#The poor kid also has guilt wracked

[dapperbasil]

I've got a few (all v20) but if I talked about anyone that's not Tammy that'd be doing her a disservice. Embraced into clan Ventrue for reasons she (nor most people) can't fathom, she's stumbling her way through unlife on just charisma, luck and this Brujah she found.

Currently in the midst of her agoge, she's been sent away from her sire for the first time since her embrace. He's the opposite of her, a perfect fit for the Ventrue embrace, a brilliant, strong willed man who decided he would embrace a girl who no Ventrue in their right mind would pick. Adept at failing upward, its painfully obvious how unready she was and how inept she is, but progress is progress and she sure is trying to make progress.

Ever since arriving in Portland she's found herself at odds with various... things... standing in her way of her true goal of just making it through her test alive and maybe getting the courage to confess her romantic feelings to her sire. From Sabbat attempting to abduct her, Pentex trying to get to her ghoul, fae contracted to kill her by a Tremere, even to hunters rescuing her and believing her to be kine forcing her to go undercover to keep an eye on them, she's had a time of it.

Maybe one day she'll be a Ventrue worth presenting to the board. Maybe even one day she can stand proudly by her sire's side instead of behind him. She doubts it though. (art by @/Mountainashfae!)

now that I’ve gone on a following spree of wod blogs I can start my TRUE evil agenda:

tell me about your wod ocs. that’s an order I want to see them I love love love wod ocs

[yggdraseed]

No, Ochako is not the worst female character in history, that's dumb

I mean what I said. The amount of hate Ochako gets is frankly stupid.

“Oh, buh buh buh, but she didn’t beat Bakugo at the Sports Festival — “ Yeah, and it wasn’t because Ochako’s a girl and Bakugo’s a guy, it’s because Bakugo’s the ace of the whole class. Like it really is just down to Bakugo or Todoroki, and Bakugo beat Todoroki at the Sports Festival. Put Iida in the ring with Bakugo and he’d go down just as hard. Midoriya lost to Bakugo when they fought after the Hero License Exams, and at the time of the Sports Festival, Midoriya didn’t even have Full Cowling.

Like people who claim Horikoshi made Ochako lose because he’s a misogynist need to pull their heads out of their asses and remember that Bakugo is the best combatant in the class that teaches kids to be superheroes and fight crime. Even he acknowledges that if he didn’t take the fight as seriously as he did, Ochako could have taken it.

Do you actually remember that, or are you so cornfed off of social media that your brain’s rotted through the bottom of your skull? The whole crowd is jeering at Bakugo because he didn’t let the cute girl win. He took Ochako seriously as an opponent and showed respect to her by not holding back. To have done otherwise would have been to dismiss her conviction and all the hard work she’d been putting in alongside everyone else. They’re classmates, but they’re competing with each other, too. And it would have been embarrassing to win because the ace of the class took pity on you and folded. Those people who were saying Bakugo should have won were the ones being sexist, because they weren’t taking Ochako seriously. All they saw was a cute face and thought she should get to coast by without being challenged, and that’s sexism.

How about the fact that Ochako’s motivation is to earn money so she can take care of her parents? Like a fundamental part of character writing is to give female characters motivations outside of those originating from their male counterparts. Ochako wants to give back to her parents and is willing to work her ass off to do it. But that never gets brought up.

Or how about the amount of personality she shows? People try to reduce Ochako to some flower on the wall girly-girl even though that’s never been the whole story. Yeah, she has a lot of femininity, she likes pink things. She’s also so used to being poor that she almost seems to take pride in how much she can endure living on a budget, and gets completely blown away at seeing how rich people (or people with a middle class income) get to live. And she’s also a weirdo who talks about “The fated battle between men” or gets hyper pumped up to the point it’s kind of intimidating, about the Sports Festival and after learning self-defense under Gunhead.

And yeah, it’s convenient how often people forget the fact that she identified her weakness in close combat after fighting Bakugo and specifically started learning self-defense martial arts in order to make up for that weakness. She repeatedly uses techniques for safely disarming knife wielding opponents and using judo throws to drop people throughout her appearances in the rest of the series.

People will say, “Oh, but after that, all she cares about is Deku!” No it isn’t, you moron! After Night Eye dies, she’s wracked with guilt, feeling like she should have done more to rescue him. She’s extremely motivated to use her Quirk to rescue people during that portion of the Hero License Exams, since she realized how much good she can do with it, and she continues to apply that during the kickoff to the war arc when the city was left in ruins from Shigaraki and Gigantomachia’s rampage. After Class 1-A brings Deku home to U.A. and Ochako quells the crowd, her arc becomes dominated by atoning for how she rejected Toga without listening to her and putting active compassion into practice.

I believe with all my heart in the supremacy of Togachako, but you know what? Acting like it’s insidious and harmful to depict a girl liking a boy is stupid. Do I want more same-sex pairings? More than you’ll ever know. However, acting like Ochako’s a failure of a character because there’s a boy she likes is stupid. You’re stupid if you believe in that.

And as a matter of fact, I’ll do you one better. Not only does the romance subplot not ruin Ochako’s character, it’s a really well-handled one. Deku ends up getting puppy love when they first meet because he’s a reclusive nerd who’s never talked to a girl outside of “Hey, you, move” and he’s overwhelmed. Then he saves Ochako (and Ochako saves him) during the entrance exam, and going into the Sports Festival, he sees the conviction she has and his very immature, superficial crush grows into one that’s much more informed and based on respect.

This goes both ways. Ochako starts out just seeing Deku as a friend, but after seeing how hard he tries in everything he does, she starts to admire him. Little by little, by and by, this grows into affection and into love. He inspires her to try harder, and she inspires him, too. They start to bring out the best in each other even though they’re a couple of dorks who struggle to open up about these things to each other.

If you call this bad romance writing, then you don’t understand how to write romance. It’s all about the reasons why characters are drawn together, seeing them develop in parallel. All that’s missing is actually getting to see them in a developing relationship, and that’s a problem, yeah, but it’s a problem in 90% of every romance manga. You never get to see the relationship, only the will they-won’t they until the relationship is formed right at the ending.

You wanna see a real shitter of a romance subplot? Here, I’ll show you how to write a real shitter of a romance subplot.

First step, be Masashi Kishimoto. Next, write a female character who only has eyes for her love interest because he’s handsome and have her love interest not even acknowledge her. Have the female character say something stupid and hurtful about another character, then have her love interest express open animosity towards her for saying that. Have her just spin her wheels in the background for a hundred chapters while the men fight, make some half-assed attempts at putting her on equal footing that never amount to anything, have her love interest literally fucking try to kill her and never even apologize for it, have her be obsessed with getting him back anyway, have her tell the main character who’s actually into her that she loves him when she actually doesn’t and is just going through what a middle aged Japanese man thinks women go through in situations like this, and then reward her with getting married to the guy who tried to murder her and never apologized, and then have it turn out that he’s never around for her or her daughter and she just stays at home hoping he’ll come in to acknowledge his own family exists.

Thanks for letting me get that out of my system!

[pendragonsclotpole]

Started season three of Succession. I just need to rant about Kendall Freaking Roy.

For two seasons, I have been rooting for this man. Is he a saint? No. Not at all. Is he a good man? Deep down, I think he might be. Outwardly? No. But he tries, against everything he’s been raised as, he tries. He’s arrogant, a bit of a huge dick to his wife and kids. He’s cringeworthy, he has little to no self-awareness, he thinks he’s better than both of his siblings, and he has no idea how to read a freaking room except in those brief moments of enlightenment when he’s pushed to the brink and has no other choice. Also, he literally almost dies after a night of bad decisions and leaves someone behind to die in a car accident he was responsible for and never owns up to it.

But Kendall Roy, when backed into a corner, should have been the hero—the tragic hero—destined to fuck up by his own flaws and yet meant to still be the one we wanted to see succeed. He murders a guy and we see him wracked with guilt, blackmailed into submission and emotionally abused by his father. There was something here inherently sympathetic about him that superseded the classic “poor little rich boy” narrative and that was after he made a bunch of stupid decisions that led to the death of an innocent guy.

Kendall was a guy who consistently hungered for his father’s praise and who as the firstborn (sorry, second born, but as we all know, Connor Roy has been interested in politics from a very young age) desperately thought and expected he would inherit everything his father had built. Instead, his father strips away from him the chance to own up to his own mistakes for once in his life. I would have loved a storyline where Kendall stays at the scene of the accident, calls the cops, takes responsibility, is so guilty, and used the opportunity to fucking get out of his family’s messed up situation. But no. He stays, he endures, and when he finally breaks free again, it results in this:

A part of me expected Kendall to duck his head in there, with the bathtub full of water, and have a baptism scene that would wipe him of his previous mistakes in a reversal of the accident in the lake. But there was no water. Kendall lays there without getting any absolution and he returns to his old habits.

I don’t know if anyone else has experience with parental figures convinced they know everything and are always right, but if you do, then you know the deepest desire you have as a kid is to both make them proud, tell them to fuck off, build up everything they have, and also destroy it. It’s a paradoxical minefield of love and resentment. You want to wipe away every trace of them to prove you didn’t need them but any failure to do so is taken to be proof that they were right. Kendall’s constant attempts to defeat his father reminded me of that eternal struggle, and his mess ups felt like those lowest of lows. Succession gets so much right about generational trauma, but seeing the amount of arrogance Kendall has in these first episodes kills me on the inside because I just know he’s going to hit a new low and he won’t break free of his father’s hold. He’ll just be stuck in Logan’s grasp forever until Logan dies. It’ll be on Logan’s terms.

[glossglamour]

Transcription of the Full Interview Under Cut

Oscar and Felix, Joey and Chandler, SpongeBob and Patrick. Over the years, television has served up some stupendous "bromances." But it wasn't until a woman got between them last season that we realized how big a man crush Dr. Gregory House (Hugh Laurie) has on his longtime Princeton-Plainsboro colleague, Dr. James Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard). The deeply awkward triangle between House, Wilson and Wilson's girlfriend, Amber (Anne Dudek), unleashed so many sloppy emotions, there was no choice but to kill poor Amber off.

That dying scene, which closed Season 4, was one of Hour's most poignant moments. But because the brilliant curmudgeon had a tangential role in her death, it also sent ripples into this season. House is wracked with guilt. Wilson, still in mourning, wants nothing to do with him. House seems desperate to get his only real friend back, and he's even been fishing pathetically for replacements in other colleagues and the potential Hose spin-off private-eye character, Lucas (Michael Weston).

But as Wilson prepared to leave House's side forever in this season's opening episodes, the chemistry between the doctors remained as charged as any two straight guys could allow it to be. So charged, in fact, we needed to stop by the set to let Laurie and Leonard talk out their feelings about their characters and each other—man-to-man-to-magazine, as it were. On October 14, the death of House's father causes him more angst—and we'll learn how our boys first met. We begin with the foremost question on every House fan's mind.

Gentlemen, can this bromance be saved?

Leonard: [Groans loudly] Is everyone obsessed with homosexuality?

Wait, we weren't suggesting…

Laurie: No, no, let's talk about it. Wilson and House have an unusual relationship so you have to explore all angles. It's not simple buddy- dom. House and Wilson clearly care about each other and even House has joked about it [House once blurted to former girlfriend Stacy (Sela Ward) that being gay would explain a lot about bis own behavior: "No girlfriend, always with Wilson, the obsession with sneakers…."] But, no, I don't think they're….

Leonard: Thank you. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that.

Laurie: I think House and Wilson are closer to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. What was that relationship, after all? Was it a marriage? They weren't just two guys on horses. They couldn't live without each other, that's for sure.

Leonard: I agree. Or look at Cesar Millan and Daddy.

Laurie: I beg your pardon?

Leonard: You know, the Dog Whisperer guy and his pit bull. They have a special bond.

But the question was….

Leonard: Oh, yes, our bromance, can it be saved?

Laurie: To be serious for a moment, I think House is embracing the bromance, actually.

Leonard: Can you be serious and still use the word bromance?

Laurie: Yes, because what we're seeing this season is how vulnerable House really is. I think it's fascinating to watch House pursuing Wilson. He needs him, and I suppose he's revealed himself more than ever this year precisely because he's so needy. Despite House's vaunted independence and grumbled disdain for humanity, we're seeing that he's a man with real human emotion.

What exactly is the need that Wilson satisfies in House?

Leonard: Why do all your questions sound vaguely dirty?

Laurie: Let me answer the question. One thing House needs Wilson for is vanity. He needs someone to laugh at his jokes. If a tree falls in the forest and Wilson doesn't hear it, does it make a noise? House needs an audience as much as he needs patients for his clinical skills. And I should point out, the jokes aren't simple comic relief. They're quite profound. House's ability to find humor in the absurd, whether it's during an influenza outbreak, let's say, or in the privacy of his own mind, helps House cope with the daily traffic of human misery that runs through the hospital. And he needs Wilson to be the foil for those thoughts.

Leonard: It's sort of the way Hawkeye and Trapper John used to work on M*A*S*H. Hawkeye was more audacious, but he needed the grounded one, Trapper, to be fully understood.

Laurie: Wilson and House are also equals the way those characters were.

Leonard: Exactly. Wilson's the one person in House's life who doesn't have any power over him or whom he doesn't have power over. He didn't hire Wilson. Wilson didn't hire House. There's a freedom in that which is essential to telling the story. It's a relationship chosen by House, not by employment.

Laurie: And I must pay a compliment here to Robert.

Leonard: Oh, no, you mustn't. OK, go ahead.

Laurie: Robert exudes an almost invisible aura of wit, intelli- gence and kindness, but also has that necessary streak of sar- casm, and that's what makes this show work. I was watching a scene with Robert and Lisa Edelstein recently and thought, these are the two actors I most want to watch on television.

Leonard: Wow. I'm touched.

Laurie: In fact, and Robert may fight me on this one, but I believe this show is at heart about Wilson, not House.

Leonard: I object, your Honor!

Laurie: It's Wilson's view of the world that lets the viewer in. It's his levelheaded narration, as it were, that provides a backbone for the show. As in the Sherlock Holmes stories, where Watson was writing about "my brilliant friend" or "my brilliant, annoying friend," it's the same thing. House is the acerbic outsider. It's Wilson who runs the place. At some point when I go, "I'm out," the show will indeed become Wilson's.

Does that mean Wilson isn't leaving the show anytime soon, even though he's resigning from the hospital?

Laurie: Did I just give something away? Oh, dear. I hope not. Leonard: I wasn't going to stop you.

Robert, here's your chance to return the compliment. What does Hugh bring to this role?

Leonard: It's funny. I read stories like these where actors talk about each other, and I always think, "Pffff. That person's lying." So nobody's going to believe me when I say this, but I believe Hugh is House. And frankly, as an actor, I don't believe anyone. I watch actors on shows like Law & Order…

Laurie: Careful, Robert, careful….

Leonard: What?! I love Law & Order. It's one of the only shows I watch! But as an actor I don't believe those are lawyers. I know they're remembering lines. "Did the district attorney ever return the, uh, subpoenas?" Aha! You forgot the word "subpoena" for a second! And they act like they're being "human," but really they just had an actor's mind fart. Hugh's the opposite. When this man gets going, Dr. House is suddenly alive. He may be scowling but he's alive. And let's not even talk about the fact that Hugh's a Brit doing the part with an American accent. He's got a true gift. I feel like I'm working with Carroll O'Connor.

Laurie: My God, this is turning into a bromance.

Where's this friendship headed this season?

Leonard: Certainly Amber's death has changed things between them and will continue to affect that relationship. My favorite moment of any House episode was in the scene on the bus last season with House and Amber. He's telling her in that dream moment that he doesn't want to get off the bus because he doesn't want Wilson to hate him. To me, that's the most naked House has been in five years. He's like a 7-year-old at that point. I found it really touching. I like that we're seeing this new side to House.

Laurie: I do think if House and Wilson are able to get through this period, their bond will be stronger than ever. There's a line coming up that sums up where they're at. I won't give too much away, but House characterizes their relationship with a phrase and Wilson repeats it: "Still not boring."

Which means?

Laurie: It's a rather male way of saying, "We have something special. Whatever else may happen, what we have is never dull."

Leonard: Are you getting misty-eyed, Hugh?

Laurie: [Sniffling] No. No! Never.

Are you guys friends in real life? For instance, Robert, have you been to Hugh's house?

Leonard: Yes.

[Awkward silence.]

Leonard: How can you possibly follow up on that question?

Laurie: Do you want to know how long he stayed?

Leonard: All I remember is there were scented candles and Hugh came out in a robe.

Laurie: That's a lie!

Leonard: Hey, I was just trying to make it sound, you know, bromantic.

So apparently the version of the "Isn't It Bromantic" interview that gets passed around isn't the full thing

So after seeing a tumblr post I can't find, about two and half hours of intensive internet digging, and one purchase from a sketchy second-hand site late (full story under the cut, I promise it's interesting, but also long), I got the physical magazine and scanned it

So here you go: the full "Isn't It Bromantic?" TV guide interview with Robert Sean Leonard and Hugh Laurie

Feel free to repost wherever you want- I want people to be able to find the full thing

SO, as for how I found it:

I saw this tumblr post forever ago that I can't find anymore because tumblr is just Like That with a cropped screenshot of an interview with Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard. In the interview, they're asked about the "bromance" between their two characters. Leonard makes an annoyed comment about how "everyone [is] obsessed with homosexuality", followed by the interview apologizing and Laurie immediately jumping in with, "No, no, let's talk about it. Wilson and House have an unusual relationship so you have to explore…" and the screenshot cuts off there. Cue funny comment from the OP about the interaction, roll credits.

Except, as these things tend to do, it ended up becoming a bit of a brain worm, and I wanted to find it again. But I couldn't find the tumblr post. I looked absolutely everywhere, and in the process of looking everywhere, I found what I thought was the original interview- a blog post with the full quote from the actor. I didn't think too much about it, I figured it was just a short quote given to a popular blog in 2008. There's a magazine cover above it, but I don't think too much about it, because I'm focusing on the quotes in the article instead of the rest of it.

So I send screenshots to a couple friends to make jokes, and it probably should have died there.

However, late at night I end up thinking about that interview again, because of course I did. I start to think about how it's weirdly formatted for, what I assumed at first reading, was just an entertainment news blog reaching out for comment and getting a response. So I pull up the screenshots of the article (because weirdly enough, the old-ass blog only loads on mobile) and look at it again.

This is when I realize that this isn't an original piece from a blog interviewing these two after reaching out for comment. This is a blog post quoting and commenting on a full interview from a magazine, which I had originally thought had just been the inspiration for the piece.

So naturally, I go looking for the magazine.

Luckily, the name of the magazine is displayed on the cover, and so is the title of its main piece. This should be easy to find, right?

Wrong.

This is an interview in a physical magazine. From 2008. October 13th, 2008, to be exact.

I know this exact date because searching the article title and magazine name leads me to an archive on the TV Guide website.

Of covers.

And nothing but covers.

I spend like forty-five minutes searching everywhere I can think of on the web. Internet Archive, the TV Guide website, any search result that comes up when I search any combination of the words "House" "Interview" "Bromantic" "Bromance" "TV Guide" "Archive" etc. Over and over, all that's coming up are that original blog post and the cover from the official gallery.

