#but then she’d have grown to find him endearing and actually started to consider him her beat friend after awhile

[coffeebooh]

the flashspell tag being 90% me and 10% other random posts dating from 2012… I’M IN THE TRENCHES FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE

[mae-gi-writes]

Pretty Smitten | Kuroo Tetsurou

Harry Potter x Haikyuu!!

Summary ◇ it's like second nature for Slytherin's beater Kuroo to always find something to tease you about, until his best friends Bokuto and Tsukishima make him realize it might hide something more.

Genre ◇ hogwarts au! Slytherin! Cocky Kuroo x Hufflepuff f!reader, mentions of Bokuto,  Tsukishima, Hinata, Oikawa, Daichi etc...

◇ ◇ ◇

Thwap!

You duck out of the way just in time to evade the bludger that zips across your head, so close you feel it brush against your ear as your broom zooms you out of the way. The wind isn't making it easier as it tugs at your clothes, weighing you down while you keep on flying around the court with eyes as alert as a Hawk's for the disappearing snitch.

In truth, you don't really enjoy Quidditch all that much. It was merely due to the captain of the Hufflepuff Team, Daichi, who cornered you upon having accidentally caught sight of your flying skills one winter afternoon. He'd grown to be one of your close friends though, which always makea it hard to pull out and whenever you do mention that maybe it is time for the team to take in a new Seeker, he'd instantly change the subject.

And you wouldn't have been so adamant on trying to force your way out of the team. If not for a particular raven-haired Slytherin Beater.

Speaking of the devil. There he is, that familiar crooked smirk dangling upon his lips as he lazily flies over to you.

"Y/N, aren't you a little laid back!?" He calls out and you roll your eyes, pushing yourself forward to fly as past away as possible.

Too late. He catches up quickly enough, grin widening as he continues, "I know we said it's a practice match but come on, could've put some more heart into it."

Throwing him a scowl that would've scalded anyone but himself, you accelerate your speed. As expected, he follows, "so I heard from Kenma that you failed your Potions midterm. Not that I'm surprised really, you never really had a talent for--"

"How is that any of your business?" You mutter, adamantly fixing your gaze on Daichi so as not to accidentally push Kuroo off his broom.

What a nice thought indeed.

"Aha, that's where I come in. Fortunately for you, I am quite adept at Potions see. I could teach you," from your peripheral you notice him wriggle his brows and you roll your eyes, "for free."

Your knuckles turn white as they tighten around your broom handle.

"No thanks."

"You sure wanna pass this up?" He suddenly leans a little closer, smirk widening, "you could totally exploit this sexy brain of mine."

"What do you want from me, Kuroo?"

"Nothing much, just your dear old grumpy self," he replies cheerfully.

Your scowl deepens. But the offer is tempting. Potions is the only subject that you cannot get your head around and while you are aware of Kuro’s ginormous, self-inflated ego, you also know from a few of his classmates -- Daichi and Suga-- that he is quite the prodigy at Potions. 

But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction. You don’t want to give him more reason to get cocky and start another round of endless teasing where you’ll never hear the end of it. 

So you just press your lips together and mumble out a, "we'll see."

"Atta girl," and he waves a goodbye, but not before reaching over to ruffle your hair until your ponytail is barely hanging together, and you yelp in anger, having half a mind to really push him from his broom this time only to see him fly away just in time, that crooked chesire cat smile on his face. 

Idiot. 

◇ ◇ ◇

"Hey hey hey,” Kuroo knows without looking that this voice belongs to none other than one of his two best friends, Bokuto Koutarou. It was a surprise really, that him and Bokuto had stuck together throughout all these years, considering that Bokuto was a Gryffindor, and him a Slytherin.

An arm drops onto his shoulder, his best friend’s grey strands tickling Kuroo’s cheek, “I saw Y/N today. She looked cute.” 

The Slytherin Beater snorted, “Cute is an overstatement.” 

“Ah Kuroo, seems you’re as oblivious as always,” Bokuto let out a heavy sigh as he plopped himself onto the library bench next to him, “do you realize that you spend more time in the library just so that you can see her?” 

“Bullshit. I come to the library to study,” the raven-haired man gestures towards his Defence of Dark Arts book currently sprawled out before him, which causes Bokuto’s eyebrow to raise in curiosity, “like hell you’re actually studying. Now tell me,” he leans closer, voice dropping to a murmur, “do you like her?” 

Kuroo’s brain actually backfires. He bursts out laughing, “what?!” he exclaims so loudly that it earns the pair a few glares thrown their way, to which they silently bow their heads in apology. 

Bokuto turns back to him, “Wow, Tsukki was right. You are thicker than you seem to be, despite that brain of yours.” 

"What?” Kuro frowns as he protests, “I’m not thick. And--you guys talk about me behind my back?!” 

“Of course we do,” Bokuto rolls his eyes as if it’s obvious before settling his chin into his palm, “especially since we’re curious as to why you enjoy spending your time with that little Hufflepuff mouse of yours--” 

“She’s not mine, and I definitely don’t enjoy spending time with her,” Kuroo can feel the heat travel all the way to his face, blossoming through his cheeks as embarrassment curls in his stomach, “I just--”

“You just like seeing her face.”

Both men turn towards the new alto to see the Ravenclaw prefect, Tsukishima, pull out a chair to sit himself opposite Kuroo before taking out his piece of parchment and ink. 

“Not you too?” Kuroo groans, head dropping to his book.

“Also, you might want to stop flirting with her while we’re on the Quidditch pitch,” Tsukishima continues nonchalantly without looking at him, long fingers turning through the pages to find the section he’s looking for, “I almost got my arm torn off by that Bludger, no thanks to you.”

