#NORMAL-looking guys? like genuinely??? has been really eye-opening and good for me I think.

[rig-a-rendal]

Mike: /has hairy noodle arms/

The fans: Hell yeah 💙

Peter: /has hairless muscular arms/

The fans: Hell yeah 🧡

To Monkees fans; all arms are important arms

PREACH !

[lovecla]

TEACH ME (HOW TO MAKE HIM COME) | jack hughes.

nhl masterlist, nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, chapter two:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: smut (f. fingering, dirty talk).

➴ word count: 3k

💌 from me to you: listen… if you already read any of my works you know that i don’t know how to write smut. i just wanted to write something for kinktober but turns out this is much harder for me than expected lmfao i hope u guys still like me and forgive me for all my sins.

𖧷

YOU TOOK a deep breath before knocking on Jack’s door.

It has now been a week since you asked Jack to be your “sex teacher”, and today would be your first “lesson”— if you could even call this a lesson.

Jack opened the door after a few minutes, smiling like he had just won the Stanley Cup, wearing a backwards hat, a plain, black t-shirt and pants.

Now that you’re really looking at him, Jack is fine. Like, really, really handsome. You get the Hughes brothers appeal now.

“Hey, pretty,” he greets you, nodding with his head and letting you in. “Right on time. Someone’s eager.”

You blush, dropping your things on his couch. “Well, what can I do?”

Jack closes the door behind him and leans against it.

“Are you excited?” He asks, looking genuinely interested in your answer.

“I don’t know if excited is the exact word,” you hum. “I’m really nervous. And anxious too. I barely slept tonight.”

He chuckles, walking towards you and stopping in front of you, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to be nervous, baby. Sex isn’t a seven headed monster. It just has one head, maybe two if it’s a really good day.”

You give him a slap on the chest seconds after you get what he meant, hearing his loud laugh.

“You’re being mean.” You mumble, already embarrassed. “What… What are you teaching me today?”

He stops laughing and clicks his tongue.

“Today, you’ll learn how to get yourself off.”

You almost lose all of your senses.

“What? Me?” You yell, confused. “I thought— I thought this was about learning how to make a guy… Well. You know!”

“Before learning how to please others, you’ll have to learn how to please yourself,” he answers, looking dead serious. “I’m not gonna teach you how to make a guy come if I know you won’t be enjoying it.”

“Y-you don’t know that,” you stutter. “Zack probably knows how to get a girl off.”

Jack smirks, but doesn’t say anything. His cockiness made you want to punch him sometimes.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” He asks the question staring deeply into your soul and you are one hundred percent sure that you won’t make it through this evening.

“Jack!” You shout again, looking everywhere but his face.

He sighs, and before you can even think about doing anything, he gently grabs your chin, forcing you to look at his sapphire eyes.

“Listen, pretty,” he starts, his voice soft and gentle. “Having sex is normal and so is touching yourself. If you’re not comfortable with me touching you, you just have to say it, but I really think that, for this to work, you’ll have to trust me.”

You stop looking at him, only to have his finger pressing your chin again. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do, I really do. It’s just that— this is weird to me. I want to have s-sex but what if… what if I’m terrible at it and what if I’m, I don’t know, boring?”

“That won’t happen, baby. And even if it does, who cares?” He licks his lips. “I’m here to help you. So just relax, okay?”

You bite your bottom lip before nodding once. Jack’s face lightens up and he smiles brightly at you.

“Good girl.”

𖧷

“THE KEY to knowing how to make yourself feel good, is exploring. Trying to get to know what you like and what you don’t like.”

You were sitting on Jack’s bed, your legs crossed and your hands resting on your lap. Jack was standing in front of you, looking you in the eye.

“Some girls like it when things are rough, when the touch hurts,” he explains, running his fingers down your neck, moving into your shoulder and arms, his touch making you shiver slightly. “Some girls like it when it’s gentle and slow. It’s up to you to find out what you like, mhm?”

You nod with your head, because speaking would just be too much trouble. Maybe you were too touch starved, because just the pressure of Jack’s fingers against your skin made you feel things you have never felt before.

He moved on to your mouth, tracing the line of your lips before parting them slightly with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you, baby?”

“K-kiss me?” You choke on your own saliva. “Why do you want to kiss me? That makes no sense and—” he stares at you with funny eyes. Right. “Okay. Trust you. Okay, fine.”

He grins but doesn’t say anything else and honestly, you’re thankful for it. His silence makes it a whole less awkward and embarrassing. Kissing your friend of years it’s already strange as it is.

Or at least that’s what you thought kissing Jack would feel like, before you felt his lips on yours. His right hand held your chin up, tilting your head just the slightest bit to the side so he could angle his mouth with yours just fine.

His tongue caressed yours with determination, Jack kissed like he knew what he wanted, and you guess he probably does. It wasn’t like any of the other boys you managed to kiss, no. Jack kissed with a purpose, and that purpose was driving you crazy.

He gently pushed your body back, making you lay completely on his bed, your back touching his soft covers. The weight of his body on top of yours definitely did something to you, even if you couldn’t explain what.

He pulls back after your lips are swollen, and even so, you catch yourself pushing further for more, frowning when he shakes his head no.

“I’m gonna touch you now, okay?” He asks, and you nod your head, eagerly, making him chuckle. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you breathe, feeling weird.

He blinks once before gluing his lips to yours again, this time not even asking for permission before touching your tongue with his, his hands moving immediately around your body. Touching your neck, shoulders and hips before moving back to your chest.

You were glad you had chosen not to wear a bra, since now Jack’s access to your boobs was easier. He put his hands inside of your tank top, squeezing your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, and you think a million things at once, most of them synonyms for the word “good”. “Sarah?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, closing your eyes when he pulls your nipple and squeezes it, hard. “It does.”

“For you to feel good, you have to set the mood, y’know what I mean?” He sounds like a goddamn teacher and you want to kiss him again. “What’s the fun in getting off if you won’t play with the rest of your body?”

You feel your face burn, because that’s exactly what you thought getting off was: just laying in bed and touching yourself down there, and nothing else.

You jump slightly when you feel something wet around your left nipple, only after realizing it was his mouth. Is this a thing? Do guys do this all the time? And why does it feel so fucking good—

Your first moan comes off as a surprise to you and Jack; you can tell by the way he presses his fingers on your waist harder, the sound making you feel embarrassed for a second.

He moves onto the next, doing the same thing he just did to the other, and you remove his hat just to run your hands through his silky, now short hair.

His hand, the one that had been resting on your hips this entire time, goes to your right thigh, squeezing it hard. He lets go of you, and gets up, leaving you alone in his bed.

“Let’s get you naked, hm?”

Nodding, you get up to a sitting position, holding the hem of your shirt before his hand stops you. He holds your hand before moving you out of the bed, making you stand in front of him. His eyes are asking for permission again and once you give it to him, he starts by unbuttoning your jeans and helping you get out of them, leaving you with your lacy panties and your tank top.

And to your absolute horror, you only then realized that you were wet; your panties were glued to your pussy, and you could feel the sticky liquid coming out of you.

Jack doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moves on with his task of getting you naked, removing your white top and staring shamelessly at your tits.

“Stop looking at them,” you murmur, hiding your boobs with your hands.

He cocks his head to the side. “Why should I? They’re pretty, just like you.”

“It’s embarassing.” You reply, looking at your feet.

“No, it isn’t, baby,” he snickers, placing his hands on top of yours and removing them from your tits. Then, he pointed at the bed with his head, silently asking for you to lay there again, which you promptly did. You were anxious and excited for what was coming. Besides, it was getting hard to ignore the wetness between your legs.

You laid with your back on the mattress and your head on his pillow, watching as he did the same, laying sideways, with his hand supporting his head. Even if the only light illuminating the room is coming from his bedside lamps, you could tell that his blue eyes were dark, full of something that you couldn’t name, but that was starting to make sense to you.

Because you were sure that if you looked in the mirror, you’d see the same thing reflected in yours.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispers, and you can’t help but whimper as you feel his fingers tracing imaginary drawings on your body; your neck, your shoulders, your chest, your tummy, your—

You hold your breath as he toys with the bow in front of panties, squeezing your thighs together as soon as he moves a little bit down.

“Sarah,” he calls beside you, and the only thing you can do is look at him and wait for him to continue. “Open your legs for me, baby.”

“N-no.”

He frowns, confused. “No?”

“‘M wet,” you whisper, feeling the reddeness take over your cheeks.

Jack chuckles, resuming playing with your underwear.

“That’s the goal, baby. It means that we’re doing great work.”

You’re doing great work, you want to tell him, but you choose to stay quiet, the situation already embarrassing enough as it is.

Slowly, you reopen your legs, separating your thighs until your left one touches Jack’s stomach. He hums as he removes your underwear, the cold breeze hitting your pussy and making you shiver.

His fingers slowly find their way back to your core, and when Jack touches your clit, you can finally release the moan you didn’t even know you had been holding this entire time. His finger’s cold, and as he gently rubs your sensitive nub, you start to wonder why it has never felt this good for you before.

Of course, you’ve felt aroused before, especially when you were a teenager. But never enough to actually do something about it— the few times you tried to make yourself come, you’d always stop midway and feel guilty for the next three hours, even if getting off wasn’t anything shameful.

But this? Feeling Jack’s breaths near your neck, his left hand holding your legs open while his right one spreads the slick coming out of you on your folds and clit, the rub that was once gentle, now stong and precise.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he murmurs, kissing you on the lips again. As he tongue fights for space inside your mouth, you can feel his index finger circling your clenching hole. “You can either put a finger inside or just rub here,” he explains, touching your clit again, making you remember why you were laying naked on his bed in the first place. Right, you tell yourself, we’re here for Zack, and for Zack only. “Just do what feels good for you.”

You can feel your walls tightening around his finger as he tries to put it inside you and you bite your lips, holding back a whimper.

“You need to relax, baby, otherwise this will hurt,” he says, soft voice reaching your ears like honey. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head fast. “No, please,”

You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he mumbles a soft “okay”, as you try your hardest to relax. He dips his finger inside of you, while his thumb works fast on the aching button, the wet sound of his fingers on your pussy making you cringe momentarily.

It was different, having something inside you, but a good type of different. And knowing that Jack is the one making you feel this fucking good? Definitely helps a lot.

“I wanna hear you, baby, come on,” he asks, his lips touching your cheek with how close he is. “Make those pretty sounds for me again. Can you do that?”

“Mhm,” you let out a series of sounds, trying not to think so hard. If Jack wanted you to moan for him, you would. “Jack.”

“Does it feel good, pretty?” He smirks, moving his fingers faster, his grip on your tight strong enough to bruise your skin. “Does your little, tight pussy feel good around my fingers? Good enough to make you come for me?”

His dirty, crude words made the red on your face deepen, but at this point, with his finger shoved deep inside of you and his tireless rubbing on your swollen clit, you didn’t care much.

The only thing in your head was the need to release yourself in his hands.

“Answer me, or I’ll stop,” he orders and you roll your eyes, holding his neck with your arms, gluing your chest to his clothed body, his finger reaching deeper inside you with the new angle. “Sarah—”

“It d-does,” you stutter, breathing in his perfume. God, he smells so fucking good. “It feels so good, Jack, I don’t want you to stop, I—”

“Are you going to come, baby?”

“Dunno,” mumbling, you grab his hair, pulling it. “I want to.”

“Then come on, baby. I’ll talk you through it,” he whispers in your ear, biting your lobe right after.

“No,” you moan. “That’s… embarrassing.”

He chuckles, pressing his thumb against your clit, making you arch your back with how sensitive you were. “What’s so embarrassing about me talking you through? Telling you how good your pussy feels around my finger? How hot and wet you are, taking me so well and deep too.”