The only things I could find online were:

The cover and date of the issue on the TV Guide website

The original blog post that was screenshotted in the original tumblr post

Another blog post that had a much shorter version of the quote, references something Leonard says from later in the article, and makes a comment on the nature of his reaction to the term "bromance"

An entry on Leonard's IMDB page's "interview" list mentioning it in title only

And:

5. A single listing for the issue on what seemed to be a second-hand site that looked like it hadn't had its UI updated since the mid 2000's, with a listing with no date or additional information besides what issue it is.

This is the only listing anywhere. I checked every other second-hand site I could think of, and then some that only came up through google searches. There's not a single listing for that issue on any of them. There were plenty of listings of TV guide magazines, including one that seemed promising because it included issues from that year, but it was missing all of October.

It seemed like the only listing for this issue on the entire internet was this one copy on this one obscure website. For all I know, this was listed in 2008 and abandoned, and just never got marked inactive. It could also be a complete scam.

A few quick google searches show that that website seemed to be legit, albeit a bit loose on quality control (which makes sense, this website seemed like the kind of thing you'd have to use the Way Back Machine to access). It also had an option to pay via PayPal, which meant I could file a chargeback if need be.

It was $11.50 when you include shipping.

So at about half past midnight, I bought the listing.

Naturally, about an hour later, I manage to actually find a scan of the interview. I had to follow a link in the comments of a post on FanPop, taking me to an old wordpress blog, and I'm sitting in front of the damn interview at last.

But something doesn't make sense. Why would their cover story only be two pages of text that aren't even full pages, and why would it cut off so strangely? There was no concluding sentence or paragraph, even though it started with a fairly long lead-in. It also led right up to the edge of the page, which felt like there should be more to it. There were more images in the interview than text, and the fact that there are so many of them and they clearly did a whole photoshoot indicated that they had them on hand for a while. The silly string one, for instance, I imagine probably had to require a couple takes, which means cleaning off Wilson's hair and face, adjusting makeup, etc. for it. Meanwhile, the conversation itself seems like it could have taken ten minutes total. I could have been totally wrong and that was where the article ended, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there might be more.

So I hold tight. A couple days pass with no update, and then the PayPal purchase gets updated with a tracking number. Promising, but it could still be a scam. Whether or not I get the actual magazine becomes a source of anxiety for the next week.

Until today, when I get told it was delivered. And when I opened the envelope it was sent in: there it was.

When I tell you I was happy stimming in my bedroom just holding the damn issue in my own hands... And then opening it and finding out that I was right, there was a missing page... I was elated. I still am, just typing this.

So I spent half an hour getting my scanner to work, and I give you the above issues.

Like I said above, feel free to repost however and wherever you want. I want all this to mean something.

In the meantime, I have two more House-themed TV Guide magazines coming to try and get articles from.

[forabeatofadrum]

A Grimm Christmas (G, ~5K)

Summary: A continuation of Snow for Christmas. 

Simon’s gone back to London and Baz has to go back in the closet. Or so he thinks. His sisters have a different plan.

Notes: What if we made Malcolm Grimm’s Christmas even more uncomfortable than before? That’s the question that was on my mind after I finished Snow for Christmas. Poor Malcolm thought he could go back to pretending queerness doesn’t exist, but his kids thought differently. This is a little story about the Grimm children and about how there’s always hope.

Jas @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ came up with the title and they were kind enough to let me use it, because it is brilliant. Happy reading.

Read on AO3 or under the cut.

BAZ

I watch Simon get in Fiona’s car. He drives off and my heart already feels heavy. Call me a sap, but I miss him already and he’s not even out of our driveway. (The one to the hunting lodge is longer than the one in Hampshire, which is saying something since our Hampshire house had a huge driveway.)

There’s another reason I insist on watching Simon drive away.

I kissed him in front of my parents.

I don’t regret it, but Merlin, I wonder what will happen now. We’ve been politely un-homosexual during the entire day and now I ruined it at the very end. (Un-homosexual is a word Simon would use. He has that effect on me.)

It’s time to face the music. I compose myself and turn back to the house. As expected, it’s clear that they’re not all to pleased about it. My father has a frown on his face and Daphne has the same anxious look that she had at Fortum’s when she invited Simon over.

Luckily, all three of us are saved from acknowledging my queerness when Sophie appears between my parents.

“Is Simon gone?” she asks.

“Yes, dear,” I walk back to the porch. The moment I’m in reach, Sophie raises her arms. She wants me to pick her up and even though she’s getting too big, I cannot refuse her.

Besides, I am still very much a vampire. I could probably carry Mordelia if she wanted me to.

I hoist Sophie up and the two of us walk back inside. My parents step aside and I feel tense when I pass them. It’s as if my father is exuding his disappointment and that is exactly what I meant when I told Simon I didn’t like that I feel closeted.

My father closes the door and the four of us walk back to the living room and Sophie is talking my ears off, but I can’t concentrate. I hate that I feel bad for kissing the love of my life goodbye. I shouldn’t feel bad for that. I don’t regret it, really, but my father gives off the feeling that I should.

Yes, Simon could come along.

Yes, we had a great time all things considered.

No, we will not acknowledge why Simon is here in the first place.

At least, that’s what I thought, because Sophie keeps talking about Simon and how she’s sad that he left, because she likes his wings and she likes that he gave her gifts, and when I remind Sophie that Simon had to celebrate Christmas with his grandmother, Sophie is confused.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” she asks.

“Because Christmas is family time and I love you,” I answer.

Mordelia hears it through her headphones and she rolls her eyes. She’s such an angsty teen. Petra, on the other hand, beams when she hears it.

Sophie also nods as if I said something extremely profound.

“Yes, but you also love Simon,” she says with a frown.

“… I do,” I say cautiously.

“And since he’s your boyfriend, shouldn’t you go to his family too?”

The entire room goes silent. Mordelia even takes off her headphones. Petra and Swithin seem unbothered by what just happened, but I can hear that my father has stopped in his tracks. If turning back to see his reaction to me kissing Simon was nerve wracking, me turning back to see his reaction to Sophie calling Simon my boyfriend is torture.

I don’t reply and I put Sophie down on the lavish sofa, next to Petra. Then I sit down on her other side. I purposefully don’t look to my father.

“Well, yes, I do love him very much,” I say and I hate how the guilt weighs heavily. I hate that I know this guilt is wrong. I hate that I feel guilty in the first place while knowing that shouldn’t have to feel like this, but I still do. “But the same way I love you as my family, he also has a family he loves, and we decided that it is fine that we are apart for a little while.”

Once again, Sophie nods as if I told her the secret of the universe.

“I get that. Mum was gone for a long time too.”

I hear Daphne cough awkwardly and I glance over her. She’s poured herself a drink and it looks like she’s choked on it. (Well, she’s the one drinking in the morning.) (Is this because of this conversation?) (Although I don’t think it’s alcoholic.). I am still not ready to look at my father.

Well, mum joined a cult and that is a different situation, I think, but sure.

“Yes, true,” I say awkwardly.

Petra also hums in agreement.

“And you and Simon live together, right?” Petra adds fuel to this fire by saying that. Now I hear my father choke on his drink. “So you will see him a lot!”

“I will,” I say, still a bit cautious.

How do the twins know all of this?

I thought that my relationship was a big taboo in the house. Even Mordelia clearly knows this, because she’s watching this entire conversation unfold with a shocked look on her face. She keeps glancing towards our parents out of the corner of her eyes.

So it’s clear that my parents made it very aware to her that she can’t talk about it.

Which… well, which makes me seethe. I am not surprised, but the disappointment is still heavy.

But the twins have clearly missed the memo.

Of course it cannot last.

“That’s enough of that,” my father says sternly and I finally look at him. He’s gripping the base his glass and I’m surprised it hasn’t snapped in half yet. He looks extremely tense and uncomfortable and Daphne looks anxious again.

“But daddy-”

“Sophronia,” Daphne says with a clipped voice, “It’s Christmas.”

So what? I want to yell, but I have learnt to bite my tongue and hide my displeasure all my life, so I know what to do. It’s clear what she means. It’s not a great idea to talk about it, because it will make Malcolm Grimm unhappy and that will spoil Christmas.

Great.

“Makes sense,” Petra says, and all the hope that has been quietly building in my chest gets crushed in an instant.

Sophie hums in agreement.

Well, fuck.

“Yes, this Christmas, Simon needs to go home,” she says, “But maybe next year we can all have Christmas together!”

“… As in?” Mordelia prompts carefully.

“Our family and Simon’s family!” Sophie exclaims happily.

“Oh, yay!” Petra claps her hands happily, “Yes, because Simon and Baz are in love and people who are in love do that!”

“Girls, we agreed that it’s Christmas,” my father butts in.

Petra nods.

“Okay, we cannot talk about Simon being here because he is Baz’s boyfriend for this Christmas,” Petra says, “But daddy, we’re talking about next Christmas!”

She says it with an ‘isn’t it obvious?’ voice. She’s this close to dramatically rolling her eyes. It’s a family trait, one that Mordelia and I have perfected.

I have to hide a smile. Petra is right in a way. Even Mordelia cannot hide her amusement. Up until now she looked torn whether or not she should side with me or with our parents, but I think Petra is winning her over.

“Next Christmas! Yay, big Christmas with family! Oh, Baz,” Sophie’s eyes go wide with a sudden realisation, “If you two live together, and are in love, and celebrate Christmas together, does that mean you are getting married soon? Then we’re all family!”

My father, bless his stupid heart, breaks the glass.

“I can fix it for you, father,” I say with a pointed tone in my voice. I take out my wand and cast a quick I can fix it for you, Sonny. The spell is extra strong since it matches what I said before I cast it.

“Thanks Basilton,” he says shortly.

“You’re welcome.”

The two of us stare at each other and in that moment, I come to an epiphany.

My father has no power over the situation.

He might’ve been able to make Mordelia cautious about any mention of queerness, but the twins don’t see anything wrong with it. Kids are often more open-minded than adults, because they haven’t been taught hatred yet. I was too late with Mordelia, but I realise I can change it for my youngest siblings. I can show them - and I suppose also myself - that my love for Simon has a place in the world. (Simon would say the twins are like free real estate.)

I owe it to them to show them the way.

I owe it to my past self.

Fuck, I even owe it to my current self. I belong here.

And I realise this can go both ways. My father is clearly silently communicating to me to stop this, since he realises that he and Daphne aren’t able to do so, and yes I can do that and I can shove myself back to this closet.

Or I can no longer give a fuck.

And make my father super uncomfortable.

At Christmas.

Now, I’d like to believe I am a good man. I’ve reflected a lot on my past behaviour and there are things that I definitely regret, but I think I’ve grown. I am a reasonable and nice person.

But if there’s one flaw that I cannot let go of, it’s spitefulness.

Is it terrible of me to give my father the worst Christmas of his life? Yes, certainly. Am I excited to give him a taste of his own medicine, because I had to be the one to cower in discomfort all these past Christmases? Yes, totally.

So I give him a big smile and turn back to my adoring sisters.

“I am not getting married to him,” I say, “… yet.”

The twins gasp.

“Will you, Bazzy?” Petra sits up and her face is in awe. Petra loves weddings. She always makes her dolls get (heterosexually) married. “Will you?”

I laugh.

“That is also up to him, my dear,” I say.

“Does that make Simon a brother?” Sophie pouts, “I have enough brothers! You can’t marry him anymore. Swithin is enough!”

At that moment, Swithin giggles. He isn’t listening at all, he’s just playing with his toys underneath the opulent Christmas tree, but it is still fitting.

“It makes him our brother-in-law, Sophie!”

The three of us turn to Mordelia. She gives me a small smile. I see her glance towards our parents but I use one shoulder to shrug.

An understanding passes us. If I no longer have to care, then why should she?

“Brothers-in-law aren’t the same as brothers,” Mordelia continues her explanation with a bored tone, as if that silent conversation between us didn’t happen, “We’d be Simon’s sisters-in-law. Does that mean I get to bully Simon?”

“Nooooo!” the twins cry out.

“Girls-” poor Daphne makes another attempt, but it is futile.

My sisters talk about Simon and I sit back and I enjoy the show. I quickly look at my father again. He’s staring at his repaired glass and the discomfort is obvious, but at least he’s shutting up. Even Daphne looks exasperated and defeated.

I don’t think it’s bad of me to enjoy it. The schadenfreude is big.

--

The rest of the day, I talk about Simon. He’s arrived at his grandma and I am bombarded with photos of the many cakes that Lady Salisbury has baked. I show them to my siblings and they all oooh and aaaah at the sight of it.

“Tell Simon…”

“What is Simon doing now?”

“Send Simon a photo of…”

My siblings not only know that he is my boyfriend, but they also actively want to know more of him, since they understand it’s important to me.

It’s all so… normal. So nice. I am not used to being able to talk about Simon as my partner in my parents’ house. Heck, even Swithin has taken interest in Simon. I showed my siblings a photo with Simon with his wings on full display and now Swithin keeps reminding everyone that he wants the bird to come back.

Of course I told Simon, because I can do that. He finds it adorable.

“if ur parents are fine with it I can take the kids out for a flight” he texted me, which doesn’t sound like a great idea, but it’s still sweet of him to suggest it.

I feel great.

This is how it’s always supposed to be.

Sophie is even trying to convince Daphne to take her on a visit to the Hackney Wick flat. (Poor Daphne will have a heart attack when she sees the pink couch.) (Not necessarily because of the gay thing, but the pink is so bright that it doesn’t fit with the rest of the interior at all.) (And okay, also because of the gay thing.)

We have Christmas dinner and my fangs don’t pop out, but that’s partly because I am not focusing on my fangs in the first place. Instead I am answering Mordelia’s questions about living in London.

I haven’t felt this at ease in front of my family in ages.

Which, okay, it does make me a bit sad. It’s weird to think I could’ve had this all my life. My siblings are showing me that it is possible and I do not know what to do with the quiet anger that builds up every time I think of that.

Shit, maybe I need therapy after all.

After dinner, I help Daphne with washing up and the moment the two of us are alone, I brace myself for a lecture, but it doesn’t come. I suppose Daphne is still not talking about it. She doesn’t talk at all, even. She looks deep in thought, as if she’s contemplating something and I really hope she isn’t considering joining another cult.

Are we really not going to acknowledge what happened?

I was wrong, because after the washing up I pass my father in our lavish hallway and he stops me.

“Basilton,” he says.

“Father,” I reply calmly.

“We need to talk.”

“I think we do,” I say, “Talk, then.”

My father’s face is rigid and again and I revel in his discomfort. Yes, father. Talk. Say out loud what has been happening under your roof. Confirm why you look like you’re considering offing yourself.

“You’re setting a bad example for your siblings,” he says instead.

“Why?” I challenge him.

He really, really doesn’t want to say it, does he?

“You know why,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I genuinely don’t,” I say, and I’m not even playing dumb. I genuinely don’t see anything wrong with my siblings and I talking about my partner. The twins were right. When Simon and I get married, we will all be family. “I am having a lovely time, father. Now, if you excuse me-”

He puts his hand on my shoulder, stopping me again.

“Basilton,” he repeats.

“Father,” I match his serious tone in mock.

“You’re being immature, Basilton,” he says and I straighten my posture, “I invite Simon to this Christmas for you, and this is how you repay me?”

My head jerks towards him.

Did he really just say that?

“You invite Simon to this house under false pretences,” I say, trying not to show how angry I am, “You refuse to acknowledge that we are together. You try to ban my siblings from talking about it. You made me sleep on the sofa, instead of in the arms of the love of my life. You act as if me kissing him is a crime, and I am supposed to be grateful for all of that?”

“Bas-”

“You lost, father,” I cut him off, “Face it, you lost.”

My father turns red.

“You may have succeeded shutting up Daphne-” Although I unfortunately believe that Daphne harbours some of the same opinions “-and Mordelia. You created a sense of fear around the topic, but you lost. It’s too late. Unlike you, the twins don’t see anything wrong with what is happening and Swithin likes Simon too.”

“I am just trying to protect-”

“From what?” I press harder, “Who benefits from this? You can pretend that queerness doesn’t exist. You can talk around it in front of my siblings, but again, it is too late. Even if you make it certain that queerness will never be discussed under your roof, because it upsets you, my siblings will find an entire world out here. They will meet queer people, even of their own age. They will see queer people on the telly. They will read books with characters that have two dads or two mums, or parents of any gender identity. The twins can clearly clock that Simon and I are together, and I know it's not because you or mum told them so.”

My father looks around us, but no one is listening. Daphne and Mordelia are in the kitchen. The twins and Swithin are loudly playing with their new toys in the living room. It’s messed up that no one can hear this. It’s messed up that the moment he stepped inside the room yesterday, it went silent and everyone got uncomfortable and potentially scared.

If he has a problem, he should at least have the balls to say it out loud.

Still, my father lowers his voice.

“I am just trying my best here.”

I snort.

“Try harder,” I say coldly.

He looks pinched.

“Basilton, I am trying to protect you, not the twins,” he says and I know I said that dramatic eye rolls are the family trait, but I try not do to it, “Yes, the twins as well, but you too. You know I care about you. I want you to be happy and this gay thing will only come back to hurt you. I love you too much to let that happen, or to let a similar thing happen to the other kids.”

I know.

That makes everything worse.

If he didn’t love me, and if I didn’t love him back, then we wouldn’t be having this agonising conversation. Then we’d be no one to each other. But as I said to Petra, I come back for Christmas every damn year, despite knowing that I will be uncomfortable, because I love my family.

It would’ve been so much more easier if I could just cut him out of my life and be at peace with that, but that is not the truth.

I take a deep breath and I compose myself. I can’t afford to lose myself now. After years of pretending that it doesn’t exist, we’re finally talking about it. I am finally saying what’s been on my mind for years.

“I love you too, but you’re not helping anyone here,” I say calmly, “Wanting me to be happy is not an excuse to treat me and Simon the way you do, or to make everyone afraid of mentioning it.”

“If only you could just stop this,” my father sounds genuinely desperate, “I heard that Phillipa Stainton has rejoined the World of Mages. Now, she is not the most powerful, but her family-”

“There are a lot of reasons that this is a bad idea,” I cut him off. I can’t believe that he is still trying to set me up with a woman. Pippa Stainton of all women. “The main one being that I am gay.”

My father has a pained look on his face. I did it. I dropped the g-word.

“Basilton-”

“No matter how justified you feel with your intentions, it is still wrong,” I say back, “Do you think that I am not aware of the possible obstacles that being gay can create? I am very aware. Simon and I cannot hold hands without eliciting some kind of response. I know that, father, and yet I still choose to hold his hand because I love him.”

“But you can choose not to.”

“I can. But I won’t. Because I can choose how to act, but I cannot choose who I am,” I exclaim, “And no matter how much you try to deny it in this house, it doesn’t change the fact that I cannot control that I love men. One man in particular. You, on the other hand, can change your attitude and you refuse to, so don’t talk to me about not changing my ways of life, since you don’t even want to try to change.”

I just loaded all of that on him. All the pain and anger that I have pushed down for years just exploded out of me. I am surprised that I haven’t blown up in his face. (I suppose suppressing your emotions is good for this, at least. I can’t lose by being too emotional.)

“I am not a bad person. You still have a place in this house!” my father says, but he sounds different. Unsure. “Other people would’ve kicked you out.”

