#RIGHT AFTER GOING OVER IT IN THE ACTUAL POST

[zvdvdlvr]

Indisputably Difficult to Choose ✰ JayVik x Reader

✰. You’re Viktor and Jayce’s new roommate- a flirt and a damn good cook. Thankfully, you get along well with the two men! Maybe too well. Eventually, you can’t tell where the line between ‘just friends’ and ‘more than friends’ is.

✰. WC: 1.7k. Female reader. I have no idea if Vik is russian or Czech but most reddit posts say hes russian😭??? Friends to lovers trope. Miscommunication trope? Oh well! Sorry for any errors in the spanish or russian pet names- I definitely didn’t use google translate. . .

It wasn’t every day that you got roomed with both life-altering scientists. And yet, here you were, offering them a sly smile. “Hello.”

Jayce smiled right back at you easily and opened the door further. “Welcome home, stranger,” he greeted.

After adjusting the backpack hanging from your shoulders, you stepped into the room. “Good to see a handsome face whenever I arrive home,” you murmur absentmindedly as you examine the walls and floors. “Where’s my room?”

Jayce nodded towards the hallway. “Down there.”

Later that night you met Viktor. Tall, lean, devilishly handsome Viktor.

You were making yourself at home in the kitchen making pasta for dinner when he cleared his throat. Turning, you smiled at the man in front of you. “I hope you like tortellini, Viktor,” you said.

He hummed. “I’ll eat anything that isn’t cooked by Jayce.” Viktor hears an incredulous gasp from the other room and chuckles. “It smells good,” he says politely, stepping closer to the stove.

“I like to make a good impression.”

And by God, you do.

Almost two weeks later you finally find your rhythm. Wake up, get ready for class, go to class, go to the lab to help out the boys (because helping out world-changing scientists looks damn good on your resume), decide what to have for dinner, drag the boys home, go to sleep, repeat. A long and tiresome but rewarding list.

Five and a half months later and midterms were finally over! You were on break and had so much free time on your hands but didn’t feel like going in to work every day. So: you made your boredom the boys’ problem (though you knew they wouldn’t actually complain).

Today was one of the rare days you could convince Jayce and Viktor to stay home with you because there weren’t any classes and ‘why let your favorite roommate be all by her lonesome?’ It was easy to convince Jayce. When Jayce finally relented, the both of you turned to Viktor with hopeful smiles.

“As long as you make that beef stew for dinner,” Viktor finally grumbled. As he hobbled away dramatically, Jayce laughed as you whooped excitedly.

When you were done basking in glory, Jayce wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You would have bet your life savings that Jayce melted further into you when you wrapped your arm around his waist since you could not reach his shoulders. “Viktor wouldn’t actually say no to you anyway, doll,” Jayce said casually, flopping onto the couch and pull you with him.

Dynamics between the three of you were. . . perplexing. Viktor was a quietly independent person who bonded with you over food, riddles, and literature. When he had seen your Harlan Ellison novels, you swore you saw the metaphorical wall of defense behind his piercing amber eyes crumble. The first time Viktor sat on the counter and had an emotionally intelligent conversation with you (while you made chicken fajitas as per Jayce’s request) was the first time you heard Viktor truly laugh- a sound from deep in his throat that temporarily distracted you from the sizzling meat in front of you. After that, Viktor had warmed up to you enough to slide into the hug Jayce pulled you in when they returned from the lab.

Jayce had almost immediately clicked with you. His charmingly pathetic smile and himbo aura were captivating. Jayce had gasped allowed when you were still decorating your new room. “Oh my Jan- is that. . ?” He then started helping you tack up posters and other goodies you had to decorate your space while gushing about some of the bands, movies, and television programs you were interested. Jayce, you learned, had a soft spot for predicable romance and science fiction movies- though he often narrated errors in information while watching anything sci-fi. He was also very physically affectionate: pulling your legs into his lap during movie nights, gently moving you by the waist whenever he was in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around you while walking to the coffee shop, and an obscene amount of hugs. You thought it was a little odd at first, but he does it to Viktor too- and you couldn’t really judge because you flirted with them and called them nicknames. A lot. 

When dinner time finally rolled around, you had a pot of steaming vegetable stew on the stove. Three bowls and three spoon were all waiting to be used off to the side. Viktor had made a beeline to the kitchen the second ‘food’ left your mouth and by the time Jayce got up and you’d entered the kitchen, Viktor’s bowl had tears of broth rolling down the side as it pleaded for help. “Smells good, Солнышко,” he praised. 

“Thank you, darling scientist of mine,” you hummed, handing Jayce a bowl.

“Wha-“ Jayce spluttered behind you. “What about me? Have I not earned the title of your favorite darling scientist?”

Viktor snorted as he started the short trip to the dinner table.

You threw your head back in laughter, eyes closed. If you were watching the two bickering men boys, you would have seen Jayce’s mock hurt melt completely off his face as he watched you laugh happily before letting his eyes flicker over to Viktor; who was completely immersed with you (not the stew). You didn’t see Viktor looking up to Jayce with a certain look in his eyes and tilt his head all in the blink of an eye.

“I mean, Viktor did fix my console and the T.V. without me having to ask,” you say as your laughter fades. “I guess pretty boy over there has you beat.”

Jayce clicks his tongue, catching your eyes. “Then I’ll have to make it up to you, tu hermosa mujer,” he says with a low tone, the spark in his eyes that burns in his eyes when you usually flirt was absent. “Hm?”

You blink. Mouth open as your eyes frantically flicker between Jayce’s eyes and the unchanging smile on his face. “I- I guess so.”

Viktor coughs so loud you instinctively take a step back. “If you guys are continue kindling your blooming romance, I’d like to remind you that I am still here.”

You don’t look at Jayce as you blink out of the confused haze you found yourself in thirty seconds ago and start to the table. “Don’t be jealous, pretty boy,” you halfheartedly joke at Viktor.

“I’m not jealous,” Viktor says, watching you intently. “Because I know I could be better than Jayce at anything you wanted.”

“Is that right?”

Viktor raises and eyebrow at Jayce as he sits beside you in his normal spot. “Indisputably.”

“I don’t know what you guys are playing at,” you cut in finally, letting your spoon rest against the side of the half-finished soup. “But clearly there’s something I’m not understanding. This-“ you gesture from Jayce to you to Viktor “-is starting to confuse me. And I- I need you guys to figure it the fuck out because I can’t keep lov-“ you cut yourself off. Heaved a sigh before standing up and leaving with a mere ‘I need to think’.

“Y/n.” Jayce watches you grab your wallet and the coat nearest to the door- which happened to be Viktor’s- and ignore him. “Y/n, baby, please-“

You slam the door on the way out.

Viktor is standing up before Jayce can say anything. “Let’s go,” Viktor tells Jayce, shoving his arms into another one of his coats. “I don’t want her out during the dark.”

Jayce understands Viktor’s fear, knowing Viktor’s anxiety was multiplied tenfold by what he’d experienced and heard during his life in the Undercity. “Okay.”

Adrenaline and anxiety propelled Viktor forward into the night, rain soaking his useless coat. Jayce had your location pulled up on his cell and was confident that he and Viktor were close. “We’re almost there,” he told Viktor over the pattering rain.

“There! Is that-?”

“Y/n!” Jayce shouted, seeing the hooded figure halt for a second before you started walking faster.

“Куколка please wait,” Viktor called. “I cannot run after you- please just talk to us!”

You stopped. Turning, the pair could see your bloodshot eyes and wobbling lip.

“Oh, my Родная,” Viktor cooed, dropping his cane to wrap his arms around you and Jayce.

Jayce held you and Viktor upright, feeling his heart shatter when he felt you shaking in his arms- crying over something he did. “Y/n, mi amor, I’m so sorry,” he finally said. “We are sorry.”

Viktor leaned on Jayce as he went on. “Y/n, I think it’s safe to say that Jayce and I. . . our feelings for you, you see-“

“We’re in love with you,” Jayce blurts. “The cuddling, the cooking, the affection, the flirting-“

Viktor nods. “But we didn’t know how to tell you without making you choose because, quite honestly, I am scared that you’ll leave or- or, I don’t know. The point is: I didn’t want to complicate our relationship by telling you the way we feel for you.”

“My boys,” you murmur, your hand going up to cup each of their cheek. (Thank Janna that there were no passersby due to the rain.) “Would it be wrong to say that I don’t want to choose? Because. . . I don’t think I could choose.”

Jayce feels himself exhale. Viktor sags against him: the soul-crushing possibility of you leaving was out of the question. “Please come home, mujer preciosa,” Jayce pleads weakly, leaning into your palm. “We can make this up to you-“

“However you want,” Viktor adds quickly, sticking his bottom lip out with a shrug.

You laugh weakly and nod. “Yeah- yes. I’d love to go home. Hold on, pretty boy,” you say before bending down to retrieve Viktor’s cane.

“Is it too early to say I love you?” Viktor asks, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You chuckle and let yourself be sandwiched between the two men who you’d been enamored with for the past six months. “I already know you do, but it wouldn’t hurt to say,” you say.

“Well, we can say it as long as you want us to,” Jayce says, watching you with fond eyes.

[stardustandash]

How many fics have you worked on since January?

Worked on about 55? I think? Its hard to calculate as I posted whumptober and febuwhump as individual stories but they exist in one doc each on my computer. I've worked on 6 fics that are either as of yet unposted, unprinted in a zine, or just lost unfinished limbo (I need to work on my merrin-focused post nur fic omg)

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

I guess I've tried to play more with present vs past tense, and finishing multichapter fics before posting. Did try out a time loop for the first time during whumptober and had fun with that!

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I feel like Star Wars is the pretty obvious answer, though right at the end of the year here comes Dragon Age with a steel chair after 4 years of not really being involved in the fandom

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Seven, I think! Jedi Fallen Order & Survivor, The Bad Batch, Dragon Age Inquisition & Veilguard, FFXV, FFXVI, Horizon Zero Dawn & Forbidden West, and Twisted Wonderland

5. What ships captured your heart?

As a gen writer its rare for ships to catch me, but thank you Veilguard for giving me Rook x Harding, and M!Rook x Emmrich. (Not a fan of F!Rook x Emmrich sorry yall)

7. What characters captured your heart?

As always Cal remains number 1 in my heart. I love him so much, along with the whole Mantis crew <3 For new this year, I am bewitched body and soul by the Veilguard crew. The writers were cooking with all of them, they're all amazing!!

8. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

...Does Veilguard count lol? For new fandoms I wrote one FFXVI fic early in the year.

I've got two fics for Rook x Harding and one wip for Rook x Emmrich as new ships!

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

That's a hard question!! I think I poured a lot of my own personal emotional anguish into a lot of the fics I wrote this year. It's been a rough year for many reasons, and writing out all that angsty hurt/comfort helped a lot

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

I think finishing 'what makes a family' was honestly one of the best feelings ever! And the fact that I still get comments on it from time to time about people binge-reading it.

11. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

I guess I could go with the above, but actually completing whumptober was pretty satisfying.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write?

'i do not love the bright sword for its sharpness' is at the top of this pile. i think about it constantly but actually writing it is proving super difficult, and it remains unfinished...

13. What fic was the easiest to write?

The one for the Pabu Days zine!! I wrote the first draft in just over an hour, and it was about 1k too many words lol

14. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

of the ones written entirely in this year, 'take a breath before the plunge' wins with its 11k words. If we count just completed this year, 'what makes a family' wins at just shy of 70k

The shortest was one of the whumptober fics, 'where flesh and metal meet'

15. What were your go-to writing songs?

The Horizon games' soundtracks! Less of a song list, but there's too many to put in here.

What was the hardest fic to title?

...all of them. Titling things is the hardest part of writing fics

16. What's your favorite title of the year?

Love and Blood Both Run Red, or maybe Cold But For Your Company

17. Share your favorite opening line

In some way, Tech thinks, it is poetic to die for his family.

From here, at the bottom

18. Share your favorite ending line

He turned, and came face to face with a skull staring back at him. There were holes through the skull, and though everything had been decayed by time, Cal could still see that the skeleton wore Jedi robes.

From then there was nothing

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

ooh i don't know! If its humorous then assume its one of my favourites

20. Share your funniest line

see above

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I think being able to slip back into old fandoms and characters for whumptober was a surprise. it didn't change the story but it was surprisingly quick to get back into things i hadn't touched in years

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

I use microsoft word for all my fics. which isn't great for longform fic and probably why i don't write too much of it

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Again, actually managing to complete whumptober felt really good!! I've never managed to finish a writing challenge like that so it was a really proud moment

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

I don't think I've ever done anything?? Though I am thinking about starting a lil scrapbook of comments or smth like that

25. How did you recharge between fics?

what is this recharge you speak of? I am either possessed by ideas that demand attention or left in a drought of creativity

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

I do playlists for myself sometimes. I have ones for Cal, Crosshair, and Omega right now. I constantly wish i had the patience to improve my art skills to do fanart

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

4 if you count febuwhump and whumptober. I'm in a Bad Batch zine that's in preorders right now - Pabu Days, and participating in a fic/art exchange for new years for Twisted Wonderland

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

firstly I'd like to thank my cat for being the one to hear me talk out plot points and details. I'd also like to thank @pennflinn and @breakfastteatime for being both supportive of all my j:fo fics as well as being inspirations themselves in that fandom! And the whole j:fo fandom at large for being awesome and supportive of each other's works. And I need to mention @fanfoolishness for joining me in not one, not two, but THREE! fandoms here!! As well, shoutout to @shadowcrow for yelling on my rook x harding fics! it's a small corner of the fandom but at least it's got you there!

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Finish this fic for the new years exchange, and get another chapter of Blood and Love Both Run Red up! Though it may only be one of those that happens...

30. What would you like to write next year?

I wanna finish bright sword and get that post nur Merrin fic postable! And since I'm currently consumed by Veilguard I wanna write more of that next year too!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[myownwholewildworld]

DARKEST DESIRES ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: you promised Joel something he's been thirsting after for a while ― your ass. so you decide to make good on said promise. a/n: am i sick? probably. undoubtedly, really. this is a sequel to A Dark Summon, but it can totally be read independently. this was prompted by this kind ask (love you, nonnie). also, do you remember that post about frankie morales saying "big stretch"? WELL, YEAH (sorry, meant to tag it but i lost it!). anyways, please heed the warnings! comments and reblogs appreciated to keep the thots thotting <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. sexual roleplay (cnc). mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). sir/daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader (possibly some ddlg dynamics). slut shaming. unprotected piv. squirting. sleepy blowjob (consensual somno). breath play. sex toys (dildo, butt plug). mention of rimming. joel (the birthday boy) fucks your virginal ass, anal sex (faked painal). reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. dual pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~5.4k. divider by @\cafekitsune

You were so nervous, your hands were shaking with excitement.

Living in Boston’s QZ was not easy, and trading was even worse. Because you were young―just turned nineteen a couple of months ago―dealers tried to take advantage of you, asking for more than they would to other people. But you were smart and the moment you learnt that dropping Joel’s name in conversation would actually give you a discount, you used that tactic frequently.

Most people in Boston were too preoccupied with life to be gossiping about the age difference between Joel and you, but there were some that would scan you from head to toe several times with disdain. Some with jealousy, others with horror.

“She’s too young, could be his daughter.”

“He’s too old, bet he can’t keep up with her.”

“She’s too young, it’s indecent.”

“He’s too old, I’m sure that little girl can’t satisfy him like I would.”

“She’s too young, no wonder why she’s always cheating on him.”

“He’s too old, I don’t know what he’s seen in her.”

You had heard it all. And you couldn’t care less. Joel, on the other hand, was a bit more sensitive when people criticized you ― like a guard dog protecting its prey. The relationship between the two of you was private, except for the times that you would hook up with a random guy in an alley with Joel attentively spying on you from the shadows.

He liked to watch, and you liked being watched. In your eyes, it was a match made in heaven. It never went further than a hand job, and you never let them touch your pussy ― Joel was extremely possessive of her. He enjoyed the look on their stupid faces whenever you pulled away, leaving them dumbfounded in the brink of an orgasm, and you would run to him, all giddy and ready to finish him off right there and then.

It was lewd, obscene, but you loved it. And so did he. Joel had shown you a whole new world when he took your virginity almost a year ago. Since then, you had been insatiable, too eager to be fucked stupid by your old man. Your daddy.

Every day you would sneak out and come over to his place to be pumped full of his cum, to have him drill you until you forgot your name and your legs wouldn’t keep you upright. And then you would go back home, spent yet satisfied, with your pussy full to the brim and your panties drenched with your mixed arousal.

Today though you were planning on spending the night here. It was Joel’s birthday and you had planned a special surprise for him. One that had cost you, but the price was definitely worth it.