“Jack—”

“Have you wondered about how my dick’s going to feel inside you?” He licks your cheek before kissing it gently. “How deep I’ll be. How I’ll make you beg and cry for my cock, so I can wreck your pussy and have you moaning for me. And you’ll wet my sheets, just like you’re doing right now, won’t you, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes,”

“And it’ll feel so good, right, pretty? You’ll let me hear those pretty sounds of yours while I teach you how to take a cock, hm?”

Still with your nose buried in his chest, your body moving forward with each of his thrusts, you shake your head. “No— teach me how to take y-your cock, Jack.”

Why the hell did you just say that, somewhere, someone, inside your mind asks you, what about Zack?

What about him?

Jack’s chuckle brings you back for a moment. “‘Course, pretty. Teach you how to take my cock.”

Satisfied, you hold him closer, closing your legs together, the tension inside of you growing with each thrust. You weren’t sure of what was going to happen, but it felt so fucking good.

“Jack— I’m gonna.”

His fingers only manage to go faster, reach deeper.

“Come for me, baby,”

Even if this is— officially— your first time coming, you still don’t understand how your body just responded to Jack so well, and how you literally came on command— something inside you made you think that this doesn’t happen often.

But there was just something about him teaching you how to make yourself this wet, how he left your pussy sore and clenching around nothing, how his blue eyes never left yours and how his blondish, damp hair is sticking to his forehead, making he look ten times hotter than he already normally does.

How haven’t we ever noticed he’s this fine?

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling tiredly and laying on his chest.

He smiles back. “Hi, pretty.”

“This was… definitely something.”

“How do you rate your class from zero to ten?” He joked and you laugh quietly.

“A ten,” you mumble. “An eleven if you let me stay the night.”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave anyway but if telling you yes will make my score go higher then yes, please, you can spend the night here,” he kisses your lips briefly, before pulling back, a somewhat worried expression decorating his beautiful, angelic face. “Does Z know where you are?”

“Told him I’d sleep at my friend’s house,” you say, not feeling even the slightest bit bad for lying to Trevor. I mean, you had just come on Jack Hughes’ fingers after he got you off and sucked your tits. Trevor can go to hell for all you care.

“Mhm,” Jack hums, getting up suddenly and taking you with him. “Let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll go to sleep.”

You wanted to protest but he was right, you both had to clean yourselves up. And showering with him didn’t sound so bad.

At all.

Phase two of getting Zack to like you: complete.

[i-care-4u]

BEST FRIEND(S) | J.FÉLIX

PAIR: JOÃO FÉLIX X FEM!READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

joão was out with floki at the dog park. floki seems excited to see this place and wagged his tail as joão approached the park with him.

as they entered the park, joão opened his bag to reveal the squeaky chew toy that floki loves. he squeezed the toy and lifts it up to where floki can’t reach it. “come on, floki. over here,” joão said as he continued to squeeze the toy.

as floki enjoyed squeezing his toy, a dog comes and growls at him. at this point, they started arguing on who should get the toy. the dog was a tad bit larger than floki, as it was a beagle.

“pierre, no!” a voice called out.

that’s when you walked up to your dog and carried him away from the dachshund.

“what did i say about taking other dog’s toys?” you looked at pierre.

joão smiled back, waving it off. "bo worries at all. floki can handle himself," he replied, nodding towards his dachshund, who was proudly prancing around with his toy.

you laughed softly, setting pierre down gently. "i guess they both have a lot of energy today." pierre, now back on the ground, looked up at you with wide eyes, as if asking for permission to rejoin the fun.

joão let out a loud chuckle and watched as floki, clearly triumphant, ran off with his toy. floki has always been a fun-loving person. continuing, he observed his dachshund running around the park and said, "i think he likes the challenge." pierre forgot his prior scowl and stared between you and the toy, eagerly swinging his tail. you gave the beagle a forlorn smile and shook your head while rubbing his ears. "I swear, pierre thinks he owns every toy. i apologize to other dog owners all the time," you said, grinning at joão.

joão laughed and shook his head. "everything is good. i mean, dogs are dogs, right?"

there was a moment of silence as you two stood side by side, watching your dogs play. the soft sound of rustling leaves drifted in on the autumn breeze, and for a moment the busy world outside the park seemed to slow down. "so, how often do you visit here?" joão asked a casual but probing question to break the ice.

you gave a nod. "as soon as i can. even when work becomes hectic, i make an effort to bring pierre here on any free day." you grinned down at your beagle, who was already sniffing curiously and had likely forgotten about the earlier toy quarrel. "he needs it," you murmured. joão noticed floki continuing to jump with delight. "it's nice to be outside. it gives them plenty of space to move around."

you returned his look with a smile. "yes, sometimes it's the best part of my day."

the dogs continued to play, their previous anxiety replaced by playful barking and wagging. the scenario was peaceful, with the dogs engaged in their world and you and joão sharing a simple moment together.

you observed joão with interest as the dogs roamed the park. "so, what do you do for a living?" you asked, obviously fascinated. joão paused for a moment, watching floki chase pierre before returning to you. "i'm a footballer," he said with a careless shrug, as if it was no big deal. your eyes widened slightly. "oh, really? that's cool. what team do you play for?"

"the portugal national team."

you blinked, taken aback. "wow, that's amazing!" you tried to suppress your excitement, but it was impossible to conceal your surprise. "i had no idea." joão laughed softly and touched the back of his neck. "yeah, i try to keep things lowkey when I'm not on the pitch. i'm just a normal guy when i'm with floki." you smiled, loving how down-to-earth he seemed despite his occupation. "you're doing an excellent job with it. i would not have guessed."

joão chuckled and looked at you. "thanks. how about you? what do you do?" you paused for a moment before smiling. "i'm in [career]. nothing as exciting as football, but it keeps me entertained. "[career], huh? that sounds interesting in its own right," he said, genuinely intrigued. you shrugged. "it is, but i don't get to spend time with dogs as part of my job," you said, laughing. joão's chuckle was warm and infectious. "well, if you ever need a break, floki and i are always up for some company at the park."

you smiled at his remarks, sensing a connection between the two of you. "i may take you up on your offer. pierre could certainly benefit from more playdates," you observed, glancing down at your beagle, who was now racing circles with floki.

"well, if you ever need to disconnect again, maybe we could bring the dogs out together sometime?" you proposed, shocked by your own bravery. joão smiled broadly, with a cheeky glitter in his eyes. "i would enjoy that. floki, too, i'm confident." he looked over at his dachshund, who was now rolling on his back on the grass, clearly content. you swapped numbers, and the experience felt very normal. as João saved your contact, there was a shared smile that hinted at something more, but nothing felt rushed or forced. it felt very natural, like two people crossing paths at the right time. "alright, i'll let you know the next time floki needs a good run," joão said, returning his phone to his pocket. "sounds good," you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement but maintaining calm. "pierre and i will be ready."

with a final wave, joão called floki, who unwillingly approached pierre, as if offering a rematch. you couldn't help but smile as they went, floki bouncing along with them. you felt lighter when you and pierre got home. meeting joão was unexpected but may lead to anything more—whether it was friendship or something more, only time will tell. in either case, the contact left you feeling relaxed and energized for a long time after you left the park.

[sofiareidings]

Coffee Runs

Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.

A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty

Word Count: 0.8k

Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift

It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.

There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.

But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.

Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.

He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.

You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.

"Guy with the sweater vest!"

"Guy in the purple!"

"Guy with the scarf!"

You get the point.

He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.

***

The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.

"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.

"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.

A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"

He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"

Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"

He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"

"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.

"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.

"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.

"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"

Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.

"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."

"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.

That's when you realised.

"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.

God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 8

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Wasn't going to double post today but I'm feeling generous with it being Valentines Day. Sadly nothing super romantic about this one, but I promise some really good stuff is coming soon! I also have a few more one shots, but my requests are open if you have any more you guys want to send through! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The rotunda is empty as Imogen and I enter. Everyone in the dining hall eating. The feeling of being alone should unsettle me given recent circumstances, but after today I feel like that’s behind us.

Usually I would feel her eyes on me, but as she approached me in the hall I had no idea. Though I had been a little distracted at the lack of Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi at dinner.

She leads me over to the edge of the rotunda, and sits on the ledge, leaning up against one of the pillars. I copy her on the opposite side. For a few moments we sit in silence, looking out over the trees and mountains. It’s beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I occasionally see dragons flying around. I wonder if one of them will be mine come threshing.

“I’d say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted towards you and what I did today. But I’m won’t. It’s just my weird way of processing this I guess.” She finally says, still looking out over the trees. “But, I can’t assure you it won’t happen again.”

I slowly nod my head. “Thanks, I guess.”

She looks over at me as if confused by my response.

“Not going to lie I was expecting a different response out of you regarding this. Also kind of surprised Garrick isn’t attached to your hip after what I did.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah well I kinda ran off after he told me he had feelings for me and I haven’t seen him since.”

She narrows her eyes at me and the look she gives me is like she thinks I’m crazy. Which honestly, I definitely am.

“You ran off?” She emphasises each words.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the pillar and sigh. I was such an idiot. “I ran off. Like an idiot. And now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Well if it’s any help, I don’t think you haven’t seen him because of what happened. With Bodhi and Xaden also both gone, and from what I could see their dragons to, I think something’s come up.”

I nod. She’s right. In the last few weeks it had become almost normal for the boys to disappear some nights without much warning. But it still felt like it had to do with me. Maybe they went out to help Garrick clear his head. But if that was the case I’m sure either Xaden or Bodhi would have come to see how I was.

“I’m sure Garrick has told you are history and why I’ve been the way I’ve been?” She finally says after a few minutes of me swimming in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, only took me weeks of asking and then snapping at him in the healers quadrant before.” I tell her, earning a laugh out of her.

“I knew I’d like you. Even if I hate how much you have Garrick wrapped around your finger, I can see why.” She says with probably one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen on her since I’ve been here. “And honestly I did this to myself. He always said he couldn’t give me more than something casual. That his heart lay elsewhere. He never said who, just that they were part of the rebellion casualties. And then you showed up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. Though was inevitable with everyone thinking I was dead for the last few years. Though I didn’t know Melgren’s plan till the night before conscription day.” I look away from her back out over the valley below us.

I catch the sad look that passes over her face as she studies me. “Don’t be sorry. You being back, as much as its annoyed me in one aspect, has been good the the guys. But can you promise me one thing?” She says as she stands.

I look over at her and nod.

”Don’t fuck it up. He deserves to be happy. And you definitely make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

And with that, she turns and leaves me alone in the Rotunda with my thoughts.

Imogen’s words hang over my head. Don’t fuck it up. Easier said than done. Part of me is over joyed that Garrick shares the same feelings. Though looking back I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner. I just put it down to us being best friends. Yes he wasn’t like that with Xaden, but I was a girl. Of course our friendship would naturally be a little different.

But part of me is also terrified. What if it goes badly? What if it puts a divide in the dynamic of our group. I couldn’t live with myself if I came between Xaden and Garrick. As much as Xaden is extremely loyal to Garrick, Xaden would pick me over him without a question. It would destroy him. But he would do it. And that’s not something I’d want him to do.

So I do the stupid thing and avoid them. Which sadly is quite easy with how little they are around. They’re in our daily battle brief class, wedged up in the back corner. I know cause I feel their eyes on me despite not turning around to see if they are there. But when it comes to challenges, their appearance is few and far between. And if they are there I do my best to blend into the crowd. As best as I can with my hair colour. Though I haven’t dyed it since arriving, and at nearly 2 months in my natural dark hair has started to shown through. Rhiannon and Violet keep telling me to let it grow out as it looks good with the dark red.