I let out a shallow laugh.

“I still have a place in this house, as long as I pretend to be someone I’m not, so this place in my house has been conditional all this time. And I love this family, but the twins were right. I also have Simon’s family now. They’ve only known me for half a year and they’ve showed me more acceptance in those six months than that you have in a decade. And since I am not leaving Simon, and you are presenting me with a choice, I might willingly loose my place in this house.”

The moment I said it, I realise a part of me still wants to take it back.

I want a place in this house.

I want to be with my family.

But another part of me realises there’s also some truth in those words. If he can’t change, it will be me who has to do the work, and I don’t think I can do that, especially now that the Salisbury’s have showed me that I don’t have to.

I hate this feeling of being semi-closeted.

I hate the conflicted feelings that it brings.

“Basilton-”

I hold up my hand.

“The Salisbury family is accepting. So are Mordelia and the twins. Again, you lost, father.”

I wait for him to say something back, but he doesn’t.

I look over his shoulder and I see Mordelia and Daphne standing there and I wonder how much they’ve heard. Based on Mordelia’s face, they certainly heard the end of my dramatic spiel.

“Bazzy!” we all hear.

Petra is running towards me with a sheet of paper.

“Look what I made!”

It’s a drawing of Simon’s wings.

I shoot my father a knowing look before turning my back to him. Petra leads me back to the living room and she talks about how she wishes she could fly.

--

My father drives me to the train station.

This is another chance for him.

After yesterday’s actions, we’ve been avoiding each other as much as possible, but Daphne isn’t comfortable driving and there are no busses that reach the hunting lodge, so now we’re stuck together in this awkward silence. I am on my phone, texting Simon my train information.

When we arrive, I wait for him.

“Have a nice trip,” he says.

“Alright.”

Alright.

I open the door to the car to get out, but he stops me again.

“Come back soon, will you?” he says, “With Simon, if you want to.”

“We’ll see.”

“Simon, your friend.”

“My friend, yes,” I resist the urge to roll your eyes. It’s an olive branch, I know that, but it is a rotten one. It is so fragile that it might snap the moment I take it.

“And maybe Petra was right,” he continues, “Maybe we can visit you and Simon in London. Where you live together. And have Christmas with the Salisbury’s, if they want that.”

I look over my shoulder. Now this is something. My father is still looking like he’d rather die than say those words, but it’s more than before.

“As a family,” I say.

“As a family,” he confirms, “Have a safe trip.”

--

Simon greets me at the train station. He’s come all the way to King’s Cross, although that wasn’t that hard since he stayed the night in Mayfair.

But now we’re taking the tube back to Hackney Wick. Home. Our home. We hold hands on the train and I don’t care if it bothers others.

Once we’ve arrived and we put away our stuff, I send a message to my family to tell them I’m home.

Simon comes in with tea and he talks my ears off about his Christmas with his grandmother and uncle. We sit on our pink sofa and I have a smile on my face. It makes me happy how Simon is bonding with his family. It’s still new, and Simon still calls them Lady Salisbury and Jamie out of habit, but it’s nice and he clearly likes them.

“They asked if you wanted to come over, but I kind of want a day with the two of us,” he says.

“Great minds think alike,” I say with a grin, “Besides, we can visit her soon.”

“Hm, yeah,” he says. He puts his cup on the table and he leans against me. “How was your Christmas? I loved the photo’s of your siblings’ drawings.”

“I told them you appreciate it.”

“Glad they like me.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “Yeah, they do.”

Simon looks up when he hears the woeful tone.

“What is it, babe?”

“My parents don’t like you. I think.”

Simon frowns.

“I thought they warmed up to me after dinner? Your father certainly was less annoyed by my existence.”

“Yes, but that was before I kissed you goodbye in front of them and reminded them that we are as queer as a three dollar bill.”

“Oh.”

I let out another sigh before I tell Simon everything that has happened the past day. He listens attentively and he rubs my arm when I become more agitated when recounting what my father said to me.

But I also tell him that my father brought up the idea of visiting.

I drag my hand across my face.

“I don’t know what this means,” I say, “He still can’t accept it. He can’t even say it. But he does acknowledge that we live together. It’s as if we’re back to square one. What do I do with this?”

“Nothing,” Simon says after a beat of silence.

I look at him through my fingers.

“Nothing,” Simon repeats, “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

That’s rich coming from him, but maybe that’s why it hits me like a ton of bricks. If Simon, the person who’s blindly followed someone for the most formative years of his life, who was constantly under the belief that he had to act a certain way or do certain things, can say that I don’t have to do anything, then maybe I really don’t have to do anything.

“Again, maybe this is a beginning. Like in all those movies and TV shows. Things might get better, but I suppose it is up to your parents,” he says, “You did what you could do. I’m proud of you.”

And honestly, yeah, I am proud of myself as well.

I shouldn’t have to defend myself in the first place, but I did something great. It took my twin sisters’ open adoration for Simon to show me I could do it, and I did it.

“So, what now?”

Simon smiles.

“Now, we have a very nice Extra Christmas, just the two of us, where we can be as gay as we want!” he says and he kisses me.

--

A year later

--

“This is a mistake.”

I’m tying my tie, but I can see Simon looking at me in the reflection of our mirror. I raise an eyebrow. He pouts.

“Why is this a mistake, love?” I ask him as I finish up.

“There are so many reasons for this to be a mistake!” Simon says frantically and I agree, but it is happening. He almost puts a hand in his hair out of frustration, but then he remembers that he’s styled it. “We should never have agreed to this! Our place is the smallest!”

It is.

It’s going to be hard fitting both our families in our small Hackney Wick flat. Penny came over to help with the preparations, so we magicked most of our furniture to the side and Penny then spelled our dining table bigger. (She’s still such a fierce magician.)

Penny and Shepard won’t be there, which is maybe a good thing, because Simon is right. Even with the different interior, it’s hard to fit everyone in our flat. There’s eleven of us. Good thing Jamie didn’t invite his new girlfriend.

Fuck, I can’t believe I am willingly letting Nicodemus Petty in my home, but the whole point of this extended family Christmas is the extended family part.

“Lady Gran could fit so many people, so could your parents!” Simon says, sounding like a nervous wreck. He doesn’t even realise he said Lady Gran, which always amuses me. “Only Fiona’s flat is as shit as ours.”

“The twins want to see our place, love,” I say. I put on my suit jacket and I style my hair one more time and I think I’m done. I look stunning, if I may so, and I may. “And… my father didn’t fight the invitation. That is huge.”

It still took them a year to actually come down to London to visit me and Simon, but better late than never. Okay, we tried to do a summer meet-up, but then Lady Salisbury asked us to come along on a vacation to Italy and we couldn’t say no to that.

Simon’s shoulders slump when he remembers that.

“That’s right. Are you excited?” he asks.

The truth is that I am probably as nervous as Simon, but for different reasons. But I nod. I am okay. Things aren’t perfect. I’ve barely seen my family in the past year, mainly because my father and I didn’t know what to say.

But I did continue to talk to my sisters. Maybe the fact that this younger generation has phones has some perks. Simon and I send a lot of photo’s of our life together and in return they send silly messages about school and what not.

Merlin, Mordelia spends more time messaging Simon than messaging me. They’re bonding over shit cartoons.

It’s still my parents that are the issue here. Daphne still calls Simon my friend and I don’t talk about Simon with my father unless I have to. At least he congratulated me when Simon obtained his forklift certificate. (The twins told him.)

It’s not glamorous, but it’s a start.

“And if your father’s an ass, I’ll slice him with my sword!” Simon says excitedly and I snort.

“Sure.”

Simon wants to say something else, but he’s interrupted by our doorbell ringing. They’re early, whoever they are. Simon gives me a quick kiss before he goes to open the door.

A few seconds later I can hear Swithin yell “Bird!” and a small smile appears on my face. Swithin knows what dragons are by now, but he still insists on the bird thing.

It’s time to face the music. I check myself one last time in the mirror and I tell myself it will be fine. This is happening. My family is here at my home to celebrate Christmas with my boyfriend and his family. If only someone had told young Baz that one day this would happen.

Things aren’t perfect. The olive branch is still a bit rotten and fragile, but it’s there and I take it. And you know, if my father hasn’t fully changed his ways then that means that he’ll have a second uncomfortable Christmas in a row.

Merry Christmas to me.

[slutfor-fictionalmen]

hi hi! I hope this message isn’t too late or anything, since I only just seen the one you send me this morning! Also I accidentally deleted your messages while trying to reply 🤦‍♀️

But if it’s still alright, may I request an Armin Arlert x slightly thicker/chubby reader? just something soft and simple! maybe he’s noticed that the reader doesn’t eat very much anymore, and is skipping meals, and he confronts her about it, because he doesn’t want her getting sick or something happening. She obviously gets a little upset about it, and like, tells him she’s been having a hard week and has been super insecure lately. She just doesn’t like the way she looks, and Armin comforts her and stuff! All the love and cuddles! 🥰 I’m in need for this rn honestly 😭

I hope i did it right!! Things are more internalized due to my own self indulgence, i hope you like it!!

Tw: self harm(starving) 

Another day passed, and you hated being in the corps more and more, with the men objectifying you and the women with their fake smiles and judgemental looks, aside from Mikasa that is. You felt her hand on your shoulder, staring right back at them as you passed.

She was the only girl-friend you’ve ever had, which makes your bond with each other especially strong, she called you her therapy stuffed animal( in a good way) with how loving and kind you were when she came home to eren’s house. You were always there, you gave her her first jacket, you bear-hugged her when she was at her worst and missed her parents, you stood by her and never faltered. Even going as far as telling off Eren for being tactless to her feelings, poor boy has no social cues.

Eren loved you for how truly different you really are, despite being an only child, you were his sister, as much as a pain in the ass you are. But this called for you being apart of his and Mika’s friend group with no doubt. Being part of erens tight knit group of friends means you were automatically loved by eren, mika…. And armin.

You always had a fondness for the shy blonde, his all bark and no bite nature stole your heart. You met at a young age but only connected through Eren, he always tells you to thank him for that introduction despite your efforts to play off your crush being in vain. You loved how… pure he looked, how in a world full of death and violence, he could always bring light into your day with a smile or a story. No matter what you could count on his smile,you could count on him.

That’s why you hated today with a passion.

“We have extra food, which one of you dumbasses didn’t eat all your shit?” You sighed, walking away from the situation you caused. It wasn’t a good day, their comments bugged you today for some reason, and Armin wasn’t there to perk up the atmosphere of this gloomy day. Making it unreasonably difficult for you to focus on your own health today, this isn’t even the first time this has happened. It’s been a week of irregular meals, constant moving, and titan stress. It wasn’t like you were trying to starve, you just didn’t have the time.

And you didn’t notice till today.

“Lookin’ thinner, bunny… are you eating well?” You ignore eren’s concerned comment, pressing forward with the group in disturbed silence. This was the fifth comment today about your looks that you’ve gotten. You weren’t a small person, you had extra meat, and you had curves, paired with your adorable tiger stripes, but you know for a fact that starving this little would not affect your appearance that much. It irritated you, and you vowed to tell off the next person who said anything.

“Y/n can-“ “Oh my GOD, are you SERIOUS? I’ve been eating! I havent lost that much weight and i don’t want to hear your Perverted FUCKING Mouth say anything! It’s idiotic for you to continue to act like a jealous schoolgirl and make your ‘sly’ comments! So just Shut up!”

You finally open your eyes from your rant, regretful as your irises meet two bright blue eyes on a horrified face. “I was just going to ask if you can slow down and walk with me-“ Guilt floods your mind as you ear him squeak out his words. You lower your gaze and nod, moving to the back of the group with the boy. It didn’t matter how long this would be, you knew Levi would make you set up for camp soon.

“ ‘m sorry armin, you didn’t deserve that, I’m just-“ “Don’t apologize, you didn’t mean it to me but it was still valid. But never mind that, are you ok? Yes you haven’t been eating but you’ve been…. Cold lately..” You wanted to tell him, just say, ‘ I’m so in love with you that even a few days without your voice makes me angry as shit’ but you knew it wasn’t the right time…. And besides, would he even accept a girl like you?

“I’m fine, just stressed, tired, and overwhelmed…. It’s a lot you know?” Armin nods walking closer to you and letting your answer settle before your group sets up for camp and your pace continues to slow.

“You’re beautiful no matter what, I’ve read articles that said starving is actually terrible for your body, unintentional or not, it won’t end up good. If i have to,” He flushes, continuing to look ahead,” I’ll stay with you all day to make sure you’re eating and drinking water.” You freeze, feeling flushed as you watch him walk away and realize that he just offered to be around you all day just for you to be healthy.

You shake it off, keeping his words at the forefront of your mind before you get ready to retire for the night. You find a note on your blanket, asking you to meet armin at his tent with water and a blanket. Curious as to what it means you do as the note says, waiting at armin’s tent before he opens the zipper with a happy smile, welcoming you inside.

“You got the water?” You lift up the container, making him nod and turn away to a covered pile in his room. He takes the cover off, revealing the food he gathered for you two. “You didn’t eat again, so I didn’t either. And before you say anything, i got some of everything  so you have to eat SOMETHING! I told you all day didn’t I?” You look at him with teary eyes, your emotions of the week spilling out at his gesture.

Sobs wrack your body before he pulls you into his form, engulfing you in a warm hug. You feel him draw soothing circles on your back, rocking you and letting out slow shushes in attempts to calm your mind. You feel him kiss the top of your head and rubbing your back more before he pulls away and guides you to the setup of food.

He grabs you a plate of everything, making you sit and eat with him. You nibble at your food, uninterested in grossing out the guy you like by eating in front of him. But that only made him take your fork and feed you himself, he was determined for you to take care of yourself and love yourself as he loves you. You notice him watch you eat with admiration, happy to see you finally giving yourself some nourishment. You hear him sigh and hesitate, but you leave it untouched before he breaks the silence.

“You know…. I’ve loved you for years, ever since you punched out that kid who threatened me for speaking up, and how you always listened to me talk about the books I’ve read and things I’ve heard-“ “i know, i love you too armin.” “No not like that, I’m IN love with you, like i want to hold your hands, kiss you everywhere, curl into you at night, i want to love you.” You stop mid chew, maintaining eye contact as you swallow and stare at him.

“Are you serious?” “Yes.” “Like you’re not-“ “Y/n L/n I am completely and utterly in love with you.” You push the food aside, crawling between his legs and curling up onto his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. “I love you so much it hurts armin. It hurt me so badly when you wouldn’t talk to me, i don’t know what i did but i was so mad that i pushed you away.”

Armin tilted your chin up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he grabbed onto your soft form with a passion. “I’ll never do that again, I’m so sorry beautiful.” You hold onto him tighter pressing your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

He pulls away, reaching over you to grab your blanket…. Man he really plans things out, before he wraps it around you both and presses a kiss to your temple. He lets his hands sink into your skin, loving how your soft skin feels on his fingertips. His lips pepper kisses on your neck, pulling slightly back to press a kiss onto your hairline. You loved how gentle he was with you, you already knew the answer to to your question before he even opened his mouth.

“More then you can ever know, my love.”

[dadsbongos]

good heart

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All the Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: use of the daddy word but it’s purely platonic, sacrilege, post-canon, proofread but i am illiterate, fem pronouns Summary: Arvin knows he wants more, but he won’t let himself run for it. ~~~

Arvin slides onto the nearest stool he can find at the counter without looking around too much, peeling off his hat and holding it tight to the shiny surface with both fists. He keeps his head low and waits for a waitress to approach him.

“You want anything or you just getting out of the sun?” a voice teases from behind the counter.

His head lifts and he offers a fracture of a polite smile and nod, “Just a black coffee, ma’am. Please.”

“‘Ma’am’” you repeat as you write down the order, “You’re awful formal, don’t you think?”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Oh, no, you don’t gotta apologize for anything,” you awkwardly offer a smile, “I just tease sometimes, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Now, how many times have I told you to stop that,” an older man chides from the kitchen, “Bring that poor boy’s order over and stop messin’ with people.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you mutter, turning to hand over the ticket with Arvin’s measly order.

The man takes the paper and squints to read it, shaking his head before turning to the brunette boy at the counter, “Sorry ‘bout her. Gets bored around here.”

Arvin finally glances around the whole room and sees that the diner is empty of customers except for him.

He shakes his head and gives a slight grin, “Don’t worry none, sir. Just a rough few days, is all - nothin’ wrong with your daughter havin’ fun.”

He’s waved off by the older man and you soon return to Arvin’s front with a bounce in your step at his words, “Thanks for backin’ me up, stranger.”

“Just the truth,” Arvin murmurs, looking around the barren diner once again, “Slow day, huh?”

He internally cringes at the awkward starter but resolves to let it slide when you light up at the branch.

“Yeah, it’s Sunday service hours, ya know. Don’t get too many people willing to skip a meetin’ with the Lord for scrambled eggs and coffee.”

Lenora and Emma would be at service by now. Lenora would be praying with her neighbors and family by now. She loved services.

A bell dings before Arvin can claw out a subpar response and you’re making a trip to the little window between the kitchen and sitting area before carrying back a breakfast of toast, eggs, and coffee.

“Oh, I can’t- “

“On the house,” you wink, pushing the plate towards Arvin, “Don’t gotta eat it if you don’t want, but Daddy likes makin’ the effort to feed people,” leaning over and whispering so your father can’t hear, you let him in on a secret, “He looks mean but he’s got a real soft spot for people like you.”

He quirks a brow, picking up a fork to poke at his eggs, “Strays?”

You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “People who look like they need a good meal. He’s old but he reads people real well. I can take it back, if you don’t want it.”

“No!” he recoils and his face sours at the volume of his own voice, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shrug, “Gotten a lot worse from customers for a lot less.”

Arvin finishes off a bite of toast before asking, “People yell at you often?”

Again, you merely shrug, “Polite young men like you ain’t exactly common around here.”

“Who could do that? You seem mighty fine,” Arvin shakes his head, “I don’t know you real well, ma’am, but somethin’ ‘bout that don’t rub me the right way.”

“Not much I can do ‘bout it. Daddy kicks ‘em out fast as he can but it ain’t like he’s always listenin’ out for people who don’t like his daughter.”

“What if I could get ‘em out?”

“What? You plan on sittin’ in a slow diner just waitin’ for people to get rough with little ol’ me?”

“Sad as it may sound, ma’am, I don’t got a lot goin’ on. ‘Sides,” Arvin shovels up more eggs on his fork, “your daddy ain’t a bad cook.”

You weren’t actually expecting Arvin to come back the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. Or even the week later. But he did, just like he said he would - he came back and made sure nobody gave you a hard time. He wasn’t the tallest or the most muscular, but nobody could deny the intimidation Arvin could give out. He seemed like he’d seen more than most men his age. Seemed like he’d done a lot more than a lot of men his age. After a day you asked his name, he panicked and said Eugene just in case either of you knew of the sins living in Arvin Russell.

After a mere week of him coming around, your father offered him a job at the diner. He’d take the floor while you had the counter, and if the floor wasn’t busy he’d be on call for anything else needed. After a month, you asked where he was staying and found out he had nowhere to really go and he felt guilt claw at his chest that night when he wound up sleeping in your father’s bed with your father on the couch.