You knew how avid Joel was about fucking your ass ― he almost reminded you daily. He had been preparing you for when the time came, some mild anal play to get you going. Last night, as Joel ate your asshole out, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t postpone it anymore and today would be the day. What better present for Joel than your virginal ass?

So here you were, all naked and squeaky clean for him. You had draped a red ribbon around your waist. A big, scarlet bow laid low on the small of your back, making it obvious what his gift was. You also had a smaller parcel, all wrapped up with some old newspapers.

The moment you heard the front door creak, your heart jolted with anticipation and your stomach flipped. Turning around to face away from him, you dropped to your knees and leaned forward until your forehead rested on the floor and your knees touched your chest ― your ass on full display for him.

“Kiddo?” he called.

Joel’s brows furrowed deeper when he didn’t hear a reply. He knew you were here, your recognisable scent betraying your presence. Confused, he walked the small hallway and entered the living room.

His eyes immediately fell to where you were positioned, and a rush of hot blood coursed through his veins like liquid fire, all the way down to his groin. You had knelt and bent over, your perky ass up in the air for him to admire. A red bow topped your ass cheeks, the meaning of all this becoming instantly clear.

With a sly grin, Joel rubbed his palms together, taking a step forward.

“You’ve not forgotten about my birthday, have you, sugar?” he croaked, raspy and hoarse.

“No, sir, I haven’t,” you murmured, wiggling your ass a bit for him.

Joel groaned, the tension in his pants growing tighter, while he knelt behind you. The offer was irresistible, the way your flesh jiggled commended him to smack both of your buttocks. You whimpered, your back arching some more and your crack pulling further apart.

His fingers twitched with need, grabbing a handful of your meat. Joel was mesmerised by the view ― your puckered entrance so very inviting, and your beautiful seam glistening with slick right below.

Unable to refrain himself, his index dipped in the warmth of your damp pussy, tracing it entirely until the pad caught on your beating clit. You sighed heavily, melting under his digit.

“Why are you all wet already? Have you been playing with yourself?” he questioned, voice laced with lustful anger.

“Yes, sorry, sir. I was thinking about you, about what is gonna happen tonight, and… mhmm…” you hiccupped when he flicked your clit, “I did finger myself, but I didn’t come, I promise.”

Joel’s chest rumbled, frustrated. His orders were clear ― no touching yourself, nothing at all, even if you were horny. He wanted you needy and ready to take his cock when he came home from a rough day of patrol.

“How many fingers?” he barked, pinching your hooded clit between his index and middle fingers. You wailed in mild pain, your hips bucking up and away from his touch, but Joel didn’t release your thudding button.

“Just the one. Just the pinky, I swear. I know you like my pussy tight and unstretched, sir,” your sob transformed into a moan when his thumb found your trapped clit.

“Attagirl,” Joel rasped. “I don’t want your cunt all used and loose, you’re too young to feel like an old hag around my cock.” His thumb pressed tight circles on your pebbled nub before he removed his hand from your pussy. “I will let it slide. This one time.”

The warning in his tone made you nod vehemently, as you looked over your shoulder to him. Your bottom lip was trembling, your doe eyes pleading.

“Do you forgive me, sir?”

Joel gave you a stern look before he slapped your ass cheek, and you winced in response.

“I’ll think about it, kiddo,” he already had, but wouldn’t tell you yet.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind, sir?” a single tear skidded through your cheek, bottom lip still quivering.

Joel loved how easy you would tear up, you were a natural when it came to acting.

“There’s this one thing I have in mind,” Joel muttered, his thumb ghosting your butthole. “So clean, sugar. Can’t fucking wait to dive in.”

“I washed myself really well for you, sir. I used an enema too,” you whispered, averting your eyes shyly.

“So no messy sex?” Joel almost sounded disappointed, but he was just toying with you.

“No, I couldn’t, sir,” you bit down your bottom lip, eyes shut and the apples of your face burning with shame, when the pad of his thumb gently pressed the tight ring in your crack. “Oh…”

“You like that, don’t you? All this time denying me my right to fuck your ass, and now look at ya, begging to have your butthole impaled. Did rimming your tight ass yesterday change your mind?”

You shook your head yes eagerly and pushed your hips backwards until your ass was resting on his lap, thumb still stroking you right where you needed. You rubbed your buttocks against his jeans, your weeping seam sliding on his zipper.

“I-I loved it. I’m s-so ready now, sir,” you stuttered, pouting when he stood up.

“You poor little thing. Let’s break this seal then, shall we? But I need you to work me hard first.”

Joel moved towards the couch, and you followed him, walking on all fours behind him as if you were his little doggy. Next time, he would get you a collar and a leash, he thought as he sat down, and the old cushion gave way under him.

He coaxed his legs apart to make room for you between his thighs. You didn’t need any further instructions: you were already unbuckling his belt, your tiny hand dipping in his underwear to release his flaccid cock. His dick was still soft, just started to harden a few minutes ago.

Leaning forward, you pulled back the skin on his shaft and kissed the reddened tip. Then your tongue twirled around his cockhead, slurping sloppily as you bobbed your head down his length. Joel felt his dick growing harder, bigger in your warm mouth, and he groaned with satisfaction.

You loved how Joel’s soft cock would slowly stiffen between your lips, how his weight would grow heavier on your tongue as you sucked him off. Although you played to be submissive to him, this was a reminder of the actual power you held over him. Not only a reminder to yourself, but also to him. Despite being fifty-six, you were able to work Joel hard in a couple of minutes with the brush of your tongue and the seal of your plump lips. You were proud of it.

“What’s all this?” Joel asked as he leaned over, his chest pushing your throat further down on his now throbbing cock.

Your partner grabbed the box you had wrapped from the coffee table, along with the ashtray and a cigar you almost had to sell your soul for.

“Your other present, sir,” you managed to mumble, mouth full of his hard erection.

Your saliva skidded down his veiny shaft, pooling on the thick, dark curls at the base of his cock.

“I didn’t say stop. Keep sucking, kiddo,” his reproach scolded you, and quickly resumed your job.

You heard him lighting the cigar and then tearing the newspaper apart, while you took in as many inches as you could. Now that you had felt a few cocks on the palm of your hand, Joel’s had no rival. He was so gifted, and you felt lucky you were the one getting it all for yourself.

He’d been training you to swallow him whole, and practice made perfect. So after a couple more dives, your lips reached the base as the underside of his cock dragged easily along your tongue.

Your eyes welled up due to the strain and you suppressed the gag reflex, the fluttering of your throat around his girth making Joel moan. His left hand landed on the back of your head, pushing you down.

“Your mouth was made for me, sugar,” he praised you and you revelled in his compliment, swaying your hips sideways.

He placed the box on your back and opened it. You couldn’t see him but knew his face expression would light up with a sinful smirk.

Joel cackled and smacked one of your round globes, careful of not messing up the cute bow.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

Joel pulled you off his erection by tugging at your hair. By the way his brown eyes took you in, you had to be a pretty picture ― messy hair and makeup, swollen lips, your skin glistening from your nose down to your chin with his precum and your spit.

One of his hands was holding a small butt plug. It was made of black silicone, pointier and ridged. It had four inches of insertable length, and the diameter was one inch thick.

Joel let out a whistle.

“You traded for this?” you nodded, batting your eyelashes at him. “Good fucking girl.”

He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips demanding and fierce. Your tangled tongues fought with each other, but Joel always won, subduing you quickly.

Both his hands roamed your bare body, rough calloused palms caressing your cold skin, which bristled under his touch. Joel traced your underboob, then suddenly pinched both of your taut nipples and pulled.

You flinched, a thunder of pain radiating from your tits all the way down to your pussy. Wet, sticky heat pooled between your thighs, clit pulsing and hole clenching around nothing. How could pain turn you on so fucking much?

“Move your pretty ass to the bedroom, kiddo,” Joel commanded.

Springing to your feet, you obeyed, leading the way to his bed. The room was dark and bare, with no personal items anywhere to be seen. Joel kept to himself, sharing little snippets of his life when he felt like it. You never pushed for information, knowing that he would open up at his own pace.

Putting on your best innocent gaze, you turned around to face him once you were at the foot of the bed.

“Can we play rough… daddy, please?” the term slipped from your tongue accidentally.

You covered your mouth at the realisation ― you’d never called him daddy, not out loud. In your mind you had done so several times, but you were not able to gauge how Joel would react if you did.

You were about to find out.

Joel growled at you, one broad hand wrapping around your throat ― his fingers dug on the sides of your neck. Tilting your chin up, you gasped, your hips lurching forward until they pressed against his erect dick.

“Who’s your daddy, kiddo?” Joel groaned, grazing your chin with his teeth.

“Y-you, daddy,” you replied, slowly understanding that despite his aggressive reaction, he actually liked it. “Joel Miller is my daddy.”

“Damn right I am,” he snarled like an animal. He hovered the anal plug over your mouth, “Open.” Joel slotted it between your lips. “Suck on it, daddy’s girl needs her pacifier for what’s to come. Don’t want the neighbours coming over to check if I’ve killed someone.”

When he turned you around and pushed you towards the bed, you knew the game was on. Your shins hit the metal bedframe; with another push from Joel on your shoulders, you fell face first on the unkempt bed.

“No, daddy, please, no,” you began whimpering around the plug, squirming as he sank a knee into the mattress.

Joel grabbed both of your wrists with the span of one broad hand and pressed them onto the small of your back. He tilted forward, his weeping glans gliding on your sticky slit a few times. He tapped your clit four times with his cockhead, the last tap harsher than the others, and then he stabbed your clenching hole.

You writhed under him, audibly crying now, when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. You forced tears to fall down your cheeks and mouthed a scream around the butt plug in your mouth.

“It hurts!” you feigned a painful wail, when in reality your pussy was fluttering around his gifted circumference with delight.

Joel groaned above you, buried down to the hilt, and placed his free hand on the back of your head. Then he pushed your skull down into the mattress, almost smothering you as you tried to gasp for air.

“Shut up, you bitch. Take it,” his hips snapped back, cock almost sliding out of your cunt, and then forced his way into your pussy again.

Your old man picked up a relentless pace, the nasty, sucking sound of your wetness reverberating in the room as Joel fucked you stupid, drilling you into the bed like a man possessed.

Joel freed your wrists for his left thumb to find your empty rimmed hole. He started stroking it slowly again, and you squeezed your sphincter at the touch. Unhurriedly, he worked your butthole until your muscles relaxed, then took the opportunity to ploddingly insert the first phalange in your ass.

Seeing stars behind your eyes, your hips involuntarily jerked up, swallowing the second phalange of his thumb. When Joel began pumping your tight ass with his digit, your pussy palpitated around his cock.

“You like that, don’tcha? Nasty, stupid little girl,” Joel groaned, his thrusts unforgiving whilst his thick finger twirled inside you.

You hummed loudly around the butt plug, feeling lightheaded and dizzy due to the lack of oxygen, but also to the intense pleasure, one you had not felt before.

“Mhm-mm-mhmmm-mhmmmmm,” the crescendo in your mumbling plea peaked, your lungs now burning.

Then Joel released his purchase on your hair, and your neck snapped back as you mouthed for air. Your heartrate spiked, even feeling it in your gums. Joel’s unabating shoves along with his devilish thumb finally sent you over the edge and you jumped off the cliff of your pleasure blindly. Your throbbing pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, the wave of your climax drowning you as Joel fucked you through it.

With toes curling, eyes glassy and drool falling off the corners of your busy mouth, all your muscles went suddenly limp. Your spent cunt still quivered around Joel’s dick, who hadn’t stopped jackhammering into you with renewed vigour.

Hastily, Joel pulled back and out of the heat of your tight pussy, digging up his thumb in the process too. One more second and he would have spilt inside. While he was sure he could have another erection, even at fifty-six, he rather not risk it.

His rough hand wrapped around his cockhead, reining in the need to come.

“Fuck, you almost got me there, sugar,” he cackled, running his hand down his face.

You didn’t reply. You were sprawled across his bedsheets like a fuck toy, your thighs still trembling with the aftershock of your orgasm. Joel was sure that even without the butt plug in your mouth, you would not have been able to string two coherent words together.

His lustful eyes lingered on the red bow crowning the swell of your buttocks. He was dying to untie it, to unwrap his most precious present and make good use of it. But first he needed you ready.

“Gimme that,” he uncurled his hand in front of your mouth, and you spat out the butt plug.

Standing firm behind you, he teased your pursed hole with the silicone tip. You stirred at the touch but were so out of tune with your own body, you didn’t fight him. He twisted the plug around, circling in your orifice. Slowly it went in, and when it bottomed out, your eyes snapped open, and you grizzled.

“Stay put,” he ordered you, stepping back.

Joel admired how the handle stuck out, peeking between your round globes. With a huff, he stroked his length as he walked towards the nightstand. Opened the drawer and pulled out your favourite pink dildo. It was slim and slightly curved ― you loved how the tip always hit the right spot inside your pussy.

He retraced his steps back to the foot of the bed and slid the toy between your clammy flaps, wetting it with your juices. You squirmed at the cold touch but relaxed when you realised what it was.

“Gonna have both holes full to the fucking brim, babydoll,” he mocked you sneeringly, wedging the dildo in your crying pussy until it snugly sat inside. “She’s so greedy.”

“Daddy, please, I can’t. I’m hurting,” you pleaded, sobbed even.

“I don’t fucking care. I’ll fuck your ass through the pain. A gift is a gift, kiddo,” he mumbled darkly.

Joel followed along and would not stop unless you said, “you piece of shit.” That was the agreement, the safe words you would use if you really started feeling insufferable pain. So far, you hadn’t spoken the words, giving him free rein to do with you as he pleased.

Looking at you with your perky ass up with the satin bow on top, a dildo in your weeping cunt and the butt plug poking out of your asshole, he knew himself a lucky bastard. How you fully trusted him, giving in to his darkest desires and coming up with your own. The last year had been a revelation for both of you ― you matched his freak so well.

To hell with what people thought, you were everything he had been looking for.

Fisting the base of his thudding cock, he slowly removed the anal plug, the pop sound enticing. Joel watched your open hole squeezing again until it puckered in your fold. He was mesmerised imagining how your walls would feel around him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, biting down his bottom lip.

Hypnotised, Joel pushed the plug back in your butt, slowly and steadily, watching eagerly how your rimmed entrance swallowed the beads.

“No, daddy, it hurts. Please, take it out,” you begged him with a small, breathless voice.

“Shut the fuck up,” he warned you.

With one hand he pumped the dildo, dragging the pointy tip along your anterior wall to hit the spongy spot of your pleasure, and the other performed similar motions with the butt plug.

You mewled like a kitten, your passion ringing in his ears like he was high on drugs. Seeing you like this, all pliable and surrendered, had him on the brink of coming ― teetering on the edge, precum sliding down his shaft.

When you started humping the bedsheets, causing friction in your unattended clit, Joel knew you were close to another climax. Feeling considerate, he let you chase your own high, both of his hands working the sex toys in your holes.

“I― Good fucking lord, I’m… com… I’m coming, daddy. C-can I…?” you asked for his permission, his chest swelling at your request.

“Yeah, kiddo. Come for daddy,” he rasped, feeling drunk on your ecstasy.

You finally let go again, your whole body quivering like a leaf falling off a tree. He saw your inner labia squeezing the dildo and for a second Joel regretted it wasn’t his cock ― how good it would feel to have your fluttering pussy hug him tight.

But he had to persevere. The gift was worth it.

As your body still adjusted to the aftermath, Joel pulled out the butt plug carefully. The toy slid out easily, and he watched again how your hole stretched back to its normal size.

Throwing the plug to one side on the bed, Joel untied the red, satin bow on your lower back with steady fingers, taking in the moment. He felt like a mayor inaugurating a new building, presenting it to the press. This building was only his to dilapidate. The ribbon fell through his fingers.

Joel slipped one hand between your thighs, caressing around the dildo to gather some of your slick and gently buttering it into your rimmed opening. You said nothing ― eyes shut and mouth agape, it was almost as if you were peacefully sleeping.

He repeated the process a few times, but felt it wasn’t enough. Bending down, he spat in your ass until his mouth was dry. Then positioned his weeping cock right in the fold of your ass and pressed your buttocks together to hump your butt crack. Again, you didn’t react, your drool pooling on the bedsheets.

“What a fucking sight,” he said under his breath, the tip of his girthy dick finally hitching in your asshole.

Slowly he pushed the glans in, then back out, then back in, testing the waters. You squirmed a little, your brows furrowing innocently and your nose scrunching.

“Biiiiig stretch, kiddo,” he managed to groan between gritted teeth, jaw painfully clenched as his cock finally burrowed in your puckered entrance.

That was when your glassy eyes snapped open, and both your hands fisted the bedsheets.

“DADDY!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

It was hot and tight inside, very soft too, sweat gathering on his brow in concentration. Your sphincter crushed his hard cock and Joel felt like losing control over his own actions.

