Robin fight all of those goons on his own. The kid might insist he's a superior fighter and can easily take on a hundred men or whatever, but at the end of the day Damian's a thirteen year old kid. He has limits.

Jason reloads his gun and shoots the weapon out of the guy next to Damian. Kid's good, he'll give him that, he uses the shock of the other thugs to take a few of them down, apparently not the slightest bit surprised at the arrival of gun slinging help.

Jason grins and dives into the fight. Between them, they finish of the thugs soon enough.

“How did you find this place?” He asks Damian when the last of the goons is down. Robin looks okay, out of breath, but there's no suspicious stiffness in his moves or anything. Which is good, because Jason's shoulder is starting to hurt something terrible, and he's not sure he could carry Damian if anything had happened.

“There were suspiciously many lowlifes here. I decided to investigate.” Damian says, looking at Jason curiously. “Why are you here? I did not require help, you imbecile, and this is not your territory.” Jason snorts. That is downright nice coming from Damian.

“I took down the command center of this operation in the Narrows before coming here. Figured I'd finish the job.” He explains, and Damian nods. He also sneers, but Jason almost completely tunes that out as he searches for any suspicious rooms or doors.

Finding one, he uses some acid to crack the lock and throws the door open. Inside of a tiny room, there are about eight terrified looking teenagers. When they see him, though, they're eyes go right to the bat on his chest.

“Get out, stay together. Walk down the street, go right at 11th, and you'll see the police station. Go there, ask for Maggie Sawyer, tell her Red Hood send you. She'll take care of you.” Jason orders. Kate mentioned that her girlfriend has the late shift this whole week, so Maggie should be there. And though Jason has only met Maggie like, three times, Kate wouldn't date her if she wasn't okay.

All the teens nod, and the oldest one looks Jason straight in the eyes. She's not afraid, he notes with growing respect. Gotham kids know who to trust.

“Thank you.” She says, and the other kids nod again, and then they're running. The girl makes sure they stay together. Jason smiles. They'll be fine.

Then he turns to Damian. The kid is going through the left over equipment, systematically destroying it. Jason shakes his head and joins him.

“So, does B know you're here?” He asks conversationally. Of course B doesn't know. Otherwise he'd have send someone to look after Damian, but he's got to make conversation somehow. Also, riling Damian up is fun.

“Father is unaware of my location. If you tell him, I will slice open your neck.” Damian says, with a surprising amount of vitriol, but Jason just shrugs. That's Damian.

Then he sees movement on the end of the hall, where the goons are still lying. A man is sitting up, he's aiming for Robin, no time to get his gun out and shoot him, so Jason jumps on Damian...

He feels the impact, like getting hit by a truck, right as he goes down. Then there's pain. Nasty pain. Jason can't breathe. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the glint of a batarang, and he hears something that might be the goon going down, but he can't be sure. His senses are kind of out of whack.

He brings a hand to his chest and is kind of surprised when it comes back wet. He shouldn't be surprised, he got shot, but somehow his brain is not up to speed.

That's bad, he realizes distantly. His thoughts should be quicker. He knows they usually are.

Then Robin is leaning over him. The kid is pale as hell, which is bad, too. He'd thought the kid was okay. Has Damian gotten hurt fighting that last goon? Jason wants to ask, but his mouth is not cooperating with him.

Damian's lips are moving, he's saying something, but it seems to be so far away, Jason can't understand it. He tries to tell Damian that, but he can't even move a single muscle. Darkness creeps into his vision, and Jason wants to tell Damian to run, leave him here, save himself...

The last image he sees is Robin's terrified face, then his thoughts go dark.

When Jason wakes up, there's a weight on his side. A warm weight. And his chest hurts. And his shoulder. And something is on his hand, too. And there aren't any of the Gotham typical sounds, so he's not in any of his safe houses.

He carefully opens his eyes. No need to inform any hostiles that he is awake, though, considering he's pretty sure that he was shot the last time he was awake, anyone who wanted him harm could have just let him bleed out right there.

He sees … the manor. What is he doing in the manor, he had a huge fight with Bruce, what...

He looks to his side. Right. Damian. The kid had been there when he got shot, right? It comes back to Jason, and he kind of wants to curse. But Damian is sleeping curled up right next to him, and the kid looks both exhausted and kind of adorable, so he figures it would be best not to wake him.

