#also another reason is just that lance always wanted kids and he is Pressed when balan is created fully capable

[nightsandreala]

i think lance defines his and balan’s relationship as a parent and child sort of thing, he feels out of control in his life and thinks that trying to create a relationship like this will give him some sort of authority over balan (and therefore what happens with the theatre/the guests)

(although he never refers to balan as his child or anything, he doesn’t want balan knowing he created him, and why he created him because he thinks it’ll keep balan from doing his job and make him fall to negativity earlier than he should. lance doesn’t enjoy being lance but he doesn’t want to like. die either)

balan eventually comes to see the two of them more as siblings (or just kind of neutral. like they mostly get along but lance is Just Some Guy to him), he does appreciate lance trying to guide him for a while but doesn’t agree with the way lance wants things to be done

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭

A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood 1997

An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.

Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.

“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”

Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.

A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.

He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.

“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.

“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”

“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.

“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”

Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.

“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”

The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.

“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.

The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.

 Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.

Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.

A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.

Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.

July 1998

The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.

Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.

Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.

At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.

A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.

“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”

Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.

“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.

“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.

“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”

Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.

 “These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”

“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”

“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”

“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.

“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.

You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.

“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.

Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.

“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.

Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.

“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.

Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”

“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”

“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.

Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.

On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.

“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.

Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.

“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.

“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.

As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.

“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”

 “I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.

If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.

“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.

“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.

“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”

Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.

“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.

“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.

Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.

Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.

“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”

A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.

“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“

“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”

Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”

“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.

No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.

Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.

“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.

“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.

Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.

“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”

The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.

“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”

“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”

“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.

Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.

“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.

As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.

 “Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.

In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.

“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.

Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.

“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.

Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.

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[hopelikethemoon]

The Addition (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: The Addition  Rating: PG-13 Length: 3000 Warnings: None. Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in March 1997. This is the pupper. This is just a everything-and-the-kitchen-sink chapter.  Summary: Reader finally gets what she wants. 

Taglist:  @grapemama​  @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex​​ @ham4arrow​​@hiscyarika​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​​ @randomness501​​@fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut​​ @just-add-butter​​ @snivellusim​​@amarvelousmandalorian​​ @lukesrighthand​​ @historynerd04​​@mrsparknuts​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​@exrebelshocktrooper​​@awesomefandomsunited​​ @ah-callie​​ @swhiskeys​​ @lady-tano​​ @beskar-droids​​ @space-floozy @cable-kenobi​​ @longitud-de-onda​​ @cool-ultra-nerd​​ @himbopoes​​@findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​​

“You’re lucky I’m homebound,” You remarked as you settled into the chair beside Javier in the little doggie playroom. “I’d be here every day trying to adopt another one.” 

“We haven’t adopted this one yet.” 

“She’s perfect.” You looped your arm through his, leaning towards him to rest your cheek on his shoulder. “I hope she loves us.” 

“A little younger than we intended to get.” He pointed out, looking down at the little information card the man had given him to review while they got the dog ready to visit with them. “Two is still a puppy.” 

“Two is a full-grown dog.” You took the card from him and looked it over. “She’s supposed to be great with kids and calm.” 

“Two is still going to require exercise.” Javier gave you a look, a brow quirking upwards. 

“I can sit outside and drink my tea and let her run around the yard.” You waved your hand dismissively, “That’s the reason we have Josie. She can help her burn energy.”

“Is that why we have Josie?”

You nodded. “It was all a scheme to get a dog. Lance shot down the idea of getting one in Colombia so I went through a multi-year plan to have a baby with you, move to Florida, all so I could get a dog.” 

Javier snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, rubbing his hand over your shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” You knew he was worried, but he was slowly driving you crazy with asking you how you felt every thirty minutes. Pass out once and end up in the hospital… 

The door opened and the young man who had been helping the two of you entered with the beautiful dog at the end of a red leash. “We’ve been calling her Sasha, but she doesn’t really respond to it.” He explained to you.

The dog was a little skittish at first, keeping close to — you think his name was Owen — as she sniffed at the floor. 

“She’s beautiful.” You smiled, leaning forward and holding out your hand. “Any idea what she is?”

“Most likely a mutt.” He explained. “She was an owner surrender. They got reassigned out of the country.”

“Poor thing.” You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Javier was watching you, his eyes flickering between you and the dog. “Looks like a mountain dog.”

“With some poodle, most likely.” Owen offered. “She won’t get much bigger. The vet’s checked her out and she’s done growing.”

“Good.” Javier, ran his hands over his legs before he shifted forward and held out his hand, much the same way you were.

The dog tugged at the lead, seeming far more keen now that both of you were interested in her. 

“Is she house trained?” Javier questioned. 

“And doesn’t pull when she goes on a walk.” Owen let go of the leash, letting her sniff her way closer to the pair of you. 

“Come here, girl.” You cooed, your smile broadening as she bounded towards you. She shoved her cool nose against your palm, licking at you curiously. 

Javier reached out and petted her back. “You’re a soft girl, aren't you?”

She wagged her tail, flopping onto her side and showing her belly to both of you.

“I think she likes you.” You teased, nudging Javier in the ribs. You looked up at Owen, grinning. “I think she’s the one.”

“Easy there,” Javier told you. “Isn’t there more we should do?”

Owen shook his head. “If you feel comfortable with her, we can start the outtake paperwork.”

You looked at Javier, pursing your lips. “Please? I mean, I’m coming back and getting her Monday even if you say ‘no’.”

“I am not going to say ‘no’.” He huffed, rolling his eyes with a shake of his head. “Like I’m about to deny a pregnant woman what she wants.” He muttered under his breath. 

“I’ll stay with her, if you want to start on the papers.” You told Javier with a grin. 

“Alicia will help you at the front desk.” Owen told Javier. 

The dog jumped up when Javier stopped petting her, propping herself up to rest her paws on his knees. 

“I’m screwed.” Javier laughed. “There’s three of you pulling this look now.”

You chuckled heartily. “Pretty soon you’ll be outnumbered four-to-one.”

“I was outnumbered when it was just you.” He kissed your cheek before he scooted the dog off his legs and got up. “Thanks.” Javier patted Owen on the shoulder as he walked past and headed out to the front desk.

“You’ve got yourself a new home, pretty girl.” You told the dog, scratching behind her ear. She was the absolute doppiest dog, lolling her head to the side with her tongue hanging out. 

“Any ideas on names?” Owen questioned you.

You glanced up, “Stevie.”

“Like Nicks?”

“Yeah, actually.” You laughed, looking back at the dog. “Are you a Stevie?”

She barked softly. 

“None of that.” You scrunched up your nose, rubbing at her head. “Javi will kill us both if you’re a barker.”

“Only when she gets excited.”

“We have an almost four-year-old who is much the same.” You laughed softly, patting your knees. 

Stevie jumped up and put her paws on your legs, leaning up to lick at your face. “You’re just so loving, aren't you?”

“When are you due?” Owen questioned. 

“Mid-to-late May.” You answered, glancing up at him. “I know it’s crazy to get a dog right before having a baby, but… I’m desperate.” 

“Is he not around a lot?” He nodded his head towards the door. 

“He’s around all the time,” You shrugged. “I just want a dog.” You scratched behind both of Stevie’s ears. “You’re going to be spoiled rotten.” 

“Ah, I see.” Owen leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “I was going to suggest I could help you train her, if you were lonely.”

Your eyes snapped up. “Are you trying to come onto me?” Your head tilted back and you laughed — loudly. “Kid, he and I could find a dozen and a half ways to kill you with the dog toys in this room alone. I’m flattered, but no.” 

Color flooded his face. “I wasn’t… I’m sorry.” 

The door popped open and Javier emerged, “Well, baby. You’re the proud owner of a dog.” 

“Did you hear that, Stevie? You’re going home with us!” The dog barked again excitedly, her tail thumping against the floor. 

 —————

 Stevie alternated between being stretched out on the backseat of the Jeep and bouncing back and forth to look out the windows.

“Didn’t he say she was calm?”

“She’s been cooped up in a kennel for who knows how long, Javi. Let her be excited.” You rolled your eyes at him, laughing quietly. “He also tried to hit on me while you were gone.”

“Excuse me?” Javier cocked his head to the side as he stopped at a light. “He did what?”

“I’m impressed that this,” You gestured to your stomach. “isn’t an instant detractor.” 

“I keep telling you, you look good.” He reached over and gave your knee a squeeze, fingers playing little patterns there. Some things never changed. “What’d you say?”

You caught his hand, bringing it to your stomach to stop the patterns he was drawing on your leg. “I told him I could kill him a dozen different ways.” 

“Baby!” Javier laughed, pushing his sunglasses up his brow. “You can’t just threaten to kill people.” 

“Has it ever stopped me before?” You questioned, sliding his hand to the spot where the baby was kicking. “I also said you’d kill him. I find murder tends to distract from attempts to hit on someone.” 

Javier rubbed his thumb over your stomach. “Someone’s excited.” You quipped, keeping his hand there as he started through the intersection. “You know, baby.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I always thought your threats of violence were a turn on.” 

“Really?” You rolled your eyes. “That makes perfect sense with you, Javier.” You glanced over your shoulder to the backseat, pleased to see that Stevie had settled down. “I mean, we have established I’m a sadist.” 

“The truth comes out.” He reluctantly pulled his hand away so he could turn the corner. Once it was safe, he reached back over, letting you guide his hand back to the right spot. She had quieted a little, but that didn’t dissuade him from keeping his hand there. Just in case. 

“Thank you for agreeing to Stevie.” 

“You did get Josie in on the plan.” He quipped with a chuckle. “It’s all good, baby. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve a dog.” He gave her leg a squeeze, before gripping at the steering wheel. 

 ———

 “Like Uncle Steve?” Josie questioned as she laid on the floor, on her back, beside Stevie. You were pleased with how quickly the two had bonded with each other. One hour at home and Stevie was sprawled out on the floor beside her human-sibling. 

“Yep.” Javier confirmed with a nod as he cracked open a bottle of beer, taking a swig before he moved to join you on the sofa. “Just like Uncle Steve.”

“Technically, Stevie Nicks…” You corrected. “But mostly to torture Steve.” 

Monica laughed as she looked up from the book she was reading. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who named their dog to spite their best friend.” She looked at Javier pointedly.

“I don’t know what heinous lies the Murphys have fed you, but… I don’t know if I’d call him my best friend.” Javier protested with a roll of his eyes, sipping at his beer. 

“Ignore him.” You remarked, stretching out lengthwise on the sofa and stretching your legs over his. “We moved all the way to Miami just so he could hang out with Steve.” 

“Wait, really?” Monica’s brows rose upwards. “I don’t think you ever mentioned this in class.”

Javier dragged his hand over his face, before scratching at the back of his neck. “I knew it was a half-decent place to raise a family.” He squeezed your calf. “And I liked the prospect of Josie having a readymade friend in Olivia.”

“And Emily, daddy.” Josie reminded him, rolling onto her side to pet Stevie. She lifted her head, looking towards her. The dog sighed contentedly and shuffled on the floor closer to Josie. 

“Emily wasn’t here yet, Josie.” He took another swig of beer before he sat the bottle aside. “If I’d known Miami would be hot as fuck like Colombia—”

“Fuck!” Josie shouted, causing you to jerk upright, turning to stare at her. 

“Joséfina Selina Peña!” You raised your voice slightly and instantly regretted it when you saw Monica flinch in reaction to it. Stevie started barking, bouncing around confusedly as Josie scrambled towards the sofa.

“Mommy! I didn’t mean to say it.” Josie flashed you her best attempt at a charming grin. “I’m sorry mommy!” 

Javier picked her up and settled her onto the sofa between the two of you. “JoJo, you can’t be saying those words.”

She hid her face in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” You played with her curls. “It’s okay, babydoll. I’m not mad. You just can’t be saying that.” 

“But daddy says it.”

You swatted him in the arm. “And he’s been told not to. Haven’t you, Javier?”

He rocked his jaw and sighed. “Yeah. Josie, you can’t say that, okay?”

“But why?”

“They’re grown-up words.”

“Like grown-up drinks?” She looked at you then. “Why don’t you drink grown-up drinks?”

“Because they’re bad for babies. Like you and your sister.” You rested your hand on your stomach. “I’m not mad at you, Josie. But we have a swear jar for a reason.”

“It sounded funny when daddy said it.” 

“Daddy shouldn’t have said it around you.” Javier sighed heavily and pulled Josie into his lap. “Try not to say it again, okay?” He kissed the top of her head.

“Okay.” Josie turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can I please play with Stevie now?”

“Yes, baby. You can play with Stevie.” You leaned over and kissed her cheek, rubbing your nose against it. “Just watch your mouth.” 

She made a dramatic kissing sound as she returned the kiss. She wiggled out of Javier’s arms and moved to slide off the sofa. She crawled, on her hands and knees, towards Stevie who already seemed very amused. 

“You guys are good parents.” Monica remarked, looking between the two of you. “Josie and the baby are lucky to have perfect parents.”

Javier draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “We’re certainly not perfect.” He squeezed your shoulder three times.

“We’re just two people trying to do right by our kids.” 

“Which includes you.” Javier told Monica, letting go of you so he could grab his beer, taking a drink. He crossed his leg over his knee and rested the beer on his ankle as he sank back against the sofa. 

Monica’s brows furrowed, “What?”

You laughed softly, patting Javier’s leg. “I decided that we’ve unofficially adopted you. Your parents might have brought you into the world, but we’re going to make sure you thrive in it.” 

She stared at you. “I really don’t deserve that.”

“You’re a good kid, Monica.” You smiled at her. “You deserve a good life.” 

“Thank you.” Monica rubbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt under her nose. “You’re going to make me cry again.”

Stevie jumped up suddenly and started barking. 

“Hush!” Javier clapped his hands, sitting his beer aside as he got up off the sofa. “What is it?” He questioned, kneeling down in front of Stevie. She bounced a little, barking again as the doorbell sounded. 

“I’ll get it,” You sighed, peeling yourself off the sofa and making your way towards the front of the house. You peered through the window, looking to see who was at the door. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Of course, it just had to be one of the moms from ballet. Javier was right, you were leaving that studio as soon as you got back out into the world. 

You pulled the door open, hands on your hips. “Can I help you Chelly?”

“Oh.” She laughed nervously, giving you a wary look. “I was just dropping off this beef casserole. Missy mentioned seeing Javier at the grocery store and I thought…” She tilted her head. “She made it sound like you weren’t up and about.”

You glared at the woman, “Missy is prone to overdramatizing situations.” 

“Baby, who is it?” Javier called out from the family room. Stevie was still barking and now, given from what you could hear, Josie had decided to join in. 

“Chelly.”

“Who?” He questioned. 

“From dance.” You called back to him, before you turned your attention back to the woman. God, these women needed a fucking hobby that was something other than chasing after Javier’s cock. “I appreciate the casserole, but Javier has dinner covered.” You fixed her with a faux-smile. “And I don’t eat beef.”

“You shouldn’t make him work so hard,” She told you with a tone that made you want to throttle her. “I’m sure he’d appreciate this casserole.” 

You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek, staring at her as you considered your plan of action here. You stepped out onto the brick stoop, pulling the door closed behind you. “I’m only going to say this one time, Chelly so listen. And you can take this back to your little friends and tell them what a horrid bitch I am.” You crossed your arms across your chest, “I know what you’re doing. You heard I was in the hospital — smelt blood in the water. This vulture act is going to stop. Now. If I catch another one of you sniffing around my family, I’m going to make you regret it.”

“It’s just a casserole—”

“It’s not.” You snapped, fingers curled into fists. “I’m not an idiot.” You narrowed your eyes. “I didn’t put up with six years of bullshit working for the DEA to put up with this shit from a bunch of high strung, horny, dance moms.” 

“I don’t—”

“I guess I should thank you,” You said snidely, a slight smirk playing over your lips. “Last time I saw you, you thought you were clever by insinuating that Javier was fucking his students.” Oh, the irony of the current situation. “It inspired a rather fun afternoon fuck for us. So thanks, Chelly.” 

She looked mortified and it really only seemed to fuel you. 

“So take your casserole and fuck off.” 

Chelly started to say something, but you were quick to cut her off. 

“I don’t want to hear your voice” You snapped, taking a step forward. The door opened behind you and you turned around to meet Javier’s eyes. “I have it handled.” 

“Alright, baby.” He said with a faint smile, before he closed the door back.

You looked back at Chelly. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m… so sorry.” 

“Yeah, it’s a little late for that.” Your brows rose upwards. “And tell your friends they can fuck off too.” With that you, headed back inside — nearly crashing into Javier who had been, unsurprisingly, waiting right on the other side of the door. “Hi.”

“You’re a fucking force, baby.” He grinned at you, that look of sheer adoration making your heart ache in the best of ways. 

“We don’t have to deal with them anymore.” You told him with a resolute nod. “Where are the kids?”

“Monica took Stevie and Josie out back.” He grinned at you, “Did you really just tell her to fuck off?”

“This door is surprisingly thin, apparently.” You laughed as you stepped towards him. You reached up, tracing your fingers over his cheek and the soft scruff there. “Yeah. I did. It was pretty spectacular. She might cry in her minivan.” 

Javier leaned down and kissed you. “I love you.” 

You brushed your nose against his. “Right back at you, babe.” 

[thepandapopo]

Absolute Truths

This idea wormed its way into my head and for the life of me I couldn’t get it out.

This oneshot is a little longer than the stuff I usually write (a whopping 8539 words), but I loved every minute of it. I tried editing it to the best of my ability, but honestly I suck at that. No beta, we die like Glenn. #SorryNotSorry #TooSoon ?

Please note this is non canon. The time frame for this is sometime after the Battle of Gronder post time skip and it is a mash up of the GD and BL routes (ie. Dimitri joins Claude and is no longer crazy; Rodrigue still dies. RIP).

Cross posted to ao3.

Pairing: Sylvain x Felix

Warnings: mentions of child abuse and PTSD

Synopsis:

When Felix and Sylvain get hit with a dark magic spell that reverts them back to children, the Resistance Army gets a deeper look into their bond and learn 5 absolute truths that form the foundation of their relationship.

OR

5 undeniable facts of Sylvain and Felix’s relationship.

Word Count: 8539

“Felix!”

Fuck. Sylvain loses sight of him for only a minute but that is all the enemy needs to overwhelm the already bombarded swordmaster.

Pulling the reigns sharply to the left, the Paladin charges across the battlefield, skewering any unfortunate enemies that dare block his way, the lance of ruin glowing like a beacon of fury despite the thick coating of blood on it. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke and dark magic, making it hard to breathe and blurring the red head’s vision. Regardless, Sylvain presses on; determined to get to his best friend in time before the group of mages over the hill finish casting… whatever ominous looking spell they are aiming at Felix.

“Sylvain, get out of here!” Felix shouts angrily, not even pausing his fighting to face the sight of Bella charging her way through the throng with her master astride her.

Shit. Felix cuts down another enemy.

It is never ending. No matter how many falls to his blade, another two enemies take their place. Felix isn’t stupid – he can see the group of mages prepping a dark magic spell in the distance, which makes him even angrier when he spots Sylvain riding to his aid.

Like hell he’ll give his childhood friend another reason to toss himself into harms way. Felix isn’t weak. He doesn’t need protection. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Sylvain to be the one who gets hurt trying to fix his mistakes just because he got a little too cocky and split from the rest of his battalion.

“Fuck.” Felix grunts and pushes his sword hard to disengage the thief that has him in a sword lock. He doesn’t bother to see if he is being pursued and dashes towards Sylvain who is now dismounting a short distance away, Lance of Ruin making quick work of anyone who strays too close for comfort.

Sylvain was undoubtedly within hit range of the spell now. If that idiot insists on being his usual self-sacrificing self, then the least Felix can do is use his own body to shield the older man and take the brunt of the damage.

The tell-tale crackle of magic behind him sets the hair on his nape standing.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

He isn’t going to make it. Damn Sylvain for being so slow – this is exactly why he keeps telling him to take his training more seriously-!

“Fe!”

The last thing he knows before succumbing to the darkness is a hard chest plate knocking the wind out of him and warm, strong arms that remind him of summers spent with a heart lighter than air.

----

1.       Sylvain always has, and always will protect Felix until the day he dies.

Leonie is one of two on the first shift of babysitting duty.

Undeniably, the orange haired paladin would be the first to admit that she wasn’t the greatest with kids, however there is only so much the tiny, and thankfully unconscious, Fraldarius boy can do given his current predicament.

No one really knows what happened after the enemy spell envelops Felix and Sylvain, the larger of the two curled protectively around his companion as they fall. No one even knows what the spell is.

But what they do know is that now, instead of a regular sized Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Sylvain Jose Gautier, they have a chubby cheeked blue haired cherub and an unfairly-cute-even-as-a-child ginger.

It is in the middle of bemoaning her poor luck at drawing straws when the mini-Felix begins to stir and she feels panic clawing its way up her throat.

“Ngghh…” small, unscarred hands balled into fist come up to rub at bleary amber eyes before they widen almost comically as they take in his surroundings.

“Uhh… hey.” His gaze snaps towards Leonie and she can feel her terror rising with mini Felix’s hysteria, clearly evident by the shiny glaze beginning to cloud his eyes and the fat crocodile tears gathering at the edges of his almond eyes.

“It’s okay, Felix. It’s just me.” She reaches out a hand tentatively in a placating gesture, but quickly withdraws back as young Felix lets out a squeak and scurries as far back into the corner of the bed as he can get, taking his older self’s wool Fraldarius crest blanket with him, as if it could shield him.

“Wh-wh-who are you?” The poor thing is absolutely terrified and damn it, Leonie wants to comfort him, but she is equally as distressed here and this is exactly why she didn’t want to babysit.

“It’s me, Leonie. You don’t… you don’t recognize me?”

It comes out sounding more like a statement than a question.

It’s so painfully obvious that little Felix has no idea who she is.

Which means he doesn’t have his memories.

Which means they are down two of their best generals.

Which means they are well and truly fucked.

So, Leonie does the only thing she can logically think to do.

“Come on,” She says, rising from her bedside chair and reaching for his arm. “We need to go tell Linheartd that the situation is much worse than we had originally thought.” But as soon as her hand wraps around his forearm, Felix screams.

“Oh shi-! Felix! Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you!”

If anything, this just seems to have the opposite effect and the wails increase to near piercing.

Leonie thinks it may be a trick of her mind, and probably her ears because holy crap does little Felix have a set of lungs on him, but she is pretty sure that Felix is screaming out a name.

Specifically, a name belonging to a certain red head that is, the last time she checked anyways, unconscious two doors down from his room and currently being watched over by Caspar.

“Fe!” The door bursts open and suddenly there is chaos.

Was being watched over by Caspar, Leonie amends in her mind.

“Get back here!” The blue haired warrior lunges and swipes his arm out trying to catch mini Sylvain who is slipperier than a fish in water, using his short height to duck between legs and launch himself onto the bed.

“Leave Fe alone!” Honey brown eyes that are so very familiar yet also so different, are glaring holes into Leonie and Caspar, proudly defiant and blazing with determination. Short arms stuffed into the smallest adult shirt they could find on short notice stretch out protectively, completely shielding Felix from sight.

“S-Sylvain,” comes the little sob from behind him and the older boy spares a second to throw a comforting smile behind him. “Don’t worry, Fe. I’ll protect you.” And Goddess, he sounds so genuine and earnest that it makes Leonie wonder what happened to cause their Sylvain to hide behind fake laughs and charming lilts of the tongue.

“Sorry, Leonie.” Caspar is gasping for air like he has just run a marathon. “I tried to keep him in his room but as soon as he heard Felix screaming, he was out faster than I could blink.”

“Ugh. Just go get Ingrid and the Professor.”

----

2.       Sylvain hates himself and his crest, but Felix likes him in spite of it.

A day later finds Ingrid watching over the five year old Felix (“What?! He’s five? But he’s so tiny.” “Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll cry again.”) and seven year old Sylvain.

“Just stay in this area, okay?” She calls out over the din of raucous laughter echoing throughout the courtyard. “I don’t want you two wandering off and getting into trouble.”

The play wrestling pauses for a brief moment and little Sylvain sticks out a tongue at her.

“We don’t get into trouble! You’re just a party pooper!”

“Yeah! Party pooper!”

