#and talented like she puts everything into that

[endiness]

not to go off on this again (and because of a bullshit clickbait article from screenrant as if that isn't their entire business model in the first place) but it's still so fucking mindboggling to me just how much henry cavill was able to brainwash people. like, the idea that he was the one that made the show and he was the only good thing about it and the only good casting choice when he was very noticeably the worst actor on the entire show and meanwhile the rest of the cast is extremely talented and easily acted circles around him. not to mention that he has all the charisma of a black hole sucking all of the chemistry out of the room.

and the whole idea that he is some uber fan of the franchise and the only person on the entire show that knows anything about the source material and cares about it which is also always said in conjunction with the idea that he's the one who made the show. when he didn't even know that the books existed, he only read them once after lauren told him about them, he's only played tw3 (and not even the dlc for it), and by his own admission he didn't do any research for the role. and then meanwhile you've got joey who wrote a whole ass song in ~24 hours and showed up in costume with a lute to audition and who's read the entire series at least 3 times as of 2023; therica, whose books are all annotated and she tries to go back and reread the series before each season and even goes on youtube to watch video essays to refresh her memories; cassie, who has a binder full of notes on philippa and her backstory and everything; and many, many other cast members who've done a lot of research into the books and their characters and the universe and the franchise. but somehow henry cavill is the massive superfan. because he said that a lot in interviews. while never actually giving any examples of that beyond, like, having said he played tw3 for a ton of hours. (which, duh, 'cause a playthrough of that game can easily clock in at +100 hours.)

and speaking of the idea that he just cares SO much about the source material and that's why he ragequit the show because the writers weren't following the books closely enough, likE. he is the one who made geralt's characterization book inaccurate in s1 because he would cut his lines and either just say nothing or grunt instead. (and he also gave his scene partners zero indication he was going to do this and just left them hanging and wondering what was going on and if he was actually going to say his lines and put them into the position of having to improvise and take his lines just to move the plot forward.) and the only reason why he suddenly started to advocate for a more book accurate geralt come s2 is because he got dunked on by reddit for his performance in s1. (which he also took virtually no responsibility for whatsoever and just passed all of the blame off onto the writers for HIS acting choices. wait, that's not entirely accurate. he also blamed yennefer and ciri's prominence on geralt's lack of dialogue even though ciri's scenes were the ones that were cut in s1. yennefer's, too, btw.) he also fucked up geralt and jaskier's friendship by cutting his lines in s1 (and imo there is a lot of implication that the things he was cutting in their scenes was actual affirmation on geralt's side of things that he actually cares about jaskier) and by his own admission, he didn't want to play them as being all buddy-buddy with each other. and his refusal to play geralt struggling with fatherhood and with any negative character traits in s2 led to the domino effect of eskel's death (which in itself led to vesemir trying to create new witchers and lambert's harsher attitude toward ciri), yennefer's betrayal, and voleth meir being the big bad of the season. he also cut a sex scene between geralt and yennefer in s2 because he didn't think it would be in character of them to have sex after reuniting (lolwut) and he cut a scene between geralt and triss of even them just platonically finding comfort in each other (that's what happens in the books.) but yeah, HE just cares about the source material SO MUCH. that's why everything he had a hand in went against the books.

(not to mention that the thing he was clashing with lauren over was that he was not the main character (ciri is the main character of the main books, btw) but rather co-lead with two women and he was mad that the show heavily revolves around women (the books heavily revolve around women) instead of men.) (in s2 interviews, he goes on about how important men being three dimensional characters is to him as if women being three dimensional characters on the show somehow means that men can't be. which is ironic of him to say anyway, tbh, considering he didn't want geralt to be a three dimensional character. as three dimensional characters have flaws. and he didn't want geralt to have any.) (oh, and just to mention but when talking about how violent men can be three dimensional and caring, henry cavill lists who men can be caring towards: other men, family, children. weird he doesn't mention women at all. i'm sure that's not an indication of anything especially when it's said by someone who's a self-professed nerd, lorebuff, redditor, and gamer. because they're always known for non-rancid takes about women. especially when they've already gotten flack for their "i'm afraid to flirt because i'll be accused of being a rapist" #metoo takes. 💅)

(also, just with the conspiracy theory that henry cavill ragequit the show because it wasn't following the books closely enough. like, that is just a conspiracy theory though. the only "proof" there ever was of it was henry cavill going on about how important adhering to the source material is to him. except everything he had a hand in went against the books, so that can't be true. and the thing he and lauren were clashing over was how he was not the main character (geralt is not the main character) and the prominence of women in the series (the women in the books drive the plot forward in massive ways). so that can't be true. and s3 was the closest adaption of the books anyway, so yeah. that really can't be true. and the only other thing that's "proof" is the rumor that the writers hate the source material. which was started by henry cavill's buddy, a writer who was fired from the show for allegedly being emotionally, physically, and sexually abusive. so i'm sure his word is totally trustworthy and he wouldn't have a vested interest in lying and creating a rumor to incite the fanbase against his former co-workers whom he was allegedly fired for mistreating in the first place. (btw, witin the past year, the same writer was fired again for allegedly the same kind of reasons.) also, i'm sure it's jut a coincidence how that rumor, which was started by henry cavill's friend, to disparage the show and the writers dropped about a week before henry cavill announced he was no longer going to be on the show. like, it definitely couldn't've been a coordinated effort between them or anything.) (psst, the rumor that hc was fired for being sexist actually has the most evidence supporting it. js.)

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

The Polar Express, 2004

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 3k

Notes: I don’t think you understand the phone shit I’m going through right now, especially with how I only write on my phone it hurts my FEELINGS so yeah this is not edited and I’ve done my best okay I literally am currently finishing it as I’m typing this

Buck stands at the counter, tapping his fingers against the smooth marble.

“Okay… the cookies are in, the bread is proofing, the cake is cooling, the scones have another 10 or so minutes until they’re ready to be iced…”

He scrolls on his iPad, reading through all his notes and recipes. He was stressed, incredibly stressed, he’d hesitantly asked Athena two weeks ago if he could host Secret Santa and then they’d all migrate over to her place for dinner and presents.

She graciously agreed, it gave her more time to get everything ready and less to stress about on Christmas Day. But now here he is, at one in the morning, the kitchen is a disaster zone that he’s disappointed in because he always cleans as he goes, the cookies aren’t going to have anywhere to cool if he doesn’t get cleaning and he hasn’t even started on buttercream.

Why the hell he thought this was a good idea he doesn’t freaking know, he doesn’t know why he volunteered, he doesn’t know why he put himself through this he doesn’t know why the bag of powdered sugar is on the floor, he doesn’t-

He jumps a little, he hadn’t even heard you pad softly down the stairs, he hadn’t heard you trying to get his attention. It’s like everything just stops as soon as you put your arms around his waist, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

“Buck? You in there?” You ask quietly, you sound sleepy. He takes a deep breath and turns in your arms

“Hey baby” He smiles softly, leaning down to kiss your nose “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, kinda woke up on my own” You rest your chin on his chest, blinking sleepily “You okay?”