Another piercing shriek from you brought him back, his hips slowly working your hole with his length. He was only halfway in, you still had a few inches to take.

“You pie― Ohhhh, ah, mhmm…” his hand was quick to find the pebbled nub in your slit, petting it gently, pressing tight circles.

The distraction worked, because soon enough his dick was fully sitting in your ass. Joel pulled back, then back in, guiding your movements by pressing his free hand on your belly, holding your waist up and moving you with him. His right ring and middle fingers stroked your pearly clit relentlessly ― you were melting again.

This was heaven. Fucking heaven, he thought. How the muscles in your ass contracted around him, making him feel woozy. How you keened. How he just knew your pussy was fluttering around your pink dildo. How your clit was extremely wet, his fingers almost slipping on your velvety skin, almost unable to catch on your button.

It wasn’t painful, it was extremely overwhelming. Your mind felt like a spongy cloud, completely blissed out. Your soul had literally left your body, that was how empty your brain was. You were so full ― the dildo cozily inside you, Joel’s girthy cock blasting your entrails without a pause. Having him fully seated in your asshole was the most euphoric experience you had ever lived ― your pulse adjusted to his, two hearts beating as one.

It was too much, but it could be even more. Slithering one hand between your body and the bed, you found the dildo. Slowly you rocked it in and out of your damp pussy ― when Joel pulled out, you pushed in.

Elated, little, pathetic sobs escaped your mouth ― real, blissful tears wetting your cheeks, whimpering as your puffy lips wolfed down the pink toy. Your clit felt on fucking fire, Joel’s fingers fondling it to a point where you thought you might actually die.

You were coming again ― Joel could fucking feel it in his bones. Only this time, you squirted all over him, the warm liquid running down his thighs like a cascade whilst your whole body quaked uncontrollably.

“Oh my! Daddy! DADDY!” you wailed as he fucked you through it, hips almost stuttering now. “I can feel you in my guts! OH, FUCKING HELL!”

That was fucking it. With a guttural groan, Joel finally came, thick, sticky ropes spilling in your ass, painting your walls white. For a minute, he kept on filling you with his cum, cock maddingly twitching inside you. He closed his eyes and heavily sighed, as if the biggest weight had been taken off his shoulders.

By the time he was done, Joel was heaving, his chest rising in quick succession. That had been the best sex he’d ever had, and he was no novice like you. God, even his legs were trembling with effort.

Joel smacked both your ass cheeks as you plummeted onto the bed, a stupid grin curling the corners of your sinful mouth. You rolled to your side to look at him ― a fucked-out expression, your eyes hazy, sweaty hair sticking to your face.

The way you lazily smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.

“That was… something else,” you whispered, half asleep, totally spent.

Joel couldn’t help but chortle.

“I told you, kiddo,” he said, manoeuvring you back onto your belly so he could watch his semen gushing out your ass. “Squeeze your butthole for me, babydoll. Get it all out.”

You obeyed, all his cum slowly trickling out until your ass was empty.

“Good girl,” he praised you.

He admired the view for a hot minute ― you were a dewy mess, tangled in his bedsheets, with the pink dildo still poking out your sweet pussy. So tight, he thought, your slick cunt wouldn’t release it even when he gently tugged at it. Joel didn’t have the heart to take such comfort away from you yet, so he left the dildo in.

Joel disappeared into the bathroom after that to shower quickly. Then grabbed some wet towels and went back to the bedroom, naked as you were, to find you soundly asleep in an odd position.

He cleaned you up ― first your sweaty face, then your upper body. Joel coaxed your legs apart and couldn’t resist the urge to bow down and press a sweet kiss to your clit, slowly extracting the dildo from your pussy.

You hummed in your sleep, jaw slack and snoring lightly.

“The best daddy’s girl one could ask for,” he purred before resuming the task of rubbing your cunt and your ass clean. Joel was extremely diligent with your hygiene and care.

There was a big puddle on his bedsheets, right where your pussy had been leaking all along. He’d deal with that in the morning, didn’t want to wake you up now ― you needed the rest.

Joel sauntered towards the living room, seizing the forgotten cigar and the ashtray. Then returned to bed, and dragged your body up the bed until your head was resting on his lap. You unconsciously nuzzled his soft dick, your hot breath fanning the thick curls at the base.

Joel raked his fingers through your hair as he took a puff, the cigar crackling.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, kiddo.”

In your sleep, you stirred ― your plump, cherry lips caressing his base. Joel’s head slacked back against the headboard as he smoked.

“Fuck,” he cursed himself, feeling his dick harden again.

You were giving him no option ― there was nothing worse than going to bed with a hard-on. Joel knew you wouldn’t want that for him.

His fingers left your scalp, took one more puff and placed the cigar down on the ashtray. Joel cupped your chin, tilting your head up and back, while his other hand guided the slick tip of his cock to your lips. The moment your mouth was in contact with his dick, instinctually you suckled on his pearly glans.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted, voice gravelly. “That’s it, be a good little girl for daddy.”

Joel gently rocked his hips under you, only the tip disappearing between your sinful lips ― he didn’t want to wake you, not when you looked like an angel right now.

This was a recurrent dream of yours. Most nights, you found yourself drifting away and thinking about your old man’s beautiful dick. It was soothing when you latched onto his glans, just like you were doing right now ― unbeknownst to you.

In your dream, your tongue pressed against the slit on his throbbing cockhead while your lips would seal around it to suck on it. Then his underside would slide along your tongue, kissing your palate gently. Sometimes you would stop, glans sitting warmly in your mouth, and the hand resting on his thigh would find the soft balls underneath to massage them delicately. Then your tongue would resume its petting.

Heat peaked inside your mouth, and that made you scowled slightly. Smacking your lips together, sleepily, you realised that there was something warm and sticky pooling in your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered open, still drowsy, and found Joel’s darkened ones. Your head was resting on his lap, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb stroked your chin. Sluggishly, you smiled at him, rubbing one eye with the back of your hand.

“Sorry to wake you,” he apologised before he took a drag of the cigar. “Swallow daddy’s gift, sugar.”

His words made you realise that what you had in your mouth was his cum. Your grin grew wider as the tasty seed of Joel slid down your throat. You liked it when he took what was his without asking.

“Attagirl. Now back to sleep, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime,” he commended you, and you nodded absentmindedly.

Nudging his dick and tucking your hands under his thigh, you pressed a soft kiss on his cockhead, then closed your eyes.

“Thank you,” you sighed contently, to both Joel and his dick.

[jessiexflem]

– secret's out | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, Kelli Hubly's post-pilates Instagram story

word count: 1.1K

Black? Navy? What about brown? No, black, for sure. Your eyes flick back and forth between the workout sets in front of you. The black set was the most comfortable, although it was a little boring. You were loving the brown set you bought, but any core work caused the waistband on your leggings to scrunch down your stomach. Your navy leggings were a bit snug, but you haven’t worn them in–

“Y/N, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Kelli shouts through your door. Black, it is, you decide. You quickly get dressed, knowing your best friend wasn’t afraid to barge into your room even if you were only half-ready.

“We literally get to every class thirty minutes before it starts,” you counter, throwing your hair into a ponytail as you walk into the living room. Kelli had started taking you and some of the other Thorns to her pilates classes, and she insisted on getting to the studio way too early. Something about having the best reformer to pick, or whatever. 

Kelli, ignoring your remark, nods at your sports bra, “It’s chilly outside.”

Not wanting to get nagged for taking any longer to get out of the door, you grab the first sweatshirt you see and slip it on, a grey crewneck sitting on the armrest of your couch. Adequately dressed, you follow Kelli outside to her car. “Is Jessie coming?” she asks as she pulls out of your driveway.

You smile at the mention of your girlfriend, but shake your head. “She has a meeting with her publicist this morning.”

“Stop, your little smile,” Kelli gushes, “You’re so cute. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

A few years older, Kelli took you in as her pseudo-little sister when you got drafted to Portland in 2021. She was your first friend on the team, having been partnered with you for warm-up drills that preseason. Jessie had been assigned as Kelli’s away trip roommate this year, and after learning about your growing crush on your new teammate, she made it her mission to set the two of you up. 

“You’re never going to let go of the whole wingwoman thing, are you?” you groan, despite being grateful for your friend’s help. Initially, you had been so nervous around Jessie that you could barely form proper sentences around her. Early conversations were followed by plenty of ranting and face-palming to Kelli and Sam. After some motivation from the two, and Kelli planting a couple seeds in Jessie’s head, you mustered up the courage to ask her out. Well, it went more like you telling her “I want to go on a date with you,” then immediately walking away without actually asking the question. Luckily, Jessie found your lack of game and inability to flirt endearing rather than embarrassing, and you’ve been dating since June, about six months now. 

“You’ll be thanking me at your wedding,” Kelli teases.

The forty-five minute class went by fairly quickly, focusing mostly on arms and core work. It was a decently challenging class, and you could already feel your abdominal muscles getting sore. Kelli waves you over to the mirrored wall as you put your sweatshirt and shoes back on. “Picture time, Y/N/N!”

You slide yourself in front of Morgan, in between Sam and Mallie, posing for Kelli’s post-class mirror selfie. It’s become a tradition of sorts, especially now that you’ve gotten a pretty consistent group going together. “We’re so cute!” Kelli beams, uploading the picture to her Instagram story.

Jessie had gotten out of her meeting early, so she headed to your apartment, pulling into your parking lot as you were stepping out of the car. “Hi, darling,” she greets, planting a quick kiss on your temple, “Hey, Kelli.”

“Cute sweatshirt,” Jessie grins, pointing at where the Canada Soccer crest laid on the right side of your chest.

Kelli’s eyes follow her finger and go wide. “Oh my god!”

“What? What’s up?” your girlfriend knits her eyebrows in confusion, “You okay?”

“My story!” Kelli gasps, realization hitting you at the same time.

You frantically unlock your phone to pull up Instagram. Tapping on Kelli’s story, Jessie looks over your shoulder. Front and center was you, an American, a USWNT player, wearing a Canada Soccer sweatshirt. A Canada Soccer sweatshirt that belonged to the now only Canadian on the Thorns, your very private girlfriend. 

“Oh my god, I am SO sorry, I’ll delete it!” Kelli says, her fingers flying across her screen. 

“Fuck, I wasn’t even thinking,” you turn toward Jessie, scared of how she’d react. You had agreed to keep your relationship off of social media for now, wanting to keep to yourselves. “I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Why are you sorry?” Jessie frowns, looking at you, her eyes soft.

“I should’ve thought about what I was wearing before we took the picture,” you shake your head and stare down at your feet, “I’m so dumb, we’ve talked about keeping us private, and I messed up.”

“Hey, hey,” Jessie lifts your chin up with her finger, “You aren’t dumb, sweetheart. We were bound to slip up eventually, but I promise it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re not mad?” you gnaw on the inside of your cheek. 

“Of course I’m not mad,” your girlfriend pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, “I’m not mad at you, either, Kel.”

Kelli smiles meekly at the two of you, “I took my story down, but I fear everyone’s already seen it.” She holds her phone out toward you, her message requests filled with fans who had replied to her story. 

Y/N’s sweatshirt???

Are Y/N and Jessie dating?!

Is that Jessie’s sweatshirt?

Okay, traitor, I see you, Y/L/N.

Newest CanXNT call-up, Y/N Y/L/N?

“I think you’re about to break Instagram, or at least my DMs” Kelli chuckles. 

After a laugh and some catching up between Kelli and Jessie, you and your girlfriend head back into your apartment. Checking your phone, you see that your notifications are blowing up. Multiple notifications are flooding your most recent post, a photo dump from Christmas. Jessie comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and placing her chin on your shoulder.

“This person wants to know which one of our families we spent Christmas with,” you giggle.

“Well, are you going to answer?” Jessie jokes, a goofy grin on her face.

“I’m sorry, again, Jess,” you sigh, “I know we wanted to stay more private, but we weren’t able to do things on our own terms because of me.”

“Baby,” your girlfriend places a kiss on your cheek, “I promise you have nothing to be sorry for. Secret’s out, but so be it. If anything, this gives me an excuse to post the film of you that I’ve been wanting to share.”

“Making it onto an Instagram post? Big moves, Fleming,” you tease, “What’s next, a ring?”

“Don’t tempt me, love,” Jessie’s arms tighten around you as she peppers your face with kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, show me these photos you’re posting.”

[fuck-customers]

Today I had the satisfaction of having a customer who was previously rude to me actually apologize for his behavior the next day after I proved to him I was right. He had called about an issue he was having on his online account and the issue was something I’ve resolved for the past 6 years with this company, so I didn’t need much information to figure out what to do but I still let the man tell his story. After he finished I explained the problem and the steps we’ll need to go through to resolve it. However he was convinced I misunderstood his issue and proceeded to tell his story over and over and he got frustrated that I was saying the same thing. As he got frustrated so did I and I got tired of hearing the same thing so I interrupted him to explain to him that he’ll understand what I mean after going through the steps. He finally follows my instructions but when we were almost to the end, he was convinced again that I misunderstood his problem and began to tell his story again. I interrupted him to tell him we were almost done to which he frustratingly asked if I could let him talk and I let him. I gave him one more chance to tell his story again and of course he was more upset that I didn’t understand his issue and that I’ve just been repeating myself. So now we’re just talking over each other because he’s refusing to listen to me and he’s convinced I don’t know what I’m doing even though I work here. He hangs up mid sentence calls back, but gets one of my coworkers who had been working from home so I don’t know how the call went but it didn’t last more than a few minutes. I checked his online account an hour later since it takes about an hour for the online system to reflect any updates we make internally and nothing changed so that likely meant my coworker actually misunderstood his issue and he didn’t notice. His attitude bothered me so much that I checked his online account again the next day and still nothing changed so I knew he’d be calling back again, and he did. He didn’t recognize my voice until after he asked one of the same questions he asked yesterday and I gave him the same answer. He asked if he had spoken to me yesterday and I said yes. This time he was very polite and apologetic because unsurprisingly he was still having the same problem and was more than willing to actually listen to my instructions now. I went through them and again unsurprisingly everything was resolved. He apologized again and we were done. The call lasted less than 5 minutes whereas the first time it went on for over 15 minutes, so he was really out here wasting everyone’s time.

Posted by admin Rodney

[burning-an-indifferent-hell]

"Sociopath," types the rabid, hysterical quasi-fascist whose driving purpose in life is to punch down at vulnerable targets to feel better about her own helplessness and inadequacy.

"When you claim women aren't oppressed for their sex. When you claim a woman is just a feeling inside someone's head." I do? Where? I'm not a liberal who believes in transcendental-idealism or sex essentialism, I'm a Marxist with a materialist view of sex-based oppression. You have no idea who I am or what I believe, you just pigeonhole anyone who disagrees with you into this vague straw man "gender ideology" because you're incapable of intellectually honest conversation. All of this bombastic deflection and projection is coming from the same place of insecurity and insularity that fuels the rest of your asinine prejudice and misguided rage. It might sound compelling or intimidating to people who lack an ideological foundation in the first place, but not to the rest of us.

"Unlike you, we are not a one dimensional caricatures—" More projection. Everyone is aware of the extreme case of tunnel vision that afflicts your movement. Go on any radfem's blog and it's just post after post obsessing over trans women and mythical "gender ideology". Go on X and look at JKR's page and it's nothing but the same. Even her fascistic billionaire comrade Musk was so disturbed by it that he publicly asked her to focus on something other than trans women once in a while. You bigots aren't feminists, radicals, or revolutionaries; you don't care about anything other than obsessively slandering and antagonizing trans people. You're reactionaries who align yourselves with the explicit enemy and throw vulnerable women under the bus in a heartbeat if it means achieving the singular goal of destroying trans peoples' livelihoods.

"Keep your mouth shut from now on, you smug piece of shit." Shut me up, faceless creep. There's nothing you could say that possibly could. Your ideology, empty threats, and insults are as useless on this blogging website as they are against the real-life patriarchy.

"You clearly don't know what the hell you're talking about, so stop embarrassing yourself." How embarrassing was it when the fascistic and fundamentalist right you allied yourselves with in the name of anti-"gender ideology" raped your movement both ideologically and literally, used you for political propulsion, discarded you, and taunted you with the fact that the rights to your bodies will soon belong to them? How embarrassing is it that you learned nothing from that and continue the same behavior that has accomplished nothing over the past two decades aside from effectively aiding and abetting patriarchal oppressors in their ulterior goal of splintering the feminist movement and destroying women's rights?

Anyways, my original point still stands and has only been reinforced by your response: you really hate trans people so much more than you care about women that you see femicide in action and jump to using those victims as a red herring to antagonize irrelevant and already disenfranchised people. Disturbing and pathetic. And get that picture of Dworkin off your profile, we both know you've never actually read her works and she wouldn't support this impotent, self-sabotaging heap of burning shit that the modern radical feminist movement has devolved into if she were still alive today.