But he seemed sweet on you, calling you darlin’ in that backwoods drawl of his - offering to carry dishes when he saw you struggling. Offering to take over your position if you seemed overwhelmed. Helped your father around the diner and in the house, kept you company, kept out people who threw fits in the diner. Never made a fuss, never made himself difficult.

He didn’t give out his real name until a few months into his staying. His legs bouncing under the counter with nerves and hands gripping the surface for any sort of purchase. By now he figured you and your father would have some sort of attachment to him, maybe he wouldn’t have to explain his past - maybe both of you already knew. Maybe you’d turn him in. Maybe you’d understand. Maybe he could stay.

Please, Lord, let him stay.

It was after closing hours, leaving just the three of you as he spilled all the weight looming over his guilt-wracked mind. Telling you both - he wasn’t born as Eugene. He was born as Arvin.

“Russell, ain’t that right?”

He wants to dig himself a hole and die in it with how your father looks at him. Judging and waiting. Spying and predatory. It reminds him of those woods. It reminds him of the sheriff.

“How many people have you told?” he’s surprised by how you reach across the table so quickly to grab his hands and hold them in your own.

“Just you two…”

“You shot that reverend. Suspected on a sheriff. We heard about you,” your father’s voice is cold and he wishes he could go back by mere seconds and never tell either of you who he was.

He didn’t want to go to prison. He wasn’t a bad person, he had good reason. He knows he had good reason but the bodies piled up and he felt his chances at getting out of this diner in anything but handcuffs slip away. He knows any chance he had at companionship with anyone other than his own head were burnt to ash.

“Why’d you do it?”

His attention is brought back to you at your shockingly soft tone when asking the question, he purses his lips, “It’s gonna sound like a lie, but I swear that none of those people were any good.”

“Arvin,” you lean towards him slightly to make eye contact, “I wanna believe that, I do. But you’ve gotta explain yourself more than that.”

He lets himself find comfort in your sincere expression for a few seconds longer before looking to your father and then back to you, “That preacher - he, he - he hurt my sister. Real bad. She… she killed herself cuz a’ him. And the sheriff chased me ‘round after I…” he shook his head, clenching his eyes shut at how ridiculous he sounded, “They weren’t no good, I promise you. I swear it.”

“Arvin, why’d you kill the sheriff?” you pat his cheek gently, “Why was he chasin’ you? Was it over the preacher?”

“No, I- I shot his sister. And her husband,” he opens his eyes in time to see that your father has come closer and he wishes he never opened his mouth, “They were tryin’ to kill me. I swear it. They took me into their car, said they’d give me a ride but they- they stopped and I saw him pull out a gun and I knew they were up to no good and I had to protect myself. I didn’t wanna do it, I didn’t want- I didn’t want any a’ this,” he looks away from your father and back to you, tears now springing in his eyes, “I didn’t wanna hurt anybody… I didn’t wanna kill them… I’m not a bad person, I swear.”

You wipe away his tears, “Arvin, I wanna believe you, I do. But I also know you know this is a lot to take in, right?” you look back at your father as if silently asking where to go next.

He pulls you away from Arvin and stares down at the young man as if he could physically read whether he was lying or not. Arvin wishes he was looking at you again, he felt more comfortable when he was looking at you. He felt more comfortable with his hands in yours. He wants his hands in yours.

“If I was you,” he begins, “If my sister was hurt however bad yours was, I know that I’d kill that man. If anyone did what that man did to make your sister take her own life to my sister or, God forbid, my daughter, I know that I’d kill that man. I know that if someone tried taking me outta this world, I’d kill them too,” he nodded to himself, weathered and wrinkled hands splaying out on the table, “I’ve never killed anybody with these hands, Arvin. But if I think you’re lying for a second, they just might have to.”

“Daddy,” you pitch in over your father’s shoulder nervously, “what’re you sayin’?”

“I believe you, Arvin. I believe you’re a good kid, I believe you wouldn’t hurt someone without a damn good reason. You’re good to us and you do good work here. I believe you’re tellin’ the truth,” he looks into the young man’s eyes, “If you ain’t, and you’re lying to me, then I hope the Lord makes you see our faces every time you close those eyes.”

“I ain’t lyin’, sir, I promise,” Arvin shakes his head, growing desperate as tears pool at his waterline, he just wants one of you to say it - just say he’s okay. Say he can stay. He can stay here with you. Say he’s okay.

He just wants to be okay.

Your father leaves wordlessly, retreating to the kitchen, lights flickering as he began the routine clean-up for the night and preparation for an early tomorrow. Arvin turns to you in the growing silence, you’re a blotchy outline with the tears gathering in his eyes.

“D’you believe me?”

You come around the counter and reach out, taking Arvin’s head and pressing it to your chest, just over your heart. Gently removing his hat and placing it on the counter, your fingers begin carding through Arvin’s messy hair, “I believe you, Arvin. The man you’ve been to me is not somebody who’d go around hurtin’ people, I believe you.”

He swallows at the lump in his throat, eyes falling closed and hands grounding themselves in your work uniform, “Thank you, darlin’. Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“You’re safe here, Arvin. We won’t tell nobody, I promise.”

Your voice is more comforting to him than the thought of any eternal bliss waiting outside this life. He wants to protect it - protect you. He wants to stay.

“Can I stay…” he turns his head to press his face into the cloth of your uniform as if that’d prevent any upcoming rejection, “Can I stay, darlin’?”

“You can stay, Arvin,” you murmur, continuing to run your fingers through his hair, “I want you to stay.”

Arvin kept himself wound around you for as long as you’d let him hold on, and you were content enough to keep him in your arms until your father was finished with his routine in the kitchen.

“Ready to head home now?”

“I’m goin’ too?” Arvin pulled away from you just enough to not muffle his reply, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m still stayin’ with you both?”

“Arvin,” you cupped his cheeks to direct his eyes with yours, a small smile just peeking at your lips, “We believe you’re good. Of course, you’re comin’ home with us. We love you, Arvin.”

Your father nodded quietly, patting the boy’s shoulder before walking past you both, “I’ll start up the car, so hurry up. We got an early mornin’ tomorrow.”

It was in the dead of night later on that Arvin found himself still unable to relax. His eyes wide open and fingers nervously tapping at his stomach through the comforter on what used to be your father’s bed. What if you both were tricking him at the diner and there’ll be a police officer out in the front lawn by morning? What if you were at the station turning him in right now and he’s actually all alone in this house?

That thought has him springing up from the bed and down the small hall to where your bedroom door is shut. He feels guilty doubting the sincerity you’d shown but his brain won’t rest and his heart refuses to calm down. He knows he could never blame you for giving him up but he needs you in his life now that he has you.

He curls around the doorknob and pushes open until he’s fully inside. He can just make out your figure in bed within the darkness, his eyes hurrying to adjust to the night.

Creeping to the side of your bed, Arvin hesitates but ultimately shakes you awake anyway, “Darlin’?”

You hum and groan and rub your eyes until you’re fully awake with Arvin at your side, “What’re you doin’ up? Didn’t you hear daddy? We gotta be up early tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep, I- I keep worryin’.”

At the admission, you’re sitting up and bringing a hand over Arvin’s, “‘Bout what?”

“D’you really trust me, or was that just an act back at the diner?”

“I believe you,” you make room on the bed and drag Arvin into it, coddling him to your body, “I know you’re good. I’ve known you for a long while now. It’ll take a bit to get used to, but I know you’re a good man. I love that you’re a good man.”

You’ve gotten so close to saying what he wants to hear, he could almost pretend it’s what you’d said. He could almost pretend he heard you say you love him - he likes to pretend that’s what he heard. But he knows he doesn’t deserve that love - he just needs to protect what he has now rather than strive for more.

“Thank you for believin’ me, darlin’.”

“I’ll believe you ‘til the end, Arvin. I know you’re good.”

He feels comforted, once again, by those words - by your words. He feels comforted by your hold and he hopes that this is a safe place to lie until his bones give out - if you’ll let him. He knows what he wants is to have and hold and cherish this home you’ve given him both in the form of a roof over his head and the spot between your arms but he has to remind himself that what he needs is to just protect you. At least until you decide his sinful heart is worthy of loving with yours.

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x08 Review

Most Likely To was the best ep of S2 so far and ended one ship while launching another. Let’s dig in!

Gaston was super fun, a very nice showcase for both Larry and Matt. This is the kind of energy that early S2 was lacking. Also feels like the first ep where East High might actually have a shot at beating North High. Covid restrictions played a role but we really needed to see more rehearsal scenes and scenes of the wildcats just being theatre kids. This also may be one of the last times we see EJ perform as a student in the musical so I’m glad we got this.  

EJ has been criminally underused for most of S2, he’s marketed as part of the big 4 along with Nini, Ricky, and Gina and Matt Cornett’s name is listed 3rd in the credits but in the early eps of S2 you’d think he was guest star. Lately he’s started to become more important and tonight was an excellent showcase of why he’s such an interesting character. I’m not gonna check but this feels like it’s the most EJ screen time in a single ep that we’ve gotten all season long. 

Of course, the main reason for EJ’s increased screen time is because of Portwell. I’ve been neutral on them but tonight they really won me over’ their scenes were so sweet that they warmed even my cold black heart. Matt and Sofia are good friends irl and that shines through in their easy rapport and great chemistry. Gina snorting at EJ’s joke was cute and I loved the shot of Gina accidentally walking into the shot for EJ’s confessional. As an aside, they’ve been doing some fun stuff with the confessionals lately which helps add a bit of the metaness that helped make S1 so great.

The real big Portwell scene tonight was EJ and Gina talking on the couch at Ashlyn’s. Lot’s to love there. Gina’s speech to EJ about what she sees when she thinks of him was sweet and her saying that EJ tried to do the right thing and often failed but kept trying echoes what she said of herself during her confession to Ricky. Also when EJ asked Gina if she understood the feeling of having her life mapped out she replied, ‘’not really’’ which is almost certainly the inspiration for Gina asking a question to EJ and him responding ‘’not really’’ in their pre S2 face time call on the hsmtmts instagram. 

EJ is still wracked with guilt for the guy he used to be but Gina reminds him that he’s grown and is a good guy which leads to her slip up about her seeing him that way vs the rest of the gang hinting that she’s beginning to catch feelings for EJ. Which leads to EJ complimenting her and them having a moment that could well have led to a kiss if Ashlyn hadn’t come home. And they cap it off with Gina falling asleep and EJ covering her with his Duke sweater. 

It’s been nice not seeing Gina upset over Ricky these past two eps and it’s a damning indictment of the poor writing and pacing of S2 that her story in the first 6 eps can be summed up as Gina being upset over something Ricky said or did. Not only has Portwell allowed EJ to rise in prominence but also it’s allowed Gina to escape the rut her character was stuck in pining for Ricky. 

I hope after S2 is over that we get an interview where Tim explains how the Portwell plot came to be. The S1 finale set up some possible interest between them as did the pre S2 face time call but nothing came of it during the first 4 eps, they stood next to each other a lot but barely interacted otherwise. Notably in 2x01, which Tim himself wrote, EJ tries to grow a beard and tells Ashlyn that he says her as so young which is extremely jarring now that we know that EJ is crushing on Gina who is Ashlyn’s age. 

Was Tim not set on doing Portwell until he realized he needed to give Gina something else to do other than hopelessly pine for Ricky? Narratively, it made sense after Rini got together in S1 to put the other two Big 4 characters together in S2 but did Tim not want it to seem so obvious to the audience so he deliberately kept Portwell apart until 2x05 where EJ’s feelings make for a nice plot twist? Was he just reluctant to plug EJ back into the love square due to how much more complicated it would make things but later felt he had no other options? Or was it just plain old bad pacing and writing?

Of course, I wish that there wasn’t such a large age gap between Sofia and Matt but there are no Gina ships that avoid that problem, there’s also an age gap between Sofia and Joshua, just as there was between Olivia and Joshua and Matt in S1. Depending on when they film S3 there’s a good chance that most of it will be finished before Sofia even turns 18 which is deeply unfortunate. There’s a broader issue of teen girls being cast in mostly age appropriate roles while their male love interests are older adults and in particular it often affects female characters of colour. Netflix has a really bad track record with those kind of age gaps but Disney has problems too as we’ve seen on HSMTMTS and on GMW where by the end of S3 they had 18 year old Peyton Meyer as the boyfriend of 14 year old Rowan Blanchard’s character (not to mention canon Joshaya which didn’t have such a bad age gap between the actors but was problematic regarding the ages of the characters themselves).

A knock I’ve seen on Portwell is that EJ is just gonna leave for university next year but that was never gonna happen, Matt’s under the same 4 season contract as all the other mains and he’ll be sticking around in some capacity much like Sharpay ended up doing in the movies. It is true that EJ will probably have to move on at the end of S4 while Gina still has her senior year left but that will also happen with her and Ricky since he’ll be graduating at the end of S4. It was a big mistake to make EJ a senior but it also may end up being a big mistake to make Gina a sophomore. It would have been too messy to retcon EJ to be a junior but Tim probably should have taken the chance to retcon Gina into being a junior in S2.

That Rini breakup was so sad (missed opportunity for gotta go my own way). They managed to get in a Troyella reference with the treehouse. This was inevitable they just have not been communicating well though now that we know that Ricky thought Nini left YAC for him some of his desperation to spend as much time together as possible makes more sense. I think Rini is endgame if the series has 4 seasons but it wouldn't shock me if we never seem them dating again and they only get back together in the series finale. It also wouldn’t surprise me if Nini never dates anyone else for the remainder of the series or at least not seriously. 

We’re not even halfway through the series so it’s way too early to permanently slam the door on Rini though this time apart will probably help Joshua and Olivia move on from their own bitter break up before it bleeds too much into their performances. I do wonder if Tim really has a clue what he's gonna do with them for the remaining 24-28 eps of the series, assuming S3 and S4 have 10-12 eps each. 

Roman Banks killed If I Can’t Love Her and the montage of all the couples or ex couples was great.

It was nice to finally meets some parents other than the Bowen’s and Salazar-Roberts’. Kourtney’s mom was played by Dara’s actual mother and their dynamic was great as expected. It seems from their conversation that Kourtney's father is dead which I don’t believe has been mentioned before. Cash Caswell.... well it gets what the character is about across. He really looks and sounds like a rich Utah republican, I bet he knows Mitt Romney personally. I liked EJ going to tell his father that he’s not going to Duke and recognizing that he wants to build his own life on his own merits. 

We saw a bit of that S1 Miss Jenn energy tonight which was fun though I didn't like how curt she was with Seb nor did I like how rude Carlos was to Seb although we know that blows up in 2x10. 

Jazzara rising! I really liked how Jazzara and Portwell are sort of mirroring each other and since Mazzara knows about EJ’s feelings for Gina it wouldn’t shock me if helping EJ out is part of him showing a softer side in 2x12.

Of course Ashlyn is VP of the Nostradamus society. It's clear her family has some kooky new age beliefs (her parents are probably members of some naturopathic medicine group on Facebook that doubles as a gateway into Qanon)

It was nice to see Big Red being such a good friend to Ricky and the return of Ricky’s infamous pillow hugs. Lmao at Ashlyn just chilling while Big Red is comforting Ricky

Also Miss Jenn saying sexy and Big Red referring to pillow talk, the writers are adding a bit of spice when cooking up these scripts.

Looking Ahead: 

Looks like Gina may be wearing EJ's duke sweater next ep according to some posts I saw. Jack presumably is there to somehow help Gina decide what she wants with Ricky and EJ though him having wanderlust might also feed into Gina’s thoughts on settling down in SLC or moving with her mom around the country.

Let's see what mom of the year, Lynne Bowen, has up her sleeves. Ricky’s bedroom at her place in Chicago looks much nicer than the apartment Mike Bowen has so perhaps she makes a lot more money than he does. 

Not looking forward to the Zoom portions of the ep but I guess it was inevitable. 

There’s only two paths for Gina’s story to go in the remainder of this season; either she decides to move on from Ricky and give EJ a chance or she decides that Ricky is worth trying again and squelches her budding feelings for EJ. The former looks much more likely after tonight’s ep but either way it needs to be handled with care. Inevitably Gina and Ricky need to talk about what happened between them but if Tim really wants Ricky to continue being a viable love interest or even a good friend to Gina then he needs to really have Ricky apologize and show a thoughtful, kinder side of him that’s largely been missing this season. 

What I think Tim is doing is setting up Portwell getting together in 2x12 but Ricky pining over Gina until Portwell break up late S3 and Rina get together in the S3 finale before they break up later in S4 and Ricky gets back with Nini near the end of the series. If I had Tim’s ear I would tell him that he should pick which ship he wants to do, Rina or Portwell, but don’t do both. He wants canon Rina? Great then end Portwell before it starts and have Rina happen in S3 and introduce other obstacles to them getting together rather than having to damage EJ’s character and make him lose another girl he likes to Ricky. He wants canon Portwell? Great then have Gina and Ricky’s conversation be closure for the both of them and have Gina and EJ get together and break them up without Ricky being a cause of it or waiting in the wings to get with Gina soon afterwards. Doing both will be a disaster and I truly hope that Tim Federle carefully thinks over his mistakes in S2 and really plans out the remaining 2 seasons of the series while there’s still time to prevent things from going really off the rails like GMW and AM did thanks to the bad decisions of Michael Jacobs and Terri Minsky. 

Until next week wildcats. 

[bloodypapercut]

despise (f.w. x reader)

this is my first fic! yayy! i hope all you angels enjoy. have a wonderful day or night and take care of your beautiful selves! :)

word count: 4.5k 

I despised Fred Weasley. Upon this discovery, I always questioned the veracity of my feelings towards him. It was never in my nature to be hateful, if anything I was known for being kind, caring, and helpful. Perhaps at times, I could be a little aloof, but that was simply due to the fact that my mind was always elsewhere. Never in my life had I felt so strongly about someone, better yet hate someone so fervently. Oftentimes I would feel guilty for scoffing at every remark he made, or rolling my eyes when he would flash his infamous coquettish smile. I abhorred him, it’s not like I made the decision to by my own volition, I couldn’t help it. I’m aware of how this sounds, a typical loathsome teenager who hated the boy who has attention, the boy who has people falling at his feet, the boy with a lot of friends and a close family. It wasn’t that, no not at all. I had my reasons.

--------

   I had never been more excited. I could barely keep the grin off my face as my legs swung back and forth, my heels hitting the seat. It was my first time being away from home, my desire to practice my independence as an 11-year-old was being fulfilled by the second. Looking out the window as the trees grew thicker and predictions of what the year could hold running through my mind a repulsive scent filled my cabin, thick smoke cloaked my vision and settled on my skin and robes. My violent coughs and labored breathing created a cacophony as the sound of hushed giggling and footsteps sounded from outside the door. My shaking hands made haste to dust off the soot, horrified of what others would think of me when I arrived at Hogwarts. A dirty and poor mudblood. I had expected the worst after hearing the stories my mother told me from working at the ministry, how could anyone disrespect someone I loved so dearly? The fear of being called out in such a hostile way and being looked down upon by potential friends caused my chest to tighten and sobs to violently rack my body. Not to mention the guilt I felt for getting my brand new robes dirty, especially knowing my mother worked extra shifts to get them.