He looks to his other side, and blinks. Bruce is sitting on a chair, sleeping in what cannot be a comfortable position, holding his hand. B looks exhausted, too. Jason... does not really know what to do with that. Because he just had a huge fight with Bruce yesterday (it should be yesterday, right? He wasn't unconcious for that long. Right?)

But he's not going to claim that Bruce here at his sick bed isn't something he's... opposed to. The man is his dad, after all. He might not get along with him most of the time, but... Bruce is his father, and that still means something. At least to Jason.

He wasn't sure it still meant something to Bruce.

Unless Bruce is only here for Damian? To reassure the kid? Damian is his biological son after all, and there's never been a question he loves the kid. But would Bruce hold Jason's hand if he was only here for Damian?

Jason feels like sinking, like disappearing. He doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want disappointment. He wants to wallow in his safe house.

He tries to move his hand a bit, but that only has Bruce waking up. The man blinks once, then his eyes sharpen and turn to Jason. Jason wants to shrink away under his father's intense eyes.

“Jay.” Bruce breathes, like he was really worried, and then he's hugging him. Jason closes his eyes. Maybe Bruce isn't there for Damian after all. For a few seconds, he can just melt into his father's embrace.

Then Bruce let's go a bit, and Jason reluctantly moves back. Not to far, though. Bruce's hands are still on his shoulders, and Bruce is staring at him intensely. There's worry in his eyes, and relief. It almost makes Jason smile. Good to know he does still mean something to the old man.

“Are you in pain?” Bruce asks, looking him in the eyes as though he never wants Jason to leave his side ever again. Which is so not how this is going to go, Jason is definitively getting out here as soon as he can on general principle, but the sentiment is still appreciated.

“A bit. You got me on the good stuff, don't you?” Jason whispers back, not wanting to wake Damian. Looking around, he notices that Dick, Cass and Tim are also in the room, sleeping on various couches and chairs. He bite his lip. He didn't think he'd gotten that close to dying.

“How bad is it?” He whispers, because a simple bullet wound does not warrant the whole family to sleep in one's room, at least not in their family. He must be much worse than he'd thought.

Bruce swallows, which is a bad sign. Jason braces himself.

“The bullet to your chest led to a collapsed lung. You lost a lot of blood too, both from the chest wound and the shoulder wound. And there was a small infection, but Lesley got that under control pretty quickly. You've been out for almost 24 hours.” Bruce rattles off, and wow, that does explain the worry. Collapsed lungs aren't fun.

“I...” Bruce starts, then he licks his lips and looks Jason in the eyes again with that intense look. Jason wonders if there's more bad news coming. He kind of feels like he's already got his fill of those for the day.

“I'm sorry for how our fight ended the other day.” Bruce says finally, and Jason almost gasps, because Bruce never apologizes. For anything. “I shouldn't have yelled at you. I don't... approve of your methods, but... you are my son, Jason. I should have made sure you were okay first and foremost, and even after that... well, yelling's not exactly helping with anything between us, is it?”

For a moment, Jason is speechless. That was... completely unexpected. Not unwelcome, but... he must have scared Bruce something bad to get him to be this emotionally open. He almost thinks he should do it more often, if it gets Bruce to be more open. But only almost. Now that he's somewhat awake, he starts to feel his chest worse.

“Shouldn't have yelled either.” He says finally, and if anyone asks him tomorrow, he'll claim it was the pain meds, but the smile on Bruce's lips makes him feel all warm and loved. He smiles back.

Damian moves in his sleep, just a little bit, but enough to make both Jason and Bruce look at him. He looks young like that, more like the thirteen year old he is. It's cute. But it also reminds Jason.

“He okay?” He whispers to Bruce. He remembers Damian being pretty pale and terrified before he lost consciousness. If the kid was seriously hurt, he'd probably not have been allowed to sleep on Jason's bed, but still... best make sure.

“Couple scraps, nothing unusual. He was worried about you. Said it was his fault, that you took the bullet for him.” Bruce says, voice quiet and... guilty? Worried? Sad? Proud? Jason's too tired to figure it out.

“Couldn't let him die, y'know?” He whispers back, and Bruce smiles, but this time there's definitively some sort of sadness there, too.