Shoving down the urge to smack her childhood friends into the next moon, Ingrid settles for watching with pursed lips as Felix dissolves into giggles, Sylvain’s grabby hands finding purchase in his sides and tickling him relentlessly. The look of such carefree happiness on their faces makes her heart clench and eyes sting.

If Ingrid is being completely honest… she misses this.

She remembers what it was like not carrying around a broken heart for a man buried six feet under, his remains not even whole enough to bring home. Back when she could play wrestle with Fe, Sylvie, and Dima in the dirt and then go to Glenn to kiss her knee better when one of them inevitably accidentally activated their crest and used too much strength, resulting in tears and scrapes and bruises.

It doesn’t do her any good to dwell on the past.

The dead should be left to rest, and the living should move on.

For an emotionally constipated guy, Felix is dead on with his philosophy.

Though she has long come to terms with her betrothed’s death, the small sliver of envy she has for her two oldest friends still lingers in the deepest, darkest recesses of her heart.

They’re lucky that they still have each other, even though they spend half the time bickering and denying their feelings.

“Is that the Gautier boy?”

Two monastery staff members stop beneath the path archway and look with undisguised admiration.

“So handsome at such a young age!”

“And I hear he’s incredibly charming too.”

Ingrid knows that Sylvain and hear them. He has always been keen of hearing, especially when it involves others gossiping about himself, for better or for worse.

Felix takes advantage of Sylvain’s distraction to get the upper hand and rolls on top, completely oblivious to the onlookers.

“If I were his mother, I would have secured him a betrothed as soon as he was tested for a crest.”

A hum of agreement. “Yes. His family is blessed with good looks so it would not be hard to secure an advantageous match. The Gautier line will likely continue on stronger than ever with such a prized heir.”

“Sylvain? Why did you stop?”

Felix is all wide eyes and adorable pouty cheeks, staring confusedly down at his best friend underneath him who has gone strangely silent with a strangled expression.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?”

The two gossipmongers snap to attention at Ingrid’s sharp tone, her expression clearly telling them to get the hell out of here or risk facing her wrath.

With rushed replies of “yes, sorry miss!” and “our apologies”, they scurry off down the pathway and disappear around the corner.

But unfortunately, the damage is already done.

“Sylvain? What’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

Gently, the older boy extricates himself from Felix’s death grip of a grapple and stands up with his eyes cast downwards. “Sorry, Fe. I… I don’t want to play anymore.”

“What? What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“I’m tired. I want to go back to our room.”

It only takes one look at Sylvain’s expression before Felix is latching his fists into the fabric of Sylvain’s pants with a scowl on his face.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, Fe! I don’t want to play anymore.”

“We’re best friends aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah, of course we are.”

“Best friends don’t lie to each other.”

Ingrid has patiently watched the exchange between Felix and Sylvain to this very moment, hoping that they can sort out this argument without her intervening like she always did as a child, but through years of experience, she can sense that one of them is about to snap and she would very much like to avoid that.

“You know the only reason we’re best friends is because our parents are friends and we both have crests.”

There it is.

It’s absolutely heart breaking how Sylvain has already learned to self destruct at the tender age of seven. If Miklan were still alive, Ingrid would skewer him a thousand times over for instilling the mantra of ‘you’re not worthy of love’ into Sylvain’s head.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go-“

“You’re a stupid head if that’s what you think.” Felix’s interruption shocks her. His usually bright amber eyes are fixed in a watery glare leveled at the boy opposite him. Right now, Ingrid may as well be invisible for all Felix cares.

“What?”

“You’re a stupid head!”

Sylvain looks absolutely affronted.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are!” a few tears have managed to slip beyond the barrier and trail down Felix’s cheeks. “I don’t care that our parents know each other. And I don’t care about any stupid crests.”

Felix marches up to Sylvain with all the anger he can muster in his five year old glory and reaches up to smoosh his cheeks together. “I’d still pick you to be my best friend in the whole wide world because you’re funny and nice and I’m always happier with you than Ingrid or Dima.”

Sylvain can only stand there with his lips parted in round ‘o’ from his cheeks being pushed together and a dazed look in his eye. Felix takes this as a sign to continue his little tirade.

“And I know you’re smart so you should stop being such a stupid head because I don’t care what you think. You’re my best friend and I’ll always pick you over any stupid crest.”

“Fe…”

She recognizes that tone. Ingrid looks away then because she fears that if she doesn’t, the part of her heart that belongs to Glenn might just twist its way into her throat and choke her with envy.

Sylvain is giving Felix that look that she has seen many times throughout their lives whenever she watches her two friends from afar. It’s one that everyone, except for Felix, has seen a million times and knows that to Sylvain, the world around him has fallen away except for one person.

“You’re my best friend, Sylvain. So, don’t lie to me.”

For the first time since the gossipers appeared, Sylvain lets a smile slip through.

“Okay. I promise.”

Felix eyes him warily and searches for any hint of a lie in Sylvain’s expression. Once satisfied, he loops his own pinky around the one outstretched to him.

“Good. Now let’s go play Knights and Bandits!”

Perhaps it is because Felix is always looking ahead that he never sees how Sylvain looks at him like he was the one who hung the stars and moon in his dark sky, illuminating his life with happiness and love.

----

3.       Felix feels so much and Sylvain is the only one who understands him even without words.

A collective sigh echoes throughout the monastery when they find out that mini Felix and mini Sylvain aren’t too picky with their food.

Granted, even as a child, Felix shows a proclivity towards eating meat; but with a little friendly jostling from his best friend, even the youngest Fraldarius son can be convinced to eat his brussel sprouts.

Which is exactly why Claude is so baffled when Felix starts to protest eating during mealtimes.

“What do you mean he won’t eat?”

He’s well aware that he probably sounds like an idiot, if the exasperated look Lorenz is giving him is anything to go by; but they haven’t had any trouble before so it makes absolutely no sense that Felix would start being picky now.

“It’s exactly as I said,” Lorenz frowns. “We were all simply sitting together enjoying a meal, when Felix stopped eating and refused to finish his dinner. I’ve been told this is now the third occurrence in a row that his has happened.”

“Was he full?” Byleth pauses from looking through some supply requests to chime into their conversation. Although she has not outright said anything, Claude knows his love well enough to tell that she is stressed about their current predicament. Felix throwing a silent protest against food is just one more thing to add to her pile of worries that she doesn’t need.

“Don’t worry, Teach,” Claude winks and flashes his signature grin. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You just worry about securing our supplies for the next moon, yeah?” His chair lets out a deafening screech as it drags across the floor, drowning out any protests their former professor may have and providing Claude the distraction he needs to usher Lorenz out of the room with him.

“Claude, are you sure you know what you are doing?” The doubt rolling off Lorenz would have offended a lesser man, but Claude has spent his life being the underdog and he lets the words bounce harmlessly off him. “Felix is not an enemy to be outsmarted. He is simply a child who only adheres to emotion.”

“I am aware of that, yes.”

“Then why do you look as though you are about to hatch a scheme?”

Because he is.

And although Felix is not an ‘enemy’, per say, doesn’t mean that Claude can’t use his usual tactics of watching and observing his opponent until he has hatched a plot to take them down. Hence, leading to Claude’s current position tucked away in the far corner of the mess hall during the following breakfast.

Even on his off days, Claude is always watching and learning. He knows the favourite foods of all his fellow comrades in arms and he also knows whom everyone’s preferred companion is.

There is very little that escapes his notice, and the Resistance Army leader is confident that he will have a plan by sundown at the very least.

It is a little past 8am when the two children sleepily trudge their way into the dining hall with Bernadetta, their ward for the day, close behind them.

Nothing seems particularly strange or odd when they join the line to retrieve their meal; and nothing remarkable happens either when Bernie leads them to the only empty table left in the middle of the hall.

“Good morning, Bernadetta!” Raphael greets cheerily and shuffles his mountain of food over to join the trio at their table. “Good morning, Felix, Sylvain!”

The little ones mumble back a greeting, but their voices are lost in the din of the morning meal chatter.

So far, so good. Felix is still eating his porridge (albeit with an adorable frown on his face) and talking animatedly about goddess knows what with Sylvain, who occasionally turns to answer a question from the adults.

“Oh, good morning, Bernadetta, Felix, Sylvain!”

Slowly but surely, the table begins to fill as their friends meander into the building in search of food to start their day. Greetings are exchanged and unsurprisingly, Felix and Sylvain garner a lot of attention due to their current forms. Sylvain, ever the chatterbox that he is, fields most of the questions; Whether it is because he is being considerate of his quieter friend or if he simply relishes in the attention is debatable, but Claude cannot help but notice how his eyes constantly dart back towards Felix who grows increasingly frustrated.

“Oh, you’re just too adorable!” Annette’s squeal of delight reaches even Claude’s remote corner and he assumes that the wince he sees from Felix is due to the sheer volume of the orange haired mage. Sylvain, the current object of attention, just flashes her his prize winning smile; his dimples making him look even more endearing than he already is.

The adults gathered around the children don’t even notice that Felix has stopped eating. Nor do they see Sylvain quietly reach below the table to grab Felix’s smaller hand in what looks to be a gesture of comfort.

In fact, it takes another five minutes of cooing and fawning before Raphael, of all people, notices that Felix is now glaring with teary eyes at his bowl of half eaten porridge.

“What’s wrong, little buddy? Not feeling well?”

Immediately the attention shifts to him and the effects are just as disastrous as Claude predicts.

“I’m not hungry.” Some of the porridge finds its way onto the table as Felix pushes his bowl away with such ferocity, Claude is half surprised it doesn’t completely tip over.

“What do you mean you’re not hungry?” Annette frowns. “This is the fourth time you’ve left a meal unfinished. Are you not feeling well? Do you need to go see Mercedes?”

“No. I don’t wanna eat anymore.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Felix? We just want to make sure you’re not getting sick.”

“I’m fine.”

It’s a big fat lie and anyone with half a brain can hear the distress and frustration in the blue haired boy’s voice. One lone tear manages to squeeze its way out of Felix’s water logged eyes and that’s all it takes for the table to burst into a flurry.

Claude almost feels bad for Felix as the adults descend on him like a pack of vultures, all of them crowding him and trying to coax the reason for his distress out of him. The Almyran prince has half a mind to go over and rescue his friend in arms from a situation that is probably in his top ten worst fears, but before he can even get out of his seat, Sylvain is already bounding out of his chair with a teary Felix in tow.

Sylvain shouts something about ‘Knights and Bandits’ and they’re out the southern doors before Bernadetta can even process what has happened.

Felix’s half eaten bowl of porridge sits on the table completely forgotten.

----

At lunch, Claude decides to test a hypothesis.

He asks Mercedes and Hilda to sit with the kids at lunch and pay special attention to Felix.

To everyone else, he gives them strict orders to leave their table alone.

Satisfied with how his experiment is set up, Claude finally seats himself back in his observatory spot with his own lunch sitting in front of him.

He’s not expecting amazing results. In fact, he’s not expecting his first hypothesis to be a success at all, but he wants to try it none the less because there is always the possibility that mini Felix fundamentally operates much differently than the Felix that he is used to.

What he doesn’t expect is for Felix to immediately shut down the minute Hilda tries to engage him in some conversation about the games him and Sylvain play in the courtyard.

Today’s lunch special is Daphnel Stew and Claude has it on good authority that it is a favourite of Felix’s (technically Dimitri is a reliable source, right? They were childhood friends after all).

Sylvain tries his best to jump into the conversation and pull some of the attention to himself, but Hilda is every bit as smooth of a talker as Claude is; deftly maneuvering the conversation back to Felix no matter what Sylvain does.

This time, it is Felix that reaches for Sylvain’s hand under the table.

Except instead of just holding Sylvain’s hand, Felix starts to pull at it every time Mercedes or Hilda asks him a question, as if pleading for his friend to save him.

At least Claude could now say for sure that Felix is not, and never was, a fan of being the center of attention.

When the first afternoon bell tolls signaling the end of lunch, Felix’s stew remains uneaten and untouched. On the way out of the hall, Claude looks the other way and pretends not to notice when Sylvain steals an apple from the pantry.

His experiment doesn’t exactly succeed, but he cannot write it off as a failure either. The information gathered from his two observation sessions is plentiful and a solution is forming within his mind even as he makes his way up to the war room to meet Byleth for their afternoon strategy session.

By the time he pushes open the door to his usual haunt, Claude is absolutely certain of two truths.

One, that Sylvain knows Felix better than anyone could ever hope to compare, and two, Felix Fraldarius is incredibly lucky to have an attentive best friend like Sylvain because stars above, does he suck with using his words.

----

When the hour before dinner time rolls around, Claude makes sure to talk to everyone he passes by and give them the order that no one is to approach Felix and Sylvain’s tables at mealtimes anymore. He tells them to pass the word around and it doesn’t take long before the entire monastery is in the know of their Leader’s command.

“Care for company?” Byleth smiles and sets her tray down beside his own without waiting for a reply.

Claude does a quick survey of the area to make sure no one is looking before leaning in to land a quick peck on Byleth’s cheek. Joy flutters in his stomach at her rising blush and he merely laughs and winks at her stuttered protests.

“Check it out,” Claude quickly changes the subject and nods his head over to where Bernadetta sits exhausted with a now cheerful Felix and Sylvain. The latter nodding enthusiastically to their conversation with the occasional laugh and both of their plates near devoid of food.

A tiny rush of pride swells when he sees the relived expression on Byleth’s face.

“Told ya I’d take care of it.”

Underneath the table, he flips his palm facing upward so that he can intertwine his fingers with her searching ones.

“Yes, you did.” The unspoken thanks lingers in the air between them, louder than the constant buzz of activity in the room.

For the first time in a while, the former professor looks more at ease. And Claude, being the shit stirrer that he is, cannot help but toss a little fuel into the fire.

“So… who do you think will wear white at the wedding? Between the two of them, I think Felix is the better choice.”

“What?!”

----

4.       Felix has an unwavering faith and belief in Sylvain that he’s not afraid to stubbornly stand by to the bitter end.

“Annie, are you sure this is a good idea?”

If Mercedes is concerned, then Lysithea is absolutely certain that no, this is most definitely not a good idea.

They are at the part of the training grounds where the various magic users can come to practice and hone their spells. The ground is singed with charred marks from stray thunder and fire spells, the black streaks contrasting starkly with the pale stone underneath. To the side, there is also a sand pit where mages can practice some more destructive flame based spells.

“I’m just a little curious, is all!” Annette whispers back. “I know Sylvain is really good with magic even though he never uses it. He was the one who helped me understand that magic formula that I was stuck on for a week, after all. I was thinking maybe he might show an aptitude for Reason as a child.”

“That’s fine and all; but I’m not really sure how safe it is to teach a child how to conjure a fire spell. That just seems like a recipe for disaster.”

The orange hair mage cannot help but look slightly put out by Lysithea’s comment.

Yes, maybe it wasn’t the safest idea ever… but Annette just really wants to find out the extent of Sylvain’s inherent abilities. Even after she makes him promise to take his training more seriously, she still feels like he is holding back on her when they are paired together.

“What kinda magic are you gonna show us?” Felix is eager and bouncing on his toes. The House Fraldarius specializes in swordplay, not magic, so this is a treat for him and he can barely contain his excitement.

“Oh well, I was thinking we could start off with a basic fire spell!”

“Oooh, fire!”

Annette really hopes that Felix doesn’t have a penchant for pyrotechnics.

As much of a bad idea as this is, Lysithea can’t exactly bring herself to leave them in case something goes terribly wrong. She is the strongest, most advanced Gremory the Resistance Army has; with her around, she’s confident that the worst that could happen would be some singed eyebrows and possibly an impromptu need for a haircut. But even that is an outcome that she is hoping to avoid.

Once the target is set up, Sylvain and Felix eagerly make their way over to the sidelines to watch Annette demonstrate a basic fire spell.

It’s nothing special really. Even the older Felix and Sylvain could probably cast it without much problem, but to their younger versions, the small ball of fire is so grand and spectacular that it warrants oo’s and ah’s and enthusiastic applause.

“Wow! That is so cool! Isn’t that so cool, Sylvain?”

Felix is pulling on Sylvain’s sleeve and the older boy nods emphatically with admiration shining in his eyes.

“Do you think you could do it too?”

Lysithea is startled to hear the question Felix asks Sylvain. Of course, Annette was already planning to ask the Gautier boy to attempt the spell, but that was out of curiosity.

From the shining look on Felix’s face, Lysithea knows that he is asking because in his mind, there is nothing that his smart, talented best friend in the whole wide world cannot do.

“Magic is difficult to learn and takes time. It can take years for some to learn just the basics.” She cuts in before Sylvain can answer.

She doesn’t want Felix to unwittingly trap him with an unrealistic expectation that he cannot meet and she figures it is better to disappoint him now rather than allow the red head to try and then feel guilty when he disappoints his friend.

“Sylvain is smart. I bet Sylvain could do it!”

Felix is pouting in that way that they are all quickly learning means ‘I’m right and you can’t convince me otherwise’.

“I’m sure Sylvain is very smart!” Mercedes agrees and gives the boys her best placating smile. “But I’m not so sure that a person could learn how to cast a Fire spell in one day! Why, it took Annie and I at least a week of practicing before we could do it!”

“Yep, I remember I almost burned my eyebrows off the first time I tried! But I can teach you the basics maybe and then we can bring you here again next time to practice?”

The urge to verbally reprimand the warlock for her relentless pursuit to satisfy her own curiosity rises and Lysithea has to physically clutch her biceps to stop herself from bursting.

Fine. If they were so eager to set themselves down this path, then so be it.

“Yeah!” Felix is literally vibrating with excitement and Sylvain looks nervous but determined to not let his admirer down.

Heaving a sigh, Lysithea moves to settle next to Mercedes who sends her an apologetic smile.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

----

Unsurprisingly, Felix does not do so well with learning the basics.

The diagrams and symbols are a little too much on the side of complex and it becomes apparent rather quickly that there is a reason the Fraldarius men carve through the battlefield with swords instead of magic.

“Aw, it’s okay Fe! You’re still the best with a sword anyways. You don’t need magic!” Sylvain ruffles his hair and smiles. “You’ll always beat me at swordplay.”

The small admission is enough to cheer Felix up and after a bit more nudging from the older boy, he runs off to play around with the wooden practice swords they have on the other side of the training room while Annette and Sylvain continue to work on creating basic magic circles.

It’s only after the third hour and Mercedes has long left to attend to various chores that Lysithea turns to watch Felix go through rather crude sword forms instead.

“You need to spread your feet farther apart.” Using her own foot, she nudges Felix’s left heel to the side to widen his stance. “Try striking again now.”

The wooden sword wobbles a bit in its trajectory, but the swing is undoubtedly much better than before. The sheer delight that lights up in Felix’s eyes almost makes Lysithea laugh out loud because she recognizes it as the same gleam she sees in the older Felix’s eyes when he executes a particularly hard maneuver.

“Why aren’t you watching Sylvain and Annie?”

For a five year old, Felix is incredibly perceptive.

Rather than lie to him, Lysithea opts for honesty because she is sure that’s what older Felix would have wanted.

“I don’t think he’ll succeed.”

Felix frowns. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know how hard it is to learn magic. I’m sure Sylvain is very intelligent, but it takes a lot of hard work to use Reason.”

“Sylvain can do it. I know he can.”

She sighs and turns a baleful eye down at Felix. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you.”

“Glenn said that to me too when he didn’t believe me that I could stay up all night waiting for Sylvain.”

“And did you prove him wrong?”

Felix turns to full face her, expression full of gravity.

“Yup.” The dead seriousness of his tone looses Lysithea’s first laugh of the day and she cannot help but be drawn towards this little boy, the same way she was drawn to his older self.

Deigning not to continue a lost conversation, the cake loving Gremory opts to turn back and watch the progress that the other two have made, leaving Felix muttering to himself about his steadfast belief in his best friend.

----

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!”

The sun is setting and it is nearly time for dinner by the time Sylvain and Annette break away from Magic and Sorcery: Vol 1. to actually put some practice to the theory they have spent all day studying.

“Now, don’t be too disappointed if you can’t get it.” Annette says while moving out of the way. “You did just learn the basics and it takes a lot of practice!”

Lysithea has not moved from her perch from a nearby bench. She’s still extremely skeptical that Sylvain will manage to do very much at all. Yes, it is true that he had a budding talent for Reason during their academy days, but Sylvain hardly ever applied himself to any of his studies. The professor had to literally force him to attend one on one magic lessons with her before his aptitude for spells finally emerged.

Although, she muses, this younger Sylvain seems to be more enthusiastic to participate in things he was interested in. Even now, the scrunched up look of concentration on his face is indication enough that the Sylvain Lysithea is used to is a much different creature than the one before her currently.

House Ordelia does not really have any established trade routes with the Gautier territory, but the Ordelia heir has heard enough to know that the current Margrave is an arrogant, crest-obsessed prick.

It doesn’t take a prodigy to connect the dots and surmise that Sylvain’s carefree attitude and refusal to apply himself to anything is a product of his father’s suffocating expectations.

Fuck Margrave Gautier.

Maybe Lysithea does want Sylvain to prove her wrong and succeed; then at least he can go back home and light his father’s breeches on fire.

She’s only slightly disappointed when her expectations prove correct and the best Sylvain can conjure is one tiny flicker from a lone flame in his hand. However, it is still much more than she thought Sylvain would be able to do and for that, she is genuinely impressed.

Annette is also very much awestruck with Sylvain’s quick learning and happily informs the boy of this all the way to the dining hall. Sylvain is uncharacteristically quiet as he listens to the older mage praise him, but he is not yet skilled enough in the art of hiding behind a mask and the slight downward tilt of his lips does not go unnoticed.

“You really did an amazing job learning so much in such a short time, Sylvain! Don’t be too disappointed that you couldn’t do it.”

Sylvain gives a weak smile in return, but it is Felix who ultimately responds; one hand clasped tightly in the Gautier’s and the other one balled into a fist.

“Sylvain can do it. Just watch.”

----

Dinner passes without much fanfare and the boys are eventually tucked in for the night. Claude and Byleth have long decided that a full-time night chaperone is no longer necessary; although occasionally, one of their friends will peek into the room in the dead of night before they retire, but very rarely do they find anything wrong that requires their attention. A week has already passed with no incident, so there should be no need to exhaust their soldiers by keeping them up at night.

Except this time, when Petra nudges the door to their room open – being extremely careful not to open it too fast lest the hinges squeak – she does not see any sign of Felix or Sylvain anywhere.

It is the dead of night, but Garreg Mach Monastery blazes alive with a flurry of panic at the toll of the emergency bell.

“You’re absolutely sure no one saw them leave their room?”

Seteth slams his palms on the table and interrogates the night shift guards; his brows furrowed and mind racing a mile a minute.

If the enemy has somehow managed to sneak into Garreg Mach and kidnap the children, then they are well and truly fucked. They may have to abandon their home base or at the very least do an extensive investigation of their current ranks and re-evaluate their current passive defense.

“There were no signs that a struggle was happening.” Petra voices from her place around the war table. “I am having confidence that they left with willingness.”

“Goddess, please keep them safe.” The situation leaves a bad taste in Flayn’s mouth; it is much too reminiscent of when she was kidnapped and although it has been years since the incident, the memories still plague her.

Byleth’s voice leaves no room for discussion, “everyone split up and search the grounds. Most of our facilities are locked up at night so that should help limit the number of places we need to search.”

Everyone dashes out of the room with their orders and branch off at the second floor corridor. Those once belonging to the Black Eagle house comb through the main hall while the former Blue Lion students check all surrounding independent buildings; the Golden Deer fanning out to cover the outdoor grounds of the monastery.

An hour passes. Then another. And another.

Soon it is 3 in the morning and the panic is truly beginning to set in, giving rise to an unsettling fear clawing its way up from the depths of the night.

“Dimitri, Dedue! Have you found anything?” Ingrid pants and skids to a halt just below the stairs to the Sauna; the rest of her Blue Lion classmates run up to join her and debrief their findings.

“Nothing,” Dedue’s tone is flat as usual but his strangled expression is enough to betray his underlying worry. “We have searched all the open buildings and the grounds. There is no sign of them at all.”

Annette is near tears now and Mercedes places a hand on her shoulder, offering her silent support even while she herself is fiddling with her shawl, an attempt to keep her mind occupied before it spirals.

“It’s not like them to run away,” Ashe frowns. “Did anything happen today? Were they acting weird at all?”