Trans activists:

'Woman is an identity and a social construct'

Planet Earth:

[yuurei20]

Hi I anon'd before about a rumor write-up and you said to submit specific things, so I went around and collected some I saw people talking about. You don't have to go into a ton of detail if you don't want to but a yes/no on these would be great, thank you.

Kalim was accepted to RSA but his family bribed him into NRC

Trey and Cater are roommates in the game but not in the novels

Toboso Yana confirmed that there is more to come after Chapter 7 (people keep saying RSA content is confirmed?)

Yuu is the housewarden of Ramshackle

Deuce's signature spell doubles the force of the attack he is hit with

Yuu appears in groovied art like Ace's ceremonial robes and Leona's labwear coat

Hello hello! Thank you for these questions! It is easier to prove that a thing has happened than it is to prove a thing hasn't happened 💦 But will do my best to be brief!

In Summary 1. No in-game proof (as of this post) 2. Disproven (Wish Upon a Star, Trey MyRoom Birthday) 3. No proof (as of this post) 4. No: "Housewarden" (寮長) and "Prefect" (監督生) are two different things! 🦐 5. No: Deuce explains that his magic only "stores" damage 6. No: those are both Epel! 🍎

Details/Sources:

Rumor: "Kalim was accepted to RSA but his family bribed him into NRC" Status: No proof

It has been often hinted in the game that Kalim was homeschooled prior to NRC, and we received outright confirmation that he had never been to a school in Book 7 (censored awkwardly below for spoilers).

While it is still technically possible that he received a letter to RSA and ignored it, this has never been stated in-game.

All we know is that Jamil was admitted to NRC and Kalim's letter of acceptance arrived one month later, with no mention of Kalim attending any other school or receiving any other letters in the interim.

Rumor Source: This is possibly from confusion with Jamil's overblot monologue and Kalim's delayed admittance!

During Jamil's flashback we see that he went to Crowley to ask him to not allow Kalim's promotion to housewarden, where Crowley says that "providing education comes with costs" and Kalim's family has been "quite generous in their support," but this was about his ascension to housewarden, not about his admittance.

Jamil does have a whispered line in Book 5 about how he suspects that Crowley also accepted a bribe for Kalim's enrollment but Jamil does not actually know, and neither do we!

He may be proven right in the future, but not as of this post :>

Rumor: "Trey and Cater are roommates in the game but not in the novels" Status: Disproven

We learn during Wish Upon a Star that Cater and Trey roomed together during their first two years at NRC, but this is not the case for their third year.

In addition to confirmation that all third-year students at the school have private rooms (more here) the new "Relaxing MyRoom" birthday series goes into a lot of detail about who has who for a roommate, confirming that Jade and Floyd room together while Trey is alone (Cater's birthday is not here yet!)

Rumor Source: I am not sure where this one would have come from! Maybe confusion over Cater's Wish Upon a Star wording, being misinterpreted as "We did room together (and we still do now but we did before, too)"?

Rumor: "Toboso Yana confirmed that there is more to come after Chapter 7 (people keep saying RSA content is confirmed?)" Status: No proof

Explained in more detail here!

Rumor Source: There was a new interview released along with Book 7-2, within which Yana says, "Going forward things are going to be on a much larger scale, incorporating not only the vertical and horizontal axes of the story but also expanding upon elements such as a present, past and future. Look forward to Book 7 (currently on chapter 2)!"

This was before any of us knew the direction that things were going to go in, but now--almost two years later--it seems very much like she was hinting about the events of Book 7 itself rather than anything beyond :>

This does not mean that there is not more to come after Book 7 or that an RSA arc is an impossibility! But nothing has been mentioned as of this post ^^

Rumor: Yuu is the housewarden of Ramshackle Status: No, housewardens and the prefect are very much two different things!

Deuce explains that the player character was put in charge of Grim, saying nothing about them being in charge of Ramshackle Dorm.

It is possible they also could have been named the "Grim Warden," but they were called the prefect, instead :>

(a similar ask was received before and the answer went wildly off track, but for reference!)

Rumor Source: I am not sure! Maybe confusion over whether or not "Housewarden" and "Prefect" were the same word in the original game, made into two words for EN? (They are very much two different words on JP, too, accurately localized for EN!)

Rumor: "Deuce's signature spell doubles the force of the attack he is hit with" Status: No, Deuce explains his unique magic directly to everyone in Book 5!

He says: "I wasn't the one who made it so strong. Vil was. That spell stores up all the damage I take from someone, then hits back with it all at once. So it was only potent because Vil hit me with really potent magic to start with."

He does not take credit for his magic "doubling" Vil's attack, saying outright that all he does is store the magic he is hit with and then reflects it back upon his attacker, so he can only hit with the same degree of strength that strikes him.

Rumor Source: This one probably came from the English-language localization of Deuce's UM ^^ In the original game it is called "Bet the Limit" (and this can be heard in the audio, as he says it in English), but it was changed to "Double Down" on EN!

Both "Bet the Limit" (poker) and "Double Down" (Blackjack) are card-playing terms!

Why this was changed is unclear! I agree that it does sound very much like "doubling" is what Deuce's magic should do, but it doesn't--hence why he never uses the word "double" in his actual dialogue!

More here:

Rumor: "Yuu appears in groovied art like Ace's ceremonial robes and Leona's labwear coat" Status: Disproven. They are both Epel! The prefect has never been represented visually in any artwork in the game or novels.

Rumor Source: I am not sure where the rumor for Ace's would have come from, as the prefect had not entered the world at the time of this scene 🧐

The prefect is present in the scene of Leona's labwear, but in dialogue Leona explains how he has picked up only Epel and Grim.

He threatens to pick up the prefect but does not actually do so. Maybe the rumor is from before the EN server was released, back when it was more common to try and understand the vignettes based on the visuals alone? :>

[rilestothemiles]

a semi lengthy post on the relationship between the drakes:

disclaimer: I am too lazy to find more panels than what I already have so u kinda have to just trust me when I say stuff which works a lot better over on twitter where people actually Know Me but. I will cite the panels I have used and highly encourage u all to read robin 1993.

I know this is an unpopular opinion but I think the dc fandom, the part that actually reads the comics, does way too big of a pendulum swing on fanon’s crazy abusive drakes thing. I do think the drakes neglect tim and neglect is a form of abuse. it’s not inaccurate to call the drakes abusive. I do however think calling them abusers is a stretch.

the fanon portrayal IS inacurate, I feel mainly due to the fact that they leave out how much love they all had for each other. and you can see that shown over and over again. especially the way jack speaks to tim right after janet's death and with jack’s reaction tim being stranded in no man’s land.

(batman (1937) #480)

(robin (1993) #72)

is his reaction in no man’s land a dramatic one? yes. is it unwarranted? not at all. for all jack knows, tim could die. and his response to that is anger. something any parent fearful of losing their kid would exhibit. he clearly cares deeply about tim’s wellbeing, in fact, he cares so much he makes sure the news of tim being trapped in no man’s land is shown on every station.

(robin (1993) #72)

which, while embarrassing for tim, ends up being pretty much the sole power no man’s land comes to an end. go dad power!

(robin (1993) #73)

in addition to that, tim clearly mourns his parents. not that you cant mourn an abuser, but that’s not what this is.

(detective comics (1937) #621)

(identity crisis (2004) #6)

not to mention, of course, that tim did have mrs. mac when the drakes were on trips. he was not left home alone edit: I have since been corrected by the lovely spoilerjpeg that mrs. mac was not hired until after jack drake woke up from his coma. it is assumed that tim was at boarding school during these years, given the drakes did not have a place of permanent residence before.

in contagion, when tim is literally on his death bed he hallucinates his family, alive, happy, together, and aware of his identity. he misses his mom. he very clearly loves her, and he sees himself running up into her arms.

(the batman chronicles (1995) #4 - begger's banquet)

tim's identity remains a point of tension, as tim desperately wants to reveal it to his dad, but cant, as it would compromise the identities of the rest of the bat family. you see this illustrated as early as batman 480 which I reference in this post multiple times, and the issue of robin in their relationships remains up until the death of jack drake. it hits a peak in issue 124 of robin 93, where jack discovers tim's identity and is well, upset. saddened. afraid. his first thought isn't anger, it's immense grief. he's clearly afraid of losing tim, he mourns the him. and this panel is later paralleled with tim's reaction to jack's death. jack doesn't even blame tim, he instantly goes to bruce, filled with grief and anger. he doesnt know what to do. and how do you threaten bruce wayne or batman? let alone both? bruce has endangered his child for years now, without telling him, and his eyes, forbidden his kid from telling him, this reaction, in my opinion, makes complete sense, and I honestly commend jack drake for it. it takes balls to stand up to bruce/batman and he's doing it for his kid.

(robin (1993) #124)

all this being said, I think the drakes never really wanted to be parents. it’s the expectation of the times. theyre academics, travelers, their lifestyle isnt suited to that of a child’s.

(robin (1993) #11)

(batman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "Dear Dad, I wish could go back and start over again! When I was a kid, I used to dream - to pray - that you and mom would stop travelling, forget business and just settle down. We'd be together, the way a family ought to be... now I have my wish. I'm going to with you all the time. And it's tearing me apart."

tim addresses that letter to "the father I never knew." tim and jack got the chance to rectify that, but tim and janet’s relationship never really had the time to recover from it and I think tim can have an idealized version of her in his head as a result of it.

jack really fails tim in a number of ways. he says he’ll make an effort after janet dies and you expect for that to be a catalyst for him, especially because he actively says it will be, and it isnt.

he does this a number of times. he says he’ll make an effort and then he doesnt. or he ends up making a huge amount of effort all at once and then stops, the cycle repeats. tim learns to expect it.

(batman (1937) #480)

(robin (1993) #15)

later, he goes way too hard on the strict dad thing, which I get, because tim isnt an easy kid by any means, but he forgets that tim has never Had that structure, and he needs to actually build the relationship’s foundation first if he wants to decide to be a parent now, and he never does.

(batman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "Funny. how once you never seemed to care - at least, you never showed me that you did. And now you want to run my life. Do you really think we can start over..?"

jack also often doesnt even give tim the chance to explain himself, even in situations that really weren't his fault.

(robin (1993) #44-45)

it never really ends up being just tim and his dad, because the second jack gets out his coma he brings in dana, and shes honestly what keeps the relationship from not worsening. dana is often the mediator, telling dana to ease up on tim. it’s dana who influences jack to put in an effort. shes the catalyst, not janet’s death.

(robin (1993) #47)

warning for the upcoming pages - mentions of underage (consensual) sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism after an implied sexual assault (from someone outside the relationship)

(robin (1993) #45)

even with her mediating, things are still rough between jack and tim. jack very clearly has no idea how to parent tim, never really having had to before. tim has always been extremely self sufficient, mainly due to his parents' neglect.

(baatman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "I've no idea who you think I am, Dad - but I'm not that boy. I had to fend for myself for a long time. I changed, Dad. I have a lot of... secrets."

jack really never had to discipline tim, mainly as a result of often not being around to do it. which means he is not always the best parent, and not what tim needs. he also misinterprets a lot of tim's behaviours that he has as a result of being robin as a sign of disrespect.

(robin (1993) #45)

dana's presence is also another point of conflict as well, another way tim’s belief that jack will always choose something/someone else over him is reinforced. and he’s not wrong to think it. jack’s neglect of tim continues well after janet dies.

(robin (1993) #12)

I think tim is right to be pissed when jack all of a sudden decides to step up. I think jack’s reactions to tim’s actions make sense, but I cant defend them when he hasnt created the foundation needed to execute that. plus, he switches often between being too strict, with him watching tim too closely and judging him for it, and being neglectful.

I see a lot of people say “tim doesnt make an effort either!” well. Yeah. hes never had to before. and it’s not On Him to make that connection at all. hes the kid. and honestly the effort jack makes, especially in the start, feels like a way to display his masculinity to dana. or just... strange. and maybe not what tim needs, instead being what jack tries to project onto him.

(total justice (1996) #1)

I think sometimes people end up projecting on tim and/or projecting their parents on the drakes and they dont want to acknowledge their own parents’ mistakes, so they defend the drakes'.

the drakes arent bad parents, but they arent good ones either. they're human, at the end of the day. theres a lot of love between the drakes, and a lot of hurt too. it’s very hard to find nuanced conversations about that. I think they have a very realistic relationship, especially given the times.

[youleftmenochoicebut]

HATE TO BE LAME — james potter.

SUMMARY. — three times you almost tell James you love him + the one time you actually do.

PAIRING. — james potter x fem!childhoodbsf!reader

WARNINGS. — fluff, angst, uhm… death? if smth else here may be triggering lmk, im still kinda learning all this

A/N. — sorry for cross-tagging! i think i only did on that first post, haven’t done it on the rest and def won’t do it again!

1970.

you’re sitting by an old oak tree, laying back against it, holding an apple in your hand. you throw it up in the air then catch it without much fuss, having been doing this for almost thirty minutes. it’s getting pretty boring, waiting for your bestfriend in your usual meeting spot.

the wheat field you and James have made your personal hang out place is perfectly centered between your houses, both of you having the same amount of road to pass to get here, and it’s been your favorite since forever.

most of the time, like right now, you meet to fly around and practice on your broomsticks, even though you’re too young to even have them. perks of being born in wizarding families that teach magic and all from the moment you’re born.

another heavy sigh leaves your lips, and you bite into your apple, chewing on it completely. the summer’s merciless this year, the temperatures especially high for britain, and the heat pisses you off even more than James being late.

you stand up after eating your apple, gathering your stuff annoyed, when he finally shows up. you hear him first, only then see him when you turn around.

“hi there, mate!” he calls out, clutching his broomstick in his hand as he practically runs to you, and you look at him unamused.

“you’re late, Jamie.” your lips quiver, and you cross your hands over your chest, quickly moving back to picking up your toys and others. “almost an hour.”

“i know, i’m sorry!” he groans softly, approaching you with an apologetic but still goofy smile, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “my mum made me tidy my room first. even under my bed! it was a nightmare!”

you pout, mulling over your options for an answer, careful eyes set on him and sliding over his form. his curls are messed up (you can see a spider web cling to them all the way from here), the glasses on his nose askew, and he’s breathing faster, probably running to you from home the whole way. you slowly nod, putting your things down again.

“i made you a wreath when i was waiting for you.” you say as you search through your bag, then pull out the wreath, motioning him to sit down in the shadows under the oak. the wreath is clumsy, but nonetheless pretty, mostly made of wild flowers, poppies and daisies.

you place it on his head, smiling when you notice his grin only get bigger, and you pull away soon.

“i’m gonna wear it all the time, Y/N!” James exclaims enthusiastically, waving his hands like an excited toddler, and for a while you let him tell you stories. when he mentions going into the nearby river to catch some frogs, you nod, but as he stands up you pull him back down, remembering your mother’s words.

you turn around to your bag, taking out a bottle of sunscreen, then look at him again.

“my mom said that her muggle friend bought her this. it’s a cream to protect you so the sun doesn’t hurt you!” you explain at his surprised expression, and you know you were the same level confused when your mother told you about it.

you squeeze some of that sunscreen onto your palm, from there putting it on James’ face and slowly rubbing it in.

“i think you’re going to be in Hufflepuff.” James murmurs suddenly and you raise your eyebrows, your hands freezing on his cheeks. “you’re just so kind.”

you and James are starting Hogwarts next year and the closer it gets the more excited you two grow, the only fear growing along with your excitement being that of a case where you don’t end up in the same house. with James being sure he’s gonna be a gryffindor, you’re sure you aren’t.

“my whole family’s been in Slytherin.” you shrug, renewing your movements on his face, and you’re trying hard not to chuckle when he makes a stupid face at you.

“well, it doesn’t matter to me!” he tugs at the end of your braid and you push him away playfully, rolling your eyes. “you’re my bestest friend. i’m gonna like you best no matter which house you end up in.”

that’s when it hits you. even thought you’re only ten, even if it doesn’t make sense.

i love you.

i love you, it rings out in your head like an alarm clock going off, i love you.

the words almost slip past your lips, but you manage to happily crook out something else instead.

“you’re the bestest, Jamie.”

1975.

“Y/N, stop running!” James groans as his eyes follow you around the huge room. you, him, Sirius and Peter have been doing the whole ordeal to become animagi for a good few weeks, and now that everything was done, the only thing left was to actually change.

the boys… aren’t having it, for sure. Peter’s all red on his chubby face, panting heavily, Sirius is deeply focused on the task (trying to act like a dog in hopes it’ll just work like that), James only has his eyes on you while Remus just reads a book in the corner of the room.

and you’ve actually managed to change into your animagi form after only a few hours of trying, now running around the room of requirement in your tiny arctic fox body, little tongue out cutely.

you stop in front of James, tilting your head, and then just reach out your paw to put it on his knee. he lets out a relieved sigh before you take off again, your claws making almost a clicking sound against the floor as you run over to lay down in Remus’ lap.