“You are important too, you know that, right?” Bruce tells him. Jason just blinks. Feelings talk with Bruce is nice, but he can feel sleep pull him back. Bruce just leans over and kisses his forehead. Which is pretty nice, Jason will admit to that in the privacy of his own head.

“He feels pretty guilty about it. Says it was his duty to look after the criminals while you freed the prisoners, who, by the way, all made it to safety. Maggie sends her love. I talked to Damian, but he's convinced that you being hurt is on him.” Bruce says.

“Talk to him tomorrow.” Jason whispers. He knows how Damian is, but this is totally not on the kid. Jason was the grown one, he should have made sure all the bad guys were actually knocked out. Now way he's having that discussion now, though.

“Sleep, Jaylad.” Bruce whispers, and as Jason's eyes fall shut, he feels Bruce's hand going through his hair. It feels nice. The other hand is still clasped around Jason's own hand. That's nice too.

He can deal with everything else tomorrow, he thinks, and let's himself fall asleep.

[hitchell-mope]

Ok I’ve been working on something for years that I hope to make it into a tv show one day but probably can’t because once upon a time beat me to it

So imagine

Michael darling single handedly stopped a war that was never meant to end at the cost of his life and to correct “something” the universe sees fit to tear open a hole in the fabric of reality which all cartoons bleed through. Disney Pixar Simpson’s marvel dc blue sky laika everything you can think of are now inhabiting the real world the only humans left are Wendy darling and her close family and friends

Disney’s taken over Great Britain and Ireland. Mickey and Minnie are the king and queen until they see fit to retire

Simpson’s are now in Hollywood Bart is filthy stinking rich and the Whitehouse is his mansion

So on and so forth

Main characters

Jane Ophelia Emerson: now known as Jaime aster blonde hair blue eyes around 5 foot 8 inches. Has magic like the whole of her mothers side of the family. Unlocks it when she meets Peter Pan for the first time. Like her mother and grandmother before her she fell for him hard. So imagine the bitterness when she discovers she wasn’t the first to fall for him and she won’t be the last seeing as he’s fated to be her son in law. She stops her and her friends physical aging process when she’s 16 because she’s terrified of growing up and having to leave everything behind. Gets married to three guys. James pleiades Hawkins from treasure planet. An evil bisexualversion of superman she was forced to create out of two variations of kryptonite (black and pink). William smees illegitimate son that he got from a hooker on the neverland pier. Padraic hutchins. And together they’ve adopted three kids not much younger then them. Youngest to oldest. Timothy Tiberius Turner. Horrid Henry. Alice Liddell. Preferred drink is olive oil until she decides to stop aging then she goes all out on the booze. She really does not like using mjolnir but that’s exactly why she can use it. She killed her own cousin after Peter Pan was taken advantage of. Speaks how she was raised. Posh. But the angrier she gets the more common she sounds.

James pleiades Hawkins: nicknamed Plei shoulder length brown hair turquoise eyes five foot nine. Space cadet. Made a little mistake in that he wished he had magic when holding an empty lamp. This means he’s now a genie but he can appear normal except when angered and he turns an olive green. His lamp stays hidden in Jaime’s blood stream. Very protective of his kids. From montressor but speaks with a middling California accent

Kal: under duress Jaime creates him by combining black and pink kryptonite (according to what I’ve read black turns him evil and somehow pink turns him gay I don’t know why so please don’t ask) so imagine a five foot eleven inch evil bisexual superman built like a tank flirting with anyone he sees. There are limits. He cannot go after anyone younger then Jaime or older then Wendy. Or anyone she is directly related to. Has a side thing going with she hulk (cause of that man of steel woman of Kleenex problem). Looks so much like Clark Kent (blue eyes jet black hair) that once the bitterness has subsided they eventually declare themselves twins. Actually talks with a Kansas accent (it’s a pet peeve of mine) hair goes to his shoulder blades