“I’m fine, really”

You pull back a little, giving him a skeptical look. His disheveled appearance screams anything but fine. The mess around the kitchen is a little cry for help to sort through the mess that is his anxiety right now.

He just wanted everyone to be proud.

You pull away from him and go over to the little hooks in the corner, grabbing your small pink apron and tying it around you. You grab the matching pink scrunchie with it and pull your hair back.

“What do you need from me, Chef?”

“It would be a big help if you helped me clean up a bit? Maybe watched the cookie timer? And then helped me dip the scones when they’re ready and-“

You come over to the counter and start collecting everything and moving it to the sink, you stand on your toes as you pass and he bends down to peck your lips

“One at a time baby boy,” You tell him calmly “We can handle this”

He melts as you kick your stool in front of the sink and dump everything in to start washing. He always made fun of you for it, but it was easier to rinse from higher up okay.

He sits back for a moment, watching you clean the dishes without any complaining, just…getting straight to work to help him out. He comes over and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the back of your neck

“I love you, so fucking much” He mumbles and you smile, leaning into him a little

“I love you too, you’re doing really good Buck. They’re gonna be really impressed”

“I’m just, I’m so worried things won’t turn out”

“You’re seriously talented Evan,” You tell him, glaring at him a little “Don’t let your brain tell you any different”

“Easier said than done” He reaches forward, taking the dish from you and rinsing it

“This would be way sexier if you were helping me with the bread earlier”

You snicker and push him back a little, grabbing the dish and setting it on the rack

“Just start on your buttercream weirdo”

He takes a clean bowl and sets it up on the stand mixer, with you helping keep things clean suddenly his mind isn’t as cluttered, the cookie timer goes off and he doesn’t even have a chance to turn around before you’re pulling them out and setting them down on the counter space you’d cleared for them.

You check on the cake for him as he’s getting the bread into the oven next and then start on the glaze for the scones. He’s watching you mix it by hand while his buttercream goes in the stand mixer and his heart aches at the sight of you, you’ve got bubbles in your hair from the dishes and a little dash of powdered sugar across your face. You smell like fresh lemons and sweet raspberry scones, and god do you look good enough to eat… he doesn’t miss the tiny pajama shorts you’re wearing and one of his large t-shirts slightly tucked into it.

You reach over and pull the little lever to stop the stand mixer and he blinks rapidly

“You’re gonna over mix it” You warn him before going back to your glaze, he looks down at his perfect vanilla butter cream, his perfect raspberry scones you’re dipping and his perfect cake sitting on the counter waiting to be iced.

And then he looks at his perfect you, and suddenly everything isn’t so bad anymore… that anxious tension between his shoulder blades is gone, that slight tremor that nearly ruined his royal icing borders from a batch of cookies earlier is gone…

“What are you doing?” You watch as he puts the crumb-coated-cake into the fridge, lays a tea towel over the cookies and puts the rest of his dishes into the dishwasher

“We can finish those in the morning, it won’t take long”

You set another scone onto the tray and he hands you the next one, his body pressing against yours, soft and warm…and something hard pressing into your side

“I think you forgot to take one of your spatulas from your apron” you chuckle as you swirl the scone through the creamy white glaze and set it on the tray. Buck pushes your hand away as you reach for another and he reaches into the bowl, scooping up some of the sticky, white, mixture.

“Hey! I’ve still got four-“

Your words are cut off as he slides his fingers into your mouth, his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he pulls you closer to him

“Clean ‘em up for me baby”

You do as he says, running your tongue over his fingers and sucking them clean, he kisses your neck softly, fucking your mouth with them before pulling them away with a wet pop.

“Good girl”

He unties your apron, setting it aside before taking your shirt off next, his hands come up your sides, leaving a trail of flour. He palms your breasts running his thumbs over your nipples and you let out a shuddering sigh as they pebble under the cool air and his touch

“Every day I fall more and more in love with you” He mumbles, kissing you with a heated passion, his tongue slipping past your lips as you gasp. He grabs your hips tighter and sits you on the counter, stepping between your legs

“I know what you mean” you reach behind you, twirling the honey wand before pulling it back out and letting the sticky substance drip down over your breasts

His eyes widen as he watches the golden liquid trickle down your chest, pooling in your cleavage. He licks his lips, his cock twitching with anticipation.

“Fuck, that's hot” he breathes, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to trace a finger through the honey, gathering it up before bringing it to his mouth.

“Mmm, you taste even sweeter than I imagined” he murmurs, his tongue swirling around his finger.

He leans down, his tongue darting out to lap at the honey on your skin, his hands cupping your breasts and kneading them gently. He takes his time, savoring every drop, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin.

His hands reach down, tugging on your panties and you lift your hips as he pulls them off. He runs his fingers through your soaked folds teasingly

“So fuckin’ wet for me already, aren’t you?”

He slips his fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing against your clit and you pant softly, leaning back on your elbows as he fucks you, his fingers curl upward and you gasp desperately, letting your head fall back, pressing your back into the flour covered counters. Your hands come up to tug at the roots of your hair, sugar sticking to your forearms as he works you open with his fingers. He pulls his fingers away, licking them clean and you whimper at the empty feeling

“Shhh baby” He drops his basketball shorts and his cock springs out, hard and thick, the tip leaking precum already. It drips down from the tip of his cock and you lick your lips as he steps onto your little stool

“Arent you already tall enough??” You poke at him and he grabs your hips, dragging you to his cock. He rubs his tip through your glistening lips, staring into your eyes with so much love and adoration.

“Just gives me a better angle to make love to you” He rocks his hips, shallowly thrusting the tip in and you gasp, biting your lip.

“You’re so pretty baby” He teases your clit again, rubbing slow torturous circles until he finally slowly pushes forward, his cock sliding deep inside your tight walls. He groans at the sensation, his eyes rolling back in pleasure and you sigh dreamily, your eyes rolling back too.

He sets a slower pace, flour covered hands leaving prints behind as he thrusts slow and hard, his hips kissing yours each time. He growls lowly, a primal noise coming from his chest as he works you on his cock.

His hands roam your body, caressing your tits, your stomach, your thighs, leaving trails of flour and sugar in their wake. He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the intense sound filling the kitchen and echoing in your ears as he slowly starts to lose control

“Holy shit, Buck” You pant, arching your back up and moaning for him, your heart pounds in your ears in time with his thrusts and you slowly remember the reason you’re always so gone for him

He moans deeply, placing his palms flat on the counter and rutting into you and you whimper with each thrust, your mind spinning at the way he fills you up.