But outside of classes, I rarely see them. I get glimpses of them, but most nights they aren’t at dinner. Imogen makes comments about them being sent out for drills and such. Must be part of being a third year. Though I do notice they are gone more often than the other third years.

A few times Garrick tries to catch me after battle brief or find me at challenges, but somehow I manage to get away. I’m not quite ready to have the conversation he wants to have. But I can’t avoid it forever. A few times I nearly cave when I see the pained look in his hazel eyes. Pain I was causing. Pain I’d seen in Xaden and Bodhi’s eyes as well.

Soon our gym time turns into Gauntlet training with presentation day around the corner. So far our squad has done pretty well. Only one casualty so far. One I had to watch Violet almost be apart of. She hid it but I knew how much it killed her on the inside. She was yet to fully complete the gauntlet and today was our last day of training before presentation day tomorrow.

As we walk up the stairs to the gauntlet my heart drops. Not only is Xaden standing off to the side, Garrick is with him. It wasn’t uncommon for leadership to watch their squads do training on the gauntlet, so far neither had turned up for ours. Of course they show up on the last day.

Rhiannon who is next to me must notices something is off and follows my eyes to where Xaden and Garrick are.

“Why do you look so scared to see Xaden and Garrick?” She asks.

I hadn’t quite built the relationship with her that Violet had, but it was getting there. But I hadn’t told her about my interaction with Garrick after the challenge with Imogen.

“Remember how he took me to the healers after my fight with Imogen?” I whisper to her so the others around us don’t hear. The last thing I need is gossip spreading about this while I’m still figuring my own feelings out.

She nods. “Yeah I remember. Practically rushed over and scooped you up in his arms before you could get off the mat. Was quite romantic.” I roll my eyes at her.

Our group comes to a stop in front of the gauntlet, Xaden and Garrick making their way over with Emettiro. Both their eyes locked on mine.

I lean closer to her. “He might have confessed he’s essentially been in love with me for years and years despite me being dead and I kind of panicked and ran off and have been avoiding him ever since. Which also means avoiding my brother.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at me. “Girl I could have told you he was in love with you. No one looks at someone the way he does with out being in love.”

I go to reply but Emettiro calls us to start running the gauntlet. And I’m glad Rhiannon and I end up near the front, being one of the first ones to go. Though I doubt Xaden and Garrick are here to try talk to me, as much as they may want to. At the end of the day, they want the wing to do well.

I step up as Rhiannon takes off, my eyes meeting Garrick’s. His face is a mask and I can’t read it at all. I can tell he’s upset though. He’s never like that with me. I’m one of the few he never puts a mask up for. Xaden on the other hand is intently focused on Violet who is behind me. Before I take off up the gauntlet I offer Garrick a quick smile. For a brief second before I take off, his mask falters and his eyes soften as he gives me a tight lipped smile. The entire way up the I feel his eyes following me. He’s yet to see me climb it. And probably won’t tomorrow as most of the leadership wait up top for their squads and wings to pass the gauntlet.

I reach the top with ease. Yet again Melgren’s training had really prepared me for this. I’d barely had any issues getting up the gauntlet in the first day. And most times I caught up to or passed the person in front of me. As much as I didn’t want to think it. I was grateful for his training over the years. I turn around to look down the gauntlet to see both Garrick and briefly Xaden looking up at me. Both look happy with how easily I made it up. Xaden’s gaze drops to something below me. Violet is yet again stuck on the last parts of the gauntlet. And dare I say, does Xaden looks concerned? His eyes shift up to mine. We both know she needs to find an alternate way up the last part of the gauntlet.

Part 9

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

[pinkandlilacroses]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Angel - Paige bueckers

part 6

• summary {in which an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}

• warnings {angst, it gets cute at the end tho}

averys pov

“avery why cant we tell them” azzi yells, this has been our third fight this week about this topic

“azzi you know why we cant” i say, sternly

“no i dont, thats why im asking”

“azzi, bellas in the other room. shut up” i say

“ok, fuck you” say says, walking out

azzis pov

azzi

- u home

paige

- pls dont come

- stay with avery please

azzi

- im coming

fuck paige has been weird lately, and she wont tell me

its definitely something with bella

i don’t know how bella doesn’t notice

paige is in love with her

“azzi what did i say” paige says, yelling, tears flooding her eyes and the neck of her shirt

“paige whats happening” i say, genuinely concerned for my best friend

she begins wailing. i’ve never seen her cry like this before

i quickly wall up and embrace her

“i fucked it” she says, barley getting her words out

“i want her and ill never be able to make her mine” she continues

“bella?” i question

“yes” she says, raising her voice

“im calling her”

“no, azzi, no, please don’t. please” she says, pleading, her voice growing louder

“paige, you need to talk to her. i’ve never seen you like this before” i say, authoritatively

“she hates me”

azzi is calling bella

“hey bella”

“hey”

“can you come over”

“yeah ill come now”

call ended

“paige this is a good thing, you guys need to talk”

bellas pov

i know this is about paige

id be lying if i said i was fine about this situation

i’m reality, i’ve been crying. everyday. at any given opportunity

i dont have any resentment towards paige, even though i definitely should. i mean, what she did was fucked

and she never explained herself, all she could say is “i cant do it” like what the fuck does that mean

knock, fuck i should leave

knock, i hate her

knock, no i dont

“hey bella” azzi says, bringing me into her embrace. i know azzi and avery are dating, but they cant tell anyone because avery cheated on jake with azzi, and she hates what she did. but she truly does love the girl, cute. i hate love

“paige is in her room”

walking towards paiges room, nerves surprisingly aren’t present. i felt calm, normal

“who is it” paige yells, across the door

“bella” i say, yelling back

paiges pov

“shit shit shit” i say to myself, i look awful. i didn’t think she would actually show up

i’ve been crying for what feels like years, and i finally can get everything off my chest. but i’m more terrified than ever before

she opens the door. fuck

“hey paige” she says softly, i cant bear to look at her. i dont want to see how she has effected me

“paige look at me” she says, sitting down next to me, leaning over. hand on my knee

i look at her

shock plastered on her face

she says nothing, bringing me close and wrapping her arms around me, protectively

“im so sorry” i say into her chest

“paige its ok, im not mad”

“yes you are, i fucked up” i say, tears beginning to form again

she moves so we are face to face, her laying on top of me

“you dont know how bad i want you bella, but i’m, i’m scared” i say, i’ve never been this vulnerable with a girl before. i feel weak

“paige its ok, theres no pressure” she says, reassuringly

“i know you dont feel the same, thats why ive been so down”

“how do you know, paige” she says, sternly. contrasting her previous tone

“it’s obvious” i say. is it?

“no its not, i want you the same amount that you want me” she says, staring intently into my tear filled eyes, that are forming once again

“really” i say, genuinely confused

“yes” she says, slightly laughing

this cant be real, how, what, when, where, why.

after everything i’ve done, she still likes me?

“paige, you there” she says, commenting on my spacing out

“are you sure” i say, coming back to reality

she responds by gently pressing her lips to my own

this kiss was different than any others i’ve experience, its sweet, loving. reflecting of how i feel about her, and i guess how she feels about me.

[yelenasfloppyhand]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open! I was wondering if you could write a Jason Gideon x Reader where Gideon has insecurities and gets jealous easily (because there's an age gap and because the reader is drop dead gorgeous). If you could also add the reader reassuring him and telling him everything the reader feels for him (in the context that all that hadn't been spoken out loud yet) that would be awesome.

If you don't want to write this fanfic then that's totally okay! If you do write it though, please tag me, because I really don't want to miss that!

Have a lovely day! <3

Thank you so so much for the amazing request @leylovestaytay I hope I was able to execute this in the way you wanted it to be.

Jason Gideon × gn!reader

Summary: he's jealous and you aren't sure why, until you confront him about his feelings.

Warnings: none? Age gap mention.

"What was that?" Your normally cheerful tone suddenly shifted, a small scowl now apparent on your usually smiling face. As you and the kind detective were casually joking with one another during the investigation of a case, Gideon suddenly interjected, making a sharp comment that you both should be working rather than 'sitting on your asses and talking.'

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What was what?" he asked in genuine confusion, as if his behavior thirty minutes ago was either normal or hadn't even happened at all. With his arms crossed over his casual t-shirt and blue overshirt, he looked like any other guy. The fact that someone as well known as Jason Gideon dressed so casually was impressive, comforting, and helped you to see him not as some revered criminal profiler, but as just another person.

"What is wrong with you today? You normally don't care when I sit back and take a break, in fact you encourage taking a break from working. So I'll ask you again what was that?" Your tone felt unnatural and uncomfortable on your tongue, almost like a bitter taste that won't go away.

"Nothing is wrong with me today." Unusually he doesn't defend himself, infact you would almost think he was completely innocent if you hadn't witnessed the event it's self. "Did I do something wrong, did I upset you?" You ask, almost hesitantly.

This time when his eyebrows furrow they take on a more horrified expression. "Why do you think you did something wrong?" He sighs slightly, clearly upset by your assumption that you'd done something to upset him. In his eyes you were perfect, to him you had no flaws, to him it was like aphrodite had sculpted you herself. But that was the problem, you unintentionally were his problem, you were gorgeous and young, full of life even. And that absolutely terrified him, he'd been held at gunpoint, he'd watched people die and yet nothing terrified him more than his own feelings.

You shrug, "I don't know. You just seem..." You find it hard to search for the correct words to display how you truly feel, and the truth is that you don't know how you feel, of course you know, but you don't actually know. You know that you would do anything for the man in front of you, you know that you would give your life for his, that if the chance arose you would love him -if he let you-.

"Upset? At you?" He asks with a soft almost sad smile. He sighs "Oh Birdie" you could feel your lips twitch at the nickname. Once he'd invited you round to his apartment for dinner as a thank you for saving his ass on a case, and you'd asked about a book on his shelf about birds, he had spent a good half an hour talking about his love for birds, which were his favourite and why. So for his 49th birthday you'd painted him a watercolour bird, you'd never seen him tear up before that moment, he had felt truly touched by the gesture, he treasured the painting even going as far as to keep it on his desk next to pictures of his son.

"What?.." You fiddled nervously with the button of your cardigan. His saddened look at the way in which he softly uttered your nickname caused butterflies to arise in your stomach, this wasn't an unfamiliar feeling when you were around him, in fact you'd become accustomed to the feeling each time you made eye contact, or each time he uttered your name. This time however it felt different, like the stars had aligned in the midnight sky.

"I'm not upset at you, honestly it would take a lot for you to even annoy me. It's not you" His words feel heavy, like they sink in the air before my brain absorbs them.

"What is it then?" You ask with perplexed expression, you felt genuinely lost.

He lets out a chuckle, nervousness painting his features as his lips pull up onto a smile. "It's not you I'm upset at, I guess I'm upset at myself." He frowns slightly before staring at a nearby tree. "Did you know that birds are monogamous?" He asks casually.

"... I didn't" you respond slowly. "I'm sorry I don't really understand where this is going, unfortunately I lack social skills." Although it wasn't a joke you were certain it sounded like one.

"After I divorced my wife Jill I had assumed that was it, that I'd never be able to find love again because of this job. It felt wrong... the way you made me feel, the way you make me feel. I hate it, but I love it and I know I shouldn't. You're not exactly someone a man my age should be attracted to." He sounds almost ashamed by his own words and feelings, like he gets stabbed in the heart with each word he says.

"I'm 38... I'm hardly young." You laugh finding it almost funny, of course you aren't laughing at him, but almost the irony, you'd often told yourself that it wasn't right to be attracted to your boss, the man was not only your superior but also older than you. "I'm still lost... about the bird thing." You admit sheepishly.