Padraic Hutchins: five foot ten. Mixed race but unless he showed you a picture of his father (mr smee who is like really white) you wouldn’t be able to tell. Dark black skin (think terry crews) dark blonde waist length hair. Emerald green eyes. Met Jaime when he was working as cabin boy (and hooks personal stool master) on the Jolly Roger. Jaime offered him a deal. Sword fight just him and her. She wins he becomes her butler and all that entails. He wins she becomes his butler and all that entails. It comes to a stalemate. He decides to go with her though. (If you had to wipe hooks ass wouldn’t you leave given a chance) invents a new method of killing when getting revenge on a racist homophobic cop in Springfield. He may look like terry crews but speaks like Katie McGrath (his accent is Dublin posh)

Merida: jaimes best friend. Scottish. Really really curly bright orange hair halfway down her back. Grey blue eyes. 5”8. Harsh rivalry with Clarabelle cow Clarabelle keeps calling her fat by accident. She is not fat. The slightly barrel like figure she has is pure muscle. Moved in with Jaime after an absolutely blow out fight with her mother and hasn’t looked back since. Met Parker through tragedy. The were on an excursion with the parr children and dash died in front of her. Completely destroyed her for months. Tried to change everything about herself to feel better. None of it worked. Cut and straightened her hair. Tried to lose weight (just became addicted to caffeine). She even gave up archery (which if you know her is a serious cause for concern). And through it all Parker was there

Peter Benjamin Parker: the group calls him Parker because there are one too many Peters in the world and they needed to differentiate. Brown hair that grows out to his chin. Brown eyes. 5”9. Splits himself so he can have a somewhat normal life. There is now three of him. The original with Merida. Petey living with aunt may. Spider-Man. Parker actually grows to like the venom suit and through magic is actually able to control it. Realised he was bi when he kissed Padraic to cheer him up after Kal was being a jackass. Then harry arrived. Still has his native New York accent but it interchanges with a British accent after he’s lived in Kensington for some time.

Melody: Danish princess. Daughter of Ariel and Eric. Granddaughter of king triton. Black hair blue eyes. 5”8. Has a thing for blonde men. Was attracted to Cody before he told her he was asexual then she layed off him. Eventually gets with zephyr. Non practicing catholic except in one respect. Jaime gave her her own trident. Loves to swim. She’ll shrink herself down and use a wine glass if she has to. Always wears her hair in a ponytail

Zephyr: French Romani. Blonde shoulder length hair in a pageboy style cut. Green blue eyes. 5”9. Always wears the outfit he had on in his film only now it’s in an older more mature style. Smitten with melody when they met but she had a thing for Cody so he couldn’t say anything. He just got steadily more drunk. Scarily flexible. Likes to hang from chandeliers with his toes. Bit like a blonde Dick Grayson. Non practicing catholic in the same way melody is.

Cody Anderson: Swedish but has spent a lot of time in Australia. 5”11. Blonde hair long enough to braid. Keeps it in a man bun 90% of the time. Asexual. Much rather run climb or play video games then date or sleep with someone. Poor thing has been conscripted as Kals wingman. He absolutely hates it. He just tells the intended targets the truth and if Kal can’t seal the deal on his own merits it’s not Cody’s problem. Apparently can survive on one hour sleep.

Alice Liddell: one of Jaime Plei Kal and Padraics adoptive children. 12 years old. 5”5. Reality warper. Mostly this means she can make a portal to wonderland through any surface. But then she gets magic and all bets are off. Adopted because we birth parents were about to have her committed to an asylum because she kept insisting wonderland is real (it is of course but they have literal Victorian sensibilities and to them Alice has cracked) favourite Dad is Plei. Blonde hair half way down her back. Blue eyes. Actually does look like Jaime a little bit except Jaime’s hair is more of a tawny gold colour and Alice’s is more yellow. Like Jaime defies the dumb blonde stereotype. Uses her powers in very creative ways. Eventually ditches the pinafore

“Horrid” henry: except not really. His biological parents are just jackasses who scapegoat him so the worm is the professed golden child. Reddish brown hair and definitely fulfils the firey redhead stereotype. But manages to use it in helpful ways after Henry’s his own magic. Loves his chemistry set. Many a stink bomb was made from it. 5”4. 11 years old. Green eyes. Favourite Dad is Kal. Again like Zephyr, he always wears the same outfit. Adopted because Jaime could see that he was miserable at his own house and was always happiest when she was babysitting him.