“Not really. All we did was practice magic at the training grounds.”

Mercedes frowns. “Perhaps they left something there and went back to retrieve it?”

“The training grounds should be locked at 11PM. No one should be able to get in or out until sunrise.” Dimitri shakes his head.

“Well then we’re clearly running out of ideas here!” Ingrid throws up her hands in frustration and rakes them through her hair which is on the verge of looking like a bird’s nest. “We’ve checked the dining hall and the greenhouse but –“

“Your Majesty.” Dedue’s raised voice cuts Ingrid short and they look over to see the doors to the training grounds swing open slowly with a slight push of the man’s hands. “The doors were not locked as we thought.”

It takes only a heartbeat for them to scramble through the large wooden doors and down the hallway, their rushed footsteps echoing like thunder in the stone corridor.

“Oh Goddess. I smell smoke. Does anyone else smell smoke?” If her heartbeat accelerates any more, Annette is pretty sure she will have a heart attack.

“It’s coming from over there!” Their King leads the charge towards the magical training arena where the smell of smoke is the thickest.

When they burst into the open area, they are prepared for the worst. Weapons are drawn and hands raised with spells on the tips of tongues, but the sight they are greeted with is enough to shock them into stasis.

There in the middle of the sandpit, hunched over and panting hard, albeit with a brilliant grin on his face, is Sylvain. The practice dummy a few feet in front of him is alit with flames, illuminating the room with an orange glow, casting shadows along the stone walls that flicker like a live audience.

And off to the side bundled up in a woolen teal blanket that they all recognize, is a tired, but extremely proud looking Felix Fraldarius staring directly at the newcomers.

“I told you he could do it!”

----

5.       Sylvain has given Felix all the pieces of his fragile, fractured heart, even if he isn’t aware he possesses it.

Although once his greatest secret, Ignatz no longer hides his passion for art from his fellow Resistance Army members.

It’s not uncommon these days for people to find him at random places in the monastery with his art supplies sketching away at preserving a moment in time on blank paper forevermore.

Today, he is sitting on a bench next to a large oak tree, just a stone’s throw away from the main grounds. Beneath the shade and tucked between two large roots lie Sylvain and Felix, both completely tuckered out from their earlier attempts at climbing the towering tree. Sylvain is starfished on the ground with his arms stretched wide; to his left, Felix lays curled away from him with his head pillowed on the outstretched limb.

Sylvain and Felix have been the talk of the monastery for the past week and it is pretty obvious why. It’s not every day that you see two high ranking generals revert back to their child forms. Especially the most notorious bother-me-and-I’ll-bite-your-head-off and if-it-breathes-I’ll-flirt-with-it Generals to boot.

Of course, stories of their shenanigans and troublemaking usually fill the daily meal conversations, but there is one topic that floats above all else; the one that makes the maids in the kitchen giggle and even the burliest of knights crack a smile:

It is clear that even from a young age, Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius are absolutely smitten with each other.

The two are inseparable and Ignatz is pretty sure that even a blind man would be able to see the absolute trust and unspoken devotion they have towards each other.

Ignatz has spent the day watching Felix and Sylvain, not just because it’s his turn to babysit, but also because he is fascinated with their bond. He had once thought that the Goddess was the most beautiful thing in the world, but the rawness and purity of their relationship fills him with more piety and awe than any portrait or statue of Sothis ever did.

It is like they are two parts of a well-oiled machine. Where one gives way, the other will step in to fill the gap; whenever Sylvain’s insecurities flare up, Felix is always there to chase the demons away with clumsy words and a physical display of affection, using his own body to ground his best friend and keep him close. Likewise, whenever tears well up in the youngest Fraldarius’ eyes (which is unfortunately quite often), Sylvain is there to wipe away the salty tracks and light up Felix’s heart with a smile warmer and brighter than sunshine.

Ignatz’s original plans were to draw the oak tree and the beautiful meadow of primrose flowers, but it seems that there will be a last minute change in muse.

Taking up his piece of charcoal, he begins the outline of what he thinks will be his fondest work to date.

Ignatz doesn’t know how long he spends sitting on that bench hunched over his sketchbook in silence with only the occasional birdsong floating through the silence. It’s so calm and peaceful that he doesn’t even notice that Sylvain has begun to stir until he looks up to find one of his subjects in a different position.

Leonie had warned him that Sylvain has a tendency towards nightmares. She had discovered that unfortunate fact in the first three days when each time she tip-toed into their room to check up on them, she found Sylvain wide awake with wild terror in his eyes and a sleepy Felix clinging to him comfortingly.

Strangely enough, Sylvain also does not startle awake from his nightmares. Instead, he slowly rouses himself as if from a deep sleep and if it weren’t for the glaze of lingering fear in his eyes, none would be able to tell that he had just woken up from a night terror.

That same glazed look is now flickering rapidly around him as if searching for the shadow of a monster that exists only within his mind.

“Sylvain…?”

Wild brown eyes finally settle on steady molten amber ones.

“Fe.”

“It’s okay, Sylvain. I’m here...”

Felix yawns and shuffles around until he is half wrapped around Sylvain with his left hand settling over Sylvain’s pounding heart.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you…” Small hands curl around the material of Sylvain’s shirt in a death grip. Felix’s loyalty and protectiveness so painfully evident even when the boy himself is half asleep. He manages to cling to the realm of the conscious for a little while longer, until the rapid thump thump thump of Sylvain’s heart slows to a steady lulling rhythm, pulling Felix back down under the veil of sleep.

Ignatz has silently watched this entire exchange and to be honest, he’s not really sure that Sylvain or Felix even remember that he is here with them. He cannot bring himself to make his presence known, so he continues to watch and observe.

He watches as the fear that was once in Sylvain’s eyes slowly recede again, the monsters inside his head vanquished in the company of his best friend. It only takes one more glance at the boy cuddled up to him with a hand protectively hovered over his heart to melt away the chains that bind him to the expectations of the people around him.

Here under this oak tree in a field of blooming young love, there is no crest or Miklan or nobility. There is only Felix and Sylvain.

Sylvain holds onto that truth as he wraps his free arm around the younger boy, tucking him more securely under his chin, letting the cool summer breeze lull him back to a dreamless sleep.

Ignatz pulls out a new page and starts a fresh outline. It takes him a little longer than anticipated to finish his drawing, but he figures it’s not such a bad thing since he likes this new version much better.

Later, as he trails after the now energetic boys back towards the monastery, Ignatz tucks his newest masterpiece securely under his arm, being very careful not to smudge the drawing or crease the paper.

After all, Claude did mention something about a wedding and Ignatz thinks that his drawing will make a fine gift.

----

Bonus: They’re just two idiots in love.

“Go away. Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy my meal?”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Felix! You know, the younger you was much cuter. Definitely less prickly, too.” Dorothea pokes his cheek and snatches her hand away before Felix can stab it with his steak knife.

It’s been roughly a week since Felix and Sylvain have returned to their normal sizes, the dark magic having run its course and fizzling out without so much as a final spark. To the rest of the Army, this is a joyous occasion as it means that two of their best generals are now back to normal and can command them again. But to the last class of the academy… it is bittersweet.

Of course, they want their friends to return to normal. But that also means that Felix will go back to hissing and spitting with all the fury of a spooked cat and Sylvain will go back to seducing any individual that makes eye contact with him for longer than half a second.

“Better do as he says, Thea. Felix’s looking extra grumpy today and we wouldn’t want you to lose a pretty little finger.” Sylvain winks at her as he sets down his own meal and settles in the seat across from the swordsman.

The opera singer snorts, “right back to the flirting as usual. Save your hollow words for some other girl.”

“Ouch. Give a guy a break! I just recovered from a dark magic spell after all. Doesn’t that warrant some pity?”

“The only pity is that you immediately lost all your innocent and cute appeal when you reverted back to your regular body.”

Felix scowls at them, “if you insist on continuing your flirting, I’ll just eat my meal elsewhere.” He moves to stand but Sylvain is quicker and grabs his wrist, preventing him from moving.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just stay, okay? Please? For me, Fe?”

Sylvain is looking at Felix with that expression which he knows he cannot resist and Dorothea takes this opportunity to slip away while the two engage in a silent conversation with only their eyes.

“Fine.”

Their meal continues with little fanfare and easy conversation. Around them, their old classmates are scattered in their own little groups and if they notice, none of them mentions anything about how everyone seems to avoid sitting at Felix and Sylvain’s table.

Easy conversation flows into dessert, or more specifically: Felix wordlessly giving Sylvain his peach sorbet and Sylvain beaming a rare genuine smile and promising to join him at the training grounds first thing tomorrow morning.

The sun is slowly dipping below the horizon when Sylvain and Felix gather up their dishes. On their way out of the dining hall, Ignatz stops them with a heartfelt congratulations and a bundled up package that looks suspiciously like one of his works.

“Congratulations? For what?” Artfully tousled red hair shifts as Sylvain tilts his head in confusion and reluctantly accepts the gift.

“O-oh, well Claude just said…”

Dread rises up from the pit of Felix’s stomach. “What did that schemer say this time?”

“…He said that you two were getting married.”

“What?!”

[singledarkshade]

Magical Mix Up

Chapter Ten

(Chapter Nine can be found here)

“Rory,” the Doctor said the moment they were in the TARDIS and the door was closed, “How close to the surface is the Centurion right now?”

The darkness in Rory’s eyes answered his question before Rory stated coldly, “Very.”

Amy frowned, “What does that mean?”

“It means your husband is hanging on to his sanity by a thread,” the Doctor replied, “Honestly, how did you keep everything in check with all those memories running through your head?”

Taking slow deep breaths, Rory shrugged, “I had to.”

The Doctor shook his head with a proud smile, “Roranicus Pondicus, you truly are like no one else I have ever known.”

“Not sure that’s a compliment or not,” Rory murmured. Sitting and dropping his head into his hands, rubbing his temples against the building migraine he’d kept at bay for the past few hours. Now he was able to relax, Rory was losing control.

Amy crouched at his side, “Doctor?”

“I need you to hold onto Rory,” the Doctor told her, “Just give him a connection to who he is while I get what I need to help him rebuild and fortify the walls around the memories.”

She nodded and rested a hand on Rory’s cheek making him look up at her.

“Hey stupid,” she told him archly, “Don’t you dare leave me. Not after everything I did to find you.”

Rory smiled slightly, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“I love you,” Amy murmured, sliding her hand into his, “All you have to do is hold on to me.”

“Always have,” Rory whispered, “Ever since we were kids.”

Amy kissed him, pulling her husband close to her and held tightly.

“Alright you two,” the Doctor’s voice made them break apart, “I said give him a connection not,” he grimaced with mock distaste, “Kissing.”

Chuckling, Amy deliberately kissed Rory again before looking up innocently at her best friend.

The Doctor rolled his eyes before placing a small metal circlet on Rory’s head, “Remember how we did this the first time?”

Rory nodded.

“The TARDIS will help strengthen the walls,” the Doctor reminded him, explaining for Amy’s benefit, “But you have to build them first. Ready?”

Rory nodded, his hand holding Amy’s while the Doctor took his other hand.

“Okay,” the Doctor said, “Start with the first brick. Use your mantra.”

Taking a slow deep breath, Rory started, “Amy, Melody, Home.”

                               *********************************************

 Gideon stood facing Rip once they were alone on the bridge.

“I have to admit,” Rip spoke up finally, “I did not expect to find you like this when I finally made it back.”

Laughing softly Gideon admitted, “Neither did I. Mr Constantine was trying to perform a protection spell on an item from Thermiscrya. I warned against performing it within the confines of the Waverider, but Miss Lance wanted it done as quickly as possible. And…” she spread out her arms, “Here I am.”

“You look…” he walked towards her and gently rested his hand on her cheek, “You’re beautiful.”

A soft blush covered Gideon’s cheeks, “Do you think so?”

Gently stroking her hair back, Rip nodded, “I’ve always thought so.”

Gideon stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist hugging him tightly, “I thought you were never coming back to me. I felt so empty without you.”

“It’s okay,” Rip soothed, holding her close, “I promise from now on, I’m here for as long as you want me,” pushing her back so he could look in her eyes, he added, “I promise.”

A bright smile touched Gideon’s lips, with tear-filled eyes she told him, “Always, Captain.”

“I’m not your Captain anymore, Gideon,” Rip reminded her, “The Waverider is yours. Always has been. The two of you are connected.”

“You’ll always be our Captain,” Gideon whispered, as the lights dimmed for a moment, “We agree on that.”

Rip dropped his head, “I don’t deserve you. Either of you.”

“We can discuss how you make it up to us later,” Gideon told him, “After we clear up everything with the others.”

Annoyed at the thought of having yet another confrontation, Rip sighed, “That’s going to be fun. I take it Sara was not happy when you took control.”

Gideon nodded, “I had to take some steps to convince her that she had no choice in the matter.”

“Before we get into any more discussions with the Legends, I want to say a proper goodbye to Rory, Amy and the Doctor. I also need to change first,” Rip noted.

“I don’t know, Captain,” Gideon said mischievously, “I like you in this uniform. Very dashing.”

Rolling his eyes, Rip started off the bridge with Gideon at his side making comments about how much she liked the Roman look.

 Sara, Jax and Zari finished their check-ups in the medical bay, headed to change then to the kitchen. John was already sitting there, a mug of coffee on one side, a full glass of whiskey on the other and a large slice of apple pie in front of him.

“So, what happens now?” Zari asked.

Jax shrugged, “Rip’s back and Gideon has decided that she’s in charge.”

“Nothing is going to change,” Sara told them, “Rip walked away from the Waverider and left Gideon with us. He left the ship inactive to be used for training and turned her off,” she shrugged, “He’s alive. It’s great but nothing changes. I’m still the Captain, we’re still a team and once Gideon gets used to her new circumstances, she’ll know it’s best to continue as we are. Rip can visit whenever he wants.”

John began to chuckle.

“What? Jax demanded.

John took a drink of coffee before taking a drink of whiskey, “You didn’t see their reunion.”

The other three looked at one another confused, before Zari asked, “What does that mean?”

Shaking his head John took a bite of his pie, “You’ll see but, I’d be ready to be disappointed, Sara.”

Zari and Jax both grabbed some coffee as well as a slice of the pie John was eating. Sara frowned as she took a seat, not bothering with food or drink waiting for everyone else to arrive.

 Rory breathed easily now that he felt the wall rebuilt around the Centurion’s memories.

“What does it feel like?” Amy asked softly while the Doctor put away the equipment, “The wall?”

Rory shrugged, “It’s hard to describe. It’s like I’ve got them put inside a box, but one side of the box is clear, like a thick glass wall. So, I can access them whenever I need to. Whatever John did earlier, opened the box letting them leak out but they’re secure inside once more.”

Amy hugged him tightly before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Go get changed and we’ll make our goodbyes to Rip and Gideon.”

Rory nodded, “I wanted to find a way to check if Rip and I are related somehow. It’s just,” he hesitated before finishing, “I don’t think he has any family. I know his wife and son were killed, that the people who raised did it and even though the people on the ship all claimed to be his friends,” Rory grimaced, “It’s not really the impression I got.”

“Well, they have a time machine,” Amy noted, “And so does the Doctor. I’m sure we can arrange a lunch or dinner together.”

Laughing softly Rory kissed her cheek and headed to change out his uniform, relieved to be able to put it away once more. Dressed once more as himself, Rory let out a sigh of relief. He was looking forward to getting home but first he wanted to say goodbye.

Rip and Gideon were both standing outside the TARDIS when they opened the doors, Rip had changed as well into dark jeans and a grey t-shirt.

“I thought you might want this back,” Amy said, as she carried a long coat out with her, “Although I might steal it for Rory.”

With an amused look, Rip took the coat from her and slid it on. It obviously meant a lot to him from the way he straightened slightly the moment he was wearing it.

“And to thank you,” Rory said softly.

Rip chuckled, “You were abducted, Amy and the Doctor saved me. I don’t see why you’re thanking us. We should be thanking you.”

“How about you both forget thanking each other and we just leave as friends,” Amy rolled her eyes.

“Before you leave,” Gideon spoke up, “I would like to check if there is any reason why you look so similar. It will only take a few seconds.”

“I’d like to see that too,” the Doctor spoke up.

Gideon smiled brightly, “Then follow me.”

 Rory and Rip fell into step with one another behind Amy and Gideon while the Doctor bounced around looking at the technology.

“Just to warn you,” Rory said softly, “There was one of the original people onboard who was a bit less pleased to see me…you…or whatever than the rest. Her exact words were ‘Even when you get your memories back. I will make sure you stay in this cell’.”

Rip frowned, “Did you get a name by any chance?”

“I heard Sara call her Ava,” Rory told him.

“Ahh,” Rip sighed, “Yes, there is possibly some animosity towards me on her side.”

“You don’t seem too worried,” Rory noted.

Rip shrugged, “Well, Gideon won’t leave me in a cell. Besides Ava doesn’t quite know everything she thinks she does.”

Rory chuckled, “I don’t think she appreciated my offer of a therapist’s number.”

Rip began to laugh making Gideon turn to him in surprise, he nodded to her things were fine and followed into the medical bay.

Gideon motioned the two men to take a couch each and as soon as they were settled, slid the medical cuff on Rory while Rip put his own on.

“This should only take a few moments,” Gideon assured them.

The Doctor stood by Gideon’s side, his glasses on as he studied the screen. A blue light covered the two men, disappearing quickly as the scan ended.

“Hmm,” the Doctor said.

“Fascinating,” Gideon noted.

“What?” the other three demanded.

The Doctor motioned to Gideon, “This is your ship, Gideon.”

Nodding to him Gideon turned to Rip and Rory, “You’re not related.”

“We’re not?” Rip asked, slight disappointment in his voice.

Gideon rested her hand on his arm, “I’m afraid not, Captain. It appears that the fact you resemble one another is just a coincidence.”

“So, we’re not technically related,” Rory spoke up, resting his hand on Rip’s shoulder, “The Doctor is family and he’s not related to us by blood. Families are made in many ways.”

Rip stared at him, confused and stunned.

“You can decide if you want to keep in touch or not,” Rory continued, understanding the other man’s silence.

Gideon slid her arm through Rip’s and smiled, “We shall keep in touch. I would like to get to know you both much more.”

“Okay,” Amy pulled out her phone, “Then you need our numbers.”

Gideon took the phone and quickly downloaded the information they needed before leading them back to the bridge.

 “A pleasure to meet you both,” the Doctor said as he opened the doors to the TARDIS, “Rip, no more touching time cores. I don’t want to have to find you again.”

Rip nodded, “Trust me, I intend never to do that again. Although I might get to look at the TARDIS technology next time.”

The Doctor chuckled before heading inside, leaving Amy and Rory to make their goodbyes. Amy reached out and hugged Rip tightly.

“You kept your promise,” she whispered, “Thank you.”

Rip smiled, and simply hugged her back. Amy pulled back and gave Gideon a quick hug too.

“Thank you for bringing him back to me,” Gideon whispered to Amy.

Amy hugged her tighter, “Anytime you need to talk, just call me.”

Smiling as they parted Gideon breathed, “I will take you up on that offer.”

“Good,” Amy grinned, she patted Rory’s shoulder before heading into the TARDIS.

Rory offered his hand to Rip, who took it and smiled as they shook hands.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” Rip told Rory, “I’m sorry again about the team and your treatment here on the ship by them.”

Rory smiled, “You can buy me a drink when you visit.”

“As long as you tell me the story of how you know all you do about being a Roman Centurion,” Rip replied.

Rory hesitated for a moment before replying, “Deal.”

Giving Gideon a quick hug, Rory entered the TARDIS and closed the doors. Turning, Rory nodded to the Doctor who pulled the lever to take them home.

                                 *********************************************

 Gideon felt Rip stiffen slightly as they stepped into the kitchen. John smirked at Rip before leaning back with a glass in his hand looking forward to the show.

“Alright,” Sara said, obviously not wanting to draw this out, “Where are our other guests?”

“They’ve left,” Rip said, “I apologised on behalf of you and the others for what you did to Rory.”

Sara frowned, folding her arms defiantly, “We thought he was you with changed memories again. We did what we thought was best to protect you.”

“No one asked you to,” Rip replied, “And if you had taken ten seconds to listen to him, maybe even check his DNA against the database then you would have known. Honestly, would a little bit of common sense have killed you?”

“I don’t need you to tell me what I’ve done wrong,” Sara snapped, “We’ve been doing this without you for a while, Rip. We don’t need your help.”

Rip nodded, “Of course not. You know everything about time travel. So, what’s a Time Lord?”

At the angry silence from Sara, Gideon stepped forward.

“The Waverider belongs to me,” she reminded the group, “There is still work to do and I am happy for the team to travel with me to continue protecting time. But I am in charge and Captain Hunter is my second.”

“Of course,” Sara laughed mirthlessly, “Meaning Rip is in charge.”

Gideon folded her arms as the lights dimmed, “No, it means I trust him to back me.”

“So,” Jax said, “We just go back to work, the way we used to?”

“More or less,” Gideon replied, “There will be changes but that can be discussed once everyone who decides to come with us is onboard.”

“What if we decide not to come with you?” Zari asked.

Gideon gave her a soft smile, “Then I will return you to your own time.” At the expressions she received to her pronouncement, Gideon added, “If you’re thinking about leaving and using the Time Couriers, you should be aware none of them will work without the Waverider.”

Silence filled the room, but it was Rip who broke it.

“While you’re all thinking over Gideon’s offer,” he said, “We should return to the rest of the team.”

Gideon nodded, and started out the kitchen, Rip at her side. Hearing the others come talking, their voices filled with anger and annoyance, she was relieved when Rip took her hand in his.

At the gesture, Gideon smiled at him.

No matter what, they had one another.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 47: Warming Up

So... Somebody requested an entire episode of Klance cuddles and well, I'm not gonna say no <3<3<3

Also, I know little about anatomy and biology, so my answer to your questions will always be: ALIENS

First  Previous  Next

Turns out there are side effects of being shoved into an Altean healing pod. Keith discovers this after Lance gets in the shower. He’s up in the loft, looking at the frosted world outside, and he’s suddenly freezing. Extremely cold. Shivering. Even the blanket doesn’t help very much.

“Keith?”

“I’m- I’m up h- here!”

Lance’s damp, white head pops up over the top of the ladder. His hair, Keith registers, is curly when wet. “Woah, are you okay?”

“N-not s-s-sure.”

Lance crawls over, right up against him, wraps the blanket around them both. “You are very cold, beloved.”

“N-no sh-sh-shit.”

“At least you’re still sassy.” Lance puts an arm around him, and Keith huddles into his warmth. “This happens sometimes. It should set itself right in a quintant or two.”

“I hope s-so.”

Lance kisses the base of his ear. “Once you're ready to climb down, I’ll get the fire going and we’ll keep you nice and warm.”

“Thanks. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I doubt this is what you wanted to do on your day off. Babysit me. Again.” Keith closes his eyes, settling his head against Lance's chest, feeling, hearing the steady beat of his single heart.

“Oh yes, spending a day with my husband all snuggled up to me. How awful,” Lance deadpans. Then he smiles. “I don’t mind. I like spending time with you. And looking at your beautiful face.”

“You’re the beautiful one.” Everyone on Altea knows it, and people outside the planet have heard of it.

“You’re wrong. Shut up.”

“No.”

“You’re the worst. Just so you’re aware. Ready to go down?”

“I think so.” Keith examines his hands. The majority of his shivering is gone, and he’s not nearly so cold. He should be able to make it down the ladder.

Lance climbs down first. He watches Keith descend, helping him with the last few rungs just in case. He still seems tired, despite their second nap. Lance will have to make sure they both sleep tonight.

Bundled up in front of the fire, Lance immediately knows he’ll be uncomfortably warm for a while, but it’s okay. Besides, he finds himself sufficiently distracted the moment Keith asks-

“Do you want kits?”

“Well that’s one way to start a conversation.”

“I just- It feels like something we should talk about now, instead of waiting for me to go into season.”

Lance blushes. “Fair enough. Um. Actually, I genuinely do want kids. I mean, we’re expected to have two, but I really like kids? I think they’re great, and I’ve always wanted two of my own.”

“Two?”

“Well, yeah. Altea’s not exactly a big planet, so we control population very carefully by limiting the number of children a couple can have. Currently, under law, children are born at a one-to-one ratio. It used to be just two children per family, but with an increase of polyamory, my father changed the law. It’s one of the cooler things my father’s done.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Keith’s ears wilt, one brushing against Lance’s jaw.