He chuckles before continuing. "I thought that I was a bird, that I would only ever have the experience of love once, that I would only be granted the experience of being loved. What I'm trying to say... is that I think I would like to love you." He seems confused at his own words, his eyes closing with a sigh as he drops his head to his chest.

"... is that why you told me off earlier?" You ask with a small smirk.

"I didn't like that guy, he kept staring at you like a piece of meat." Gideon frowns, in all honesty he was annoyed that the man was making you smile, he felt annoyed when he realised that you could have anyone in thr word that you wanted, after all the detective was closer to your age.

"Oh my god you're jealous" you laugh. "The Jason Gideon who is as cool as a cucumber was jealous of some detective." You throw your head back as you laugh. He began to chuckle along side you, the sond was like a song from the heavens. Your laughs mixing together beautifully.

"I would like to love you too." You admit comfortably.

Note: I am really sorry if this isn't well written or up to a good enough standard (I actually don't have an excuse I'm just a bad writer 😭)

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

[babydollmarauders]

PDA — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN'S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “Please just kiss me already.” with Luke.

“you guys are disgusting.”

my boyfriend and i are sprawled across the couch; Luke laid down on his back, and me laid down on my stomach on top of him between his legs. Luke and i separate our lips, looking over to Ethan and Mark who stand in the living room entryway.

“you’re just jealous that you don’t have anyone to be like this with.” Luke taunts, tightening his grip around me, letting his hand slide down to rest on my ass.

“no.” Ethan tells him. “i’m disgusted because you guys can never keep your hands off each other.”

“can you blame me? look at her!” my boyfriend exclaims. “actually, don’t look at her.”

“i wasn’t gonna look at her anyways.” Ethan states, flopping down into the armchair a few feet away.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i ask, purely intending to make him flustered. “am i not pretty, E?”

his eyes grow wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish.

“no! i- uh i mean yes! er-” he stutters over his words, not sure of how to respond, and Luke bites back a laugh.

“she’s fucking with you, bro.” Mark chuckles, slapping Ethan on the shoulder as he passes by the armchair, taking a seat at the opposite of the couch from Luke and i. Ethan looks at me, finding me red faced from holding in laughter.

“you’re mean.” Ethan counters me with a glare.

“she’s an angel.” Luke defends me, pressing a kiss to my lips once again.

“thank you, baby.” i mumble against his lips.

“Ethan’s right, you guys are disgusting.” i pull away to glance at Mark, who watches us with a wrinkled nose and a frown.

“we are not!” i rebut.

“ya know what? i dare you guys to see who can go the longest without kissing the other!” Ethan nearly shouts. Luke and i exchange a glance before i send Ethan a side eye.

“why would we do that?” i ask him.

“because i’ll give the winner a hundred dollars.” he tells me. Luke and i give each other another glance, making our decision.

“okay.” Luke says.

“okay?” Ethan repeats.

“okay.” Luke confirms. “it’s just not kissing. it can’t be that hard.”

**

it’s hard. it’s much harder than i think we assumed it would be. i didn’t anticipate the amount of times we would lean in to give our normal every day kisses before remembering we weren’t allowed. it’s only been one day and it feels like torture.

“i don’t like this.” i pout for the third time today.

“i know you don’t.” Luke chuckles, running a hand over my hair from where my head rests on his chest. we’re laying in his bed, cuddled up together before his game.

“it sucks.” i tell him. “i didn’t get my good morning kiss.”

“or your mid-afternoon kiss.” he reminds me. before i can speak, the bedroom door swings open, revealing Dylan.

“hurry up and get ready, we have 20 minutes.” he tells us before walking away, leaving the bedroom door wide open behind him. i groan, clinging to Luke a little tighter.

“baby, i have to get ready.” he coos, attempting to peel my arms off of him.

“you won’t get your good luck kiss.” i frown. that statement makes him freeze. i’ve come to learn that some hockey players are very superstitious. Luke being one of them. he genuinely believes that if he gives me a kiss before he leaves sophomore house every game day, they’ll win. it’s worked so far, so i can’t really blame him.

“shit.” he curses. he hums as he gets up from the bed, trying to think of a solution. i watch him with curious eyes while he gets ready, changing into his arrival outfit and making sure he has all his gear in his bag.

and i follow silently as he sulks down the stairs to the other boys who are waiting for us by the front door.

“i’ll see you at Yost?” his hands grip my waist, mine winding around his neck.

“yeah, i’ll be there.” he nods at my confirmation before we pull apart, him heading towards the door.

“aren’t you forgetting something?” Ethan teases, a smirk drawn across the lower half of his face.

“don’t be an asshole.” Dylan retorts, smacking Ethan’s chest. “this could be our downfall.”

Luke let’s out a stressed sigh at Dylan’s words, and i know this is hard for him.

“Luke?” i call out. he turns to look at me, raising his brows in questioning. “please just kiss me already.”

i don’t have to tell him twice. he struts forward, pulling me in by my belt loops and crashing his lips to mine. his lips are soft and he tastes like the red gatorade he was drinking earlier.

“dear jesus, one day. you guys lasted one day.” Ethan groans. Luke pulls away, sending a glare to his close friend.

“shut up, Eddy.”

-

[shsy7573]

Random Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) Character/Song Analysis Kinda Thing… I Guess

Okay, so yeah, Luci has 100% taken over this page. So what? I’m not obsessed, you are.

Anyway, I’ve been listening to “More Than Anything” on repeat since it dropped, and like a lot of the fandom I tear up every single time… but unlike a lot of the fandom, it’s not because of the sweet father-daughter moment (which, don’t get me wrong, doesn’t help the situation because it’s just so damn wholesome).

No, what gets me is how, just through a couple subtle moments, the show is able to convey just how absolutely shattered Luci is as a character. And, you know, because he’s my favourite, bestest, snek-baby-duck-boy, it makes me a little emotional…

So now you’re all gonna hear about what goes through my mind every time I listen to it. YAY!

“Charlie! You don’t understand, Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me. They won’t listen to you!” / “You don’t know that—” / “I do!”

It starts before the song even truly begins. When I’m listening, it’s usually these first few lines that grab my attention. I end up replaying the first 4-5 seconds of the song over and over again because the pain in that “I do” is so fucking good! (And because I like to suffer apparently cuz I end up sad. Life of an angst lover I guess).

It’s the first time we see him with actual tears in his eyes. The raw delivery of that line is so attention grabbing, and manages to say so much in such little words.

I think the reason this particular scene tickles my brain so much is because it’s the breaking point for his character in a way. I am, and always will be, a sucker for moments where a character’s walls finally come down, and we get to see what’s been festering inside. When their deepest thoughts and how much they’re hurting are revealed. The entire song is what that is for Lucifer, starting with these two words right here. I truly cannot put into words just how much my breath is taken away by Jeremy’s delivery of this line. I cannot articulate how much I love it, and how important it is for Luci’s character. it just hits so deep and so right for me and I love it.

Lucifer isn’t just saying that he knows Heaven isn’t going to care about her plan (I don’t think anyone thought that’s all he was saying but whatever). He is saying that he knows what Heaven does to dreamers. He knows what they’ll do because he has already been there, and it destroyed him. They took his ideas that they saw as too outlandish, and they squashed them. Cast him aside. And he paid the price for it when he went bashing their back and did his own thing anyway.

Luci is a broken dreamer. Throughout the entire episode, and the series as a while, we are given very strong hints of this. However, it’s not until this song that we really see it in action. It’s not until these moments that we are able to see past both the veils of “Imposing King of Hell” and “Goofy Guy who’s trying his best but not great at Dadding,” and get a look at how genuinely depressed this man is.

“My dreams were too hard to defend.”

This scene eight here. The more I see it, the more I fall in love with it. Just a great example of ‘show don’t tell.’

He’s talking about having big ideas, he’s talking about giving people a chance and reaching outside the normal, he’s talking about being cast out of Heaven. I just love the parallel he’s drawing between Charlie’s mission, and his own past.

Charlie created the hotel in an attempt to give people who have been seen as lesser to all of Heaven some sort of chance. She is choosing to have faith in them, and to open up opportunities for them to lead a better life.

Lucifer, when he gave Eve the fruit, was taking a chance to allow humanity the chance to have free will. He wanted them to experience everything life had to offer for themselves like angels got to. He offered a chance for them to lead a better life.

He had everything, and he had complete faith that what he was doing was right. All the light and hope of his dreams was right in the palm of his hand. He had so many ideas that he thought, if they were saw through, would make the world a better place.

But it didn’t work out for him.

“And in the end, I won’t lose it all again.”

Now, the first seconds of dialogue may be what I keep rewatching, but this has got to be my favourite visual of the entire song. It’s such powerful imagery, and I fangirl over it every time.

Look at how small he looks in that shot (I know, I know, he’s tiny regardless, but like seriously). He is completely outnumbered, hopelessly overpowered, totally at the mercy of all his Heavenly superiors… and he’s all alone.

He lost everything because he had the gall to dream. It’s not hard to look at the song (and the episode at large, really) and find not only his feelings of being wronged, but also his immense guilt. It shows in how much he hates Sinners. They are basically the worst of what he did, a constant reminder of the day his mistake caused him to lose his home and everything he held dear, and they are all he gets to see. Only being permitted to see your failures for all eternity? No wonder he’s fucking depressed.

The day Heaven cast him out was the day he stopped dreaming. Because dreaming big only leads to pain, failure, and suffering.

“I just don’t want you to be crushed by them like… like I was.”

This next moment is kinda self explanatory and obvious and really doesn’t need any commentary, but I’m gonna talk about it anyway. Because I love it, and I love him, and… you know… angst. I’ve mentioned my lust for it several times now throughout this post, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

I just feel so bad for him. Lucifer made one mistake. One simple, misguided mistake that ended up introducing evil into the world, and all of Heaven came down on him for it. And, you know what, in the narrative presented by the show, what he did wasn’t that bad. He just wanted to give the world’s newest creations the same freedom angels had, and it backfired horribly. Lucifer, like Charlie, was an idealist who saw the best in people and wanted to help.

And what did he get for his good intentions? Shoved into the cesspool he unintentionally created, and forbidden to ever see anything good that came from his dream.

If I had to guess, Lilith was the only thing keeping his mental health afloat for a long time… and then they had Charlie.

“The tales about your lofty dreams. I’d listen breathlessly, imaging it could be me.”

His daughter became the light of his life. Something that he cherished and indulged more than anything else in the world. To him, she was perfect, and he wanted to do right by her in any way he could.

Lilith told their daughter stories of all her father’s dreams regardless of what he thought of them, and when the little princess came asking him… how could he refuse? How could he refuse her anything?

So he shared them with her. All the tales of grandeur, and fantasies of everything he wished the world could have been. All the dreams he had long since let go.

“And in the end, it’s the view I had of you that show me dreams can be worth fighting for.”

Now, the scene where Lily take’s Charlie away has always been excellent brain fodder for me because of how somewhat ambiguous it is. You could interpret his sadness to have SO MANY meanings. However, I have inevitably decided on two potential head-cannons/theories to share here for what could possibly be going through Snek-King’s head.

One: Lucifer loves his daughter, but he feels estranged and like he’s failed her in some way. She’s such a joy, such a wonder, and in a way it's his fault she’s trapped down here with all of human ties worst. He wasn’t to be close to her, and to make the world perfect for her… but he already feels like he’s failed her in the most unforgivable way. He keeps his distance because part of him doesn’t want her to have a super high of an opinion of him. It’s kind of his depression manifesting, saying that ‘she shouldn’t admire you and your stupid dreams when they’re the reason she’ll never see true light and happiness.’

The angst addict in me likes this one more, but still I’ve got another one that always pops.