Timothy Tiberius Turner: brown hair blue eyes pink hat. Still has his fairy godparents because Jorgen Von strangle is terrified of Jaime (the girl unionised death). Not stupid per-say but he doesn’t think things through. Favourite Dad is Padraic. Adopted after Jaime went to talk to his fairies and saw his babysitter strapping him to a torture wheel. Definitely the baby of the group being 10 years old

Harry Osborn: 5”9. Black hair blue eyes. Bi. Enters a relationship with Parker and Merida. Hung up on Parker for longer then he’d care to admit. But always believed (as Parker did) that he was straight. Strikes up an odd friendship with Jaime over the “Peters who have ruined their lives” (Parker and Pan) the only difference Osborn is now with his Peter and Jaime doesn’t love her one anymore. He revels in the fact Parker feels the need to protect him and their respective positions in the relationship have changed. Was dying before he used magic to cure the unknown disease that would ravage his body. Couldn’t use his fortune to find a cure because his fathers will stipulates that he’d be disinherited if he tried to cure himself. That and he wanted to defend himself properly should the need arise

Ashton Darling: Jaime’s cousin born in the same hospital month day and the exact same time. Shoulder length tawny gold hair blue eyes same height as Jaime. It’s a running gag that he and Jaime look so much alike they could easily be the same person cloned and don’t think that before puberty when her hair was shorter they didn’t pull pull a twin switch. They even have the same taste in men. Fictional with bright eyes. Expected a bigger reaction from Jaime when he came out to her. She knew and they carried on as normal. Eventually starts dating Jack Frost from rise of the guardians. His parents are fans of that 70’s show. His younger brother is called Topher

Jack Frost: pure white hair blue eyes. 5”9. Always in the same outfit. Guardian of fun. Has a sibling like rivalry with Elsa. She thinks he’s annoying and he thinks she’s boring despite them having the same powers. In Jack Elsa sees what she could have had. Yes Jack was lonely but he made the best of it for centuries and he had people to talk to (North toothania bunnymund and Sandy) whereas Elsa retreated into herself scared of going near others. Though they come to an understanding and when Jaime gives the shovel talk to Jack Elsa gives the shovel talk to Ashton. Ashton and Jack met in similar circumstances to Merida and Parker except the Ashton and Jack’s weren’t nearly as tragic as Merida and Parker

Taran: 13 years old. 5”6. Red hair green eyes. Dalbens ward but somehow ends up staying at Jaime’s (admittedly insanely cavernous) flat more then necessary and everyone knows why except him. Alice has taken a shine to him. He doesn’t quite know why. Gurgis still attached to his hip. He and Eilonwy drifted apart but they are still friends. Has next to no idea what’s going on more than half the time

Felicia Hardy: old friend of Harry and Parker. The friend that would not leave. Her father died and she still is not over it. Cinnamon colour hair hazel eyes. 5”8. Hapless. That is until the symbiote infects her and almost starts a war with the galactic federation.

Johnny Storm: like Parker the group just call him storm. 5”9. Mid length spiky blonde hair. Blue eyes. The human torch. Enters the group by happenstance. Works at Oscorp on an intern. When Parker took the fall for what Felicia was blamed for harry had a bit of a panic attack demanding that he and Parker weren’t separated again so to assuage him Parker takes him on a holiday in a private suite in the death hotel. But then Storm arrives with this contract he needs harry to sign and it escalates from there so now Merida has three boyfriends who are also dating each other one of which is in intergalactic jail.

There are a multitude of alternate realities that are accessed through a full length mirror in Jaime’s flat. Some have diffoerent circumstances or flipped morality/genders or different outcomes. For example

Different circumstances: Clark crashed into the Wayne’s greenhouses and the shock set off Martha’s labour. Clark married a one Diana prince and had two children. Oliver Kingston Wayne and Barry Allen Wayne. Bruce is the drink uncle who accidentally joined a big brother program and Clark is making damned sure Bruce is honouringthe commitment. Oliver dances at a club to be self sufficient. Barry meanwhile is obsessed with chemistry. Clark stayed home with a sick Alfred that fateful night and has never forgiven himself. So he became superman to make sure something like that never happens to anyone else. Bruce however became a preteen alcoholic. Chardonnay is his drink of choice. Their pool cleaner a mr Arthur curry and their chauffeur is a mr Hal Jordan

Different outcome: Professor farnsworth took over New New York with an army of bending units aided by his insane son Phillip. Leela is Phillips personal slave. An impoverished Amy Wong is his public slave (Leela is a sewer mutant). Carol Walt Larry and Igner are incarcerated for trying to throw a coup

Flipped morality: Snow White, jealous of her fathers affection for his new wife, killed her father and blamed grimhilde for it. She learned dark magic and killed the queen in a mirror storm then took over the kingdom with only seven diamond armoured dwarfs. All when she was fourteen.