“What is it?”

“I… I always imagined more than two.”

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Keith grumbles.

“Well, I- I dunno. I just didn’t think of you as the type. That’s all.” Lance rests his cheek atop Keith's head, feels Keith's tail wrap around one of his ankles.

Keith sighs, settles against Lance. “My family life growing up was pretty much destroyed, but I always imagined doing better. Finding a mate. Just living a life. I want that. A lot.”

“So you want a lot of children.”

“Yes, but just two will be okay.” I guess.

“We’ll find a work around. How many?”

“Four?”

“So, as long as the last two are conceived on Daibazaal, then we can call them accidents.”

“Hey, I’m technically expected to have at least four for my own planet anyway, so…”

“We must do our duty to both of our peoples,” Lance murmurs, grinning when he feels Keith's quiet laugh against him.

“Hm. Very true.” Keith’s smile slips into a small frown, more thoughtful than anything else. “But maybe not this first season. Maybe… Maybe this first one should just be about us. I won’t remember much of it, but I still like to think it’ll mean something. And-”

“And sometimes it's better to take one big change at a time.” Lance kisses the base of Keith’s ear. “I’ll talk to Shiro and Adam about contraceptives, and we can revisit kids in another five phoebs.”

“I’ll be ready then.” Keith closes his eyes. “Thanks for understanding.”

“I don’t understand. That's why I'm glad we're talking about this. I don’t understand at all how your growth cycles work. I don’t understand how you’ll change… Part of me wonders if I’ll even recognize who you become.”

“You’ll recognize me. I’ll be a little more… grown up, but I’ll still be me.”

“So you’ll still be all sassy and beautiful?”

Keith glares at the folds of their blanket, ears aflutter. “Well, I don’t know about beautiful, but-”

“Good thing I’m an expert.” There’s something a little dark in Lance’s eyes now, some piece of want Keith hasn’t ever seen before. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, blinked away. “We should spar tomorrow. I want to do more. Get better.”

"Okay."

"I can show you, if you want. How beautiful you are." Lance slips a hand under Keith’s shirt, drawing fingers up his spine, feeling the way his muscles tense and coil. Curious, Lance reaches out, lets his quintessence sink beneath Keith’s skin, exploring his body. Keith allows it, lets Lance explore him. If he could, he'd do the same. They're such different creatures.

Lance feels the way Keith's body is already priming to grow, feels stores of nutrients beginning to build up in his cells, feels the way his-

“Your bones. What’s wrong with-” It’s not his bones. Not entirely. His growth plates. He can feel them. Loosely knit, they’re not stitched quite right into the surrounding bone. “So that’s why you’re small."

“As rude as that is, it's pretty cool how you can tell. My growth plates are insufficient. Efforts to correct the issue proved temporary. When I grow, it's painful and the physical output is extreme.”

“I can tell,” Lance murmurs, still threading quintessence through Keith’s body. Whatever's wrong with his growth plates, it's something fundamentally wrong. Even his father wouldn’t be able to rectify it. “That plus a season-”

“My body likely wouldn’t be able to support a fetus.” Keith sighs. “That’s the main reason I want to wait, truthfully. I don’t want to go through that... I think my mother did. More than once. She's never said so, but sometimes... I see it in the way she looks at me.”

“I don’t want to go through that either. I won’t put us through that.” Lance closes his eyes, their bodies settling together, sinking into one another. “Galra are so… different. And you are just beautifully made.”

“I am?” Keith twists in Lance’s space, peers up into his blue and pink eyes. “How so?”

Lance gulps. He can see his quintessence firing in Keith’s eyes, in his veins, glowing a pristine blue-white. It's unearthly, ethereal, illuminating the shafts of his fur, his hands, his lips. All the places where veins are concentrated. Haunting and beautiful at the same time.

“I can see… Your hearts beating. I can tell that you’ve always been strong, but it didn’t use to be because of training. You used to have a more… organic strength, didn’t you? I can tell by your muscles attachments. Um… Wow, your eyes really are that large, huh? Not just a kit thing, they’re just big.”

“Is that bad?”

“Um. No? It means you have a pretty face. The surface of your brain is quite well-textured, but I don’t need that to tell you’re intelligent-”

“Do Alteans have a flattery bone or is this a quality that’s unique to you?”

Lance laughs, Keith’s mirroring chuckle inches from his lips. He leans in, brushes their noses together. “I don’t have a flattery bone, nor is flattery unique to me. I just happen to be very, very good at it. Your hearts are beating very fast. Why?”

“You- I think you’re done now,” Keith whispers. Lance immediately pulls away, slips out of his system. But his fingers stay, toying with his dorsal fur, exploring the texture. It’s so different from his own. Alien.

Lance wants to learn all the differences between them, knows he’ll have to start slower than he is. He carefully removes his hand, slips it around Keith’s waist. “Better?”

“Almost.”

And Keith leans up, pressing their lips together, humming into the contact. It doesn’t spark arousal, but it sparks warmth, something he could easily get addicted to. It makes him feel wanted. Even... loved.

Lance tastes like a bright future.

[blissfulalchemist]

For the prompts: 67. “You’re bleeding all over my carpet.” Any characters :)

Okay there have been some requests, mostly me, that I write more Lance because he sometimes falls to the wayside. So thank you! Please enjoy.

Getting a free living situation should be an ideal, more so when one has a day off, not for Lance. Lance hated the valley. There was a reason he chose to never settle here when he finally picked Hope County as his residence. The Whitetails were better, more remote, safer….or they were. They hadn’t been in three years and Lance had been stuck down in the valley for the last year and a half, part of John’s personal guard. Now he was Catlina’s, sorry Mary’s personal guard, a reprieve from having to be around John all the time, and she let Lance have his days off unlike some of his fellow members.

Slamming the door to the fridge Lance used the magnetized bottle opener, the small hiss music to his ears, moving to sit on the couch to put his feet up. Another benefit to being Cat’s personal charge was that she was able to get the good beer and never charged him. He was just getting himself settled ready to put on The Terminator when a sharp knock came to his front door. It came again, before Lance even had the time to think if it was his imagination or not. Another knock, “Lance! Lance, I need your help!” It was Cat’s voice on the other side of the door, she was supposed to be at the center still, taking inventory if he remembered correctly. The knock came again as he made his way to the door.

“Hold on, I’m comin’,” he called out to her, setting the bottle on the table near the door. The image he had of how she would look on the front porch was not what he got when he finally laid eyes on her. Her white and blue clothes covered in dirt and blood, hair a mess, a bruise forming just along her cheekbone, bent over with the weight of Deputy Brooks. He looked just as haggard but the blood was fresher on his clothes, he was the one that was hurt, eyes closed and limp body it was possible she brought him a dead body. “Jesus, what happened?”

She took a few steps forward, “I don’t know. He came at me first. Rambling and going off about Angels and gunfire and god knows what else.” Cat fell to the floor a few feet into the house, Wes crushing her.

“Are you sure he’s alive?” Lance helped lift him enough to get Catlina free. 

She huffed, hands on her hips, “Yeah. He is. Just a little bloody.” Lance looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “Oh yeah he’s passed out cause I sort of drugged him.”

“Sort of drugged him?” Lance shook his head, “What did you drug him with?”

She shrugged, starting to drag Wes to the couch, “A sedative,” she looked at Lance, a smile on her face, “Don’t worry I know what I was doing.”

Lance bent down lifting the local problem child, “Your old job?”

She nodded, “Yeah. I hated when it had to be used, some used it for nearly every little thing,” she frowned at the memories, “but when you’re five foot nothin’ and have already got a few punches from your six three friend, you have to pick your battles.”

It made sense to Lance, though he hoped that the bruise on her cheek didn’t mean a black eye for her. She’d have a hell of a time writing that off to everyone. Lance placed him on the couch and left to grab the first aid kit, “So why bring him all the way here? Why not keep him at the center?”

She was already working on removing clothes looking for the source, “Cause I wasn’t sure what kind of wound it was and you have more experience taking care of that stuff. I only know the basics.” 

Lance looked him over also trying to identify where the blood was coming from, spotting it easily, “Go get some warm water and a towel,” he instructed. She nodded making quick work, “Why not call his friend? Heard he was down this way today.”

Lance shook his head chuckling watching the red run up Catlina’s neck, “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes you did,” he laughed as she started to lightly wipe the blood away, “I know you always try to ditch the night services on Saturdays. So why not call on him for help.”

She shrugged, “Didn’t want to bother him.” 

“More like you didn’t want to embarrass yourself or have him get the wrong idea on who you like,” she shot Lance a glare as he prepped to stitch the cut. “It looks like a slash and didn’t hit anything major, just needs some stitches,” they heard him groan as she got closer to the wound, “You got pretty lucky kid.”

Cat sighed, “I also couldn’t stay long enough to make sure he’d wake up again. I need to leave him here.”

Lance looked up, brows knitted together, “Leave him here?”

“Well yeah. He can’t be left alone.”

“Which is why you call Rafael and have him come get him,” Lance chastised.

“And what if I accidentally killed him? I may remember how much to give to people of similar build as Wes but I’m no doctor,” she crossed her arms looking down to the floor, “What if he was allergic or I gave him too much cause his body is more sensitive to it?” She let out a breath shaking her head, “Killing your crush’s best friend doesn’t really leave a good impression.”

Lance growled going back to getting the stitches ready, “What if he dies here?” She looked at Lance with her big brown eyes, pleading, he didn’t need her to say anything, “If he does die here then I’ll make it look like an attack gone bad. He ran off and hid, bleeding out somewhere along the way.” Lance saw her eyes misting as she gave him a hug, “You know you’d have to deal with two sad men at that point right?”

“Well then we just hope that he doesn’t die then,” she poked his chest, “Hear that Wesley you gotta not die.” Lance rolled his eyes, “What? He doesn’t like his full name. I would stay around long enough to tell the person that.”

Lance glanced at the clock, “Here help keep the edges close before you have to go.” She nodded her hands gentle along Wes’ abdomen as Lance worked as quickly as he could sewing the skin together. She grabbed an old shirt of Lance’s pulling it over him taking the other one with her, “You gonna wash it?” 

She nodded, “And try to sew it together again. No local Targets to replace it, he’s only got so many clothes.” 

Once the deputy was left in an okay state Cat gathered herself, “You going to be okay once you’re at the Ranch?” Lance pointed to his cheek, “You know with the whole bruise and state of your clothes.”

She glanced down, “Oh,” she smoothed her hair out, “I’m sure I’ll come up with some story, maybe use a version of Wes’.” Her eyes looked her friend over before meeting Lance’s hazel eyes, “Thank you, Lance. For everything.”

He gave her a smile pulling her into a hug, “Well someone’s gotta take care of ya,” he kissed the top of her head nodding to the door, “Now get going before people start wondering where you’re at.” He waved to her once she was in her car, watching until she was on the main road, shutting the door. He looked at the sleeping twenty something on his couch, “She may not want to call but I will.” He checked the young man’s pulse, strong and steady, “At least she’s giving you the gift of a nap,” he mumbled before going to grab his beer and settle himself back into his chair. 

Lance had made it to the middle of the second Terminator movie by the time he heard the moans and groans from the couch, Wes rubbing his head looking around, disoriented. He winced in pain as he tried to sit up, “Morning,” Lance said startling Wes. He saw Wes reach for where his gun would have been holstered, “Ah, looks like she took it off of ya.”

“Who?” Wes growled, eyes searching for an exit.

“Cat,” Lance looked to his now empty bottle, frowning, “You know your friend. Must have left it in her car. Probably scared of you having it.” 

“Doesn’t like guns,” Wes shook his head, rubbing his forehead, “Where is she?”

Lance got up making his way to the fridge, “The Ranch. Couldn’t stay unfortunately. You want a beer?” Lance held one up noticing Wes’ eyes land on the Chosen trench coat, “You’re in no danger here, Wes,” Lance assured handing the bottle to Wes. 

“Sure I ain’t,” his eyes narrowed at the bottle being handed to him.

“Do you trust Cat?” Lance asked seeing the slow and small nod from Wes, “Then you can trust me. She wouldn’t bring you here if you were in any sort of danger.” Lance handed the bottle back out to Wes, watching as he took it gingerly. Lance gave him a smile opening up his own bottle, “So what happened?”

Wes tried to sit up the stitches hurting, “Ain’t important.”

Lance pushed Wes back down on the sofa gently via his head, “Stay down Dep, can’t have you bleedin’ all over my carpet,” Lance saw the red start to seep through the white shirt, “‘Specially now you opened your stitches.” Lance sighed and went to grab what he needed. 

“I’ll be fine,” Wes tried to move back on the couch, the pain easy to see on his face.

Lance shook his head, “No you won’t and I gotta take care of you until your friend gets here.”

“You called Raf?” His eyes went wide before he tried to compose his face again.

“Sort of. Got a message to someone that can then tip him off, since she couldn’t do it herself,” he responded rolling his eyes. “Now tell me what it was that got you. Gotta know if you’re at risk for tetanus or some other bacteria.”

“Cat likes him,” Wes mused, pulling up the shirt. 

“Yeah, pretty obvious, I doubt he’s oblivious to it too. Now stop tryin’ to change the subject,'' Lance took a cotton pad with alcohol on it pressing it against the stitching already there. He laughed as Wes hissed in pain. “This is why you should tell me. Less pain now rather than later,” Lance sighed as Wes’ eyes avoided his, “I also hear your friend isn’t too kind to stupid. Could you imagine what would happen if you got worse from something that could have been avoided?”

Wes’ jaw clenched, “Shovel, I think,” he answered through gritted teeth.

Lance nodded, “Let me make a quick call,” he patted Wes’ knee as he stood up to make his way to the kitchen. He pulled the phone out dialing Cat’s number, picking up on the first ring, “Hey did you make it back okay?”

“Yeah. I have to visit the doctor soon cause John had to get all play protective,” Lance smiled at the eye roll he could hear. “Why did something bad happen?”

“It’s perfect you’re going to the doc, need you to ask something,” Lance glanced to Wes who was once again trying to get up, meeting his eyes, “Hey! Lay back down,” he grumbled as he went back to his position. “I need you to ask if the amount for a tetanus shot is the same for every person or if there’s a difference.”

She was silent for a moment, “Yeah I can ask that. Is he doing any better? Did you call Raf at all?”

“He’s fine if not being an idiot,” she laughed, “but I don’t know if he’s coming or not. You should call and ask just to make sure.”

He heard her mumble under her breath before taking a breath, “Okay fine I’ll try calling him.”

She hung up after that, Lance letting out an exasperated sigh, “I swear she’s just like how Sage was in high school.” Lance saw Wes take a drink from the beer finally, “It’s the good stuff. Can’t find it at the Spread, she gets it special for me.”

“Sage?”

Lance shook his head, “Cat,” he looked Wes up and down, “You hungry? I got some snacks lying around.” 

Wes didn’t respond as Lance searched the cupboards for anything that seemed like a substantial snack. All Catlina ever did was talk about them, so Lance doubted that Wes had eaten anything proper. “Who’s Sage?” Lance turned to look at him, “Can’t think of anyone here with that name.” Lance looked away from him, his shoulders slumping, “She your kid?”

“Yeah. Miss her,” Lance pulled down a new jar of jam and peanut butter, the bread being pulled from the stove top. “Haven’t talked to her in a few years. Not since this whole thing started.” Lance finished making the sandwich, “Do you like the crusts?” Wes hummed in response, “The bread crusts? She never liked them but everyone’s different.” Lance cut it into four triangles, “Though maybe you don’t care so long as it’s food,” he walked the plate over to Wes noticing the instinct to cut the crusts off still intact, “Still gotta wait for Cat’s response so might as well eat.”

Wes took the plate, a tentative bite, “Thanks.” Lance nodded, taking his seat once again in his chair, “You got a dad voice.” Wes paused, finishing the rest of the triangles quickly, “She okay?” Lance looked at him confused, “Cat, I mean.”

He gave a smirk, “She’s fine. Tougher than she looks, few bruises and that’s it.” Wes looked down to his plate sadly, “She’s not mad at you. Adores you, dotes on you even when you’re not there. She knows it wasn’t really you, in fact,” Lance leaned back in the recliner, “feels bad that she stuck a needle in your neck.” Wes rubbed the left side of his neck, “That’s why she didn’t call Raf right away. Scared she gave you too much.” A pager beep came from Lance’s phone:

Only dosage difference happens when the person is at a certain weight and age. It’s also recommended that he be given general antibiotics. There was a list of numbers that were recommended for the antibiotics and one other message, Please also make sure he eats. I’ll be by to pick him up in a few hours.

“Alright you gotta stick around here a few hours,” Wes looked up surprised, as Lance made his way to the small fridge under the sink, “Cat’s comin’ to get you.” He pulled out the vials she made sure he had on hand for cases like this, “Probably got out of whatever it is she had to be at.” Lance got two needles out making his way back to Wes, “We can watch a movie if you want,” Lance took the first one and measured it out lifting the sleeve of Wes’ shirt. He took the small alcohol pad cleaning the area, “Got all kinds of movies,” he stuck the needle right into Wes’ arm, “I was just wanting a Terminator marathon,” Lance got the second one prepped as Wes continued to eat, “I can make you another sandwich if you want.” He stuck the second needle in, finally noticing that Wes hadn’t moved or even flinch at the pain, “Huh.”

“What?” Wes looked down his shirt, “I drop somethin’?”

Lance shook his head impressed, “No, just used to having to distract when shots are involved. Nice to see not everyone’s scared of needles.” Wes shifted, as Lance put everything away, the look on Wes’ face concerning him. It was one he’d seen on some of his friends leaving service, shame. Lance got another sandwich made for Wes, no need to press yet but keep an eye out just in case.

Lance inhaled deeply, “You know old Nanette used to make this really great jam made with dandelions in it. Wish she’d make it again but havin’ a harder time with her age.” Wes looked up to Lance confused at the abrupt subject change, “You grew up here right? You ever try it?” Lance started up on stories about the jam and the raucous it would cause, before finally letting Wes pick a movie they could watch while waiting for Cat to get him home.

[alolanrain]

Found Family!AU *Christmas Edition* Pt.2

Imagine Opal dealing with Madam Boss and bby Giovanni

Gio learns all his baking skills from his Aunt Opal

But his mother hated her sister with a passion

So he doesn’t see her often

When Madam Boss dies, it’s a bloody gory mess, he’s the first one to call her

“I have a son.” Is his hello, because I’m not making Giovanni and utter asshole in this AU he’s going to love Ash from a distance and actually steps down from Team Rocket the first time Ash stops him

And Opal is like, “P l e a s e let it be with that Female Kanto Trainer you brought to Galar that one Christmas, she’s such a sweet heart.”

And Opal finds out it is!!!

She puts her foot down on choosing the name bc Giovanni is fucking HORRIBLE with names and Delia was so tired and stressed a lot during the pregnancy to the point she couldn’t get a lot of shit down for the baby’s

Ash forces reluctant Grunkle Kabu to come to Alola for a week to meet up with extremely reluctant Grunkle Nanu

NANU AND KABU ARE EX-BOYFRIENDS

And Ash doesn’t even KNOW

Acerola kinda knows bc there’s this one picture her Uncle Nanu has at his desk at the police station next to a frame of her parents, him, and Acerola as a baby

She never commented on it and catches Nanu either looking at it with such a warm smile or either a really pained look in his eyes

it was a friendly split up

Both got to busy

And just had to let go

But it still hurt them a lot

ALLISTER AND ACEROLA ARE GHOST BESTIES

No but I’m expanding on the relationship of Bby! Ash and Gary with the older Head Chairman, who I’m naming Diego Thorn, and Younger!Rose, and finally Younger!Kabu

I’m hc that the Chairman BEFORE Chairman Thorn was named Theo Grass

So it’s kinda like earth, grass, thorn, then rose

Because it’s the pretty things in life that are truly poisonous

grumpy Grunkles are getting back together with the help of Ash, Gary, and the Ghost baby’s

the only reason why Kabu is considered a Grunkle is because both Ash and Gary seemed to have fucking LOVED him so much and he fathered Delia a lot since her own family was shit

So he’s the honorary Grunkle while Nanu IS Ash’s Grunkle bc yes tf Nanu is Giovanni’s Uncle but he’s really distant so he never actually found out Ash was his great Nephew until Ash at the age of 20-something came stumbling into his police station with wide whisky brown eyes and shocking black hair and a jaw line that seemed to familiar that Nanu could never forget

Chairman Thorn ALWAYS Came down from his work place, dragging Rose and his own assistant/secretary, Milly, to see bby Ash and Gary bc he’s a really big family man and the two boys absolutely adore him as much as Thorn adored them

And Delia was so afraid at first that Opal would nearly be/ or just plain be the same as Madam Boss and hurt the poor girl but it’s quite the opposite

Opal spoiled her SO HARD, she was the one to make sure that Delia and Gio had everything they could need for Bby Ash’s arrival and afterwards

And both women found out that they share a deep love for winter in general

So they start small traditions that they then pass down to Ash and Gary, because the Oaks get sucked into this bc Professor Oak can’t say no and Daisy loves Delia like the mom she barely remembers

And Opal is just like “Yes more great grand babies.”

And she was there for Delia when Giovanni left Ash and Delia, yes she was absolutely ROYALY pissed at her Nephew, but she also knew why Gio did what he did

Because he did the best thing to protect her, Ash, and by extent the Oaks as well

Because he fathered Gary and Daisy as much as Delia mothered them

But it because a tradition to bring the kids up to Galar to see Graunty Opal and Grunkle Kabu and spend the second week of December all the way to a week after New Years there

So like almost a whole month of family lovin’ time

BUT IMAGINE BBY ASH WADDLING INTO THE GYM FEILD AND CLINGING ONTO OPAL WHOS TALKING TO LEON/RAIHAN/OR BOTH BEFORE THEIR GYM BATTLE

AND SHE NEEDS TO GRAB SOMTHING BUT ASH IS CLINGING ONTO HER LEG SO OPAL JUST S C O O P S HIM UP AND HANDS HIM OVER TO THE TRAINER(S) AND IS LIKE “brb gotta go get some stuff before hand” AND JUST L E A V E S THEM THERE WITH BBY ASH WHO HAS JUST STARTED ASKING QUESTIONS AND HAS FALLEN SO HARD IN LOVE WITH POKÉMON

Raihan would just inwardly panic bc he’s never been good with baby’s before

But damn OH DAMN does Leon start bouncing Ash up and down while trying his best to answer Ash’s questions because he absolutely ADORES children at Ash’s age and wants to get better bc his mom and dad are thinking about having another kid and he wants to be the BEST big brother that he can be

Then Gary waddles over bc he couldn’t find Ash and Gary’s suppose to stick by Ash’s side to make sure the younger boy doesn’t get hurt

Raihan would start to panic even more bc there’s TWO babies now

But Leon would be ecstatic because there’s T W O BABIES NOW

HHH SO THEN COUSIN LEON BECOMES A THING

BUT ITS A SHORT THING BC ASH HAS TK GO BACK HOME AND HE DOESNT SEE LEON ANYMORE

but then he comes back with Gou in tow and the first part of the HC happens and then he sees Leon again

And everyone just watches Leon gush’s about how Ash and Gary were so cute as toddlers and then Ash recalls and just screams “COUSIN L!!!!” Because as a Bby he couldn’t pronounce Leon’s full name

And Hop is like “w h a t”

BUT ALSO IMAGINE NEWLY GRANTED GYM LEADER PIERS BEING BROUGHT OVER TO OPALS HOUSE FOR CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS BECAUSE HIS FAMILY IS S H I T AND HE MEETS ASH AND GARY

DELIA KINDA SUBCONSCIOUSLY BECOMES A MOM TO PEIRS DURING THAG MONTH AND ASH IS LIKE

“Y A S ANOTHER SIBLING!!!!!”