“oh, c’mon, mate! stop bragging, will ya?” James huffs, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. you whine, and Remus scratches you behind your ear, making you roll onto your back playfully. “Y/N, i’m not joking. change back.”

if you could, you would roll your eyes right now, jumping off Remus and freezing in place for a moment. it’s the first time you turn back into human form, and neither of you know how it’s actually gonna go.

so, mere seconds later, you’re laying naked on the floor in front of four teenage boys. Sirius smirks, but turns his gaze away soon enough, Peter looks away so quickly he bumps his head against the wall, and Remus doesn’t even glance up from his book at you.

James, on the other hand, skips over to you, throwing a blanket over your body. you sigh, suddenly feeling sore from the transformation, and you look at him with a frown.

“you alright?” he asks, reaching out to brush your hair back away from your face, and he gives you a smile.

„yeah.” you whisper, the frown on your face disappearing soon enough as you hear the voice in your head again. it’s quiet at first, growing louder by every second passing with your eyes set on him.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

but you keep your mouth shut, painfully aware of your friends being right behind you.

1977.

it’s snowing outside the castle, and it’s snowing lots. for early december you’d say it’s really a big amount. most of the students are out on the hogwart’s grounds, playing in the white landscape, while you are strolling down the halls with an obstinate expression on your face, holding your wand in your hand tightly.

you’re determined to tell James how you feel. finally, after all those years, you’ve decided it’s time. you bump into someone, only realizing it’s Remus after you’ve passed him, not even registering what he’s said to you. it doesn’t matter now, because you’re going to tell James how you feel and you’re going to live happily ever after.

yeah, right. sure.

you storm into the Gryffindor common room, practically jumping with each step you take, feeling like you could just fly off any second. you see James talking animatedly with Sirius on the couches, and they’re both as excited as you have ever seen them.

„hi, boys!” you skip over to them, ruffling Sirius’ perfectly messy hair, which earns a scoff from him, then turn to James „can i talk to you for a moment?”

„sure, foxy. what’s up?” he takes your wrist, leading you into a secluded corner of the huge space, and you can see him beaming. he’s always like a walking ray of sunshine, but now it’s all so… so much more. „oui, actually, i need to tell you something.”

your heart skips a beat at that. that’s it, you think, he’s gonna confess his undying love for me, for sure. well, the grimace that graces your features after his next words is a clear indicator that’s not true.

„Lily agreed to go on a date with me!” he practically, no scratch that, he definitely yells out, and for a moment you swear you can see his ears move in excitement. „can you believe it? i wanted to try, one last time, and i took Moony’s advice! i went up to her alone, and i just… just asked her. and she said yes.”

you nod, mustering up a small smile, but as James continues to yap along you dissociate. that’s not how it was supposed to go. yeah, of course you always knew James liked Lily. at least, that’s what he’s been telling you. you, and Remus, were never convinced. you’ve thought he liked the thrill, the adrenaline, that he just liked bugging her. apparently not.

you don’t realize you zoned out until his finger pokes your cheek, and your eyes snap back to him. you let out a forced chuckle, nodding again, before you manage to speak.

„that’s great, James.” you say, squeezing his hand with that fake smile on, and he’s too spiraled on the thought of Lily to notice you being off. „i hope Lils knows she just tapped a keeper.”

1978.

„stop messing it up, James.” you grumble as you adjust his bowtie for what must be the thousandth time, your tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as you fiddle with the material. sure, you could do it quickly with magic, but doing it like this makes you calm your own nerves.

„sorry.” he mutters quietly, his eyes darting all around the room before setting on you. you step back after a moment, crossing your arms over your chest while you look him up and down.

all the guests are out in the garden, already waiting for the groom to come out so the ceremony can begin. James looks absolutely handsome in his tuxedo, but honestly there’s not a time where this man doesn’t look fine as hell.

„don’t be nervous. you’re marrying the love of your life.” you smile at him softly, reaching out to smooth out the collar of his dress shirt, trying to keep your heart from sinking lower than it already has. „and if anything, Sirius and I will help you escape.” you add jokingly, winking at him in hopes of loosening up the atmosphere.

after all you’re his best woman. yeah, it sounds weird, but if Sirius is the best man, then you’re the best woman. that’s all you’ll ever be, and you’ve made peace with it. somewhat.

„yeah, foxy. right.” James lets out a heavy breath, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards ever so slightly, and he fixes up his curls once more. „we should go. Lils is all ready probably.”

„before we go…” you sigh, your lips pursing for a beat, your gaze turning gentler. „i love you, Jamie.”

you say those words, even though you know they will be misinterpreted. you say them, even though you’ll never explain them. you say them, and you wish you could see something click in his eyes, something that makes him realize it’s you he should be marrying right now.

you say them, and you watch him cheerfully reply.

„oui, i love you too, Y/N!” he chimes, giving you a hug too quick and too short to be anything more than friends, then takes a step back. „now, c’mon, i gotta get married!”

1981. (status: erased)

you’re here.

you feel your heart race in your chest as you stand in front of the Potter’s house in Godric’s Hollow. it’s been hours since it happened, a week since you last saw them, a day since you last talked to them.

you take a breath, then another one. it’s excruciatingly painful to just breathe, and the cold, almost winter air is not helping with that.

you’re only here because it’s your job. your partner’s off, talking to the neighbors, and you’re supposed to go in and investigate.

you know that someone took Harry to st. Mungo’s, probably one of your own subordinates, so at least you know your godson is safe.

but it doesn’t change the fact, the reality of what’s waiting for you inside.

your steps are slow, unsure, as you make your way inside. the house you had countless happy memories from and about, all of them destroyed now. without the lights on, without the sound of James’ and Harry’s giggles, without Lily’s warm smile, the house feels intimidating. threatening even.

you think of simpler times, or even moments from merely weeks ago, when your whole friend group hang out here. now, all that’s gone. Sirius just got arrested, Peter went missing, Remus locked himself out. Dorcas and Marlene grieved, so did Mary.

the wooden floor creaks underneath your leather boots, and you remember the time when last christmas Sirius hung there mistletoe, not realizing he would have to actually kiss someone else than Remus, and ended up giving plenty of kisses to James when they went in and out of the kitchen passing drinks.

you go past that, walking further into the house, and then you see him. well, not completely for now, just his legs. you can feel the lump in your throat grow bigger, and you swallow, your eyes watering already. you approach the staircase, falling down onto your knees without flinching when they hit the stair in a totally painful angle, and a sob rips through you. you look at the lifeless body of James Potter laying across the stairs, and you cannot control the tears that fall down your face.

you move up a few stairs, now sitting by his head, and you adjust his crooked glasses, feeling the salty taste of your tears on your lips.

„i love you, James.” you whisper shakily as your hand rests over his cheek, and another sob wrecks your body. „i’m going to raise Harry the best as i can, i promise.”

[bwat5-blog]

Well first let me say I actually agree that Vi’s story was given the short end of the stick in terms of the weight it deserved. Her time in the pit especially I think is really important and for it all to be handled so quickly was very disappointing.

Regarding Jinx being lost to her: So what the post says is talking about Jinx being lost to her so she does anything to stay by Caitlyn’s side. So that isn’t the fight in S2E3, its after the season one finale. Which, I mean Jinx just blew up the council after trying to convince Vi to kill Caitlyn and giving her whole “i thought you could love me like before” speech. I think its reasonable to suggest Vi feels her sister is lost to her.

Regarding Jinx being lost to her while in the pit: So like I said that isn’t what they were saying. But speaking on Vi’s disconnect in the pit, Vi FEELS that she has lost everything, and everyone. Her split from Caitlyn is obvious. Regarding Jinx, she spent seven years with the one hope of making things right with Powder keeping her going. It all ended perched over Jinx with Jinx glad Vi was going to kill her. Seems to fair to suggest Vi felt they were done. Jinx shows up at the ring and sees Vi declining physically and mentally and does not step in until Vander is revealed.

Regarding being caught between two cities: The entire opening shows Vi hanging back around corners, hood up, trying to be there for Caitlyn and being yelled at by Tobias. She’s a Zaunite trying to survive in Piltover in the wake of a Zaunite attack. Then we have the entire conflict over becoming an Enforcer. She is being torn apart by her loyalty to her home and her love for Caitlyn until her love for Cait wins out. When she and Jinx are looking for Vander and she sees Jinx’s painting alongside Vander’s face she is clearly upset because it shouldn’t be Jinx up there. But by the end Vi is encouraging Jinx that she can rewrite her story in Piltover as well, and Vi fights alongside a squad of Enforcers. Finding her home in the upper city once and for all.

Be VERSUS provide/protect/blame: So I feel like you are really latching onto that one word when it’s fairly clear thar Vi wants good things for her family as well. She doesn’t just want to be like… sit in a chair with them and is happy to be near them even if they are getting murdered. But recall Vander’s lessons from season one when Vi discusses wanting to fight for more. “Who are you willing to lose?” I think a life time of love and loss have taught Vi the value in a life of just getting to live with those she loves.

Blame-

“Get your filthy eyeballs on me

What else am I wasting for?

Feed me all your woes and pity

I am nothing anymore (Don't trip)

I'm at the bottom, it's a long way down (Don't slip)

I'm on the bend, and it's a long way 'round (I'm sick)

Of who I am and what I'm talking about

'Cause no pretty face can save me now” (Cocktail Molotov)

Vi’s story is in no small part about her learning to stop shouldering the weight of the world and put herself first. She blames herself for leaving powder, what jinx became, for everything when she feels like everyone has left her (see lyrics from pitfighter montage), and then in the cell: “i choose wrong every-time and because of it..i’ve lost everyone”. This moment is huge. After all the progress she and Jinx made Jinx leaves (good reasons but regardless), and no Caitlyn has come. In Vi’s head she lost her sister again, and now she is in the empty cell of the woman who killed Cait’s mom. She thinks its all about to come crashing down. But Cait’s love and acceptance of not only Vi but who she is help her overcome that.

Her Arc in Season Two: so, putting this all together what do we have?

1. Begins the season overcome with guilt and blame about Jinx and the total loss of the world she knew, trying to force herself into a mold to hang onto Caitlyn.

2. After giving away every part of herself to hold onto the woman she loves she is left totally and completely alone. Spiraling into self-destructive darkness.

3. Reemerges and learns to live in the new world, seeing the good in her sister, the worth in herself, finding peace and love in the estate of one of the upper cities oldest families, and finally feeling safe enough to take off her hand wraps.

I understand if you didn’t like it. I understand if you felt it was shorted as I did in some moments. But to say her Arc was non-existent is not something we can agree on.

Violet, my beloved.

I think there's a high chance you're misinterpreting the core tenants of her character.

"Why didn't Vi play a bigger role in the fight for Zaun's independence?"

Because her goals are different from those like Ekko and Sevika, who were true leaders and caretakers of their city. Who lived and breathed for the wellbeing and betterment of Zaun.

Vi lived and breathed for the wellbeing of her FAMILY.

Any qualms she had in relation to Zaun's oppression were always tied to how they negatively affected the lives of her and her family. She may have made side comments to other characters about how their actions affect the citizens of Zaun. Like Caitlyn, when they first meet. Or Jayce, after the attack they make on Silco's manufacturing facility. But she makes the comment to Caitlyn because that's how she's seen the enforcers treat her in her own life. She makes the comment to Jayce because that's just the context of the conversation they're having. Vi gets wrapped up in the bigger politics because of her pursuit of Silco, which she would have never done if he weren't directly tied to her sister.

Selfish? If you think too hard about it, maybe. But it's an incredibly relatable motivation, and one that a lot of us would adhere to. We would do anything for our loved ones.

"Why does Vi become an enforcer? That seems contradictory to her character."

Why does Vi team up with an enforcer to begin with? Because Caitlyn becomes the conduit in which Vi can get back to her family. To the one person she loves more than anything. And Caitlyn is also the conduit in which Vi can seek out those who have harmed her family--Silco, and in relation, Sevika.

And along the way, she falls in love with Caitlyn, because of the quality of character that Cait shows to her.

So what is Vi to do when she's lost everything? Silco is dead, and Jinx is lost to her. What else would Vi do, but do anything to stay by Caitlyn's side?

"Everyone in my life has changed, promise me you won't change." She is BEGGING Caitlyn to stay, to be with her, to be the one thing she loves that doesn't fade away, and she's also afraid that she's abandoned her origins for nothing.

What else is Vi to do but crash out, lose herself to violence and drinking, when she truly has lost everyone?

When she asks Jinx in act 2 to stay in the commune and help them out, she asks because it's something they can do together. It's the way she can be with those she loves.

Vi just wants to be with those she loves. That's all she's ever wanted. It's what has stayed constant for her character throughout the entirety of the show.

Victims of oppressive systems don't always want to be the hero. Sometimes they just want to survive and be with the people they love.

I think if you gathered anything else from her character, or rather, you interpreted her motivations to be anything else, you got lost along the way with what story you were being told through Vi.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Jin "Jiji" Enjoji relationship headcanons

warnings: fem!reader, spoilers beyond the Cursed House arc, OOC, tooth-rotting fluff.

Special thanks to @miaurieee for beta-reading this draft before I posted it :3 I am caught up with the Dandadan manga series up to Volume 10, which somehow I was able to acquire over the Christmas break by nothing short of a miracle given to how my local bookstore keeps running out of stock 😅 So if you don’t want to be spoiled, it’s probably not a good idea to venture any further.

For those who have chosen to stay, I hope you’ll enjoy these headcanons~!

Although he is a flirty and weird-ass drama queen by nature, Jiji is the sweetest guy that a girl would love to have as a boyfriend. Not only is he charismatic, funny, easygoing, he is also loyal. Once he knows he has found that special someone, he is in it for the long haul. And he knows that it’s you because…well, he’s got great instincts! :3

He would definitely walk you to and from school.

Do you want a drink from the school cafeteria? No problem! Just give him a few and he’ll be right back~! He might seem a little flighty, but Jiji has a really good memory. Remember how he knew Momo preferred Pompy even when it’s been years since he’s seen her? Yeah, he’ll have your likes and dislikes memorized in no time.

Dates with Jiji would be spontaneous; ranging between cozy and quiet, like window-shopping around the city and then grab something at the coffee shop, adrenaline-pumping like playing against each other at the local arcade to see who can win the most tickets or going on all the rides at the amusement park, it’s honestly the luck of the draw. But please don’t feel obligated to do everything in one day just to make him happy, okay? If you’re feeling tired and want to go home or if you’re hungry, he’ll totally understand.

Communication and honesty are important foundations in your relationship, so bottling everything up inside is not a good idea and might cause Jiji to second-guess himself or think he’s doing something wrong.

Now, in regard to the whole Evil Eye scenario: he will insist that you stay away from the Ayase residence until the exorcism is completed. He has a mountain yokai inside of his body, and it was his own fault for inviting him inside. The last thing he wants is something to happen to you and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. This would happen if you two started dating right after he transferred schools or continued dating until he left town for the city after his parents’ hospitalization.

Flash forward to Okarun making a deal with the Evil Eye and fighting the yokai on Tuesdays after school, with the cursed underwear being safely kept at Manjiro’s shrine. Once he knows that the Evil Eye will not break his promise, especially after accidentally transforming a few times at home, Jiji will feel a little more at ease being around you. Just don’t go around splashing anything cold on him, just in case. Room temperature is fine. His chi training is paying off, so in the unlikely event that it does happen, he can revert the transformation and go back to normal. He might be a little tired afterwards, though.

If you two weren’t already together prior to the Evil Eye situation, Jiji would definitely be falling head over heels for you as time passed. He would see you as someone who is amazing in their own way, even if you had some glaring flaws and were a bit of a weirdo too :3 Brownie points if the Evil Eye actually doesn’t call you a turd and is semi-well-behaved when he’s around you at school or in public.

Treat this eccentric dude right, and your relationship will definitely be one heck of a rollercoaster ride that will be full of firsts, maybe some scary things, but he’ll be by your side through it all.

Taglist: @bdudette @hoodiepandaninja16 @napbatata @karai-frost @kazudare @myduality @shidousprincess @sleep-all-day-everyday @taesy-miranda-lee @osarumi @satorousgf @cherie-soup @skwunkler @melodiblues @anonymity-222 @cumbersome-robes @zero-in-kyoto @h0undd0gzw0rld @decay-1 @justamegafan @minnie-1-3 @bumblebeebutter @theofficialfem @sadprimrose @bigbodycity @daniiixoxo @silentbreathss @skelletonscloset @mira-belcul18 @thatstrangesheep @thewindigo

[nagaytoe]

Nativitas Domini

(noun) [Latin] Lord's birth

Jericho Ichabod X Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Requests: open

Note: Me writing something that's not Sol X Reader?! And it's fluff on top of that?! (I have actually never written fluff before if i recall correctly)

Unbelievable... Enjoy this Christmas special though, y'all (even though it's a tad bit late but better late than never, am I right?) and apologies for not having posted any one shot in three weeks (I was in a bad writing slump)

I initially wanted to make this another angst but I was too in love with the fluff, I couldn't bring myself to destroy that...