Flipped gender: Cendrillon used as servant in his own home until he’s able to go to the ball aided by his fairy godfather. The princess saved him with a glass slipper

You get the idea

The characters relation ships with their parents:

Jaime and Wendy had a major falling out because Wendy kept trying to put her solutions in alignment with Jaime’s problems. Eventually Jaime moved next door into a flat in Mickey and Minnie’s castle. And now Jaime’s the queen. Wendy is 5”10 tawny gold hair almost always in a bun. Blue eyes and always dressed in blue. Mid to late forties. Edward Emerson. Think Henry cavil in prime superman mode greying at the temples in either army fatigues or black denim. One year older than Wendy. Besides George he is the only mortal in the family and being mortal he can use a magic wand (no one quite knows why only mortals can use wands)

Plei’s mother Sarah looks the same as in the film. Now you need to go through trauma for your magic to settle. And Plei’s trauma is seeing his father Leland a gain in god know how long. It does not go well

Kal have a rivalry with Clark because Kal sees Clark as a wimp who is wasting his powers on helping people and Clark thinks Kal is a no good miscreant. Their parents though treat Kal the same way they treat Clark. Doesn’t matter if he’s a close W he’s their son. In return Kal values them and does not hate them like he hates Kal (high praise in deed)

Smee just wants Padraic to be happy and if that means Padraic being in England in an entirely different dimension then so be it.

Elinor got impatient with Merida taking so long to choose a suitor and then Merida decided to try and find a boyfriend from non options (read as she doesn’t love the clans sons). So they had a hard he blow out fight which led to Merida moving in with Jaime and she’s barely looked back since

May doesn’t know Parker is no longer st school and he is not planning on telling her. And besides she’s got Benji

Ariel and Eric know everything and as long as melody isn’t hurt they’re fine with it

Phoebus and Esmeralda are just like Ariel and Eric

Cody’s mother isn’t in the picture anymore

Alice’s parents tried to have her committed so their relationship is next to nonexistent

Henry’s is his parents scapegoat so his brother retains a veneer of so called “perfection”

Timmy’s parents are negligent and let him be babysat by a psychopath who repeatedly tries to kill him. His fairy god parents are crazy but at least they care

Norman put a stipulation in his will that if harry seeks a cure then he will be disinherited. So try to gage their relationship from that

John darling came out as bi and his wife couldn’t handle it so she divorced him and took Ashton and Topher to New York. John remarries Casey mulligan. Casey is actually Jamie’s ex husband (don’t get worried it was some stupid new law that all marriages in England are legal. Including playground marriages. Jaime and Casey’s happenedwhen she was five and he was nine). So they got a quickie divorce. And as it turns out Casey has a son from his ex girlfriend. Casey junior (get it?). So now John is a 42 year old divorcee remarried to a twenty year old with a 10 month old step son and two teenage children. Annalise got remarried to Ashton’s high school crush, his Australian swim coach

Jack’s family died a couple centuries ago so what accounts for his family are the guardians a boy who remembers him less and less every year. Elsa who sees him as who she could have been and Anna who just wants everybody to get along. Then there’s kristoff who just wants peace

Taran still goes to see Dalben henwen fflewder and eilonwy when he can

Felicia’s last words to her father were “piss off” so she desperate to make amends with his ghost

Well you know about the fantastic four.

Jaime has become a children’s advocate. Simple stuff like babysitting and making sure the recess gang isn’t split up. But she isn’t up to date on slang so when a mourning 13 year old Angelica pickles drunk dials her, Jaime has no idea what’s the girls saying. And she takes it upon herself to punish the “evil children” ie DW Reed, 3 year old Angelica Pickles, manny heffley, Francine nebulon the children the make their older siblings lives a living hell.