   Stepping out of the Hogwarts express I was met with a tall man, guiding me along with other students to the boats. The soot hadn’t disappeared completely but I had gotten as much as I could off. The boat ride was pleasant. I had acquainted with a girl named Luna along the way, she was an idiosyncratic girl but I appreciated her kindness and her curious comments about sea creatures. I felt relieved that someone was talking to me without judging me based on my appearance, but the sadness I felt about my dirty robes still lingered over me.

   Looking up at the enchanted sky of the great hall I’ve never felt so enthralled by something. It was just as wonderful as my mom had described, I couldn’t wait to write to her all about it. But as I approached the front of the hall I felt dread put a weight around my ankles, I would have to stand up in front of everyone with my soiled robes. My uneasiness produced a scowl on my face and I could have sworn the familiar giggling was right behind me, but as I whipped my head around there was no one that seemed to be responsible for it.

“Now, when I call your names I will ask you to come forward, be seated on the stool, be sorted by the sorting hat, and after you will continue to your house table.”

I felt guilty that I wasn’t paying attention to my peers being sorted but my unease wracked at me, the ends of my sweater tangling between my fingers and the heel of my shoe being ground against the tiled floor.

“Y/N L/N”

Sighing I stepped forward, the giggles resonating once again making me stumble slightly. The lady at the front, whose name I had failed to remember, gave me a tight smile and waited for me to be seated. As the weight of the sorting hat pressed against my head I saw it. A trio of boys, 2 identical and one with dreads giggling, their soot covered hands coming up to their faces as they analyzed my robes. They must’ve felt my gaze because one of the twins and the boy with dreads stopped, but one continued, only laughing harder and looking right back at me. There, that was the moment I knew I would end up hating this ginger boy.

I had been so preoccupied with burning holes into his eyes that I had failed to recognize the incessant tapping on my shoulder and the dying cheers of the students sitting on a table at the far right of the room. Snapping my head towards the stern lady behind me. I hopped off the seat and rushed to the table that I assumed belonged to my house, which I didn’t know since I wasn’t listening. My face grew warm and my hands became sweaty with how tight my fists were clenched. I sat down quietly, never taking my eyes off that git.

That’s how he ruined my first highlight at Hogwarts.

--------

My second year was going just as I had planned. I had been practicing for Quidditch during the summer with my best mates Cho, Graham, and Julian (as Luna tried to befriend the gnomes, which didn’t end so pleasantly). I was convinced that I had improved greatly since my first chaotic flying lesson at Hogwarts. I was so sure of my skills, that I was unperturbed about trying out for my house team. That was a big mistake.

Going into compromising situations with nonchalance, knowing that the Weasley twins are in the same vicinity as you is a foolish, doltish mistake that anyone can be a victim to. I had been a victim to many of the playful endeavours during my first year and I thought that it was all over. Maybe they were mature now and knew when to stop. Thinking about it now makes me laugh, what a pretty lie I told myself.

It was the final cut for the team and I smiled as I gripped my broom, ignoring the splinter that found a place to reside in my thumb. The captain walked around smiling softly at all of us as she explained what the final tryout would entail. I clung to every word and as soon as she asked for a volunteer, my hand soared.

Tendrils of hair whipped around my face as I bolted to get the quaffle and shoot it into a hoop. I could hear words of praise from my friends on the ground and it only made me go a little faster, smiling as the quaffle passed by me. In an instant I spun my broom around, sending the ball flying to a hoop as the end struck it. I continued playing, doing tricks to show the captain I belonged on the team, I was so captured and focused that I didn’t notice the ball of fire that was in front of me, I also didn’t notice the screaming and shouts of warning from the ground but even when I did it was too late. Being faced with the fire ball it took me by surprise causing me to slip off my broom and fall a rough 20 feet from the sky.

The sound of a crack should have been the main sound that plagued my ears but it wasn’t, the pain radiating in my arm should have been enough for me to realize my arm could have been broken but it also wasn’t. At that moment I was verklempt because all I could hear was that notorious giggle and all I felt was a ferocious vindictive ball of anger swelling inside of me. In that moment I was certain that I deplored that Weasley boy.  

“L/N are you okay??”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine let me just get back on my broom and finish my try out. Please, I really wanna make the team.”

“No! Are you mental? You can't! You have to go to Madam Pomfrey now.”

“No please let me finish, I have to make the team.”

“You’re on the team kid, you’re talented but for the love of Merlin please go your arm looks horrible.”

--------

The stems of the flowers felt smooth in my hand and the soft petals grazed my nose as I inhaled its scent. I had never been given this much attention by someone and I had to admit it felt good. Getting mysterious notes everyday, serendipitous boxes of sweets on my bed and something to giggle about with my friends. The only thing that was covert was who it was coming from. I knew how they felt about me, I knew they were in all my classes and I knew that he was a Hufflepuff. I felt excited coming to my dorm, anticipating a note on my bedside table or a flower on my pillow. It all seemed a little too good to be true, and a part of me nagged, telling me it was just another Weasley prank.

After reading copious articles about wolfsbane, due to Snape’s unreasonable wrath, my head felt numb. I dragged my feet to reach my common room and after answering the riddle I stepped through the entrance ready to fling myself onto the couch.

“Hey.” It was James Abernathy, my seat partner in potions and herbology, and he was in all my other classes. His presence confused me, he wasn’t permitted into this common room, he was a Hufflepuff. Upon this realization, a ball of excitement spun in my body. Could it possibly be him? He was the epitome of my dream guy, but with my history in Hogwarts my gut told me that this was too good to be true.

“...hi? What would you need?”

“Actually can I speak to you outside?”

“Uh..yeah? Sure I guess.” He nodded curtly and walked towards to exit, letting me trail behind him. Thoughts flooded quickly, leaving me in anticipation for what he would possibly have to say to me. The idea of it being him excited me, but he had a bit of a reputation. Not that I thought he was incapable of holding interest in someone for longer than a week, it just seemed unlikely that it would be me of all people.

“It’s me.”He chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, the veins being accentuated as he tugged at the ends lightly.

I remained silent, awfully confused and in disbelief.

“You?” He nods quickly. My head was spinning and I couldn’t pinpoint how I felt or how to react. How could it be collected, witty, dallying and charming James Abertnathy, has taken an interest in me? It was hard to believe, it was so unlikely that I just knew it was too good to be true. Someone like me never goes with someone like James, that’s just how it is. Despite that my judgement was clouded by excitement, never had anything so romantic occurred in my life, the thought of having someone like James as a partner was a dream I thought I deserved to live out.

“Wow, that’s lovely um..”

“So what do you say to a day at Hogsmeade?” The echo of his footsteps sounded as he drew nearer to hold my limp hands in his, running his thumb over my knuckles.

“She says no, more into redheads you see.” My neck could have snapped with the velocity at which my head turned. Of course, of course he had to be just around the corner. Of course he had to be hiding behind a pillar, probably running away from Filch after terrorizing an innocent student or professor. How could I be so blind, so naive? I couldn’t have anything good, because he existed. Looking up I was met with the smile that seemed to frequent his face, he waved comically as James huffed and walked away. I couldn’t help the quiver of my lip as I watched him revel in the joy he got from terrorizing me.

“W-why would you do that?” I couldn’t meet his eyes, but I could feel them on me. I couldn’t stand to look at him because I knew if I did I'd slap him so hard that even the lines on my hands would be imprinted on his face for weeks.  

“Because he wanted 15 galleons and you wanted him, it would have never worked darling.” Fred was lying, I knew it. James was popular but not an absolute prick. He lost interest in people, he didn’t place bets on them. 

“What are you on about? He..he wouldn’t.”

“Oh but he would, 15 galleons is one hell of a price.” He chortled, patting my head. I had gotten used to his belittling comments and I usually remained stoic, but it hurt hearing I was worth nothing more than 15 galleons, and hearing him confirm that just hurt even more.

“What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much? Ever since I got here you’ve been nothing but hellish to me. I’ve done nothing to you, I’ve never even had a full conversation with you! Merlin, this is the most we’ve ever spoken so please, Fred,  just tell me what it is I’ve done so I can apologize and you can bloody stay away from me.” My breath hitched, my hands shook and I felt disappointed in myself for losing my composure.

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing at all it’s just-” His continuous patting on my head had stopped and his hand rested on my shoulder, which I shrugged off immediately upon realizing its presence.

“What? Just what, what could I have possibly done for me to deserve this. Do you know that I have never written to my mother about a single good thing that has happened to me here, and you know why? It’s because of you! You selfish git!”

“Listen the only reason I did those things was because I wanted your attention.”

“And why on earth would you want that?”

“Isn’t it obvious I fancy you, like a lot?” He threw his head back lightly as he crossed his arms. His nonchalance was palpable, and I just knew that he thought he had won, he thought that I would suddenly change my demeanor and drop to my knees thanking Merlin he liked me. Unfortunately for him, he was dead wrong, sure he was attractive, very in fact but his personality made him the most repulsive and hideous human I could ever be faced with.

“Oh? Really? You’re going to pull that card? So you’re telling me the reason you were an insufferable twat for 3 years, was because you were too much of a coward to divulge your feelings? I find that very hard to believe, you’re practically known to be brazen without fail so why?”

“Because you’re you! You’re known to be indifferent, how would I ever get you to feel strongly about me in any way when you disregard everyone who tries to get close to you?”

“Well uh I don't know?! Maybe have a conversation with me? Ask me about my day? You could have done literally anything other than cause affliction on me for years. You ruined some of the best possible moments of my life, and I’m not going to let some sodding excuse of you liking me disregard that!”

“Love, please just lis-”

“I am not your love and I will not listen! What on earth did I expect from you? How could I be so stupid?! You’re right, you’re you and I’m me. And I know that I would never do anything to merit the havoc I’ve had to endure and I know that you’re only treating me like rubbish because you’re a bored little boy, who doesn’t ever get enough attention so you have to terrorize innocent people to fulfill some fantasy of achievement and success. A fantasy I know you will never achieve because you care about nothing but ruining the lives of others.”

He looked back at me vacantly, and for the first time, I knew that I had gotten the upper hand. In a way it felt good, it was like the revenge I’d been craving for years. Yet the other half of me knew it was wrong, to berate someone so zealously without listening to their side. I knew I had gone overboard and I knew the guilt would consume me later, but the memories of reading the first letter my mom had owled me fled in. The overwhelming guilt I had felt for asking her for new robes after the soot wouldn’t get out, the embarrassment of nearly missing the team from falling off my broom due to a fireball, and the insecurity I currently felt, after hearing that I’m worth only 15 galleons prevented me from holding back. I felt too much and had too little time to process it.

“Please just-”

“Fred, do you not understand what I’m saying? You’ve never failed to humiliate me and you’ve regarded me with nothing but disdain and contempt, I never said anything because I wanted to be polite but you know what? You don't deserve my patience or manners. You’ve never listened to anyone but your thick obdurate skull, but you know what you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen well. I HATE YOU! Now leave me alone.” I stormed off muttering the answer to the riddle once more and rushed to my dorm shutting the door and curling under my blanket. I could hear the footsteps of my roommate apprehensively approaching me. Her hand resting on my arm.

“Fred?”

“Fred.”

“Git.”

I felt nothing but guilt as I fell asleep that night. Fred was still human and though he was horrible to me, I could understand why he did those things, though they weren’t justified and I would personally never do it. Ron had told me before about how his brother was, how he really was a good person. Someone driven, thoughtful, kind, and creative. How he was a great older brother, especially to Ginny. I realized how hurtful my words were, and I regretted them immensely. 

--------

Hermione and Ron never failed to put on a spectacle for everyone around them. Whether it be arguing about the definition of a word or how barbaric wizards chess is, they always disagreed. So it wasn’t a real surprise when I walked in the great hall for breakfast when I heard their strident bickering from halfway across the room. Walking closer to them, the words they threw at each other became distinguishable.

“‘Mione- no! Listen, you’re not listening I’m telling you he does he really does!!”

“You never fail to prove your fatuous way of thinking Ronald. I mean I would understand literally anyone else, I mean she’s all angel but not him. He’s absolutely horrible to her. Why would you think such a thing?” Deciding to be nosy and sit here instead of my house table I sat next to Harry, nudging his shoulder as he snickered.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He nodded, handed me a roll and pushed his cup of pumpkin juice towards me.

“Any idea what they’re on about?”

“An inkling.” He smirked.

“Not talking huh?”

“Mhmm. Just listen I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“He’s my brother, I know how he is around people he likes- loves. He’s an arse to us, yeah, it’s in his nature, but behind our backs he would do anything for us. He just doesn’t want us knowing.”

“Oh wow Ronald, you’re gonna compare his love for you to his ‘love’ for her? How ridiculous.”

“No-bloody hell no! Don’t twist my words, what I’m saying is I know what he’s trying to do. The amount of times he’s stood up for her behind her back, you’d think he’s her puppy. Do you know how many people he’s hexed and pranked for her. Remember he gave Flint boils for a month after he called her a mudblood after a match? Or when he beat up Mullard...and Nilesmith and- Merlin I could go on and on. C’mon, he’d never do that for someone he hated.”

“Okay fine maybe...since when did you care so much about the relationships of others?”

“She’s our best friend! And he’s a git that needs to be calmed down, but you know he never does so if we end this now it’ll be better for all of us.”

“Wow Ron, you’ve unlocked the capacity to sympathize with other humans.”

I knew it was about Fred, and I knew it was about me.

Swallowing the unchewed bite of bread in my mouth and gulping down the rest of Harry’s juice I rushed out of the great hall, not in the mood to be reminded of Fred. Not in the mood to process what I had just heard. 

--------

The Triwizard Tournament. A time for friendship, unity and excitement. Ever since the Beauxbaton girls and Durmstrang boys came to Hogwarts the energy had been different. Something promising lingered in the air. Things truly felt different this year, and I’m sure they would be. There was so much to look forward to. New friends, the tournament itself and the Yule Ball. My excitement and joy for the new school year couldn’t be smothered, even by the fact that I had detention every evening for 2 weeks. I suppose reading in the restricted section after hours wasn’t the wisest thing, especially considering it wasn’t my first time getting caught. So here I was, using a brush no bigger than my pinky to polish cauldrons, the bristles getting thick and grimy from the remaining ingredients left in the dents of the cast iron. Humming to myself I let my thoughts wander to how exhilarating the ball will be, how fun it will be to dance with all of my friends, how pleasant it will be dressed up. Nothing could possibly spoil that not even Fred Weasley, I wouldn’t allow it.

   It had been at least an hour, my hands were cramped and I was anticipating the completion of my 30 minutes left until I could rush to my dorm. I had finished cleaning and now I was left sitting here, vacantly twirling the brush with my fingers. The minutes couldn’t possibly go slower but as I heard the offbeat footsteps that I had grown accustomed to looking out for I knew that my night was going to be much longer than anticipated. Once I heard them I knew to evacuate, but being stuck in the trophy room I had no choice but to stay, Snape’s unreasonable derision wasn’t worth the fuss. The tiny brush I was forced to clean threatened to snap as my grip tightened. When the footsteps came to a halt, the unease in the room multiplied by 5. Without a word, there was the sound of shuffling, a drawer being opened and a brush being grabbed. It took 10 dreadful minutes for him to finally speak. As soon as the first syllable dripped from his mouth I couldn’t hold back a sigh, of relief or apprehension, I’m not sure.

“So what color are you wearing to the ball?”

“Sod off Weasley.” I grumbled, straightening my back. Another 10 minutes of silence followed.

“I’m sorry...I know I’ve been a foul, detestable and painfully foolish ass. I know that whatever I do it will never be enough to prove that I never had any bad intent behind my actions. I know you think I’m a no-good inconsiderate twat who doesn’t care about anyone, that I’m bound to fail and I deserve that. The things I’ve done to you are absolutely horrible. But Y/N please, please believe me, I never did any of that to harm you. Just please give me one chance, just one and I swear if I mess it up I will leave you alone forever.” I barely understood a word he said, it was so rapid but I clung onto everyone as best as I could.

“Why should I?”

“It’s selfish, to ask for so much after all I’ve done but I know that you’re the most intelligent, kind, resilient and beautiful person I’ve ever encountered. And my feelings towards you aren’t enough to ever justify what I’ve done. I know that I have ruined every year of your time here, but please please please give me one chance to make the rest of your years remarkable. To let you live out the highlights you deserve, so you can write to your mother about how much fun you had going to hogsmeade, or how amazing the Yule Ball was, or-”

“You’re asking me to the ball?”

“If you’ll have me.” My breath hitched and I let my brush drop, and for the first time since that night I had divulged my hatred for him, I looked him in the eye as I stepped closer. I remained silent and did nothing but look at him, every twitch of his eye, every rise and fall of his chest, I had to see it, I had to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate game that he wanted me to lose at. It must’ve been at least 5 minutes because  his face dropped and his chest deflated,  he turned to leave but before he could I ran in front of him. Nodding my head yes, I held his face, running my thumb over his freckled cheek.

“This is for Flint.” I whispered as I slowly neared his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead after brushing his hair to the side. His arm wrapped around my waist.

“Mullard.” Another to each of his temples.

“Nilesmith.” The tip of his nose.

“And every other person you stood up against for me, even after everything I said to you and even though I never knew about any of it.” The corner of his mouth. His eyelashes flutter against my cheek.

“And this is for taking me to the ball.” I looked into his eyes, searching for confirmation that it was alright to continue, he squeezed my wrist in confirmation. It was warm and sweet, safe and pure. It was filled with passion, all the things we have yet to admit to the other was translated into this moment. I wanted him to feel the admiration I had for his confidence to stand up for the ones he loved to whoever defied them, every freckle on his face, every laugh that would emerge from the back of his throat, the calluses on his hands, the determination in his heart, the respect and love he had for everyone, hidden behind all of his playful antics. We pulled apart, laughing softly and refusing to let go of each other. Our foreheads pressed together and we hugged tightly, our arms refusing to release the other. I had never felt so warm, so elated, so appreciated. It was odd, especially coming from him, but I accepted it. I had never accepted any feelings towards Fred that were positive, but now I let them in freely without shame or denial.

“I can’t believe I used to despise you.”