And then Piers gets abducted every year until Delia and Ash stop showing up bc their busy with work/traveling

Until, again, Ash comes back with Gou in tow and Gary gets guilted to come up to Galar

And he sees Piers and just gives the man a cheeky smile and then sees Marnie kinda hiding behind Piers and thinks “Ah yes, new sibling #5,437”

And Marnie latches on faster to Ash than Piers has seen her ever do to anyone else bc she’s been grown up on the wild things Ash would get Piers and another boy into before he stopped coming back to Galar every winter

Bede also gains Brotherly Love bc his family kicked him out for being trans and Ash was having NONE OF THAT bc he’s trans himself

I’m thinking about having Ash and Gary together since this AU is kinda like my AM!AU but not really

Still debating on that

But no My favorite part has to be the competition between all the League officials, except Rose bc he’s an asshole, to get the best seasonal themed picture/video with the trio bc OF COURSE Gou is immediately adopted into the family and becomes Ash’s little sibling

Even people like Allister and Bae get into it

Like there’s a picture Melony took for Allister that had Ash lofting the boy up so he could place the star on the small Christmas tree at their gym lobby with Gou and Gary helping to place other decorations on it

Or Bae’s selfie of the Trio with her together with a snowman that looks like a certain Galar Champion, stolen cape and all

Gou fears for a while that they were all just being awkwardly nice about it until Kabu find them out at night behind Opals mansion they were staying at and gently nudges the truth towards them that they actually LIKE having Gou with them and participating with their family shenanigans and other shit and that they ARE family now because do you honestly think Delia is going to let go of you know? Because she sure as hell hasn’t let go of Kahuna Nanu in Alola

God when Ash brings all his friends who don’t have Good Families over it becomes even more Chaotic

Opals like “WHAT DO YOU M E A N YOU NEVER BAKED COOKIES UNTIL THREE IN THE MORNING?????”

And Lillie and Melony talk about ice types over a cup of hot coco why Allister, Bae, and a shit ton of other people are loosing their mind over Silvally because it can change TYPING W T F GLADION

and Ash is like “oh it’s Silvally!” And Gary would be intrigued but Ash literally shares EVERYTHING with him so he can meet the Pokémon another time when Gladion isn’t so bombarded by people bc the blonde was so used to people in Alola who are used to seeing Silvally that he forgot Alola is definitely not like everywhere else

Hhh Serena, May, Dawn, Zoey, and a bunch of other girls talking with Opal, Oleana, and other female League members about fashion and the younger girls find out that the Women watch their performances religiously bc Ash flippantly said something and that got them interested now they can’t stop watch them

IRIS AND RAIHAN DUKING IT OUT ON THE BATTLE FEILD BC IRIS SAID HER DEAGONITE IS STRONGER AND BETTER THAN RAIHANS FLYGON AND HES LIKE “B E T YOU TINER FUCKER!!!!”

RAIHAN DUKING IT OUT WITH DRAYDEN, because he’s still cousins with Delia in this AU, AND W I N N I N G

So it’s canon, from the new Pokémon game app, that Iris is Leon and Hops cousin

So now Leon just rounds on Ash and is so confused bc Iris talked about this one boy name Ash with a Pikachu who acts like such a kid over face time but Leon didn’t make the connection it was THIS Ash she was traveling with

Hhh snuggle piles in the living room after a fun day outside building forts and what not

Like Ash is dead center in the kids pile bc he’s a kid at heart and Gary’s legs are thrown over his shoulder a bc Ash is in a blanket fort/nest with the other younger kids while Gary is pressed between Delia and Daisy

Opal is curled with Serena bc she’s currently getting deets in the fairy world in Kalos

PROFESSOR OAK TALKING TO MELONY ABOUT ICE TYPES BC HE USED TO BE AN ICE TYPE TRAINER BEFORE COMING KANTOS PROFESSOR

All the younger trainers are so focused on the movies as the adults just talk quietly in the background

And Gou is laying over Ash’s lap while on their phone and Ash doesn’t say anything even though his legs are falling asleep

Idk I’m gonna have Lance as Delia’s brother in this AU

But that doe NOT stop him from acting like Ash’s uncle because Ash ripped Lances two titles out from under him in three years

Leon has been Champion for 20-something years instead of the in game 10 Years

So that it could be plausible that Trainer!Leon and Bby!Ash/Gary could meet each other

[qcpmedia]

“Birds of Prey”: A Crisis of Infinite Harleys

by Chris Clay

Ok-- let's get this part out of the way first: I love Harley Quinn.

Have done since her debut on Batman The Animated Series. My mother let my dad take me to see Tim Burton’s brilliant 1989 Batman film (I was 5 at the time) because she was under the assumption that Batman was always the high camp she remembered enjoying in the television show from her childhood. Thanks, Adam West! My journey into comics began shortly after learning to read with classical mythology, so I was totally prepared for all manner of tales about monsters, demons, serial killers, human traffickers, etc. Quickly becoming an avid comic reader, 10 year-old me was a DC & Marvel veteran who spent a lot of mental energy filling in the blanks on the softened-for-cartoons versions of Bats, Spidey & the X-Men. 

After years of seeing "versions" of my favorite supers onscreen, I thought this new character, originally the Joker's jester henchwoman, was a breath of fresh air. She seemed like the perfect fit for both the show and the Joker, the first real Manic Pixie Dreamgirl. She was funny but also scary, vulnerable and just overall awesome. Best of all? She didn’t seem nerfed for kids tv. She just seemed oddly... real. And she was contagious. That complex reality bled onto anyone she shared enough screen time with. She helped me to see Poison Ivy as the troubled yet brilliant and sensitive person the show had always hinted she was. Besides Catwoman, no other character tested Batman's rigid sense of right and wrong more beautifully. Even Joker seemed multifaceted when Harley was around. I cheered as loudly as anyone when she ditched that clown, and those Harley/Ivy episodes were some of the best the series had to offer.

OG Harley & subsequent versions over the years tended to show a woman that was preyed upon by a master manipulator who pushed her to the edge of sanity. To the edge, not over it. She was definitely traumatized, but the original portrayals never presented any extreme mental problems. Sure, she was codependent & had a temper. And shitty taste in men. Those traits in moderation are not craaaazy. That's just being human.

Harley continued to evolve over the years, shaped by many creators and performers across multiple mediums. Her look has changed, her status as villain or antihero has vacillated and her relationships have been presented more and more as on her terms rather than something foisted upon her by chance.

The characterization problems started in comics, but David Ayers' disappointing 2016 Suicide Squad film brought this lesser Harl to the masses, along with a version of her *ahem* more revealing New52 costume, seemingly metahuman durability & chalk white skin. I always loved the idea that Harleen had the ability to take her jester clothing & clown makeup off, sit around with an equally dressed-down Ivy and talk about who they really were, what made them tick. This new Harley (like her modern comics counterpart) was always "on", displaying very little of the soulful, mature character many of us comics & animation fans know and love. Despite that, she was definitely the highlight of the film, and there were flashes of brilliance that made me believe Margot Robbie could get to the fundamental truths of the character if given another chance. 

And that brings us rather neatly to Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn).

Harley Quinn, last seen in the aforementioned Suicide Squad, has just been dumped by the Joker & is forced to make her own way in Gotham City’s underworld. In short order, she meets Dinah Lance, Renee Montoya, Helena Bertinelli & Cassandra Cain. All of these ladies have, for various reasons, fallen onto the radar of neat-freak gangster Roman Sionis, played with scenery-scarfing delight by Ewan MacGregor. Forced to band together to survive, they eventually learn that despite their considerable individual talents, they're more formidable as a team.

For some reason I still can’t quite articulate, I remember being slightly underwhelmed when the cast was announced. I liked all of the actors... hell, each of them has had at least one role I absolutely loved them in-- but I still felt they were odd choices for their respective roles in this movie (more on that later). The trailer was where I got genuinely worried that Warner might be climbing back into the hole so many creators toiled to pull the DC film properties out of. 

However, as I said in the beginning, I love Harley Quinn. I was definitely going to see this movie. In Margot Robbie, I felt Harley had a champion on par with Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool or Hugh Jackman as Wolverine; an actor who would work tirelessly to get their character right, on the page & onscreen, however many tries it took. Plus she was saying some interesting things about what she thought the the film & the character should represent during the rollout (and I know the movie isn't the trailer), so I was at "cautious optimism" by the time I sat down to watch the film.

I was totally wrong about one thing: the cast is the best thing about the movie, and that’s not some backhanded compliment. K.K. Barrett's production design is great, colorful while not feeling cheap or phony, and Cathy Yan has a great eye for fun directing choices that keep things zipping along... but the cast is the real MVP. They’re actually great.

Jurnee Smollet-Bell is understated & surprisingly physical as tough-as-nails chanteuse Dinah Lance, a classic “woman trying to keep her head down in a bum situation”. She gave modern comic book moll vibes & I Stan. Rosie Perez's Renee Montoya brought a dose of realism to the candy-coated insanity swirling all around her while also giving Harley an entertaining foil for the first 2 acts. She has probably my favorite fight scene in the entire movie.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead, the person I went into the movie thinking was the most grossly miscast, is hands down my favorite character in the film. She's equal parts ruthless & socially awkward, a take on Huntress that is somehow both anachronistic & perfectly in step with her comic counterpart. Even newcomer Ella Jay Basco brings a unique charm to what could have easily been an irksome reimagining of fan favorite Cass Cain as a sassy teenage pickpocket. MacGregor’s turn as Sionis is less a character than he is a symbol, acting as a stand-in for various brands of broken maleness, but the guy’s clearly having a blast and he has decent enough chemistry with the leads. Chris Messina as Victor Vsasz is an absolute snoozefest, a waste of both character and actor that I’ll give no more space or attention.

Now for the elephant in the room: Margot Robbie's Harley is my least favorite thing about the whole movie.

"But Chris..", I hear you yelling at your computational device, "...you said she was the lone bright spot of SS!"

True, but in a film with clever, unmuddied direction & other actors that actually display some semblance of emotion or charisma for more than one scene a piece, the bar has been raised this go round & Robbie's frantic mugging limbos under said bar by a mile. What’s worse is that she actively takes screen time that could be better spent fleshing out one of the other four characters. Only Huntress (who has probably the least screen time of any of the leads) actually has a backstory, but her origin is a large part of the plot. One could be forgiven for thinking the she wouldn’t have had one at all otherwise. We don’t really know anything about Cassandra Cain, Montoya is literally just Stock Cop, and you could make a whole movie out of how the hell Dinah ended up singing at Sionis’ club. And where the hell is the Joker?! Why is he letting Harley destabilize Gotham’s balance of power or letting Sionis threaten his ex-puddin’ while also claiming to be the the underworld’s top dog? Instead of answering these questions, we get a bunch of throwaway characters attacking the newly-emancipated Quinn and Suicide Squad flashbacks that look even uglier than before when placed side by side with the production design of this film. The fact that most of these characters are so thinly characterized yet still connect is a testament to the performances and chemistry of the central cast.

You get the feeling that a lot of this movie was Robbie as producer, exerting her ideas & energy onto a massive production that needed a lot of moving parts to line up in order to work. It's not easy to have everything riding on you, whether it’s the future of the DCEU, progressive representation of women in film or just your own movie stardom. I understand that and I sympathize. This frantic, flailing movie is the product of some 3 years of rewrites and pitching, shooting on and off for 9 months, plus all the promo stuff. Every interview that I've seen the cast do has basically been Robbie explaining things ad nauseam while Jurnee Smollet-Bell or Mary Elizabeth Winstead kind of quietly nod in agreement, with the exception of the recent season premiere of Hot Ones, where capsaicin finally allowed someone else get a word in edgewise. The real problem with that comes when you see the movie and realize she’s contextualizing so much of the film on other media outlets because the film itself doesn’t really seem to have the time or interest, leaving it’s star to try and explain what we actually see onscreen on the press tour. This leads to a situation akin to Final Fantasy XV, where the player needed heaps of supplemental content to understand what could and should have been included in the story proper. She just seems overworked, similar to when Ben Affleck wanted to perform the Herculean task of writing, directing & starring in the next solo Batman film. Maybe Margot & Harley both need a little break?

The internet is scrambling to diagnose why a well-reviewed movie starring a beloved character played by a popular actress is underperforming at the box office, citing everything from the trailer to the rating to the movie’s title, with many (including BoP creator Gerry Conway) blaming the lackluster box office on sexism, but I think there might be a simpler answer: this version is trying to pull from the entire history of Harley to create a singular characterization from sometimes disparate portrayals. It doesn’t help that Robbie’s Quinn exists in a universe that’s constantly shifting under her feet after every film.

Most comic characters are criticized for being inaccurate to the source material but Harley has arguably the opposite problem; almost a Crisis of Infinite Harleys, where Robbie and Warner Bros. want to stuff the best elements from every version of Harley into every movie she’s in. It’s supposed to be fan service but instead, often feels scattered and tiring. Not to mention the stuff these films just pluck straight out of thin air that don’t work...

The DC Universe version of the character chose to leave the Joker on her own terms and I thought that was a brilliant and socially relevant writing choice, so it was strange to then see the more mainstream (and arguably more popular) version of Harley be dragged out of Joker’s hideout, kicking and screaming. In a film who’s title was purposely made ridiculously long to accentuate the character’s supposed newfound self-sufficiency, For all of the things that do work well, Birds of Prey just doesn’t feel like what’s explicitly promised on the tin.

I still love Harley Quinn, and I still think Margot Robbie’s the right person for the job. No need to Pattinson her or anything... just put less on her plate and give the character and the movies she’s in a clear, singular direction. Pretty please, puddin’?

[fanfictionized]

The Hating Game - Where It All Began (8)

Characters: Lance Tucker x Latina!OFC

Chapter Summary: The Reader has a hard time believing that people - especially Lance- can change. He’s about to prove her wrong...

Warnings: fluff, making out

Words: 3.4k

The Hating Game - Masterlist // Previous Chapter

Lucy couldn’t stop squirming in her seat, getting home and taking a shower and getting all dressed and ready half an hour before he would come to pick her up.

She sat back in her chair, tugging at the burnt-sienna-colored dress with the low cleavage she had decided to wear (because he deserved that much), a denim jacket bound around her hips in case it’d get cold because she still didn’t know where the heck he’d be taking her and those dark brown, knee-high leather boots so that she wouldn’t be having any trouble with being a lot shorter than him and kiss him more easily-

Oh, but her mind didn’t just stop there, no. She wanted to do so much more than that.

She wanted to fucking destroy him in bed which was weird since he had been suggesting to do the same thing to her pussy ever since the day they met.

And she’d probably not even keep up with her expectations and his because it had been so fucking long. She wanted to cry.

Because she wanted him so fucking much.

Even though she was still just the tiniest bit wary of him, or more clearly, his intentions, she couldn’t believe how intense her lust for him already was.

The reason she had been able to read him like a book was because he had always been a very open one.

Told her unashamedly how much he was into her so there shouldn’t be any fears technically, but that still didn’t keep her anxiety from making her insecure, biting her lips nervously as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She hadn’t overdone it with her makeup, she wouldn’t want to seem desperate or like she gave that much of a shit or that she actually took longer to get ready than she actually did…

Nothing about that really made any sense in her head, but anyways…

There’d be thirty more minutes of waiting before she could walk out into the world and into Lance Tucker’s arms.

Fuck, she wanted to touch those arms again.

Calm your tits, Lucia.

The voice in her head chimed in and strangely it wasn’t her own. Neither was the smug grin she could see in front of her closed eyelids as she took a deep, calming breath.

Before the loud hum of a vehicle’s motor came to a halt in front of their house and pulled her out of her thoughts.

She walked over to the kitchen to spy through the window, seeing the black car from a few nights before standing across the street.

It was dark outside, but not dark enough to hide his silhouette through the windows of his car. Him, smoothing his hair back nervously and thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

She giggled when she saw him acting all nervous and it made her believe that it’d somehow make this whole thing easier when she wasn’t the only one fidgeting.

She decided to do a little something to mess with him, ease the tension because she wouldn’t get into the car until it had escaped at least a little.

She dialed his number into her phone. She’s had it for quite a while. Emergency purposes, considering Ana of cause.

The phone rang and she saw him reach for it from his back pocket, staring at the screen for a few seconds until he picked up.

���Hey” His voice was strangely collected, but she smiled through it anyway because she saw his reaction when he heard her voice; grinning silently into the receiver.

“Hi, Lance.”

“You miss me already, darlin’?” He tried to be so cocky and she found it adorable, knowing how excited he sounded as he was talking to her.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She retorted, biting her bottom lip to suppress another giggle “Since you’re parking in front of my house.” She saw his mouth fall open before his head whipped over to the side, searching for her until he spotted her looking at him through the kitchen window, waving at him while his cheeks grew hot.

“Fuck” He whispered and hung up, seeing her laugh and walk away so he got out of the car, straightening the white dress shirt before he crossed the street to get over to her house.

The door opened slowly.

“’M sorry, I thought you wouldn’t notice-” He began before he saw her standing in front of him in her full glory. He stopped halfway to reaching her door and held his breath as he let his gaze wander over her form, drinking it all in.

She looked so fucking stunning. The hair, the dress, the heels…

His dick twitched in those dangerously tight pants.

“I- You…” He started before she cut him off.

“You look handsome.” She smiled as she eyed him as well.

“You do. I mean, you don’t look handsome, you- you’re hot. I mean-” He stammered.

Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?

She walked closer until she closed the space between them to press a kiss to his cheek, halting his actions like she’d just pressed the shut-down-button.

She pulled away with the cutest grin, keeping her hand on the side of his neck and he hoped to god she wouldn’t feel his pulse fluttering underneath her touch.

“Let’s go?” She asked sweetly while all he could do was nod.

.

.

.

“What’re we doing here?” She asked, raising a brow as she looked out the window, eyeing the gym hall from outside.

“I forgot something earlier.” Was his only explanation as he got out of the car, getting around to open the door for her and she could almost swear that he didn’t even have to think about doing so before he’d already done it.

The word ‘Gentleman’ laid on the tip of her tongue before she thought of who she was actually with, smirking at the thought.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, getting out while she walked alongside him.

The gears in her head turned when he saw him fiddling with the keys in his hands, seemingly on edge.

Her grin only widened.

“And why exactly do you need me to come with you…?” She bugged and made him roll his eyes at her for the very first time. He knew he wasn’t kidding anyone, but admittedly, he had never done this sort of thing before.

Something with a moderate amount of thought behind it.

“Just… trust me with this, okay?” He chuckled before pushing the doors open, both of them walking through the office until he had found the light switch in the dark, illuminating part of the hall to reveal a table standing in the middle of the room’s space with two chairs pushed to each side of it and food waiting for… the two of them she realized.

She bit her lip as she turned around, facing his boyish grin when he looked down at her. He seemed so proud of it, she couldn’t hold in her giggle.

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to say right now. This is awesome.” She admitted as she walked into the gym, her heels echoing off the high walls and ceiling.

“Right?” He asked excitedly “I fuckin’ aced this.” He drawled and she shook her head.

“Don’t ruin the mood.” She muttered until he sneaked up behind her, pulling out the chair for her to sit on.

“And which one would that be?”

“One where you just take the freaking compliment and don’t act like you’ve invented date ideas.” She raised a challenging brow at him while he sat down across from her.

“Okay, ouch.” He pouted “How ‘bout you fix your attitude, princess?”

She inhaled a sharp breath at the sound of his pet name for her slipping past his lips.

He grinned. She glared back at him.

“How ‘bout you do it for me?”

The risky question had shot out of her before she had even had time to think about it, making her eyes go wide with realization a second later.

He looked equally stunned before he let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Deal, sweetcheeks.” He chuckled darkly, winking at her as he opened two beer bottles.

“But for that you’re gonna have to take me out for a drink first.” He said sarcastically, raising his own bottle.

She scoffed and clinked their glasses together.

“Oh, so this is what then exactly?” She retorted, raising the bottleneck to her smiling lips.

He leaned back in his chair, the cockiness never having left him.

“This is me enjoying the view, darlin’.” He replied before taking a few big gulps, his head leaning back slightly, still maintaining eye contact as he grinned.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, you know that?” And the second she realized it could also have a very different meaning, seeing him inhaling to comment on what she’d just said she blurted out “Don’t even, Tucker. I swear to god- “

To which he only suppressed a laugh and shook his head in embarrassment as if to correct himself or rather his naughty thoughts being the first ones to fill his head.

“Realized it the second you said it.” He chuckled, making a motion as if to zip his mouth shut.

“Seriously, don’t mess this up.” She began, fidgeting in her seat as she was desperately trying to get the rest of the words out.

“I’m really glad I’m here.” She admitted, biting the inside of her cheek as she awaited his reaction and his cocky smirk changed into something softer- something she had only ever seen a few, rare times since she’s met him. Only ever when he was with her.

“Me too.” He smiled brightly and it made her loosen up, smiling back and moving her hair behind her ears.

“So…” She started “What’s on the menu?”

He laughed.

“Only the best pizza in town.” He chuckled, opening the cardboard box to reveal the pepperoni pizza that was laying in front of them.

“Classic. Beer and pizza.” She chuckled.

“If it’s not from Stefano’s I’m going to be very disappointed.” She sighed, smelling the still-warm food.

He scrunched his face up as he looked back at her.

“Girl… the best one’s from that pizzeria down the street.” He stated, making her scoff.

“And I thought you could be trusted when it came to food.” She gasped.

“I’ll make you a deal” He smirked “You don’t like it, we go straight to Stefano’s right the fuck now.” He raised a challenging eyebrow at her.

“Fine” She pursed her lips before taking a slice and taking a bite, chewing for a moment before shrugging.

“Meh.”

Lance almost jumped out of his chair outraged, hand gesturing wildly.

“Wh- What’s that ‘meh’? Do you not have any taste buds, woman?” He protested, making her grin as she continued eating. Making him the one lashing out once in a while was fun. She did that while chewing on the piece.

He only realized she was still eating when he was halfway through his clamoring. His mouth fell shut.

“You like it?” He asked, perhaps a little annoyed.

She nodded “It’s good.” She giggled with a full mouth, making him huff.

“But not as good as Stefano’s.” She shrugged after having taken another bite, making him let out a chuckle.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He muttered as he took a bite out of a slice.

She smiled as she looked at him and perhaps it was a little bit of everything;

The dinner itself in the gym where they first met, the fact that he’d brought pizza and beer instead of steak and wine, the way he looked in that white shirt and how they could joke around and tease each other without making it awkward…

But in that moment she realized that she really liked Lance Tucker.

And that realization didn’t make her shudder like it would’ve a month ago. No.

It rather filled her stomach with an indescribable warmth.

“Hey, uhm…” She began, the two of them already having finished two slices each as she wiped her fingers on the napkin lying next to her.

“I just wanna say that-” She started but as soon as she’d begun to make her confession, he’d shushed her, looking somewhere behind her with eyes wide open and terrified.

“What?” She stopped, turning her head to look over her shoulder.

The light in the room behind the back entrance had switched on, yet she couldn’t see anyone there, assuming that maybe it had been on the entire time.

“Lance?” She turned back to him in confusion, but before she could say anything else he had stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her from her chair in surprise and walking them both across the gym.

“Hey!” She whined as they stopped in front of the storage room, fiddling with his keys.

“I’m not proud to say this” He began, pushing the door open before pushing her inside, following her into the darkness.

“But we gotta hide.”

“What?” She hissed loudly, the door clicking shut and her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the little light that shone in through the small window, fresh air pouring into the room along with the brightness from the street lantern, illuminating them just enough to keep them from bumping into the utensils, ladders and shelves.

“I’m so sorry, god-” He muttered, taking her hand into his and stepping between two shelves which sheltered them and prevented anyone who entered the room from seeing the two of them.

“It’s security outside, but the new guy who doesn’t know me and would think we’re here illegally and call the cops on us, it’s- “

He huffed, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re kinda…” He mumbled, looking around the small space “Not allowed to be here right now?” He tried an awkward smile but even in the almost complete darkness he could see that she wasn’t amused, rather shocked and speechless.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She sighed, holding a hand against her forehead as she closed her eyes in annoyance.

“I wish I were.” He said before a small laugh burst out of him.

“Don’t fucking lie to me Tucker, I swear if-” She started, just as confused as she was frustrated but she couldn’t let out any more of her anger on him before he had pressed a hand against her mouth to shut her up, moving her back against the shelf as his eyes were trained on the door and the light that was pouring in from underneath it, seeing the shadow of the security guys’ feet moving closer until he had stopped right in front of it.

Lucy’s breath came quick and hotly against his hand, staring up at him with big eyes as his gaze was so focused, brows knitting together while his shoulders tensed up.

She barely noticed the sound of the man rattling the door handle from outside to prove that it was truly locked, the pulse of her core thrumming through her entire body, deafening any potential noise that could distract her from looking away from his gorgeous face.