Simpson’s:

Jaime aged up the child population of Springfield by ten years. Barts twenty Lisa’s eighteen Maggies twelve and so on. She also given them special powers. Bart has super speed Lisa HAD telekinesis (she abused it so she losed it. Painful rhyme I know) Maggie has electrokinesis milhouse can ghost through objects Nelson can put national monuments on his pinky nail. Ralph can bend reality to his will. Sherri can teleport Terri can fly. That sort of thing. Though some have non active powers. Moe can not die no matter how hard he tries. Homer and barney have regenerative livers (so they can be sozzled all the time) Bart has inherited Montys fortune and company

[gwynne-fics]

Becoming Royals

the women of the court

Rachel was glad that Young-Do’s mood was high several days after the snowball fight. Progress was made on their school but Rachel still felt like something was missing. However, the most delightful news was learning Eun-Sang was assigned to Bo-Na on the days she wanted to be a girl.

It was easier to check in on her.

And Rachel kept looking for signs that Chan-Young had told Bo-Na who he was but there wasn’t any change in her mood so she didn’t know what to think.

“I think,” Eun-Sang suggested more gently than she ever had in the past. “You need to go to the ladies’ court today, instead of the school with Hyo-Shin and Prince Myung-Soo.”

Bo-Na made a face but nodded her agreement. “Song Ji-Sun is the daughter of the minister of finance. There are rumors that she checks all the books for her father and can do all sorts of maths in her head. Bo-Ah’s oldest brother is being considered for the minister of agriculture. And Yoo-Ra...” Bo-Na hesitated as she glanced at Eun-Sang.

“Yoo-Ra will most likely be the first wife of Lee Hyo-Shin because of her family’s ties to the ministry of justice and the wealthiest merchants in the capital,” Eun-Sang offered sweetly. “Queen Jae-Kyung involves all of the women at court in her charity projects. She has suggested you attempt to do the same once you are comfortable with them. After your game with the crown prince, the women are curious about you. Rachel, you need to spend more time with them.”

“I’m not good with...small talk.” It made her flush to watch Bo-Na and Eun-Sang exchange a look while Eun-Sang finished with Bo-Na’s hair. “I...”

“Girls scare you,” Eun-Sang teased. “You have no problem with boys but girls scare you.”

“Girls are scary,” Rachel tried not to pout. “I am a girl. I should know.”

“They scare me too,” Bo-Na said and patted her hand. “Especially, these girls. Hyun-Jin thinks Yoo-Ra is the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. She scares the shit out of him whenever she talks or walks past the officers practicing inside the palace. The other girl that scares him is Ye-Sol but he’s not stupid enough to mess with a prince’s gisaeng.” She caught the look on Rachel’s face but shook her head. “Myung-Soo plays favorites at the pavilion. I don’t think the gisaeng are scary. They are sweet to everyone, even girls that are sometimes boys.”

“I want that story some time.” Rachel had to admit they were right. It was just so easy with Bo-Na and she wondered if it was because Bo-Na was sometimes a boy. “Alright. Eun-Sang, if you could let Hyo-Shin know I won’t be there today. He can tell Prince Myung-Soo.”

“Rachel, the prince--”

“Until proven otherwise. He made the threat. I’m taking him seriously. If it was a test, he should’ve picked something else.” She caught Eun-Sang rolling her eyes but she didn’t argue with Rachel. She tried to ignore the way her palms started sweating as she and Bo-Na went to join the informal women’s court in Queen Kyung-Ran’s part of the palace.

Everyone was welcoming and encouraged her into their circle. Rachel envied Bo-Na’s bright enthusiasm. She just settled herself in and managed to get a conversation going. Although, Rachel still didn’t like the way Bo-Ah and Yoo-Ra looked at Bo-Na.

Rachel did this for three straight days. She didn’t talk much and just listened. She had to admit, Yoo-Ra and Bo-Ah weren’t...bad...when they weren’t looking at Bo-Na askance. But it was Bo-Ah that finally broached the curiosity of her relationship with Young-Do towards the end of afternoon tea when a message arrived from him.

Rachel opened it and couldn’t stop her smile. She liked Young-Do’s straightforward prose. Hyo-Shin’s poetry might have been more lyrical but Young-Do asking to meet her in the stables for an afternoon ride made her blush.