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

ok bhah ch11 my longest yeah boi ever

i’m literally... so excited I can’t even read it ok ok

oh no not the wedding invitations not this

i swear to god if we have to go through this wedding. knifeemoji

listen I have a fear that we’re gonna get the break up and the car accident same as canon dear god don’t put us through that either

no fears *literally everything that could make bhah more painful* several fears dot meme

god not the jamie invite. she cant even do it. another sign from god you are choosing to ignore

straight to Jamie’s house oh

lmao the red door I just worked out that’s a hill house reference from when I was wondering in like ch3(?) lol the inner workings of my dumbass brain never stop

“can we talk?” it’s happening what is happening

Dani was so tired of lying oh my god

my heart is literally beating so fast

alone in Jamie’s room bro wtf wtf

Jamie is just so soft and understanding always always aaaahhhhh

fuck she just wants out of this wedding so bad but she can’t even tell him

AAAHHH SHE KISSED HER OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING

fuck fgkjhdfkjgh this is not good oh no. Dani finally finally fucking doing something for herself and Jamie so aware that this cannot be happening like this right now

and yet both of them just falling into it anyway oh my goddddd

jesus christ jesus christ “Dani had half crawled into Jamie’s lap, kissing her with a fierce and fervent heat” I am on deaths door

god they’ve both wanted this for so so so so long I can’t believeeeeee

(i am so thrilled that y’all just went there right away btw)

“Please, just - I just want to feel how I’m supposed to.” oucchhhh Dani

god her just... knowing. after one kiss w Jamie that she can finally do it and talk to him and end it and it’s so terrifying but goddd yes

“You think I can ever say no to you?” oof

“Ask,” Jamie breathed. “Ask me.” fucking fuck the power of this line oh my god Jamie is so fucking ready to jump of a bridge for her it’s- the dedication the love the longing the everything I am going insane is it too early to start drinking at 1pm

you’re not you can’t NOT THE CANON DINER SCENE

fuck this is like watching a car crash i can’t look away it’s so fucking visceral and nerve-wracking and painful

but god I’m so proud of her for finally saying what she wants

oh thank fuck y’all didn’t take him out with a passing delivery truck

“You must have known. You know me.” oh god this sentiment always kills me

“She couldn’t say it — the words ‘I’m gay’ forever out of reach — so instead she said, “I can’t.”” my whole body is on fire oh my god this is.... too fucking real

jesus christ the near miss w the truck are u trying to kill me (i actually kind of love that Dani will have to deal w her feelings w him face to face instead of having to bury it all in grief like in canon I am so excited to see how y’all handle that)

a fucking HOUR in the car dfkjghdfkjh the torture

oh honey. literally both of them suffering so much ouch

her favourite saucepan pls this is all so awful and sad but that make me laugh so much the poor confused little duck I am glad she has her comforts

god poor Dani

"Is she here to cook something?"  fgkjdhfkgjhfkjgdf

“No. I think you’re brave.” oh

“We’ll figure it out." listen listen I am undoubtedly losing my mind god this is soft

“She had spent so long being asked and not asking. Never asking. She never dared. To ask was to be known, to be made visible, words forging reality as surely as a smith’s hammer. And yet Jamie waited, letting Dani gather the courage herself.

"Can I -?" Dani said, "- stay?"” please fuck I am just so !!!!!!!! about Dani getting to know what she wants and having a fucking voice. just !!!!!!!!

“Jamie inviting her in” fucking just both of them finally getting some of that quiet courage w each other I am yelling so much

“Dani knew that it wasn't just her feeling this, that it had never just been her.” YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT BABEY

““But you do?” Dani asked. “Want to?”

Jamie’s answering laugh was brief and incredulous. “You have no idea.”” I AM: HOOTIN. AND: HOLLERIN

“I am here” hello? hello I am not coping I am on another plane of existence. DANI FINALLY FEELING SO PRESENT AND WHOLE IN THIS MOMENT

god they’re just holding each other i’m tearing up. Jamie is her home

Dani finally sleeping through the night ow my fucking heart

Mikey’s so chill about all of this sdkdhfdkj I love him

Jamie going out n buying her favourite jam... god the tenderness. love is stored in the strawberry jam and the hairdryer

hmmmmm her attraction to Jamie is so closely tied to a lot of really hard feelings this is gonna take a bit to work through huh???

aw Jamie going to Carson I am so happy she has her little band of gays to help her rn

I love that she can just kiss her now when she gets the urge like maybe chill out a lil just landing all these surprise kisses but like good for u girl. good for both of u

the warmth of the house hmmmmm I love that she’s found this esp because she is perpetually cold and Jamie is always warm but keeps it like that for the kid (and probably for Dani too) aaahhhh

cgjkdfhkjgh Dani is so thirsty poor Jamie trying to keep them in check. these moments are so fucking loaded holy shit

Dani Jamie and Mikey are the cuuutest lil family aw

god the tentativeness between them trying to figure this all out and the casual intimacy and just. all of it is so much and so beautiful to watch unfold

i love this little bubble inside Jamie’s house and Jamie kind of drawing the curtains around them both physically and metaphorically while she lets Dani figure things out and lets it settle between them

it’s all about the hands

oh my god Hannah instantly asking if she needs a place to stay she really is the best

soft little mornings with her Jamie like... once Dani finally defeats the ball of guilt in her chest there is so much goodness to look forward to and I am v glad she has that right now even as she is still struggling a bit. my girl needs all the sweetness in her life

also the idea of Jamie getting to wake up to sleeping Dani in her bed every morning after a lifetime of trying to repress her feelings... god

heh she’s already figuring out all the ways to push Jamie’s buttons god these two are going to have some fun w each other

this idea of learning the creaking floorboards of a new home is so... warm

Jamie leaving all the curtains drawn for her oh my heart keeping her safe keeping her safe

Nan would be so proud of ms Dani u know it’s true

awww Mikey comin home to keep her company

Mikey Dani time is always so sweet I love them

my god Dani n Jamie are so intense w each other and just so full of fucking desire... when those floodgates finally open will they even survive

oof Dani is dealing with soooo much ugh. Jamie always there with a gentle way to bring her back down to earth tho my hearrrtttt

“You’re allowed to be happy.” she is SHE IS ty Jamie Taylor voice of reason

a pinky promise to deal with everything together awwww

“why are you so good to me” “you know why” oh my goddddddd. that’s so soft that’s so gentle that’s so much love

Dani finding little bits in herself in media god i love this

Dani Mikey hours best hours

god Carson... sweet boy. And Judy sending over a whole bunch of food oof just. these quiet little reminders of their love for her. Dani’s about to go through a whole bunch more emotions huh?

fkjdfkjgfh Mikey going into protector mode when Carson is there pls i love hm

ohmy “our room” aaaaaaahhhhh

god Dani expecting him to be upset with her I am so fucking emotional. I relate far too much to Dani in canon and in this story and it’s just. painful as hell to see someone go through the things you know hurt the most holy shit

please Carson is so sweet and understanding and telling her he’s proud of her is making me cry so much I can barely see

this whole like.. uncomfortable but relief-filled kind of coming out between her and Carson is so so beautifully done I can’t stop fucking crying

“God, you two were agony to watch.”  fglkdfgkjdfhkjgh Carson a voice of the people

“You deserve to be happy.” - Carson and also me and also everyone reading this

god he is so wonderful!!!!!! this reminder that she’s not alone and everything will be ok!!!!!!! Carson I love you so much

the box being described as “the beating heart of their childhood“ god the imagery

Jamie so sweetly making room for her and welcoming her into a home I am emotional again the tears have really been unlocked now I’m gonna be a mess the whole rest of this chapter (i say as if I haven’t been already)

the really sweet way Jamie gets her to open up and trust her with the things that have been on her mind

and Dani doing the same for her god this gentle honest space between them makes my heart feel so full I am just so happy that they’ve got each other

“I want you to stay.” please (also now I’m thinking about AE putting Stay on her Jamie playlist jesus christ I am being tortured)

they get... to wake up.... in bed together. i’m so close to crying again when will this stop

i kind of love there hasn’t really been any like... just no more kissing u know but we still get this insane intimacy between them in a way that’s not them shying away from the way they want each other but so carefuly and sweetly and honestly coming towards each other

awww them always waking up all tangled is so cuuute (also Dani feeling so safe and comfy with her that her subconscious is like lets latch on she is good she is home)

lmao Dani having to mediate between these two dweebs and their playfights is so good

Jamie having her lil family surrounding her aww

(also i just noticed the rating change oh god)

sfkjfhdg Jamie looking at her hips all dark eyes and wanting we’ve all been there girl

“you can look” BOLD DANI MY BELOVED

god these two........ the grabbing her silver chain god @ google how to breathe properly??????

“Then show me.” oh my god

fkgjhdfkj so much electricity they shorted out the power

“this is just as nice” when they’re just hugging please they are so soft

i love that there’s just like... gentle soft banter between them in these quiet moments so much

“Dani, give him more homework.”  ghrfjkhjgkjgh

god the heated cheek kiss

this ‘game of chicken’ god they’re just.... really in it huh this is so fun

hmmm Dani going through the suitcases and sort of being able to bring some of herself/her past into this new place is so nice

heh this lil family and their snowfights are so cute

:( she can’t bring herself to eat Judy’s food

Jamie bringing her flowers oh soft

ugh they’re just so softly melting into being together it’s so sweeeeeeeet

“You’re lovely.” and the way Jamie just sinks into her with Dani’s fingers in her hair pleeease I am dying this is so warm

aaaahhhh they’re dancing soft soft soft

“gray eyes fluttered closed, as though the weight of Dani’s touch was too much to bear” god i am..... aaaahhhh

“a gentle calm settling within her. It had seemed that for all her life she had waited for the quiet of this” y’all this is so beautiful and lovely and wonderful and all the good things

ah that kiss. kinda feels like their first real kiss where they just get to be god I am so happy “a profound sense of finally” oh oh oh that’s such a pretty concept

god I love how much they just want each other that second kiss and them just all over each other is perfect and having to try and reel that in and being able to because they know it’s not going anywhere please it’s so so good

god Dani vs Desert Hearts I love this callback and the entirely different circumstances of her watching it again

dsjfhdkjfh oh no Dani losing her mind at Jamie touching her knee god these two have got the biggest storm coming

dfkdjhkgdjh god them like.... trying to take things slow but still letting things happen while having to be aware of Mikey is so funny but I kinda love it and how indicative it all is of them being so grown up and able to approach their relationship in such a mature way. as much as I wish they’d had their teenage love story I do like that it’s unfolding this way now.

“it struck Dani then that she couldn’t remember ever laughing while doing this.” aww

Mikey’s “oh gross” hahahaha poor kid

god this is so funny

“ferret kid” jamie why are u like this sfkjhdfkjf

oh lordt it seems we have reached the unabashedly horny phase good show ol’ chaps

god they’re still so soft tho this is so fun to read

i looove how flustered they both make each other w just their presence. it’s just so !!!!!!

lmao Dani knowing exactly what to do to drive Jamie insane is fdkgfdkjgh perfect amazing show stopping more neck kisses more teasing more barely restrained desire i love it

“the reckless rush of being in each other’s arms” AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

lmaooooo Mikey Jamie is going to lock you outside if u keep doing this

the fact it can just fade back to comfortable companionship too is like. ugh i love them together

“Yeah. You can touch me whenever you want.” oh jesus

“No more interruptions, no more waiting, no more holding back.” it’s happening god it’s happening everyone stay calm (also the slow build to this point has been so fucking perfect y’all are writerly geniuses)

lmao Dani is like please can we just get naked why do u want to watch a movie I am literally right here

oh she is not waiting anymore THAT’S MY GIRL GO GET EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER WANTED I LOVE YOU

“What do you want?” god the tension

aaaaahhhhh just. them being so out of their minds with want but still all nervous and wanting to check in but still just. wanting this so much god this is *chef’s kiss*

lmao Dani already having the hair pulling thing figured out is so good. poor Jamie lol is she even going to survive this

god the fact they’re both still fully clothed n still getting this fucked up just making out n grinding on each other I love this for them

mum just came in to tell me dinner is ready I AM ALREADY EATIN GOOD

lmao fuck I am just... so thrilled for Dani finally getting to experience this get ur whole world rocked baby u deserve this

thumb in her mouth i-

“my idiot” pls that’s so soft

“You have me.” i know this is like. horny but it’s also so romantic sfgkjhdfkjg

ayoooo Jamie’s tattoo excuse me while I lose my mind a lil bit

my god Dani is so impatient to get her naked I love her for it so much “I just want to feel you”... ma’am

Jamie being all nervous is so cute aw

god having this lil moment where they just call each other beautiful n get all cute about it while they’re fully naked n grinding on each other.... perfection

god I can’t stop thinking about every other mention of Dani having sex w Eddie and it just being like adequate or like her not letting him touch her and now LOOK AT MY BABY GO SHE’S REALLY HAVIN THE TIME OF HER LIFE LITERALLY BEGGING TO BE TOUCHED LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO

I feel like I’m like cheering Jamie on rn sfjkghdfkj u guys need anything? some snacks? a condom?? ur doing great!!

Dani crying and thanking her like this is an acceptance speech love that for her

Jamie kissing all over her face aww

I can’t believe this whole chapter is them just getting to fall in love for real

“I want to taste you” i am blushing goddamn Jamie get it

oh my god the dream. she’s literally living out her dreams

“that same focused intensity that could make kingdoms fall” I love that Jamie is just as into getting Dani off as Dani is getting off lmao GOOD FOR THEM

Dani: desperately tryin to get Jamie off. Jamie: are u sure u want to tho??? miss ma’am let the girl touch u already she deserves it (but i do love that she’s always just like.... never wanting to make Dani do anything she doesn’t wholeheartedly want to)

“You sitting here on top of me like this is doing more for me than you can imagine.”  iconic jamie moment

Jamie literally just like.... ‘you can do whatever you want to figure this out’ is so sweet I love her capacity for just. giving herself over to Dani in every way (not just the horny ones) to let her forge her own path

“It was easy to understand now, the exhilaration of it, why people went crazy for it.” god I love this for her so much everything just falling into place

they’re so soft n comfy together and it’s all just so right and lovely

i love that once they’ve started they basically can’t stop honestly get it girls u deserve all the orgasms

“When did you know?” “Sixteen years.” oof my heart she’s known the whole time aaahhhh. all these lil memories god it really was all out of love I could cry. and Jamie admitting the scarf/scar thing whew she really carried around that moment on her face for the whole world to see (also lol at Dani being so fixated on it this whole time that’s so perfect)

heh they’re so cute with their lil teasing banter exchange

lol goddamn this so so spicy I am just dfklghfjkdjghkjdf (that is to say well fucking done I can’t even speak rn)

Jamie just being like you could literally just look at me and I am turned on I... love this whole situation for her so much

god they’re really just going all in Dani is getting like the.... lesbian sex speed run amen

oh god not Karen on the phone just hang up Dani do it do it

god she is so evil

omg she told her abt Jamie go off Dani I am v v proud of u right now

and she hung up on her godbless babe i LOVE your audacity

heh Jamie so transfixed by Dani’s lil purple sweater and skirt I love her

Dani u are such a tease sfkgjdfkg good 4 u tbh

awwww she got Dani’s desk for her oh my god that’s so lovely

Dani n Jamie being entirely not subtle over dinner w their lingering glances and Carson just laughing at them fkjghdkfjgh i love it. he’s so happy for them even w his teasing aw

aaahhh i just love Jamie giving her this space and this room in the house and Dani feeling so right in it

oooh an almost “I love you” god they’re just fuckin u-haulin in love perfection huh

and now we’re back to horny hours love this for them. gotta bless that desk somehow huh!?

i love the mentions of all this soft stuff about belonging when they’re about to rail each other it really rounds it out emotionally

“Get on your knees.” OH MY GOD THE JAMIE ON HER KNEES REDEMPTION MOMENT IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING

HELL YEAH IT IS this is truly what we all deserve

oh my god literally ripping her clothes off her fuck i love how desperate they are for each other and just how into this they both are always

dfgkjdfh jesus Dani are u ever going to be able to get work done at this desk again after Jamie does.... all of this to u on it

“Good girl.” the single most powerful sentence in the lesbian language

jesus christ this is still so incredibly steamy sdflkhskhg it never ends. and them like.... experiementing a bit w some different um. approaches? lol good 4 them good 4 them (and us)

my god them instantly getting all soft after about making each other happy please they’re so dang cute

ok love that we are also getting Dani on her knees it’s equality.gif

this little “I like you” “I like you too” confession right now is... so fucking soft and like... after everything they’ve gone through they still have the power to kinda knock each other off their feet w lil things like this huh?? sappy lil shits

oh no Judy I am scared

holy shit Dani “Didn't think you'd love me anymore” owwww my heart

god Judy is such a good mama I love her so much. reassuring her she’s still a part of the family my god I am so emo. she loves her so much

aw I love this lil shared bathroom scene after so many awkward moments w Dani and Eddie in their bathroom and so many mentions of her fogged reflection. things are finally clear and it’s wonderful!!

lol Jamie well if u didn’t want Dani to get all horny u shouldn’t have worn suspenders!!!!! it’s simple math!

god Dani has changed so much this chapter which only takes place over a couple of weeks right?!?!? after so much anxiety and being so unsure of herself this is so fucking beautiful to see

stop the car thing oh my godddd. she doesn’t even care about having her own cause she’s so happy w the person she’s sharing with I’m so overwhelmingly happy

“You’re perfect.” please I will cry this chapter was so perfect (also so are the memes I cackled so much)

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.  

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”  

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

��

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

“Jamie Taylor?” 

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.  

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani���s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

[whumpkeys]

Blood Brothers (9-1-1 Lonestar Fic)

After an incident on a call leaves Carlos and Judd injured, TK has some guilt to look through. CW: Canon-typical violence, gun violence, drug mention.

It was a normal call. Or at least it was supposed to be. Dispatch had mentioned a simple car accident on the freeway with a possible missing kid. Nothing more, nothing less. They had found the kid and gotten four of the five people out of the cars with limited injuries and no deaths so far. The police were only really there for traffic control. Everything was going fine and overall, it was the kind of call that would no doubt be celebrated later with a night at the bar. Until Paul noticed something.

While Judd knew that he wasn’t as observant as Paul was, he was also far from oblivious. The sudden stiffening and look of concentration on Paul’s face betrays the fact that he had noticed something, though it wasn’t clear exactly what he’d noticed. It never was. Not until he did some fancy Sherlock Holmes type deduction and blew everyone away. Then it just seemed painfully obvious and left Judd with the thought that this is what Watson must feel like. A quick glance around reveals the fact that Judd isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Marjan and the probie were sharing a look of confusion and glee, clearly excited to see what it was that Paul had discovered.

Judd wasn’t immune to the lure of the trick either. Though he tries to remain outwardly uninterested, he still watches out of the corner of his eye as the other man approaches the truck, walking with purpose. Just as Paul’s about to make his first comment or ask his first question, something else catches Judd’s eye and he turns his head, recognizing the all-too-familiar glint as sunlight reflects off the long barrel of a shotgun. Judd follows it with his eyes, his heart stopping for a moment when he realizes who it was pointing at. TK wasn’t paying attention, of course, too busy chatting it up with his little cop boyfriend.

“Gun!” Judd’s shouting the warning almost immediately as he takes off towards the boy, knocking him to the ground just as the gun fires with a loud bang. The two of them land on the ground, Judd on top of TK, and he can only groan as TK shouts in surprise, asking what the hell was going on. Judd wants to answer. Really, he does. But just at that moment, the pain hits.

It’s a burning, searing pain that seems to spread out from his shoulder and throughout his entire body. He can hear somebody letting out a string of foul curses, ones that would get him smacked upside the head if Grace heard him saying, and it takes him a moment longer than it should for him to realize that it was him cussing up a storm and not some poor bystander. Judd tries to get up but his arms feel like Jell-O and refuse to follow his commands. All he can do is groan and hope he isn’t crushing poor TK under him.