Two: He feels like he’s selling her false hope, and he can kind of see the place her innocence is headed. He’s seen the horrors of the world, and he knows the more he indulges her dreams and fantasies, the more she’ll suffer when she sees that’s not what the world is like. He knows from personal experience how much it hurts when your dreams come undone, when you lose hope in the world.

Listening to Charlie’s actual lyrics, she tells him that he was the one who inspired her to dream, that he was right to dream, and that she’s not going to back down. In the song, Luci realises that 1: maybe he didn’t fuck us as badly as he thought and that she actually doesn’t blame him and wants her in his life and/or 2: she has her mother’s willpower, and she’s never going to stop dreaming or let her world be sullied like he did. She’s so much stronger than he was.

So he lets her in.

(Side note… AWWW, look how TINNYY he is! He’s so small. The start contrast in the second image gets me every time)

There’s a bit of symbolism in the song which I ABSOLUTELY adore, and it has to do with the wings. In the flashback, Charlie mentions his “lofty dreams,” when we see the duck, which later transforms to have multiple sets of wings. Later in the song, when Lucifer finally lets her in, he also sprouts those wings.

And I just love this, because I think it acts as the perfect symbolism of him finally opening his mind again. Not just to his daughter, but to the possibility of dreaming in general.

He takes her to a circus, a place filled to the brim with spectacles and thrills, a place where humanities wildest imaginations seem possible.

But even though he’s beginning to open up, and he’s willing to help her in whatever she does, he’s not ‘fixed.’ His depression and self doubt and feelings of hollow emptiness and guilt and apprehension aren’t gone.

And he’s still terrified of seeing her spark go out like his did.

This tiny smile break is so addicting to watch for me. It speaks volumes. Once again, my angst loving heart eats it up every time. It says, “I’m still worried, and there is still so much shit going on in my mind right now about all of this, but I’m here for you.”

And that’s what counts.

Luci’s character showed a lot of colours, and came a long way in this singular episode, but he’s still got a big uphill battle to climb. He still has to come back into his own where dreams are concerned. Maybe he never will, not completely. Realistically, he’ll never go back to the way he was.

But maybe, just maybe, in helping his daughter he’ll find something worth believing in again.

That is, of course, if they decide to give him a character arc beside ‘Dad who is trying and doing better,’ but for that only time will tell.

—

And THAT concludes my rant on the Rubber Ducky Ruler. If you stuck around this long, good for you! I wrote this whole thing on a limb at midnight, and NO I’m not going to go back and edit it because why would I ever want to see all the horrid grammatical and spelling errors I’ve inevitably made.

Maybe I’m off the mark on all of this. Maybe I’m head-cannoning too much. Maybe I’m just trying to suck out every hint of potential angst out of a song that’s supposed to be sweet and wholesome. That’s for you to decide. But for me, I’ve decided that I’m satisfied with this analysis. In the end, I just needed to express all the thoughts bumbling around in my head SOMEWHERE before I exploded, and unfortunately, I feel like I’ve run all my friends dry talking about this baby to them, so now it’s your turn. But, anyways, I think that about wraps things up. It’s time to go to bed.

Farewell, stay hydrated, and have a lovely rest of your day/night :)

[reinadelvudu]

It’s nice to see a fan of Gambit who can speak facts on the relationship and poor writing with Romy. I love Gambit but since his solo’s he’s very meh. Rogue, I prefer her with Magneto. It was healthy and they were equals unlike how she treats Gambit throughout comic history. At some points it’s like she doesn’t even like him let alone love him but the writers enjoy her being this big bad boss girl wen actually she’s very jaded and vicious to Gambit. Them both being hot and southern doesn’t mean they fit because they don’t.

Gambit needs someone who actually likes him as himself and lets him be himself. She has him on a choke chain and it’s bleugh! Let him go. It makes me sad to see what he’s become in comic and it’s bleeding into the tv series, he has no self respect at this point. No one would stay with someone who has done nothing but push them away and be jealous and spiteful to them for so long not to mention all the things she’s done to him in canon between Antarctica, her taking Raven’s side when she tried to seduce him as a Foxx and basically made him out to be a p*do and the time she put in a report for the Avengers about not trusting him.

It makes her look jaded and borderline manipulative throughout Romy, it’s opened my third eye and kinda makes me resent her when she’s with him. The difference between her attitude to Gambit and her attitude in a relationship with Magneto or even Deadpool or that one time with Johnny Storm shows she only clings to Gambit because it’s familiar. They’re no good for each other and after all this time I don’t even think they could be friends which is really sad. They could have been great friends and badass wing men for one another. Not to mention the whole Irene thing? Omg that was so gross. She didn’t even know him and hated on him because of Raven. I LOVE Irene and Raven, love them together but the trauma Gambit went through over the years at the hands of Raven. No way he could look at Rogue and not feel sick, I would.

Rogue is a better character when she’s not involved with anyone at all especially a love triangle. Marriage doesn’t suit her in my opinion, I feel like all the times she’s been more focused on saving the world and being an X-woman shows her growth beyond the fear of never being able to touch and “love” someone. You can be loved and have love outside of relationships and sex. Personally I’d love to see her as an asexual. Her struggle as a young pretty woman who should have men fawning at her and does have that, her trying to fit into the normal box would mean a lot more if it turned out actually, she didn’t want it at all. She’s happy having platonic love even after she gets control of her powers would have been a powerful metaphor. She stated in the Krakoa era she didn’t want children so why not give her an arc where she’s living her best life without a man. After all these years it would be a good to see her as herself for once.

Romy has been drawn out too long to a point it’s spoiled both characters for a lot of genuine fans and not the people who know nothing of the history yet have the most to say. Like ship who you ship but let real dedicated fans have the last word on things that decide what happens in canon. I’m so meh about Romy when I used to adore them. It’s time for a change and I’m glad the Savage Lands it’s getting a second shot, now give Gambit his second shot. Give him his solo or another relationship with someone who actually likes him. Who doesn’t try to put his personality and vices in a box at the back of the closet. Rogue has made him pathetic and that’s sad because he was such a funky guy before her. Marriage should have made him flourish, instead it’s taken all his good points and made him the class clown. Why doesn’t he smoke anymore? Why doesn’t he play poker? Why doesn’t he have a life outside of his wife but she can do what she wants when she wants.

Gambit has a whole history and life away from the X-men and Rogue that’s been swept under the rug to showcase Rogue. He has a loving family in New Orleans yet the new Uncanny X-men hasn’t shown them once despite them literally being on the doorstep. It’s a bad look when they’re doing a comic about Gambit going to Raven and Irene’s wedding after all the abuse he’s suffered from them yet Rogue has no interest in his family, people who genuinely love Gambit. It’s giving Isolation. It’s giving he’s in a bad relationship and his friends and family are being ostracised. It’s giving Rogue is kinda sorta abusive to him (sorry not sorry). At this point I’m gonna go ahead and say Gambit’s family have a whole ass ban on Rogue being in their house. That would make sense. Even when he was exiled and would be killed going back to New Orleans he still made time for his family. His dad and Mattie Baptiste should be recognised as big time characters in his life. I think his brother is dead??? But he has a sister-in-law who Rogue accused of being one of his “women” in a a comic o can’t remember which one and she corrected her asap. I wish we got more of Gambit’s life outside of being Rogue’s accessory.

Romy shippers made me bitter about Romy. I think we all need a break from it, the characters have been almost damaged beyond repair while they’re shipped together. Solo comics and an end to a ship that never really worked would do them both good. 2025 should be anti Romy era. Give the characters some life again.

Ohhh God, I read you and…. how hard it is to be a Romy fan! So hard! I don't like rogueneto at all. Apart from the age, they have many important differences, and I find them very boring together. They don't have any sparkle at all. It's undeniable that if you put on the scale all the good and all the bad that Rogue has done for Gambit (intentionally or not), it will lean towards the bad. And it's undeniable that with Remy it's the opposite. He has done much, too much, for her. It's always thanks to him that the relationship keeps going and that makes my blood boil because it doesn't have to be that way, it's not fair, it's not right. In spite of everything, in spite of me, I will never be anti Romy. I think they are good together, as teammates, friends and as a couple. They have many things in common, a chemistry impossible to ignore, but above all they have that special ''something'' that, for better and for worse, makes them work.

[eris-snow]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩?

Tags: Revelation (Deku's birthday series 2024), izuku x fem!reader, angst, fluff, comfort, shoto being quirky, dekusquad, katsuki,

Masterlist

5th July. Young to old.

To say Shoto was excited would be akin to calling Bakugou mildly temperamental.

Shoto was blessed with a good face, and that in itself brought in hordes of fan girls all dreamily watching him from afar. Paired with his composed countenance and flamboyant takedowns, it’s no wonder every agency has been hounding for him to join them, throwing offer after offer at a guy who hasn’t even graduated high school.

However, Shoto…does have his quirks.

By the time you got back from a sparring session with Katsuki, Shoto was burning down the kitchen with a pot and corn. He must have found a way to jam the fire alarms because the sprinklers were iced over and so was half the kitchen. He turns around and finds Katsuki’s mouth agape. He jabs the spatula in your direction.

“I meant to do this.”

“Die.”

It turns out that it takes 1 hour and 10 people to make popcorn, because Shoto had thought it was a good idea to place a paper tub next to open fire, and even if they were on their way to becoming top heroes, that never guaranteed they knew how to make a decent meal.

In the end, Katsuki yelled at everyone to get out and decided to make the popcorn himself.

—

You snuggle on the end of the couch at your usual spot as Shoto hypes himself up on the mattress in front, like a child finally receiving their favourite candy.

You look comfy, draped in a soft, fluffy blanket because the A.C. was cranked up to the max.

Izuku opts for the closest seat to you, and a pool of relief envelops him when you don’t flinch away. “Excited?” He intones, looking at the screen.

It takes you a second to reply.

“Right.”

He gives you a curious expression, eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You mumble, cheeks pink.

You’re quirky. Certain things that you do, they don’t make sense. Just like Shoto, just like him, when he was keeping One For All a secret.

The slight pause when you take a look at him, as if you’re present and absent at the same time. The little things you would smile sadly about when they were seemingly random. It didn’t make sense, but then again, none of you did.

The war messed everyone up, and it had taken him time to find the pieces of him and put himself back together.

“You’re going out of school tomorrow, right?”

He laughs when you give him a look, shaking his head. “I saw your bag packed for tomorrow when we cleared your room the other day. Visiting parents?”

You clear your throat, nodding. “Yeah. I need to give them something.”

There was another reason too, but this was something you decided you had to do alone. “But I’ll be back by afternoon Sunday.”

There’s a beat of silence before you change the topic.

Eyes fixated on the screen, you say, “You know, when I think about all the fans and the people out there who see us, I find it funny how juxtaposing it must be if they were to see us like this.”

Izuku lets out a breathy laugh. “Well, we’re not just heroes. We’re high schoolers. Movie nights are normal.”

The smile on your face is genuine, and suddenly, you look a little less far away. “Yeah. They are.”

We’re high schoolers, Movie nights are normal.

The tension in his shoulders eases a little at his own statement because saying it out loud makes it easier to believe.

There are sides of us we don’t want other people to see, a side from the public, and a side for personal life. Izuku doesn’t believe in two-facing his way when the press is interviewing him, but he understands that privacy is a luxury that is best held behind his mouth and under his tongue.

But you’re right. Some facades of people are best viewed behind closed doors.

—

It’s the silent whispers both of you make to each other about the movie. Izuku can never really lose the muttering, it’s part of his DNA by now, and you add on absentmindedly because it’s second nature.

The jabs, the random comments. Everything. Nothing.

“What will you do, when you grow up?’ You remember asking. You’re not really paying attention to the movie anymore, but the concept scares you. You’re able to cling to Izuku because of your dream, but what if your dream isn’t enough to hold you two together anymore? What if you aren’t enough?