“My Love, wake up.”

A soft voice woke you from your deep slumber. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep still clearly visible in your gaze.

“Crowe?”

You opened your eyes fully to reveal your lover's silhouette in front of the window, shielding your eyes from direct sunlight.

“Have you slept well?” Crowe brushed your hair out of your face and behind your ear. His gaze was full of love and admiration, as if you were the most precious gem, the most beautiful being he has ever laid eyes on. You hummed in quiet agreement and he chuckled.

“That’s good, that’s good. We still have quite some things planned for today, remember?”

You pondered for a moment, gathering your thoughts, since your mind was still foggy from sleep. Another quiet chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a hand was placed on the top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“We wanted to go shopping for presents, then bake some cookies and then go to Jess’ and Brittney's place to celebrate with the others. It’s already 10 am, it might be better if we get started soon.”

You slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and yawning.

“I already made breakfast, the only missing piece at the table is you.” Crowe stretched out his hand towards you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You looked at him for a moment, unable to believe that he is actually here with you, by your side. Taking his hand and nodding, Crowe helped you get out of the bed and the two of you walked towards the kitchen together.

The smell of pancakes and orange juice invaded your senses and you soon saw what Crowe had prepared for you. The table was set for two people, in the middle of the round surface was a plate, soft and thick pancakes stacked on top of it. Next to it was a juice pitcher, filled with your favorite juice. However, these weren't the only things on the table. A big bouquet with the most colorful flowers was placed next to your plate and cutlery.

You let out a soft gasp, looking over at Crowe with a wide smile, your eyes glistening.

“Crowe…they are beautiful…”

Walking up behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, Crowe pressed a kiss on the crown of your hair. “They are no match for you though…”

You giggled softly in response and leant into Crowe's embrace.

“I love them, Crowe, thank you so much…”

The bouquet truly was beautiful. Purple calla lilies, white baby’s breaths and blue agapanthuses. The colors reminded you of Crowe, with his blue eyes and usual purple attire.

Crowe pulled your chair back, gesturing for you to sit down. Right after you sat down he moved around the table, sitting down in front of you. You loved mornings like these, even when the sun was absent they were filled with warmth. It was domestic. It was real. Sometimes you couldn't quite believe your luck. How were you fortunate enough to end up with someone like Jericho?

“[____]?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your lover's voice. Looking up, you saw him smiling at you with admiration and a hint of amusement in his eyes. His arm was propped up on the table, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“What are you thinking about, Love?”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. You were still crushing on him as hard as on the first day. His words, his voice, his personality, his looks… Everything about him was perfect.

“I'm just… thinking about how lucky I am to be with you.”

A swift look of surprise brushed over Crowe's features before he smiled brighter than before. He reached over the table, taking your hand into his bigger, warmer one. “I am the lucky one, my Starlight.”

Swooning at his words, you realized that he had pretty much ruined you for everyone else, Crowe had you on the hook. You doubted that you could ever love someone like you loved him, but then again, you didn't plan to either.

You gave him a sweet smile and he let go of your hand after a few beats, gesturing for you to fill your plate with the pancakes he had prepared. He did this pretty often, surprising you with self-made breakfast, yet you fell head over heels for him over and over again, no matter how often he did it.

Reaching over with knife and fork, you took two pancakes off the pile, filling your plate with them. As soon as you took a bite you perked up. “Crowe, they taste amazing, did you change the recipe up?”

The pancakes were fluffy and sweet, even sweeter than usually. “Just a tad bit. I know that you have kind of a sweet tooth, so I added a bit more sugar.”

You weren't sure what was sweeter, your boyfriend or the sugar he added.

He was probably sweeter, even though he didn't have much of a sweet tooth himself. That brought up another question, however.

“What about you though? You aren't that fond of too much sugar.”

“I can handle a bit more sweetness in my pancakes. After all, I handle you everyday and you are by far sweeter than any pancake I could ever make.”

You had to suppress a grin at that. He could be so cheesy sometimes.

Time seemed to pass way too fast, it felt like the two of you finished breakfast in no time.

“I'll clean up, you can get ready in the meantime, Darling” Crowe took his and your plate and brought them to the kitchen sink. Thanking him, you stood up and you made your way to your shared bedroom to get dressed. You took a look out the window, snow was painting the world in a pure, innocent shade of white and created a calm, serene image. Perhaps Crowe and you can build a snowman later if you have enough time.

Walking up to the closet, you were pondering on what to wear. Crowe was wearing a purple sweater and black slacks, perhaps you could put on a matching outfit. After all, he loved when the two of you wore matching outfits.

You took a pair of black pants out of your closet, before looking for a purple sweater. You had one, albeit the color being a bit lighter, it would have to do.

The colors purple and blue had a special spot in your heart, every time you saw them, you were reminded of Crowe.

He was everywhere, his essence in everything.

The night sky, the ocean, the flowers in your garden during the warmer seasons and the bouquet he gave you this morning, even in your closet you found these colors more present than before.

You walked into the narrow hallway, painted dark red with a birch wood floor, to see Crowe was already putting on his shoes, sitting on the bench near the door. As soon as he was finished and laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I feel like I have seen that outfit before somewhere…” He walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. “I love you so much, you know that?” He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead, before wrapping both arms around you in a loving embrace. “I love you too, Jericho… More than words can ever describe…”

Crowe pulled back to look at you and raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking over the soft skin. Before you met him, you didn't know that it was humanly possible to look at someone the way he looked at you, but he proved to you that it indeed was possible and even if it wasn't, he would make it possible.

His bright blue eyes were filled with so much love, you couldn't begin to comprehend just how much love he felt for you.

Your face was gently pulled closer to his by the hand holding your cheek, his own face moving closer at the same time, before your lips met in a sweet kiss. It was an attempt at expressing your feelings for each other, but this universal act of love could only scratch the surface of what truly laid beneath your exteriors. Beneath all that skin, bone and flesh laid a love so profound, it almost made your hearts burst.

Crowe pulled back eventually, but you didn't leave his embrace without him planting another kiss on your forehead. He turned to take your black coat off the hanger and helped you put it on in his usual gentleman-like fashion. While he was looking for something in the hallway's dresser you were putting on your boots. The coat you were currently wearing matched his perfectly well, only your boots weren't matching - his being dark brown and yours being black - but you weren't going to nit-pick every small detail. Crowe stood in front of you again, a purple scarf in his hands. “It's cold outside, my Love, you'll need this.” His voice was as soft and caring as always, while he gently wrapped the scarf around your neck.

Opening the front door, Crowe gestured for you to walk outside before him. He followed close behind, taking your hand in his as he left the house with you and closed the door behind him. As you made your way towards the shopping center, the snow crunched under your boots, accentuating every step.

Despite the thick clothes you were wearing, which engulfed you in a comfortable warmth, the cool december breeze made you shiver. The coldness was slowly biting away at your skin and you tried your best to bury your face in your scarf, though it didn’t help with warming your face as much as you had hoped. Crowe squeezed your hand at this, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry, my Love, we'll be there in no time.”

The walk to the shopping center was peaceful, you walked by multiple groups of children who were building a snowman or having snowball fights. Looking around, you found everything to be covered in thick, white snow, giving the usually dull surroundings an almost magical feeling. It might be cold right now, but at least it was beautiful outside.

The mall wasn’t too far either, luckily. In this type of weather it was going to take around fifteen minutes to reach it, which felt like fifteen seconds in Crowe’s presence. That was one of the many things you loved about him. Any task, any situation, no matter how daunting or boring they may be, they seemed way easier to conquer with Crowe by your side.

The mall was bustling with life, chatter and laughter everywhere. Christmas tunes played from every corner and matching decorations were hung up everywhere. However, the highlight was the 30 feet tall christmas tree in the middle of the mall, cladded with different types of ornaments, ranging from fairy lights and tinsel to brightly colored baubles and little angels hanging from the branches.

“Whose present should we get first?”

You pondered for a moment at Crowe's question, “Jess. I already have something for her.”

Crowe quirked his eyebrow at that. “Lead the way then.”

You tugged Crowe along with you, leading him to a record store. “You know how Jess is absolutely obsessed with Eries, right?”, You looked up at him, feeling a little silly for asking this as you realized that he obviously knows, since he was the one who told you that information in the first place, “Of course you do…Anyways, I was thinking about getting her a vinyl record.”

“Does she even have a record player?”

You shook your head, “Nope, but knowing her, she wouldn’t play the record anyways, however, she would hang it up on the wall for everyone to see, just like her other prized possessions.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t have it already though? She’s one of his biggest fans after all, I kind of doubt that she doesn’t have all his merchandise by now.” Crowe’s question was a valid one, you haven’t told him that piece of information yet, since it was more of an impulsive decision. “I know that she doesn’t have it, she told me herself. See, we were talking about this special edition record of Eries newest album coming out and when the presale was happening, she didn’t manage to get a copy. I, however, did.”

Crowe furrowed his eyebrows at your explanation, still not getting the full picture, “Why did you try to obtain a copy in the first place? As far as I know, you’re not one of his fangirls.”

“Well, I thought it would make a nice present if she didn’t manage to get a copy. And if she had managed to get a copy I would have given it to another friend of mine, who likes Eries as well, but isn’t big enough of a fan to buy limited edition stuff.”

“You had a full-on masterplan, huh?”

You nodded eagerly at his reply, “All that’s left to do is to pick up the copy from the record shop.”

Tugging your boyfriend through the crowd, you weasel your way towards the record store. As soon as you arrived you were met with seemingly endless rows of shelves, packed to the brim with colorful records and the speakers faintly playing a Christmas song.

“By the way, how much was that record?”

You gave Crowe a side-eye, before averting your gaze as you walked towards the register. “Way too much…”, you muttered under your breath before clearing your throat. “But Jess is an amazing friend…I’m sure she’ll love this present!”

Crowe shook his head in disbelief with an airy laugh, “I’m sure she will, but I would still like to know how much that record was, you know? After all, we did agree on splitting the costs for the presents in half.”

You mumbled a response under your breath, incoherent to Crowe’s ears. When he asked again, your response was still quiet, but he heard your answer at last, “Sixty-five bucks…”

Crowe’s bright blue eyes widened a little in surprise, which is why you decided to quickly reassure him, “I know it’s a lot, that’s why the record will be on me, you don’t have to pay half the price-”

“Nonsense, I’ll pay half the price, just like we agreed, don’t worry about it, my Love” He cut you off, holding his hand up in the air to stop your rambling. You gave him a soft smile, your face a little flushed as you muttered a small “Thank you”, fully aware that debating with him on this matter will get you nowhere.

After informing the employee at the register about the order you wanted to pick up, he went to the back and swiftly returned with it, handing the record to you with a sweet smile.

Crowe wrapped his arm around your waist, an innocent gesture, though a hint of jealousy laced it. You were his partner after all, he should -and would- let the whole world know how lucky he got, even if this poor employee probably didn’t have any ulterior motives behind his smile and wave good-bye.

“How about we get Brittney’s present next?” Crowe asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you made your way out of the record store. You nodded, thinking back to all the times Brit told you something related to her interests.

“Do you already have something in mind?”, Crowe asked as he scanned your contemplating expression. You slowly nodded, “Yeah… she mentioned something about this skin care set she thought about getting. It’s a bit pricey, though…”

Crowe smiled softly at you, letting go of your hand and stroking the back of your head softly. “Don’t worry about it, my Love. If something is out of your budget I don’t mind paying more than half the price or entirely for the present.”

Your head snapped towards him as you immediately protested, “No way in hell am I gonna let you pay for everything yourself, that wouldn’t be fair at all!”

Your boyfriend could only chuckle in response, shaking his head lightly, “Whatever you say, Love…”

The two of you made your way towards the mall’s beauty store, Crowe’s hand tightly holding your own, almost as if he was afraid you would be swept away by the crowd of people present. It didn’t take long for you to find the skin care set Brittney told you about, despite the shelves being lined with all kinds of beauty products, ranging from perfume to high-end makeup products. Albeit the fairly high price the set was almost sold out and you barely managed to grab one of the last boxes.

The store was filled to the brim with teenage girls and husbands with their wives, all of them trying to find last minute presents for their loved ones. Thus, Crowe and you had to wait quite some time at the register, however, time always seemed to pass in the blink of an eye whenever he was with you.

“By the way, what should we get Deryl?”

You looked up at Crowe, waiting for a response as he pondered for a moment.

“Well, he loves football and sweets… though I believe you know as much about football as I do, which is practically nothing at all.”, Crowe chuckled slightly and of course he was right, both of you barely had any knowledge about football.

“Then sweets it is, we just have to hope that he eats them in private and not at the party, unless we want him bouncing off the walls-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as an idea hit you, “How about one of these international sweets boxes? As far as I know there is a shop here which sells sweets from all around the world. I believe that would make a great present for Deryl!”

Your boyfriend smiled gently at you as he responded, “Great thinking, let’s go there once we’re finished here.”

Crowe and you checked out at the register and made your way towards the sweets store shortly after.

The sweets store was probably the most colorful shop in the entire shopping center, the walls were painted in bright colors and even the tiles on the floor were practically glowing in neon hues. The shelves were lined with all kinds of sweets, all of them wrapped in bright packaging and sorted into different aisles depending on which country they’re from.

“Is there anything specific Deryl likes?” Crowe shook his head in response, thus you took it upon yourself to search for tasty-looking sweets, hooking a shopping basket on your arm.

You were able to fill the basket in no time with all different types of sweets; savory ones, sour ones and just classical sweet ones.

“Those are quite a lot of sweets… it might be better to give him this when we are about to leave…”

You raised an eyebrow at Crowe’s suggestion, “And leave the others with the mess of a Deryl who is high on sugar?”

He smirked smugly at you in reply and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

The two of you wrapped up at the sweets store not long after, walking out with two shopping bags in your right hand, one containing Brittney’s and one Jess’ present, and a big box of sweets for Deryl tucked away under Crowe’s left arm.

“We still need to get a present for Geo, do you have any idea what we could get him? It’s not like that guy is an open book when it comes to anything regarding him personally…”

“I already have something in mind for Geo, don’t worry.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise at Crowe’s declaration.

“Follow me.”, He took your free hand in his, making his way through the crowd and leading you to the mall’s exit.

Curious as to where Crowe was taking you, you couldn’t help but ask him, “Where are we going, Crowe?”

“To the box office, it’s on the way home anyways.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, but decided not to dwell on it. You would see what Crowe is up to soon enough, since the box office was pretty close to the mall.

As you left the shopping center, the coldness engulfed you in an icy embrace, stinging at your flesh. You immediately missed the comforting warmth of the shopping center, even if the atmosphere was chaotic. The only source of warmth you now had were your thick clothes and the warmth of your boyfriend’s soft hand, but all this didn’t do much to keep you from shivering.

After what felt like an eternity out in the harsh coldness of December, you finally reached the box office.

Crowe leant a little towards the cashier as he spoke his request, “I’d like to buy a gift voucher for 75 dollars, please.”

You lifted your eyebrows up slightly, before nudging him softly with your elbow while the employee was preparing the voucher. “I would have thought that you were gonna give him a present that’s more… personal.” Crowe looked at you for a moment, processing your words.

“Well, he’s not the type to be against vouchers as a gift, in fact, he thinks it’s the best type of present to give to someone; if it’s required to give them something, that is.”

“I guess that makes sense for him… he doesn’t seem like the type to give others personalized presents… or any at all, to be honest…”

Crowe couldn’t help but chuckle at your reply, “Yeah, he finds it to be the most practical type of present and I am not going to disagree with him on that, I get where he’s coming from.”

You nodded in silent agreement as the employee finished wrapping up the voucher, handing it to Crowe, who gave him the required amount of cash in exchange, before bidding goodbye and putting the envelope containing the voucher into one of the bags you were carrying.

“What time is it?”

Crowe took a look at the watch on his wrist, “1 pm. The party starts at 4.30, therefore we still have some time to get everything ready.”

Your boyfriend gave your hand a small squeeze and smiled warmly at you. This was almost enough to make you forget about the crisp cold air surrounding you, emphasis on almost. You were walking at a faster pace than usually, desperate to get home as quickly as possible.

Luckily, you soon saw the row houses on your street, one of them being the one you and Crowe resided in. The two of you moved in together after a year of dating, deeming it safer for the both of you - well, mostly for you. He insisted that you move into the townhouse he rented with him, considering it a safer option than the apartment you previously called your home. Of course, he was right, this part of town was much safer and if something were to happen, he would be there to protect you.

