#I guess its more of a first impression on the ending rather than final opinion

[seysei]

Thoughts on the ending of Servamp (Containing Spoilers)

Okay. So.

I had decided to wait until the final chapter of Servamp was released before forming a final opinion on the ending. Now that it’s finally been released, I’ve taken some time to process it on my own, without knowing how others feel about it, so I could give my genuine and honest take on it.

I... unfortunately found the ending to be somewhat disappointing.

The main issue lies in the final two chapters, which felt so rushed that they failed to leave much of an impact on me– I didn’t really feel the shock, excitement, or joy that the events should (and could) have delivered.

And i don’t mean this in any condescending way– I genuinely loved Servamp, which is why the ending feels so... upsetting. It had so much potential– if only the events had been stretched out over a few more chapters.

With that being said, there were some decisions I personally wasn’t a fan of. They felt a bit forced, a little cliché, maybe? you name it.

Tsurugi’s sudden return and immediate confrontation with Mikuni felt rushed and, honestly, a bit awkward. Like. Tsurugi’s return makes sense within the context of the story, especially with the recurring theme of “calling out someone’s name” as a way to reach them. However, the way it was executed felt far too easy, almost undermining the emotional weight of it.

And while his return aligns well with the story’s themes, his confrontation with Mikuni feels misplaced. I personally believe that it would’ve made more sense for him to confront Mahiru instead, serving as a narrative challenge for Mahiru to come to terms with his death (which I’ll get into later).

This is not to say that tsurugi has no relevance in the themes surrounding Mikuni's arc– if you can even call it that. The theme of blood versus chosen family could have been explored just as effectively through someone else’s confrontation with Mikuni, someone Mikuni isn't just pissed off with, allowing for a more personal moment where Mikuni could genuinely listen and come to terms with the issue, rather than being forced to accept it, which ultimately leaves him without true resolution or peace.

And like, hasn’t this been the go-to for confrontations in Servamp? Pride, gluttony, greed, wrath. Each one leading to emotional growth, where the characters develop through understanding and acceptance. It feels unfair that the envy pair’s confrontation was cut short and kind of sidelined when they’ve played such a key role in the development of the story.

And by now, you’ve probably already guessed who I would’ve preferred to confront Mikuni.

Though honestly, this isn’t just about personal preference– it’s about what felt natural for the narrative. Jeje just seemed like the more fitting choice to confront Mikuni, considering how their relationship had been built up throughout the story, and moments scattered throughout Gluttony’s arc, as well as Chapter 125, seemed to build toward a much needed confrontation between the two.

A moment between them could have given Mikuni the chance to face his pain and begin finding peace– not by pushing him toward a resolution, but by allowing him to feel properly understood. Seen, rather than judged.

Jeje has been shown, more than anyone, to genuinely understand Mikuni, at least in the ways Mikuni can be understood, and does so without judgment. What I mean is that Jeje’s approach has always been one of quiet understanding and restraint, never forcing Mikuni into a box or an easy solution, unlike others. It’s not about fixing him or forcing him to change, but about giving him the space to confront his struggles and, hopefully, begin to heal.

Like, come on, wouldn't it have been perfect for the man with god complex to be confronted by the ex-priest? (T▽T)

With the way Chapter 148 went, though, it feels like all the buildup was brushed aside to quickly wrap everything up.

There’s this moment between them in the final chapter…

And it’s kind of like... aftercare, without the sex. lol. like. huh? okay? Jeje was so sidelined through the whole confrontation that this feels... almost empty, really.

I can’t help but feel like it would have meant so much more if Jeje had been the one to confront Mikuni. Not to change him or force some convenient, happy ending for himself, but to offer him the comfort he so clearly needs.

In the end, this moment could have led to Mikuni realizing that he’s better off without his family– a realization that makes so much sense given everything he’s been through. For countless reasons, Mikuni’s connection to his blood family has been toxic, and that’s why I was genuinely shocked when the decision was made for him to return. It felt forced and, frankly, out of place. There had just been a whole discussion about how blood family isn’t everything. Sure, it doesn’t mean everyone has to cut ties, but in Mikuni’s case? Shouldn’t that have been the turning point?

I wasn’t expecting Tanaka to have him go back to that house after what felt like a half-hearted acceptance, if you can even call it that, of everything Mikuni endured with them. It didn’t feel like true growth for Mikuni. It felt like a step back.

No matter how I look at it, in the final chapter, Mikuni doesn’t seem genuinely happy– certainly not in the same way Misono does, who essentially got the fairytale ending he always dreamed of.

Sure, forgiveness and second chances are important themes, but wouldn’t it have been a powerful and unique choice to have Mikuni walk away instead? Not everyone has to forgive, and not everyone has to be forgiven. I get that it's a tough choice to make, especially with the limited time they had, and that ending in particular being (as far as im aware) unpopular amongst the fans. That’s why I think Servamp could have used a few more chapters.

Honestly, the simplest way to put it is that the last two chapters felt a little inconsistent– not just with each other, but also with the chapters that came before them.

Mahiru’s role in these final chapters is another example of those inconsistencies. I hate to say it, but my guy didn’t really do anything– other than preach something he went on to contradict. I understand that Servamp isn’t a story where progress only happens when the main character is involved, and honestly, I love that about it. But this was the final battle. Giving all the spotlight to Tsurugi, especially when he already had so much focus during C3’s arc, felt like such a missed opportunity.

Oh god, everytime I mention tsurugi it sounds like i hate him i feel so bad XD seriously though, I love him– but come on!

Sure, Mahiru wasn’t the right person to deal with Mikuni, but that’s exactly why I think it would’ve been more fitting for him to get his moment through a confrontation with Tsurugi instead. This could have been a chance for the narrative to challenge Mahiru to accept Tsurugi’s death– just like he once challenged Mikuni to accept his family’s fate.

And that brings me to something that’s felt off for a while now, even before the ending. There’s a contradiction in the narrative being pushed throughout these chapters. It had been pushing this theme of accepting people’s choices and mistakes, no matter how flawed or tragic they might be.

Yet, it contradicts this message by changing Mikuni’s decisions and actions, no? While extreme, his choices were his own, and the story had emphasized that even bad decisions deserved understanding. So why was Mikuni’s attempt to rewrite his past– however messy and full of loss– condemned, while rewriting the past to undo the mess and losses during August was apparently acceptable? It felt like the narrative was suddenly rejecting the very ideas it had been building up to, leaving the ending feeling inconsistent and unsatisfying to me.

And sure, Mahiru wasn’t the one to directly make it happen, but his willingness to do so and his suggestion alone should still count.

If the hypocrisy here had been acknowledged, it could have added depth– I’m all for flawed protagonists, after all. But instead, it feels like it's been treated as more "reasonable" or "fair" compared to Mikuni’s re-writing of the past.

And that has me like...? I'm failing to see how it's any different?

Now, take this with a pinch of salt since the official translation isn’t out yet, and I’m not entirely sure if Touma’s conversation with Mahiru addressed this contradiction. If it did, then hooray.

Because what seemed like the best way to handle it would have been either to address it and, as I've mentioned, use it to add depth, or to have Mikuni reconsider and change his own decision. Otherwise, it feels odd that the person who (genuinely) preached against changing others' choices ends up doing it himself for his own convenience, and it's completely accepted, although the antagonist had just been condemned for it.

wwwww... am I being too harsh about it? XD

While this is a critique of the ending, I want to make it clear again that it’s not meant to be disrespectful towards Tanaka-sensei. It comes from a place of appreciation and investment in the story. It’s because I care so much about these characters and themes that I feel compelled to share my thoughts on how the conclusion played out honestly. It’s easy to just call it a good ending simply because everyone is alive and seemingly happy. However, I wanted to take the time to offer a genuine, albeit somewhat critical, evaluation of the final events, because a story as great as Servamp deserves it.

To sum it up, I feel the ending was a bit rushed and didn’t quite match the usual pacing and flow of Servamp. Personally, I’m not sure this was the direction Tanaka had in mind from the start, based on certain elements in the story. But if it was, I respect their choices, even if I don't necessarily agree with all of them.

On the bright side, most of the questions about the Count were answered, and the whole idea of him being an 'entity born from people's emotions' really suits his character.

There are other things worth mentioning, such as the truth about Mikuni's " My fair lady" ability.

In the final chapter, it is revealed that Mikuni's ability isn’t just about the act of murder itself– it’s also about the guilt that comes with it. It’s about the weight on your heart, whether you actually committed the crime or not yourself.

The guilt you feel for it, the emotional burden, replaces the weight of the act itself, and becomes what kills you.

This matches the method of hanging used in the ability, which often symbolizes suicide– because it’s like you’re killing yourself, consumed by the weight of your own guilt.

And this... ties back to a central figure in Mikuni’s life, his mother, Kiriko, whose guilt consumed her and drove her to commit suicide.

So yeah.

The writing there is fire.

I'll have to see if I change my mind regarding certain things when the translation comes out.

[yuzu-all-the-way]

FaOI 2023 Makuhari Day 2 - Impressions

It's kind of what happens when people already know what's happening during the show - the hype dies down, quite a lot. I woke up at 6 a.m. randomly and found out MORE photos from Day 1 were published. Naturally, I wasted no time and saved them - I compiled some of them in the OP2, EX2 and Finale2 posts. Yuzu truly shines when he's in his element, or rather, on his element aka ice-chan ☺(excuse my poor attempt at a pun)

After saving the photos, there was still more than an hour to go before the second day of Fantasy on Ice 2023 began, so I decided to rest my eyes for a bit. I ended up sleeping through 3/4 of the show, so I missed the reports in real time about the 2nd day's opening. I quickly found the relevant posts and there wasn't really much info about it, but one thing that caught my eye - Yuzu, apparently, is acting very cat-like in the OP. I guess we'll have to wait until the live broadcast tomorrow to fully understand what that means or why he's doing it.

This time, the 4T was cleanly landed followed by a high-kick. With that trademark combination ticked, I can finally rest assured that FaOI has truly started and it's not just a fever dream. You'd have thought the photos are enough to confirm the reality of it all.

Once I caught up with the (not so much) info about the opening, I patiently waited for the second half to conclude and find out the shenanigans Yuzu was up to for his EX and Finale. In the meantime, of course the twitter timeline was losing its mind, still, at all the new photos still popping up from Day 1. By the way, seems like Yuzu did a layback spin yesterday in the Finale, but no one really said anything about it. Do excuse the poor quality, unfortunately, no media has made this public, it's a stock photo from Aflo.

There really can't be FaOI if Yuzu doesn't progressively get more daring by the day. Reports quickly started pouring in with the absolutely very important information that, at the end of IF, his new program, he took of the jacket and the audience lost it. I see taking off the jacket is quickly becoming a FaOI tradition. Apparently, Yuzu knows exactly how to serve and keep it interesting. Patiently waiting for the recorded broadcast on 9th July for this gem.

More about IF: I was too excited yesterday that I forgot to talk a bit about the program itself. Some footage was released on the news of what the program looks like. It reminds me of Ashura-chan, but not too much. It's a fast-paced program, it has two 3Lo jumps, and the most baffling detail: IT STARTS WITH A CAMEL SPIN. There's no program EVER that started with a spin - Yuzu keeps revolutionizing figure skating and that says a lot about his nature as a pro athlete.

The one thing I was truly curious about, though, was the finale wacko combination jumps. From the sound of it, there was no such thing yesterday, so I held out hope that maybe today there'd be something, and it was. A 4T3A (step out) - 3T (or 3Lo, depends on who you want to believe - once again, 9th July will reveal all).

Unpopular opinion, maybe, but I find it a bit weird that Yuzu is not nailing the jumps so early in the tour. I mean, we know last year he did perfectly well in the beginning, but as the tour progressed, he got more tired, so the jumps became less perfect. Anyway, with all that Yuzu has accomplished in the past year (wow, almost a year since he turned pro), a wobbled jump on the first day of FaOI and a small error on a combination jump on the 2nd day (after an intense solo program, might I add) it's perfectly alright.

All that matters is that Yuzu is having fun and he keeps surprising us. He said a while ago he feels like he's running out of ideas, but Fanyus seem to have an abundance of them and maybe, just maybe, Yuzu is taking inspiration from them. For example, Henni147 suggested in her Challenge4Yuzu thread that he should start a program with a spin - he did 😉

[bestofbucky]

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning. 

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence. 

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted.  You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat  with  Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m  allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’  You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

 A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She  pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange. 

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier. 

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’  You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain 

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

[knivescharade]

时尚芭莎 Harper’s Bazaar | Xiao Zhan Wang Yibo: Ask not of whence we came, but where we will go

Xiao Zhan

White t-shirt, brown knit turtleneck, black wool sweater with zipper – Prada

Black trousers – Lanvin

 Wang Yibo

Floral short-sleeved shirt – All Saints

White cowboy jacket – JTKZHENG

<The Untamed> is Xiao Zhan’s first time filming at “Heng Country” (i.e. Hengdian World Studios), and it is also Wang Yibo’s first time filming an ancient drama. Just how much charm does the <The Untamed> have to earn both young actors’ first times? #Harper’sBazaar# #XiaoZhanWangYibospecialedition, let’s talk about their first times, and their stories of youths in the jianghu~

Xiao Zhan

Black open shirt – Uma Wang

Black agate gourd necklace – Qeelin

 Wang Yibo

Black shirt – Heaven Gaia

Black long-sleeved shirt – Yohji Yamamoto

Black leather belt – model’s own

Xiao Zhan - A smiling journey between worlds

Xiao Zhan somewhat “dislikes” Wei Wuxian’s propensity for crying, and he spent the entire filming period with constantly reddened eyes.  Those few months of filming, from Hengdian to Guizhou. Xiao Zhan has finally said goodbye to Wei Wuxian, and advises him, “Wei Wuxian, don’t pretend to be strong anymore, take good care of yourself.”

The image of Wei Wuxian, in Xiao Zhan’s mind, is that of a “very naughty teenager.” Despite experiencing so much hardship, Wei Wuxian is still able to maintain his cheerful demeanour. There are lots of times where we have to face something we do not want to face – and that is the only way we can become stronger. “That is growth,” Xiao Zhan says.

In the show, Wei Wuxian chose to face life with his emotions bared, smiling and scolding as he goes. Xiao Zhan has discussed this with the screenwriters – how can a person who has undergone so much misfortune still be able to smile? And finally, Xiao Zhan found the character’s foundation: “Wei Wuxian’s temperament is a kind one, an optimistic one. A temperament like that would not change, no matter how the story progressed.”

Black jacket – Sean Suen

Black wide-legged trousers – Yohji Yamamoto

Xiao Zhan’s favourite scenes were during Wei Wuxian’s growing years in Lotus Pier – he feels that it is a warm and caring place. The motto of Lotus Pier’s Jiang Clan is “To attempt the impossible.” “So, within that broad expanse of what is morally right, you are free to grow in however way you want.” Xiao Zhan explains.

It was love, and its support, that allowed Wei Wuxian to experience the drastic changes in his life without turning evil. Xiao Zhan says, “Wei Wuxian’s upbringing at Lotus Pier instilled a correct set of values in him.”

To Xiao Zhan, Lan Wangji is “principled and calm, a person who talks little but burns with feelings inside.” As for his first time working with Wang Yibo, Xiao Zhan is full of praises, “It was quite easy to get into character, acting with him. When I first met Wang Yibo, I felt like this person has a sort of cold aura to him, a sense of distance. That sense of strangers, do not interact – Lan Wangji is like that.”

The “reunion” between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, sixteen years later, is the climax of the entire show. They filmed that scene from 8pm at night to 4am the next morning, Xiao Zhan remembers. The scene had very high requirements of the actors’ emotions, and the camera angle, blocking, and aesthetic of the scenes had to be coordinated perfectly. “It took quite a while.” Xiao Zhan says.

<The Untamed> is Xiao Zhan’s first time filming at “Heng Country”. “It lives up to its name – it has everything. I can take two steps and bump into a friend!” Xiao Zhan comments with surprise.

During break times between scenes, the young adults of the cast would gather round to play games. Wang Yibo, the gaming aficionado, often scorns Xiao Zhan’s not-so-good gaming skills. “I just feel that, is there a need to be so serious about entertaining fun.” He is of the opinion that everyone having a good time is enough for him.

“I would like to try acting as a charming, black-hearted villain.” Xiao Zhan replies earnestly, when asked what other kind of role he would like to try. He hopes to portray a character who has a personality completely opposite of his, in the future.

Black high-collared shirt – Calvin Klein Jeans

Black wool sweater – Acne Studios

BAZAAR X Xiao Zhan

Q: What is something you most want to say to Wei Wuxian?

A: Stop pretending to be so strong, take good care of yourself and your loved ones.

Q: Of the whole filming period, what is something unforgettable that you may, perhaps, remember for the rest of your life?

A: There was one scene that required filming in the water, a manmade lake, made by the crewmembers.  The initial plan was to film that scene right after  shooting commenced. During then, the weather still wasn’t very cold, and the water was very clean, but we ended up dragging it out for about one or two months before we finally shot it. By then, the weather had gotten cold, and the water had gotten not-so-clean, and I had to submerge my whole body into it, including my head. It was truly unforgettable.

 Q: Looking back at the entire drama shoot, which scene are you most satisfied with? And why?

A: I’m pretty satisfied with the emotional scenes I did. But I have the impression that, filming this show, I basically kept filming crying scenes, crying and sobbing my way through. I’m also not sure why Wei Wuxian likes to cry so much?

Wang Yibo - The passion within an aloof teenager

His first time acting in an ancient drama, Wang Yibo had not expected it to be so difficult. The sweltering World Studios, the unnatural headpiece. He is much like Lan Wangji, a cold, wordless exterior hiding a burning, passionate heart. Wang Yibo’s comment on his portrayal of Lan Wangji, after filming ended, “You’re rather handsome.”

<The Untamed> is Wang Yibo’s first time filming an ancient drama. Under the sweltering heat of Hengdian, he experienced his first headpiece. During the performance, the headpiece pulls forcefully on the actors’ scalps, making the facial muscles rather tight. As a result, actors require a lot more control of their facial muscles to portray the required movements and expressions. “That’s why they say ancient dramas are more tiring,” Wang Yibo concludes.

Wang Yibo had to perform with layers and layers of costumes on him, despite the heat of the Hengdian summer. Though the robes he wore in the show appear elegant, they are still long draping robes, no matter how light and breathable the fabric is. Luckily, Lan Wangji doesn’t have a lot of lines. “No lines, so I didn’t need to memorize anything. But I had a lot of fight scenes.”

Grey high-necked shirt – Undercover

Grey half-skirt – 上下

Lan Wangji experienced three stages of his life in the drama. In Wang Yibo’s opinion, interpreting the older Lan Wangji was indeed difficult. But teenage Lan Wangji was what Wang Yibo anticipated the most.

It took Wang Yibo many tries before he grasped the real Lan Wangji, at the start of filming. “He has a deadpan face, but his mind is confident and planned out. His gaze had to be very firm. I didn’t grasp that at the very beginning, so it felt a bit like he’s sleepy.” Wang Yibo describes how he appeared at the start of filming. After some guidance from the director, Wang Yibo immediately altered his portrayal, and his gaze livened up.

In the show, Lan Wangji grew up in a strict, stern household. Solemn and dignified for his young age, he felt that “some things should be done properly,” until he met Wei Wuxian. It was this “mischievous but earnest” person who opened the doors to a new world for Lan Wangji. “It was Wei Wuxian’s appearance that changed Lan Wangji’s views.”

Wang Yibo, like Lan Wangji, is not a person who likes to talk. Despite his speechlessness, Lan Wangji is very confident in the things he is skilled at, and Wang Yibo is similar as well. In order to approach Lan Wangji’s body appearance, Wang Yibo lost a lot of weight, and his gaze grew calm and cold.

Once he puts on the robes of Lan Wangji, sunny, cheerful Wang Yibo turns into that silent and reserved youth, who has a mind and logic of his own.

White high-collared shirt – Allen Xie

White knit wool sweater – Short Sentence

BAZAAR X Wang Yibo

Q: What is something you most want to say to Lan Wangji?

A: You’re rather handsome.

 Q: Of the whole filming period, what is something unforgettable that you may, perhaps, remember for the rest of your life?

A: Something unforgettable that I may remember for the rest of my life… I guess it’s that smoke cake. Once we set it off, it feels like you can’t see anyone more than one metre away from you, that kind of scene.

 Q: Looking back at the entire drama shoot, which scene are you most satisfied with? And why?

A: The fight scenes were quite alright. As for a particular scene, let me think… When I first appeared, when Wei Wuxian first went to the Cloud Recesses. I think Lan Wangji’s coldness there was quite alright.

[Source: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/Lb7qRH5DIp47ICFLV17AXg]

- translated by knivescharade -

[missingmywing]

So I’m finally caving and talking about my theory for why SMT V felt so rushed and lackluster at the end, the way so many people have been complaining. And, in that, what I think was supposed to happen with it.

This is an analysis and theory, not a criticism. If you want to read someone bashing a game that disappointed you go find someone else. As an aspiring game dev in my senior year of Uni I’m going to be talking about the actual process of making a game while making some educated guess about what happened with this one.

So my main theory about why it felt rushed and lackluster: lack of proper time management, and shifted priorities.

(Much like KH3, which had the same problems for - I assume - the exact same reasons, that I’ll get into below.)

Okay so first off, my first and most resolute point: They were using Unreal. Rather, they were using Unreal for the first time. Key thing, there, is that switching engines means the team has to learn that engine, and that alone can take six months to a year.

Hi hello my team is dealing with that and while I’m super impressed with their progress, it can very much be an uphill climb if documentation isn’t great, or programmers have to learn an entirely new coding language. AI are a bitch and a half to make, especially within Unreal’s black box-type constraints - as my programming lead has complained to me multiple times - and SMTV’s were actually really good.

That’s my main level of forgiveness for them, and it’s the same one I gave KH3. That said, it is an issue in terms of proper time management. The team put so much time into making the gameplay flow well and making the art look amazing that they left the overarching story things until last, with the age old reassurance of:

“Once the bones are in place the story will slot right in wherever we want! Let’s focus on making sure we understand the engine and gameplay first.”

no I am NOT projecting shut up

That is, in my opinion, the major fault of why and how the game had the story issues it did in regards to the endings. The devs focused on other things first, then realized towards the end that they were running out of time, development was taking longer than they thought, and they had to get the endings done. They re-analyzed the time they had, and realized they had to cut some things.

My theory about the main thing that was cut?

The actual secret ending.