“I’m gonna be the number 1 hero!” You say simultaneously with Izuku, and you laugh when Izuku looks at you with utmost surprise.

Maybe you’re drunk, if you could get drunk on air. (It’s probably hormones, blame it on the hormones.) Invisible tequila swirling around, wouldn’t that be a fascinating Quirk?

“Sorry, stupid question.” You laugh, eyes droopy. “I’m sleepy.”

What will you do, when you grow up?

Izuku used to tuck you in when you were children. He’d drape a blanket over you and doze off next to you on the couch. Later on, when you both were older, he’d let you take the couch and he’d sleep on the floor. Idiot, you would say, because this was his house, he should be comfortable too.

Now, at the tender age of 17, you drape the blanket over yourself because you know you can’t keep depending on him anymore. Izuku won’t be there for breakfast every day. He won’t be there to share his meals with you all the time because he’ll be working 24/7. He won’t be there to hold you when nightmares plague your slumber. He won’t be able to tuck you in.

You try to imagine him doing that for someone else. You try to imagine them kissing him goodbye and him waking up next to someone pretty inside out, unblemished and untainted instead of someone cracking and bursting at the seams. You’re not depressed, but it feels like you’re just surviving, not living, like someone bobbing their head above the water for a second before going down under the waves once more.

Or maybe he’d love someone as broken as you? That would be salt on open wounds.

What will you do, when you grow up?

“Ahh, it hurts,” You say to yourself, smiling deliriously. The world is grey. The world is black.

What will you do, when you grow up?

I’ll remember you, you think lazily. I’d try a million ways to get you out of my head, but I’d fail. I’ll keep loving you, even though it’s hopeless.

I’ll keep our memories, for the both of us, Zuku. Because that’s what I know you’d want me to do.

When you sleep that night, it’s dreamless.

[wexhappyxfew]

And then “Look at you! You're spilling coffee.” For Brady and Annie >:)

HI POET!!!!!!! thank you so much for sending in a prompt + incredibly sorry it is so SO late for a response!! my summer has been so incredibly busy and i've only just gotten to this now, so i truly hope you enjoy!!! <3 annie and brady are an absolute joy to write and i always love getting to play around in the areas of time we get to see them in - so this is in the early days of getting to know each other and - you guessed it - it involves coffee haha! THANK YOU AGAIN!!! (also hi and hello i am back after an absolutely chaotic af week)!!!!!! <3333

porcelain, silk and starch

(a/n): ANNIE X BRADY GIRLIES THIS IS FOR YOUUUU!!!! getting back into some 'early days' sorta stuff for these two that i felt were needed for their connection. just those early moments of first meetings and interactions that i wanted to work with a bit! and ofc a cameo from co-pilot francis who is my fav of favs fr! a queen in true form!!! i hope you all (and poet most of all - this was a great prompt THANK YOU) enjoy!!! :D

“Silver Bullets should’ve been put into mass production the day she made the run over Caen,” Francis said, pulling her cigarette from her lip and patting the edge of the wing, the early dawn rays of the sun tickling the edges of the metal, “flies like a fucking angel, I tell ya, Bradshaw.”

Annie looked up at the large berth of wingspan for the B-17 and smiled a bit; it was evident how much Francis cared about the plane, like it was this thing they were caring for day by day, somehow watching it grow. It seemed Francis was coming around - they were actually on a name-to-name basis rather than incredibly formal 'Lieutenant Bradshaw' and 'Lieutenant Montez' callings. It was actually kind of nice. Annie knew Francis still held her bearings about everything, but she was more receptive and open-minded than she had been a few days back.

“So, how’d you get wrapped up in all this?” Francis said turning to Annie, a slightly darkened look in her eyes, “Some stupid bet, couldn’t handle a joke from a sick fucko back home? I’ll do you one better, an old boyfriend who thinks he’s God’s greatest gift-“

"Joined the WAC," Annie said, rather unceremoniously - not like her mother had been pleased, so Annie was just used to the lackluster of it all because of that fact (no one had been excited for such a thing, for someone like her, from where she was from), "started ferrying planes - fuel reloads, supply drops. Seems they liked me in the higher ups. Now I'm here." Francis watched her for a moment, smoke lingering up from the butt of her cigarette. With their uniforms on, they both actually looked half-decent - no pilot gear and uniform looking mangled from a mission, no sweat, burnt pieces of hair, frozen eyebrows and bloodied cheeks. Just like normal people for once.

“You know, I like that for you,” Francis said, “I had some guy tell me I could never pilot a plane. Showed him up.” Annie smirked from behind her aviators at Francis - quite the character, she could hold her own and had no problem telling it how it was. Yeah, Annie was already sold, even if Francis wasn't sold on her.

“So. The WAC. Do tell.” Francis said, pointing at her.

“Well, I did translating for a good period of time before I was wrapped up in flying. Gotta say if the opportunity had been presented, I would've stuck with it.”

“Whatcha translating?”

“German, French…tried to get a handle on Russian. Still trying my best with that.”

“Damn, Bradshaw,” Francis said before pointing a finger at her, “what the hell did that have to do with flying?”

“They said we couldn’t do it.” Annie offered back, crossing her arms and shrugging, "That sorta stuff you listen to, even if you don't want to. And then you do, even if they think you can't."

"Birdie really would've loved you." Francis said, the first real genuine smile growing on her face as she crossed her arms, "Wanna see inside?"

Climbing up into the belly of the plane, the lingering silence hit her like bricks, the feeling inside the fort. What had happened here. What they all knew had happened her; what the women of Silver Bullets had experienced. What had Montez said to let them know their pilot was dead? That she had to take control of the plane and the body was in the front seat? What mind-fuck had they gone through to wrap their minds around that fact?

"Pretty isn't it?" Francis said from behind her, briefly patting the edge of one of the seats as they both moved towards the cockpit.

"She's beautiful." Annie said, adjusting herself in the left side of the cockpit, running her hands along the buttons and the wheel and the edges of the window, "Really, it's a beautiful plane."

Glancing back at Francis, she noticed the woman far-off it seemed, eyes glazed, staring somewhere out to the hazy horizon. Annie slowly brought her focus forward again - Birdie had died here. Right where Annie was sat. It was a wonder Francis could even walk up here again - Annie gave her a lot of credit.

"Well," Francis started, blowing breath from her lips, a quick smile darting onto her lips, "we'll have plenty of time to admire this bucket of bolts in the coming days, for now…we oughta get ourselves to the dining hall. Breakfast. Ain't they say it's the most important meal of the day?"

Francis' voiced trailed off somewhere between her talking about breakfast and saying how she thought the most important meal of the day was actually dessert. Annie stood there for a moment, in the middle of the plane, lingering in the stillness, the plane that had launched that crew up into the sky and came back down without a pilot. Who still stood tall and strong, right here, right now.

Annie tried to clear her mind. She hopped out of the plane, landing beside Francis, rather gracefully, and looked up at the co-pilot in the morning sun, who was grinning like a goose at her.

"How many missions you been on?" Annie asked Francis, genuinely curious. She was trying to connect the dots from the incident to now. Had they been up in the plane after what had happened? With a new replacement that hadn't made the cut? How many had Birdie been on?

"Only two." Francis said with a slightly constrained look, before seeming to shrug it off as they made way towards the dining hall, "They wouldn't allow us to go with any of the replacements until we did a practice run or two. As you can see, those didn't go too well." Annie glanced at Francis and evidently saw the stress running rampage through her. It was evident in her face, in the way she spoke - she wanted something to work, she wanted to get in the sky again, she needed something to go right for the first time.

"If I get the position. Officially, that is," Annie started, looking up at Francis, "I intend to keep Silver Bullets as one of the best B-17s in the air. With the crew we've got, the co-pilot," Francis smiled, "I don't doubt that. Birdie had the crew for a reason." Francis watched her, a bit of sentimental air wafting through them as Francis reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"You're a good one, Bradshaw," Francis said and Annie quirked out a smile, "c'mon."

Entering the dining hall - Annie realized quickly it was only for officers and high-ranking officials when she saw the likes of Major Cleven and Major Egan at a table together, huddled over some coffee alongside Kidd, Crank and DeMarco.

"Here we go." Francis said, leading Annie towards the center strip of table, covered in a white tablecloth, filled with all sorts of baskets of goods, utensils, coffee and mugs, "Usually, you can just get it served to you. But. Figured you'd want to see the spread, huh?" Annie's eyes widened at the assortment of things as Francis gently gave her shoulder a tap.

"I'll get us a table, get your fill, I'll get the food." Francis said before walking off, giving a wave to a few, fellow officers down a few rows of tables, bee-lining towards the food line.

Annie stood quietly for a moment, her eyes running over the length of the table in slight amusement and wonder. Growing up, she never had the sort of luxury as much as simple things like sugar or cream - even in coffee. Coffee was usually black, and a little watered down (it saved them from having to buy so many coffee grounds, you know?), and usually it was bitter. But you washed it down because it was what you had.

Now - there was sugar, cream, honey, biscuits for dipping, actual cloth napkins, a little spoon just for stirring! Gently, she touched the white tablecloth, the soft texture something so delicate and foreign to her in ways someone shouldn't have to think of.

Tablecloths were rough, scratchy and torn where she came from.

Here - they were soft, cream and stitched.

Annie retracted her hand and instead focused on the coffee.

Coffee.

Sometimes all she wanted day in and day out was coffee.

Reaching forward, she picked up a mug and cradled it in her hands - it was still warm, like it had just been freshly cleaned, straight from the hot water.

Annie had remembered feeling out of place before - plenty of times had she done things in her life where being the odd one out was normal for her. But now - even with just beautiful tablecloths and hot coffee mugs - she felt like being the odd one out was something she had to address. Right now.

Glancing around, officers and officials at the tables weren't looking at her (of course, they wouldn't be, why would they, this is normal for them), but for her, being in a place like this? With things like this? Annie set the mug down and then looked at the pot of steaming coffee. She debated. Did she need the cup of coffee?

"Hey," a voice said from somewhere to her left, causing her to turn away from the coffee pot and towards the voice, finding Lieutenant John Brady there, a smile on his face, as he slowly removed his crusher cap, "Bradshaw, right? New pilot for Silver Bullets?" A smile popped onto Annie's face as she suddenly took in that it was that pilot - from a day or two back - John Brady.

A part of her had been wondering when she'd see him again or even just around. He'd been nice, hospitable, and had a funny sense of humor she could get behind. People like that you wanted in your back pocket. Even if all she knew was his name and that he had a nice face.

"Yes. Annie Bradshaw." she said, unable to help her ever-present mannerisms and held out her hand (as if they hadn't met a few days ago and they'd all but tag-teamed Major Egan), "….uh, Brady?" He grinned - she knew it was him too, she couldn't forget a face like that, but she wanted to test the waters. Give a bit of it back.

"Brady. John Brady." he said, reaching forward to shake her hand, smile growing on his own face, "How's it been going? Hopefully Egan wasn't bearing too hard after your introduction a few days ago." Annie laughed - almost a bit nervously and awkwardly - trying to make impressions was something she was never great with, but things usually weighed in her favor at the end of the day.

"No, no, it was fine, really," Annie said, as she slowly dropped his hand, a slight tinge of warmth pooled in her stomach at the thought of his hand again - and the fact that was the second time she had even touched his hand, "Major Egan is definitely quite the character."

"That he is." Brady said with a laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets, nodding to her aviators in her front pocket, "Busy day?"

"Francis' showed me Silver Bullets," Annie said with a nod and a smile, "she's a beautiful plane." Brady smiled at her and then glanced over Annie's shoulder at Francis, before readjusting his eyes on her.

"That crew's really glad you're here," Brady said, face falling slightly, "after what happened…." Annie nodded to fill in the gapping hole of words.