“I want, I want to try something” He pulls out slowly, his chest heaving as he rubs his thumb through your soaked folds. You squirm underneath him and his finger keeps going, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as he pushes against that tight ring of muscle

“You think it’s been too long since we…?” He manhandles you onto your stomach, helping you place your knees on the counter

“N-no I think- I think I could handle that”

“You really think so?” He reaches forward and you just see a jar disappearing from your peripheral vision “I don’t wanna push you”

You put your forehead against your hands waiting with bated breath, his hand slides over your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and your back arches deeper. What he doesn’t know is that this was definitely going to be apart of his Christmas present this year and you’d been wearing a plug all week before taking it out before bed.

“Jesus you’re gonna give me a heart attack with the way you’re presenting yourself” He chuckles lightly. You hear a soft “tink” before you feel the sweet honey dripping over your ass, he moans as it slides down over your pretty, puffy lips and he can’t take it anymore.

You squeak as he dives in, your ass spread wide as he licks at your hole, his moans vibrate up your spine and pretty soon you’re moaning with him. He pulls away, drizzling a little more honey over your hole and kissing your cheek before pulling your legs down so you’re hanging off the counter.

“You ready for me baby?” He spreads your cheeks again and spits, and you squeak. He gives your ass a little smack, smirking

“Earth to bunny”

“I’m ready” you punctuate your words with a little shake of your hips and he takes the honey wand again, drizzling some over his cock and stroking it slowly before lining himself up. He taps your cheek lovingly before pushing into you carefully.

Your jaw drops slowly at the intense pressure as he slides into you. He groans loudly, his palms sliding over your body as he lays against you, his chest firm against your back.

“Feels so g-good Bunny” his hips stutter as he tries to keep from plowing right into you. He works you on his cock slowly, getting you used to his size again and you lay plastered against the counter, moaning softly and taking everything he’s giving you.

“You think you can take me harder baby? Faster?” His teeth are gritted, like he’s fighting even harder now to hold back and that sends a thrill right down to your core. He feels so impossibly big in your ass, stretching you in a way he hasn’t in a good while.

“I can handle it” You reassure him again, eagerly moving your hips on his cock and he grins wickedly

“Thats my slutty little Bunny”

He takes it slow for a minute, working you up to a faster pace before you’re making little squeaking sounds again with every rough thrust. His hands leave sticky fingerprints behind, marking your body with all the dirty things he’s doing to you. He drizzles more honey over his cock as he thrusts in and out, moaning at the little tendrils that stick you together over and over.

You reach out, holding onto the heavy stand mixer to brace yourself as he pins you down to the counter, his hand on the back of your neck

“You're so fucking sexy like this, spread out for me, taking my cock like a good little slut” he growls, his words filthy and degrading, but filled with a twisted sort of affection.

You babble in response and it just drives him crazier, he holds your hips in hands, definitely leaving behind bruises that you absolutely welcome.

Your eyes roll back and you dig your head into the counter, he reaches backward awkwardly for a second and rips a towel from the stove, he leans forward pushing inside you deeper and you cry out his name, your legs shaking.

“I’m sorry baby” he snickers, lifting your head gently and putting the towel underneath it, it’s not much but it’s something. His movements become a bit slower, deeper, and you grip that stand mixer with everything left in you as he makes love to you. His hand slides over your torso, his fingers rubbing your clit slowly, and you let out a shuddering little sigh

“There’s my pretty girl, nothin’ in that head of yours but my cock huh? Love it when you get this way”

You nod dumbly at him and he groans, his head falling back as his hips smack into yours rougher, his finger start rubbing your clit faster and you arch your back and bring your knees to your chest. He holds them in place, hissing at how tight you are around him, his pace becomes erratic again as he loses his mind inside you.

He messily places your hand over your clit and sinks his fingers inside you. You shriek as he plunges his cock in and out of your ass, his fingers working in tandem in your pussy

“Come on bunny, fuck cum for me please, I need to see you fall apart first please bunny please”

His whiny, begging, tone sends you over the edge as you scream his name, tears streaming down your face as your back arches fully off the counter and you squirt over his fingers, he moans your name loudly as he finishes inside you, fucking his cum as deeply as he can into you. He rolls his hips with each thrust before holding it inside you, pushing into you.

You lay on the counter stunned, your body shaking as you let your body turn to jelly underneath him. You weakly wipe at the tears on your face and he steps down off the stool, sliding you off the counter with him and staggers over to the couch. He plops down heavily onto it, before letting his body fall slump down, keeping his arms tightly around you.

You lay together for a while, panting softly in his neck while he rubs your back soothingly, occasionally placing weak little kisses to your temple. He can’t move very much either after that and neither of you have a problem with this.

He’s distractedly humming underneath the tree when he suddenly shifts a little, getting you both more comfy

“I think I broke my dick”

You snort into his chest as he grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it haphazardly over the two of you.

“I don’t think you broke your dick” you tell him and he scoffs

“How would you know? It’s inside you, you can’t see it!”

“Okay. By that logic, neither can you. Buck I think we’d know if you broke your dick… if that’s even possible”

“Oh it is, I’ve seen it before” his eyes close and you lift your head, looking at his peaceful expression as he starts to fall asleep.

“You’ve seen a broken dick before???”

Suddenly his bread alarm goes off and he jumps, accidentally knocking you off of him and onto the floor.

“My bread!!”

“My kidneys”

[monkey-overalls]

Project: Eden’s Garden Daily Life Thoughts

Okay, I just finished the Daily Life walkthrough—here are my thoughts so far:

Eva. Eva Freaking Tsunaka. I did not expect her to go from a character I’d basically forgotten about since the prologue to my current favorite. She’s literally everything—it’s hard to put into words how much I love her in all her geeky glory. The fact that her “Ultimate Liar” talent was, in itself, a lie was something I somehow didn’t see coming, but her real talent is definitely more intriguing. Thanks to the let’s-player only choosing her FTEs, we get to know so much about her backstory and how unfairly she was treated by her school, teammates, and the UTP. Of course, some—or even all—of that could also be a lie, but for now I choose to believe she only lied initially to protect herself. Besides, she really doesn’t have much to gain from continuously venting about her past to Damon. I’m pulling a Kaito and believing in her simply because I can!!!

Kai. You bet I’m already attaching myself to the pink-haired, crybaby sidekick. I have a type, and my type is incredibly obvious to literally anyone who’s spent at least five minutes on my blog. He’s obnoxious, whiny, and I can’t help but want to give him a fidget cube and cradle him in a weighted blanket. He’s sopping wet and perfect. I also already shipped him and Damon from the start and boy do I feel vindicated!

Wolfgang. I know he’s the fan-favorite, and it’s easy to see why, but I can’t bring myself to like him all that much because the dude is just so unbelievably shady. Before chapter one, I thought there was a good chance he could be the first victim, especially when he’s so clearly set up as Damon’s narrative foil, but after a while my suspicions turned to Eva (no matter how sick that made me feel). Sorry Wolfgang fans, I actually breathed a sigh of relief when he was revealed to be dead because I was so certain it would be Eva. Hopefully this isn’t me seriously jinxing myself and she turns out to be the killer or something. Also damn his death artwork is brutal.