My guess is that they planned and made the main three endings first, which is why Law and Chaos feel complete - even if Lucifer’s… thing… is kind of glossed over. (Which again, felt like a “we ran out of time - here’s a vague info dump for you to extrapolate from” move.) They may have felt a little rushed, yes, but they still felt final. And as someone who went back to look at Nocturne’s endings after I finished… V’s were still more complete than whatever the hell happened there. Freedom and Secret endings were the only ones of Nocturne that didn’t feel incomplete and half-assed. The others felt literally copy pasted -

Okay I’m not going to rant about a game released a decade and a half ago being lackluster in four of its six endings because it was very impressive at the time and also it handled the alignment decisions much better. I’m actually not even disappointed in it - just how people are comparing it against V and whining about V. It was great about alignment decisions and making the sides very clear cut, which I assume was the goal.

Moving on.

Law and Order could have been a bit more fleshed out, a few more differences between the style of the paths and how you face the bosses would have been nice. But honestly, from an in-universe point of view, it makes sense. Also the games were designed to be played, not watched on YouTube, so that’s not really so much their fault because it’s not as obvious while playing. The actual path choice definitely could have been improved, but I can’t tell if that was a deliberate choice that didn’t work, or another cut. Hard to say.

Mooooving on to: Neutral

Here’s where I make my point in my theory:

The secret ending was supposed to be the base Neutral ending. Yakumo doesn’t even hint about it - he flat out says it. Many times. “My goal is to eliminate all demons from this world.” It’s not a secret side quest, it’s literally in main story cutscenes. It makes no sense for it to be a “surprise secret” twist, because it’s not. Add on how ridiculously short and definitely rushed the “base neutral” ending was and it was very clearly a sign of cuts and alterations. My guess is that they had the base three mostly done, but realized that they didn’t have the time to make the secret ending because (to my theory) it would be the most complicated and add on a lot of differences within the last area. So they instead cut apart the neutral ending and pasted the second part of it to the secret ending requirements. Which was why it felt disjointed and a bit tacked on - and why it was specifically connected to the neutral endings. blah blah coding blah blah shortcuts I’m not going to get into coding logic and or how Unreal’s variables and components work because it’s complicated and I’m not a coder so most of this is educated guessing anyway based on general workflows.

Alright then, what was the secret ending supposed to be?

I think that the secret ending was the one that you teamed up with Khonsu and Miyazu. The requirement to even get the secret ending was, very specifically, to complete their quests and leave Khonsu alive. And to kill Shiva, but I’ll come back to that in a sec.

I’ve seen a lot of people wondering why the hell Miyazu was even in the game, and why her and Khonsu’s side-quest mattered. Especially given that they were both presented as titular characters - Miyazu was introduced alongside Yuzuru and Tao. Khonsu is literally on the box art.

Alongside - what’s this? The characters representing the other three endings. Hayataro is obv a stand-in for Koshimizu/Tsukuyomi bc spoilers. (Also it looks like Lahmu is there, but I’m not sure if he was considered for an ending at one point or if it’s just a reference to the Nahobino importance.) I’m also thinking that Amanozako was probably supposed to have a slightly bigger role at some point, because her arc was ALSO kind of just dropped, so there’s probably some cuts there too - though in this I have zero clue what they could have been planning there. Not important - this is about Khonsu.

So my guess is that there was originally supposed to be a fourth option at the Empyrean if you completed the side quests to unlock the secret ending (I’m not going to rant about the objectively bad design of the single-choice option - people have done it enough) that would most likely have you detour back to the Fairy Village to get Khonsu and Miyazu - unless they were already with you by that point. I’m not going to speculate details.

My general point is that the secret ending was supposed to be based around them, and Khonsu’s goal of a peaceful world without strife or illness. To make a parallel that kind of furthers my point by establishing theming: this one would have paralleled Nocturne’s Freedom ending, while Law paralleled Hikawa’s, Chaos paralleled Chiaki’s, and Neutral deviated from anything established in the series.

I’m purposely referencing Nocturne because it’s the most well known, and really encompasses the idea of SMT’s bare-bones story that distills the philosophical debates down to their core.

And I think it had to be cut because it would require a bunch of extra cutscenes, voiced lines, maybe another character model and moveset depending whether they planned to take the tragic route and have the two become a Nahobino anyway, as well as potentially more assets for if they showed what the world looked like after it was recreated and how that would look. Again, speculation. But it would definitely take some work, and it’s very likely they ran out of time.

Coming back to Shiva because he is actually important to this concept: Shiva has to be killed for this ending, supporting the “good ending without harm” idea. In the Law and Chaos endings, if you do not kill him before taking the throne then, theoretically, he continued gather Magatsuhi to destroy the world and your reign on the throne is going to be very short. In the current secret ending, you wouldn’t need to kill him first because he’s a demon. He’d get dusted with everyone else when you metaphorically snapped your fingers. The only way it makes sense is if he wouldn’t die himself so you had to do it, and as a “good ending” then it was supposed to be a world without strife. Meaning no dance numbers to blow up the world. Law, Chaos, and the current base neutral are just doomed to be destroyed, I guess. Lucifer makes no mention of it so I assume it wasn’t included in his magical fix-it that he beamed into Naho’s head rather than sharing with the audience.

Anyway, that’s my theory about it and honestly I’m pretty forgiving of it because it was still a good story, and if you actually take the time to explore and talk to people and pay attention, the whole thing makes sense.

I haven’t stopped yelling mentally about the Miman since I found out that they were failed Nahobinos who got cursed by the Condemnation.

You just have to invest in it, and I feel like most of the people complaining are the people who don’t want to take the time to invest with hunting down worldbuilding. As someone who idolizes Bioshock, that shit is my bread and butter so I don’t understand why people are acting like it’s an awful game just because it didn’t address everything, and left most of it to your assumptions and imagination. It gave enough, and it’s a pretty standard approach for an SMT game even if it was obvious that there were significant cuts.

I’m not crossing my fingers for a DLC finish because SMT doesn’t -

Actually wait they added the entire goddamn Labyrinth of Amala to Nocturne. It is entirely possible. I won’t get my hopes up too much but… I guess I won’t discount it entirely. Honestly I love the game for what it is, and am happy to write/read fanfic of the alternatives rather than bashing the game for having a development timeline it has to follow. And after the backlash P5 got for its continued delays, Atlas has probably cracked down and taken the “cut content over delay release” approach.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

Perhaps you'd like a an ask that's not discourse related? If so, then I wanted to ask you if you know what jin zixuan thought of jin guangyao?

Hi anon,

I appreciate your non-discourse-related ask 😉. Your question made me realise that the novel seems to explicitly avoid giving us any real sense of what Jin Zixuan thought of Jin Guangyao, or how he reacted to the ways other people treated JGY. It seems that JZX remained unaware at the time that Meng Yao came on his birthday--and literally got kicked out. At Phoenix Mountain, JZX stops being mentioned after JGY appears and while his mother mistreats him--he’s only brought back into the narration at the very end to scream at JYL. JZX is also absent the night that WWX goes to Jinlintai to confront the Jins about Qiongqi path and in the direct aftermath. But let’s dig for crumbs and make sense of gaps, and let’s see what we can infer from them.

We know that, originally, Jin Zixuan was the epitome of the proud Jin: “The ways of the Jin Sect were proud, and Jin Zixuan inherited every single drop of this. With his high standards, he had been unsatisfied with this engagement since a long time ago.“ We could wonder if the circumstances of JGY’s birth would have been something JZX would have judged him for. We know that he took offense to WWX’s persona, although it is not spelled out exactly what offended him specifically: “Because of this engagement, Jin Zixuan had no positive impressions of the YunmengJiang Sect, and had frowned upon Wei Wuxian’s behavior since some time ago.“ However, it’s unclear whether the circumstances of WWX’s birth influenced how he perceived his behaviour. All we know for sure is that two other Jin family members--his father and Jin Zixun--never forgot about it and brought it up. We also know that in the past, JZX felt comfortable ignoring people’s good will towards him if he felt he was motivated in his view of them, as he did with JYL in the past:

Jin-furen had brought him to Lotus Pier a couple of times. Neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Cheng liked to play with him; only Jiang Yanli wanted to feed him the food that she made. Jin Zixuan, however, didn’t really like to pay her any attention.

At the same time, we do know that JZX had a sense of righteousness, what with him standing up against Wen Chao at Dusk-Creek Mountain. Likewise, we see with the soup incident that at least when it comes to a low-level cultivator who is a servant, a good deed done towards him without trying to gain his gratitude is enough to earn his respect, and for JZX to take action to raise the standing of that person:

Cleverly, the woman never acknowledged anything, but instead denied it ambiguously, her cheeks flushed, making it sound as though she was the one who did it, but didn’t want Jin Zixuan to know how much trouble she went through. And thus, Jin Zixuan didn’t force her to admit it any longer. However, in action, he had began to respect the cultivator. He began to pay attention to her, even raising her from a servant to a guest cultivator.

JZX even tells JYL: “Don’t think that just because you come from a powerful sect that you can steal and trample other people’s feelings. Some people, even if they come from poor backgrounds, their character are much better than the former’s. Please watch your conduct.” This underlines that, regardless of his upbringing, and perhaps even views that he might have held at some point in his life, at this point JZX seemed to want to judge others based on their character rather than their background. Of course, we can wonder if that reserve of good will would have extended to his half-brother, especially one that could try to take his place as the heir. However, considering the circumstances, from JGY’s birth to JGS’s decision to give him a name that did not align him with the same generation as JZX, we can wonder if anyone ever perceived then JGY as someone who could potentially become the next sect leader, as seen in this exchange between WWX and JC:

Jiang Cheng smirked, “Don’t carry your sword, then. It doesn’t matter. But don’t provoke Jin Zixuan from now on. He’s Jin Guangshan’s only son, after all. The future leader of the LanlingJin Sect will be him. If you beat him up, what should I, the sect leader, do? Beat him up with you? Or punish you?”

Wei Wuxian, “Isn’t Jin Guangyao here now? Jin Guangyao seems so much better than him.”

Jiang Cheng finished wiping his sword. After he scrutinized it for a while, he finally put Sandu back into its sheath, “So what, if he’s better? No matter how much better he is, no matter how clever, he could only be a servant who greets the guests. That’s all there is to his life. He can’t compare with Jin Zixuan.”

At Phoenix Mountain, while we do not see JZX say anything out of line to JGY, he is present while his mother and Jin Zixun disrespect him: and we get no reaction written for him while that takes place--he’s mostly licking his wounded pride. We also know that this disrespect by his family towards JGY was the norm, so we have to assume that JZX would have been a witness to it in other situations. In the context of that specific scene, it’s difficult to to infer something concrete from that silence: is it agreement? complicity? a certain indifference to JGY’s situation? an unwillingness of rock the boat or to seem to publicly challenge his mother? or simply him just being too self-absorbed by his romantic woes?

The next scene that would have made for an interesting case study is the night WWX comes to confront the Jins about the camp at Qiongqi Path. However, JZX is absent that night. Conveniently, or as a means to maintain a sense of ambiguity between him and WWX, we thereby do not know how JZX feels about what happened. He is also absent during the aftermath:  “At midnight, in the Golden Pavilion on JinlinTai sat over fifty sect leaders from sects of all sizes. Jin Guangshan sat in the foremost seat. Jin Zixuan was away [...].” (interesting that CQL added JZX to that scene). Which means he is not there to react to the mistreatment of JGY by others or to react to the way JGY is clearly lying for the purposes of manipulating the general opinion on WWX and save the Jin’s reputation.

We also do not get to witness the conversation that leads JZX to come to Qiongqi Path to try to stop Jin Zixun. All we get is a sentence of dialogue from JZX explaining that he thought JGY looked strange which prompted JZX tp questioned him questions (we of course know that JGY was purposefully acting that way to get JZX to go to Qionqqi Path, so it’s hard to take that as a sign of clear familiarity between them that would have allowed JZX to read hidden emotions from him). Did JZX ask out of specific concern for or suspicions of JGY? We don’t know! It is interesting to note though that, in this scene, Jin Zixun refers to JGY as “A-Yao”, which the narration contextualises by telling us that Jin Zixun started calling him in a more intimate manner despite the original contemps he had held for him. However, when JZX mentions JGY to Jin Zixun, he calls him “Jin Guangyao” (for reference, Jin Zixun calls JZX “Zixuan”).

All in all, we get very little from looking at JZX. However, there is something to be said in the absence of any specific grievances expressed by JGY towards him in terms of framing how JZX may have acted towards him when they were both at Jinlintai. Indeed, when Jin Ling asks JGY why he arranged for his father to go to Qiongqi path, meeting his death, JGY mentions the unfairness of the situation of both sons, but never brings up anything JZX did specifically to him. And we know that JGY has a great memory which allows him to hold grudges.

Suddenly, Jin Ling screamed, “Why?!” He stood up from beside Jiang Cheng. Eyes red, he rushed toward Jin Guangyao as he shouted, “Why did you have to do this?!”

Nie Huaisang hurried to pull back Jin Ling, who seemed as though he wanted to fight with Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao returned the question, “Why?” He turned to Jin Ling, “A-Ling, then could you tell me why? Why is it that even if I face everyone with a smile, I might not even receive the lowest form of respect, while even though your father was extremely arrogant, people flocked to him? Could you tell me why we were born from the same person but your father could relax at home with the love of his life playing with his child, while I never even dared be alone for long with my wife, shivering out of fright at first glance of my son? And I was ordered to do such a thing by my father as if it was natural—to kill an extremely dangerous figure who could flip out and conjure up a bloody massacre with his corpses anytime!

“Why is it that even though we were born on the same day, Jin Guangshan could host a grand banquet for one son, and watch with his own eyes how his subordinate kicked his other son down Jinlintai, from the first stair to the last!”

He finally revealed the hatred hidden deep within him. It wasn’t directed at neither Jin Zixuan nor Wei Wuxian, but rather his own father.

As a result, we might infer that, at the very least, JZX never directly acted towards JGY in a way that reflected how JGS or Jin Zixun (at some point) treated him. At the same time, it’s difficult to suggest that he stood up for him when other people disrespected him, and we know that JZX’s mother disrespected JGY in lieu of directing her anger toward the real culprit, her awful husband. Little seems to suggest that they grew intimate after JGY came to Jinlintai. It’s really hard to divine, as a result, what JZX might have thought of JGY.

The most interesting thing to take away from this is that it seems absolutely deliberate on MXTX’s part to show us as little as possible in terms of interactions between JZX and JGY. We can speculate as to why that is: to separate JZX from the machinations of this sect? to avoid giving us more ammunition to guess that JGY was behind JZX’s death? to ensure that WWX remains ambiguous towards JZX? or just as a means to avoid having to figure out how to work this dynamic into already complicated scenes and character relationships? etc.

[contemplativepancakes]

five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose. ~6k. Read on AO3 here!

i.

“Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room. 

It’s been a long night, and Geralt would like nothing better than to collapse into bed, but trouble has a habit of following Jaskier like flies to shit. He’s the whole reason Geralt even has a bed for the night, so Geralt sighs and follows the shouting. 

He wishes he could say he’s surprised when he rounds a corner and Jaskier runs head first into him, but honestly, it’s nothing short of expected. What does throw Geralt for a loop, though, is the fact that Jaskier is completely naked, expanses of smooth skin exposed as he sprawls back on the ground in a very undignified manner, clutching his nose. 

“Fuck, Geralt!” he cries, but it comes out garbled. “You broke my nose!”

The man who was chasing after Jaskier comes to a sudden halt, panting in front of them. “He slept with my wife!”

Geralt frowns. “Are you sure it was him?”

The man gapes and gestures at Jaskier’s nakedness. Geralt curses Jaskier for being so obvious; it makes his job much more complicated. 

“Maybe he can give you some tips on how to satisfy her so she doesn’t feel the need to look elsewhere next time,” Geralt suggests, one hand coming up to casually rest on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his belt. 

“It’s all about the tongue,” Jaskier pipes up in a nasally tone, and Geralt rolls his eyes. 

The man’s eyes dart from Geralt to Jaskier, and back to Geralt before a look of realization crosses his face and it drains of color. “You’re… the butcher of Blaviken?”

“That’s him! So you’d best get back to your chambers if you want to keep all your limbs!” Jaskier crows, but only half of it is intelligible through the hand he’s holding to his nose. 

The man looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he bites his lip and retreats, after one last withering glance at Jaskier. 

Geralt turns to Jaskier, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in exasperation. “I’m not always going to be around to clean up your messes, you know.”

“I’m fairly certain you have a much longer life expectancy than me,” Jaskier lisps, looking up at Geralt with doe eyes. 

Geralt sighs and sticks out a hand to help Jaskier up. 

Jaskier takes it, his fingertips lingering on the soft flesh of Geralt’s forearm, and heaves himself up. His hand stays on Geralt’s arm, and Geralt drags him back to their room. 

“Sit,” he says gruffly, rustling around in his pack for a clean rag. 

He steps over to the wash basin and dips it in before walking back to over Jaskier. He wipes the blood away from Jaskier’s nose gently, but an observer wouldn’t think so from the way Jaskier winces and groans.  

Geralt sighs. “Serves you right.”

“That’s just cruel, Geralt.” Jaskier squirms on the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap. 

Geralt resolutely focuses on his face. He squints at Jaskier’s nose, which is just the slightest bit crooked. “This is going to hurt,” Geralt warns. “One, two.”

Jaskier yelps as Geralt sets his nose back into its proper place, finishing up dabbing the blood away before he packs Jaskier’s nose full of gauze. “There,” he says. “Good as new.”

There are tears welling in Jaskier’s eyes from the pain. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he says weakly. 

“Maybe you’ll be able to go more than a week without cuckolding another husband this time.”

Jaskier lets out an indignant snort. “Hey, sometimes I just sleep with the husbands themselves. Then I have to watch what I eat, though,” he blathers on, and Geralt is honestly impressed with the lengths of his chatter even when Geralt imagines it must be painful to speak. “Have sex with one wrong person, and all of a sudden everyone and their mother is trying to poison you.”

Geralt’s not sure how to respond. 

Jaskier sighs and turns over in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Try not to drown in your own blood.”

“Always nice to know you care.”

And then, almost too softly for Jaskier to hear, “Good night, Jask.”

ii.

Geralt jerks awake and sits up in his bed roll. The fire is crackling happily, a far cry from the smoldering logs Geralt would have expected. He looks around, and Jaskier is gone. Normally, this would worry him, but if Jaskier took the time to stoke their fire, that probably means he hasn’t been eaten. Most likely. 

The slight chance that something untoward has happened propels Geralt out of the warmth of his blankets. He tugs on his boots and follows the faint scent of Jaskier, a warm mix of wood smoke and contentedness, these days. 

His nose leads him to the river bank, and he hovers right on the edge of the tree line, scouting for any possible dangers. He doesn’t see any, but as he does his sweep, his gaze catches on Jaskier’s bare back and lingers there. There’s a smattering of freckles that Geralt can just barely make out, until they disappear when Jaskier dunks his hair under the water. 

Geralt knows that he should stop just standing here, should either reveal himself or just slink back to their camp and start packing things up, but he finds himself rooted in place as Jaskier rubs a rag over his shoulder blades. 

Geralt is half tempted to offer his help in reaching Jaskier’s back, but he knows how that would probably be received. 

Geralt is transfixed as Jaskier begins to sing, and he sinks down to sit with his back to a tree to listen. Jaskier is always wanting his opinion on his songs, so surely he’d be fine with this, right?

It's not fair, oh, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair, 'cause you make me ache, you bastard

And he'll say

Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you

'Cause if I'm stood here, then I'm stood here

And I'll stand—

Geralt’s jerked out of his trance of listening to Jaskier sing in his honeyed tones by a disturbance in the water, and Geralt focuses in on the ripples that are starting to froth before a drowner emerges, its scaly skin glistening in the morning light. Jaskier screams, and Geralt leaps from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword. 

Jaskier turns to look at the new disturbance with wide eyes, minutely relaxing when he sees it’s Geralt. Geralt jumps into the water, landing on the drowner’s back. It jerks and bucks, deceptively strong as it tries to toss Geralt off. Geralt hooks his hands around its neck, his sword gripped precariously. 

The drowner gives one last shake, and Geralt goes flying, his sword falling with a splash. There’s a clawed, webbed hand on Geralt’s head, forcing him under the water. He thrashes, trying to get free, but to no avail. Geralt keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his lungs start to burn as he continues to fight. 

Bright spots start to dance at the edge of his vision, getting darker and fuzzier now, and Geralt knows he’s right on the verge of losing consciousness. He’s unable to stop his gasp for air, but only water finds his lungs. He’s resigned himself to this being the way it ends when suddenly the grip goes lax and he’s able to propel himself to the water’s surface, gasping for breath. 

“Geralt? Geralt?” comes a worried voice, floaty and distant sounding. “Geralt, are you okay?”

There’s a pounding on his back, and water dribbles from his lips. A litany of curses follow and sharp tugs on his arm that lead him back to the bank. 

Geralt coughs and splutters, more water escaping him as he finally registers Jaskier pacing around anxiously... completely naked. Geralt chokes, and Jaskier is there in an instant, a warm hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. 

“You’re okay,” he croons with a gentle pat. 

Geralt doesn’t feel okay. He feels like he about died and is seconds away from doing it again via spontaneous combustion at the sight of all Jaskier’s skin on display. Geralt picks a spot on the distance and fixes his gaze on it. 

“Good thing you were around,” Jaskier says finally, and Geralt burns in shame at the thought of why exactly he was there. 

He’s lucky Jaskier isn’t running away in repulsion, like he would be if he knew the truth. 

Jaskier asks him if he’s okay yet again, and Geralt grunts. 

“Oh, goody, you’re well enough for monosyllabic conversation. Back to normal, then.”

Geralt grunts again, and Jaskier laughs, a delightful trilling thing. 

“Oh, here you go,” Jaskier says, handing Geralt back his sword that’s covered in monster guts and ichor. 

Geralt’s eyes do not bug out as the realization hits him. “You… you?”

“Well, it was drowning you! I couldn’t just stand around, now could I?”

“I...suppose not,” Geralt mutters, but in actuality, he can count on one hand the number of times someone’s actually come to his aid while he was fighting a monster. The most he can wish for is someone who won’t recoil as they patch up his wounds later. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit,” Jaskier pauses, “distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly. 

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you have a near death experience,” Jaskier muses, “Oh, wait.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to save your sorry ass so often.” Geralt shoves at him and instantly flushes red as his hand touches Jaskier’s bare skin and he registers again that he’s naked. 

“Put on some clothes,” Geralt mumbles, averting his eyes. 

There’s a heavy silence as Geralt waits for Jaskier to say something in response, some sort of rib, but nothing comes, just the soft swish of fabric as he gets dressed. 

Geralt grits his teeth. 

iii.