"I'm giving them my all. After everything." Annie said quietly and Brady nodded, watching her, something in his lingering gaze a comfort in a way she would never make out, "Well, don't let me be in your way-"

"No, no not at all," Brady said quickly with a nod, "coffee drinker?"

"Yeah," she said, reaching up to run her hand along her hot collar a bit - almost like she couldn't get her mind in gear properly, "never did have much of any of these sorts of fixings back home, so….to say the least, I'm pretty stoked to try it out." She looked back to Brady who was watching her with a quiet look on his face, a soft grin riding his cheeks as he reached forward and took his own mug.

"You said you were from Mankato? Minnesota?" he asked her as she reached forward and picked up the pot of coffee and began pouring.

"Yeah," she said, turning to look at him as she poured, "didn't have a whole lot, but…it was home." There was a twinge of pain to that word. Home. Her mind blanked for a moment, before she was hearing a voice in her ear and her hand was burning.

"Look at you! You're spilling coffee. Here, here-" Annie blinked and turned her eyes and found Brady slowly removing the coffee pot from her grasp, the mug overflowing with hot coffee there on the starch table clothes, stained with dark puddles of drying liquid, her heart pounding. She watched frozen as Brady grabbed some napkins to dab at it, before looking to her gaze again.

"You okay there?" he asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Didn't mean to batter you with questions, I swear my folks just raised me like that, questions and all-

""No." Annie said quickly, shaking her head and looking at her hand stained with hot coffee and gave a nervous smile, cheeks turning a bit pink, "I got….distracted. About home and this place. It's…it's all good. Sorry. About the coffee. And now the damn table cloths." Brady chuckled and took his hand off her shoulder and grabbed the empty mug and poured the coffee to a reasonable amount before handing it to her.

"Don't you worry, Little Birdie," he said with a smile, "it's a big place here. Lots to look at, get distracted by. Being so far from home anyway, that is. I'll let the cooks know-"

"Little Birdie?" she said, interrupting his train of thought. Brady grinned.

"You're a lot like Birdie. Captain Faulkner. You remind me of her, ya know? So - Little Birdie." he said with a smile, "Much better than Egan calling you No Name, too." Annie let out a laugh and nodded.

"Yeah, way better." she said and Brady smiled. For a moment, they stared at each other before Annie cleared her throat and looked at the coffee cup and back up at him.

"I'll be-"

"Your hand okay-" The two looked at each other before letting out a few nervous laughs.

"You first." Annie said, "Rank does its duties."

"We're both Lieutenants, Bradshaw."

"You're 1st. I'm 2nd." she said with a smile, "So?" Brady smirked, before the corner of his eyes and lips softened.

"Your hand okay? The coffee was pretty hot." he said softly and she nodded.

"Fine." she said, "Had cuts and bruises worse than this. Climbed trees as a kid." Brady watched her, brow peaked in interest. She smirked. "Also fell out of a lot of trees, too, so….all good." Brady let out a chuckle at her words, watching expectantly as she cleared her throat.

"And yes…..I was just going to be going. Don't want to hold you up." she said and then looked up at him. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, of course," Brady said, "probably flying club, right?" Annie raised a brow.

"Flying club?" She really was quite clueless on more than she thought.

"Drinks, dancing, music - get the tension out of your shoulders sorta thing." he said, another grin growing, "So, I'll probably see ya tonight?"

"Right." Annie said with a smile, holding the mug close to her, forgetting about cream or sugar, "Sounds good to me. I'll see you around. Thanks. Sorry again." And with that, she was turning away, slightly mortified at her clear inability to pour coffee efficiently. She hurried towards Francis at a table with their food, slamming her body and the mug of coffee down, meeting Francis' slightly annoyed gaze at the rough presence announced.

"You okay?" Francis asked her, eyeing the coffee and Annie's face again, "You look a little flustered. Hey, you drink black coffee?" Annie looked between the coffee and Francis and then sighed again.

"I meant to grab…." Annie looked over her shoulder and watched as Brady poured some cream into his own coffee cup - the one she had previously overflowed, to her own mortifying realization - and was now wandering away with, sipping it ever so gently, settling into a spot beside DeMarco. A pair of fingers snapped in front of her face and she turned quickly to look at Francis.

"Grab what? The LT's attention or a donut?" Francis said, before chuckling at Annie's slightly flustered expression and chuckled, "I'm just kidding you, c'mon, let's eat up. I think we're doing a practice run, just us girls - maybe with Just-A-Snappin', too." Francis bit into a piece of toast, "Harding wants to see us in the air. 'Longside another crew."

"Alright." Annie said with a nod, "We can make that happen." Francis smiled.

"Good," Francis said, "now, eat up. Don't need my pilot going hungry in the cockpit. Might have to feed you some of Margie's crushed up peanuts she's always carrying around-"

"Oh God." Annie murmured, "Bessie warned me….briefly…"

"Yeah, they're a goddamn curse on that thing, but she swears on it. Superstitious that one is." Annie chuckled at Francis' words and they continued to eat and discuss their day. Annie couldn't help but think of it all though - porcelain, silk and starch.

Everything and all things.

When you came from nothing, things like that were practically gold.

[spitdrunken]

I’m busy as usual lately, and if you’re new here, my interests tends to change up pretty quickly and strongly because of my neurodivergency lolol I see all your hazbin requests, and I will try to get to them <33 In the meantime, my girlfriend has dragged me into Ace Attorney (so blame her), and I cleaned up this ‘discord fic’ we wrote together, haha.

notes: dick gumshoe x female!reader (reader is very explicitly female here; please don’t go in hoping for ambiguity!), age gap (gumshoe is early 30s, reader is early 20, inexperienced reader. other than that, this is just very consensual sex. enjoy!

essentially, the entire crux of the idea is that gumshoe has a hookup app he uses sometimes, and you meet through there. you haven’t had that much sex, or just not sex with guys, but you’re bored and you’re horny and you decide- why the hell not? you assume nothing will really come out of it, anyway.

maybe there's just a far higher number of guys on the app you were on, and most of them just sent you a picture of their ugly penis or the most horrendous, sexual pickup line in existence… you'd practically given up on both the app and the male population in general, when you encounter gumshoe. who just tells you how pretty you are and asks how your day has been. he is outrageously attractive himself, and so you have to wonder whether or not he’s even real… despite the different start,i feel like he still wouldn't take too long to ask if you want to come over to his place sometime, but that's only normal and expected- it's the very purpose of the app such as the one you're using, after all! he warns you beforehand that his apartment doesn’t look like the best of places on the outside, and agrees to do anything you want beforehand to verify his identity! like sending pics of himself in certain poses, or (video)calling.

and you show up and all of your nerves just crash into you at once. you’re standing in the parking lot and you get so nervous you might as well throw up. you don’t really do stuff like this, but you were lured here by his genuine compliments and his good looks. you are almost tempted to text him that you’re going home, something came up, or to be rude enough to ghost him entirely- but there’s a little bit of guilt welling up inside you, knowing that you agreed with all of this, and he’s waiting for you and got his hopes up.

the reason you initially do go up to the door is this guilt. at your hesitant knock at the door, it immediately swings open, as if he had been waiting right beyond. you’d guessed from his pics he’d be big, but he’s really tall, and the spitting image of the pics he uploaded, rather than some of the horror stories you’ve heard.

"h-hi!!" you squeak. "i'm from the, uh, thing." you give him a little wave, and immediately feel stupid, quickly lowering your hand. your face is already on fire, and you don’t quite know what else to say.

gumshoe, on the other hand, only needs to take one look at you to be able to see how nervous you are. (while people often consider him dumb, he’s at least got emotional intelligence to make up for it. not to mention, he’s been around this block plenty of times before.)

"pal, c'mon, sit down. you look like you're about to pass out," he says, though not unkindly, and leads you inside before pulling back a chair from his dinner table. you're pretty happy to do as he says. "are you okay?"

"yeah, um-" you wring your hands together on your lap, face flushed, not meeting his eye. "i'm sorry. i don't really do stuff like this…. ever. i-is that weird? i just, uh, well…" you laugh sheepishly and awkwardly. "you were- you are very handsome, what can i say?"

he laughs, louder than you think you deserve, but it's boisterous. not laughing at you. "you sure do know how to make a man feel special, huh? but… hey. look at me." he's sitting opposite you now, a kindly smile on your face. "we don't hav'ta do anything you don't want to. we don't have to do anything at all! i want you to have a good time. both of us should have a good time. 'course, i'm always happy to have such a pretty lady in my home.. but i'm not gonna make you do something you don't wanna."

after his little motivational speech, you've calmed enough that your breathing has slowed down to regular levels.

"thank you, i really do appreciate it… um. i wanna try, at least. i bought new lingerie 'n everything," you mumble, eyes averted.

"just for little old me? you shouldn't have." dick's smile is goofy and genuine and luring you closer, allowing him to reach out for your waist.

"would you mind if i take a look? i'd love to see your pretty new panties." you don’t trust your tongue to make any comprehensible noise right now, so you just rapidly nod. "that's my girl."

maybe he keeps sitting down at the table, and pats his knee, inviting you to sit down on his lap. not right over his crotch, he doesn’t want to push you that quick and that hard. maybe you're wearing a cute little dress so he just pulls the hem up, and without even thinking about it, you reach out and taking him from it, holding it up for him,, you're very very red in the face and looking anywhere except at him, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he says ‘thanks’.

he just places one of his big, warm hands on your thigh, rubbing circles on the skin on the inside, and with the other hand he just traces a single finger up the length of your thigh, closer and closer to your panties to see if you don't get spooked. even when he touches your underwear, he doesn't go for your clit or anything like that, just running the tip of his finger over the side of it. maybe it's pink n lacy and slightly see through.

"that's so adorable," he tells you, maybe even tugging a little at the pink little bow on top. "s'like you read my mind and you knew exactly what i wanted to see! special girl."

"i- i'm sure i'm not… mmm--" gumshoe just hums in response, question unspoken. "i'm sure you've had prettier girls over." and you immediately want to hit yourself over the head for saying something like that, but it was what you were thinking.

"hah!" he practically guffaws, entirely unfazed. "you'd be surprised, pal. all i ever seem to hook are skinny little guys. which is all fine and good, love ‘em, but there are plenty who are just- if they can't be bothered to just say 'hi' before starting to talk about my dick, i just block 'em."

you can't help but laugh a little, and look at his face for the first time, meeting with relaxed eyes and a kind smile. (if you're going to catch feelings for this man, you swear to god--) "i guess we're pretty similar, then. i only got, uh, dick pics and bad one liners… you were the first one to just ask how i was feeling." for a moment, you can forget you're sitting in a stranger's lap with your dress pulled up, and his fingers centimeters away from your clit. maybe this guy just has that effect on people.

"people can be weird," he sighs and shakes his head a little. "that, or they just ask for the strangest things. i had this one guy over once, and he just straight up asked for fisting, which, y’know, never mentioned that anywhere before! how do ya even think you want my damn fist inside you, when you can't even handle my cock?"

"o-oh yeah?" you stammer out, the unspoken question on your lips (are you THAT big???!!??) obvious to both people in the room, and you don't even think about it as your eyes shift a looot lower than his face.

there's a tangible shift in the air, and gumshoe chuckles. when he speaks again, his voice is about an octave lower. "eyes up here, sweetheart." you jolt, practically spit out an apology, and he laughs again, louder this time. "no, no, i'm sorry, was just messing with ya. but you got curious, didn't ya? c'mere."

he takes your wrist, grip loose enough that you could pull away at any moment, but you don't. he places your hand right on top of his crotch, and places his own hand over yours. he is… big, and your face is burning. "i can see that you're wet yourself, sweetheart, so i think ya should know i've been hard ever since you walked through that door."