Uhhh lightning round… Ingrid is so sweet; Applejack is one of my highest kins so you know I’m keeping my eye on this hard-working Southern belle. Toshiko is adorable and her secret made me laugh out loud, though I immediately felt guilty about it. Grace continues to be loud and antagonistic, you go queen. Jett has done nothing of note so far but he’s still at the top of my list for his unmatched Scooby Doo goofiness alone. Diana inviting Eva to be her roommate makes her an automatic winner in my book (and I lowkey ship them) but her questioning of Damon makes me a tad suspicious. My thoughts about Jean can basically be summed up in that one meme that goes something like “I’m gonna be honest, I’m only focusing on your titties right now.” Cassidy’s cool, and I’m almost certain her blackmail picture was a reference to the Jerma onion ring clip. Eloise, Mark, Desmond, Wenona, and Ulysses… exist. Sorry, I don’t have much to say about any of them.

TDLR; Eva Tsunaka lovers unite, Kai sucks but in a lovable way, and RIP Wolfgang I guess lmao

[ladykailitha]

Howlin' For You Part 2

I love how that rhymes! What can I say I'm a dork!

Ah yes the little ficlet that got away from me. The first part is here. The main story is here.

I actually just love this verse in general. It's just a fun little world to play in.

Tomorrow there will be no WIP Wednesday due to the holiday. But I will be back next week with maybe a new fic for you to request. We'll see how far I get.

Sunday is also the beginning of my hiatus. Every once in awhile, I take a break from posting to relax, spend time with my family and fluff back up my backlog. I'm just not sure who long it's going to take. I said two weeks last time and I was ready to get back at it after a week. But we'll see.

~

Steve thought he looked ridiculous, like he stepped off the covers of some Harlequin romance. All he needed was a busty blonde trying to rip his clothes. Which he honestly didn’t know any. He was too well-bred to tug at his cravat even though he wanted to.

Not that it was too tight. It was impeccably tailored. That was the upside to having friends in every avenue of the supernatural community is that clothes were always made by the best tailors and seamstresses in the world. Saville Row in London wished they had the talent of the elves that made his attire tonight.

His outfit was based on the military attire of the period he was representing tonight. All of his pack were dressed similarly. Even his female alpha wore the white slacks and red coat, though hers was less resplendent then his. Her words, not his. But they cut the dashing pair.

Next to him, Chrissy was wearing a classic ballgown all in black and trimmed with red lace. But only a fool would think either of them weak.

There was no softness in her features. If Steve looked like he walked off the covers of a Harlequin romance, Chrissy looked like she walked off the cover of a gothic horror romance novel. Her eyes were cold and calculating. Though, her cover would absolutely have a pretty young woman in her clutches.

He looked up as Eddie and Wayne were announced and smiled. Now he knew why Robin was insistent on their looks. Now, Eddie and Steve would match. God, he loved his best friend.

Next to him, Chrissy bristled when Eddie’s friends came up to him as soon as he entered. Steve put his hand over hers.

“Now, now,” he murmured. “The silkie, sirens, and gwyllgi don’t owe the vampires any deference and don’t know Eddie and Wayne are supposed to greet you first. And they will. Just wait.”

Chrissy took a deep breath. “You’re right. My apologies. I’m not used to interacting with the supernatural community at large. Vampires tend to be very insular by nature. Comes with the whole needing to drink blood to survive.”

Steve nodded. Werewolves were the same. But that was the reason for this ball in the first place. To foster those connections with the supernatural beings they went to school with, worked with, lived along side of.

After the showdown that left the coven in tatters and the werewolf pack in chaos, both Chrissy and he thought this would be a good idea to have an occasion to celebrate the community that came together to rid this town of evil.

Halloween and New Year’s Eve had been floated around, but Steve thought the best night to have it would be the winter solstice. It wouldn’t be on the same day of the year and full moon excluded, it held a great significance for many members of the supernatural beings that made up their small town.

And so the Yuletide Ball was born.

It was going great so far. Well, mostly. There was that one incident...but no one was hurt and everything was fine. It was!

~

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Steve and Chrissy. They exuded power in a way that drove him wild. Wayne had that from years of experience, but these two were born to it. Eddie was so glad one was his best friend and the other was his boyfriend.

He was about to go over to them to greet them like he was supposed to, when Gareth and Brian came up to him with their dates. Barb looked stunning in a dress that looked like waves out on the water in various shades of green, while Brian was in a tux and feathered short cape. Gareth wore traditional hunter’s garb with a black fur cloak. His date was another gwyllgi from his pack, a young man named Darren, who was blushing next to Gareth.

“Hey!” Eddie said with a big grin. “You all look great!”

They chatted for a moment before Eddie finally made his way to the center of this and every universe, Steve.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted with a kiss and then bowed to Chrissy. “Your Dominus.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy said as they kissed cheeks. “I’m so nervous right now. A fight almost broke out between Jonathan Byers and Darren Driscoll.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “What happened?”

“Apparently werewolf greeting and gwyllgi greeting are two separate things,” Steve said with a wince. “Only no one was told, so when Darren wouldn’t bare the back of his neck as per werewolf greeting, Jonathan got his hackles up thinking Darren was trying to slight him.”

Eddie blinked at them for a moment. “Oh shit. Yeah, gwyllgi only scent each other if they hadn’t been introduced first.”

“Yup,” Steve said pursing his lips and rocking back on his heels. “Thankfully Gareth dashed between them and explained things before either of them transformed.”

“Thank god for Gareth’s quick thinking, then,” Wayne said, coming up behind Eddie. “We should get Nancy to interview and catelogue all the different set of manners from everyone to avoid that next year.”

Steve smiled. His former female alpha had found herself at loose ends after Robin replaced her and this would help with that. “I think she’d like that a lot.”

Wayne bowed his head to Chrissy. “Your Dominus.”

“Your suggestion is elegant,” Chrissy said in lieu of a greeting. “Would you wish to inform her of it?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Wayne said with a smile. “I’ll go to see to it now.” He bowed his head again and then was gone.

“My apologies, Eddie dear,” Chrissy said, “but I don’t know how Billy tolerated your in his territory for as long as he did. That man is simply too powerful.”

Eddie smirked. “Because it’s not Billy who did the toleratin’, and by extension you. He tolerates you in his territory. He’s been here since the town was seventy settlers, nine vampires, and sixteen werewolves. And I think it’s best you remember that fact.”

Chrissy opened her mouth to protest but found that she couldn’t. She stared at Eddie in shock and then bowed her head.

“Whoever sired your uncle must have been powerful indeed,” she murmured.

Eddie licked his lips slowly and the look on his face sent a shiver down Steve’s spine. Eddie, of course new who his grandsire was. But whoever it was, the young, newly turned vampire wasn’t saying.

Eddie bowed and then turned to Steve. “May I have this dance?”