God, he was so fucking hot. And he cared. For her not to get caught, turning his broad back instinctively to shield her from anyone who might waltz through the door and ruin the scenery she was already making out inside her head.

He cared for his little sister. She had never witnessed any man as concerned for her as he had been that night a few days back, clutching the steering wheel as he had raced through the city, risking to lose his license and sanity to get Ana to the hospital and make her feel well again. Even brought her flowers.

Those damn flowers.

She regretted not having put them up in her own room from the beginning, enjoying their smell and let them take her back to better times back when she lived outside the city without all its smog and garbage.

Fuck, she wanted him.

She wanted him so bad.

“I think he’s gone-” He whispered, his gaze softening before he looked down at her, seeing her already dark eyes glinting somehow mischievously, but not smugly like she was about to throw a snarky comment at his head- more like desperately because there was so much lust pooling behind those eyes the sight of it made him forget what he was about to say, looking at her with such wonder and also puzzlement he couldn’t think of anything else but her.

“I, uhm…” He breathed, voice faltering and only then did he realize how closely they were actually pressed together. Against each other.

His hands were resting to each side of her head, having shielded her body with his own somewhat automatically and if he hadn’t lost his ability to speak before, he surely did as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet his lips with hers.

His eyes shot wide open, seeing the slight furrow in her brow as she kissed him deeply, her hands holding the sides of his neck while he could only stand there like an imbecile, his brain not quite yet registering and catching up with the information of what the fuck had just happened- was still happening.

But once her hand went into his hair, tangling her fingers through the gel-stiffened strands to make it softer and easier to hold onto, his eyes fell close in an instant, stiff body loosening and sinking into her embrace as his arms immediately wound around her to pull her even closer. There was no way he was gonna fuck something up he’d been waiting to do since the minute he first saw her.

A small moan left her lips when his palm pressed into the small of her back urgently, driving her closer to him and making her arch her back as she opened her mouth for him- his tongue already having slid across her bottom lip to grant him access and so she did with just as much fervor.

Of cause he was battling for dominance, how could he not, but she had no desire to deny him that when he was just so- so- good at it.

You wouldn’t regret a night with me, babe.

His words had floated in her head ever since he’d said them out loud and in that moment, with his hands feeling over the fabric of her dress, moving lower to grab a handful of her ass and making him groan at the feel of it, she suddenly couldn’t wait to make those words come true fast enough.

She jumped up when his hands held onto the backs of her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist and feeling her calves against his ass which was driving itself forward to rub his denim-clad erection against her dripping core.

His hands just couldn’t stop exploring.

Feeling the swell of her hips and ass underneath his touch was fucking amazing.

But what made his cock really twitch in his pants was running his fingers along her neck, grazing the pulse point to make her inhale a sharp breath before he’d bury them in her hair to tilt her head back and attack her throat with sucks and bites, nibbling and kissing until he’d reached her collarbone, already having her writhing and gasping in his arms.

“Lance…” She moaned and his pelvis involuntarily thrust forward at hearing his name fall from her plump lips so beautifully, his clothed cock rubbing against the thin layer of her panties which were separating him from driving himself inside her.

Her back was bumping into parts of the shelves’ metal behind her, making them rattle and shake until packages were raining down on them, landing on the ground with a dull sound.

Lucy pulled back long enough to break their kiss and gasp for air, making him listen to her as he was trying to catch his breath.

“You wanna… uhm-” He started, stealing her words. She grinned happily before she simply had to interrupt him.

“Your place or mine?”

*

*

*

Taglist: @culturespark

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Simple and Sweet

Simple and Sweet - Kidge Month Day 10 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Just some shameless, cute domestic nonsense because I am weak for post-war happy, domestic Kidge. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Some days Katie “Pidge” Kogane swore that the universe was out to get her.

Work had been absolutely insane all week. Between full audits being done on each and every department and a grand total of seventeen people up and walking out, the superiors had been up in arms about every little thing. Admiral Walker, who oversaw her department, had been on the warpath all week about everything becoming the textbook example of what the auditors would be expecting. Walker had been so strict and critical, that even Matt had been on the verge of a breakdown. She’d had to stay late and come in early, putting in ridiculous amounts of time getting things so painfully organized she felt sick.

Pidge liked order and being able to easily locate things, but the expectations the Garrison had were just ridiculous.

When she walked in the door, she’d been greeted by the smell of bacon. Kaden and Newt darted over to greet her, with Kaden taking her work laptop and Newt pulling on her hand. At the stove top, Keith had pulled out the little stool and was having Amber help him, gently guiding her through flipping the bacon over. There was also a bowl with what she knew were blueberries settled beside another, slightly larger bowl. Ari squealed in her high chair when she saw her, pounding her little hands on her tray.

They ended up having blueberry pancakes for dinner, which stirred a little flutter in her heart. She’d had to leave so early the last few days she wasn’t able to have dinner with him and the kids like usual and she recalled lamenting that to him while she tried to keep from nodding off at her computer. After dinner, Keith had been adamant about taking care of the dinner dishes, with the kids helping out. Amber organized what went in the dishwasher, while the boys dried what had to be hand-washed. After that, he coerced her into soaking in the tub, which helped her destress.

When she got out, hair tied up in a towel and bundled up in her favorite robe, he already had all four kids in their pajamas and was reading for them. She peered in around the doorway to the living room, where they were all gathered. Keith was sitting on the couch, holding a book up with one hand. Amber was sitting with her legs crossed, holding a bouncing Aria in her arms. Kaden was splayed out on his belly, holding his head up with his hands and grinning. Newt, meanwhile, was spread out on his back like a dead body, tilting his head back to stare at the book as well.

"Would you like them in a house? Would you like them with a mouse?" Keith read, lifting the volume and tenor of his voice to something more upbeat. She smiled fondly. He always got so into reading them their nightly stories. "I do not like them in a house! I do not like them with a mouse! I do not like them here or there! I do not like them anywhere! I do not like green eggs and ham! I do not like them, Sam-I-Am!" He continued on, dropping his tenor and making his voice more gruff, sounding sulky.

She crept back to their bedroom to get dressed proper and work through some tangles in her hair. She could hear the kids squealing eagerly as she did.

She remembered back when she ad Keith first found out they were expecting Amber, with how excited he’d been. A family was all he had ever wanted, for as long as he could remember. There had been times, however, where he admitted to being unsure. He didn’t have a large, loving and involved family like Pidge did. He had their friends, of course, but in regards to actual blood relatives? The only one he had left was his mother, who hadn’t been involved with him when he was a child. She had reassured him that as long as he approached raising their child with love, everything would be just fine.

And, as she had predicted, she was right. Keith was an incredibly thoughtful and loving father. She felt so lucky to be with a partner who loved she and their kids so much.

After she was done, she headed back downstairs to find that Keith and the kids were gone. It was her turn to put the kids to bed, so she had figured that he’d just have them sit out with him until she was done. She heard quiet footsteps upstairs, coming from Kaden’s room, if she reasoned a guess. She headed into the kitchen, deciding to start a little something to repay him for everything he had done for her.

She perked up and smiled when a pair of arms wrap around her waist. "Hey," She said, tilting her head to press a kiss to his temple. "You got the kiddos in bed for me."

"Mmhmm," He hummed, closing his eyes and nuzzling her gently.

She indicated the pot she was leisurely whisking. "I made some fresh hot chocolate for the two of us,"

He cracked one eye and flashed her a small smile. "You're a Godsend,"

"You're the real hero of the day," She laughed, carefully turning around so she could kiss him proper. "How did I get lucky to have such a wonderful husband?"

"Penance from the universe for all the bull you had to deal with when you were younger?"

"Best karmic returns ever!" She sang happily. He laughed and pressed a quick smooch to her cheeks, rewarding him with another giggle from her. "Thanks again for putting them to bed. I know it was supposed to be my turn but apparently Admiral Walker doesn't understand just how much math goes into the programming of a particle barrier device or that having to alphabetize the schematics for such a device is incredibly detrimental to the building of it."

"Sounds about right for a Garrison official," He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Watch yourself now, pal. You're married to a Garrison official,"

His grin shifted, becoming more of a smirk, and a mischievous glint came to his eyes. "Garrison official on the streets, Paladin of Voltron in t-!"

"Oh, my God! You've been hanging out with Lance again, haven't you?" She cackled, shifting to give the cocoa a quick stir. She then turned the burner off and moved the pot aside to cool a bit before she served.

"I only have, like, five friends! What do you expect?" He teased, leaning over to pepper kisses along her jawline.

"I expect you to mind your manners," She murmured back.

"And if I refuse?" He goaded lightly.

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a small voice behind Keith calling out, "Mommy? Daddy?"

She jumped and let out a little yelp, peering around his shoulder at the tot standing a few feet away. His head was cocked to the side curiously, blinking slowly. "Newt! You're supposed to be in bed!" She squeaked out.

He scowled a little bit. "But I'm dehydrated! I need a little drink," He said, moving the scowl into more of a pout.

Keith chuckled, detangling himself from Pidge and heading towards the cabinet where they kept the kid’s cups at. "Okay, buddy. I'll come get you a little cup of water and then tuck you back in," He said evenly.

"Mmhmm! Thank you, Daddy!" Newt said happily, following Keith to the fridge.

Pidge herself chuckled, pulling out two mugs and pouring the drinks for herself and Keith.

[shushy101]

If you're accepting prompts, genderbent Plance w/body paint. Do with that what you will

;))))

yes [ quick note , tried to make lances name fit with spanish names because well , hes spanish , but i failed miserably because all the websites i went to were so incredibly hard to use . same for pidge nsjfjehfhr . and for the sake of lance ill genderbend allura too , so it doesnt complicate shit more ]

strongish language because they would . or maybe not . stuff gets kinda frisky friskers tho . just like two lines . nothing too hardcore .

dia de muertos - the day of the dead ! aka , our beloved lancita's favourite time of the year . she has multiple , but we shall forget about that for the sake of this story !

" so , basically , we paint calveras - i mean skulls on our faces . " lancita said firmly . she pulled out a palette of presumably , body paint , out of literally nowhere . she pushed a container that was already on her sink towards pidge that had brushes of all kinds . . " so you mean ... you don't know how to translate shit to english ? " pidge snickered , slapping on as much white pigment as he could , because that was what lance was doing . " no , i just didn't remember the english word because i'm a spanish idiot kid , give me a pass , katien . " she had a proud look on her face , smugly smiling as she picked up more pigment from the palette . " fuck you for use my legit name , garden hoe butt . before you comment on my censoring , i don't want shiro walking in and scolding my dumb butt . " lancita just snorted and continued to look into her bathroom mirror and paint on colours with a thick , fluffy brush .

" so you paint the white first because the majority is white , " the tan female explained . " i knew that , doesn't take much effort to think , not like you'd know , " pidge half-jokingly said , which his compainion picked up at lightning speed . she punched pidge lightly , smiling widely . " i hate you for a good reason , " she laughed , fixing up pidge's face because it was splotchy everywhere . " this seems more like a act of love than hate , " pidge smiled , blushing just a teensy bit .

lancita , however , was very clearly flushed . through the layer of white , pidge could see a thin veil of pink . he noted how cute her ears and neck blushed bright against her tan , sun-kissed skin that was somehow still as tan as ever even in space . he despairingly noticed that she didn't brush his cheeks with her thumbs out of affection when he said that sweet thought , because of the white that could smear onto lancita's skin . that did not spark joy . but it was nice while lancita's hand cupped his ear and pushed her hand into his dense , slightly curled hair .

" there , fixed you up . try not to be so heavy handed , this isn't a game for pushing buttons on killbot phantom , " lancita joked , trying to not acknowledge her blush that heated her up . " such sugarcoated words , " pidge said dryly , who then gave up on white and switched to black . lancita smiled , and any sliver of annoyance and anger was lifted off pidge immediately . whoever could be angry at those beautiful , crystal blue eyes ? it was like ocean blue , but not as blue , but not as light as light blue . it was somewhere in between .

" earth to kat-face ? " lancita laughed , pidge quickly snapping back to painting his face , nervously rubbing his legs together , a big fat rosy blush overtaking his senses . lancita just smiled , with her nice perfectly white teeth showing and absolutely stunning eyes glowing . which was horrible in pidge's perspective because he was desperately hoping his peripheral vision was on his side , but not today sisters ! he cussed under his breath gently , wishing that one day he would wake up next to her and lancita would not open her eyes to greet him for the sake of his confused self . they were friends , explicitly friends , just friends , no benefits .

lancita pressed on the black pigment on her eyelids , humming under her breath a random tune that she thought pidge would like to hear . it just made the sides of her already slightly tilted up lips tilt even higher . she was just happy that she knew pidge liekd hearing her voice , just as much as she liked hearing him . he was so good at coaxing her back to sleep with his pretty lilting voice when she had nightmares , pressing his face into the crook of her neck to try and make her relax . and he made her feel so incredibly soft and secure when he hugged her . sure , pidge was not much taller than her , but it was nice .

she dully noticed pidge's nervousness , since she was so intent on finishing up her look to checl on the sugar skulls chilling in the freezer . he was shifting in his seat , legs pressed together . a little flaring thought said to her that she was the one who caused this , perhaps he liked her , but lancita quickly pushed it away as hormones overreacting .

" hey , lancey-lance , is this okay ? " pidge looked at her , trying to comprehend if it was the right way to draw the borders or not . besides , he wanted her to paint on his face again . lancita sighed happily , feeling good that pidge asked her for help . she turned to see a pretty good job , and told him she would fix up his little mistakes . and just to try and insinuate something , she added , " perhaps you do make a rather charming companion after all . " yes , she wanted to sweet-talk her way into his heart because goddamnit , she was straight up thirsty .

this , firstly , earned her a gentle pushing back of her long , brown hair and a soft tinkling laugh . he also had put down his paintbrush and took her decorative comb that pinned back her hair and repinned it into a bun , gently running his fingers and untangling some hair . " your hair always smells so very nice , " which pidge did not mean to say that out that loud . lancita just took his other hand that was placed back on the table and squished it a bit harder than she should've . pidge just wrapped his arm around her , the other one going around the front of her curvy waist . he leaned on her head and hated that he was feeling real fucking hot and burning everywhere . he was pretty sure lancita was too , judging by her blushing down her neck and ears so much she tensed up under him .

lancita fought the urge to just pull him closer , just to feel him and know he's alive , that he'll talk to her and tidy up her hair and play videogames and everything else in between . perhaps she was irrationally swayed and attached and most definitely too sentimental about him . besides , she could just ask in a long-winded way on how to deal with it to him and let him assume it was alluran . she faked the whole " i like alluran " thing as a decoy after she realized pidge was honestly way cuter and so , so much hotter than he was . it went from zero to one hundred real quick .

she tried her best to not rush it , but ended up doing so anyway and slapped on some red , matte lipstick so people would not turn their attention the trash edges at the bottom . lancita turned her attention and body to face him so she could fix up any of his mistakes , a tad bit roughly cupping his face that was so close she could nearly just kiss him . she did her thing , trying not to get distracted by his wonderful hair that cupped his face so perfectly . his brown eyes that were tinted with amber and honey , and how nice the light reflected off it .

pidge tried to discreetly pull her closer so he could kiss her because he would like to be covered in red all of a sudden . lancita did not seem to notice and started to put her brushes away , and started keeping everything at a rapid fire pace . so pidge took this chance to fluff up his hair in a somewhat neat way and lean closer to her cheek . " hey question , do i ever get lipstick ? because i do like the colour of your lips . "

he tried desperately to be smooth to get that red colour on his lips from hers , and lancita being the absolute nerd for romance immediately took it as a note that he wanted to get in her pants , or more correctly , pajamas and eat her whole .

so she , out of impulse , decided to get frisky and pushed her hand up his shirt . she took that it was a good move since he had , in retailation , pressed his lips messily against hers and the hand around her waist went downwards .

shiro was questioning why it took pidge and lance that long to finish up their body paint . he quizzically touched the chilling sugar skull in the freezer , astonished that it did not fall apart at his touch , tapped the sugar skull again and it promptly fell apart . " uh . well . oh dear . " shiro stared , blinked twice , and called for hunk , who called for keith , who called for alluran , and they decided to go to lancita for advice on what to do now .

thhey were greeted by smeared body paint and lots of red , which shiro then took to the birds and the bees .

Edit : to clarify about the whole complication of allura and lance thing i personally thin kthat lance isnt bi , so genderbent lance isnt bi

Another thing is my crappy writing style please kill it

[amicuscordis]

At Least You Don’t Want To Kill Me

Read it on ao3!

Fighting the elusive Green is a pain in the ass, but at least Lance gets to crash with his awesome roommate Pidge afterwards. After a nasty battle with the Blue Paladin, Pidge faces the idea that maybe there is no one who cares if she makes it home at the end of the night.

Rated T for some violence and swearing

Tags: Alternate Universe, that one au where one's a hero and one's a 'villain' but as civilians they're oblivious roommates, Injury, Blood, but not much

Check out the amazing art for this fic by the talented Shii here!

Thanks to Oxto for betaing for me, and @planceminibang​ for letting me participate! This first part focuses on Lance’s side of the story. Pidge’s will be coming soon.

At Least You Don’t Want To Kill Me, Chapter 1

Before the car had completely stopped, Lance was stumbling out of it, teetering on cigarette butts and plastic bottles that lined the drains. Shiro reached from the backseat and out the passenger door, catching Lance’s arm before he could completely fall. “You good, Lance?”

Lance yanked his arm away from Shiro, nearly falling over again in the process, and slammed the door shut. Hunk, watching from behind the wheel, was already rolling down the window. “I’m offended, honestly,” Lance announced, gesticulating with his longs arms as he paced in a small circle. “He’s never tased me hard enough to knock me out before. Whatever happened to that good ol’ nemesis bond?”

“It means he felt threatened,” Shiro said, pulling his arm back into the car. He was not supposed to even be in the car, much less the city, but when Hunk had set out to take Lance home, Shiro had reasoned that in a vehicle in the dark, who could identify the missing Kerberos pilot? “You and Keith will get him next time.”

Or the kid would just find a new way to outthink them again. Lance shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugged. Shiro and Hunk shared a look. For a terrifying three seconds, Lance thought Hunk might be about to try to argue to come inside with him, as if Lance’s getting pissed off at an alien-aided villain was reason to mark him an invalid. That spoiled the spirit of hanging out, though, and made the usually social Lance just want to be alone.

Well, not entirely alone, but she was a special case.

Whatever concerns Hunk had, he decided to let it go. Stuck to the car, Shiro had no choice but to follow. Hunk hunched over so he could give Lance a solid look out the window. “Call me before executing any stupid ideas, okay?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Hunk kept his stare on Lance, as if to reaffirm that he meant it, then rolled up the window and pulled away from the curb. Lance waited until they turned out of the parking lot onto the main road, taking the time to kick one of the plastic bottles at his feet. It ricocheted off the curb into his shin. He flipped it off.

No lights came through the window of the second-floor apartment. He fumbled with the keys, brain not entirely computing which way to put it into the lock. Damn headache. He rubbed at his forehead as at last the lock turned, the door opened, and he could limp inside. “Pidge, I’m home!”

Not that he expected a response, considering the off lights, but it still squeezed at his chest. He had to come home licking his wounds and his roommate was not even there to make fun of him and then bandage him up.

He trudged into the bathroom, wincing at the fluorescent lights when he flipped the switch. “Stupid Green, stupid Keith. . .”

Keeping jacket and shirt intact, he shirked his shoes and jeans and beheld himself in the mirror. Right below his boxers was the bandage, a white square to cover the cut and surrounding burn left behind by Green. Shiro had not been wrong about Green feeling threatened. For weeks, Lance had been the only one sent to capture him, but with that obvious failure, and Green progressively gathering more and more information on the Kerberos mission and who knew what else with each venture into the Garrison, Allura had finally sent Keith to join him. The tag teaming had almost worked: Lance had got a nice shot in the shoulder of Green’s armor, and then Keith had got him with the hilt of his sword, right at the rib cage on his left side. So damn close, if Green hadn’t managed to tase Keith, and then tase Lance while he freaked out over Keith going down. “Stupid, stupid. . .”

He wanted to take the bandage off. Mostly to see the burn and shallow cut for himself, since Coran had patched him up still unconscious. There was also maybe a small part that wanted Pidge to help him bandage it up again when she got home. But who could guess when that would be? He was too tired to do it again himself. Tired and headachey and maybe a little sulky. He kicked his jeans into the corner of the bathroom, slapped the light switch down, and trudged out into the kitchen.

In the fridge, he dug around for some leftovers that were semi-edible. He couldn’t remember whose turn it was to buy groceries and whose it was to clean old food out of the fridge but they both had been slacking. Maybe he would ask Pidge if they should just do it all together tomorrow, because gods that sounded better than going back to the hidden Castle of Lions to hear Allura go on about how Green must be gathering intel for the Galra, because the technology Green used was far too advanced for Earth, what was the point of any of their defensive prep if the Galra already knew how to wipe out the Garrison when they would first invade, you must do better to stop him, Lance! At least now Keith would get to look as sour as Lance always felt.

Leftover alfredo it was. Except he was too damn tired to warm it—the microwave clock warned it was past two in the morning, and being knocked out didn’t count as sleep—so he took a fork and fell onto the couch to eat it cold.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, mistake—” Lance wiped his tongue on his sleeve as he tossed the alfredo onto the coffee table and took the remote instead. Who really needed food, anyway? When he turned on the TV, it was set for the next episode of Legendary Defender from where he and Pidge had left off the night before. He clicked around for something light—Garfle Warfle Snick, why not—and as it started to play, blindly reached around the couch until he found a throw blanket and pulled it up around his shoulders, the tip of it brushing his nose. It smelled just a little more like Pidge than the rest of the apartment did. He looked to the door.

By the end of the episode, she still had not come in. Another episode, still no Pidge. Which was fine. Her whereabouts at late hours were far from the only secret about her. He had quite a few questions—Where do you actually work? Who’s the Matt you looked startled you mentioned that one time? Do we have to go to our rooms tonight or can we camp on the couch together?—but they operated under a no questions policy. He didn’t ask about her private life, he didn’t have to tell about how he’s actually working with two aliens from some planet called Altea to prepare Earth’s defenses for an invasion that’s due in some eight months.

The blanket still around his shoulders, he stumbled to his room, patting at his pockets for his phone. It had been at twelve percent when he armored up to take on Green. He had not touched it once since then but he would not be surprised if it were already dead.

When he plugged it into the charger next to his bed, he found staring at him a clock reading 3:24—and several notifications from Pidge.

[1:36] Missed Call

[1:41] Can you come get me?

[1:53] Lance please respond

“Shit!” He pressed the call, set the phone to his ear, and pulled the charger’s cord to its limit as he stretched for pants and another pair of shoes. She answered on the third ring. “Shit, Pidge, are you injured?” She had always had her own scrapes when she came home at night, but again, don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t mention that you kind of adore getting to help her bandage up, but god if she was really hurt this time—

“I’m at the parking garage on Olkarion Avenue.”

Lance held the phone between his ear and shoulder to tie his sneakers. Two blocks from the apartment. She didn’t have a vehicle, always using public transportation, that Lance knew of. What the hell was she doing there? Was she mugged? Don’t ask, don’t tell. “I’m coming. My phone’s at—” He freed a hand to look at it. “—two percent. It died and I just got it to a charger, I’m so sorry. I have to leave it, be watching for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He couldn’t hang up. Fortunately, she did, and then with only his keys he ran out the door and down the stairs. His thigh began to burn all over again, irritated at the movement, but still he sprinted all the way to Olkarion Avenue. When he slowed to look for her, the world was spinning, and he had to hold onto the ticket dispenser for the garage to keep from toppling. He would have missed her, tucked away in the shadows between the cement wall and a trashcan just beyond the exit, if she had not called his name.

When her hand dipped into the light to grab at the rim of the trashcan, he saw the muscles in her arm strain as she failed to pull herself up. In another moment, he was at her side, dipping his shoulder under hers to pull her up. But as their sides pressed into each other, she yelped and lurched away from him, slamming her right shoulder into the wall of the garage. Her shout echoed in the vast parking lot as she grabbed at the shoulder, curling back into herself on the ground.