Geralt trudges down the rocky path, Roach just behind him. The trail from Kaer Morhen is downright treacherous at the best of times and fatal at worst, so Geralt would rather walk than risk Roach making a wrong step and sending them both pitching off a cliff. 

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome, after the winter Geralt has just endured. Eskel and Lambert took great pride in elbowing Geralt and making him the butt of their every joke, saying in glee that they could smell the longing drifting off of him. 

“Is Geralt in loooove?” Lambert had sang, until Geralt shoved him off his chair to shut him up. 

Lambert tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor, but he still wore his unbearably smug expression. Eskel had looked at him with soft eyes. “You could have brought them here, you know. I want to know whoever can make you happy.”

“Yeah, we all know how impossible that is for Mr. Melancholy,” Lambert said. 

Geralt shakes his head and puts his focus back on putting one foot in front of the other. The other witchers had endlessly pestered him about his plans for the spring, but Geralt hadn’t wanted to tell them. He likes Jaskier being just for him, and he had waited impatiently for the snow to melt in the pass. He was the first to set out, and he valiantly tried to ignore Lambert’s snickers as he left. 

Geralt is headed to Oxenfurt. He and Jaskier hadn’t made set plans to meet up, because it normally doesn’t take too long for them to accidentally on purpose run into each other, but this year, Geralt doesn’t want to wait. The winter had stretched out into much longer than normal, with biting cold and piles of snow, so Geralt is more than ready to be warm again. 

When the path finally stops twisting and turning, Geralt mounts Roach and picks up their pace a bit. It’s certainly only because he’s eager to sleep in a bed, never mind that he’s been sleeping in one all winter. 

Geralt pulls his hood up against the early spring chill and soldiers on. 

-

When Geralt finally arrives, several days and sleepless nights later, it’s just before dawn. Jaskier has always had a proclivity towards nocturnal behavior, with only Geralt’s need to be up and moving at first light tempering it, so Geralt doesn’t think Jaskier will mind the intrusion. 

Geralt ties Roach to a hitching post, promising to come back and find her a stable once the sun breaks over the horizon, and then he wanders until streets start to look familiar, and Jaskier’s cozy house comes into view. 

Geralt steps up to the door and knocks, and he definitely does not try to tame his hair into some semblance of kempt or get an anxious churning in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jaskier again. There’s no answer to his knock, so he tries again, but Jaskier still doesn’t materialize. Geralt tries the knob, and to his alarm, it’s unlocked. 

His first thought is one of panic—what if something’s wrong? Jaskier wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked; someone could walk right in and steal his lute. Geralt opens the door quietly and creeps through the dark house. There are no immediate signs that there’s anything amiss. There are only three rooms, and Geralt eases the bedroom door open to peek inside. He’s immediately arrested by Jaskier sprawled out naked on his bed. 

Geralt takes a hurried step back, but not before his eyes dart all over Jaskier’s body. He’s just taking stock of any new injuries Jaskier might have incurred while Geralt wasn’t around to protect him from the wrath of cuckolded husbands, that’s all. Jaskier looks paler and more gaunt than he was when Geralt left him, but Geralt supposes that’s just a side effect of winter. 

Geralt retreats slowly, locking the door behind him and resolving to come back when the sun is high in the sky. 

Geralt stumbles onto the street, the early morning light making everything washed out as he scuffs his boots along the ground. He meanders back the way he came, deciding he’ll stable Roach and then see about something for breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry in his haste to get to Jaskier, but now that his enthusiasm has been tempered, he’s starving. He tries to remember the last time he stopped to eat something more substantial than whatever he could pull out of his pack. Two, three, days ago, maybe? 

Roach comes into view, pawing her hoof against the dirt impatiently. Geratlt huffs a laugh as he walks closer, untying her reins from the hitch and clicking his tongue as he leads her in a direction that he’s getting a big whiff of horse from. 

Geralt leaves Roach at the stables, with his usual stern frown at the stable boy and a chastisement to Roach to be good as she nips at his shirt. 

Roach taken care of, he sets off to look for something to eat, wondering if it’s too soon for Jaskier to be up yet. His eyes flicker shut for a moment as he thinks of the Jaskier’s robe, and how if he goes right now and knocks on his door, he might answer wearing that and nothing else. 

Although, if he does that, even Jaskier might be able to smell the lust rolling off of him. 

Geralt sighs and continues his trudge, until he stops in his tracks and redirects his path. He looks up at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s been long enough. Surely Jaskier is wearing actual clothes by now?

Geralt walks back to Jaskier’s home, the path turning from dirt to cobblestone as he gets closer. There’s a patch of grass peeking between the stones with three orange wildflowers growing in it. Geralt stoops down and picks them without thinking too much about it. 

Geralt carries the flowers loosely in one hand down at his side. When he reaches the steps leading up to Jaskier’s door, he pauses to steel himself, to try to prepare himself for if Jaskier’s whole chest is on display in his robe, but he’s interrupted by an obnoxious throat clearing. 

Geralt whirls around to glare at the person, but he’s arrested by the sight of a man scowling right back at him. “Hope you’re not planning to bother some nice girl, Witcher. Like anyone would ever want you.”

Geralt glances down at the flowers in his hand, and then back to the man, mouth flapping uselessly. He has a point. 

“She’s probably just too scared to tell you to fuck off,” the man sneers, and Geralt’s fingers itch to pull his dagger from his belt, but he restrains himself. 

He surreptitiously looks around for a place to drop the flowers. The man is right; this is a terrible idea. What is he hoping to accomplish with this? Just to make Jaskier smile? He’s an idiot. 

A door slams open, and then, “Well, I have no such qualms. Fuck off.”

Geralt turns around to see Jaskier—and thank fuck he’s wearing clothes this time, but he’s wearing that ridiculous lavender robe, with his leg jutting out right below where it’s knotted together. Geralt desperately averts his eyes, turning back around to frown at the man, but he’s disappeared. 

He looks at Jaskier, then, drinking him in after a winter apart. Jaskier makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat. “For me?” he asks, holding out his hands for the flowers. 

Geralt hands them over without comment, but he can’t hide the smallest of smiles as he follows Jaskier into the house, Jaskier chattering away about everything Geralt missed. 

And, gods, did he miss a lot. 

iv.

When Geralt bolts awake this time, Jaskier is gone again. Geralt would be concerned that just anyone could sneak up on him while he’s sleeping, but he knows his body has started to become in tune with the sound of Jaskier and it no longer deems it necessary to rip him from his sleep for just Jaskier padding around. 

Still, Geralt wipes the sleep from his eyes and slowly gets up to start disassembling their camp. Jaskier will be back soon, and then they can be on their way. Geralt casts his eyes to the horizon, noting the first rays of morning peeking over it. 

 Geralt ambles over to where he had tethered Roach to a tree and scratches his fingertips over her neck. She headbutts his other hand, impatiently waiting for her breakfast. Geralt huffs a laugh. 

Geralt has everything packed up and he’s been leaning against a tree impatiently for three minutes when he starts to get worried. Who knows what could be in these woods? There could be any number of things looking to make a meal out of Jaskier. 

Geralt paces in a circle around their doused fire. On one hand, Jaskier could be doing something like taking a shit somewhere, but on the other hand, he might be hurt. 

Geralt freezes when he hears a faint strangled cry, and his feet are moving even though his mind has barely registered the sound. Geralt crashes through the underbrush, uncaring about how much noise he makes or the thorns that tear against his skin, until he skids to a stop in front of Jaskier. In front of Jaskier, who locks eyes with him while his cock is in his hand and comes with an aborted gasp. 

Heat burns up Geralt’s face. “Sorry, I—” he cuts himself off and flees back the way he came. 

He berates himself as he walks back to their camp. They haven’t been in a town in over three weeks, why was that not what he expected? In all honesty, that’s why he hadn’t gone after Jaskier immediately, but after he heard him shout all of the thoughts of restraint flew out of his brain. The only thing he could focus on was Jaskier needing help. 

Geralt tries not to dwell on the thought of how Jaskier’s cock had looked, flushed and jutting out proudly. Geralt pulls Roach’s brush out of the saddle bag and works her over carefully, making sure every hair is going the same way and helping her shed her thick winter coat. 

By the time Jaskier stumbles back, Geralt had thought he had managed to put the incident out of his mind, but the sight of Jaskier proves him wrong. “Ready to go?” Geralt grunts. 

Jaskier opens his mouth and shuts it with a click of his teeth. “What are we waiting for?”

Geralt swings himself up onto Roach, and doesn’t let himself look back to make sure Jaskier follows. 

v.

Geralt’s eyes crack open as the door to the inn room squeaks. He grunts in displeasure at being disturbed, and then remembers Jaskier is supposed to be with the barmaid and bolts upright. The door is just out of view from the bed, so Geralt eases himself out of bed and picks up the dagger. He creeps to where the wall juts out and then jumps out on the other side, revealing himself. 

“Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?” Jaskier laughs nervously, and Geralt sheepishly drops the dagger onto the chair as his eyes widen. 

“What is with you and always being naked?” Geralt growls in frustration, trying not to look at the creamy expanse of Jaskier’s skin, marred with freckles instead of scars like Geralt’s. 

Jaskier’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Nevermind. Just—what is going on?”

“Ah. Right. That. I got…kicked out.”

“Did she have a husband?”

“Um, yes, yes, that’s exactly right. He did not appreciate the soiling of their marital bed.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly even as a pang of longing lodges itself right between his ribs. He doesn’t stop to examine it for too long. 

Geralt turns his back and slips back over to the bed. The one bed, because he had thought he would be alone tonight. Geralt sighs. 

There’s a quiet swish of fabric as Jaskier pulls on some clothes. “That was one of my favorite shirts, and now it’ll probably end up burnt or some other ridiculous thing.”

The doublet in question was a gaudy scarlet thing with obnoxious gold threading and beading sewn into it. The light always caught on it just wrong to shine into Geralt’s eyes and give him a headache. “What a pity.”

Jaskier shoves at his shoulder as he clambers into the bed without a second thought. Geralt swallows hard at the dip of the lumpy mattress, at the body what so close to his all of a sudden. Jaskier’s heartbeat thuds, and a peculiar smell drifts off of him that Geralt can’t quite place. 

Geralt turns over so that he’s facing Jaskier. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier buries his face into the pillow. The one pillow, that he tugs away from Geralt. “Nothing,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh. 

“Hmm. Well.” Geralt pauses and tries to think of a way to respond that won’t have Jaskier calling him an emotionless boulder later. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

Jaskier lifts his head up from the pillow to meet Geralt’s eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know that I was speaking to anything other than the wall when I talk to you.”

Geralt yanks the pillow out from under Jaskier and hits him with it. “Shut up.”

+ i.

Jaskier sighs as he unfurls his bedroll. He’s been unleashing heavy sighs about once an hour for the past week, and it’s driving Geralt up the wall. He’s asked Jaskier if everything was all right four separate times now, and Jaskier has brushed him off each time. 

“Jaskier, just tell me what’s the matter,” he begs after Jaskier sighs as he returns with water from the stream. 

Jaskier plops the bucket down right next to the fire, and some splashes out and douses the small smolder Geralt had got started. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls before Jaskier can even react. 

“Fine! You want to know what’s so wrong? It’s you!”

Geralt rears back, blinking rapidly. He wants to make a beeline for Roach and try to get the feeling of Jaskier’s eyes boring into his out of his mind as soon as possible, but he can’t just leave Jaskier high and dry out here all alone. Geralt shakes his head and turns away. 

“Wait,” Jaskier’s hand comes around to clamp onto Geralt’s wrist. Geralt nearly shakes him off, but then Jaskier is saying again, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes cautiously and arches an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. 

Jaskier rubs the back of his neck. “You know I got kicked out of that room the other night.”

Geralt grunts. “For cuckolding the husband?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly. I lied. There was no husband. Turns out some people aren’t all that impressed when you say the wrong name in the heat of things.”

“Jaskier, what does that have to do with—” 

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers. 

“Oh.”

Geralt is taken aback. He’s never had this happen with a human before. It’s… hard to imagine that a human could see him as anything other than repulsive, something to be tolerated just to part him from his coin. 

“And now I see that I’ve made a complete and total mess of things. I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

As Jaskier’s grip on his wrist loosens, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand instead. “You haven’t made a mess of anything.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen before he reaches the hand Geralt isn’t holding up to cup Geralt’s face. Geralt turns his head to nuzzle into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier leans forward to press his lips to Geralt. Their fingers become untangled as they move on, Jaskier’s coming up to twist in Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s stroking across Jaskier’s cheek bone. 

When they pull away, Jaskier lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow. It seems like I could have saved my hand some work while we were on the road.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s crudeness. 

“Come on, you know that was funny,” Jaskier wheedles into his ear. 

Geralt pushes him aside and crouches down to rebuild their fire. “You’re rarely funny.”

Jaskier claps a hand over his chest and splutters. “Okay, still incredibly rude. Nice to know some things never change, I suppose.”

Jaskier huffs and walks away, going over to feed Roach while Geralt attempts to find some kindling that isn’t damp. 

A smile tugs at Geralt’s lips. 

When the fire is roaring once again, Geralt wanders over to where Jaskier is now sitting against a tree. 

Geralt sits down beside him. “I do think you’re funny sometimes,” he admits. 

“You’ve already wounded my pride, Geralt; it’s too late.”

“And so if I offered you a… hand, you’d turn me down?”

Jaskier jerks his head up and turns to Geralt. “That is not what I said in any way, shape, or form.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, it doesn’t happen that night, or the day after that. It’s when they’re finally at an inn that Jaskier pounces on him. Geralt has barely shut the door to their room when Jaskier is on him. “I’ve been so patient,” he whines. 

Geralt raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Geralt, you’re impossible,” Jaskier huffs in exasperation. “Well, I’m asking now.”

Geralt kisses him, slow and sweet, and Jaskier groans his eagerness into his mouth. 

Jaskier’s fingers fumble with the clasps of his armor, until Geralt laughs and takes it off himself. When he turns back around after carefully setting all the pieces on a chair, Jaskier is already naked, and finally, Geralt allows himself to look. He drinks it in, notices the tiny scar Jaskier has on his thigh, rakes his eyes over Jaskier’s chest. He moves closer so he can comb his fingers down the hair between Jaskier’s pecs, and he preens at the attention. 

Jaskier reaches down to undo his trousers, and Geralt steps out of them. He takes off his shirt, and sheds his smallclothes, looking back up to see Jaskier staring at him. His soft expression turns into a self satisfied grin as he hums to himself. 

“What?” Geralt asks, already sure he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

“Nothing. Okay, fine, just—the carpet matches the drapes, is all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’s a mutation. Do you think I would choose for it to be white? What were you expecting?”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier pauses. “What color did your hair used to be?”

Geralt stops and thinks. “Brown, probably? I don’t remember.”

Jaskier whistles. “That’s terribly sad. Do you think your childhood would make a good ballad? I bet it would.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grits out. 

“Okay, okay. Insensitive, I apologize.”

Geralt pulls back, but Jaskier winds his arms around his shoulders and keeps him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing his nose against the delicate skin of Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt shudders and lets Jaskier distract him. It’s not like his childhood is something he particularly likes to dwell on, especially when there’s something much better for him to focus on in the form of Jaskier’s swelling cock judging against his hip. 

Jaskier presses up close against him, bracketing Geralt against the door and putting his palm flat over Geralt’s heart before he kisses him again. 

Geralt lets the sensation wash over him, the pleasant feelings and the vibration that sends a thrumming through his bones. He walks Jaskier back to the bed and lays him out, crawling on top and straddling him. 

Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Gods, Geralt. You’re beautiful.”

A hot blush rises to Geralt’s face and he turns away, but Jaskier takes his wrist. 

“Don’t mock me,” Geralt mumbles. 

“Darling,” Jaskier says, sitting up and taking both of Geralt’s hands in his. “I’m not.”

Geralt doesn’t know how to respond. He looks down at his body, littered with scars, some pink and small and some, long healed, white and wicked looking. “Hmm.”

Jaskier sighs and tugs Geralt in for another kiss, before he maneuvers Geralt so he’s the one laying down. Jaskier works his way down Geralt’s body, lingering on each scar until Geralt squirms uncomfortably beneath him. 

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh as he makes it to the soft inside of Geralt’s thighs, and Geralt starts squirming for a different reason. A whine comes from the back of Geralt’s throat as Jaskier continues to ignore his cock, throbbing and painful at this point. 

Jaskier finally has pity on him and takes him in hand, making Geralt sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier jacks him quickly, bringing Geralt to the edge faster than he would like to admit before he backs off and moves his hand. He goes back to tracing Geralt’s scars, his fingertips finding the one that cut through the muscle of his leg and healed jagged and rough. 

He hovers over a different one, looking up at Geralt with a question in his eyes. Jaskier’s wheedled most of the stories of his scars out of him, but this one—Geralt huffs. “I tripped over a rock and fell right onto a very pointy root,” he admits. 

Jaskier’s lips quirk up into a grin, and Geralt is about to chastise him for laughing when Jaskier directs his attention back to Geralt’s cock. 

Geralt gasps as warm heat envelops him, and his hand comes down to tangle in Jaskier’s soft hair. Jaskier’s other hand comes up to stroke the part of Geralt’s shaft not in his mouth and scoots further back to trail his fingertips over Geralt’s balls and ghost over his perineum to his hole. 

Geralt shudders at the feeling, and Jaskier pops off of him with a wet sound. “Can I—?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Geralt babbles. 

Jaskier disappears for a moment to rummage through his pack, and Geralt tries to slow his pulse. His heart is practically trying to thud out of his chest compared to its normal steady pace, so he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. 

Jaskier returns and settles himself between Geralt’s legs. Geralt lets Jaskier position him until his knees are bent and his feet are planted on the bed on either side of Jaskier. Geralt swallows past the lump forming in his throat as a wave of vulnerability crashes down on him. 

Jaskier must be able to sense his skittishness, because he takes Geralt’s hand in his and rubs soothing circles into it with his thumb. With his other hand, he rests the pad of his pointer finger against Geralt’s hole until he slips it in, a second finger quickly joining it. 

Geralt can feel himself tensing up, but he tries to relax, tries to let himself give in and just be boneless. 

Jaskier stretches him out until Geralt whines in anticipation. Jaskier chuckles and pats his clean hand on Geralt’s thigh. “I seem to recall you saying I was the impatient one?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls. 

Jaskier laughs again. “Fine, fine. I truly don’t understand why people think you’re so frightening.”

Geralt could list a few reasons, but he doesn’t want to kill the mood. He just grunts at Jaskier until he finally shuffles closer to Geralt and presses inside of him. 

Geralt’s head thumps back against the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the overwhelming fullness and the way the feeling radiates through his stomach. 

Are you good?” Jaskier whispers. 

Geralt nods, one of his hands finding Jaskier’s and tangling their fingers together, while the other grips the sheets as Jaskier begins to thrust.

He starts out slow, almost too slow for Geralt to bear, each slide dragging inside of him and creating delicious friction while the head of Jaskier’s cock nudges his prostate.

Geralt hums. 

“Let me hear you,” Jaskier says into his ear. 

Geralt looks off to the side, but Jaskier puts a finger on his chin and tilts his head back. “You’ve never been shy; don’t start now.”

Geralt stays sullenly even quieter than before, deliberately slowing his breathing. 

Jaskier laughs at his obstinance. “No performance review for me?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Geralt says breathlessly. 

“Who am I to say no to that?” Jaskier asks, and then there’s no more talking for a while, just gasps and moans as Jaskier slams into Geralt at a pace that leaves them both panting. 

Finally, Jaskier shudders to his climax and wraps a hand around Geralt’s weeping cock to bring him over the edge with him. 

Jaskier slips out of him and collapses onto the bed beside him, draping his leg over Geralt’s thigh, his fingers meandering their way again to the forest of scars that live on Geralt’s skin. 

“You’re lovely. Do you believe me yet?”

Geralt gives an unimpressed hum. 

“Well, lucky for you, I have the whole rest of my life to make you see reason.”

Geralt likes the sound of that.

[sophielovesbooks]

Mid Year Book Freakout Tag!

I’m a bit late to this party… but I wrote this a few days ago when I wasn’t feeling 100% after getting my second Covid vaccine and took the entire day off. So I finally had the time to write this :)

Let me pull up my Goodreads real quick and have a look at the 33 books I have so far this year.

1. The Best Book of the Year So Far

Hmm, let’s see. I feel like it’s fair to give two answers to this one, because on the one hand, there is the book that qualifies as “the best” from a literary perspective (at least in my opinion) and that would be CONVERSATIONS WITH FRIENDS by Sally Rooney. Definitely had its own style and felt… infused with a deeper meaning, at least to me. It was also very compelling. Personally, I couldn’t stop reading it. And I feel like it had a lot to say about modern-day relationships (romantic, platonic… all kinds really).

Then, there is the book that I personally enjoyed this most, and that was probably THE GIRLS ARE ALL SO NICE HERE by Laurie Elisabeth Flynn. It kind of felt like your standard thriller, but also not. While it was super suspenseful and fun to read, I also genuinely cared about the characters and loved the portrayal of toxic teen girls’ friendships and generally teenage cruelty in the context of wanting to be cool/to fit in. It made me reflect on a lot of things, so to me, it’s definitely more than a thriller that you forget right after reading it. And it also definitely qualifies as dark academia, and discovering a new DA book I love is always great! <3

2. Best Sequel of the Year So Far

Wow, I am NOT big on sequels. I have only read one this year, which is just further proof that I’m not very into book series and much prefer standalones. The only sequel I have read this year was also a very good one, though: MISTER IMPOSSIBLE by Maggie Stiefvater. Much anticipated by me and thankfully, I had a great time with it. :)

3. A New Release You Haven’t Read Yet But Want To

I’m going to go with MALIBU RISING by Taylor Jenkins Read! I was gifted this book by my boyfriend’s grandma for my birthday on June 29 (so sweet!) and I think I will read it next. I am very excited for this one!

4. Most Anticipated Release for Autumn/Winter

Two books I am VERY excited for are A LESSON IN VENGEANCE by Victoria Lee and IN MY DREAMS I HOLD A KNIFE by Ashley Winstead. I’m not even really sure why. I don’t know that much about either of them yet. But they just call to me, just like The Girls Are All So Nice Here did. And that one didn’t disappoint, so hopefully these two won’t either.

5. Your Biggest Disappointment of the Year So Far

Maybe THE GUEST LIST by Lucy Foley? I mean, it wasn’t awful. But I remember that I wasn’t impressed and had been expecting more somehow. Objectively the worst book I read this year would have to be THE SHARP EDGE OF A SNOWFLAKE by Sif Sigmarsdóttir, lol. But that one doesn’t count as the biggest disappointment, because I didn’t go in expecting that much. It was just an ebook that I bought for a low price at one point.