Steve nodded and let him take him by the hand to lead him out to the dance floor. Unlike the vampires here, he didn’t need to afford Chrissy any deference as he was her equal. They glided together as they moved across the dance floor.

“Is your pack still pressuring you to take a mate?” Eddie murmured into Steve’s ear.

“No,” Steve said fondly, “after the events with Murray and Billy they aren’t keen to see me reproduce. Too afraid that I would imprint my forward thinking views on the new pups.”

“Baby,” Eddie said morosely. “That’s not a good thing. They should be respecting you, instead of this backtalk again. Didn’t they learn anything?”

Steve snorted. “I guess not. I thought that having Robin as my female alpha would help, but it someways I think it’s made it worse. The two outsiders running things.” He shook his head ruefully.

“Especially after you had to expel Tommy from the pack as Keeper,” Eddie murmured. “Thankfully no one had the ill sense to take his side, especially since he went willingly. But the fact that a Keeper hated the alpha so much he turned traitor? Yeah, that’s not a good look.”

Steve pressed his cheek to Eddie and breathed, “They don’t like that I’m dancing with you, either. But somehow Lucas and Max are perfectly fine to be pressed cheek to cheek as they glitter like stars on the dance floor.”

“That’s because I was born to ruffle feathers, darlin’,” Eddie said with a sigh. “Or in their case fur. But you’ll have a long and prosperous reign as alpha and they will either change with the times or leave.”

“I wish I could follow through with my threat and make you my mate,” Steve murmured, “werewolf law be damned.”

“Um...” a voice said timidly behind them, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but there’s no law that says your mate has to be a werewolf.”

Eddie and Steve stopped dancing and turned around. Standing there was a spunky blonde girl with actual fucking ringlets.

“Who are you?”

The girl beamed up at him. “Hi! I’m Suzie Bingham! Dustin invited me.”

Eddie and Steve shared a look of surprise. Dustin had been sent to a science and math camp for werewolves the last part of the summer and had come back with a supposed girlfriend. A girlfriend no one thought existed.

Until now.

“Hello,” Steve murmured. “You’re from the Provo pack, correct?”

“You remembered!” Suzie said brightly. “But about the whole mate needed to be another werewolf is bull crap.”

“And how do you figure that?” Eddie asked eyeing her curiously.

“Mormon werewolves get a bad rap because of the whole polygamy thing,” she said with a wince, “but we’re really good at keeping records.”

Steve rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And what do your records say?”

She beamed up at him. “That the most famous pack in the Midwest had silkie for a mate in the 1840s.”

“Okay,” he hedged nodding with pursed lips. “But I doubt the silkie was male. The point of the alpha is to breed.”

Suzie wrinkled her face in disgust, pulling her chin down to her chest. “Gross. And I thought our family values were messed up.”

“Listen, Suzie was it?” Eddie asked with a feral smile. She nodded, her sunny attitude never dimming for a moment. “Would you please get to the point? Please!”

“Oh!” she said, eyes wide. “Shoot! Right. So the purpose of an alpha male isn’t to breed with the alpha female or any of the women of the pack to breed more werewolves. The point of the alpha is turn people into werewolves to prevent inbreeding. Which brings me to my point. The point of the alpha’s mate isn’t to bring pups into the world but to stand as his second in command.”

“But isn’t that the point of the female alpha?” Steve said, tilting his head in confusion.

Suzie shook her head. “The point of a female alpha is so that the women of the pack have someone to go about problems inherent in being...well female I guess.”

Eddie and Steve stared at her in shock and then glanced at each other.

“I don’t even know where the notion that the female alpha was supposed to be the second in command came from,” she continued to ramble. “Maybe someone looking at wolf packs would be my guess. But werewolves and wolves aren’t the same thing. Even the wolves we turn into tend to be bigger than any beast found in nature. I’m hoping my dad will let me study them so I can compare the two cultures.”

“And would you be willing to tell everyone that?” Steve asked innocently.

“Oh I already have been,” she said with a grin that belied the cute exterior. “Since I got here yesterday, in fact. But you’ve been so busy planning this wonderful party, that I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you that.”

Steve smiled at her. “And will you be joining us for the full moon celebrations on Monday?”

Suzie batted her big blue eyes up at him and smiled so sweet and innocently. “It would be my honor.”

She curtsied and then was off again, probably back to Dustin. Steve watched her go with growing fondness. He looked over at Eddie who was grinning at him.

“What?”

“Are you going to adopt every teenager you meet or just the werewolf ones?” Eddie asked sweetly, leaning into his space.

Steve’s jaw dropped and he nudged him out of his space with his elbow. “Excuse you! Mr. I-Must-Adopt-Every-Lost-Sheep-in-High-School!”

Eddie batted his eyelashes. “Darlin’ I don’t believe I implied that I wouldn’t co-parent with you, I was just wondering how big our brood was going to get is all.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. It was Eddie’s favorite laugh. Eyes screwed up tight, mouth open and wide, his shoulders shaking with genuine mirth.

“Not all of them,” he said when he could catch his breath. “Just that one. Because she’s right, vampires tend to be insular because they have to be, but werewolves shouldn’t be. By their very nature they have to be social.”

Eddie nodded, his lips pressed in a firm line. “And thanks to the former pack going to crazy with the whole killing humans and all and the aftermath of that, for the last fifteen years the former Harrington, now Roane pack have been isolated from other packs.”

“Thanks to Murray,” Steve said rubbing his chin. “But how to convince them that everything they know was fed to them by fucking Wormtongue.”

Eddie kissed him firmly on the lips in the most searing kiss.

“Wow,” Steve said blinking in shock. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“You talked nerdy to me,” Eddie growled. “You said Wormtongue and you got it right. That was so hot.”

Steve blushed.

Eddie tapped Steve’s forehead. “But enough about the pack and all that bullshit. I shouldn’t have brought it up, we’re here to party and not play politics.”

And then as if the musicians Chrissy hired had heard him, the music changed from a minuet to something more upbeat.

Suddenly the floor was flooded with people and they were dancing. Eddie twirled Steve around and Steve laughed as he gracelessly stumbled around in a circle. Even Chrissy and Wayne were out on the floor cutting loose. They made for an odd couple, but they were clearly having fun.

Then Steve spotted him. He was hiding in a corner, sipping on mulled wine and trying to look inconspicuous. Which probably would have worked on every other member of the party, but not Steve.

He whispered in Eddie’s ear that he’d be right back. He beelined it straight for the pillar he was hiding behind.

“Dr. Sam Owens,” he said smoothly, “I was starting to wonder if my invitation had gone awry.”

Sam choked on his wine and started coughing. Steve slapped him on the back until he got his breath back. He looked up at Steve with watery eyes and a half-hearted attempt at a glare.

“I forgot my magic doesn’t work on you.”

Steve chuckled. “Being a Van Helsing really does have its perks. Now why are you hiding here instead of dancing with Wayne instead of Chrissy?”