As much as he liked to portray himself as this fearless, tough-guy cowboy, he was only human. He was susceptible to pain. And this shit? It hurt like a mother. Through the haze of pain and confusion, he can feel two people shifting him onto one of the stretchers. His arm moves at the same time that the pain spikes and a numb feeling shoots through his arm before making his entire body burn like it was on fire. He barely gets a strangled scream out before he's passing out on the stretcher.

~~~

Owen didn’t think he would ever be as scared as he had been when he found TK that night before moving to Austin. The stone-cold terror he’d felt when he’d found his son laying on the ground, cold as a corpse and not breathing, wasn’t something that was going to be easy to top. But the fear he feels when he sees the barrel of a gun pointed at him while he’s so clearly distracted definitely comes close.

“TK!” he yells, though it’s immediately drowned out by a louder shout, warning them about the gun. Owen freezes for just a moment, seeing a blur tackle TK to the ground just as the gun goes off. And that’s when everything goes to shit. Carlos is knocked aside in the commotion, his head hitting the edge of the truck and knocking him out, and TK himself doesn’t seem to come out unscathed despite what Owen is now considering divine intervention of some sort.

Owen forces himself forwards on unsteady legs, dropping to his knees beside the two. Michelle was already with Carlos, helping him to sit up and drink some water. For a moment, Owen’s convinced that he’s the only one who had seen this. The only one who knows what had happened. But his theory is quickly disproven when Paul and Marjan are there all of a sudden, helping him move Judd onto a stretcher. The cowboy was shouting out foul curses, causing most of the bystanders to cover their children's ears and look utterly scandalized. When he passes out, Owen finds that the silence is much worse.

TK hadn’t gotten up yet, which Owen was trying not to find concerning. He’s still laying on the pavement, curling up in the fetal position and not moving.“TK? TK, are you okay? TK!”

TK’s response is fairly quick and Owen just about sags in relief. “I’m fine. Just sore ribs. Think Judd broke ‘em. What was that all about anyway?” he asks, sitting up with one arm wrapped around his chest, a slight wince on his face.

Owen watches as the ambulance pulls away with Judd and Carlos inside and just shakes his head. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

“Dad? It’s not that bad, seriously. I’m fine.”

“TK, it’s not for you.”

It takes a few seconds but the look on TK’s face when he finally realizes what had just happened makes Owen wish that he’d just invented some kind of elaborate lie or something to cover up the whole thing. He knew it was illogical but the urge to protect his son from any more hurt was there, overpowering any logic or rational thought. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

~~~

They arrive at the hospital shortly after. Despite what he’d been told, about the trip not being for him, his dad had still made him get checked out. The whole way to the hospital, he’d been hunched over with his arms wrapped around his chest and Owen had been understandably concerned. A few moments after arriving, he's diagnosed with cracked ribs. After being told about caring for his ribs, they head into the waiting room to find Carlos sitting in the corner with an ice pack to his head and a pink emesis bin in his lap. He glances up when the two walk in, giving TK a small, pained smile. TK immediately glances away.

From what he’d been told, this whole thing was his fault. If he had been paying attention to the call instead of hanging out with his boyfriend when they were both working, then he would have seen the gun. He would have ducked or moved or done something other than just stand there like a lovesick dork. Judd wouldn’t be in surgery. Carlos wouldn’t be sitting there in obvious pain.

TK knew he had a bad habit of internalizing things and blaming himself. His dad told him practically every time it happened. But in this case, he was certain that it was his fault. How could it not be? He had been standing there, flirting with his boyfriend while everyone else was working hard. Judd had been right, he was slacking. And now he was paying the price for TK’s mistake.

Before he even has a chance to try and stop it, a strangled sob escapes him, and just like that, the dam he’d oh so carefully constructed breaks. He sits there, in the cold, cramped hospital chair, with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees as loud sobs wracked his body. The fabric on his knees is getting wet with his tears but he can’t bring himself to care. With everything else happening, it doesn’t seem to matter that much. He feels somebody’s arm wrap around him, pulling him into their side with a quiet, “Oh, TK.”

He recognizes his dad’s voice and the feeling of his chest. Briefly, he’s reminded of the time when he was a kid and he’d had a nightmare. He’d stood over his dad’s bed for nearly ten minutes before Owen had woken up. His dad had later told him that he’d scared the shit out of him. But after that, he’d just hugged him and held him close. He had rubbed his hair like he was doing now and he’d told him that everything was going to be okay. That whatever had happened was just a dream and it couldn’t hurt him. The mantra was different today. Today, his dad was assuring him that what happened wasn’t his fault. “Everything will be okay. It wasn’t your fault, TK, these things happen. Judd’s gonna be fine. Carlos is—”

“I’m fine,” Carlos pipes up, though his voice is tinged with hurt. TK can’t tell if it’s from the concussion or TK ignoring him. Either way, he had caused it. It was his fault.

“Tyler Kennedy, you listen to me.” TK hadn’t realized he had been speaking out loud. “This was not your fault. Okay?”

“But Carlos got— and Judd he—”

“They’re fine, TK. Right now, I’m more worried about you.” Owen lowers his voice, leaning in closer to his son. “How are you feeling? Any… urges?”

TK sighs, rolling his eyes and looking up at his dad. “I’m not a werewolf, you know, and I’m not made of glass either. I’m not gonna- I’m not going to OD again, okay? That was… it was a one-time thing. Not every issue is going to break me, okay? Okay, dad?”

“I know,” Owen tells him, a small smile on his face. “I know. I’m just worried, okay?”

“Yeah, well you don’t have to be.”

“It’s kind of my job, TK.”

TK feels a small spark of inexplicable anger appear. “No, your <i>job</i> is to save people.”

“Not as a firefighter, TK, as your dad.”

TK’s quiet for a moment. Just like that, the spark is gone and another sob leaves him. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Owen assures him, rubbing small circles into his son’s back. TK just nods, too busy trying to hold back the sobs and tears that threatened to overspill. By now, Paul, Marjan, and Matéo had returned from taking the truck back for the next shift and were just sitting awkwardly in the chairs beside Carlos.

When Paul catches the captain's eye, he mouths something that Owen takes for meaning, ‘Is he okay?’ Owen hesitates, looking down at where TK was sitting, practically in his lap with his head buried in his chest. He nods. TK might not be completely okay right now, but he would be. Owen knew that. If his son was anything, he was resilient.

Owen glances up at the sound of footsteps, relieved to see the doctor approaching. He knows the exact moment that TK notices, shifting and accidentally elbowing Owen in the chest. “Oomph!”

“Sorry,” TK’s quick to apologize but pays his dad no heed as he looks over at the doctor, a tall blond man. “How is he? Is he okay?”

The doctor opens his mouth to say something when Paul pipes up. “Relax, TK, he’s fine. Doc’s relaxed.”

“Wel—”

“Plus, Judd’s a fighter. He’ll be fine in no time.”

“May I—”

“Wait, did anyone call his wife?”

“If I can—”

“Yeah, I called her earlier. You know, she’s actually really nice. She invited us for dinner this weekend.”

“Guys,” Owen says, holding up a hand. “Let the man speak.”

The doctor sends him a thankful look and adjusts his clipboard as he clears his throat. “Thank you, Captain. Mr. Ryder’s going to be just fine. He’s lost a bit of blood but we were able to remove the bullet without much difficulty at all. He’s awake and ready for visitors. If you would like to see him, somebody can go in now. He’s been asking for his little brother?”

As soon as the doctor’s finished speaking, Owen looks down at his son. “That’s you. Go see him, make sure he’s not giving the nurses a hard time.” TK hesitates before shaking his head slightly and pulling his phone out as if he got a text. “I uh- actually, I have to go. Meeting a friend.”

Before anyone can protest, he’s out of there, taking off like a bat out of hell. Owen sighs, standing up. “Guess, that’s me then.” As he heads for Judd’s room, he hears Mateo comment on TK leaving to see a friend instead of visiting his brother. Marjan smacks him upside the head and calls him an idiot before Owen can say anything. He’d talk to TK later, make sure he’s okay.

Nobody, not even Paul, notices Carlos slipping away.

~~~

As soon as he’s out of the hospital, TK breaks down completely. He slides down one of the large white pillars and buries his face in his arms as he cries. Loud sobs wrack his entire body as he struggles to get a breath in without choking on it. He can practically feel everyone staring at him, watching as he loses it right there on the pavement. TK can only imagine the sight he makes. He was still in his turnout gear minus his helmet, which was probably still in the waiting room with his dad, and definitely looked the part of a badass firefighter. And here he was, sobbing like a child.

Too focused on dwelling on his own mistakes and trying to get a breath in, TK doesn’t notice somebody sitting down beside him until there’s a sharp inhale from the spot to his left. “It’s bright out, huh?” TK freezes, recognizing his boyfriend’s voice. He looks up slowly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand. They just keep coming.

“What are you doing here?”

“Come on, TK. I know you. And I know that you’re taking this hard. It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

TK shakes his head. “That’s not— I wasn’t doing my job. I was just standing around, talking to <i>you</i>. I was distracted.”

“Everyone was standing around, there wasn’t much to do. You did nothing wrong. Please tell me you understand that,” Carlos says, an arm around his shoulders as he pulls TK into an awkward, half hug. TK just laughs bitterly and shakes his head again. Carlos frowns and decides to try another tactic. “What, you’re not going to ask how I’m feeling?”

TK looks up at him, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just won a steak-eating contest.”

“Nauseous?”

“Yeah. Doc says I have a concussion. Nothing serious though.”

TK nods. “Good. Look… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“TK, you have nothing to apologize for,” he tells him with a smile, squeezing him against his chest. “What happened was an accident. I know it doesn’t help much but it’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” TK shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

Carlos frowns but decides not to say anything for now. “Come on, Tiger. Let’s go see Judd. I heard he’s giving the doctors a hard time.”

This time, TK doesn’t protest as he’s led back towards the hospital.

~~~

“Where’s the kid?”

Standing at the end of Judd’s hospital bed, Owen got the strange feeling that he was at his judgment day. Judd didn’t look like he’d even been shot. If it weren’t for the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and the stark white hospital sheets, he could have just been laying in bed. He wasn’t wearing a hospital gown either, something the captain found fairly odd but not important enough to mention.

“He… had to leave. Had a date with a friend,” Owen tells him. They both knew he was lying.

“He’s blaming himself, ain’t he?” Judd asks, groaning slightly as he props himself up on his elbows and looks over. Owen just nods. “Fuck, knew he would. He’s okay though, right?”

Owen nods again. “Yeah, he’s fine. A couple of cracked ribs but he’ll be fine. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m floating on cloud nine, Cap. Think they gave me the good stuff,” he responds with a shit-eating grin.

Owen laughs. “I don’t doubt it.”

There’s a moment of quiet as the mood slowly shifts and Judd looks up. “Any idea where he is?”

Owen shakes his head. They both knew who Judd was referring to. “I don’t know. He told me he wouldn’t be…” he trails off with a shake of his head. “But I don’t know.”

“Yeah, well, he’ll be fine. What happened out there?”

“Paul found cocaine. A ton of it. The guy didn’t want anyone finding out, I guess.”

“Whew-”

“What, no ‘welcome to Texas’?”

Judd shakes his head. “This ain’t Texas shit, Cap. That’s some LA shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Though the silence between the two had never been awkward before, it was now rife with tension. Owen wasn’t too sure what to say. He knew TK wouldn’t appreciate him telling Judd about their earlier talk but right now, he was considering telling Judd their entire life story just to have something to talk about. Thankfully, by some sort of miracle, he’s stopped from oversharing by the door opening and a light cough from the doorway.

Owen turns around immediately to see TK and Carlos standing there in the doorway. Carlos’s arm is wrapped around TK’s shoulders in a protective gesture and the police officer is giving them both a look that dares them to try anything. TK, for his part, was just standing there with his eyes on his shoes and his arms wrapped around his chest as if he could hold himself together just like that.

Nobody says anything for a few moments before Carlos nudges TK, prompting a slight glare at the other man and a quiet, “Hey.”

“Howdy, kid. Nice of you to drop by,” Judd responds, not missing a beat. Despite how withdrawn and hesitant TK was at the moment, Judd was acting as if they were just hanging around the fire station. And for that, Owen was grateful. TK hated any kind of pity or sympathy or anything like that. And while Judd wasn’t the type to pity people, Owen knew that his son would definitely interpret any difference in behavior as such.

TK doesn’t respond, leaving them with yet another awkward silence. It takes Owen a moment to see the look Judd was giving him, too busy watching his son with obvious worry. Judd clears his throat and Owen gets the sense that he was tired of waiting for him to catch on. “Hey, Cap, why don’t you and Reyes go call Grace or something?”

The dismissal was anything except subtle but it got the job done. Carlos seems to snap out of whatever protective trance he was in and nods. “Right… yeah. Uh- see you later, TK?” TK just nods, still not looking up from his shoes.