6. Your Biggest Surprise of the Year So Far

Definitely THE GIRLS I’VE BEEN by Tess Sharpe. I did not expect a YA thriller to be as intense and emotional and fun and just plain well-written as it was! Biggest positive surprise of the year so far, I think. :) I felt similarly surprised by  A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER by Holly Jackson. Another YA thriller (or mystery, I guess?) that was so much better than I had expected! 

7. New Favourite Author

I’m going to have to say THE MOTHER by Tess Stimson. I was expecting it to be a semi-fun thriller without much depth to it, just easy entertainment, I suppose. I was extremely surprised by the emotional depth I encountered. The death at the heart of this story is that of an infant, but I was expecting the book to sort of gloss over how tragic that actually is. Instead, it leaned into the grief so much, I found myself absolutely shook? The book almost moved me to tears several times. The mystery was so intense, I kept guessing and guessing. At one point quite early on, I had the solution, but the author masterfully misdirected me from that again, so that the twist at the end came as the biggest shock! Yeah, I loved this so much more than I had ever expected! Well done, Tess Stimson!

8. Your Newest Favourite Character

I haven’t absolutely fallen in love with any new characters this year, but three that stand out to me (in the order I encountered them this year) are:

1) Pippa Fitz-Amobi from A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER by Holly Jackson

2) Katrina Hawkins from THE STARLESS SEA by Erin Morgenstern

3) Nora O’Malley from THE GIRLS I’VE BEEN by Tess Sharpe

9. Your Newest Fictional Crush

Umm… absolutely nothing comes to mind lmfao. Fictional crushes have become so rare for me!

10. A Book that Has Made You Cry

THE MOTHER almost made me cry, I think. Not sure if there were actual tears. CONVERSATIONS WITH FRIENDS and NORMAL PEOPLE both (almost) moved me to tears several times. But I didn’t have any break-downs over books this year. At least not yet.

EDIT: Omg, omg, omg, I forgot A LITTLE LIFE! How the f did I forget about A LITTLE LIFE?! I broke down over this book several times. It was awful. Never before has a book made me suffer so much. I mean that. I didn’t just cry, the book also made me feel physically ill several times. Very well written, yes, but not one I can recommend in good conscience. This is not one of those instances of “You’ll cry, but you’ll love crying”, at least not for me. This is something I perhaps should have not put myself through. Because the experience overall was painful, first and foremost. Stay safe, kids. This one is… a lot.

11. A Book That Has Made You Happy

This is so sad to say, but none of the books I read this year gave me that warm, glowy feeling of pure comfort and happiness you get from books sometimes? Some passages of THE STARLESS SEA came the closest, I would say.

12. The Most Beautiful Book of the Year So Far

Again, I need to mention THE STARLESS SEA with the beautiful prose and imagery! <3 Also A LITTLE LIFE maybe? Beautifully written at times. Absolutely heart- and gut-wrenching at others.

13. Some Books You Need to Read Before 2021 Ends

Hahaha… so many. But I’ll pick out a few that I will likely finish until the year is over: MALIBU RISING, AN OCEAN OF MINUTES by Thea Lim (birthday present by a close friend! <3), THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS by Micah Nemerever (birthday present my dad gave me! <3) and THEY NEVER LEARN by Layne Fargo (bday present my godmother gave me! <3). You see, I am much more committed to reading books that were given to me rather than books I bought myself. So these have good chances of being finished in 2021. :)

14. Tag Two of Your Favourite Community Members

@books-and-cookies Have you answered these questions yet? And @augustinianseptember? Would REALLY love to read both of your answers! <3<3

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

soulmate au?????

Soulmate Au where things that people love/hate appear tattooed on their soulmate’s body. If they love it it’ll be on their front, and if they hate it it’ll appear on their back. The more important it is the closer it is to the heart. They can also move around/disappear over time.

Tim Drake is two years old when he receives his first soulmarks. There are two: the names Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain are found in elegant script over his heart.

He was alone when he’d found it, attempting to learn how to button up his shirt, and they’d sprung from his skin. He didn’t bother crying. He’d long since lost hope that someone would come for him if he did.

Instead, he’d waited for a maid to come into the room on her rounds and called her over.

The woman had smiled kindly as she explained soulmarks. How they were actually a good thing. How they meant that he was going to fall in love one day and one day he could get married! Like his mommy and daddy!

He’d seen how his mom and dad were sometimes. He wasn’t all that impressed.

Tim decided that the whole ‘soulmate’ thing could wait. He had a shirt to learn how to button.

~

On the other side of the world, however, Marinette Dupain Cheng is born without any tattoos on her body. Her parents don’t think much of it. She was just older than her soulmate, then. Or maybe she didn’t have one. That was fine.

But then, three years later, a computer appeared over her heart.

Marinette didn’t even notice until she was pulling off her shirt for a bath.

She hadn’t been shocked or scared like Tim had been, instead she’d beamed and waddled over to her mother with the widest grin on her face.

“Maman! Maman! Look! I have a soulmark!”

Sabine had smiled and turned to look but, much to Marinette’s confusion, it quickly morphed into an anxious expression.

Then her mother brought the smile back and she figured it must have been her imagination. The woman had reached out to ruffle her hair.

Marinette had finished getting ready and gotten in the bath, and her mother looked her over for a soulmark as she cleaned her. But there wasn’t one. There wasn’t one on her back and, outside of the one that had just formed, there wasn’t one on her front.

Then what was going on? Even abused kids tended to have their parent’s names somewhere on their bodies. But there was nothing.

The next guess was that her soulmate’s parents were dead. Usually, orphans had their housemates’ names on them, so the kid would have to be on the streets. Could a street kid really get enough access to a computer that it appears over their heart?

Sabine finished toweling off her daughter and pressed a kiss to her head after pulling her shirt on.

“Want to watch Pere bake some?”

The little girl’s eyes lit up and she nodded.

~

Whoever Tim’s soulmate was, they were really good at making friends. His chest was littered with names by the end of their first year of school.

And then there was one name on his back, right over his heart: Chloe Bourgeois. He frowned when he saw it.

For the first time since his first soulmark had appeared, he found himself curious about what was going on.

He pulled out his computer and looked up the name, not expecting to find much.

But, it turned out he did. After running an article through google translate (which didn’t work great) he managed to gather that she was the daughter of the mayor of Paris.

So... his soulmate was French.

(Unless they just had a vendetta against a random 3-year-old. Unlikely, though.)

He pulled up a new tab. It never hurt to learn a new language.

~

Their likes and dislikes slowly cropped up on their bodies as time went on.

Tim had smiled despite himself when he saw the pictures cropping up. A whisk was found on his shoulder, and then a video game console popped up on his stomach, and then a sewing needle and buttons could be seen under their parent’s names. On his back, he could find what appeared to be homework and broccoli. Whoever his soulmate was, their life seemed quaint and pleasant.

Marinette had been happy to see all the little things popping up over herself as well. A circus tent on the sole of her foot, a skateboard on her neck, a camera by the computer. On her back, she could see what looked like playing cards. She thought all their hobbies sounded cute (if a bit random). She was just concerned about the distinct lack of names on her body; she hoped that they were at least getting enough social interaction.

~

When she was twelve, it finally happened: a name appeared!

She stared at the script that had displaced the computer and her eyebrows knit together.

Batman.

Maybe a pet’s name? Human names tended to give a first and last name, so...

She typed it into her phone to try and translate it to French and her eyes widened when it actually gave information on someone in this place called Gotham.

A vigilante?

She laid back in her bed and frowned to herself.

In order for a person to show up as a name, there had to be a personal connection. If there wasn’t, like a celebrity crush, it would show up as a picture. But this was text, so…

Well, she hoped that her soulmate was safe.

Over time, more names appeared. They were all just as odd.

Nightwing?

Batgirl?

A simple google search showed they were vigilantes, too. She frowned slightly.

As long as they were okay, she supposed she should just be happy that they were talking to good people.

Besides, being friends with vigilantes seemed kind of cool. She could understand the appeal. She wished that Paris had something like that.

~

When he was fifteen a polka-dotted yoyo appeared over his heart, displacing their family’s names slightly. He stared at the yoyo for a minute in the mirror and then snickered to himself.

“Damn. They must really like yoyos.”

He laughed to himself and glanced at his back to see if anything changed, and was surprised to find that Chloe’s name had been moved away to make room for…

Was that a butterfly?

“And hate butterflies, apparently.”

~

She stared at the tiny bird over her heart.

Computers, skateboards, circuses, photography, and… birdwatching?

Whoever her soulmate was, their hobbies had range.

~

Tim had been changing out of his Robin costume when the names started disappearing.

Panic filled him. He’d heard before that, when your soulmate dies, your tattoos start to disappear.

But a few stayed, as did their hobbies.

He looked over the remaining names.

Their parents were still there, right next to the yoyo. Their family life was okay…

He stared at the other name and his eyebrows knit together.

Who names their kid Chat Noir?

He shook his head slightly. Maybe his soulmate had a black cat and wasn’t good at naming things.

Tim checked his back, mostly out of habit more than anything, and frowned to himself.

The butterfly had disappeared, and in its place were two names:

Lila Rossi and Hawkmoth.

~

She grinned as she twirled around in the dress she’d made. She was rather proud of it, it had a nice red and black color scheme.

She started taking it off, only to realize something.

Everything was gone.

She looked over her skin, running her fingers over where all the tiny tattoos had once been and felt tears form in her eyes.

Her soulmate was…

And then, slowly but surely, something appeared on her chest.

She wiped her eyes and looked at it, only to frown.

A gag gun that said ‘BANG’.

Nerves rattled around inside her. Something was definitely wrong, she could tell. But how could she fix it?

Maybe she could convince Master Fu to give her the horse miraculous? She could drop into Gotham as Ladybug for a little while and check up on them? Sure, she had no idea who her soulmate was, but she knew who they hung out with. She should at least make sure they’re okay.

A few hours later she was dumped unceremoniously onto a Gotham rooftop.

She looked up at the portal Master Fu had dropped her through and made a rude hand gesture, then pushed herself to her feet. She walked to the edge of the roof, dusting herself off as she went, and looked over the side.

Wow, this place definitely looked like the most dangerous city in the world. She could see a guy holding a gun while walking an old lady across the street it was so bad.

She pulled out her phone and looked up a picture of the vigilantes that she’d seen on her chest. Nightwing… Batgirl…  Batman…

Man, did they have to wear such dark colors? It was night! How dare they do the smart thing and make it hard to see them!

Fine. Time to wonder around and pray, she supposed.

She had been considering detransforming and seeing if she could buy a coffee when she heard a click behind her head.