“Princess...” Bo-Ah worried her lip between her teeth. “We’ve heard that you are a love match to our prince...We would like to hear the story about how it happened...We’ve never...seen him so playful before.”

Rachel caught Queen Kyung-Ran smiling into her tea as Rachel quickly penned Young-Do a response as she tried to gather her thoughts. Bo-Na also giggled into her cup. Rachel couldn’t talk about the cave or the attack by the Kim family or even moonlight conversations.

“He didn’t make his attempt to woo me about him.” All at once, she had eager ears for her love story. “My school and housing for orphans is very important to me. The day he arrived, I was investigating dangerous rumors, about a butcher in my city. He...” Rachel smiled to herself. “He took my project seriously. I...” she bit her lip. “It was different than other men’s attempts. The man who arrived before him, did not listen. My prince did. I am unsure what I did to draw in my prince during that time but...he drew me in by taking me seriously.”

There were nods and murmurs among the girls and Rachel felt a sort of relief. She was like other girls and it suddenly felt important to relate to these women if she was meant to be their queen. Eun-Sang was right to make her be here. Bo-Na grinned cheekily as Queen Kyung-Ran actually teased her. “Stabbing the younger Kim son definitely helped. Everyone knows my son admires intelligence and strength.”

Another set of murmurs and wide eyes. “Stabbing?” Ji-Sun perked up. “So the rumors are true? You killed Kim Tan? The official report said it was your mother.”

“Lady Esther loves Princess Rachel very much,” Queen Kyung-Ran cut in delicately. “The official story matters for political reasons. Princess Rachel grew up on the border during our war. Even fine ladies need to be able to protect their lands when the men are gone.”

“I told you,” Bo-Na said bluntly. “I could teach you tricks if you’d let me. Women are not weaker than men. We just don’t always get a chance to practice. I’m a good teacher. I taught Princess Rachel how to throw the Crown Prince.”

There were some giggles. Several of the ladies had seen Rachel do it, followed by Young-Do rolling on top of her and kissing her...fervently.

“We could do it at my school site,” Rachel finally found her in. “My prince has found a way to gift me this project to keep my attention occupied before we marry. It has a roof and a covered courtyard now. I’m still learning the landscape of the city politics. I would appreciate and welcome any help from the ladies of the court.”

She held her breath and tried not to watch Yoo-Ra and Bo-Ah too closely. They were the leaders of the noblewomen. Rachel still had far to go to win over all the women. Being crown princess was not enough to establish her authority. Not yet.

“I would like to look at your accounting and budget,” Ji-Sun said. “And it would be fun to see a demonstration on how you saved your province from an invasion.”

“If the queen allows it, we could go during afternoon tea tomorrow.” Rachel’s stomach twisted as she hoped Queen Kyung-Ran would back her up. This was her court, not Rachel’s.

“Jae-Kyung has said good things about your school. I know Prince Myung-Soo is working hard to impress you and his brother. I will speak with Go Nam-Il about securing our safety. This is a lovely idea, Princess Rachel. I hope to see all of my beautiful ladies at the stables tomorrow.” Queen Kyung-Ran smiled at them just as Young-Do was announced. She laughed softly and allowed him to come in. He bowed to his mother. “What would you do if I told you that you couldn’t take your princess away because I want to keep her? You are too impatient today.”

Young-Do actually gaped at his mother and flushed at the laughter surrounding him. He looked at Rachel and she didn’t know if she should help him or let him flounder a bit more.

“You’ve had her for three days now. We have limited time today, Omeoni. I have Moonlight all prepped and ready for her. And--”

“You’re bored?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t have an assignment from the king. I cannot neglect my princess.” He sounded very desperate for a moment and Rachel decided to take pity on him and further their love story. She stood and bowed deeply to the queen before going over and taking Young-Do’s hand.

“Your majesty, I request to be able to take your leave. My prince and I haven’t seen each other since breakfast. This has been a lovely diversion and I am excited for our outing tomorrow. Please, allow us to go riding before the sun sets.” She held her bow until the queen relented with a chuckle and wave of her hand. Young-Do started to pull her away when she made him leave the door open, just a crack, before she encouraged him down to kiss her.

Rachel smirked when there was a collective sigh from inside the queen’s receiving room. Young-Do tilted his head and then grinned right before he half lifted her up and properly kissed her.