Helpless, Lance spared a glance around the garage, to assure no one was around, then knelt in front of her. “How can I help? What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

She was back in the shadows, but he could still see, could still feel, her grimace. “I may have had to pop it back into place.”

“What—” Don’t ask, don’t tell. “—the hell. Do you need a doctor?”

“No,” she stated, too firmly. “Let’s just go home.”

Pidge still could not stand on her own, but holding her up without some pressure on one of the pained areas was near impossible. It was concentrated in two places: her right shoulder, and her left side around her ribcage. Her legs were sore but fine, so after he pulled her to her feet she could walk with just holding on to him for support, seething at any disturbance to the wounds. As they stepped into the light, Lance saw her green shirt sticking to the hurt on her side by spots of blood.

The stairs were the hardest; she was rasping curses by the time they made it to their door. Pidge was the one who shut and locked it behind them, an action Lance had forgotten in lieu of trying to get her to the bathroom. He felt his mouth going dry. Sure, it was only two blocks to walk, but she could have called an Uber or something, but she had stayed hidden from public transportation, and now she was locking the door, as if someone was following her, and—

With him spaced, she tried to walk to the bathroom alone, though winced and nearly fell. Lance caught her arm, let her hold onto him as they crossed the apartment. He seated her on the covered toilet, then pulled out the first-aid kit. His face burned as he remembered wanting her to come home and patch him up earlier, like blood and bandages were just a mode of his one-sided flirtation.

By the time he set the kit on the corner of the counter, she had pulled her shirt up to show the wound on her side. The bruise covered a large circle, from the bottom of her ribcage up to her sports bra. The cut itself was small, and not nearly so bad as the blood on her shirt had made it seem. Not deep, just a shallow scrape that ripped off some of the skin.

Lance was no expert in injuries. A few months ago, he had been even worse. But three months of being a paladin, he had learned what an impact against armor looked like. He swallowed thickly. “Okay. Okay. Does it hurt to breathe?”

“Kind of.”

Her shaky breaths that she did not let get too deep meant that it was probably more than kind of. She was gripping the toilet paper roll, distorting it in her hand like a stress ball.

Lance looked across her ribs, where he was becoming more and more confident something had smashed against a chest plate. And he hated that he might know what it was and loved that he was not allowed to ask. “Doesn’t look broken or warped. May I?”

When she nodded, he ghosted his fingers across ridged skin. She held her breath the entire time, grimacing only when his fingers trailed over the sticky cut. “Doesn’t feel broken either. Not that I’m an expert, it just, seems like a normal ribcage. Probably just bruised. I can’t wrap it, but we’ll get it cleaned up, okay?”

She squeezed the toilet paper tighter, but nodded. “Yeah, sure, fine.”

Though Pidge grimaced as the antiseptic dotted over the cut, she didn’t make a sound. Sure, she had much worse pains to focus on, but in her silent pain Lance only saw Green’s body stopped mid-motion by Lance’s shot, jerking and collapsing silently as if already blacked out from shock or pain, and Keith hadn’t even smashed their rib cage with his sword yet. As he pressed the bandage over the cut, lightly pressing the sticky part down on her bruises, his eyes went to her shoulder, to the edge of purple skin sticking out under her collar.

It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.

Of course it wasn’t. The injury to her side could easily be explained by running into a lamppost or something, same with her shoulder. Pidge maybe had issues with authority, and dabbled in conspiracy theories, but same for everyone else their age. She was a genius, but he had absolutely no reason to believe she would want to work with the Galra or break into the Garrison.

He had no reason to believe she wouldn’t want to do those things either. It struck him with nausea that he didn’t really know his roommate at all.

He put the bandage and antiseptic back in the kit, put his hand on the top, about to close it, but waited. “O-Okay.” He winced at his own stutter. “Can I look at your shoulder too?”

She was already pulling her shirt back down. “Skin didn’t break.”

“You dislocated it, Pidge.”

“I didn’t do anything.” A near confirmation that she earned this in a fight. God he wished she hadn’t said that. “I’ll lift my arms, you pull it off.”

He said he wanted to see her shoulder, but he didn’t actually want to, and hesitated to grab the hem of the tee when she lifted her arms. Her right arm could not get as high as the left. In her pain, she gave him a tense look to hurry the fuck up. He did, taking the hem, lifting her shirt but hesitating when the first of the bruise came into sight on her collar. His stomach flipped. He pulled it the rest of the way before Pidge could complain.

No puncture, just a round splotch of purple and blue and yellow on her shoulder and collar, all emanating from the precise spot he had been aiming.

“Christ, Pidge,” he breathed. “I’ll... I’ll get you one, a shirt, get you a shirt, without blood on it.”

He had not even examined it, a fact that made Pidge squint at him. “Okay… Can you get one that buttons in the front? I don’t want to try lifting my arms again, that hurt like hell.”

“Sure.” His voice sounded distant even to him. He swallowed down bile as he drifted from the bathroom, across the hall into his own room. He dropped the shirt on the floor. Folded himself at the foot of his bed. The world was wrong, like reality had shifted over three feet and nothing he touched was right anymore and his roommate wasn’t his roommate.

Not an hour ago he had been on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, but now the adrenaline had him shaking in a nervous high that he wasn’t sure he could ever come down from. Still twisted on the floor, he stretched his gangly arm to the bedside table. He managed to curl one finger around the cord and pulled the charging phone into his hand. Open the contacts. Find Keith. His finger hovered above the symbol of the little green phone.

Time was as unreal as the apartment they shared. He could never tell how much had passed when he heard her voice. “Lance? You okay?”

He locked the phone on Keith’s contact, yanked it off the charger, and shoved it into his pocket as he stood. “Yeah, one sec.” He stopped in the door of his room, remembered his mission, and returned to his closet. He grabbed the first buttoned shirt he could find, a blue and black plaid thing that was pretending to be flannel. By the time he made it back to the bathroom, the world had stabilized, and yet all had an almost fuzzy, numb aspect to it, and Pidge seemed too far away for him to actually give her the shirt as he passed it into her hand.

Wary of her shoulder, she put her arms in the sleeve, and then with only one hand buttoned the shirt. The process would be slow just from buttons’ known stubbornness versus one unaccustomed human hand, but crawled as she kept looking up to where he occupied the doorway, her expression growing in suspicion with each glance. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m no medic,” he said, the diversion smooth across unfeeling lips. “You’re probably going to lose an arm or something.”

“It hurt so bad at first I thought it got blown off.” She grinned, mischievous, as if her sincere statement were something hilarious. Lance didn’t laugh. “If it falls off, I can just make a prosthetic.” When even that failed to get a reaction, her lips twisted, sour at the defeat, and she kept her eyes down to finish buttoning the shirt. “Anyway, want to watch Legendary Defender?”

He offered her a hand and she took it. Once she was situated on the couch he fixed ice packs for her ribs and shoulders. Legendary Defender played. He missed all of it. Pidge took over an hour to nod off, kept awake by sharp pain whenever she began to breathe too deeply. The sky was already colored by the time he was sure she was asleep, her head tilted back into the couch cushions and mouth hung open. He whispered her name. With no response, he stood, walked into the kitchen, and propped himself on the counter. Keith’s contact was still up when he pulled out his phone.

“Hello?” The great Red Paladin’s voice was groggy and more than a little irritated. Normally, Lance expected, Keith would be up with the sun, but he was probably trying to sleep off the attack from the night before. Lance wasn’t sure if he should feel guilty or not about waking him.

“Hey, it’s… it’s about Green.”

Something crackled on the other side, sheets shifting as Keith sat up and the sleep left his voice. “You have a lead?”

“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for letting them get away.”

A pause, then Keith sighed, dispelling any heightened emotion he had in that breath to address Lance with a still voice. “It’s not your fault. The guy’s good at what he does. I’m honestly impressed you’ve been able to face him alone this far. We’ll get him next time.”

“Yeah.”

Keith hung up. Lance set the phone on the counter and watched the felon on the couch breathe as the first blue light fell across her face.

[alolanrain]

Ash was often cast out by his teachers during Elementary and Middle school for being “ to rowdy, loud, and disrupting the class as a whole “ and “ unable to keep up with the class learning pace “ when he had a severe case of ADHD, it wasn’t until being shown about the Pokemon School by Mallow did Ash really want to get back into learning.

But what Ash didn’t know was that Principal Oak had access to almost all his records, that means his school records and his trainer records.

 his school records if printed out was a good size stack because most of it was nasty comments his past teachers had about him and there was a good chunk that came from teachers that he never had. His trainer records quadruple in size, making the other stack look like a few flimsy sheets of paper to the monument that was the accomplishments that he had acquired over the past few years. 

Thankfully Principal Oak had taken his time going through both stacks, highlighting what he himself think are key details, and scanning it into two PDF’s and adding the video links also. adding it to an email he CC’d the teachers that cold hold one more student in their class at such a short moment. it was only five teachers, and Professor Kukui was one of them. 

“ Hello all, I would like to state that I am sincerely sorry for reaching you all so late into the night, but I've got a particular student wanting to join our school and you five are my only teachers that have a spot available. in these links are the students School records, notes, and comments from past teachers and their Trainer records - note that I had highlighted details that I myself had thought were important in both documents but feel free to send me any notice or concerns about said student and it would be much appreciated if you all talked about what classroom would be the right one for them so that we can reconvene tomorrow. Sincerely, Principal Oak. “ 

Kukui was working on other scientific paperwork when he got the email, he had a feeling that he already knew who the trainer was but nonetheless he opened the email and the two docs on separate tabs. immediately he was taken back at how many notes and teacher comments from the first document that were all underlined in yellow highlighter. 

“ Ash had somehow had bribe the visiting Lucario and Riolu from interacting with his other classmates, and when confronted about this had denied it until going into a crying fit and brought to the Principals office where we called his mother and viewed the tapes. “ 

the first comment had left something incredibly sour in Kukui’s chest that curled between his ribs, his mind supplied that Ash hadn’t gone into a tantrum but actually pushed to the point of crying by a teacher. the comment didn’t even say if Ash had actually bribed the Lucario and Riolus to him or not. 

scrolling down the pages some he stopped at another comments. 

“ Ash couldn’t sit still during assigned reading time and when faced openly about it he said that he ‘ couldn't consintrate on his book because it was hard for him ‘ he was promptly sent to the Principal’s office and would be retrieved once reading time was over. “ 

now Kukui could understand that sightly, if one of his students acted antsy then it would slowly spread about to the rest. But asking him openly in front fo everyone else in the classroom instead of pulling to him to the side? that was just a dick move right there. 

he scrolled down more until he got to the section of his last year of Middle School. 

“ Ash is incredibly lazy and doesn’t work during most of the class hours. he would approach my after school asking for help with last weeks homework, I asked if his mother helps him. he replied that she’s been busy with her work at the deli shop. I asked about his father and he mumbled something that I had to tell him to repeat it louder, maybe if Ash had a father figure in his life he could actually get some school work done. “ 

Kukui couldn’t believe what he was reading on his computer screen, how can these people be teachers!? you don’t just say that to one of your students that was actively coming after school hours for help. The disgust was slowly started to thicken inside him, but he ignored the document for the email conversation that was happening instead. 

“ I personally don’t want a slacker in my class, all these notes from these teacher must be true! “ ah, good old Amy. Kukui is all for productivity but he know’s that if a student has a bad day, their going to be slower than normal - or in Kiawe’s case, faster and sloppier. 

“ You have a point Amy, but a lot of the comments accusing Ash never stated if they were right or wrong. so you just can’t go assuming that their all right. “ Victor was always apart of the neutral spot, his place next to Kukui since both of them had experienced bad teachers personally and actually worked with them. 

“ Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt, it say’s that he stopped going to school over 6 years ago, Ash probably wasn’t mentally prepared for school and Kanto does grade harder than we do. this might be really good for him! “ Kukui couldn’t help but figure out who his hackles rose at Petunia’s words. it maybe because Kukui had traveled Alola and Kanto himself, and he didn’t go to collage or any kind of further studies for a while after he got back from Kanto. 

he didn’t bother with a reply because he hasn’t seen the other PDF and so he couldn’t make a full judgment, and he knows Jackson won’t answer until morning because that’s just the type of person he is. 

looking over to the other screen he started from the yellow box surrounding the basic info of the trainer, only to stop and squint at his big screen. 

“ Name: Ashton Ketchum. Class: Pokemon Trainer. Starting Age: 10 - Current Age: 17. Titles: Orange Island Champion; secondary Champion to Kanto and Johto’s Champion Lance, reserving spot for Frontier Brain - though unlikely. Starter Pokemon: Pikachu {through Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos}. Relatives: Delia Ketchum [Mother, Alive], -Unknown Father-, Kanto Champion Red Ketchum [Older Brother, Deceased], Kanto and Johto Champion Lance Wataru [Uncle, Alive]. Doctor Notes: has a severe case of ADHD and has quite the larger appetite for a boy his age and size. “ 

Kukui ha heard about Orange Islands and Secondary Champion during passing, but he never knew it was an actual thing. but he miraculously passed that information over to focus more on the Frontier Brain title, he knows from passing boring students that come from Sinnoh that the Battle Frontier doesn’t hold a spot for a person that was undecided - but apparently for Ash they did. 

getting over his initial shock he was hit by a different wave of emotion when he read through the relative section. He had personally met Delia, she was such a sweet woman during their short meeting and he he couldn’t help remember their last name for some reason. 

this kid - or young adult now - has been dragged through the mud as a young child by his teachers, doesn’t know who his father is and his brother is dead. pursing his lip’s he leaned back into his chair, Kukui pulled his glasses off to lightly chuck them onto the cluttered desk, his hands coming up to press the palms of his hands into his eyes. 

he was honestly fighting himself. 

Kukui had a good reputation with the kids he taught and watched graduate from the Pokemon School, but this year he noticed that Principal Oak had given him... he really shouldn’t call them special kids and those weren’t the right words in any way. 

Lillie comes from a small family, but a family with privilege and wealth, her mother sends over donations for the school to do big projects and that also help pay for any big field trips that they have. Lana’s father is one - if not - the best fishermen in Alola, he helps out the other Scientist if their work is surrounding marine Pokemon and they pay him a very big check every time he brings them the Pokemon on their list. Kiawe’s farm gives a bunch of free food for the kids that usually can’t bring their own lunch and is one of the most sought out brand for certain foods on all four Islands. Sophocles is the younger cousin of Molayne, and is a growing mastermind at technology. Mallow’s father runs one of the best restaurants in Alola and had been featured on many TV shows and some that even went international. 

but unlike them who were placed in his class for one reason or another by Principal Oak, none of his students have the same vibe like Ash. just being in the same room as the young adult Kukui felt like all the colors around him had turned more vibrant, more colorful in general. and watching him practically sink up with Kiawe during the battle between those three team skull kids was amazing, he spoke the commands to Pikachu in such a way that you just imidieatly know that he had been doing this for some time. and from how he interacted with Mallow, they acted like they already knew each other for quite sometime even though they haven't known each other for probably more than two hours. 

but the question rises, where would he stay? The empty loft sitting in his house collecting dust pushed forward in his brain and he knows for a fact that the other teachers wouldn’t give one of their rooms up in their house to a complete stranger. so it was perfectly clear to Kukui. 

ignoring the conversation still going on between the other three teachers he types out his answer to the Principal. 

“ Give him to me, I have a loft in my house since he’s going to need a place to stay and he had already met all of my students. “ he leaned back after he sent the message, chewing on his bottom lip as his mind flashed through the basic paragraph, he should start searching what could help ADHD people learn better. 

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - A story of love

“That smells delicious.”

Smiling, Felicity stepped closer to Oliver. She wrapped her arms around his front and snuggled up to his back with a low sigh. Feeling the warmth of his body being pressed against her and having that delicious scent of food in her nose was everything she needed to feel even more comfortable after her shower.

“I hope it does,” Oliver replied with a chuckle. “I figured that you might need some good comfort food after the day you had, so I decided to delay the zucchini spaghetti to next week and to cook that baked tomato mozzarella chicken with rice you love so much instead.”

Felicity hummed and turned her head. With her nose pressed against Oliver’s back, she sucked in a deep breath. He was smelling even more delicious than the food did if she thought about it now. She was definitely going to enjoy him for dessert tonight.

When Felicity had come back home from Queen Incorporated today, she had been completely discouraged. She and Bruce had hoped to find a way to improve their bio-stimulants soon. Right now, every day felt like it was another setback though. Oliver, who knew her better than anyone else, had felt her discouragement. He had hugged her close and suggested that she’d take her time to take a shower and slip into some comfortable clothes to make herself feel better.

That he was skipping his idea of a healthy dinner to make sure she got the food she wanted and needed today just made him all the way more perfect. It also reminded her once again of how much she wanted this man every second of every day.

Oliver let go of the knife he was using to chop the tomatoes and turned around to Felicity with a hum of his own. His arms wrapped around her waist as hers came to wrap around his neck. Smiling, he leaned in and captured her lips in a gentle kiss.

“I need another ten minutes here,” he told her, his lips brushing against hers while he was talking, “but it will need an hour in the oven after that.”

His lips brushed against hers in another kiss that they deepened at the same time. Their lips opened up to one another. Their tongues stroked together, meeting in an all too familiar dance they had memorized deep in their thoughts a long time ago. Felicity straightened up onto the tip of her toes, seeking even more contact.

Rationally, it should be impossible to still feel so hungry for Oliver whenever she was around him. Especially with days like this, when she felt like maybe she wasn’t as good at her work as she hoped she was, she realized that her desire for him didn’t just come from a sexual need. It was a result of how loved and taken care of she felt around him.

Just when her fingers started playing with the topmost button of his Henley, tripling steps were to be heard in the hallway and they pulled away from each other quickly. Their eyes met and there was the quiet promise of a later in them nonetheless.

“Mom? Dad?”

Felicity rubbed her hand over Oliver’s bicep, shooting him a brief smile. He still wasn’t over the fact that their oldest daughter had started calling them mom and dad instead of mommy and daddy now, at least occasionally.

“What’s up, Kiddo?”

Watching Hawk following Emmy into the kitchen and rising his nose to sniff, Felicity sat down on the kitchen counter. Hawk followed the delicious smell of the pickled chicken. He sat down right next to the corner where he could smell the food and looked back and forth between Oliver and Felicity expectantly.

“Our school started a project about great love stories,” Emmy explained. “Everyone at school is doing a project about love stories in books and movies. I want to make my project revolve around a real love story. Yours.”

“Ours?”

Oliver and Felicity said the words in chorus. Their eyes met briefly, love for each other as well as admiration for that little product of their love visible in them. Emmy, just like her siblings, continued to amaze them.

“Yes.” Emmy nodded her head firmly. “Love stories in books or movies are boring. I want to tell the world about you.”

Felicity could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She loved Emmy with all of her heart, now even more than ever. That she wanted to do a whole project, something that would probably be graded and be presented, about her parents’ love for each other just proved to Felicity that she and Oliver were doing something right. They were showing their kids what real love was supposed to look like.

“And what will that look like?” Felicity asked, clearing her throat to be able to even get the words out. “I mean what do you need from us?”

“Well, I googled some OTP questions,” Emmy said, climbing onto the stool at the kitchen island and opening her notebook with an expression of seriousness on her face. “You have to answer them, so I can take notes. I will decide on a fitting form of presentation later.”

Felicity had to hide an amused grin about Emmy’s choice of words. She could almost see her little girl sitting at her office at QI and ordering the employees around there. She would definitely make a good CEO.

“Are you ready?”

Felicity was already taking in a deep breath to reply when Oliver put a hand to her knee. She lifted her gaze to his face, but he was still or again focused on Emmy.

“I was actually just getting mommy some comfort food,” Oliver explained, “but you can start as soon as I got it for her. Do you mind if I continue preparing dinner?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Great.”

Oliver squeezed Felicity’s knee before he stepped away from her. He went over to the freezer and grabbed the small bucket of mint chocolate chip ice cream they had stored there for emergencies. He passed her the bucket, got a spoon from the topmost drawer of the kitchen cabinet and handed it to her too.

“Thank you.”

Felicity mouthed the words, making a mental note to thank Oliver properly once they were alone. Since Emmy was watching them closely, looking back and forth between them to make sure they were finally ready to answer her questions.

“So,” Felicity asked, opening the bucket and scraping at the ice cream with her spoon, “what is the first question?”

She pushed the first spoon into her mouth and had trouble not to moan out loud. She loved eating ice cream and she loved having the kind of husband who made sure there was always a bucket of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer.

Emmy looked down at her notebook, pursing her lips as she was trying to figure out which question she wanted to ask first. All that was missing was for her to push her non-existing glasses into place for her to look exactly like Felicity did at the start of an important business meeting.

“Who said I love you first?”

“Me,” Oliver replied immediately, grabbing the knife from the kitchen counter and continuing to chop the tomatoes for dinner, “and mommy didn’t say it back.”

Felicity pushed another spoon of ice cream into her mouth and shot Oliver a meaningful look.

She remembered the situation of Oliver’s first real confession of love very well. They had been at the bunker, and she had been at the verge of crying. She had said goodbye to Oliver, thinking she would never see him again. There hadn’t been much missing and she would have collapses right there.

“You were going to die,” Felicity said pointedly.

“Yeah.” Oliver nodded. “And you still didn’t say it back.”

Of course she hadn’t said it back. She had thought that he was going to sacrifice himself because Malcom Merlyn had set up Thea to kill Sara Lance. Felicity still refused to believe that the mighty Ra’s al Ghul wouldn’t have understood who had been responsible for Sara’ murder, so she still had trouble thinking back to Oliver’s decision of fighting Ra’s on that mountain back then.

The truth was that she hadn’t said it back then wasn’t because she hadn’t felt it yet or hadn’t know she had felt it yet. She had known that she loved Oliver. She had known that she had had a crush on him since he had been lying in the back of her car, bleeding and asking her for help. It hadn’t been that long after that that she had noticed that there was a lot more than a crush that had taken over her heart. She had loved Oliver for so long already.

The reason why she hadn’t been able to admit that to herself back then had been that she had been afraid of the consequences. If she had told Oliver that she loved him back then and he would have died, she would have been even more devastated. She remembered those days of thinking he was dead and how it had destroyed her already. If she had admitted to herself how much she had loved Oliver, it would have killed her.

“Dad, why have you been about to die back then?”

“Oh, don’t write any of that down,” Felicity told Emmy quickly. “It’s Green Arrow business.”

Emmy looked at her mother briefly like she was trying to figure out if she was saying the truth or if she was using this as some kind of excuse, so Emmy wouldn’t write it down. She seemed to know Felicity well enough though because she crossed what she had written down before.

“Next question?” Oliver asked.

Emmy nodded. “Next question.”

She looked back down at her nose, moving her puckered lips from right to left. It made her look incredibly cute and Felicity almost felt like she was falling in love with her daughter all over again. No, she definitely fell in love with her all over again.

“So, who is the more romantic in your marriage?”

“Mommy,” Oliver replied immediately, not giving Felicity an opportunity to answer. “She is the most romantic person I know.”

Felicity looked at Oliver doubtingly. He had proposed to her four times now, and he had made sure that every proposal was more romantic than the last had been. He had been the romantic sap to tell her that he didn’t want their marriage to be a routine but to be a choice they made over and over again.

“Nah, it’s you.”

Shooting a brief look at Emmy, who shook her head as she wrote down the new note, Felicity had to bite back a chuckle. Of course Emmy wouldn’t miss something like this.

When Felicity’s eyes met Oliver’s, she noticed that he was hiding a smile of his own. As much as he might love to deny it, she knew that he had no problem with people knowing about his soft spot. He was the Green Arrow, a strong and feared guy by night, but he was a hopeless romantic here at home. He loved being a husband and a father, and he was not ashamed of admitting it.

When Felicity continued smiling at Oliver, just thinking to herself what a great husband and father he was, she almost believed that she saw a blush spreading on his cheeks. He lowered his eyes briefly before he took a step towards her and kissed her cheek. With that, he turned back to the food and put the casserole into the oven.

“Next question?” Felicity asked and smiled excitedly. “This is really fun.”

Emmy smiled happily. Felicity knew that Emmy knew that her parents would always support her projects, whether at school or in private. Either way, Felicity was happy that Emmy was happy about her excitement. She wasn’t sure if this made any sense, but it was what it felt like.

“How would you say I love you in a unique way?” Emmy asked. “Like saying it without saying the words?”

“Oh, that is a good question.”