The houses were made of brownstone and not much bigger than your old apartment, though it was still nice to have a bit more space available, not to mention the tiny garden at the back - something your previous home lacked entirely.

Speed-walking towards the dark green front door, you ushered Crowe to unlock the door, who chuckled in response to your antics. What may have been annoying to anyone else, he found endearing. To him, you could hardly do any wrong, you were perfect, perfect for him.

You were greeted by the familiar smell of your home and the comforting warmth it provided. Taking off your boots and coat you turned to face Crowe, “Ready to bake some cookies?”

The kitchen was small, but it was big enough for the two of you. The counter, made of ebony and an oak countertop, formed a U-shape, lining all walls except for the one with the door. A big window overlooking the garden was above the kitchen sink and opposite of the door. Some potted plants hung from the ceiling, giving the room a rural feeling.

You walked to the kitchen cabinet and whipped out every required ingredient and equipment.

“Did you decide on which type of cookies we are baking?” Crowe entered the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his toned lower arms.

“I was thinking we could bake some good old chocolate chip cookies, how does that sound?”

Crowe cracked a grin at that. Chocolate chips were his favourite and you knew that all too well.

“I’m definitely not opposed to that suggestion.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Of course you are not.”

You ordered Crowe to weigh the ingredients while you took care of mixing everything, the dough soon being finished. The moment you turned your back to grab a scissor for the package of chocolate chunks, Crowe grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer and tried some of the cookie dough.

“No snacking on the cookie dough, Crowe.”, you turned around to find your boyfriend frowning at you, causing a little laugh of yours to break free.

“Mind you, I was taste-testing.”

You shook your head at his answer, but at the same time you were endeared. Crowe was usually this composed, mature gentleman, but around you he could unleash a more childish side of him, one he didn’t show anyone else. Coming from him, this was a huge sign of trust, a privilege he didn't grant just anyone.

Right after you mixed the chocolate chunks into the cookie dough, you took small scoops and placed them onto the tray Crowe got ready for you. Once you were finished with placing small piles of dough, your boyfriend took the tray from you and put it in the oven.

“Now that the cookies are in the oven, what should we do in the meantime? Wrap the presents?” Crowe asked while wiping the surface of the countertop with a wet cloth. You pondered for a moment, recalling the children you saw on your way to the mall and pointed towards the window overlooking the garden

“I have a better idea… See all that snow? How about we build a snowman?”

Looking at him, your eyes glistened with hope and he smiled brightly at you, an indescribable amount of love in his gaze.

You definitely were perfect for him.

“Of course we can, Love, but weren’t you the one freezing outside earlier today?”

He just couldn’t help but tease you a little every now and then.

“That was different. I can handle the coldness if it means I get to feel like a kid again.”, you argued, a lop-sided smile gracing your features.

“Touché.”

With a pep in your step you went back into the hallway to grab both of your boots and coats, along with a pair of gloves for each of you. You swiftly returned to the kitchen and walked through the doorway into the living room, straight towards the back door, handing Crowe his clothes, before putting on your own coat and boots.

No five minutes later were the two of you out in the freezing cold. You already got to work, making a little snowball and rolling it around on the ground, your gloves doing very little to keep the snow’s iciness away from your skin, though you couldn’t care less right now.

The garden was small, surrounded by high bushes, which were painted white by the snow just like the ground was. The big apple tree at the very back already lost all its leaves weeks ago and the flowers you usually kept were long gone.

Crowe joined you, rolling his own snowball on the ground and turning to you for a moment, “I take it that you want to be in charge of the big snowball at the bottom?”

Looking over at him with a smile you nod eagerly, earning you his warm signature smile in return.

The two of you kept rolling the snowballs around, which were getting bigger and bigger by the minute, until they finally had a size you were satisfied with. Crowe placed his slightly smaller snowball on your bigger one, going off to find some sticks to use as arms right after while you were busy making the head. Once you were finished and placed the third and smallest snowball on top of the other two, Crowe returned with some sticks and a couple of small rocks.

Handing you the two biggest sticks, you took them and placed one on either side of the snowmans upper body and some smaller branches on the top of his head. You took three small stones out of Crowe’s palm and placed them in a vertical row on the snowman's upper body.

“By the way, do we have a carrot laying around?”

“I think so… let me take a look.” Crowe handed you the rocks and turned around, walking back inside. In the meantime, you took two rocks and placed them where you thought the snowman's eyes might be and used the leftover stones to give the snowman a smile. Crowe eventually returned, a carrot in his hand. “There you go, finish the job.”

You side-eyed him, processing his words, “You’re saying this as if I’m assassinating this poor snowman…”

Your boyfriend chuckled in response as you added the final detail to your snowman.

Suddenly, an alarm went off.

“Ah! The cookies are ready. Just in time…” Crowe turned off the alarm on his phone and took your hand in his as the two of you made your way back inside.

Once back in the kitchen, the two of you took off your boots, coats and gloves. Crowe took out the tray with cookies while you carried the clothes back into the hallway, hanging the coats back on their hangers, placing the boots on the mat next to the front door and the gloves back into the dresser.

The smell of fresh cookies invaded your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering, causing you to swiftly return to the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here!” You entered the kitchen, causing Crowe to turn away from you quickly, making you stop in your tracks, “Wait… are you eating one of the cookies?”

“...No…” Crowe was trying his best to not sound like he was talking with a full mouth, but failed miserably.

“You are!” You could hear Crowe swallowing before turning back to face you, trying to defend himself, “I had to do a taste test…”

You take one cookie from the tray, studying it a little. Judging by the looks of it, those cookies turned out amazing.

“Firstly, you already did one with the raw cookie dough and secondly, I highly doubt that one was necessary…Though, I might do one as well. You know, two tongues can taste more than one, or something like that.” Putting the cookie in your mouth, you can almost hear your taste buds singing Hallelujah, your eyes widening as you let the warm, sweet taste of chocolate chip melt on your tongue.

“Oh my…these cookies are perfect!”

Crowe nodded in agreement with a grin on his face as he watched your fond expression, before looking at his watch, “It’s 2.20 pm, we have about two hours until the party, any ideas what should we do until then?”

You thought for a moment before a smug smirk crawled onto your face.

“Don’t tell me-”

You cut off your boyfriend, “Let’s watch a Christmas movie!”

“We still need to wrap the presents, my Love” , Crowe pointed out, but you quickly shot down his argument.

“We can do that while watching the movie. It’s not like we have tons of presents to wrap anyways.”

Crowe sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, though more in a playful fashion, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, let’s watch a Christmas movie then.”

You immediately made your way towards the living room, the walls were painted a light blue shade and lined with tons of shelves, the floor was birch wood, just like the hallway. Sitting down on the soft, dark blue couch and grabbing the remote, you made yourself comfortable, nuzzling against one of the couch’s cushions. While you were busy picking out a movie, Crowe grabbed some wrapping paper, as well as the presents for your friends, and carried them towards the living room, setting everything down on the oak coffee table in front of the couch.

He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer as you put on your favorite christmas movie. You shuffled closer to him, basking in the warmth Crowe radiated, not just emotionally but also physically. No matter how tough times might get, next to him any problem ceased to exist, if only for the moment and you could swear your love for him was growing more and more the longer you were together.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight, looking forward to spending time with all the people who grew on you so much during your years at university.

Were you to look out the window, you’d catch the snowman smiling at you, the snow which was currently falling from the sky accumulating on his carrot nose.

Everything was perfect, you were exactly where you were always meant to be and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 47

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,370ish

Summary: Logan gives his all in one final fight.

Warning(s):  canon violence, injuries, character death(s)

Notes: I'm actually so scared that this chapter will flop because I'm an over thinker... Also, I posted a new Everyday Moments one shot! Check it out here!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Dr. Rice ran other drone over what he believed was the abandoned base. Just to make sure that no one was left behind as he continued up the mountain, chasing after the kids. His screen beeped as the drone found a sign of life. Dr. Rice smirked as he picked up his radio.

“I need the last car to turn around,” he ordered. “Make sure you have a glass case. The X-Men, Ember, is back at their little hide out. Grab her and bring her to me.”

~~~

You woke up when one of the stairs creaked. Your senses were immediately on edge. Logan wasn’t lying with you and there were more slow and heavy footsteps than his. You peeked eye open to see black boots coming to surround you. Your heart began hammering in your chest. Where was Logan? Did they do something to him?

You heard the guns cock and you knew that they were going to try to take you. You weren’t about to let that happen. Before anyone could shoot, you formed a circle of fire around yourself, making sure the flames were taller than the men. They exclaimed as they stumbled back.

Your flames quickly ate the old wood floor, causing you and the men to go falling to the desert ground. You picked yourself up and blasted the men with more flames before running off. You noticed the military truck and ran over to it. It didn’t pass you that your body was already more tired than usual after using your mutation. But that wasn’t something you had time to deal with right now.

The radio was going off about the kids that were trying to get to the border and to stop them before they did. That’s when you knew where Logan had ran off to. He left you to go help the kids—to go help Laura. Though you were furious at him for leaving you, you were proud of him for rushing to save his daughter.

Before you could drive off to help the others, two darts hit your arm. You gasped as your eyes fluttered close and you collapsed against the seats. The remaining soldier limped over and grabbed the radio.

“Dr. Rice,” he called, “I’ve got Ember and I’m bringing her up.”

~~~

Laura didn’t know how to deal with saying goodbye to you and Logan. So she didn’t. Though, as her and the other children were running away from the soldiers through the woods, she wished she had. The soldiers attacked as they chased the children and the children used their mutations to retaliate. Rictor, the oldest and the leader, urged the children to keep running to the border. It was the only way to freedom.

As Laura ran, she noticed one of her friends being tackled by a soldier. She released her claws and screamed, jumping onto the soldier. The soldier rolled off the other child as Laura plunged her claws into him. The familiar sound of Logan yelling at her turning her head back in the direction they came. Up the hill came Logan, moving faster than he had in years. He roared as he unsheathed his claws and began taking out soldiers. The Wolverine spun and leaped like he did in battles years ago.

Logan continued to fight his way through the soldiers, eventually reaching a circle of them that had surrounded Laura. He yelled as he raced for the nearest soldier and began taking them out. Laura leapt into action, using her claws just as her father did. More soldiers came towards them, shooting. 

“Get behind me!” Logan ordered. Laura moved behind him without question.

Bullets hit Logan as he charged forward, Laura only steps behind. He plunged his claws into the soldiers, quickly ending their lives. Laura ran up Logan’s back and jumped onto a soldier, willingly fighting alongside her father. After the group of soldiers were finished, Logan looked down at his bleeding woods with heaving breaths.

“You took all the medicine,” Laura stated upon realization. Logan was killing himself quicker to ensure her safety. Logan leaned forward as he gasped for more air, the pain coming back. “It’s wearing off.”

Logan ignored Laura as he took one of the guns and stumbled up the mountain to a clearing where the trucks had gathered and the captured children were circled up. Laura and him watched as another truck joined them. Logan’s heart stopped as the bed of the truck was opened and he caught sight of you.

“No,” he breathed out. 

He had left you for your safety and so that you didn’t have to see him like this. But he had only failed you yet again. He clenched his jaw as he eyes searched the area, coming up with a plan.

“Go to your friends,” he told Laura. She made no immediate move to go, simply staring at him. “Go.” Laura began walking away. “Laura?” She paused, glancing back at Logan. “You’ll know when.”

Laura rushed off, heading around the trucks towards her friends. Logan coughed as he gathered his remaining strength and limped into the clearing.

“Nine o’clock!” A soldier announced. The soldiers aimed their weapons at Logan.

Donald Pierce, Dr. Rice’s right hand, laughed. “That green juice is wearing’ off, huh?” He taunted. “You know, for an old mute, it’s kind of a short high. Be hard to keep them claws out, soon.”

“Please stop, Mr. Howlett,” Dr. Rice requested as he came walking over. “I’m gonna have to tell these men to fire on these children. You don’t want that… Or on your wife.”

You gasped as you were harshly grabbed and dragged over to Dr. Rice’s side. Logan growled, fists clenched harder as he watched them move you around like a rag doll.

“She’s a special one… Rare,” Dr. Rice continued. “But I think you know that. Her regenerative phoenix mutation could be the next step in my research.” Logan coughed, growing weaker by the second. “You can see the effects of the serum are wearing off. You will not survive further wounds.” Dr. Rice stepped closer. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Zander Rice. I believe you knew my father on the Weapon X Program.”

“Yeah,” Logan coughed. “He’s one of the assholes who put this poison in me…” He lifted his claws up. “I think I might have killed him.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Why don’t you show some respect, mutie?” Donald teased. “You’re lookin’ at the man who wiped out your kind.”

“My friend Donald overstates. He makes it sound more brutal than intended. The goal was not to end mutant kind, but to control it. I realized we needn’t stop perfecting what we eat and drink. That we could use those products to perfect ourselves. To distribute gene therapy discreetly through everything from sweet drinks to breakfast cereals. And it worked. Random mutancy went the way of polio. We embarked on our next endeavor.”

“Growing mutants of your own,” Logan wheezed.

“Precisely.”

“Dangerous times, James,” Donald commented.

“You don’t get to call him that!” You shouted, earning you a hit to the face.

Logan lifted the hidden gun and shot Dr. Rice through the neck. He shot again, hitting Donald’s hand. You screamed out as you let your hands be covered in balls of flames. You began attacking with your flames as Laura jumped in and Logan chased after Donald. Donald ran over to one of the trucks and opened up the back of it.

“It’s show time, boy!” He exclaimed.

Logan’s duplicate leapt out and tackled Logan to the ground. The two began fighting as you continued to take care of the soldiers. Laura snuck around and got the soldiers on the edge while you took care of the ones in the middle. You stood there catching your breath when Logan’s duplicate plunged its claws into Logan and threw him against one of the trucks.

“Logan!” You screamed.

The copy rushed over to Logan, with Logan barely having enough time to use one of the broken truck doors as a shield. He stood up, using the door as a weapon, as you got back to taking out the soldiers. The duplicate roared as it gained more strength to fight. It kicked the door, sending Logan flying back. You ran up to the duplicate and began throwing fire at it. The copy moved through your flames like it wasn’t a problem. It went to strike you with its claws when Laura screamed and jumped onto it.

“Laura!” You shouted. “No!”

Donald grabbed a spear gun and shot it in your direction. It went through your leg, causing you to collapse with a scream.

“Y/N!” Logan groaned crawling your way.

Laura yelled as she landed on top of the duplicate and hit him with her claws over and over again. Logan made it over to you and cut the wire connecting you and the spear to the gun. He pulled you into him and grasped onto the spear.

“I got you, baby,” he wheezed. “It’s gonna hurt.” He yanked out the spear, causing you to cry out. He pressed a kiss to your head as you leaned further back into him.

Laura continued to fight off Logan’s duplicate as the children freed themselves and dealt with Donald and the remaining soldiers. The copy tossed Laura into a tree before Rictor used his powers to land one of the trucks on top of it. 

“Go,” Logan coughed, pulling you up to stand. “Go, go, go!” 

He pushed you and Laura towards the others near the tree line. You and Logan turned around as you heard creaking from the truck.

“Go!” Logan yelled, pushing you away.

The copy leapt over the truck and buried its claws into Logan. The children began rushing towards the woods again, with you and Laura staying put.

“No!” You screamed.

“Go!” Logan shouted, blood coating his mouth. “Run!”

Keeping its claws inside of Logan, the duplicate dragged Logan away. You rushed forward to do something, but the duplicate easily hit you away, causing you to fall back to the ground. 

“Run!” Logan repeated, his voice pleading with you to go as he was dragged away. “Go, sweetheart!”

The duplicate threw Logan onto a tree, causing him to be impaled by one of the branches.

“JAMES!” You screamed. 

Your emotions took control of your powers and a large flames sparked from you and rushed over to Logan and his duplicate. The copy was engulfed by the flames, causing him to stumble back. The flames grew hotter as you stood up, your finger-tips flaming. With a subtle move of your fingers, the duplicate was turned to ash and the fire disappeared. You fell to your knees, gasping as that had quickly drained your energy. Laura raced over to your side, helping you up and over to Logan.

“No, no, no,” you cried as you collapsed next to him. Tears fell freely down your cheeks as your hands hovered over his body. 

Laura went on Logan’s other side and used her claws to cut the branch that was impaling Logan, allowing him to slide to the ground. Your hands trembled as you reached out and steadied him while Laura knelt down and began crying too. 

“Take Laura,” he gasped. “Take Laura… and her friends… and hide.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I—I can’t. Not without you.”

“They’ll keep coming, sweetheart. You have to.”