Ah. Fuck.

~~~

Part 1/21, 34k words in all

Next

The version on AO3 was edited by me to make it better (in my opinion) but this is the original version if you'd prefer that

You didn’t really give me any specifics so I’m sorry if this didn’t turn out like you wanted. You were probably expecting fluff but uhhhhhh,,, don’t know why you were asking ME for that --

[chicgeekgirl89]

The House in the Pines Where the Road Ends

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Andrea Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, The Reyes Family

Rating: K

Summary: Four sisters. Nine nieces and nephews. Dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Carlos has a big, loud, over-the-top family, and T.K. is about to meet all of them at the annual Reyes Family Barbecue. It's a day that promises food, fun, and lots of nosy questions. All T.K. wants is to make a good impression and all Carlos wants is for his family not to scare off his boyfriend. When a stray baseball ruins the fun, both T.K. and Carlos will discover that neither of them ever needed to worry.

A/N: I am so happy to FINALLY introduce you to my version of the Reyes family. They have become a character all their own and I love them very dearly. Get ready to see and hear more about them in upcoming fics! I cannot say enough thank you's to @bluenet13​ who has read this fic approximately a billion times in all its different stages, has beta'ed the heck out of it, and still wants to be friends with me.

For the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Sports Injury

Read on Ao3

“Wait, but are you sure this shirt is okay?” T.K. asked, twisting around in front of the mirror to look at it from every possible angle.

“Do you really think my family is going to decide whether or not they like you based on your shirt?” Carlos asked with a laugh.

“It’s their first impression of me,” T.K. said, fussing with the hemline, trying to get it to lay exactly right. “I just want it to be good.”

Carlos came up behind him, wrapping his arms around T.K.’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “They are going to love you.” He pressed a kiss to T.K.’s cheek.

T.K. turned in his arms so they were face to face, anxiety trickling through his veins. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” Carlos told him. “I love you too.”

“Your family is important to you and I guess I can’t help feeling like…there’s a chance that if they don’t like me…”

“T.K…” Carlos sent him a look of fond exasperation.

“I know!” T.K. said quickly. “I know it’s ridiculous. But if they don’t like me, I don’t know where we go next.”

“I don’t think we need to borrow trouble like that,” Carlos said. “You already know my parents love you. And so do Elena and Elías.”

They’d had dinner at Carlos’ second eldest sister’s home a few weeks back. It had been fun to meet her and her husband along with their daughter, Carolina, and twins, Marco and Diego. Marco was rambunctious and spunky while Diego was more mild mannered and T.K. had enjoyed watching Carlos chase them around the backyard, playing baseball, tag, and wrestling.

But meeting one sister and her family was completely different from attending the annual Reyes Family Barbecue where there would be hundreds of aunts, uncles, and cousins to try and remember.

“Trust me,” Carlos said. “Elena will have spread the word and you’ll already have pre-approval before we even get there.”

“What if I call someone the wrong name?” T.K. asked. “I still think you should have written up a family tree like I asked you to.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “There’s no point. We’re adding to it like every day there are so many of us. You’ll never be able to remember. If you’re not sure just call them Gabriel or Valentina. There’s a forty percent chance you’ll be right.”

“This isn’t fair,” T.K. said, burying his face in Carlos’ shirt. “I have like, four family members. The playing field is so uneven I don’t even have a chance.”

Carlos kissed his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy the food. That’s all anyone expects of you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” T.K. grumbled.

“Listen, if anybody should be concerned in this situation, it’s me,” Carlos said.

“You?” T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“You just said, you come from a small family. My family is big and loud and all up in each other’s business. Francesca alone might be enough to make you run all the way back to New York.”

Carlos had talked before about his wild child fourth sister, Francesca. Apparently she was a force to be reckoned with and had caused quite a bit of trouble as a kid. According to Carlos every time he’d gotten in trouble, it had actually been Francesca’s fault. Well Francesca and Adriana, Carlos’ cousin who was more like a fifth sister. She and Francesca had been born within weeks of each other and been an inseparable duo ever since.

“New York is a pretty long way to run,” T.K. said. “And I’ve gotten kind of used to sleeping with you. I don’t really want to have to break in a new mattress. Oh, and for all I know you’ve gotten kind used to having my exercise bike in your dining room and I would have to buy a new one of those, plus moving costs are out of sight and I am on a civil servant’s salary here.”

Carlos kissed him again. “Come on. We’re already late and if we don’t get there soon then I will be in trouble.”

T.K. had already visited the Reyes family ranch a handful of times, but he had never seen it quite like this. Cars lined every inch of the drive up to the house, from pick-up trucks to mini-vans and everything in between. “Is this a family barbecue or a Lady Gaga concert?” T.K. asked as they got out of the car.

Carlos laughed and reached for his hand. “I told you.”

“Yeah I hoped maybe you were exaggerating a little bit,” T.K. said as they walked toward the driveway. As if he hadn’t been nervous already, now he felt overwhelmed. He was generally charming and good with people, but this was…a lot.

Carlos tensed. “Come this way,” he said, voice low as he tugged T.K. more to the side of the driveway, where a row of cars hid them from view of the house.

“What are we doing?” T.K. asked in confusion.

“We’re—”

“Carlitos don’t you even try! We see you over there!” a feminine voice called.

Carlos winced and looked at T.K. “I’m just going to say ahead of time that I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Two women came around the line of cars, each of them holding a drink. “You weren’t trying to hide from us were you?” the taller of the two asked.

“No I was just trying to get T.K. inside without the third degree first,” Carlos said, giving each of them a pointed look.

“Carlitos we’re not going to give him the third degree,” the second woman said, her many earrings flashing in the sunlight. “We’re just going to try and prepare him for what he’s about to face.”

“You don’t need to prepare him,” Carlos said with a sigh of long suffering. “There’s nothing to prepare for.”

“Oh my god Carlos, you cannot just drag him in here without some proper preparation,” the first woman said, turning to look at T.K. “So, you’re the firefighter stripper, huh?”

T.K.’s eyes went wide and he looked to Carlos who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. “For the last time, he’s a paramedic now and he has never been a stripper.” He opened his eyes and took a breath in a clear attempt to calm himself down. “T.K. I would like you to meet my sister Francesca.”

“His youngest older sister,” Francesca clarified looking T.K. up and down. “You’re hot enough to be a stripper.”

“And my cousin Adriana,” Carlos said loudly in an attempt to stop his sister’s comments. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” T.K. said with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the awkwardness. “Carlos has told me a lot about you.”

“Is it about how we were always getting him in trouble when he was a kid? Because that’s a lie,” Adriana said. 

“Total lie,” Francesca echoed. “So, how has it been, living in sin with my brother?”

“Oh my god Francesca can you just let us get through the door first?” Carlos cried.

She shook her head and grinned. “Nope. This is way more fun. Besides, Adriana got to know about him first, so I wanted to meet him before everyone else.”

“Did Carlos tell you not to tell Tía Maria you’re living together?” Adriana asked.

“Um, no, he didn’t mention that,” T.K. said, looking once again to his boyfriend.

“I didn’t really think it was necessary,” Carlos said.

“Tía Maria has strong religious opinions,” Francesca said.

“Oh is she not…” T.K. began to pull his hand from Carlos’ but his boyfriend held on firmly.

“Tía Maria is fine with the gay, she’s just not all right with fornication,” Adriana said with a grin, eyeing T.K. for his reaction.

“Oh my god, forget it, we’re going home,” Carlos said, trying to turn around, but Francesca grabbed his other arm.

“Nuh uh hermano,” she said sweetly. “Mom and Dad are expecting you. I already texted them and told them you’re here.”

“Wait hold on, I’m confused,” T.K. said, feeling slightly panicked as the conversation moved so quickly around him. “What do I need to know about Tía Maria?”

“Tía Maria is very against pre-marital sex,” Francesca said.

“In her mind we’re all pure, sweet, innocent little virgins, waiting to give up our virtue to our husbands on our wedding nights,” Adriana said, her face suggesting that she’d rather throw up than submit to that particular lifestyle. “Little does she know that ship has sailed.”

“Under the bleachers with Jake Thompson in the eleventh grade,” Francesca said.

“In Mike Kowalski’s backseat…”

“After prom with Sebastian Chavez…”

“Okay that’s enough of the sexcapades thank you,” Carlos said, looking disgusted.

“You didn’t think I needed to know this?” T.K. said looking at Carlos.

“I am not ashamed of us living together,” Carlos told him. “I don’t care if Tía Maria knows.”

“Ugh barf,” Francesca said. “God I wanted to be mad at you for caving and leaving us all alone at the singles table but you’re so grossly in love I don’t even want you there anymore.”

“Can we go in now?” Carlos asked. “Is this little interrogation over with?”

“Oh you can go in, but it’s far from over,” Adriana said, wrenching T.K.’s arm away from Carlos and tucking it into her own as she walked him toward the house. “So, T.K. What can we get you to drink? Beer? Margarita? Or are you a wine snob? You look like you could be a wine snob.”

“He’s from New York, they’re all wine snobs there,” Francesca said.

“T.K. doesn’t drink,” Carlos called from behind him. “You already know that.”

Adriana nodded. “Just checking. That’s cool. I did the sober thing for like six months once. My skin was so great.”

“Okay, I’m taking T.K. inside now,” Carlos said, rescuing his arm from Adriana’s grip. “You two can go back to wherever it is you came from. I’m going to guess…the gates of hell?”

“So rude Carlos,” Francesca said with a roll of her eyes.

“Come on Cesca, I need another margarita,” Adriana said, pulling her toward the back of the house.

“But I have more questions!”

“Questions later! Margarita now!”

They disappeared around the side of the house, leaving Carlos looking embarrassed and T.K. feeling like he’d just been through a whirlwind. “You can literally ignore everything about them,” Carlos said as he opened the door. “Just pretend they don’t exist. That’s what the rest of us do when they get like this.”

T.K. had a feeling neither Francesca nor Adriana liked to be ignored, but Andrea greeted them immediately as they walked inside, leaving him no opportunity for further questions or conversation. “T.K.! Carlitos! Welcome!”

There were a few other people milling around inside, but it seemed like most of the family was in the backyard. T.K. could hear music playing and the smell of barbecue wafted through the glass slider doors that led to the oversized back patio.

“Sorry we’re late Mama,” Carlos said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s my fault,” T.K. said. “I had a shift and it ran over.”

“No apologies necessary,” Andrea said, waving a hand. “I understand the important work you boys do. I’m just sorry your dad couldn’t make it T.K.”

“He said to tell you hello and that he will be here for sure next time,” T.K. told her with a smile.

It had been a huge relief to find out that the party was scheduled while his dad was on shift. The last thing he needed was one more thing to give him anxiety about meeting Carlos’ family.

Andrea caught his face in both hands. “We are so glad you’re here T.K.” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get you something to drink. I’ve got lots of that fancy water you like.”

The back slider opened as Andrea pulled a water from the refrigerator for T.K. “Boys! Bienvenidos!” Gabriel boomed as he stepped inside, bringing the scent of barbecue with him.

“Gabriel close that door before the air conditioning gets out,” Andrea scolded.

“Of course mi amor,” he said. “I was just looking for another set of tongs. Daniel is going to help with the second grill.”

“They’re in the pantry,” Andrea said. “Where they always are.”

Gabriel paused to kiss her on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve?” Carlos suggested with a cheeky smile as he grabbed a grape off the counter and popped it in his mouth.

Gabriel snorted. “Probably.”

“All right now you two, head on outside and join the party,” Andrea said. “You don’t want to be stuck in here with me.”

“Are you sure?’ Carlos asked. “We can stay and help.”

“No, no,” Andrea said quickly. “Gloria will be back in a minute. Go! Enjoy! Introduce T.K. to the family.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell Tía Maria that you live together. You know how she gets and I do not need another lecture on how I raised my children with loose morals.”

“Yes, for everyone’s sanity, please keep that to yourselves,” Gabriel said, reappearing with the tongs in hand. “No need for my sister to know that you are breaking the commandments.”

T.K. turned and looked at his boyfriend. “Everyone seems very concerned about this.”

Carlos shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everyone is overreacting. Tía Maria isn’t that scary.” He kissed T.K. on the side of his head and grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Besides, there are so many people here, we might not even see Tía Maria.”

They stepped out the door into the backyard. To the left was a play set that dozens of children were taking advantage of. To the right were several grills, all smoking away, the tables next to them already piled high with food and drink. And underneath sprawling oak trees dozens of picnic tables and lawn chairs had been set up, all of them full of people talking, laughing, and eating together. 

“I knew you should have made that family tree for me,” T.K. said, starting to feel really nervous now as he saw exactly how many people had scattered across the backyard.

They made it about four feet before they were accosted by well meaning relatives. Cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone seemed to want to meet Carlos’ new boyfriend. T.K. smiled and nodded and tried in vain to remember everyone’s names. Carlos hadn’t been exaggerating, there were a lot of Gabriels and Valentinas.

“Ay, okay, leave the boys alone,” a woman finally said, interrupting the melée. She sported a longer version of Carlos’ curls and T.K. remembered her face from some of the family photos. “Shame on all of you, they haven’t even eaten anything.”

She turned a warm smile on them as the crowd dispersed and went back to their merriment. “Hola T.K. I’m Teresa.”

Carlos’ oldest sister. She and her husband Javier lived in San Diego with their four kids, Valentina, Eva, Gabriel, and Bianca. Their visit to town was the reason the barbecue had been scheduled for this particular weekend. 

“Nice to meet you,” T.K. said, immediately feeling the same warmth and comfort radiate from her that he did from Carlos. 

She turned and pulled her brother in for a hug, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. “Come on. You can sit with us. I’ll fend off the nosy relatives,” she told them.

“Thank you,” Carlos said in relief. “I didn’t think it would be quite this bad.”

“You never do,” she said with a smile as she led them to the picnic table where her husband Javier was sitting with another couple that T.K. thought he recognized. 

“T.K. this is my husband Javier. And have you met Lucía and Justin yet?” Teresa asked.

Ah, Lucía. Carlos’ third oldest sister. She and Justin lived with their kids in McKinney and had driven up for the weekend. They had been set to attend the dinner with Elena and Elías but one of the boys had ended up in a soccer championship so they’d had to cancel. 

“So T.K. I hear you’re from New York? Nice to have another East Coaster join the party,” Justin said.

“Oh yeah, Carlos said you’re from Philly right?” T.K. asked.

“Born and bred,” Justin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t cheer for the Giants do you?”

T.K. smiled. “I’m more of a Mets fan actually. Football’s not really my thing.”

“Well that means I don’t have to hate you, but don’t say that too loud in Texas. Football is life here,” Justin told him.

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. replied.

“Tío Carlos!” a gaggle of kids ran up to the table all of them clamoring for Carlos. 

“Tío Carlos I got on my soccer team at school!”

“Can you come play baseball!”

“Did you know my tooth is falling out?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Everyone talked at once and Carlos seemed to take it in stride, giving hugs and ruffling hair, looking at loose teeth, and promising to come and play in a minute.

“Hey, all of you, adiós,” Elena said. “Leave Tío Carlos alone. He’ll play with you later.”

It took a few more admonishments from their parents, but eventually the children dispersed to different corners of the ranch. “We’re doing you a favor T.K.,” Lucía told him, rocking baby Nicolás back and forth. “Once Carlos goes with the children he doesn’t come back.”

“He’s their favorite uncle,” Justin explained.

“And for good reason,” Javier added. “His knees are young and spry.”

“You guys are exaggerating. The kids love everybody,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

Teresa shook her head. “It’s okay to admit that you’re their favorite Carlos. You’ve earned the honor.” She looked at T.K. “Carlos is too modest.”

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said fondly and he could see Carlos blush a little bit.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Carlos said. “We’ve been here half an hour and no one has offered me any food. What has happened to this family?”

The situation was fixed immediately and T.K. found himself with more food than one person could possibly hope to consume, sitting and listening to the Reyes siblings recount stories from their childhood.

T.K. felt the bench next to him shift and turned to find Francesca and Adriana joining them.

“Did Carlos tell you about the time he ran away from home?” Teresa asked.

Carlos groaned. “No, do we have to tell this story every time?”

“Yes, because it’s hilarious,” Elena said. “He was what, about six at the time?”

“I was sixteen so yes,” Teresa said. “Carlitos was mad because all of us sisters got to go to a movie and he didn’t. So he wrote a note saying he was running away and never coming back.”

“And then he disappeared for seven hours,” Lucía chimed in. “Mom was beside herself. They checked the entire house, called all his friends, she was sure he’d been eaten by a coyote.”

“Well I was the one who found him,” Teresa said with a smile. “Up in that tree,” she pointed several feet to the left, “crying because he’d climbed up too high and couldn’t get down.”

“We had to call the fire department to come and get him,” Francesca said with a smirk.

“And when they got him down, did he get in trouble?” Elena asked. “Nope. Because Mama was all—“

“My baby!” all four women chorused together. 

“Carlitos never gets in trouble,” Adriana said. “Ever. All he has to do is bat his eyelashes at Tía Andrea and she starts talking about how innocent and sweet he is and how he could never start a fight or break a window…”

Carlos had put a hand to his forehead and looked like he was in physical pain. “Are you done now?” he asked.

“No way,” Lucía piped up. “We still have to tell T.K. about the time you drove the tractor into the pond.”

“The pedal was stuck!” Carlos cried.

“That’s what he says every time,” Francesca told T.K. “It’s a lie.”

Carlos burst forth in a tirade of Spanish, likely exonerating himself from the tractor-pond fiasco and all of the women immediately began to contradict him. T.K. wasn’t sure whether to smile or intervene as they all talked over each other. His high school level Spanish could only pick up the occasional word. 

“This happens every time,” Elías said. “They’ll calm down in a minute.”

“A minute?” Javier said. “Forget a minute. We can all leave, they’ll be at it for at least half an hour now.”

Things really came to a head when Francesca stood, slammed her hands against the table, and shouted, “I did not put that goat in Lucí’s bed, that was Elena!”

“I watched you do it!” Carlos yelled back.

“Well then your brain is broken because that is not what happened!” Francesca said, pointing a finger at him.

The argument was broken up by the arrival of Andrea, followed closely by another woman T.K. didn’t recognize. “Girls! Ya basta! Qué esta pasando? Arguing in front of our guests, what is wrong with you?” she said, setting a large plate of taquitos in front of them.

“Disculpa Mama,” they all muttered, but T.K. caught Francesca giving Carlos the finger under the table and then she jumped a second later when he pinched her leg.

“Honestly,” she scoffed at them. “I am ashamed of all of you. T.K. I apologize on behalf of my daughters. I did not raise them to be like this.”

“See?” Lucía said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re all in trouble, but Carlitos is completely innocent.”

“Of course he’s innocent, he would never argue in front of guests,” Andrea said. “Did you all say hello to Tía Maria?”

“Hola Tía,” they all chorused.

“And Maria, this is T.K., Carlos’ boyfriend,” Andrea said with a smile.

T.K. felt himself stiffen under the intense gaze of Carlos’ infamous aunt. But he smiled and waved a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said. She turned and looked at Teresa and Javier. “Cuándo será la primera comunión de Marco y Diego?"

T.K. caught a glimpse of Francesca who smiled at him and raised her eyebrows in an “I told you so” kind of way. 

“Later this summer,” Elena said smoothly. “We will send you an invitation of course.”

“They are a bit behind, no? Why the delay in this important milestone?”

“Tía, with Covid and everything it all just got pushed back. Don’t worry,” Elena told her.

“You’d better get a move on,” Adriana said. “We wouldn’t want them to miss out on all the blessings of the Lord.”

Tía Maria’s eyes narrowed as she picked up on Adriana’s sarcasm. “Is there something wrong with wanting my nephews to grow up properly in the church?”

“Of course not,” Andrea said quickly. “And they are Maria. Very good, pious little boys.”

T.K. saw the mischievous glint in Francesca’s eye as she opened her mouth. “So T.K., you live with your dad?” 

Everyone at the table froze and turned to look daggers in her direction. “Ah Maria! The watermelon! We forgot it inside, come on,” Andrea said quickly, glaring at her daughter over her shoulder as she ushered Maria away.

“Cesca!” Teresa chastised as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I was just trying to take the pressure off of Elena,” Francesca said innocently, taking a sip of her mojito.

“You were trying to stir up trouble,” Lucía said as the baby began to fuss. 

“Well someone has to keep things fun around here!”

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Marco and Diego ran toward them, kicking up dirt as they skidded to a stop by the table and interrupted the conversation. 

“Mom can I have another cookie?” Marco asked.

“I want a drink but Carolina said I can’t have a soda, but can I?” Diego asked.

“And Tía Teresa, Gabriel wants to know, can he get his Switch out of the car now, because he said you said he could get it later and now it’s later,” Marco spoke up on behalf of his cousin.

“Okay, hold on, everybody take a breath,” Teresa said.

The group momentarily broke up as everyone went to tend to their children’s needs and make sure they had eaten something besides cookies and chips. 

“So, are you ready to run back to New York yet?” Carlos asked when they were the only two left at the table.

“I think I’m holding my own all right,” T.K. said. “You were right about Francesca though. She’s…something.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not that actually was her being on her better behavior. I swear you’d never know she was working on a masters in biochemistry.”

“She’s fun,” T.K. said. “And she and Adriana clearly have the most dirt on Carlitos.”

“Maybe we should leave now,” Carlos said with a groan. “They’ll keep at it as long as you’ll listen.”

“I like it,” T.K. said, taking a sip of his mineral water. “It’s fun seeing you like this. Baby brother Carlos is a whole new side of you.”

Carlos blushed a little bit. “The way they’d talk you’d think we were all still kids.”

“It’s sweet. They adore you.”

“I—”

Carlos was interrupted by Valentina, Teresa and Javier’s youngest, who came running over, crying so hard she was hiccuping instead of breathing. “Tío Carlos!”

“Valentina, qué pasó?” Carlos asked worriedly, gathering her into his arms and sitting her on his lap.

“Marco me dijo que no podía jugar pelota con él,” she sobbed, her little heart so clearly broken over her cousin’s refusal to let her play ball with him.

"Lo siento, Valen. That's not very nice." Carlos hugged her close and kissed her hair. "Pero no le hagas caso. What if we get you a cookie, will that help?”

She shook her head, lip stuck out in an adorable pout, fresh tears threatening to spill over.

“Two cookies?”

She held up three little fingers and Carlos opened his eyes wide in mock surprise. “Tres?! Ay Dios mío.” He shook his head. “Come with me, pero no le digas a mamá.”

He slid Valentina off his lap and offered her his hand, which she grabbed onto eagerly. He looked at T.K. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” T.K. said, watching them walk over to one of the tables. 

Carlos pointed to several different options, Valentina shaking her head at each one until he found the kind of cookie she liked best.

T.K. felt a presence next to him and turned to find Francesca had returned. She had a strange look on her face. “You know he’s never brought anyone home before. Not like this.”

T.K.’s breath caught in his chest. “I didn’t know that.”

“He’s happy,” Francesca said. “Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She turned and looked at him. “You make him happy.”

“I do my best,” T.K. said. “He makes me happy too.”

“Yeah.” She looked at her brother again, adding some fruit to Valentina’s plate. “He wants kids. You know that right?”

“I do,” T.K. said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re good with that?”

T.K. looked at his boyfriend who was tenderly wiping the last of the tears from Valentina’s cheeks. They had talked about it of course. A few times. In passing. He knew where Carlos stood. And he knew that he wasn’t sure what kind of dad he would be, but also that he would do anything to make Carlos happy; including facing his own fears about being a father. “He’ll be a great dad,” was his answer.

She squinted at him, then squared her shoulders. “I’m only going to say this once and if you ever tell anyone I will deny it and shove your balls so far up your ass you won’t know how to get them out again. Carlos is special. And I know you’re all city boy, New York, squeaky clean, firefighter paramedic, or whatever.”

“But if I hurt him you’ll kill me?” T.K. asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” she looked at him like he was crazy. “Teresa will. She’s like his second mom. She’ll take you down so fast you’ll never even see it coming.”

T.K. laughed. “I have no intention of ever breaking his heart. I promise.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good.” She cocked her head the way Carlos did when he was about to say something he knew was funny. “You’re pretty great for a stripper.”

“Okay, one more time. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work, but I have never been, and have no intention of being, a stripper,” T.K. said firmly.

“That’s what they all say!” she tossed over her shoulder as she got to her feet and flounced away to find Adriana. 

“What was my sister telling you?” Carlos asked as he returned, Valentina now seated happily with some other cousins at a kid sized picnic table. “Oh god, was she talking about the time I got arrested for skinny dipping in the lake because there is so much more to that story than the way she tells it.”

“No,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows, “but now I want to hear the rest of that. No she was just…being a good big sister. You’re lucky to have so many people watching out for you.”

Carlos softened, his hand seeking T.K.’s. “And now I have you too.”

T.K. squeezed gently. “Yes, you do.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

All in all the day was going well. T.K. had handled every nosy question, every argument, every weird thing his sisters or relatives did with his usual charm and self-confidence. He fit in. 

All Carlos had really wanted was for T.K. to like his family, but seeing them like him right back…it was doing strange things to his heart. He hadn’t known until this moment how much it meant to gain his family’s approval of his relationship. He’d convinced himself that he was fine either way, and he probably would have been. But seeing them all joke and talk and laugh together was beyond his wildest dreams. And it was making him think some pretty crazy things about the future.

They’d chatted some more with his siblings and a few other family members who’d stopped by the table. But now Lucía had gone to put the baby down for a nap, and Teresa and Elena had been pressed into kitchen duty with his mother, while the men of the group had been enticed inside by a game on TV. Which left only Adriana and Francesca at the table. 

“So, T.K., now that the boring adults are gone, tell us everything,” Francesca said, a sneaky smile on her face.

“Ooh yes,” Adriana said, getting comfortable on the picnic bench. “Tell us all your dirty secrets T.K. You lived in New York so do you actually work for the mob? And how hard was it for you to learn to put gas in a car at such an advanced age?”

“Unfortunately no mob connections, although that probably pays better than firefighting or being a paramedic,” T.K. said with a laugh. “And the learning curve on driving was actually pretty quick. We have to fuel the engines, even in New York.”

“Well that’s boring,” Francesca said as she picked up a tamale. “Come on, you have to be more exciting than that. Any secret lovers you’re keeping back there on the side?”

“Cesca!” Carlos said sharply.

“I’m watching out for you!” Francesca cried. “I mean if you two have an open relationship or something that’s your business, but if he—”

“No,” T.K. said quickly. He looked at Carlos. “There’s no one in New York. Or anywhere else.”

Adriana and Francesca both wrinkled their noses, but Carlos hardly noticed, too busy looking at T.K. who was gazing at him with so much tenderness and love. He was taking it all in stride, the insanity, the prying. Questions that might have set him off a year or two ago he now brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Ugh, come on!” Adriana said. “There has to be something. You basically grew up on the set of Gossip Girl. You have to know at least one Kardashian or something.”

“Yes, how many private helicopter rides have there been?” Francesca asked eagerly. “Or penthouse ragers? You have to have been to a penthouse rager of someone famous!”

T.K. shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Adriana pouted. “So boring. Not one secret?”

“Oh, I have secrets,” T.K. said with a grin. He laced his hand through Carlos’. “But only Carlos gets to know them.”

“You play dirty, Strand,” Francesca told him with an approving smile. 

Carlos had had enough. “Come on,” he said, pulling T.K. to his feet and away from the women without a backward glance or apology. 

“Where are we going?” T.K. asked and Carlos wished the answer was a dark corner somewhere that he could kiss his boyfriend’s face off and show him how much he appreciated his efforts today. But that would not be happening anywhere on the premises. Francesca and Adriana could sniff out a couple having a quickie from a mile away. They’d caught Teresa and Javier in a Sunday School classroom during Elena and Elías’ wedding and had never let them forget it. Although Bianca had been born nine months later so apparently getting caught hadn’t been too much of a turn off. He definitely wasn’t risking it though. 

He pulled T.K. over to the patio where the music had cranked up to an all time high now that his cousin Rafael had arrived and was playing DJ.

“Okay,” T.K. said, looking nervous all over again. “You know I can’t really dance right? That first night at the bar, that was all just to get in your pants, you know that right?”

“What?” Carlos feigned surprise and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. And considering that you managed to get into my pants about half an hour later, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

“Not the point Carlos.”

“I’ve seen you dance. You’re fine,” Carlos told him.

“Yes in the club!” T.K. told him, eyes wide as he took in the way some of Carlos’ relatives were dancing around them. “This is like something out of Grease! Did you all rehearse this before you got here?”

“Look, Justin’s dancing.” Carlos nodded to where Lucí had managed to get a moment free from her children and pulled her husband onto the impromptu dance floor. 

“Justin’s been in your family for five years. He’s had practice.”

“You’re just going to follow my lead,” Carlos told him confidently as he pulled T.K. close. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax. Your Tía Maria looks like she’s about to come over here and remind us to leave room for the Holy Spirit,” T.K. hissed.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t care what Tía Maria thinks. I haven’t for a long time. I just want to dance with you.” He cocked his head and turned on his most charming smile, eyes pleading a little bit.

T.K. rolled his eyes and groaned. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

“Exactly,” Carlos allowed himself a full on smirk.

He put one hand on T.K.’s shoulder, the other on his hip and gave a comforting little squeeze. “And now you just follow my lead.”

He took a half a step forward, slowly, not following the music at all, encouraging T.K. to step back with his opposite foot. They managed fine for about three beats until T.K. stepped wrong and they stumbled over one another’s feet. “Sorry,” he said, face going slightly pink. “I told you.”

“You’re tense,” Carlos said. “You can’t dance when you’re tense. Relax. It’s all in the hips.”

“I’m from New York. I barely have hips at all, let alone beautiful, sexy, latin caderas like yours.”

Carlos laughed and bumped up against T.K. with said caderas. “You like my caderas?”

“You know I love your hips and normally I wouldn’t complain about anything you do with them, but everyone is staring at us.”

“They are not.” Carlos took a quick glance around the area and found that indeed, many of his relatives were staring, and he could read wedding bells going off in their eyes. “Okay they are but that’s because they’re nosy, not because of your dancing. Don’t worry about them. Focus on me.”

“Just don’t blame me if I break your toes,” T.K. said nervously.

“I think I’ll survive,” Carlos told him. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I like it.”

“Like what?”

“Completely off your game,” Carlos told him. “You never approach anything with less than one hundred percent confidence and charm.”

“Well I only do things I’m one hundred percent confident in,” T.K. said. “That way I never have to look like I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Ahhh, now it all makes sense,” Carlos said with a laugh.

The music changed and Carlos shifted so that they were closer together, one hand entwined with T.K.’s, the other on his lower back. “So. Tell me the truth. How glad are you that your dad didn’t come today?”

T.K. laughed. “Oh god so glad. You know how he is. He and your sisters would have spent the entire day trying to one up each other on embarrassing stories about us. And he might have won.”

“Oh I doubt that. We’ve got about two more hours until my sisters bring up the bathtub incident.”

T.K.’s eyes widened. “The bathtub incident?”

“Let’s just say it was very expensive and mostly Francesca’s fault.”

“You know, your sisters seem to take a lot of the blame in these stories even though you have a starring role in all of them. I’m starting to wonder who’s really telling the truth here.”

“Shh,” Carlos said, pulling him a little closer. “I’m a cop. I’m very trustworthy.”

“Uh huh.” T.K. looked amused.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

Carlos leaned forward so his lips were touching T.K.’s ear. “You’re dancing.”

And indeed he was, their bodies swaying back and forth, T.K. following all of Carlos’ movements without any trouble. T.K. opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted by the reappearance of Adriana. “I take it back,” she said, causing them both to pause their movement.

“Take what back?” Carlos asked in confusion.

“There’s no way he’s a stripper. Not with dance moves like that. Yikes.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted,” T.K. said.

“Good,” she said, giving him a mischievous wink. “I like to keep people guessing. Now step aside gringo and let us show you how it’s done.”

She grabbed Carlos’ hand and before he could protest she’d pulled him out to the center of the dance floor, yelling at Rafael to put on something they could really move to. Rafael smoothly transitioned into a song Carlos recognized and Adriana grinned as she began to salsa, clearly expecting him to partner her. He rolled his eyes, but obliged, catching her around the waist and moving back and forth in time with her.

“We approve,” she said as he spun her back and forth.

“Of my dancing?” Carlos asked.

“No, of T.K.,” she said with a smile. “We really like him. Me and all your sisters.”

It should not have warmed his soul so much to hear the words, but it did anyway. “Good,” Carlos said. “Is that why you pulled me out here? To tell me you like him?”

“No, I pulled you out here so he could check out your ass while you dance,” she said, looking over his shoulder, her grin widening. “Which he totally is by the way.”

“Adriana, shut up,” Carlos said, but he smiled anyway and dipped her, really letting loose as the music hit the chorus. Because apparently he was not above showing off for his boyfriend.

By the time the song ended he was sweating and breathless and so was Adriana. “You’ve still got it cousin,” she said. “Now go on. Go over there and take a victory lap with your boyfriend and his puppy dog eyes.”

Carlos looked over to find T.K. looking suitably impressed at the edge of the patio. Carlos shook his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as he walked over. “Well someone’s been holding out on me,” T.K. said when Carlos got close.

“It’s just dancing,” Carlos said.