“I’m not immortal like he is,” Sam muttered, “and if he tried to turn me it would kill us both.”

“Ah.”

Because yeah, Steve got it. As werewolf, he would live a couple hundred years, but Eddie? Eddie would live forever unless someone killed him or he took his own life.

“And quitting the VHS won’t help?”

“No,” Sam said, his glare more effective this time now that he was no longer choking on his wine. “Because if we lost our protections when we left, that would leave us vulnerable to attacks from people who didn’t like us sticking our noses in their business.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Fair enough. But from one hopeless romantic to another, it doesn’t matter how long you have, share it with him. After all nothing is promised.”

Sam nodded.

Steve gave his shoulder a squeeze. “And maybe make a grand entrance, yeah?”

Sam barked out a surprised laugh. “Yeah okay.”

Steve went back to dancing with Eddie, promising him to tell him later what all that was about. They laughed, danced, ate, and drank their way through the night until about halfway through when Sam suddenly appeared at the top of the grand staircase, resplendent in silver and blue. A perfect complement to Wayne’s outfit.

Eddie pointed up at the stairs to Wayne, whose smile took over his face. He walked over to the stairs and reached the base just as Sam did.

“Sam...” Wayne breathed. “You’re here.”

“For you,” Sam murmured, leaning over and kissing Wayne’s knuckles. “May I have this dance?”

And the music changed again to something softer, more tender and dear.

“I’d be honored.”

Steve took Eddie into his arms and sighed happily. “I think this is going to be the best Christmas I’ve had in my life.”

“Yeah baby, how’s that?” Eddie murmured, pressing his cheek against Steve’s.

“Suzie will help straighten out the pack so I can be with you,” he said softly, “Sam and Wayne are back together. Nancy will be writing that supernatural manners book. And the other members of the supernatural community in Hawkins no longer feel like second class to the werewolves and vampires. Really what more could I ask for?”

“That does sound like an amazing Christmas present, baby,” Eddie purred. “Happy Yuletide and Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry, Christmas, Eds.”

~

Tag List: COMPLETED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[demonslayedher]

Yushiro & Takeuchi friendship headcanons

--Takeuchi got through the final battle relatively unscathed, so he is quick to check up on Yushiro in the aftermath. Having just lost Tamayo and still being overwhelmed by everything, Yushiro just wants to hide and be swallowed up by his emotions for a while, so Takeuchi's company was initially unwelcome, but it turns out to be really good for Yushiro and he unloads more than he thought he would. Takeuchi is a little confused and can't put all the pieces together, but he it accepts it pretty readily.

--Takeuchi continues to enforce his friendship and company upon Yushiro, even once Yushiro insists he's fine by himself (with Chachamaru, whom Tamayo especially left to him). Takeuchi can't be dissuaded so Yushiro gives in and lets him hang around.

--If there's one thing Takeuchi knows about demons, it's that they are ravenous for human flesh, so it finds it concerning that Yushiro never seems hungry, so this leads to Yushiro explaining why he's a special case who subsists on small amounts of blood collected in ways that don't harm humans. He doesn't like that he has to consume it at all, though. Takeuchi offers his own blood again; because he was a strong Breath-powered swordsman, consuming his blood would mean Yushiro could subsist on even less blood. Yushiro refuses because he'd rather pay poor people who need the money; Takeuchi has a Corp pension and doesn't need it. (More so, it's because Yushiro would find it too weird to consume the flesh of someone he knows personally.) This is an ongoing bit in their friendship, Takeuchi continuing to offer and Yushiro continually refusing.

--Takeuchi takes up painting (based on a Murata-related headcanon stated in this one-shot about Murata & Giyuu finally getting dinner together), and he's eager to show Yushiro one of his early works. The most beautiful thing he could think to paint was a sunrise, for it was always such a long-awaited moment throughout many battles Takeuchi fought while in the Corp. Then it occurs to him that Yushiro doesn't get to appreciate such a beautiful sight, which is why he wants to give him that painting. Yushiro, too much of a tsundere to accept it, snaps back that no sunrise could ever be as lovely as Tamayo was. Takeuchi, not offended, sadly states that he never saw Tamayo, so he wouldn't know. Now in an awkward position for having snapped at someone who did a nice thing, Yushiro has to follow through and attempt to show Takeuchi what Tamayo looked like by making a painting of her. Yushiro has a natural talent for it, and Takeuchi is stunned and praises his skills, but Yushiro is frustrated by not having managed to capture her beauty or essence. He has to try painting another. And another. And another. And another.

--Since Yushiro has already lived a long time, it's hard to see Takeuchi as an equal at first; he seems like a small child. Little by little, it's like watching Takeuchi grow up. For instance, one night Takeuchi happily announces that he's courting the daughter of an old wisteria house who he was always sweet on, some months later he's heartbroken because she was only dating him out of a lingering obligation to the Corp. Yushiro winds up falling into a lot of self-reflection about how hard it must had always been for Tamayo to see him as anything more than a child, for the gap between them was so large that even feelings as deep and sincere as his own could never overcome it. This is around the time Yushiro starts really accepting the companionship of Takeuchi, Tanjiro, and Kiriya (whom he sees like more of an equal more quickly than he did with others, seeing as Kiriya has experience beyond his years than closes the gap Yushiro feels with others).

--Takeuchi, despite being busy with the never-ending affairs of the human world and eventually raising his own family, always makes sure to pop in on Yushiro, for he knows Yushiro will never go out of his own way to seek company. It has to be forced upon him. Yushiro acts annoyed when Takeuchi visits him, but he is always a gracious host and they spend hours talking together. Chachamaru says hello and accepts some petting from Takeuchi but typically stays on Yushiro's lap. Yushiro doesn't drink it, but he serves Takeuchi black tea in fancy dishes, and they sit around on velvet chairs in a low-lit basement filled with Yushiro's paintings. Takeuchi never stops with his outpourings of praise and wonder for Yushiro's talents.

--Takeuchi brings Yushiro new copies of "The Legend of Zenitsu" so he can laugh and be entertained by Yushiro's scathing reviews of them. Takeuchi doesn't know this, but Zenitsu brought out an inferiority complex Yushiro can't stand to admit even to himself; it drives him mad how Zenitsu could paint Nezuko with such perfection on a first try, and in his defensiveness he insists it's because Zenitsu has the model to look at. Yushiro pulls from years of dedicated observation that has honed his memory, so their works can't even be compared (or at least, that's what he tells himself).

--Takeuchi eventually falls ill, and Yushiro goes out of his way to pay visits to him. Takeuchi tries to stay positive about it, but the frustration of feeling himself get weaker and weaker and his own inescapable mortality do get to him from time to time. He tries to be as brave as the people who didn't survive their battles in the Corp, but it's hard. He jokingly insists that even though he's weak and wouldn't make for an appetizing meal anymore, he wishes Yushiro would just eat him for his own sake now, if it gives Takeuchi some means of living forever. But that's all it is, a joke. Yushiro, having been in Takeuchi's position before, is heartbroken to watch him go through it, but admires Takeuchi for handling it so much more bravely.