[sugarsnappeases]

fnvjfnbjgnjb I really hope this isn't weird but I am actually so desperate to hear some of your rosekiller headcanons (the more fucked up the better < 3)

hello!!!! i am. actually…. would you guys murder me if i said i didn’t think about rosekiller like all that often….. when i do think about them it’s normally prompted by things that saints @foursaints (lord and saviour of the rosekillers) posts. but. just for you, my dearest futurequibblerjournalist, i’ve been racking my brain for some vaguely interesting things to say. so:

to start off, in terms of characterisations, in my mind, barty is a ‘worshipper’ and evan is an ‘investigator’ if that makes sense - like my barty (and again this is heavily influenced by my whole barty michelangelo variant thing which i never shut up about) is someone who will completely offer himself up to, in this case, evan, like he’s trying to get under evan’s skin both idiomatically and literally, there’s this whole kinda masochistic self-dispossession thing going on which is him just entirely putting himself in evan’s hands, at his disposal, a ‘whatever rosie wants, rosie gets’ kinda thing (and all the things that rosie wants are a little fucked up… like evan wants. a rib, let’s say, and barty is immediately offering his up, like take mine please take mine i have a few to spare, and they do the surgery, no anaesthetic, lots of eye contact, and it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to either of them… evan likes to run his fingers over the stitches before they’re fully healed up, maybe pull a few out, just to see….)

anyway i digress but also kinda not a huge digression bc that leads me on to evan as ‘investigator’ - disclaimer!!! evan as a character is a lot more nebulous to me than barty, like i feel like i haven’t entirely grasped him yet so allow me some wiggle room please and thank you but. evan is curious, that’s his central characteristic in my mind, he just wants to like… see, to understand. i think he doesn’t care much for people in terms of them being like actual people, he cares more about. how they work i guess biologically, like how their bones connect to allow them to move in particular ways, how the neurons in their brains do things (i’m really not a steminist i’m sorry guys) to make them say things and act in particular ways. his like. life mission. or whatever. is to figure out how ‘humanity’ works if that makes sense….

and barty is a bit of an aberration in some ways bc he doesn’t interact how he’s supposed to interact and he doesn’t move how he’s supposed to move and evan is curious, bc he normally doesn’t allow anything to bother him but barty is just. a bother. like in general. and evan wants to crack barty’s head open and get a good look at his brain, prod at it, investigate it, and barty would let him. barty would genuinely actually let him and that sort of power, someone being that devoted to you, is a little heady in a way that evan has never really experienced and barty would do anything bc he sees evan and he sees someone who wants to dig deep beneath the surface of him, someone who wouldn’t flinch away from whatever ugliness their digging revealed, bc both of them are so rotten at their cores imo, and he sees a sort of ascension, a higher purpose maybe… it’s absolute body and soul devotion, it’s ‘he could physically cut my heart to pieces and put it under a microscope and that would be divinity’

[timptoe]

WIP for N7 Day: "The Dead Parents Club"

Still trying to wrap my head around how awful things are and how much worse they can get. But Mass Effect broke my brain in the best possible way when I needed it most, and I couldn't let this N7 Day go past. So here's a portion of the next chapter of my Joker fic that's been sitting in my Notes for the better part of two years; there's a different part of the chapter that I just can't get to work, but this part just kind of fell out of me.

When everything good is falling apart, it's community that keeps us together.

----

Kepler Verge, Newton System, SSV Normandy SR-2 One month, one week, four days before the end of the Reaper War

Joker knows that she’s right. It’s the right thing to do, but he can’t help pausing outside the door anyway. This is Tali’s idea. She’d probably say it was his, but he doesn’t really do personal interactions like this.

(You know what I think? I think we're called into relationships, étoile. Because other people help us get there.)

He takes another deep breath, then crutches forward.

Alenko looks up sharply at the hiss of the opening door, twisting around to peer over the back of the couch. The lights in the starboard observation lounge are dimmed, the viewport backlighting him in a halo of stars. If his eyes are a little red, Joker does his best not to notice.

“Joker,” Alenko says, tone laced with mild surprise. “Everything alright?”

Joker keeps his expression steady. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Alenko gives him a small smile. It’s brittle, and forced, though nevertheless—as always with him—genuine. “You’ve heard.”

“Shepard told me before he left with EDI and Javik.” He moves further into the room, letting the doors close softly behind him. 

Alenko nods, turning back to gaze out the window. “They good?”

“Cortez dropped them at the Cerberus outpost about twenty minutes ago. They’re gonna lay low for a little while, get a read on the place before they move in.”

“Comms silent.” Not surprising Alenko knows the protocol.

“Comms silent,” Joker confirms anyway. He blows a small breath out. “It’s Shepard. They’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Alenko nods, then looks over at him. “He tell you to check up on me, too?”

“Surprised?”

“I—“ Alenko starts to say something, but stops, ducking his head slightly. The barest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Actually, no.”

Joker sits on the couch too, a whole person-and-a-half away from Alenko. He holds his crutches in his lap. Waits an appropriate length of time. Swallows the brief rush of anxiety in his throat. “So. Tell me about him.”

“You want to…” Alenko shakes his head in disbelief. “Joker, you don’t have to do this. I appreciate the effort, but I know you’re still coming around to trusting me again, so—“

“My mom died when I was fifteen.” Joker twists the handle of one of his crutches, the brash edge unusually absent from his voice as he stares out the window into the starfield beyond. “For months after, all I wanted to do was tell someone, anyone, about her. About how awesome she was. About what I lost. About what the galaxy lost. I never did, because I’m, you know, me. But you, as we’ve established, aren’t me. So.” He looks over at Alenko. “Tell me something about him.”

Alenko holds his gaze for a moment, eyes shining. He has such an open, honest face, it’s too easy for Joker to read. The grief. The surprise. The gratitude. All the kinds of things a normal person keeps locked away in polite company, Alenko just…shows. 

For the very briefest of moments, Joker thinks he might finally see what it is Shepard sees in Kaidan.

The major looks away, out the window. “He’s…he was…generous,” he says softly. “It’s the first thing people would say about him to me, even when I was a kid. ‘Your dad helped me fix my stove, he’s so generous with his time.’ ‘You know, your dad helped me get out to Terra Nova to attend my sister’s wedding, it was so generous of him.’ Just the type of guy who always jumped in to help someone.” He looks down at his hands, folding them in his lap. “It’s not really surprising he stepped up to lead when the Reapers invaded. I just…”

He sighs, looking up at Joker. He absently wipes a tear tracking its way down his cheek. “I guess you never stop thinking of your parents as invincible, you know?”

“Yeah,” Joker says quietly.

“Yeah.”

Kaidan pauses, looking back down for a moment, then back up to Joker again, his features smoothing out a bit as he clamps down on his emotions. “It was…kind of you to ask, Joker. Thank you.”

“Well, to be honest, I came by for something else. An…invitation.” Joker puts his crutches back upright.

“Mm?” Kaidan’s wordless question hangs in the air as Joker pushes himself up off the couch. 

He starts crutching for the door before realizing he’s walking alone. He turns back, seeing Kaidan still sitting on the couch. “Walk with me?”

“Not really in the mood for poker tonight, Joker,” Kaidan says tentatively.

“Me neither,” Joker responds lightly. “Come on.”

He turns and starts for the door again. This time, he hears Alenko’s soft footfalls behind him.

“You know, I learned not to talk about Mom a lot because, just, most people don’t get it,” Joker says, keeping his tone casual. It comes…surprisingly easy after all this time. “There’s sympathy, or embarrassment, or like…staring. So much staring.”

“Mm,” Kaidan grunts noncommittally.

“And you know me, I like talking, but not, like, talking, so I went a long time with only sympathetic platitudes or embarrassed arm pats or stares to hold on to, and it sucked. And then, one day, I remembered something Mom said to me once.” He stops in front of the port observation lounge. 

Kaidan stops with him. “What did she say?”

Joker shifts his grip on his crutches. “We’re called into relationships.”

Kaidan’s open, honest face cracks into a wry amusement that Joker can instantly read: Joker, seeking out relationships with others? Surely not.

Yeah, he deserves that.

To his credit, the major’s eyes get a little wider at his own, visceral reaction, and he immediately smooths his features again, saying with not a little embarrassment, “Sorry. But, uh…you’re telling me you’ve talked to other people about your mom’s passing.”

“Yep.”

“And that…went well?”

“You’d be surprised,” Joker replies.

He turns, the door to the lounge hissing open. The group inside stops talking and looks over at the pair.

“Welcome to the Dead Parents Club, Kaidan,” Joker says.

Kaidan stands in the doorway, stunned. He looks around the room slowly. Tali and Garrus sit at the bar, some sort of bottle of dextro-liquor between them. Vega nods from his perch on the arm of the couch under the window, while Diana Allers sits next to Stefano, one of the gunnery specialists, on the couch opposite. Liara crosses the room from where she’d been looking out the observation port, wrapping Kaidan in a wordless, gentle hug.

“I…” Kaidan stops, starts again as Liara pulls back. “You all…?”

“Mom died when I was a kid. Cancer.” Vega takes a drink of whatever’s in his glass.

Allers raises hers and says, “My dad was in an industrial accident a couple of years back.”

“I’m from New Canton,” Stefano volunteers. “My folks were there when the Collectors came.”

Kaidan’s gaze wanders around the room, dumbfounded, before finally landing on Joker. “You put this together?”

Joker shifts uncomfortably and says nothing.

“He did,” Tali volunteers. “Back on the first Normandy. He and I sort of…bonded over losing our mothers when we were younger.”

“And then when Benezia died, I…” Liara pauses, collecting herself. “Well. There was a night right after we left Noveria. I was sitting alone in the mess, and these two walked in and just started…talking. About their moms. And asking me questions, and carrying the conversation when I couldn’t, and I…”

“I never knew,” Kaidan says, almost inaudible.

“No one else knows what it’s like,” Vega chimes in. “They say they do, and they can try their best, but they don’t.”

The others all nod.

Kaidan looks around the room again, not a soldier evaluating a tactical situation, but instead like a child searching a new, unfamiliar environment for comfort.

And finding it.

“The Dead Parents Club.” His voice is soft, like if he speaks too loudly, it won’t work.

“It helps to be a little maudlin,” Garrus responds. “Takes some of the sting out.”

Joker crosses to the vidscreen and starts fiddling with the setup. “It also helps to not stare at each other like some lame-ass support group,” he says, getting the thing to turn on. “So we watch movies.”

“Movies.”

Liara nods, pulling him down onto the couch with Vega. “And talk during them. Helps to fill the silences when we can’t talk.”

“Yo, whaddya got tonight, ¿comodín?” Vega says.

“Early twenty-first century Earth film, Stranger Than Fiction. One of my grand-père’s favorites.” He grins. “Mom hated it.”

“Gotta be better than that turian schlock last week,” Allers catcalls over to Garrus.

Garrus harrumphs. “Tellock is a master of storytelling. My mother had excellent taste.”

“Good to know I should blame your mother, then,” Tali says with a smirk in her voice, “for your terrible opinions on cinema.”

Garrus clicks his mandibles at her while the rest of the room laughs, descending into a bunch of side conversations as the movie starts up. Joker sits down next to Kaidan on the couch, who looks at him with wide, wet eyes, a flush of color along his throat.

“No obligation to stay, Kaidan,” Joker says quietly. “Just, you know. You’ll feel alone forever. But sometimes, it’s nice to be alone together.”

Kaidan grips Joker’s forearm tightly, almost painfully, clinging to it like it’s the last bit of flotsam near a sinking ship. “Thank you,” he whispers roughly. He tries to say more, stops himself before he breaks completely.

Joker just nods.