“Just dancing? Carlos that looked like…I don’t even know, but it was freaking amazing!” T.K. said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could dance like that. Why are you over here dancing with me?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and pulled T.K. close to him. “Trust me, Adriana might be a state champion in Salsa, but I prefer dancing with you any day.”

“She’s a state champion?” T.K. asked in surprise.

“Yep,” Carlos said, pulling him back onto the dance floor. “Three years in a row.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, Adriana is good at pretty much anything she decides to be good at. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“That doesn’t explain where your dance moves came from,” T.K. said, looking expectant.

“I um,” Carlos thought for a half second about lying before he decided to give in and tell the truth. “I may have partnered her for a few years.”

“How long is a few?”

Carlos sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. “Like fourth through seventh grade.”

T.K.’s jaw dropped. He pointed a finger at Carlos’ chest. “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that!”

“Well it’s not like it’s relevant to everyday conversation! When would it have ever come up?”

“I don’t know!” T.K. shook his head. “What made you stop?”

Carlos shrugged. “I’m good, but I’m not championship level good. And I was getting into baseball. And Adriana is…really difficult to work with.”

“Carlos! T.K.!” They both turned to find a very welcome presence interrupting their conversation.

“Tía Luci,” Carlos said, pulling back from T.K. so he could give her a hug. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“Well you know I had a date querido. T.K. mi amor! It’s so good to see you!” The many bracelets she was wearing jangled loudly as she hugged T.K. with equal fervor. 

T.K. had been to several Sunday dinners at this point and Tía Luci had accepted him exactly the way Carlos hoped she would, with nothing less than complete and total love. She’d always encouraged Carlos to be exactly who he was and love whoever he desired. It helped of course that she’d had four husbands of her own and was currently single and dating with astonishing frequency.

“It’s good to see you too Tía Luci,” T.K. said with a smile.

“I thought mom said you had a pottery class,” Carlos said.

“I had a date at pottery class,” she said and then leaned closer. “And the clay wasn’t the only thing that got handled, if you catch my meaning.”

Carlos’ cheeks burned as T.K. laughed. His aunt was a free spirit and that meant she was pretty free with most things. Including her sex life. And while Carlos didn’t judge, he definitely didn’t always need all the…details she provided.

“Oh don’t look so scandalized,” she admonished, squeezing his arm. “It’s not like you’re a saint either, sobrino. With a boyfriend like this you must get up to all kinds of nonsense. And if you’re not you should start. You’re only young once!” Someone caught her attention and she waved. “I must go see Alejandro, but you two have fun dancing.”

“How about we run away to New York together?” Carlos asked as she floated away.

“You love her,” T.K. said knowingly.

“I do. But I don’t need to know every detail of her dating life. And no matter how many times I tell her that she doesn’t quite seem to get the message.”

“Seems like Francesca and Adriana come by it honestly,” T.K. said. “Oversharing runs in the gene pool.”

“Yes along with nosiness, a strong desire to meddle, and a life long obsession with the Astros,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

“And yet somehow you have none of those qualities,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he was being sarcastic.

“Me?” Carlos said. “What are you talking about? I don’t do any of those things.”

“Maybe not so overtly. But when you found out Mateo’s house had blown up, you organized all those donations to help out him and his roommates.”

“Because it was the right thing to do!”

“Of course it was. But it was also meddling. Kind meddling. But meddling. And we’ve talked about the cow eyes.”

“What do the cow eyes have to do with anything?” Carlos asked, slightly annoyed.

“When you want to know something that I don’t want to share, you waste no time turning them on. And you know that neither I, nor anyone else can resist. Nosiness.”

“That’s not nosy! It’s…digging for information.”

“Information your chosen suspect may or may not want to share. The suspect being me. Admit it Carlos. You’re more like your family than you’d like to believe.”

“I—“ Carlos struggled to come up with a reply. “I don’t like that you’re siding with my sisters. That was not the point of bringing you here. You’re supposed to back me up.”

“Oh I will never speak to your sisters about this,” T.K. told him. “I’ve got your back. I just want you to know that I know.”

Carlos opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a small body hurtling into his legs so hard he almost fell over. “Tío Carlos!” Marco practically yelled. “You said you would come in an hour. It’s been more than an hour. Will you pleeeeeeeeeeeease come throw the ball with me? You promised!”

Carlos looked a T.K. who smiled and nodded toward Marco. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone with my sisters after what you just said. I’m scared about what other things they might put into your head.”

T.K. laughed and gave him a little push. “Go. I’ll try not to be swayed further to their side.”

“You heard him! Go! Go!” Marco pushed Carlos from behind over toward the grassy area past the picnic tables.

“Marco, Marco, relax,” Carlos said, breaking away from his nephew’s aggressive pushing. 

“I waited all day,” Marco told him with a glare.

“And you’re going to wait longer if you’re not polite,” Carlos told him.

Marco looked only slightly chastened. “Sorry.”

“Mhmm.” Carlos tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have a ball and a glove?”

“Yes!” Marco ran ahead and grabbed them off a picnic table. “Here. This one’s yours. Abuelo got it out of the garage for me.”

Sure enough it was Carlos’ high school mitt. It was beyond worn out, but it would do for a quick round of catch before he rescued his boyfriend from the clutches of whichever sister had decided to grill him next. 

“Okay you go over there and I’ll go over here,” Marco said excitedly, running several yards away, ball clutched in his hand.

His first throw took Carlos by surprise. “Whoa! You’re getting really good at that,” Carlos said as he tossed it back.

“Dad says I might make the travel team this year,” Marco said excitedly as he delivered another throw that made Carlos’ palm sting.

“Yeah I think you’ve got a good shot at it,” Carlos told him. “How’s your fast ball?”

“So good! But I have to work on my curve ball. It doesn’t always go the right way.”

“Ah, I’ve got a trick for that. Let me show you.”

It didn’t take long for all of Carlos’ nieces and nephews to realize he had left the adult table and was available for fun. After he finished with Marco, a game of tag was requested by his other nephews. Then Bianca and Elena wanted to show him the crafts they’d been working on and make him a friendship bracelet which he immediately put around his wrist. 

Nearly an hour had gone by and Carlos began to look around for his boyfriend, feeling guilty for having left him alone for so long. But just as he began making his way back to the picnic tables, Carolina found him and wanted to tell him all about a school project she’d finished recently.

One minute he was chatting with her about orca whales and the next something was colliding with his skull, hard and fast. He felt his head snap to the side, fingers automatically going to touch the spot directly behind his ear.

Carolina had frozen her eyes wide. “Tío Carlos? Estás bien?” she asked tentatively.

The world seemed to tilt and he sank down slowly onto a picnic bench, fingers fumbling against the weathered wood as he tried to aim successfully and not miss and fall to the ground instead. “Sorry!” Marco called, running over. 

Oh. The baseball. That’s what had hit him. That explained the extreme throbbing that had started and why he could already feel a knot growing at the site of impact.

“You hit Tío Carlos right in the head!” Carolina scolded.

“I didn’t mean to!” Marco protested back. “I just threw it, that’s all! I was working on my curveball! It wasn’t my fault!”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Carlos said calmly, even though his vision was starting to blur at the corners. “It was an accident.”

“See? It’s fine!” Marco told her. 

“I’m telling Mom!”

“No you’re not!”

The two continued to squabble and Carlos closed his eyes as their raised voices cut through his skull like a knife. “Carolina,” he interrupted finally. “Can you go find T.K. for me? Tell him I need to ask him something.”

“Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes at Marco. “I’m still telling mom,” she hissed, causing him to take off after her as she ran away.

Carlos swallowed against the sudden queasiness in his stomach. He was regretting the number of tamales he’d eaten now.

The sunlight was really starting to hammer into his skull so he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through his nose, trying to keep his stomach from becoming violent. A hand on his knee startled him. “Carlos?” T.K.’s voice was quiet and concerned. 

Carlos opened his eyes and found his boyfriend or rather, several blurry versions of his boyfriend, looking up at him. “Hey,” he said quietly. Even talking seemed to hurt his rattled brain.

“Are you okay? Carolina said something about a baseball.”

“It was an accident,” Carlos said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Okay,” T.K. said slowly, clearly trying to gauge the situation and read between the lines of what his boyfriend wasn’t telling him. “Where did it hit you?”

Carlos took another slow breath in through his nose as his stomach clenched. “Behind my ear.”

“Which side, this side?” T.K. asked, lifting a hand and gently probing at Carlos’s skull.

His fingers found the knot almost immediately and even though his touch was gentle it sent a stab of pain shooting through Carlos and his stomach lurched. He jerked away, unsuccessful in suppressing a tight lipped moan.

“Okay, hey I need you to talk to me, all right?” T.K. said, his voice going serious as his fingers instinctively sought the pulse point on Carlos’ wrist. “How bad is your pain?”

Carlos had had concussions before; you couldn’t play varsity baseball without the occasional injury. This was ten times worse than he remembered. “Like a seven?” His voice was shaky and opening his mouth at all felt like a huge risk given the discontent happening in his stomach. “And there are about four of you right now.”

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

Carlos squinted at him. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Answer please,” T.K. said, eyes serious.

“Carlos Nicolás Reyes Moreno.”

“And where are we?” 

“My parents’ ranch.”

“Good. And what’s your badge number?”

Carlos opened his mouth and found his mind strangely blank. “I—”

“You can’t remember?” T.K. asked.

“I—no.” He felt panic start to well up in his throat. “T.K…”

“It’s okay,” T.K. said calmly, gently cupping the non-injured side of his face. “You’re going to be all right. But we need to go to the hospital, okay?”

“Oh god,” Carlos groaned partly from pain and queasiness and partly from panic. “Any chance we can sneak out of here without telling my family?”

“Oh, babe, I think that ship has sailed,” T.K. said sympathetically.

“Carlitos? What happened?” Andrea approached at a rapid pace, the Reyes sisters flanking her along with Adriana, Tía Maria, and Tía Luci. He was sure his father wasn’t far behind.

Even as pain clawed at the inside of his skull Carlos tried to assuage their fears. “I’m fine, just a little accident,” he managed.

“Carolina said Marco hit you in the head,” Elena said worriedly. 

“Head injuries are very serious,” Tía Luci told them. “I once dated a tennis player who got a concussion.”

“He got hit with a tennis ball?” Elena asked.

“No, we got a little overly enthusiastic in the bedroom. No half assed sex from that one!”

Carlos heard Tía Maria start muttering a prayer.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Is he all right?” Predictably Gabriel had caught up with the group, a large grill spatula still in his hand.

“Let’s just give him a little room to breathe,” T.K. said calmly, holding up a hand to keep them from coming in closer to smother him with concern. “Francesca if you could go get me some ice and a towel please.”

She disappeared in an instant toward the back of the house.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Teresa asked.

“I am fine,” Carlos insisted again, squeezing his eyes closed as another wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him. He would be. As soon as he was away from his coddling family and in his bed at home.

“Carlitos you be quiet and listen to your boyfriend. He is a professional,” Andrea scolded, worry coloring the sharpness of her tone.

“Yes, T.K., what does he need?” Gabriel asked.

“We’re going to get some ice on here and go from there,” T.K. said. “I don’t think an ambulance is necessary at this point.”

Francesca returned with ice and a towel. “Thank you,” T.K. said, wrapping the ice up tightly and then ever so gently pressing it against Carlos’ head.

He hissed in pain, knuckles gripping the edge of the picnic bench so hard he felt splinters of wood begin to dig into his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” T.K. murmured sympathetically. “We need to try and get the swelling down.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos said through gritted teeth. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his head to hurt more, but the added coldness of the ice was proving to be too much and he felt the tight hold he had on his composure starting to slip. He wanted to leave, he wanted to lie down and sleep, he wanted T.K. to hold him while he cried like a baby because everything hurt like a motherfucker and he was embarrassed as hell about it. 

His family was still carrying on around him, he could hear them asking questions and making plans, but all he focused on was T.K.’s free hand, the one that wasn’t pressing ice to his skull. That hand was resting comfortingly on his knee, thumb moving slowly back and forth. Thank god T.K. was here to mitigate the chaos.

He didn’t realize he was starting to drift away until T.K.’s hand squeezed his knee more tightly and then moved up to his shoulder, keeping him upright. “Hey, hey, no, don’t go to sleep,” he said urgently.

Right. Sleep was not a good idea. Carlos forced his eyes open and tried to focus on his boyfriend’s worried face, but it swam in front of him and made his stomach churn. “T.K…”

“I’ve got you,” T.K. said firmly. He turned and looked up at Andrea and Gabriel who had come to hover a little closer. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive you,” Andrea said immediately.

“You’re entertaining all these guests mi amor,” Gabriel said. “You stay, I’ll take the boys.”

“We’re all coming,” Lucía said immediately.

Carlos felt his heart rate quicken at the thought of his entire family standing around in the hospital waiting room and the kind of chaos that would cause. He didn’t need to worry though. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” T.K. said quickly. “There’s no reason to believe this is anything more serious than a concussion. It will be quick, not worth everyone coming out.”

“I will update you the entire time,” Gabriel promised.

“Text messages every five minutes,” Andrea ordered.

“Can you stand?” T.K. asked and Carlos nodded his affirmative, immediately regretting the motion when the throbbing in his skull increased.

T.K. took his arm and Carlos got up on wobbly legs. He made it about two steps before his knees began to give out and he felt his father grab his other arm. “Steady mijo,” Gabriel said.

It seemed like an eternity before they passed through the house and into the front driveway. Out of sight of his family Carlos felt the last of his control slip away. The blood drained from his face and he gagged. 

“Whoa!” T.K. said, quickly lowering him to the ground as he began to heave out the contents of his stomach onto the concrete.

By the time it was over Carlos’ pain had ratcheted up to somewhere in the nines and he heard himself letting out a pathetic whimper as his brain exploded inside of his skull. “Easy Carlitos, easy,” his father said, the words barely registering as he and T.K. lifted Carlos back onto his feet and basically carried him the rest of the way to his dad’s truck.

He ended up with his head in T.K.’s lap, his boyfriend continuing to hold ice against his head with one hand, while the other ran soothingly up and down his arm. “Stay awake for me, all right?” he said.

“Trying,” Carlos said, his voice sounding cracked and broken. Mostly he was trying to breathe because he really didn’t want to throw up again. Every bump in the road, every touch of the breaks, sent pain ricocheting through his head. “It really hurts.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. We’re almost there,” T.K. said softly. “You’re all right, keep breathing, okay?”

Gabriel pulled directly up to the ER doors and he and T.K. helped Carlos into a wheelchair. If he’d been in any less pain he would have found the entire thing humiliating, but every bit of his energy was currently being spent on staying awake and not vomiting all over the floor.

“I’ll park the car and meet you inside,” Gabriel said as T.K. pushed him through the doors.

The next few hours were a hellish blur. They ran a battery of tests including an MRI and a CT scan, asked him dozens of questions, all of which he was able to answer thank god.

Despite his best efforts, he threw up twice more, T.K. holding a basin in front of his face each time, then rubbing his back comfortingly as he curled into a ball, knives stabbing through his head after such violent movement.

He hated being reduced to a shaking, moaning mess, especially in front of his father, but there was no help for it. The pain was only growing worse and there was no relief in sight, not until the tests came back.

“Breathe,” T.K. said, running a thumb back and forth over Carlos’ hand. “Carlos you have to breathe and try to relax.”

“I can’t.” The words came out on a whimper. “It hurts.”

“Carlitos, you have to try,” his dad said, sounding beyond concerned. “The more tense you are the worse it will feel.”

Tears slid down his cheeks as the pounding in his head beat on relentlessly. It had been hours and there was never any relief to the waves of pain, just a constant throbbing, knifelike agony. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself, ragged, stuttering breaths tearing from his chest.

“I’m going to go find the nurse,” Gabriel said. “My wife and daughters might be better at nagging, but I’m sure I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

He disappeared out the door and the next thing Carlos knew the bed was shifting as T.K. climbed in with him, wrapping his arms tightly around Carlos’ body. “What are you doing?” Carlos choked out.

“Taking care of you,” he said, his lips by Carlos’ ear. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe. Just a little bit longer and we’ll get you some medication. I promise.”

T.K.’s fingers stroked up and down his arm and he continued to murmur soothing words into Carlos’ ear. Carlos felt his muscles slowly begin to unclench one at a time. The agony in his skull began to ease, just enough that he could breathe easier and think a little more clearly.

His dad must have given someone a piece of his mind because within fifteen minutes the doctor had returned. “Okay, Mr. Reyes we are looking at a grade two concussion here. All your scans came back clear so while painful, your recovery should be pretty easy.”

“No brain bleed?” T.K. asked.

“No. No brain bleed, no skull fracture.”

He could see T.K. and his father sag in relief. They were both putting on a good front, trying to be strong for him, but in that moment the worry in the room finally lifted off like a cloud, dissipating into calm.

“We’re going to keep you for a little bit, start you on some strong Tylenol to help manage the pain. I’ll come check on you in an hour okay?”

It was another two hours before they were finally able to go home, Gabriel dropping them off with promises to bring Carlos’ car over in the morning.

He was more steady on his feet now and the medication had helped both his headache and the nausea, so with T.K.’s help he was able to manage the stairs without too much difficulty.

T.K. sat him on the bed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can do it,” Carlos said, but his boyfriend gave him a stern look and continued. 

This behavior persisted until Carlos was settled in bed, an extra pillow behind his head, a glass of water on the nightstand along with additional Tylenol. “Better?” T.K. asked as Carlos leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Carlos told him. The lights were dim, causing his splitting headache to dull to a throbbing one instead. 

He heard his phone buzz for the thousandth time in the last few hours. “Do you want to see who that is?”

He couldn’t look at the screen without feeling like someone had stabbed a knife through his eyes. Hopefully that would pass quickly. It was only a grade two concussion and most of his pain was coming from the actual injury itself, not his brain rattling around in his skull.

T.K. punched in Carlos’ passcode and then scrolled through. “You have forty seven unread texts. Most of them are from your sisters. A few from your mom and aunts. And one reminding you to vote next week.”

Carlos groaned. “You’d think I was dying. This isn’t even as bad as the time Elías flipped the four wheeler over while we were on vacation. He broke his leg in two places and had to have surgery and nobody was all over him.”

“Oh, the texts aren’t about you,” T.K. said, eyes lighting up with mirth.

Carlos squinted at him. “I’m confused then.”

T.K. cleared his throat. “You listen to T.K. and do what he says. That one is from Teresa.” He scrolled a little further. “Congratulations on picking someone who’s not a dick. He actually comes in handy, that’s Adriana.” He snorted. “And this one from Francesca just says, ‘Remember not to fuck again until your brain is better.’”

“You know, Tía Maria campaigned pretty hard to send her to a convent when she was a teenager. Some days I think we should have let her,” Carlos said.

“The rest are variations on how great I am and how you need to eat a lot of soup and get a lot of rest. And I have a text from your mom.”

Carlos cracked one eye to look at him. “Are you going to share?”

“Mm…I’m not sure you can handle this one.”

T.K. was grinning from ear to ear, clearly beyond proud of himself and delighted to have information Carlos didn’t. 

“T.K. just read it. I can see that smug look on your face.”

He cleared his throat. “T.K. thank you for taking care of our Carlitos. You are such a blessing to our family.” T.K. grinned. “They like me.”

“Of course they like you.”

“They really like me.”

“Yes, T.K. My family loves you. Just like I always knew they would.”

“Well I appreciate that. But you really didn’t have to get hit in the head with a baseball just so I could endear them to me with my paramedic skills.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Marco,” Carlos said. “He’s the one with an arm like a Major League baseball player.”

“Yeah he can really throw huh?” T.K. said, brushing a gentle hand through Carlo’s curls, careful to avoid the area the ball had struck. “How’s your pain?”

“Tolerable,” Carlos said. 

“And the nausea?”

“Better,” Carlos said. 

“Good.” T.K. seemed relieved. “Listen, next time you want to get out of a family activity, you can just tell me. You don’t need to give yourself a grade two concussion. Just say the word and I will fake an emergency and get us out of there.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fake an emergency after hour one,” Carlos said. “Thank you for today. You getting along with my family it…” Tears threatened to close his throat and he forced them back because he really wanted T.K. to know what he was feeling. “It means everything.”

“They’re easy to get along with,” T.K. said. “And we have a lot in common.”

“Oh?”

“We all love you.”

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

Oooh i'm gonna with #3 please! And Valtor as a bartender.

He truly loathed his job.

The disgusting smell of cheap drinks spilled on the bar mixed with the stench of sweat and cheap perfume, from grinding bodies on the dancefloor and humping barely-legals in the corner, made him nauseous. The music was loud to the point his heartbeat developed arrhythmia whenever a bass boosted song played through the obnoxious sound system. To make matters worse, one of the speakers was set directly above the bar and Valtor was sick of buying earplugs every week, because if he didn’t use any protection, he’s pretty sure he would go deaf before he hit 40 and he once again cursed himself for forgetting them at home.

A particularly high note came on, and the crowd cheered while Valtor cringed as he felt the microscopic hairs in his ears, sensitive to high notes, shrivel up and die. He rolled his eyes as he spotted a tall blonde dragging taller brunette towards the restroom. Apparently, couples basically dry humping each other on the dancefloor and sucking their faces off in the corners wasn’t enough, so universe also decided to throw in a couple about to commit an indecent act in a public bathroom?

He was just about to call one of the bouncers when it hit him – he doesn’t care. Oh well. What can you do?

A woman, wearing something Valtor could only describe as lingerie, came to the bar and ordered a fruity cocktail and for the umpteenth time, he wondered how his life turned into this? How did he go from graduating on a prestigious college, having a stable job and a fiancée, to wiping down spit from the counter top on a Saturday night.

He used to be a successful attorney, his yearly salary reaching up to five-zero figure, a stable relationships, loving girlfriend and more, and yet, all of that collapsed under the enormous weight couple of words held.

His hands worked on autopilot, mixing the necessary drinks while his thoughts were miles away.

Now, whatever’s left of his past life lives in a small condo across the town and Valtor chuckled at the irony of life giving him lemons while he chopped one to mix it into the cocktail. He squeezed the juice out of the poor fruit, with probably more force than was necessary, getting some of it on his shirt in the process.

“What are you chuckling about?” The woman was leaning over the counter, her chest basically spilling out of her dress as she played with the ends of her dark hair.

Valtor raised an eyebrow as he bent down to retrieve one of the decorative umbrellas. “Nothing that would be of interest to you.” He saw her flinch in surprise at the rather sharp tone he unintentionally used. “Miss.” He added as an afterthought, hoping it would make him look less abrasive. Unhappy customers don’t tip well after all.

“Oh. Well maybe it does interest me. You’ll never know unless you try.” The woman smiled flirtatiously while her fingers continued twirling the strands of her hair. “I’m Mitzi, by the way.” She offered her hand to him.

Valtor only quirked an unamused eyebrow. “I don’t remember asking for your name.” The smile was quick to disappear from her face and she snatched her hand back like it’s been burned.

He closed his eyes as his tongue, once again, proved to be faster than his brain. It’s what got him into trouble a lot of times and this one might’ve just taken a cake because if the girl went to complain to his boss, he’d be in a world of shit. “I was trying to be nice, but it seems to me you’re too much of an asshole to appreciate it.” Mitzi gritted out with obvious false confidence because a fierce blush was very much present on her face. This obviously didn’t happen to her a lot.

First time for everything, Valtor thought.

“What I would really appreciate, Mitzi,” Don’t do it, “is if you could stop your 36C's, that you stuffed into a 34B bra, from spilling all over my counter.” You absolute moron! “I have to wipe it.”

Now you’ve done it.

Mitzi turned even reader, and Valtor wondered if he should start dialing an ambulance just in case, but she only snatched the drink he placed in front of her and threw a 5$ bill in his face. “Jerk!” And just like that, she was gone.

“Have a nice evening!” Drop dead.

He rolled his eyes and took a glass that needed wiping just to occupy his hands for a minute because he felt like a coiled string, just about to snap and burn everything in its path.

“I have to say,” girl’s voice reached him, “you just fixed my evening.” Valtor lowered the glass to the solid surface and turned to face the owner.

His brain short circuited.

Though her body was mostly obstructed by the counter, he could see that the navy blue slip dress she wore draped beautifully across her slender figure. She was also incredibly short that even standing up straight, in what Valtor assumed were ridiculously high heels, she was at least head and a half shorten than him. But the most obvious, and striking thing about her, was her red hair. Valtor never even thought that hair could be as vibrant as hers.

In his almost 35 years of life, Valtor has never seen someone as interesting as the girl standing in front of him.

When he finally shook himself out of his stupor, and when it became painfully obvious he was making her uncomfortable with his gawking (really, there was no other word for it), he smiled and spoke. “Well, I’m pleased to hear that because it will undoubtedly ruin my life.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her reporting you.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Her ego is too big for her to accept she just got rejected.”

“You know her?”

There was something nostalgic in her smile. “I used to know her… or maybe I just thought I know her.”

Valtor observed the unusual girl in front of him. In his several years as a bartender and even before, he developed quite a knack for reading people. She seemed, to him at least, like one of those lost souls that recently had their world turned upside down but tried despite to appear normal. You and me both. “Would you like something to drink?”

Her head snapped up and her electric blue eyes met his. “Oh! Yes, um,” she fidgeted slightly, her hands wringing together and picking at her nails, “anything with vodka.”

He nodded and turned his back on her to find a bottle of the best vodka the club had to offer. He didn’t know why he suddenly paid so much attention to what he’s mixing into drinks but something pulled him towards this girl like gravity and he was too weak to resist it. “Straight?” He asked without turning around.

“Ummm, that’s a bit personal don’t you think? I mean, I just met you.” Valtor stopped what he was doing and turned his head so she could see the confused frown on his face. “I don’t even know your name. As far as I know you could be a serial killer.”

It downed on Valtor what she was talking about and he chuckled at her adorable rant. “I meant the Vodka.”

Her lips shaped into a silent “O" and he saw how her neck and face turned red from embarrassed. She moaned and buried her face into her hands. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He picked the bottle and turned back around so he was facing her. He extended his unoccupied hand across the counter top. “I’m Valtor.”

She shook his hand, her hand incredibly small in his huge one, blush still present on her cheeks. “Bloom. And yes, straight vodka is fine.”

“I’ve only seen Russians drink vodka by itself.”

“I’m quarter Russian. My mom’s dad is from Russia.” Valtor nodded along as he fixed her a drink.

“Impressive.”

“it’s really not. It only made me the laughing stock of the entire class.” She took the glass filled with clear liquid, their fingers brushing together on accident, and Valtor felt a spark rushing up his nerve endings. “But, I can drink most people under the table so I guess I should be grateful.”

Humor was obviously one of the things she used to deflect the pain and trauma bullying inevitably caused. “Your hair is very… unusual. Natural?”

She nodded. “Yup. This is one of the things I inherited from grandpa.”

“Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t my intention.”

“No no, don’t worry.” Her lips wrapped around the edge of the glass as she took a sip and closed her eyes to savor the feeling of burning liquid sliding down her throat. “It’s actually one of the nicest things someone has said to me about my hair.”

Valtor looked at her with a small smirk on his face. “That bad, huh?”

“You don’t want to know.” Bloom tilted the glass and took a large swing of the drink, only a small amount remaining at the bottom. “What about you?”

Valtor shrugged. “What about me?”

“You have an unusual hair too.”

Indeed. His long strawberry blond hair was tied in a ponytail, but unlike herself, he loved his hair and didn’t particularly give a damn what anybody else thought about it. “I don’t really care about somebody else’s opinion and neither should you.”

“I’ve stopped that long time ago.” Valtor nodded towards her almost empty glass and she slid it towards him for a refill. “But you know, scars remain.”

He nodded. “That I do know.” Valtor saw another guy coming up to the bar so he excused himself. As soon as he moved away from her, the unpleasant sensations that accompany prolonged presence in a loud room came rushing back like a rogue train and Valtor felt the onsets of a headache forming. He served the guy and returned to Bloom who was now nursing her drink instead of knocking it back like the first time.

“So what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

She quirked one eyebrow. “A girl like me?”

“Not to be rude, but this doesn’t seem like your cup of tea.”

She laughed. “It’s my friend’s birthday. She dragged me here against my will while promising she’ll stay with me the entire time. It took me turning around for her to vanish without a trace with her boyfriend.”

“That friend of yours,” he started, “wouldn’t happen to be a tall blonde dragging a brunette with her?”

“That’s her.”

Valtor made a face. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing a lot of her tonight.” His eyes slid to the direction of the restroom.

Bloom followed his gaze and she groaned when she saw where her friend went to. “Not this again.”

“Again? This happens a lot?”

“Unfortunately, it happens more than I would like to.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Right,” he drawled, “because who doesn’t like seeing their friends going at it.” Sarcasm was dripping from his words.

“How long have they been in there?” She asked while looking at her wrist watch.

“Fifteen minutes or so.”

“Damn animals. I’m never coming to the club with her again.”

An amused chuckle escaped him. “That’s not the first time you’ve said that, am I right?”

She smiled and took a sip of vodka. “Nope.”

Just as he opened his mouth to ask her another question, her blonde friend wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Valtor’s eyebrow did a backflip. How she managed to avoid detection while leaving the bathroom was beyond him.

“Damn Bloom, I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already seducing hot bartenders!”

“Stella! First of all, I am not seducing anybody,” Maybe not intentionally, “secondly, it’s been almost twenty minutes and thirdly, what happened to your promise of not ditching me? And the moment I turn around, you’re already gone?”

Stella, if Valtor heeard correctly, giggled. “Oh live a little Bloom. Besides, it’s not like you were in a bad company.” Her eyes ran over Valtor’s form. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of that.” She ogled Valtor like a piece of chocolate cake.

“I’m standing right here.”

“Okay, that’s enough for today! We’re going home.” Bloom grabbed her purse and was about to pull out her wallet when Valtor raised his arm to stop her.

“It’s on the house.”

“But Blooooom,” There was really no words to describe the sound that exited blonde’s mouth, “we just got here.”

“The fact that you're talking about having a threesome with a stranger says enough about your state.”

“I’m pretty sure Brandon wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, time out. Let’s go.” She turned towards Valtor, a small card between her fingers. She leaned over the counter while one of her arms stayed behind, supporting her friend. “Thank you.” She slipped the card into his hand. “Call me if you wanna talk sometimes.” And with that, she spun on her heel and dragged Stella towards the exit.

Valtor stood in shock, not knowing how to react for a few minutes, staring at the business card in his hands.

Bloom Peters MD.

He shook his head, hand safely pocketing the precious cargo before he picked up the glass she’s been drinking from and turning around to wash it. The sound of retching caused him to turn around in time to see some wasted man empty the content of his stomach on an obnoxious red carpet. The stench of vomit mixed with other delightful aromas and Valtor was once again reminded how much he hated his job.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Photograph (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,8 k

Summary: Claire and Ethan attend Naveen’s birthday party ft. jealous Ethan

Warnings: None (though MSWord told me that ‘bastard’ might be offensive to my readers so who knows)

A/N: @justanotherrookie​ look, I made it :D it’s an honor to be considered your friend, you slay my life, pls continue to do so <3

A large clothing bag was thrown over his shoulder as he strode towards his office. The light of the day was slowly giving way to the dimness of the evening. Ethan exchanged his working clothes and a white coat for a tux, hair styled meticulously and an alluring scent of his cologne filling the air around him.

He expected her to be waiting for him inside, but upon entering the room, he noticed her absence. Before he could reach for his phone to call her, the door opened and a very frenzied and out of breath Claire appeared. Their eyes locked and she breathed out in relief at the sight of him.

“Sorry I’m late, our patient in 507 needed additional tests run and then there was hold up in the lab and I couldn’t get the results fast enough- “

“Take a breath, baby, calm down.” He laughed under his breath, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer. She stared up at him for a moment, then stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. She let out a low hum of contentment.

“Mmh Ethan Ramsey, the best tranquilizer known to humankind.” Claire complimented, brushing her nose against his. “I’m not sharing with anyone, though.”

“Spoken like a true addict. Though, I have to say…” he gripped her hips tighter, smirking at the way her pupils dilated slightly at the motion. “You’re addictive too.”

She leaned up to kiss him again only for her lips to meet his cheek when his head turned. Slightly confused, she leaned away to look at him.

“If you kiss me again, we’ll never make it to the party.” He muttered, stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Go get ready, there’s still time.”

It takes her entire twenty minutes for her to put her dress and shoes on, touch up her makeup and tame her hair. Ethan was waiting for her by the wall, his head rising to look at her when she came back. His breath got caught in his throat for a split second, awe induced by her entire being stopping his thought process momentarily.

He walked over to her, smoothing out one unruly lock of hair, his over hand tracing the edge of the cleavage of her dress.

“I take it you like it?” Claire grinned, toying with the lapel of his jacket. He hummed affirmatively, bringing her closer to his side as they began walking.