Felicity nodded her head slowly, thinking about her answer. There were so many things she could possibly say to Oliver that would make him understand what she was trying to say without saying it. She felt like Emmy’s question demanded a different kind of answer though, one that was even more special.

Before she had made up her mind about what words were special enough to say them to Oliver in a case like this, he had already stepped towards her. His hand came to rest on her thigh, the warmth of his palm seeking through her sweatpants.

Felicity lifted her gaze to him, finding his eyes already on her. The expression in them was warm and full of love. From the quiet smile on his lips, she knew that he had already found his answer.

“Felicity.” From the way he said her name with so much love, she knew that he wasn’t just going to tell her and Emmy what his choice of words would be. He would actually use them to declare his love to her again now. “I am probably the perfect example of showing how much people can change and how much life can change. I have grown up being a spoilt guy, living a richie-rich kind of life and being destined to follow into my father’s footsteps. The Gambit turned it all around, sending me down a dark path of loneliness and early death. Then I met you, and it changed once again. I rediscovered my humanity. I become a husband and a father, and this family became everything that is dear to me in life.”

There was a meaningful pause. As much as Felicity knew that Oliver was saying those words now for Emmy’s project, it didn’t make them any less important to her. She knew that he meant every single one of them.

“People change, Felicity. It means we’re growing. It means we’re evolving. As my life changed and I changed, there were a lot of things that changed too. There were things and people that were important to me once that that are no longer important to me now. This is what happens when people and the life surrounding them changes. Except for one thing, one thing that will not change is how I feel about you. Love is too small a word. And no matter who you are or what you become, no matter who I am or what I become, you will always be the love of me. People change. That never will.”

Felicity’s throat was burning as she was trying to process his words. She knew how much these words meant coming from Oliver. He had always had a tendency of pushing people around him away if time got hard, thinking it was his duty to protect them. With this new declaration of love, she knew it would never happen again though.

As long as they were both alive, they would be together. They would love each other no matter what. As much as Felicity knew that a promise like that couldn’t be made, she knew Oliver meant it. She had that kind of irrational trust in their marriage.

“And dad wonders why he is the more romantic.”

Felicity chuckled at Emmy’s words. Without looking at her daughter, she grabbed Oliver’s hand and pulled him closer to her. She captured his lips in a gentle kiss, thanking him for this declaration of love without saying a word. She knew Oliver would understand.

When they pulled apart a moment later, their eyes met immediately. There was a quiet expression in Oliver’s eyes, one that just affirmed the words he had told her before. It was all she needed to know what she needed to tell him.

“Oliver, I love you more than a human being should ever love a human being.” She almost whispered the words, her eyes completely focused on Oliver. “When I first thought those words to myself, they felt scary. I knew they had the power to destroy me. You have the power to destroy me, but I am not worried about that. I know that my heart is safe with you like it has never been safe before. I am not scared about how much I love you. Not even a little bit.”

Felicity could see the effect her words had on Oliver. He knew how much it meant coming from her. Her heart had been broken so many times. It had been shattered in a million pieces. It had been torn apart by the very people who should have kept it safe.

“You will have to dictate those words to me again eventually,” Emmy said with a sigh. “I didn’t get to write them fast enough.”

Chuckling, Felicity broke eye contact with Oliver. She rested her forehead against his shoulder and breathed him in for a moment. Even with Emmy sitting right there and taking notes, there was an incredibly heaviness to those commitments of love.

Her fingers laced with Oliver’s. When he squeezed her hand, Felicity lifted her head from her shoulder. His eyes met hers and, she saw the same recognition of heaviness she felt in her heart mirroring in his eyes.

When Oliver’s eyebrow perked up slightly in a silent question, Felicity nodded her head. Only a moment later, Oliver looked at Emmy and asked, “Next question?”

While Emmy was looking for the next question to ask, Felicity fed Oliver some of her mint-chocolate chip ice cream which might be the greatest declaration of love there was. She really didn’t like to share her ice cream, but she did share it with him. He was the love of her life too.

“So, who needs total darkness when you sleep and who needs a night light?”

“Oh, we are sleeping in total darkness,” Felicity replied, “but your dad did need a nightlight until he was fifteen or maybe sixteen.”

“What?” Oliver frowned. “Where did you get that from?”

“Your sister.”

Oliver clenched his jaws, telling Felicity that Thea hadn’t lied to her about it. She hadn’t actually doubted it though she had thought that maybe Thea had exaggerated it a little. She guessed it had been all true though.

“That little traitor.”

Felicity chuckled, squeezing Oliver’s hand. She knew how much he still troubled to find sleep and keep asleep now. She knew that no nightlife would make it easier for him though.

“For the record,” Oliver added eventually, clearing his throat, “I didn’t need that light. I just liked to have it there in case I woke up, so I wouldn’t feel disorientated.”

Smiling, Felicity bit back any comment she could possibly make. She secretly wondered if Oliver was trying to hide his weaknesses because this could go public. It was a question she would save for the night though when they were all alone.

“Next question,” Felicity suggested.

“What is your favorite cuddle position?”

“Daddy on top,” Felicity said at the same time that Oliver said, “Mommy on top.”

Emmy chuckled with amusement. “Okay.”

While their little girl was taking notes about the answer, Felicity shot Oliver a meaningful glare. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. Felicity was sure that he knew as well as she knew that he had misunderstood this question. He had probably misunderstood it on purpose.

It was no secret, at least not to them, that they both loved cuddling with him on top of Felicity. His body pressing her down into the mattress had gained some comforting familiarity that Felicity had trouble to fall asleep without. She was so used by the feeling of having his body resting on top of her that she felt incomplete without it.

Felicity knew how much it calmed Oliver down to hear her heartbeat. Listening to the sound of it allowed him to drift off into sleep peacefully. It was only part of why he needed to sleep like that so much though.

Although she loved that position to sleep, Felicity knew that it had grown out of a terrifying fear. Oliver had been scared that someone could break into their home and hurt Felicity. With his body covering hers, he had hoped to shield her from any bullet that could possibly be fired at her or anything like that.

Anyway, Felicity knew that Oliver’s answer hadn’t been all about cuddling. It hadn’t been about cuddling at all. Their usual sleeping position had grown out of his trauma. He was the one who had needed it so badly to start with. Though they both loved and needed it now, he was still the one who just needed it a little bit more.

When Oliver had said that he liked her to be on top, he had definitely thought about something else. He had thought about their crazy sex life and how much he loved her to be on top whenever they had sex. His favorite position was for him to sit in bed and her sitting in his lap, taking him however she wanted him. He just had a thing for that.

“Okay, my next question.”

Emmy’s words made Felicity clear her throat. She broke eye-contact with Oliver to focus back on the project at hand. Smiling at her daughter, she encouraged her to just continue then.

“If you fight, who tries to make up first?”

Felicity puckered her lips, meeting Oliver’s eyes again now that there was a new question on the table. She knew it was a good question to ask because it was an important question in any kind of marriage.

She and Oliver had had their fair share of meaningful fights. Given how complicated their life was, it was only natural for that to take a toll on them and affect their marriage. It had never been too serious for them to take though. They knew too well that their life just wasn’t easy.

“Well, that depends I guess,” Oliver answered, turning to Emmy. “Not every situation or every fight is the same.”

Emmy frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Felicity said, squeezing Oliver’s hand in a silent request to let her take over here, “that sometimes daddy makes a mistake and he is the one to seek reunion. Sometimes, I am the one to make a mistake and ask for apology. Sometimes, we are so caught up on our pain that we need each other to call us out on that though. When I am really devastated after a bad day at work, I leave it out at daddy sometimes. Sometimes, I need help to see what I am doing, so daddy is calling me out on it, and it what I need then.”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Oliver whispered, taking over now, “I yelled at your little sisters because I had a bad day. I knew I was wrong. I knew I had to apologize. Still, having mom there to tell me it was okay to feel what I feel even though I had to apologize was helping me.”

Felicity smiled softly. She knew how hard it had been on Oliver. His dad’s birthday had gotten incredibly close to him. He had let all the feelings close to him, the way he should have years ago. He hadn’t known how to deal with all the feelings though, so he had let it all out on Millie and Addie, and he had regretted it badly.

“In marriage, it isn’t about winning,” Felicity added softly. “It’s about making sure your family is safe and okay. You have to admit of making a mistake sometimes because it is the right thing to do. It is the only thing to do to keep your family together and to move forward.”

There had been a lot of situations that had caused Felicity to grow. Her life with Oliver, down at the bunker as well as here in their home, had certainly been one of it. It had caused her to grow in a hundred different ways. Being with him, she had become the very best version of herself.

Felicity smiled at Oliver and she found the same realization mirrored in his eyes. They had become the very best versions of themselves because they were together. They were supporting each other as well as each other’s goals and dreams. Even more importantly, they were challenging each other to become even better. It was why they worked so well together.

“Oh, this question is funny!”

Emmy’s exclaim broke the intense eye contact they had shared. Felicity shot a look at their daughter while Oliver was taking a step towards her. He wrapped an arm around her back loosely and leaned his forehead against her temple. His lips brushed against the edge of her jaw briefly, making her release a quiet sigh.

“Now, who of you pretends to be incredibly sick whenever you just feel a little poorly just so the other will take care of you?”

“Oh, that’s me,” Oliver said unashamedly and lifted his hand. “That’s definitely me.”

Felicity chuckled, resting her hand on his chest. “I can’t argue with that.”

Emmy frowned. “But you always rave with us when we pretend to be sick.”

Biting down on her tongue from amusement, Felicity looked at Oliver. Emmy wasn’t wrong. They had taught their kids not to lie about being sick, so Oliver pretending to be sick was actually going against his own rules. She was excited to see how he was going to wiggle himself out of this.

“You know, I am carrying a lot of responsibility on my shoulders with saving the city,” Oliver said quietly, “so sometimes I like the feeling that someone is taking care of me.”

Felicity had trouble not to roll her eyes. Of course Oliver was playing the hero-card. That would always save him as long as the kids were still young.

“But mom’s a hero too and she doesn’t pretend to be sick.”

“Ha!” Felicity slapped Oliver’s chest playfully and thrust her bucket of ice cream into his hands. “Do you hear that?”

She slipped from the kitchen counter and walked over to Emmy. Putting her hands to the sides of her daughter’s head, she kissed her hair again and again. Emmy tried to fight her off, but she wasn’t putting enough effort into it to make Felicity stop. Only after a while, Felicity rested her cheek against the top of her daughter’s head and looked at Oliver.

“This is my brain speaking out of our daughter here.”

“Mom!” Emmy said and waved with her hand over her head until she managed to push Felicity away from her. “Stop this.”

With another chuckle, Felicity kissed Emmy’s head once more before she pulled away. She didn’t move far away though. Putting her hands on the kitchen counter next to Emmy, she leaned over her daughter’s head and shot a look at her notebook. She had gathered like fifty questions to ask, and it looked like she and Oliver were about to be in for an interesting ride of reflecting their love story.

“I like this question,” Felicity whispered and tipped her finger onto the notebook. “Let’s ask this one.”

Emmy turned her head back over her shoulder and smiled at her mother. Felicity could see how happy she was about her mother’s excitement.

“So,” Emmy said, looking back and forth between her parents, “tell me something that you noticed about the other that you think they haven’t realized yet.”

Oliver perked up his eyebrows in surprise at that question and shot a brief look at Felicity. She knew what he was thinking. He was wondering if this was some kind of trick question. They knew each other like nobody else knew them, but they also shared everything they were thinking and feeling with each other like they did with nobody else.

Through the years, Felicity had noticed a lot of things about Oliver. She had noticed that he was turning his wedding band around his finger when he was nervous. It was a new kind of tick, one that hadn’t yet displaced the way his fingers were rubbing together nervously, but one that had been added to it. She had noticed a lot more things, even a lot more subtle things, but that one always came to her mind when she thought about Oliver.

She knew that he had noticed a lot of things about her too. He had shared all those things with her though, just like she had shared those things with her though, leaving no room for anything more.

“Well, there is one thing I noticed about daddy that I am sure he hasn’t noticed about himself yet,” Felicity whispered and though she was looking at Emmy, she could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as he was waiting with held breath for her to spill that secret. “We told you that Granny Moira and Grandpa Robert didn’t always do things right, right?”

Emmy nodded. “They failed the city.”

Smiling softly at hearing her daughter say her father’s characteristic words, Felicity nodded her head. “Yes, they did.”

Felicity could feel Oliver’s slight discomfort. Without looking at him, she knew that he was looking down at his feet at least for a moment. He needed a moment to deal with his emotions at mentioning his parents’ mistakes. Soon, they were having his attention again though.

“Daddy learned a long time ago that what his parents did isn’t his fault and that it’s not his responsibility to right their wrongs.”

Make it home. Make it better. Right my wrongs.

Felicity had never heard those words being said. She had never even heard Robert’s voice, at least not live. Still, those words he had said to Oliver right before he had shot himself in front of him were ringing in her ears like she had been there too.

“Still, whenever someone or something reminds him of all the wrongs his parents did,” Felicity continued, “he fights all the harder to make this city better.”

“And he doesn’t know that?”

Felicity shot a look back over her shoulder and saw the confirmation for her thoughts in Oliver’s eyes. He did know that.

“He does know that,” Felicity replied in a whisper. “What he doesn’t know is that he doesn’t do it for his parents anymore. Granny Moira and Grandpa Robert died a long time ago, and I don’t think anything will ever purge their names.”

It was a sad thought, but Felicity knew it was true. Robert’s and Moira’s names would always be linked to the Undertaking. They would forever be reminded as two of the people responsible for the death of hundreds. Nothing Oliver could do would ever wash that away from people’s mind.

“Then why does he do it?”

Emmy only whispered the question. She always got flustered when they were talking about the Green Arrow. She knew how much depended on her secrecy in this. If any word about this ever spilled from her lips, her dead could end up being locked up at Slabside for the rest of his life.

“He does it because he cares for the city of course, but he also does it for you,” Felicity replied, tapping the tip of her finger against the tip of Emmy’s nose, “and for your siblings of course.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Felicity nodded. “Daddy wants to make this city a better place for you, but he also wants to make sure that neither of you has to take any consequences for what his parents has done. His life has taken a dark turn because of it. He wants to make sure you won’t suffer the consequences of your grandparents’ actions and that you will never feel like you have to right your parents’ wrongs.”

Felicity could feel Oliver’s intense gaze on her. He was watching her while he was trying to find out if she was right. Felicity didn’t need to see his face to know that he eventually agreed with her.

As much as Felicity wanted to turn her head back and look at Oliver for a moment, she continued watching Emmy’s face. There were a thousand different emotions playing on her face before she seemed to understand the depth of this. Oliver’s reasons for being the hero that he was hadn’t been rooted in the past for a while. They were rooting in the future, in the kids’ future.

Emmy nodded slightly like she understood the meaning of all of this. No matter what would happen and what the future would bring, she would never have to feel like she had to right her father’s wrongs. If Oliver was ever exposed as actually having been the Hood after all, it wouldn’t be her responsibility to purge his name for the city.

Clearing her throat slightly, Emmy turned her head to Oliver. “So, what did you notice about mommy that she hasn’t noticed yet?”

With a smile, Felicity kissed the top of Emmy’s head and finally looked at Oliver too. He still seemed to be astonished about what Felicity had said, probably thinking it through right now. His eyes came to rest on her face for a moment, a slight nod visible as he was agreeing with her wordlessly.

After a moment, he cleared his throat though. “I think I have to pass on this, at least for now.”

Felicity smiled. Oliver knew her better than anyone else. She had often thought that he knew her better than she knew herself. Apparently, that wasn’t the case though. Even if it was, Felicity didn’t mind. If it was anyone else, the thought that someone knew her better than she knew herself would scare her. That wasn’t the case with Oliver though. She felt a hundred percent secure with him. She’d lay her life and her heart into his hands again and again, knowing he’d do anything he could do to protect it.

Emmy nodded her head. “Okay, so the next question.”

Oliver rubbed his hands together. “Tell me. I am sure that I can answer this time.”

Smiling softly, Felicity left Emmy’s side and walked over to the kitchen area. Oliver had just put the rest of the ice cream back into the freezer when Felicity wrapped her arms around his middle from behind and snuggled her cheek against his shoulder blades. His hands came to rest on top of her hands and he released a low sigh of content.

“What-“

When Hawk suddenly jumped up, resting his paws on the kitchen counter and licking the cutting board where Oliver had chopped the tomatoes before, Emmy stopped and started laughing. Quickly, Oliver went over and pushed Hawk down.

“Stop it.”

Hawk barked at Oliver twice, waggling his tail, before he ran out of the room. Emmy looked after him for a moment. Then she closed her notebook and slipped down from the bar stool.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” she said. “I will go upstairs.”

She followed Hawk just as quickly as the dog had left the kitchen, leaving Oliver and Felicity alone downstairs. Felicity smiled, shaking her head slowly. The kids loved Hawk so much. They should have really gotten a dog a long time ago.

When Oliver’s arms wrapped around her, Felicity turned towards him. She put her hands to his biceps and leaned back in his arms slightly, so she could look at his face.

“We are her OTP,” he said.

Felicity perked up an eyebrow. “How do you know what an OTP is?”

“From you, obviously.” Oliver chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “You were once voting for TV’s Top Couple and you explained it to me.”

It took Felicity another moment, but she soon remembered that Oliver was right. She had told him about that. The fact that he remembered, though it didn’t surprise her, made her smile.

“We have learned a lot from another, haven’t we?”

Oliver nodded his head. “Yes, we have. And we will learn even more from each other in the future. Hopefully.”

“Certainly,” Felicity agreed.

They smiled at each other for a long moment, sealing the promise with their eyes, before they leaned in and let their lips brush together in a gentle kiss. They would always enjoy a walk down the memory lane, so they were already looking forward to the next round of Emmy’s project. 

@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @muslimsmoak @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @arrowsalways @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @mysaudadespt2 @florence-bubbles @addictiontelly @queens-of-arrows @memcjo @hysterical-for-joshifer @oswinelevenforever @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310 @mymusiclove101 @lynslogic @scarletqueen23 @olicityshipper19 @alex-wesley @arrows-4ever @unabashedlynerdypatrol @louehmysoul @ligiapimenta @chattyyana @charlie-leau @coal000 @samcrowleys @ishippolivia @julianegomesqueen @malafle @miriam1779 @charlinert @melaux @ontheolicityship @myshipperlife @wrightainsley @lexi9515 @ladygreenwood @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl @morinamel @mje-thomas @kebarry @canadianheartgirl @nannett2307 @almondblossomme @paarti12 @kathrynelizabeth89 @imdfabulous @cutearrowgirl @mrt2501 @mecha1330 @arsipaci14 @mzminx @salasvia @brandis91 @cainc3 @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl @iamisalima @nessafra @jonhdiggle @niki-is-amazing @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior @senoritaswiftie @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel @iheartarrow @olicityovereverything @oliverfel4 @navyaarsha @fandoms-breathe-life @simone4mcswarek @olicity-in-the-heart @fullychippedcreation @geemarie @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld @tjmartinez @pleasantfanandstudent @itsmagnoliagirl @j69confessional2 @scentedcolorpirate @icanica74 @javinancupil @tjmartinez98 @certainmentalityface @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin @missafairy @letsplaymurde-r @lipizette @positivepiper @nuttymilkshakehologram @laksagirl @turnupthemusicandscream @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity @1106angel @jaspertown @fadinglands @morganashimi83 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @mariejr88-blog @thetaufactor @onceuponanolicity @speakandseethetruth @bri206 @aglasgo @thats0klaroline @geemarie @pineprincess @nerdgirljen @peterpanslostgirl666 @eternal-olicity14 @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay @lovelycssefan @tsseract @flowerandsunshine @dcnmarvelgamergeek @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark @soaring-cities @bb-olicity @mashamarty @rulerofsilence @erika-amber @felicity087 @i-claim-only-emily @pattid1 @westallenandolicityshipper @babyolicityandwestallen @nothingmorethanmyotps @kayleenyc @tonto16 @olicityfluv @olicitea1990 @olicity5ever @haahaaa2408 @pattid1 @faegal04 @24karatgem

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[edelgoth]

Salutations and felicitations! I was wondering if you could do a matchup for FE3H and Awakening.I'm INTP, but also a Gemini. I am biromantic, ace, and non-binary (Not confident on how correct the first label is considering the nb bit, but I digress) My interests include weapons(Swords daggers spears etc), history, a fair bit of religion, fashion/makeup, and travel. I'm also dramatic as heck, and cannot stand incorrect pronunciation. I'm also really feminine if that helps. Thank you in advance!

sorry this took so long to do! i’ve had a ton of assignments so i’ve been working on this intermittently. i hope you like it!

for three houses, i match you with…

flayn!!

i surprised myself a little here, but i think flayn would be a really good fit for you!!

flayn is a very curious person, so i think she’d find you really interesting! she’d love all of your interests, and would really enjoy hearing about them; and you bet that she’s got a ton of questions

she’d want you to teach her all about weapons and how to use that; that goes about as well as you can expect (but at least the enthusiasm is there)

please update her fashion sense, i’m begging you,,, she needs it desperately 

she’d really enjoy talking history and religion with you; absolutely makes little corrections to whatever you’re saying, but only giggles when you ask her how she would know that  

she would love travelling with you!! or, at the very least, hearing stories of your travels. i also think flayn would be a pretty good travelling partner? she’s just so full of enthusiasm and delight for the world around her that it’d be wonderful

i also think that flayn would be able to handle your dramatic side quite well. part of me says that she’d even indulge in it, since she has the propensity to be quite dramatic herself 

you don’t like incorrect pronunciation? well, flayn has got you covered!! she’s almost too proper in her speech 

okay but you and flayn doing cute things together!! styling each others hair!! doing each others makeup!! organizing outfits together!! wholesome and good!!

also tbh i kind of headcanon flayn as biromantic ace too (intsys is just a COWARD and won’t let her have any supports with women),,, she’s just here for the Romance 

this is such a precious concept, please love my daughter

alternate matchups

linhardt: i think you and linhardt are on the same intellectual wavelength, and that could be a good bonding point. i also think linhardt is just so laidback that your dramatic personality would bounce off him quite well. i just didn’t pick him because a lot of the positives would rely on the two of you having interests that aligned, and that seems like it’d be quite hard to predict. 

annette: honestly, the reasons i’d match you with annette are very similar to what i listed with flayn!! i think annette would very much delight in your interests, would love doing fashion and makeup with you, etc, etc. i was just more passionate about the flayn matchup; but annette would be an excellent match too!! 

awakening match is below the cut!

for awakening, i match you with…

frederick!!

my BOY what a good lad 

first of all, i think there would be incredible contrast between frederick’s very straight-laced personality and your dramatic one

also good contrast between his “i am a knight and Therefore Traditionally Masculine” aesthetic and your femininity (love a good contrast)

and what’s kind of wonderful about that is you probably bonded over weapons; you were trying to assert that swords were better and he adamant that lances were the best tool with which to protect chrom,,, it was love from first conversation really 

he really enjoys training with you, and it’s one of his favourite ways of spending time with you; it’s sort of a two birds, one stone sort of thing  

please teach this man to dress nice; i feel like his everyday outfits would be really boring and practical, so his wardrobe needs some flair added to it

and as with flayn; pronunciation? frederick’s got you covered. he didn’t train to be a knight for nothing 

i feel like he’d know a surprising amount about history and religion? that knowledge is surprisingly helpful for protecting the ylissean royal family

might be hard-pressed to get him to travel with you, though; convince chrom first and you’ll be good to go. it’ll be like a family outing. going to regna ferox with the kids. 

also make sure he gets enough sleep and rests once in a while i am b e g g i n g you,,, he needs it

alternate matchups

cordelia: idk why i paired you with both the workaholics but here we are. cordelia’s very intelligent, so i think she’d keep up with your interests very well! she probably knows quite a bit about history and religion herself, and she’s definitely got a refined knowledge of weaponry. idk why i chose frederick over her, but the vibe is stronger with him? 

donnel: i feel like he’d just be really curious about the things you’re interested in? he hasn’t gotten the chance to be exposed to much on the farm, so he’d always listen with rapt attention whenever you spoke to him about history or religion; but he especially enjoys hearing your travel anecdotes. i think donnel would be quite cute and enthusiastic about that sort of stuff. another excellent match!