--He's not able to say so at first, but eventually Yushiro is able to open up and talk about his own experiences with illness, and how he would never wish it upon anyone, he has no regrets about being a demon, for even without Tamayo, he still has a zest for life.

--It's a long decline, but Yushiro hangs around as a hospice nurse, and especially as a friend. By this time, he and Takeuchi truly feel like equals. After Takeuchi's peaceful passing, Yushiro doesn't really keep in touch with them, but he keeps a special eye on on Takeuchi's descendants.

[mer-se]

Prima facie round two. 5/17 🎭🤍

[spirkbitch]

“you’re telling me Amanda Seyfried was going to try this?” -a real sentiment i have seen multiple times regarding her audition for Wicked

just say you’ve never heard her sing a heart full of love and leave it at that

[no1ryomafan]

hate ever since I finished giant robo yesterday my train of thought hasn’t been a critical analysis of what I consumed despite acknowledging both the show’s strengths and weaknesses and instead going back to my Imagawa Armageddon drama conspiracy board and going “okay no way in fuck he didn’t have Kei as Genki planned after the fucking family drama plot line in giant robo being similar to what we got in arma and it’s likely that the team got away with this idea after he left because they might’ve been in production for ep 4 but had to rewrite it and the show after onwards to fit the new direction”

or in simpler terms my brain activates “how do I make this about getter robo”

[daz4i]

got an ad for a course that looks right up my alley (like, too-good-to-be-true levels of up my alley) and toyed with the idea of possibly signing up. asked my mom what she thinks, including abt the price and such, fully expecting her to shut me down and say it's too expensive or isn't a good direction to take, but no even before i started listing the actual cool stuff you get from it she already got so excited and told me to sign up and that it sounds perfect for me and such. so i guess we'll see

[angelnumber27]

Having a pussy is like having a built in multi tool

[these-are-the-first-steps]

Ok so like.....*sigh*

So like in the show he basically asks her to marry him and she says yes, and they're both like "Promise? Promise!" but she keeps fucking conveniently remembering and forgetting "the promise to mother" like I know he's intoxicating af and it's hard to hold a thought around this man (I also have a very hard time holding a thought looking at him), but pick a goddamn side and have a backbone about it ffs!! Like you can't waffle on people like this girl!! You literally sat here and engaged yourself to this man and then you go off and do THAT???

I would like to note that so far in the (very drastically different) novel, there is no such promise ever made, and she fucks off to the steppe because she's mad at Ning Yi thinking the whole entire time he had just been cozying up as part of a plot to kill her so leaving bought her time, space, and a power base to fight back and he just eats the misunderstanding like "????? fine, come and kill me when you're ready, at least I'll get to see you again, I am ok with this." which makes a bit more sense tbh.

In a loooot a lot of ways, the tv show is about 1000x more polished than the book, but at least the book has fewer slaps in the face like this. They become a bit more obvious on rewatch, especially after pawing through the novel. (I hope the translator finishes it someday!! They picked it up again this past may after two years of nothing so here's hoping!)

[enbysiriusblack]

you're on your own, kid marauder characters:

regulus black

emmeline vance

remus lupin

mary macdonald

peter pettigrew

[tousakamis]

not to kpop on tumblr but i saw someone on tiktok ranking mamamoo in terms of dancing, singing, rapping, stage presence etc ... and they put moonbyul last in every damn category apart from rapping. she did not win a whole singing competition for you to say this istg

[perfectblve]

adding viola to my short list of songs that aren't sad but for some reason make me feel sort of sad

[carnallyricky]

Oh my god he thinks I'm boring doesn't he. He doesn't find me interesting and talking to me feels like a chore im going to kms

[sunni-stuff]

Part 1 This is part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

With the train ride now over, the sergeants ran, scouring the market for two familiar faces. Their footsteps in sync, crunching delicate mounds of white snow. Soap broke through the crowd first, then Gaz and Gary were right with him.

“Where the hell are they?” Gaz pants out, his breaths misting in the cold air.

“You said the marketplace,” Soap huffs.

“Yeah, I said the marketplace, but it's not like I know exactly where they went!” Gaz snaps back.

While the two sergeants bicker, Roach quietly breaks away, scanning the area until he spots the familiar figures they’d been hunting for. Price and Ghost stand outside a cigar shop, deep in conversation. The satisfied grin on Price's face tells Roach everything—he got what he was after.

“They’re over there!” Roach exclaims, snapping his partners out of their lovers' quarrel.

Gaz and Soap go silent, their eyes following Roach’s line of sight until they, too, spot their Lieutenant and Captain.

In a heartbeat, the three of them are sprinting toward their unsuspecting targets. Soap grins like a madman, practically buzzing with mischief, while Gaz shakes his head, both amused and slightly wary of what might unfold. Roach, meanwhile, is simply thrilled to be along for the ride.

They skid to a stop right in front of the two men, chests heaving as they catch their breath in the biting winter air.

“The hell is wrong with you lot?” Price’s voice cuts through, laced with a mix of annoyance and bemusement as he shifts his attention from Ghost to the winded sergeants.

Ghost, arms crossed, eyes them with quiet scrutiny. His winter coat does little to conceal his bulky frame, a silent reminder of his imposing presence as he stands beside Price.

Price and Ghost waited for an explanation, knowing well everytime those three got together, they were definitely up to no good.

Like how they put semi-permanent green dye in Ghost's shampoo for Halloween.

“We… we saw. A kid with your face,” Gaz manages, still catching his breath, pointing straight at Ghost.

Ghost raises a brow, baffled. A kid with his face? What the hell did that mean? Did they think he looked like a baby?

Soap huffs in mock disappointment, shooting a playful glare at Gaz. “Oi, I wanted to say it!”

Predictably, the two dive into another back-and-forth. Gaz isn’t one to shout, but Soap has a talent for riling anyone up.

Price lets their little show go on for only a moment before his stern voice cuts in, slicing through their bickering. “One of you properly explain, or you'll be walking back to base.”

Roach steps up, eager to clarify. “There’s a kid, probably about two, and she looks exactly like the Lt. Scowl, glare, and all!”

Price and Ghost pause, their expressions twisting as they both try—and fail—to imagine a little girl with Simon’s permanent scowl.

Price shudders, shaking the thought from his head. “That is not a face a kid should have.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Gaz chimes in, nodding emphatically.

Ghost throws him an offended look, his usually hardened eyes showing a glimmer of hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” they all exclaim in unison, even Price, who quickly averts his gaze as Ghost’s glare narrows on him.

Ghost huffs, then crosses his arms. “Did you take a picture?”

Soap snorts, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Aye, right, 'cause that wouldnae be creepy at all.”

Ghost stares daggers Into Soap, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the wall. “Okay, then where is she?”