With one last lingering glance at his son, Owen follows Carlos out of the hospital room and back to the rest of the crew.

~~~

Judd doesn’t say anything as he watches the kid in the doorway. His posture and expression screams guilt and Judd knows that whatever he’s thinking about was eating at him. He shakes his head. “Am I gonna be receiving an invite to this pity party or is it one of them private affairs?”

TK glances up at that, a hint of a glare on his face as he looks towards Judd. It’s lacking any heat, though, and seemed more instinctual than anything. Judd sighs. “Come on, kid. What’s eating at you?”

There’s another brief moment of silence as TK seems to gather his words before speaking. “You got shot.”

Judd raises a brow. “Believe me, brother, I know.”

“No— you got shot because I wasn’t paying attention. I was flirting with Carlos. Flirting! At work. And you were— you—”

As he speaks, TK starts to pace back and forth across the room and Judd holds up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “First of all, you’re making me dizzy. Second, this kind of shit happens. It could have happened to anyone. Probie, Marwani, your dad. Hell, even me. You know how many times I’ve tried flirting with Grace over the radio?” TK shakes his head. “Too many times.”

Judd pauses for a moment, just to get a sense of where they were, and then launches into the seemingly endless story of how he’d flirted with Grace over the radio, got himself smacked upside the head by his captain, and sent to the couch for the night by Grace, and almost drowned as a direct result from the incident. Partway through the story, TK migrates over to the hard plastic chair beside Judd’s bed and by the time he reaches the part about the couch, TK’s fast asleep with his head on the bed. Judd doesn’t stop talking just yet, continuing the story as TK lays there, his head laying on his folded arms.

He doesn’t reach the drowning part before he’s dozing off beside the kid, confident that they’d be alright.

[inyuji]

Don’t know how much more ducks I wanna draw. For now, I wanted to get this out of the way. This is dubbed the “Stranger Things” AU, where Miyu Moreno met Drake as young teens, but under bad circumstances. Basically Drake and his classmate Elmo Sputterspark befriend Miyu and dub themselves the “Weirdo Club.” And they just enjoy an entire autumn doing fun shenanigans while trying to find leads to Miyu’s possible relatives. WARNING: LONG story description. Read at your own peril

Miyu’s adoptive mother, Lucia Moreno, did not survive the risky operation to cure her illness. This left Miyu an orphan, and unable to look after herself. What’s worse was being secretly watched by strange people who claimed “child services.” The spirits and yokai warned her of the shady government agents. Out of desperation and fear, Miyu snuck out of Japan to America when she was thirteen, hoping to find any relatives who could take her in. Unfortunately she was still being tracked by the shady agents, so she ran and hid as far as she could. She stayed hidden, barely surviving in a rumored “haunted house,” in the homely town of St. Canard.

Young teen Drake Mallard would brave his way into the haunted house to retrieve his classmate’s bag, which was maliciously disposed by some schoolyard bullies. That’s how he stumbles into a half-starved Miyu, and a bunch local ghosts and a few yokai. Drake barely understood Miyu’s plight, but decided to visit her and help. While trying to teach Miyu with English, Drake discovered some untranslated and translated manga at his local bookstore, and used these as a teaching aid for Miyu and himself. Drake has been introduced to Anime much earlier and now has even more things to nerd over. Our boi is dorkier than ever and I don’t regret a thing.

Over a month, his classmate noticed something was up with Drake. They are not friends, but they are friendly to each other. Drake decided to trust Elmo on his secret, and soon Elmo became part of the “weirdo” club. Miyu would mostly stay hidden, but she occasionally pops out in public when she’s dragged to movies or possible school events. They did share a very awesome Halloween. Drake and Elmo would research possible leads to Lucia Moreno’s relatives or any past work acquaintances. Miyu would try to dreg up clues or help from the local spirits also. At some point, Drake’s mother found out about Miyu when she came home early from shopping and caught Drake trying to smuggle in Miyu to his house. After getting an explanation, she decided to let Miyu stay, though she really wants to alert authorities about the “runaway child.” She does see how Miyu is deadly scared of any “bad men” finding out, since a few had posed as government workers.

The shady agents from Japan have tracked Miyu down, and it’s revealed that they are Onmyoji hunting down Miyu for her magic. Drake and Miyu hastily embark on a road trip to flee from the Onmyojis and seek out the past Darkwing actors. With Elmo occasionally guiding them via radio and Miyu’s helpful spirits, they are able to visit the main Darkwing villain actors and ask about Lucia. While they have good things to say about her brief time on the show, they do not know much about Lucia’s family or if she even had family here. During their biking trip, they befriend a stray Grim, who has kept stealthy vigil over Drake and Miyu. When they finally meet Jim Starling, they are given even more disappointing news. Jim was really shocked that Lucia had adopted a kid during her time recovering and feels guilty about Miyu being an orphan. Jim lies about not knowing Lucia much, not wanting to reveal that his dangerous stunts were the cause of Lucia being injured during set, resulting in her damaging her voice and falling ill. Rather than risk the show being cancelled, Jim had suggested to the writers and producers to drop Lucia from the show. Drake is a bit hesitant to believe that this acting hero is lying, when all the other actors remember Lucia. Miyu has practically given up when their final lead knows nothing.

The Darkwing actors had actually met up shortly at Jim’s signing to ask if he had met Drake and Miyu. They are concerned that two kids are trekking a long way, and hope to rectify their poor judgment of letting the kids go on their merry way. They are disappointed that Jim had practically lied to a bunch of kids, knowing that he too knew Lucia during the short time on set. At that moment, the 2 Onmyojis start interrogating the crew, claiming they are investigators looking for 2 runaway children. One of them however, is pissed and hates dealing with the “normies.” The actors deny knowing where the kids went, and Jim lies though his teeth that the kids probably hit the bus to the next town. When the Onmyojis leave, everyone is officially freaking out. All of the actors are calling the cops and contacting old colleagues who had worked on the Darkwing production. Jim is too freaked out to do anything and doesn’t want to get involved.

When the Onmyojis finally catch up to Miyu and Drake, Drake was almost killed. Witnessing this caused Miyu to awaken her Kitsune blood. Miyu’s real mother was a kitsune, which has given her a sixth sense for the supernatural and magic. Jim Starling had stumbled on this fight while on his way home, and attempted to help. He was easily subdued and injured in the process. After Miyu maliciously subdued all yokai shikigamis (onmyoji summons) and the 2 Onmyojis, the police and paramedics were able to come in time. Drake is diagnosed to be in coma, with low chances of waking up, and this breaks Miyu. Jim feels terrible that he was practically useless and that he was the reason that Lucia was ill and had to seek treatment, which ultimately killed her. Drake’s mother is wracked with grief, but she doesn’t blame Miyu, seeing how much Miyu blames herself. During the fight with the Onmyojis, they reveal that they had sabotaged the operation that would supposedly cure Lucia’s illness. They wanted Miyu easily vulnerable to induct her into their ranks as an Onmyoji in their organization. Miyu blames her existence and her magic for hurting people around her. Out of desperation, Miyu consulted whatever yokai friends for a solution, and prays for Inari, the Kami closely related to Kitsune and possibly the Kami her kitsune mother had served. Inari appears as a spectral apparition and warns Miyu that she will weaken in magic, even with Inari’s help. Miyu doesn’t care for magic anymore. Drake finds himself in a spectral limbo and told about the plight happening in the living realm. Drake doesn’t want Miyu to sacrifice her magic for him, and stubbornly makes his way towards a gateway back to the living, but with great difficulty.

Drake still has to stay hospitalized, but he only needs to heal from a broken arm, and surprisingly, his skull has recovered nicely. Miyu’s magic has been sapped near dry, so all proficiency she had gained is back to level 0. However, Miyu would still have to be processed into Foster Care. There is no guarantee that Miyu will find a stable place to keep in contact with Drake through long-distance letters. Jim had talked a bit with Miyu, asking about her life with Lucia. Wanting to appease his guilt and truly being sorry for Miyu, he manages to take in Miyu as his foster child. He wants to give Miyu a stable home so she can keep consistent correspondence with Drake and Elmo.

Miyu and Jim are able to visit St. Canard every month, especially during school vacation breaks. This gives the kiddies a chance to continue on their Dungeons & Dragons campaign. Jim has started to get the hang of being their Dungeon Master. Now that Jim is a foster father, slowly becoming an adoptive father, he bites down his pride and takes any small gigs to pay bills. But this has been good for him. He’s slowly gaining momentum as an actor, though nothing too noteworthy. Miyu is quite proud of Jim doing his best, and always makes it a routine to pack a bento for him. She finds every chance to personally bring it to him. Over time, Miyu has regained her proficiency in magic in her late teenage years. Jim has been getting good support and contact with his old DW crew, and some parenting advice from Mss. Mallard. Drake has been taking good care of the Grim, who is now lovingly named “Kage.” When Miyu is in her teenage years, Jim is actually nailing a lot more Duckflix gigs who have taken some note of Jim’s improving repertoire. It also helps that he’s become less of a jerk.

[sgt-morgan]

Like Pulling Teeth

I thought of this while watching a TikTok and I couldn’t help myself.

Contacting Bucky while he was on a mission, was as close to impossible as humanly conceivable, but Bucky married you because you are a miracle worker. As far as the former soldier was concerned, you fell out of heaven and gave him all of the greatest things in life. Including, an adorable baby girl, Evangeline Rebecca Barnes. Bucky adored his girls, he loved nothing more than to return home to them and feel like he had done his best to keep you safe. However, the number one thing he couldn’t stand, was those moments he missed. Recitals, birthdays, first steps, nothing was off limits. But sometimes, a girl just needs her daddy.

You knew Bucky, Steve, Natasha, and Sam were in the middle of Eastern Europe, you knew their mission was long, and you knew he was supposed to be off the grid. However, when your baby girl came into your room mouth bleeding, tooth hanging by a thread, her little blue eyes just like her daddy’s welling up with tears? You knew that protocol would have to take a back seat.

“Baby, what happened! can I see?” You said carefully approaching your baby, hands outstretched as if reaching for a wounded animal. The roar that ripped out of her was fierce and rough, that growling, sobbing scream that only little kids can manage.

“NO! No mommy,” she sobbed, chest heaving, tears welling, “No mommy, daddy help, no touch it mommy.” She cried.

“Sorry Y/N! We were jumping on the trampoline and she smacked into my knee when we fell over!” Morgan Stark said, her eyes also a little misty, the poor baby wracked with guilt.

“No Morgan, it’s not your fault, I know it was an accident.” You reassured to young Stark. “Can you get your daddy for me? Tell him I need to borrow his phone.” She nodded and ran off and you faced your baby again.

“Ok, Eva love, let’s get that mouth of yours cleaned up, I promise I won’t pull it, but let’s at least stop dripping blood on the floor.” You carefully picked up your daughter and pushed her sweaty, wild curls off her forehead and gently kissing her tear stained cheeks. You wandered into your bathroom and set your daughter on the sink. You reached into the cabinet and pulled out a washcloth, wetting it with warm water and swiped the blood gently from her mouth. She kept crying and squirming, but was placated when you finally gave up and just let her hold the washcloth to her mouth.

“Where is baby Barnes, give her here, let me squeeze it.” Tony came into the room with a flourish. You smile weekly at Tony and gesture towards the bathroom where your daughter could be seen still sniffling and holding the now stained washcloth to her mouth.

“She wants her daddy,” you start to explain whispering softly to Tony so you can avoid setting off the crying child in your bathroom. “She won’t let me pull it without talking to him.”

“Oof tough breaks lady Barnes, you could give my phone a shot.” He hands you his phone, starting towards your bathroom, Morgan following closely behind him holding some popsicles. “Oh Evie! I have your advance from the tooth fairy! She got you a bomb pop!”

You are so grateful for Tony. You knew that He and your husband had a long and sordid past, but having little girls seemed to mellow them, and they had decided to let bygones be bygones. You could now with confidence say that Tony was one of your husbands best friends.

You knew to use Tony’s phone when calling your husband, because he knew that Tony only called him while on a mission if there was an emergency. He had learned long ago not to take your calls when on a mission, because you often forgot he was gone and would call him at random. This lesson was taken to heart when you called him during a shoot out to tell him about an adorable puppy you saw while buying groceries.

He picked up after the second ring. “Stark, this better be good. I just left a meeting with our target.” You flinched, but it had to be done.

“Hi baby.” You said meekly.

“Y/N! What’s wrong, is Eva ok?” You smile a little, his imediate switch in tone reminding you just how soft he was only for you and your daughter.

“Well, we had a little accident on the trampoline, and she won’t let me pull her tooth that’s hanging by a thread without you.” You sigh, slightly frustrated with the whole thing.

“Baby, I can-“ he tried but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“James Bucanon Barnes, I need you to be a dad for five seconds. Shut up and turn on your face time.” You snap, immediately the phone starts to vibrate indicating that he had switched to FaceTime.

“Sorry baby, you’re right,” He sighs running his fingers through his hair, “Take me to the kid.” You walk into the bathroom and brandish the phone at your daughter, showing her that her dad is on the screen.

“Daddy, my toof,” she gives a little half sob, her little blue eyes welling up again. Tony and Morgan take the popsicles and go to wait for you in the living room, leaving you and your little family to sort the tooth problem. “I hurted it.”

“Oh baby doll, I’m sorry,” he says pouting a little and pulling the phone a little closer to his face, presumably to get a better look at the mostly detached tooth. “You know, if you pulled it out it wouldn’t hurt anymore! Then you could put it under your pillow, and the tooth fairy would come and leave you a dollar!”

“Really?” Your heart smooshed when you saw her sweet little eyes glued to Tony’s phone. All of the faith and love in the world shone in your little girls eyes. She was gonna be ok, daddy has her. “Can you help me daddy?”

You could see Bucky’s eyes melt at her request, he couldn’t believe something so perfect could ever trust him so unconditionally. “Of course honey, lets do it.”

She sniffled and handed you the phone so she could have her hands free. “Okay daddy, I ready.” She sniffled putting her brave face on.

“Okay honey, all we gotta do is twist and pull, can you grab it?” She reached up and grabbed hold of her little tooth watching for her fathers reassurance. “Alright baby, good job. Now, you gotta really be brave for me ok? On the count of three we’re gonna pull, ready?” Your little girl started whimpering nervously but she nodded at her dad bravely. “Alright, 1... 2... 3!” She twisted and gave a sharp yank and suddenly she was holding her tooth in her hand.

“Daddy look! I did it!” She beamed showing off the new gap in her front teeth.

“Look at that baby! You did it! My brave girl, I’m so proud of you!” You covered your mouth with your free hand, smiling at your little girl. Bucky sounded so proud. “Let’s show your Uncle Stevie and Aunty Nat! They’re gonna be so proud of you!” You handed the phone back to your daughter and let her continue to talk to her dad. You couldn’t believe how lucky you are, you have the perfect little family.

“Okay daddy, Uncle Tony brought me a popsicle. I gonna eat now.” She said handing you the phone.

“Alright sweet cheeks, love you big!” She repeated the sentiment, and you turned the phone to talk to your husband.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it, sorry to bother you.” You sigh scrubbing your hand down your face.

“No problem baby, I’m glad you called. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in person.” He sighs, carding his fingers through his hair.

“That’s okay baby, I understand,” you reassure him, “Go save the world, come home, and then we can worry about loose teeth again.”

[asecretsummer-rpg]

Name: Alistair Harding Age: 37 Sexuality: Heterosexual Gender: Male Portrayed By: Jesse Metcalfe Availability: Closed

“We’re doing everything we can. Please just let us do our job.”

→ Background

Alistair grew up in Manchester, raised by his fireman father, who was pretty much his hero. He was a single dad and he raised two boys on his own while working a very demanding, high pressure job. Alistair looked up to his dad and wanted to be just like him when he grew up. He was a smart kid, much like his brother Jamie was, and the two of them did very well in school. They were also close. The Harding’s were a tight knit family unit and Alistair wouldn’t have had it any other way, though he did sometimes wish his mother could be there with them. She died when he was three and he barely remembers her, which is sad, but he knows that’s just the way life is sometimes and there’s not much you can do to change your fate. You just have to make the most of the hand you’re dealt.

When Alistair was eighteen, he decided that instead of firefighting, he wanted to get into the police force. His brother Jamie went on to be a fireman like their dad but Alistair broke the mould and went his own way, coming pretty much top of his classes and becoming the deputy chief of the local department pretty young, the youngest they’d ever had in fact. But he deserved it, he’d worked his way through the force all these years and now he was where he needed to be. His father was very proud of him, though the jokes around their house about the police and firemen were rife, it was all in good fun. The Harding’s loved a good banter.

It was on the force that he met Lauren, his first real love. She was dating Darren Walker at the time but she was into Alistair too, he could tell, and the two of them began to have an on-again off-again affair behind Darren’s back. It wasn’t something either of them would normally do but they had a connection that they just couldn’t deny and couldn’t ignore. A few months after Darren had broken things off with Lauren, Alistair bit the bullet and proposed to her. She said no, probably scared but Alistair didn’t know what the problem was, they were good together and they started to fight quite often, the stress of her rejection weighing heavy on them. That was the beginning of the end and Lauren was eventually transferred to Baberton to help with their serial killer problem and the two never really spoke again.

→ Back to Baberton

Baberton. A little town north of London with a big problem. Too many people have died in that town and too many people continue to lose their lives. Some of the Manchester team have been transferred to help the local police force, even some people from London have been sent over, and still nobody can seem to do anything to stop the horror this town has been living in. There’s barely any evidence to go on, whoever is doing this is very smart and leaves behind nothing. They play games and keep the force on their toes. Alistair never planned to come here, it was too close to Lauren and Darren and he just didn’t think he could deal with being so close to her every day. But he’s a police officer and a damn good one at that and he decided that it was his duty to move here temporarily and help this poor town recover. He’s determined to collar the killer, bring them to justice, make Baberton safe again… and maybe even finally get the girl while he’s at it.

→ What’s His Secret?

Still has the ring that he used to propose to Lauren, he carries it with him every day in his pocket and uses it as a reminder that he should just wait it out. They’re good together, made for each other he believes, and he’s certain that one day Lauren will see that and they can finally get married and have the life they deserve. He just needs to be patient and luckily he’s a very patient man.

Even though he recently came to town, he is keeping his eye on Brooke Ford, Lauren’s wife. He doesn’t trust her and has started building a profile of her. Especially because he doesn’t want her to get hurt. Maybe he is just building a case to hand it over to Lauren and make her see she made the wrong choice by marrying Brooke and she should be with him instead because they belong together.

Had a younger sister who died when he was twenty-five. The family never speak of her now as it was too tragic, and he never told anybody he worked with about her other than his boss. It was just too horrible for him to relive and think about, especially since he’d wracked with so much guilt. She was being stalked by some creep from her work but nobody could do anything since he hadn’t specifically threatened her and one night he broke into her apartment and strangled her to death. Alistair blames himself and always tells himself that he should have done more to help her. He’s a cop, for Christ sake! He had the resources and he just let her be murdered. He’ll never forgive himself for that and he uses it as a catalyst to push him to work harder and save everybody.

[helaintoloki]

Laughing on the Outside

pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

warnings: language, angst, mentions of alcohol, more angst

notes: I’m aware I have a lot of requests to do but I really wanted to write this and had a lot of fun doing it. also may or may not have given myself a shoutout somewhere in here haha but anyway enjoy!

based on this song

“I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”

“W-What?” You breathe, chest still heaving with anger but heart slowly dropping to your stomach at Poe’s words. You’d just been going through the worst fight of your life, things were said and objects were thrown, but you didn’t think it would come to this. No, you assumed it would end like it always did: with hot and heavy angry sex followed by gentle touches and whispered apologies. But across the room from you Poe stood tired and defeated, disappointed and dreading what he had to do.

“A war is no place for love. It’s destroying us, and we’re destroying each other,” Poe stresses. His eyes are full of sorrow, but he seems to ignore the way your demeanor begins to crumble. “I love you kiddo, but this isn’t healthy.”

“Since when do you ever care about your own well being?” You mutter as you try to pick another fight. You don’t want to fight, but you’re desperate to do anything in order to make him stay. You can’t be alone. You were alone for so long, but he changed that. He chased away the monsters like a knight in shining armor and kept you safe, kept you happy and warm and loved. But now he was leaving, and you’d have to fight those same monsters off on your own now.

“Please don’t start,” he begs, tone gentle but firm.

“How do you expect me to just be okay with you leaving?!” You shout, tears you hadn’t realized you were crying streaming steadily down your face. “After everything we’ve been through?!”

“You’re a soldier,” Poe says, “you’re strong.”

“Well fine! Go on then!” You yell, shoving him away from you. You see red, you’re hurt, you feel betrayed, and for the first time ever you hate Poe Dameron. “I don’t need you! Get out!”

“y/n...”

You grab the object closest to you (a porcelain droid model trinket Poe had swiped for you in the market place of a planet you couldn’t remember the name of) and flung it towards him, shoulders heaving as you watched it smash to pieces against the wall.

“Get out!” You scream. Poe says nothing, gives a single solemn nod, then walks out of your door and out of your heart.

It’s then that you allow yourself to sink to the ground and weep into your hands. Your throat feels constricted like you can’t breathe, your chest is aching with every sob that wracks your body, and your heart has stopped beating now that it has no one to love.

Poe Dameron is gone, and now it is up to you to pick up the pieces.

~~~

“What about... that one?”

“Easy. Y/N,” Poe replies with a small shrug.

“Why y/n?” You retort with a raised eyebrow, gaze still casted towards the stars in the sky. You don’t notice Poe shift beside you in the grass, resting on his side so that he may face you instead. You can’t see it, but his eyes are full of love and adoration as he studies your features.

“Because it’s the most beautiful star of them all.”

“Hey, I heard about you and the Commander,” Connix says, snapping you out of your daze and interrupting your lunch. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You scoff lightheartedly. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, it’s just...” Connix fumbles, your nonchalantness and relaxed manner catching her off guard, “you two were together for so long I figured...”

“It was gonna happen eventually. A war is no place for love,” you repeat Poe’s exact words, but there’s a lightness to them, an airiness, laughter. Your smile is so bright Connix wonders if you ever even loved Poe at all. You couldn’t have if you were doing so well after such a fresh wound. “I’m okay lieutenant. Don’t worry about me.”

What she didn’t know was how much you were crying on the inside, how much your whole body ached with hurt and longing, how much you missed that damned pilot.

“Okay,” she said with a nod and left you to finish your lonely lunch.

~~~

“Have you seen y/n?”

“Not recently. The last I saw her she was at the bar. Why?”

“I’m worried about her,” Poe admits as he runs a hand through his curls.

“She seems fine,” Snap says with a shrug. “She was dancing, laughing, even shared a drink with me.”

“She’s a soldier,” Poe sighs tiredly, finally spotting the woman struggling to stand on her own two feet as Jess tries to gently coax her away from the party. “She’s putting on a strong front.”

You don’t remember much. You remember there being a party, you remember putting on your best dress (Poe’s favorite dress), and you remember Poe. He was dressed in his best shirt, a light smile on his face and a drink in his hand as he conversed with one of the newer recruits. What was her name again? El? Mel? You don’t remember and you don’t care anyways. She was cute and young and so bubbly it was sickening. You had watched the way his hand had came to rest on her back, the way he would gaze down at her with the softest smile as she spoke animatedly to her friends. That used to be you. That should be you.

And now here you are, drunk off your ass and wrestling with Pava over the liquor bottle. She’s exhausted and quite annoyed with your laughter. Who do you think you’re fooling?

“I got it from here Jess,” a voice cuts in, bottle swiped from both of your grasps and handed back to the bar tender.

“Call me if you need any help,” the pilot sighs. She gives you one last look of concern before leaving the two of you be.

“C’mon, kid,” Poe sighs. He reaches for your hand and you jerk away.

“I don’t want to go,” you protest with a childish pout, “I’m having- hiccup - I’m having fun!”

“You’re drunk. You need to get to bed,” Poe chastises. “Come on, Princess.”

“I-I’m not your princess!” You scowl, causing a few heads to turn your way. Poe lets out a frustrated sigh and chooses to simply ignore your protests as he drags you outside. “Let me go!”

“You need some air,” Poe huffs in response, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when the two of you finally escaped into the cool night. The stars were beautiful, shimmering over the two of you in such an enchanting way it almost made you want to throw up.

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” you scoff and yank your arm away from his grasp. “I’m not your burden anymore.”

“Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I still don’t care about you. You’re a Resistance member, and I care about the Resistance. I care about you.”

“Bantha fodder!” You shout angrily, tears already beginning to well up in your eyes. “You don’t leave the people you care about behind!”

“Y/n, please,” Poe begs. “You have to move on. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“But you can be with the new recruit,” you spit back, satisfaction filling your bones at the guilt that flashes across Poe’s face. “Yeah. I saw. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

“I never said you were stupid,” Poe murmurs.

“I thought you loved me,” you laugh softly to yourself, “I thought you cared. What a riot.”

“Y/n...”

“But you know what’s funny? You know what really makes me laugh?” You ask breathlessly. “Ever since we’ve broken up my pathetic heart seems to love you more. It hopes and it prays you’ll come back, even if my brain knows you won’t. How pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,” is Poe’s meager response, flinching at your melodic laughter that echoes throughout the base. You giggle like you’ve just told the funniest joke in the world, left hand clutching your side at the pain while the other clutches your heart. You’re dying.

Poe’s solemn facade changes in an instant as your bubbly laughter progresses into choked, ugly sobs, and before you can protest he has you tightly in his arms as you cry into his chest. He says nothing, only cradles the back of your head and clutches you painfully close to him. You can feel the warmth, feel the sensation of his heart pounding in his chest, can smell his cologne. It is like heaven, and your poor heart can’t take much more of it.

“How did we end up like this?” You weep, tears and makeup and fists clutching at his shirt staining and wrinkling the fabric.

“I don’t know kid,” Poe murmurs into your hair. “But I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n.”

He holds you underneath the watchful stars, and for a moment you can pretend he is yours. You can pretend you never lost him, never kicked him out of your room that night, and never smashed the trinket.

You pretend he still loves you, and though you can’t see it, Poe shows you that he still does.