“If it wasn’t for the party, I would have shown you just how much.”

~

Naveen, unlike his protégé, liked to celebrate his birthday. He didn’t manage to organize himself a party every year, so he settled for throwing a rather big get-together every few years. Other than that, he settled for small celebrations with Harper, Ethan and, since last year, Claire.

This year, however, was the party year. Claire couldn’t wait. Ethan, on the other hand, wasn’t looking forward to it as much. Tradition was tradition, however, and combined with very convincing arguments from Claire, he didn’t argue.

Due to the situation at the hospital, they were running a bit late. Their saving grace was that they bought the present a few days earlier and that the host was their very dear friend.

“I was beginning to think you two wouldn’t make it!” Naveen exclaimed, greeting the two by the entrance to the bar. He embraced Claire, then Ethan, smiling widely at the pair.

“I like to think we’re fashionably late.” She winked, then passed the gift she was holding to him, warning him of its weight. The oldest doctor deposited the bag at the table near the side of the room, then guided the pair to the group of people by the bar.

“I’m sure you all remember Ethan, so let me introduce you to Claire Herondale, a brilliant young doctor that I literally owe my life to.” Naveen spoke up, a pride tone in his voice when the memories of the pair working together on his case flooded his mind. Claire blushed a bit, taking a small step towards the group.

“Naveen is entirely too generous in his assessment.”

“No, he’s not.” Ethan argued, smiling down at his girlfriend. His hand glided up and down her side affectionately. “You are brilliant.”

Among the people in the group, most of them shared a common feature of surprise at the affectionate side of Ethan Ramsey. They’ve met a couple of times at public functions more or less formal than this one, but all those instances had one thing in common. Ethan Ramsey was alone. Ethan Ramsey was solely focused on his work and his patients. So, to see him with a woman on his arm, and to see him so infatuated with her, was a sight for sure.

Ethan didn’t mind most of the people Naveen invited. They were all amazing doctors and scientists; talking to them was usually an interesting and challenging for his brain experience.

That statement, however, wasn’t entirely true when it came to Jonathan Millstone. In general, he didn’t mind the man all that much. As a researcher, he was great. As a man, not so much. From his more than forward attitude, to his treatment of other people, women especially, everything combined into a not so alluring picture in Ethan’s opinion. He never voiced it, however, as the behavior of the researcher never impacted him directly.

Up until that point, that is.

Because Jonathan had wandering eyes. And his gaze has made itself at home on Claire. Her face, her neck, her waist. The slit of her dress. But most of all, the neckline of the said dress.

There was no shame in his ogling, not a hint of embarrassment when she noticed him staring. He didn’t say a word to her, just stood there and watched.

She breathed in heavily, trying to keep her annoyance at bay. Sensing how motionless Ethan has become, she snaked her hand around his arm, pushing herself closer to his side, twisting her body slightly to shield herself from insisting eyes of the other man. Ethan’s arm immediately wrapped tighter around her, amplifying the effect of her actions. It was the subtlest way she could have given Jonathan a hint that she was in a relationship and wasn’t, even in the slightest, interested or flattered by his behavior.

Surprising no one, he didn’t take a hint.

As they walked away from the group, Claire turned towards Ethan with a glint in her eyes.

“That was some impressive jealousy management you had there, Dr. Ramsey.” She gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. His hands squeezed her sides, his lips hovering right above hers.

“I was holding onto the last bits of patience.”

“I’m glad you did. Tonight, is about Naveen.”

A teasing grin grew on his lips in one moment, and in the next, he was twirling her out and into his arms. His fingers twisted the fabric of her dress slightly, the material rising off the ground a bit. Claire wrapped her arms around his neck, their face coming so close together that they were breathing the same air.

A soft sound of a working camera broke the bubble they were in, causing them both to look over. A photographer stood there, asking them if he could take a portrait of the two of them, per request of the host.

Ethan didn’t have to search very long for Naveen, who had a satisfied smile on his face. He shook his head with a sigh, then turned back to the photographer, nodding slightly in agreement.

With his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, they faced the camera, easy grins lighting up their features. Claire’s hand glided over his back, then slipped into the pocket of his jacket, the tips of her fingers pressing into his side playfully.

“Remind me to get that photo from Naveen later.” He muttered into her ear when they were alone again. She nodded, pressing them together so they could dance.

A few songs later, Claire managed to persuade him to let her get them drinks. And it did take some heavy convincing, especially when the first response she got was ‘I’m not going to be drinking any colorful nonsense’. She promised to not disappoint, then went towards the bar.

He turned around, coming face to face with Jonathan Millstone. He watched something right above the diagnostician’s shoulder, and Ethan didn’t have to guess or turn around to know just who was on the end of his gaze. When two men looked at each other, smugness and arrogance met irritation and disapproval. An explosive mix.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Ramsey with a date.”

“Would it kill you to be more respectful towards anyone?”

“She’s a real piece of beauty. You’re one lucky bastard, getting to score her.” Jonathan admitted out loud, watching how his words affected the doctor. Ethan’s hands rolled into fists and he was about to take a step towards the man, when a deadly calm voice called out from behind him.

“And you’re a real piece of an asshole.”

Both men froze in place when Claire walked to stand next to them. One would expect an angry scowl to reside on her face, but instead, she was neutral. Not a single emotion shown.

Wordlessly, she passed Ethan his glass of scotch, her eyes zeroing in on Jonathan. She weighed her own drink in the glass, swirling the liquid inside a couple of times. When she raised it, the researcher took a step back, expecting her to throw a drink in his face. Instead, she took a sip, smirking at his scared expression.

“You’re also lucky. I won’t make a scene at Naveen’s party.”

He thought he was off the hook. Oh, how wrong he was. Ethan took a definite step towards him, gripping his arm in a vice-like hold. “I’m not that generous, though. I suggest you learn your lesson and beat it.”

With a curt nod, he bid them goodbye (very respectfully) and got lost in the crowd. Claire’s face finally broke out into a smile.

“That felt good.” She shook her shoulders a bit, laughing in relief. Ethan bent his head, lips tracing the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“It was also incredibly attractive.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants to drag him closer, her expression feigning innocence despite very suggestive looks they were both giving one another.

“Let me get you home so you can find out.”

Notes

We’re absolutely going to ignore the difference between the dress in the fic and the dress in the pic (yes, I’m a poet)

Denise, find the Hamilton reference (a literal line, no shame) :D

Tagging separately

[marshmallowgoop]

Magic Kaito vs. Magic Kaito 1412

I’m not sure if I ever finished all twelve episodes, but I first watched at least a handful of the original Magic Kaito specials about a decade ago, and I remember really enjoying them. Superhero stories are among my favorites, and while both Magic Kaito and its sister series Detective Conan overlap with the genre in various ways—after all, Conan’s glasses were literally inspired by Clark Kent—Kaito’s flashy costume alone pushes his adventures more in that direction. So, maybe it’s no wonder that, back in the day, I kind of considered Magic Kaito my preferred series of the two.

Recently, I’ve got a reignited interest in the DCMK world (evidently). And it’s not a bad time to have a reignited interest, because English-language accessibility for this universe is much better now than it was ten years ago. Conan’s getting new movie dubs, and Kaito’s newer, expanded TV series, Magic Kaito 1412, is freely available on Crunchyroll. Obviously, I had to give it a shot.

I wasn’t impressed. Far from it. I chalked up my old fondness to nostalgia goggles. Kid the Phantom Thief is simply more enjoyable in Detective Conan than in his own thing, I figured.

But a few weeks ago, those old specials went up on Crunchyroll Germany. And it took me a while, but I finally decided to figure out the truth, once and for all. Have my tastes totally changed, or has Magic Kaito anime not always been Like That?

I was impressed. I watched all of one episode, and I enjoyed it so much more than 1412.

Which surprised me! Just examining the first episodes of both series, they’re honestly practically identical. They cover the same story beats almost exactly. Kaito’s introduction is even consistently him being disgusting to Aoko—behavior that, nauseatingly, convinced me that Mineta of the My Hero Academia series would actually be adored if he were conventionally attractive.

But as it turns out, that’s relevant to why the original Magic Kaito strikes me as far more palatable. Kaito’s actions towards Aoko are still indefensible in the old special, but he doesn’t repeat them on his teacher, and there are repercussions. Unlike in 1412, Kaito doesn’t get away with his harassment because his teacher finds him charming; in fact, Aoko even later notes that he “should be thankful [he] [wasn’t] expelled,” implying that he was indeed punished harshly for what he did. While Aoko assures Kaito’s mother that he didn’t get in trouble in 1412, in the original special, it’s clear that being cute isn’t enough to give him a free pass for disrupting class and being gross.

Further, in a more general sense, the tone of both series is of course goofy overall, but the characters in the old Magic Kaito feel much more like human beings than the cartoonish caricatures portrayed in 1412. A scene especially missing from the new show is a quiet one where Kaito and Aoko walk together after school. With the sun hanging low in the sky and a sparkling river flowing beside them, Kaito expresses his disappointment in how his magic trick didn’t exactly end as planned. “I guess I need to work on my finale,” he bemoans, but Aoko is more concerned with why he feels the need to pull these ridiculous stunts in the first place.

She quickly gets her answer. One of the exuberant little kids who had run by them earlier falls over and cries, and Kaito doesn’t hesitate to cheer him up with magic. And Aoko watches. She sees the way the little boy’s face lights up. She sees how he runs off again with renewed energy. And she smiles. She doesn’t say it, but the audience gets the message.

Oh. That’s why Kaito’s a magician. That’s why Aoko walks by his side.

I won’t claim to fully comprehend Kaito’s character. I haven’t read the manga, it’s been years since I’ve seen more than the first episode of these old specials, I’ve only watched about 20% of 1412, and for as much as I’ve been posting about Detective Conan lately, I’m (maybe humorously) about the farthest thing from current and would only be able to tell you about Kid’s first appearance in that show. But when Kaito returns to his empty home in the original series, and when he announces that he’s there to nobody at all, and when he welcomes himself back, all with a smile and a cheerfulness to his tone, I deeply feel his loneliness. I feel the weight of his lost father. I feel that, even if some of his tricks are inappropriate and inexcusable, he does them because he wants to make people laugh. He doesn’t want anyone to feel as sad and alone as he’s felt.

Maybe I missed it, but I didn’t get any of that from Magic Kaito 1412.

And they’re small things, they really are. But they make a world of difference. Even Jii, who really only becomes more than just a mysterious figure in the episode’s closing minutes, feels more like a tangible person in the special. He loudly gasps for breath after performing the magical, fantastical feats of his old friend, and it’s such a tiny, minuscule detail, but when watching, I feel it so strongly. I literally understand the strain of Toichi’s loss on Jii, too.

Beyond narrative decisions—and there are others that I much prefer in the old series, such as how Kaito links his failed magic trick to his father’s “poker face” philosophy, and how Kaito uses a successful variation of his earlier trick to escape the police as Kid the Phantom Thief—I also just simply prefer the original art style. Magic Kaito 1412 is slick and shiny and modern, but in being so, it strikes me as much more generic than the older-styled 2010 special. Shot compositions also feel more powerful in the first anime; just consider how differently the two series handle what is arguably the emotional height of the entire episode:

[Image descriptions: A series of four comparison images examining how the 2010 Magic Kaito series and the 2014 Magic Kaito 1412 portray the same sequence of events. In both, Kaito asks Jii, “Dad was murdered?! Was my dad... a thief? Was he Kid the Phantom Thief?” Kaito then says, “I see...” End image descriptions.]

While the dialogue is essentially unchanged, the old show’s use of close-ups expresses the tension of the scene spectacularly. You can see the terror in Kaito’s eyes. You can see how the thought of his father being a thief is so distressing that merely asking the question is painful and heartwrenching. You can see the sweat on Kaito’s face. You can see in great detail how much he struggles to grapple with this new truth.

Magic Kaito 1412 is significantly more distanced. And there’s power in that decision, too. The revelation is overwhelming. It’s hard to take. Kaito may want to get away from it, but he can’t.

However, I resonate more with how the original series handles the moment. Seeing how everything affects Kaito way up close speaks much more to me—and there are still some fantastic long shots, too:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from the original Magic Kaito series. Both are distanced long shots. In the first image, Kaito and Jii kneel on the ground. Kaito’s hands are on Jii’s shoulders. In the second image, Kaito stands, facing away from Jii, while Jii remains on the ground in shame. They wear identical outfits in both images, and their capes blow in the wind. End image descriptions.]

Gotta love those capes.

Overall, my feelings on Magic Kaito as a whole could probably be best described as somewhat mixed. And I’m kind of new here, and I don’t even know when it’s appropriate to use the #dcmk tag, so I of course don’t have the slightest clue about how popular or unpopular my opinion that the 2010 Magic Kaito series ranks above 2014′s Magic Kaito 1412 is. 

But skipping down memory lane and revisiting the old show was pleasantly surprising. Maybe my affection for Magic Kaito will never reach the highs it once had all those years ago, but it was almost comforting to find that my tastes haven’t changed all that much—rather, it’s Magic Kaito itself that’s changed.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

A Good Deal

lets not talk about what day it was bogizens... 👀 this is part of the hallmark june weddings event we did in the bog!  

it’s also on ao3 here!

Warnings: insecure eskel, stressed triss, honestly its pretty fluffy., could be classified as mild emotional whump.

_____________

Triss was frantic when Eskel trudged up the stairs to the back door in the kitchen. He paused for a moment, leaning against the railing where he could just see her through the window in the door, box braids falling out of her loose bun, some sort of sauce smudged on her forehead, her arm muscles standing out and furiously beating the ever-loving shit out of whatever was in her bowl. Fuck, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A little scary too, but that was his type.

“Afternoon, Gorgeous,” he called through the screen door, waiting for her to unlock it.

Instead of her normal ‘Afternoon, Handsome,’ he got a snappy, “If any bit of your clothing has been at the fire station, take it off out there. I just got the floors clean, and I don’t have time to do them again before the wedding.”

“If you wanted a striptease you could have just asked,” he chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his boots off. All of him had just come from the station.

“Eskel, please,” her voice was about an octave higher than when he liked to hear those words normally, and the tightness at the end of her words made him worried.

“I’m clean, ish, can I come in?”

When she let him in she only gave him a quick peck before it was back to what Eskel could now see were egg whites.

“What’s wrong?”

That was apparently the wrong question. Triss dropped the bowl back onto the counter and braced herself against it, hanging her head. Her shoulders looked so tense Eskel thought the muscles might snap, “Fucking everything. Yen’s parents are getting in tomorrow and I only have the middle floor flipped because Annalee called in sick and Taylor is nowhere to be found, and I have to get this breakfast prepped because I have to make sure there’s food for the girls to eat while they get ready. Then I still have to call Jaskier and see when he’s bringing the cake and décor over and I have to run into the store to get the food for the next three days while they’re here and one of Yen’s aunt’s is allergic to everything under the fucking sun! Oh! And I also need to tell Jask to do everything last minute as far as the cake goes because I don’t have the fridge space and-and there’s still a goddamned molehill in the backyard where they’re having the ceremony and-“

Eskel wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing one hand over her sternum and one over her stomach, and held her tight while he whispered, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out. Just take a minute to breathe for me?”

She took a shuddering deep breath and let it out as she rested her head back against his chest, brushing a stray braid out of her eyes, “…and I have a headache…”

“That,” Eskel mumbled, pausing to press a kiss to her forehead, “we can fix quickly.” He pulled them over to her medicine cabinet and handed her some ibuprofen and a large glass of water, also insisting she sit and eat something.

After a minute or two of Triss picking at some leftover pasta salad she groaned and shoved it away, “ and my mother called.”

“How’re Sheila and the dogs?”

“Fucking unbearable,” she grumbled, pitching her voice up and scrunching her nose to imitate her mother’s nasally voice, “ When are you settling down? I was so excited when you said wedding! Haven’t you hired an inn manager yet? Why do you still clean rooms? Did you read that diet book I sent you?”

Pushing her pasta back towards her after the last question, Eskel did his best to remain casual and calm, “I thought she hated me?”

“She hates all of my partners on principle, but you’ve made the top spot for ‘least hated’,” Triss shot him a little smirk as she aggressively stabbed some more pasta, “I told her I’m quite settled and we’re happy for now and to get her nose out of other people’s business- yes I see the irony .”

Eskel forced a bit of a laugh and tried not to bite his lip. He’d been thinking about this since Yen and Renfri’s engagement party. The way Triss looked at him while the couple gushed about how they were so excited to spend the rest of their lives together (and torment some relatives with making it official) had settled in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Every day, he flip-flopped on whether there was a little hope there or if she just thought it was sweet. And every day he berated himself for not bringing it up, but he had never even entertained the idea of marriage. Hell, his main relationship had been a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Geralt, and the few before that had been rocky at best. He wasn’t cut out to be a husband. Certainly not to someone so kind and gentle and fiercely loyal and sharp as Triss. What did he have to offer? A dangerous job and nasty burn scars for their wedding photos?

She must have sensed his hesitation and pushed her pasta over to him, “Eat. I need to keep cooking… and clean the top floor.”

He hooked an arm around her waist as she walked around the little kitchen island they sat at, pulling her close and stealing the keys out of her pocket, “I’ll go get groceries after I clean the top floor. Is the laundry started?”

“You’re too good to me, Teddy Bear,” she sighed, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Not good enough.”

She frowned, resting her palm over his jaw and searching his eyes, “We’ll come back to that when the inn is ready.”

As he stood, he stole a quick kiss and darted up the stairs, “You’re taking a nap when the inn is ready!”

-

It had all come together in the end. Triss even got some impressed looks and glowing reviews from Yennefer’s family when they arrived. The periwinkle went beautifully with the gardenia Triss had woven through the lattice around the backyard and Eskel had managed to make the moles disappear and patch the grass so even she couldn’t tell where they’d been.

Eskel watched Triss dart around the property, even after her job was done, making sure everyone was comfortable and everything ran smoothly for the girls and as much as he tried to push it down, he was just reminded of how she deserved so much more. More than a scarred, overweight firefighter with a killer therapy bill and a studio apartment that looked more like a hotel room than a home.

As he was watching the different couples swooping around the tiny courtyard dance floor, hands materialized on his shoulders, immediately digging in right where he held tension.

“Now it’s really over,” Triss whispered in his ear.

“Oh? Will you take that nap now?” Eskel shot her a grin over his shoulder as he covered one of her hands with his.

She smiled at him as if he’d said something adorably cute and inaccurate, “I’ll take a dance ?”

Standing up and spinning Triss once before pulling her close to his side, Eskel sighed, “I guess I’ll have to settle for that then.”

Giggling a tad bit deliriously, they made their way onto the dance floor and snuck into a space between the other couples. Eskel did his best to relax and stay in the moment. He took deep breaths and mentally listed little observations about his surroundings, most of which revolved around Triss, and he even tried to distract himself by making some rather suggestive advances, but no matter what he tried, he was still thinking about what she deserved and how it was everything he wasn’t.

Triss rested her hand on his cheek and gave him her trademarked wide-eyed worried look, “Are you alright? Is your knee acting up?”

“M’fine,” he lied, “Just the champagne.”

“Bullshit.”

He should have known she’d call him on it, even in the middle of a wedding she wouldn’t let him get away with anything. Just another reason he wasn’t good enough for her.

Glancing around nervously, Eskel whispered in her ear, “Can we do this later?”

“Absolutely not. You’ve been acting strange for weeks now and it’s making me crazy,” Triss tapped on the point of his chin firmly, calling his attention back to her as they swayed and stepped in a small circle like everyone else.

“Been making me crazy too…” he mumbled, only receiving a furious glare that urged him to continue, “You’re… Triss you’re perfect. I love you more than anything and anyone I’ve ever loved before…”

Tears welled in her eyes as Triss brought them to a standstill, gripping his arms for dear life, “But?”

Eskel couldn’t help tucking her long thin braids behind her ear and caressing her cheek, “But I don’t know why you’re with me. Every time this wedding gets brought up I think about how you deserve someone so much more… whole than I am. Someone who can give you what you want and who doesn’t have a horribly dangerous job and doesn’t look like the Pillsbury doughboy…”

“First off,” Triss started, almost growling as she dragged him off the dance floor and in through the back door to the kitchen, “I thought you were breaking up with me so please lead with what you’re nervous about next time,” Eskel followed, absolutely dumbfounded as he was sat down on a stool like he was in trouble with the principal, “Second, I find your extra weight sexy as hell- no arguments! That is my opinion and it is final . Third- and this one is important- you are the most thoughtful, caring, kind, and gentle person I have ever had the absolute pleasure to share a room with, let alone sleep with. I decided you’re what I wanted a long time ago. No one else has ever told me to take a nap before” she giggled, pausing to hold his face between her hands, “You don’t need to be anything other than you for me to be happy.”

She wiped a tear from his cheek with her knuckles, a fond smile playing on her lips as she drew him in, hugging him tightly so his head rested on her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed like he was scared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Triss whispered back, trailing her nails over his scalp and through his soft hair, “Anytime you need a reminder you tell me. Deal?”

Eskel sniffed and pulled himself back together, leaning back to give Triss a quick kiss, “Deal.”

[agent-cupcake]

Can I ask your opinion? So, I feel like everyone into 3H is in love with Dimitri, but I can't connect with him. I don't dislike him, but I feel like there isn't much to his personality without all his various mental health issues. It's hard to get a feel on what he's really like, so I end up just seeing him as a walking ball of trauma and not a three-dimensional character. Do you have any thoughts on Dimitri himself and how to separate him as a person from his psychological issues? Thanks!

Hmm, I guess my first thought is that everyone resonates with characters differently and so if you don’t particularly feel connected to him, that’s not wrong. Fictional parasocial relationships are very similar to real-life relationships, so it follows that nobody is going to like every character. I can’t say that a portion of my love for his character doesn’t come from his mental issues because that’s something I personally relate to and feel drawn to in others. That’s just who I am and how I build relationships. There is also something to be said for the unavoidable way mental illness informs a person’s behavior and character, it’s as much an aspect of them as being born with blond hair or losing an eye.

That said, I will do my best to explain why I think Dimitri is wonderful. Not in spite of his mental illness, but because I don’t think that’s all he is.

So, Dimitri is, as he says, a very clumsy person. This unfortunately extends to his social skills. He has a lot of very socially awkward tendencies and a general lack of self-awareness. This contrasts with his innate desire to please people, or at least avoid upsetting anyone. The thing is, Dimitri doesn’t always completely understand what upsets people or how exactly they might feel. His childhood isolation left him rather emotionally unaware and desperate for the acceptance and approval of others. That’s not to say he doesn’t try to understand other people’s feelings, but it’s not an intuitive process. He has a habit of saying kind of dumb or uncomfortable things out of nowhere, which is most likely his real feelings coming out in rather inept ways. He means well, but he’s just so dang clumsy.

The desperation to be included and validated I mentioned, I think, can be seen in the way he tries so hard to make the other Blue Lions see him as a peer and equal all the while keeping himself rather closed off from them. Dimitri approaches conversations as a means of focusing on the other person, trying to make an appeal to them rather than as an interaction where both parties could be seen as vulnerable. Of course, just like most other socially awkward introverts, he opens up when he feels closer to the person, but that takes a while. Gotta unlock the supports, you know? Although it’s not necessarily obvious, his incredibly stiff behavior (especially pre-timeskip) and the way he switches between overly formal and awkwardly friendly in his interactions with people as he tries to figure out how to socially and emotionally navigate relationships really gives me the impression of someone trying desperately to fit in without even the faintest clue of how to actually manage that. He also does his best to avoid social situations, which, mood. Basically, Dimitri’s a big dumb massive introvert trying to act like he’s not.

FURTHERMORE, he is a dork. An absolute goof of a person. Dimitri canonically thinks so-bad-its-good puns and jokes are hilarious. His own style of telling jokes is saying things that may or may not have contextual humor in a normal voice and then claiming after the fact that he intended it as such. Now, his supports with Alois are absolute factual proof of the so-bad-its-good humor, but might I also direct your attention to the scene before the battle against Miklan in Conand Tower (the event name is “Tower in a Storm (Blue Lions)”). Basically, Gilbert is explaining the history behind Conand Tower and Dimitri says, in an incredibly earnest voice, “You’re very well informed, Gilbert. Please, tell us more.” This is a joke. Supposed to be, at least. The delivery is somewhat emphasized, but not in a recognizably sarcastic way. Gilbert, who knew Dimitri very well when he was young, realizes it’s a joke after a second. But there are other things Dimitri says that I believe are his bad “jokes” and since nobody knows him well enough to tell, they don’t call him on it. There’s no proof, but his line in the Lord’s intro where he says, “And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.” to Claude has to be an attempt at sarcasm. Dimitri is oblivious, but not stupid. In his Goddess Tower conversation with Byleth, when discussing the topic of wishes, he says, “Perhaps it would make more sense for me to wish that we’ll be together forever. What do you think?” In a completely normal voice. Following are two speech bubbles of “...” before he laughs and proclaims that it’s just a joke and that he’s getting better at telling them. Now, this is a two-parter because I see this as both his horribly awkward tendency to say things he feels without thinking too hard beforehand as well as his silly deadpan style of “jokes”. Granted, he does apologize. Dimitri’s got socially awkward zoomer humor. It’s endearing.

Here is a video of Dimitri hitting on Byleth pre-timeskip. I’m not sure how far it goes to endear someone to him, but the mostly awkward and occasionally smooth attempts of Dimitri’s flirtations are absolutely a highlight of his character. 

Now, this isn’t quite as cute as all that, but I think character arc and change do a lot for making a character feel more three-dimensional. Dimitri is hypocritically selfish. Although those are both negative terms, I don’t necessarily mean them as such, at least not in their totality. Both are things to overcome, which he does. And that’s why I feel like they’re a valid point of discussion when trying to explain the allure of his character.

The hypocritical part comes from the way he easily allows and forgives the flaws of others while constantly castigating himself for the same reasons. He says things that show an absurd amount of a lack of self-awareness. For example, he tells Edelgard, “Hm. You will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on.” All the while straight-up lying to and emotionally avoiding his friends. Dimitri also tells Marianne, when she is punishing herself for putting other people at risk, “What matters is that they came back safely in the end. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.” Really, his C and B with Marianne is an exercise in hypocrisy. The standards Dimitri has for himself are incredibly, unattainably high. He’s setting himself up for failure in that way and, to an extent, knows what he’s doing because he knows that those same standards are too much for his friends and allies to meet. He wishes to take on everything himself. But, what I find so beautiful about this, is that Dimitri eventually realizes that he can’t do that. He is not strong enough to take on the weight of the world on himself, he comes to understand that it’s something he must allow himself to share with the people who care about him. He comes to realize that, as difficult as it is to accept, he is a weak person. Despite all of his introversion and inability to emotionally open up, he figures out that having a support system and allowing yourself to rely on people who love you is a necessity. Personally, I think this message is incredibly important in real life. Watching Dimitri come to that conclusion and argue it’s importance really rounded out his arc and journey as a person. Now, the relatability of this conclusion will differ, but I don’t think it has to do with his mental illness as much as it is a fundamental aspect of growth.

The selfishness is basically outlined above. Dimitri is selfish about his pain and secrets, purposefully and selfishly driving people away because he wants to keep the burden to himself. His vice is guilt and he indulges in the pain of it like an addiction. Hatred, too, is a drug. He thinks he needs it to keep going, even though all it does is bring agony to himself and others around him. Learning to accept and let go of these feelings is, again, something I think is important and a character arc that I really love, especially when you see him suffer as much as he does. Now, the execution of this is lacking, I admit. But that’s an issue for another time I think.

I am not quite sure if I did much to change your opinion, but this is all I can think of for now. There is probably a lot more than I’ve left out because I think about Dimitri far too much to be healthy. So, I’ll leave you off with some honorable mention aspects of his character that I think are super fun:

Pre-timeskip Dimitri has his hair tucked behind his ear. He can lift a wagon by himself. In the DLC, when faced with an impossible-to-open gate, it was not muscle man Balthus who said he couldn’t open it, but twinkish teen Dimitri. He’s not really smooth with one-liners. Like, at all. Notably, when attacking Manuela post-timeskip, he says, “Perhaps I should have appeared before you holding a bouquet of flowers, rather than the weapon that will end your life.” Adding to this, at one point, Dimitri fucked up a pick-up line so badly the girl came after him. Areadbhar has a mitten on it in the Azure Moon final picture. He breaks everything. His Crest activation ability even supports this, using twice the durability of any given Combat Art. One of his post-timeskip counselor messages is, “I lived in the slums for a long time, and I saw how the people there suffered from poverty and the ravages of war. There must be something I can do to save them." His room in the academy is right next to Sylvain’s, meaning that for almost an entire year Dimitri was a single wall away from hearing whatever nonsense Sylvain was getting up to. Dimitri is the only Lord that takes the throne and doesn’t abandon his people in some form or another.

And, finally, he is pretty sexy. And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

[skylarmoon71]

Tadashi Oneshot (Big Hiro 6)

"(Y/N) do you wanna come with us to the cafe, Hiro is celebrating our newest rescue." Honey Lemon's offer was tempting, but you denied.

"It's okay, you guys have fun. I got midterms next week. Gonna try and shove as much information into my brain."

"Hah, if you were a genius you wouldn't have to." Hiro taunts. You just grab him into a headlock, and now he's struggling. He's at an obvious disadvantage with the height difference. "I don't need to be a genius to beat you up short stuff."

When he finally gets free he's fixing his hair with a little growl. 

"Just wait until I get taller!" He hollers. You laugh, and he's running off with Fred and Baymax. Wasabi and Gogo are close behind lecturing them about crossing the street recklessly. Honey Lemon is just beaming as she follows. Tadashi is the one who stops to look your way. The moment his brown eyes meet yours you look away, turning your back and heading in the opposite direction.

"Is that really the reason, or are you just trying to avoid me." You tense, stopping in your tracks. You just clench the bag by its straps.

"I don't know what you mean." It's said so coldly, and you just continue walking, not looking back or even hearing him out. When you're at a reasonable distance you can finally breathe better. It's then that you chance a look back, and Tadashi is still standing there with a solemn look on his face. There's obvious guilt, and you don't pay it much mind turning the corner.

You were a part of their friend group. No, you weren't a genius or even a hero like the rest of them. You were just a friend. You thought it was awesome, not many people could say they were friends with Sanfransokyo's superhero squad. You were just an average teen, enjoying college life. Trying to at least.

After the fire at the University, everything changed. The man behind the crime was caught and locked up, and no one was hurt. Tadashi wasn't hurt. Even though that was the case, you were angry at him. When he stormed into the building it exploded, everyone assumed he was gone, but luckily he'd gotten trapped in a backroom that was built to handle high temperatures. You'd never forget that day.

The fire department stormed the building and recovered his body that was thankfully unharmed. All he'd received was a small burn on his right arm. But for you, it left a lot more than a battle scar. Tadashi had been your friend for years, even when you were kids he was always considered the level headed one. He had to be with his parents gone, and you knew he needed to be the example for his younger brother. You were two years younger than Tadashi. It could have been the fact that he was older that you always admired him. But as you started to grow, that admiration turned into a crush, and that crush formed love. You were in love with him, probably long before you even fully understood what the word meant.

So that day when he rushed into a flaming building, you were just a couple feet outside, and the moment the explosion went off, you felt like your heart had been ripped right out of your chest. You couldn't speak, move, breathe..

Discovering that he was not only alive but fairly unharmed, it was easily the best news you got that day. But since that day, you've never been able to look him in the eyes. Whenever you saw him that dreadful feeling returned, it was like you were being suffocated. Rather than confront those negative feelings, you were trying to avoid it, except Tadashi wasn't an idiot.

Three months passed, of course he would notice. You made sure to never be alone with him. As a group, you could manage, and luckily no one else picked up on your distance. For now, you needed time to sort through your feelings. If you could get over how much you felt for him, maybe you could return to being friends.

"I promise I'll always be there (Y/N). We're best friends after all." A childish promise when you were young. It was ridiculous to cling onto something like that.