“No… James…”

His hand weakly moved and you quickly grabbed onto it. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I wish I could have done better… for you…”

“Stop that. You were perfectly enough… everything I needed and more… I love you, James, so much.”

“I… I love you forever, sweetheart… Forever… Listen,” Laura grabbed Logan’s other hand as he tried to hold hers, “take care of each other… you… you don’t have to fight anymore… Either of you… Go… Don’t be what they made you… Y/N… Laura…”

“Daddy,” Laura cried.

“Ah,” Logan smiled, bloody and broken, “so… this is what it feels… like….” 

A sob tore through you as Logan took his final breath.

“No! No!” Laura cried. “Daddy! Daddy!”

You fell forward, not caring about his blood as you clung to him as if it would fix everything. The children came back into as you sobbed into your husband’s dead body. Laura reached over Logan to grab onto you as she mirrored your actions.

~~~

In all your long life, you had never fell a heartbreak like this. It was raw and desperate, clawing at you as it threatened to drag you down into the pit of darkness. Laura was clutching your hand as you stared at the spot where Logan’s body now lay. It was killing you inside. 

The Wolverine was dead and buried in a soon to be forgotten spot in the woods. He deserved better. Especially as he was your husband, you believed he deserved the world, even in death. The pile of rocks and the stick cross did not do enough to honor the man you loved. Your everything. Your hero.

Laura’s hand gripped yours tighter as tears slipped down her cheeks and you held back another sob. You knew you needed to continue on with Laura, it’s what Logan wanted. But you didn’t know if you could do that. You didn’t know if you could leave his body here alone while you went on to live the rest of your life. You didn’t even know if you could live the rest of your life without him. This would be different than any other time before. This was permanent.

“Let’s go,” Rictor said. “We gotta move.”

The children turned away and began to walk off. Laura moved forward slowly, leading for you to follow. She let your hand go and grabbed the stick cross. She knelt down and turned in over to be an ‘x’. You inhaled sharply at the significance of it. Laura stood up and looked at you for a sign of anything. You nodded as more tears slipped down your cheeks. You reached for her hand again, giving the grave one last glance before you and Laura headed for the border.

next chapter >

[tkwrites]

Split & Healed - A snapshot in two parts - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Split & Healed - a Snapshot in two parts - Part 1 

Part 2

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: talks of Quinns lip injury; hurt/comfort

Summary: Sarah's reaction when Quinn's lip was split.

Word count: 1,800

Anonymous asked: The commentators mentioned Quinn is still struggling to speak with that monster of a split lip. How was Sarah's reaction? Was she there? Does he catch her just staring at him with pity throughout the day because like same 😫

Comments: Nonnie, you sent this in and I had an immediate vision of Sarah putting ointment on Quinns mouth, so I had to write it out. And the actual wounding. 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Split & Healed - a Snapshot in two parts - Part 1 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

She was there. It happened, and she was immediately up, pacing back and forth in the family and friends box, clinging to her phone as she waited to hear from him. 

When five minutes went by without any word, she sent him a message, hoping to break the tension as well as get an update: If he broke your nose, I swear to God, I’m going to kill him. 

Quinn snorted before responding, my nose is fine. My lip is another story. 

What happened? 

His stick caught me just right and busted through my lip and some of my gums. Have to get stitches. 

Through? 

A gruesome selfie popped up on her screen and she yelped as her phone flew out of her hand.

“What’s wrong?” Bella asked, running to her side. 

Sarah grimaced, “Quinn just sent me a picture of his lip.”

“Really,” Bella reached to pick it up.

“You don’t want to see, I promise.” 

Bella turned the device over anyway, and turned a delicate shade of green. “Oh, gross.” 

“I did try to warn you,” Sarah said as she took the phone back and clicked out of the image so she could respond.

Oh my god, warn a girl!

Quinn chuckled and was immediately reprimanded by the doctor currently stitching his lip. He went still and tried not to think too much about what was happening on the ice without him. 

Even seeing his picture of the gash – which she was pretty certain she could have seen his teeth through if the blood was mopped up and he moved just right – didn’t prepare her for seeing him that night when he got home after the game.

He slumped into the apartment, holding a towel wrapped ice pack to his mouth. 

“Hey,” she said tentatively, setting her book aside and standing to greet him.  

“Hey,” he echoed morosely. 

“Can I see?” she asked, reaching up to take his wrist. 

Quinn felt a pained expression flash over his face. Not because it was hurting. They’d numbed his whole lip so they could put the stitches in without any pain and so he could keep playing, but it looked awful. Even though he’d washed the blood off in his post game shower, the wound looked almost worse now that some swelling had set in. 

“It’s okay,” she promised, nudging his hand down.

Quinn watched her face as he lowered the ice pack. 

“Oh, Quinn.” 

He’d expected her to wince, and instead she was looking at him with all this deep pity in her eyes. He couldn’t decide which was worse. 

“Is it still numb?” she asked, stopping her hand in midair as it instinctively reached up to touch it. 

He nodded. “Doc said –” he broke off, wincing at his voice. It was like getting out of the dentist in the worst way. Not only was his lip numb, it was swollen, and wouldn’t do anything he wanted it to, making talking normally impossible. 

“Doc said,” she prompted, ignoring the lisp. If she were in his shoes, she’d hate people reacting to it. 

“Said I should ice it,” he said, gesturing with the pack, “help the swelling.” 

“Makes sense.” 

He sighed heavily. 

“Can I get you anything?” she asked as he brought the ice pack up to his mouth again. 

He shrugged, that morose look back on his face..

“What would make you feel better?” she tried again. 

When he shrugged again, she figured she needed to take matters into her own hands. “Do you want to cuddle? I’ll play with your hair.”

Relief crashed through him like a wave. He didn’t have enough energy to make decisions. He was tired - so, so tired - and now he had this stupid busted lip because Hagel couldn’t keep control of his stick. Even though he knew it probably wasn’t intentional, he still wanted to blame him. It was just the perfectly imperfect set of circumstances. Wrong place, wrong time, hit with just the right portion of the stick to do maximum damage. At least they’d gotten the 4 minute power play. 

“Come on,” Sarah said quietly, taking his free hand, “do you want to go to the couch, or bed?” 

“Bed.” 

She led him up the stairs, and after asking if he wanted to change, pulled out pajamas for them. Once they settled into the sheets and she turned on a baking show for them to watch, he rested his ear on her chest, calmed instantly by the steady, familiar beat of her heart. 

Her fingers found their way into his hair, and his eyes fluttered closed.  It was still terrible, this busted lip, but at least she was here, and still loved him enough to hold him and play with his hair. 

Several days later, as they were snuggled up on the lucky couch reading, he snuffed out a frustrated noise as he tried to get more comfortable.

“What’s up?” she asked as her fingers stilled in their journey down his back. 

“Just hurts,” he mumbled, adjusting again so his head was fully in her lap, and he could look up into her face. 

Glancing down at him, Sarah felt an ache swell in her chest. Not only was he in pain, his perfect, lovely mouth was marred with stitches and swelling. He was still handsome, of course — sort of roguish looking now — but it would take some getting used to. She wondered how badly it would scar. 

“And my lips are dry.” 

They looked dry. He’d been licking them, absentmindedly fiddling the stitches with his tongue.

“Here,” she adjusted slightly.

He huffed, not wanting to move. 

“I’m just going to get you something,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

Reluctantly, he sat up and she stood. 

She was holding a white tube when she came back a few minutes later. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. 

“Aquaphor?” he read. 

“It’s basically fancy vaseline, but it’s really nice at keeping moisture in. I use it on my lips at night in the winter.”

That was good enough for him. 

“Will you do it?” He felt a little silly requesting it of her, but he knew from experience how much lighter her touch could be compared to his own. And quite frankly, he just wanted her to touch him. She’d been incredibly reluctant to kiss him since it happened, and though he was glad she wasn’t running headlong into anything, he wanted to feel her. He finally had time at home and he couldn’t even kiss her because of this fucking lip. It wasn’t even that they spent all their time kissing. They both had busy lives and things they needed to get done, but the fact that he couldn't do it only made the desire stronger.

He should send Hagel a bunch of hyper-realistic fake donuts, or some shit like that — just so he could experience the disappointment of having something delicious dangled in front of him, only to find he couldn’t actually eat it. 

Feeling her touch him wouldn’t be the same, but at least it was something. 

“Sure.” Sarah took the tube back. As she settled next to him, the little lights from the Christmas tree reflected in her eyes making them look starry and magical.

The lid clicked open with a quiet snick. He watched her squeeze some of the thick ointment onto the pad of her index finger. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?” 

When she looked back into his face, she found Quinn watching her intensely. That intensity never failed to awake something within her. She pushed aside the desire that growled to life in her belly and heat that sparked between her legs.

He nodded.

“Ready?” she asked, as she reached out to rest her pinky on the side of his chin for grounding. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to do the bottom or the top first?” 

Eyes darting to hers, he asked, “what?” 

She gave him a mischievous little smile, but her tone was serious. “Should I start with the top lip to get it over with, or ease into it?” 

Disappointment and relief swept through him in equal measure. “Get it over with.” It was always best to get the hard part done first. 

Even though she tried to keep her touch as gentle as possible when she spread the salve onto his lip, he still flinched. 

“It’s okay,” he assured, reaching up to keep her from pulling her hand away, “just a reflex.” 

He intentionally bit back a wince as he lisped over the words, worried she would think it was a response to something she was doing. Trying to figure out how to talk when half of his lip was unnaturally stiff was no cake walk. He hated the way it changed his speech. 

She started again, and he held himself still. 

Watching her do this, let alone feeling it, soothed him and also awoke something primal in Quinn. Letting his eyes wander down to her mouth, he couldn’t stop thinking about the pleasured noises he could pull from it when he went down on her. Another thing he likely wouldn’t be able to do until the damn thing had healed more. 

He wished his mind would stop conjuring up images of everything he wanted to do, but couldn’t because of this stupid injury. 

“Better?” she asked, pulling her hand away. 

He nodded. “Still want to kiss you,” he mumbled. 

“I know, Quinny. I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, either.” 

A frustrated noise huffed out of his nose. “You’re not helping.” 

She smiled, “maybe we can try…” Leaning in, she pressed a gentle kiss to his bottom lip, doing her best to avoid causing any pain. 

He still let out a hissed kind of whine.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, pulling back abruptly. 

“It’s just tender,” he sighed, a dark edge of defeat in his voice. “This fucking sucks. I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“I know the feeling,” she said, eyes straying down to the dark stitches again. 

Quinn took a measure of comfort in the fact that she, at least, was feeling the same longing he was as he lay down again, settling his head back into her lap. 

Her fingers ran into his hair again and he sighed. At least there was this. 

Part 2

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[miyamiwu]

When the fuck is everything happening??? In 2018 (S1) or 2019 (Yingdu)?

Picking up from the discussion in the replies under @kuschelkissen’s post...

The year Doudou was kidnapped, Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi spent their summer* break abroad—we now know this trip was to Yingdu.

*Summer months in China are June-August

The kidnapping and the Yingdu trip happened 3 years before the events in season 1, which took place in 2021:

(Date and time on Lu Guang’s watch right before they first dived into the Doudou case: 2021-10-13, 14:30.)

Three years ago would be 2018—which means ShiGuang should’ve already met by then and grown close enough to be on a trip together. But as we’ve seen in YE1, Lu Guang hasn’t moved in with CXS yet by the end of the Anime Con, which was on June 10, 2019:

(Throughout YE1, this is the only frame of Lu Guang’s watch where the year, 2019, is not blurred out)

The Vivian case started right after…which means that ShiGuang establishing their partnership also happened later since that took place afterward. Notably, throughout the Vivian case, the date was never once shown. But it’s safe to assume that it started on the same day/the day after Anime Con.

So, summing it up so far, ShiGuang has not yet met/formed a partnership in 2018, which they should’ve already done to be able to go to Yingdu together, as implied in S1.

I tried to look for frames showing the actual year Doudou was kidnapped, but guess what I found instead:

Translation of relevant part:

He went missing at around 3 pm on 201X, X month, X day.

If the entire date was in Xs, I could’ve just brushed this off as a design choice to show that the actual date doesn’t matter. However, they purposely revealed 3 digits for the year, leaving only the rightmost digit hidden: 201X

The year being 2021 is prominent throughout season 1:

(see date on monitors)

The kidnapping case taking place three years ago was also mentioned several times. Doing the math is easy, so why still hide the 8 in 2018? Why not just have the entire year in Xs to make it uniform with the month and day?

Did the kidnapping and Yingdu trip actually happen in 2018? If yes, then ShiGuang meeting and partnership should’ve happened much earlier. It doesn’t align with what we’ve been shown in YE1 (partnership established some time after June 10, 2019).

There’s still room for the first meeting date actually taking place in 2018, since the year it happened was never shown. We can only infer that it took place on an April 11 from the date on Cheng Xiaoshi’s phone (April 12) and the text he sent (which uses the word ‘tomorrow’):

However, I’m gonna trust the directors’ scene order choices here. Let’s just assume Yingdu Chapter has ShiGuang first meeting on April 11, 2019.

---

I’d like to think the confusion here over 2018 vs 2019 is simply due to an error in the anime. Maybe it’s actually just 2018. Or maybe they decided to change the kidnapping/yingdu trip to two years ago instead of three… But such discrepancy on a deliberate detail seems unlikely, especially for Link Click.

Did something happen that the events (first meeting and partnership establishment) are happening a year later than they’re supposed to be? Could Lu Guang be trying to prevent the Yingdu trip?

(Also, wasn’t it mentioned before that ShiGuang met in high school? Why is Lu Guang already a university freshman in the basketball match in Yingdu??? Why are he and CXS still wearing high school uniforms???)

I don’t know what the fuck is going on anymore

[harmonic-intervention]

You're killing me with chemistry - Chapter 2

Buck knows he’s bi. He knows what he wants. And what he wants, right now, is Tommy. Maybe his hand in marriage, because he’s getting desperate. Because, despite all of his attempts, and all of the positive responses from Tommy, for some reason, Tommy just … doesn’t act on anything.

Tommy knows Evan is straight. He asked both Howie and Hen about it, and he trusts their word on it. It doesn’t stop Evan from pulling him in, and making him fall head over heels for him anyway. Tommy knows better than to fall for a straight guy, he does, but … he can’t change it.

Everything would be easier if they just talked to each other, but where’s the fun in that?

Round 2 of the story based off on this post by @disaster-j After this, we have one more chapter, so I hope you'll like it.

Word count: 11,784 - canon divergence, bi disaster!buck & oblivious!tommy, sexual tension, bit more angst than the first round

Excerpt:

Tommy was in hell.

No other way to put it. He was in hell, and he couldn’t even really blame anyone, because he really should have known better and yet, here he was.

Evan Buckley. Simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened to Tommy. It was the sweetest kind of torture, and Tommy didn’t put an end to it. He could. He couldn’t.

It normally took more for Tommy to find interest in someone. He was a guarded person, cautious. But from the first time they met, Tommy already knew that things were different.

When they got introduced to each other, Evan smiled so brightly it almost blinded Tommy for a moment. He was immediately taken by that gorgeous smile, by those big, sky-blue eyes. By the way that Evan practically fell into Howie’s words, cutting the intended introduction off with, “Evan, Evan Buckley,” as he held his hand out for Tommy to shake.

Tommy couldn’t be distracted that night, so he pushed all thoughts of Evan’s strong grip or pretty face away, spent the night tensed up and trying not to let the others notice how close they actually came to dying several times.

He felt horrible when he had to call it, like he had failed them all. But he really brought it down to the last second, and if they wanted to make it back to shore in one piece, they had to go. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach because he couldn’t deliver what Howie had asked of him, and because he knew once he was back on Californian soil, he’d be out of a job.

He’d risked it all. He’d lied to the fire chief. For nothing.

Only, by some miracle, a flash of red and Evan’s voice brought Tommy out of the downwards spiral of worries for his future before he could even start, and then he was immediately back in professional mode to call the discovery in. And then, they were there, ready to start the rescue before backup arrived.

Tommy had to bring out his best piloting to date, because despite all of the things he’d done, all the maneuvers he’d successfully executed, they were nothing on landing a helicopter on the slippery underside of a capsized cruise ship while it was being pelted by intermittent showers.

He made it. Despite the adrenaline rushing through him, despite his pulse fluttering like a bird under his skin, his hands were steady. There was not a single shake, not a single shiver. They had too much to lose, and Tommy had always been calm under pressure.

Only once they made their last flight to bring Tommy’s former captain and a missing child to safety and Tommy climbed out of the chopper did he allow himself to feel the emotional turmoil of the last couple of hours. His knees shook as he made his way down.

A bit of the residual fear left him as he watched Bobby reunite with his wife. And then, there was a hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head to find Evan there, the start of a smile pulling on his mouth. Tommy couldn’t help the answering grin.

[continue on ao3]