The three stooges lead the charge once again, this time with their Captain and Lieutenant in tow. They weave through the crowd toward the train park, where Soap eagerly scans for the woman and kid he’d spotted earlier. But the line they were in is empty, the pair nowhere to be found.

“Shite. I think they’re gone,” Soap mutters, his Scottish accent thickening in his frustration, the words rolling out with a clipped bite. 

“So the imaginary woman and kid don’t actually exist,” Ghost deadpans, unimpressed.

“They exist!” Gaz insists, voice edging on exasperation.

“Sure,” Ghost replies, his tone flat and thoroughly unconvinced.

Roach snickers, then glances over at Price—only to see him staring slack-jawed through the window of a nearby café, his cigar dangling from his mouth, forgotten.

“Cap?” Roach says, touching the older man’s shoulder.

Price doesn’t look away, nodding toward the café. “Found them.”

Everyone turns toward the café, eyes landing on you and Adira. The little girl is happily weaving between your legs, her tiny hands gripping your coat as she entertains herself, all while you order hot chocolates to fend off the winter chill. A soft smile touches your lips as you watch her play, blissfully unaware of the audience gathering just outside.

The barista, with a warm smile, hands over two cups, one with a little extra marshmallows for Adira, her voice bright as she wishes you both a merry Christmas. You take the cups with a grateful nod, handing one to Adira. She immediately takes her drink, sipping eagerly, her small feet bouncing on her heels from the sugar rush.

“Yummy?” You ask, glancing down at her with a soft smile, a wave of motherly pride swelling in your chest as you watch her delight in the simple joy of her drink.

Adira nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she pulls away from her straw with a satisfied sigh. “Yummy.”

With a soft chuckle, you both leave the warmth of the shop, stepping out into the crisp air. Hand in hand, you walk back toward the park, the world around you feeling peaceful despite the cold. As you reach the crosswalk, you stop, waiting for the light to turn. Adira looks up at you, her little face filled with contentment as she swings your joined hands back and forth, her sugary energy still buzzing.

Across the way, the team stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before them. Everyone but Ghost was struck by how much Adira looked like him—her features unmistakably mirroring his, save for the color of her hair and skin. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped around them.

“She looks nothing like me,” Ghost stated plainly, his voice cutting through the stillness as though it were fact. His expression was unmoving, a wall of stubbornness in his eyes. He was ready to die on that hill.

Then, as fate would have it, a woman walking her dog passed by, and Adira’s cherub-like face hardened into a cold, calculating stare. It was subtle, but unmistakable. 

“Nevermind,” Ghost muttered, his earlier conviction faltering as he watched her shift before his eyes.

“So… you’ve been having fun these past years?” Roach asked, his gaze flicking between Adira and Ghost, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Not that I know of,” Ghost grunted, his eyes still locked on you and Adira, a mix of unease and something else flickering across his face. He couldn’t pull himself away.

“Let’s get closer,” Price commanded, already making his move. Soap and Roach exchanged a shrug, falling in line without hesitation.

“Excuse me?” Gaz sputtered, though his body had already begun moving before his brain could catch up, unable to defy the Captain’s order.

Ghost fell silent, teeth gritted. This wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially not one where he was forced to go in blind. He stood stiffly at the crosswalk, trying to hide his glances, his focus split between the team and you.

Soap ended up the closest, standing just next to Adira. The little girl paused, her big, doe-like eyes lifting from her drink to catch sight of him. The recognition was instant. Her lips pursed into a small line, and her gaze grew heavy with annoyance. 

“Ugee…” she whispered, scooting closer to you.

Soap froze, his mind stuttering for a moment. Did she just—? Did she call me ugly?

Gaz, standing behind him, couldn’t contain himself. A muffled laugh broke through as Soap turned to look at the others, wide-eyed and speechless, completely taken aback.

“Do ye lot think I'm ugly?” Soap asked, his voice thick with disbelief, clearly thrown off by the little girl's words.

“Not the time, Mctavish,” Price said, a tiny laugh tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.

The streetlight flickered green, signaling it was time to move. You adjusted yourself, ready to cross the street. Each member of the team started mentally preparing, unsure of how—or even if—they should approach you. Ghost, however, was the first to make a move, determined to intercept you. But Soap, ever the opportunist, beat him to it.

Ghost wasn’t exactly subtle, and having him try anything would probably send you running in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady from the train?” Soap called out, his voice light, though his intentions were clear.

You paused at his interruption, recognition flickering in your eyes. You remembered the man who bumped into you earlier. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Do you happen to know where I could find Leslies?” Soap asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, though he tried to mask it.

“The pub?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Soap confirmed, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and surprise at your easy response.

You look around for a moment, trying to remember and see the street names of your current location. “Uh…it should be about a couple blocks south from here. They have a big sign, you can't miss it.”

Thank God for Soap, because that one question was all he needed to keep you trapped in a conversation, his charm working its magic as you giggled and chatted away easily, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s attention shifted to Adira. He looked down at her, and she, almost instinctively, looked up at him. Their eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each of them studying the other. The intensity in their gaze was undeniable, both sets of eyes reflecting the same quiet, unwavering strength. It was like looking in a mirror—a mirror that mirrored back his own hardened stare and no-nonsense attitude.

Adira was, quite literally, his mini me. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

“How old are you?” Ghost asked bluntly, his voice low as he kneeled down to Adira’s height, his gaze intense but trying to soften.

Adira paused for a moment, glancing up at you for help, but you were still caught up in conversation with Soap. She turned her focus back to Ghost, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she murmured shyly, “Two…”

She was two. Two. Ghost’s mind raced, trying to piece together the details, but nothing clicked. Nearly three years ago… what had he done three years ago? He kept everything categorized, stored in his mind like a well-organized file system, but this was something that didn’t fit.

Then, Soap’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“You don’t seem like the type of lass to frequent Leslies.”

You giggled, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks at Soap’s question. He wasn’t wrong… at least, not entirely. “I’ve only been to Leslie’s once, and, well… it’s how I ended up with my little blessing.” You glanced down at Adira, the warmth of your smile radiating as you spoke.

Everything shattered in that moment. Ghost’s stomach twisted painfully, his heart skipping a beat as the realization slammed into him like a freight train. Leslie's. Almost three years ago, during that stupid holiday.

His mind began to piece it together, the hazy memories from that night slowly coming into focus. He remembered the bar, the laughter, the way you had caught his attention. You were easy on the eyes, easy to make laugh, and most importantly—unlike everyone else. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, you just let him lead, let him slip into the night with no strings attached.

But now, as he looked at Adira, everything fell into place. The way she stared at him, those familiar eyes, the resemblance he couldn’t ignore. His breath hitched, and the weight of the truth crushed him—she was his daughter.

A knot formed in his throat as he tried to process the fact. Adira. His daughter. The little girl standing before him was his flesh and blood, the result of a moment he'd long since buried in the depths of his mind.

---

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