~~~~

"Food." Your stomach had been grumbling for the last half hour, and you were so in tune to the tv show that you were ignoring it. The buzzing of your phone made your eyes shift. It was a text from Hiro.

"Can you stop by, I wanna show you my newest upgrade to Baymax. " 

You were about to respond but another message popped up.

"Don't forget the gummies." you giggled responding and tucking the device into your pocket. Now you really needed to get food.

It took about fifteen minutes to get there. You stepped out of our car, tucking the pack of gummies under your arm as you tried to balance your own meal. Locking your car, you headed into the building, stopping when you got to Tadashi's door. You opened it. 

"Hey Hiro you better pay me back for the gummies cause I nearly dropped my chicken for your stupid-" your words stop mid way. Tadashi is standing in the room, having turned when he heard your voice. You placed your food and Hiro's on the table, swallowing. 

"S-Sorry I..Hiro said he wanted to show me something so I just dropped by, but I can come back later." you don't want to be in here alone with him, you can't.

"(Y/N)." you're still facing him, and it's hard to not look at him.

"I guess it's harder for you to look at me now. Some of the girls have said this scar is cool, but most people aren't as impressed." Your brows knit at his words. He's trying to play it off as a joke, but there's a sadness that reaches his usually bright chocolate orbs.

"You..you really think it's because of a stupid scar." You're angry now, furious. Was his opinion that low of you that you'd shun him for a wound he got trying to help someone.

"BASTARD!!" Tadashi's is completely thrown by your words, and he can see it now, the sheer anger. "Stupid stupid stupid!!" your screaming, and Tadashi takes a step forward, not prepared at all for your outburst. When he gets closer he can see the tears, and it hurts him to see you so torn.

"Why are you-"

"YOU'RE SO SELFISH WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT!!!" He reaches out to touch you, maybe try and calm you down but you shove him back. "You could have died and you just left me. Y-You didn't even care about Hiro..What would he have done, you're his only brother. Y-You just ran into the fire like you were some type of bullet proof vest! You didn't care!!! You don't care one bit about anything!! I hate you! I HATE YOU!!!"

Now it was starting to make sense. How could he not realize before. You were scared.

Terrified was more like it.

"(Y/N)..." He should have been more understanding of your feelings. Even Hiro was pissed with him when it all happened. It wasn't like he planned for that. It was somewhat of a reflex, he couldn't help it. "I hate you.." you mumble, dropping to your knees, Tadashi went down with you, pulling you into his arms. This entire misunderstanding was solely your fear of losing him. He should have put it together sooner. 

You'd known each other forever. Making such a decision without considering the residual effect it would have not just on his family but also his friends. At the end everyone was far more happy that he survived, but it could have just as easily turned bad.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N). I should have done things differently." helping people had always been something he wanted to do. It's a bit impossible to help if you're not there though. Risking his life like that, it was reckless. In a way he acted the same he'd constantly told his brother not to. Impulsive. The sincerity in his eyes, you could see it. This was the first time in a while that you'd been able to really look at him. He gave a small smile, and you returned it. 

"S-Sorry I called you a bastard." Tadashi laughed, wiping at your cheeks.

"I think I deserved it. So no harm done."

Now that you were no longer high on the adrenaline of the situation, you felt a bit vulnerable. Tadashi was so close. "You know..I've been thinking about a lot of things since then. These past few months I've come to realize that you aren't just a friend (Y/N). At least..not to me." you held his gaze, unsure of what response was right. His knuckles brushed the last of your tears away, and you pulled in a breath at the way his eyelids lowered. He bit his lower lip, and you could see he was evaluating something.

"Tadash-"

"Shhh..just let me..I just need to.." he didn't finish his statement, just leaned in. His kiss was so sweet, tender. Just like him. He didn't put too much pressure, or hold you down. They way he held you left so much room for you to move away if you really needed to. That's the last thing you were thinking though. You leaned in, hands gripping the front of his cardigan, tugging him forward. He took the initiative, slipping a hand into your hair as he continued to kiss you. The sound of a camera clicking is what made you pull apart. You both separated, and Hiro was standing behind the wall with his phone. He smirked. "Took you guys long enough. I hope you brought a lot of gummies, I should be given a medal honestly. " Tadashi glared, and it dawned on you that he must have set this whole thing up.

"When I get my hands on you!!" Hiro was running out the door laughing, and you could tell Tadashi wanted to go after him, but you took his arm, and he halted.

"I..I love you Tadashi. I always have." It took so many years to finally admit it, but when he smiled, and raised you off the floor, wrapping his hand around your waist, you could have melted on the spot.

"I love you too (Y/N). So much.'' you grinned, pulling him in for another kiss which he returned happily.