"I wasn’t flirting with her.” 

“I don’t care. Just don’t do it during practice. It’s annoying,” the blonde smirked at Kuroo’s frustrated expression. 

“I was only asking whether she’d like some help with potions. Kenma told me she failed her last midterm. I was trying to be nice.” 

“Oh? Not because you actually wanted to spend more time alone with her?” Bokuto wriggled his brows suggestively, cackling like a crow when Kuroo responded by shoving his shoulder, “no! I don’t even see her that way. She’s not my type--”

“Oya oya oya, speaking of the devil,” Bokuto’s hand plonks onto Kuroo’s hair before twisting it in the direction of the library entrance. A second later, you appear looking a little disgruntled, if not mad.

Realizing that Bokuto’s hand is still weaved into his hair, Kuroo bats it away with more violence than necessary, which gets him a pointed look from Tsukishima’s golden orbs that he responds with a scowl of his own. But before he can voice out how annoyingly invested the pair seemed to be in his love life, he feels a hand tapping him on his shoulder.

Surprise causes him to frown at the sight of you. 

“If it isn’t my dear little Hufflepuff,” Kuroo’s mouth widens in that signature smirk while crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with?” 

“Kenma told me that you’d be here,” you say.

“Mhm?” 

“And I--” you bite your lip before averting your eyes and something in Kuroo stirs because goddamn he’s quite excited about what will fall from your mouth next. But he keeps his silence, waiting for you to battle it out with your pride, “I was wondering whether the offer still stands. For--tu--tutoring.” 

Your cheeks are blazing red at this point but Kuroo finds it somewhat adorable, what with the fact that you are dressed in an oversized Hufflepuff sweater that basically swallowa you whole. 

He forces his expression into a somewhat amused smirk, a little coy, just enough for you to get flustered, “what made you change your mind?” 

“My grades.” 

In the background, Tsukishima snorts. You flush a deeper red if that’s even possible.

“Alright, sure,” Kuroo grins up at you, mischief swimming in those golden feline orbs, “but on one condition.” 

“I thought you said it was free.” 

“I decided it’d be more fun to have you indebted to me.” 

Letting out a heavy sigh, you press your lips together, “what then? What do you want?” 

“I’ll let you know the details later,” he grins at you, “still haven’t figured it out yet.”

A few beats of silence pass between the two of you as you consider his offer, and he can certainly see the way your own pride measures up against your desperation, the way your orbs display your uneasiness as clearly as crystal water. It’s impossible for you to lie, but Kuroo hasn’t noticed how endearing it is, up until now.

And then, he hears Bokuto’s voice in the back of his mind: 

Do you like her? 

Kuroo blinks. Of course he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t. He does not.

Right? 

“Fine,” your voice brings him out of his inner turmoil, “we have a deal.” 

◇ ◇ ◇

If someone had ever told you that one day you’d be sitting by Kuroo’s side to spend more than three hours sticking your noses into your Potion’s back, and actually enjoying it, you would’ve burst out laughing in their faces.

But that is exactly what you are doing right now. And no one is laughing. Definitely not you.

To be fair, Kuroo is not that bad of a tutor. He actually gets pretty into it once he calms down from his teasing high, which is quite a surprising feat considering that you have never seen him serious whenever you were around. It’s always about pricking you with his comments, saying stuff that will get under your skin just enough to get a reaction out of you. 

The first time you met up in the library, you had mentally prepared yourself so that you wouldn’t murder him halfway into the lesson. Your Hufflepuff counterparts had definitely been surprised, not just because your personalities and houses couldn’t have been more different if they tried, but because Kuroo had a reputation of a playful troublemaker, the kind that you usually stayed away from at all costs. 

“Are you sure this isn’t a trap, Y/N?” Your other close friend and classmate, Nishinoya Yu, had lifted his knife into the air with an aggressive swipe, “I can come with you and stab him if ever he does something--”

“Noya-kun I think I can stab him myself,” you reassured him through a mouthful of cereal. 

“Kuroo’s not all that bad,” Daichi had suggested tentatively, though you’d snorted in response. Yeah right, not all that bad? That was a word you could not associate with Kuroo Tetsurou. 

“If he pisses you off too much just ignore him,” Kenma had simply stated when you sought out his point of view on the matter, which seemed quite logical, a suggestion that you definitely took into consideration as you’d marched towards the library doors.

But all your efforts had been in vain. Sure, Kuroo had been his usual teasing self, ruffling your hair too many times that you could count and constantly snickering into his palm whenever you got your potions and terms all mixed up. But to your ultimate surprise, he’d been quite attentive to your needs and constantly fact-checked whether you’d understood the concept before continuing his explanation. More often times than none, you had found yourself gazing at his features as a realization settled deep into your mind; that Kuroo wasn’t all that bad looking after all, and that there was some kind of charm to his messy bed of raven hair and that smirk that seemed to infuriate you to no end. 

He’d even accompany you back to your dorm whenever you ended late albeit the fact that Slytherin and Hufflepuff weren’t that far apart. The chivalry touched you, despite it coming from the Slytherin Beater.

“Who would’ve thought the almighty Kuroo would be walking me to my door,” you comment on the first night it happens as you reach the said portrait leading to the Hufflepuff dormitory, “how surprisingly romantic of you.” 

You look up at him and your eyes can’t help but trace the span of his shoulders, taking note of his height and-- has he always been this tall? He’s a giant in comparison to your tiny figure of one hundred and sixty-three centimetres.

He merely chortles at your statement, “please, romance comes naturally to me,” he gestures his hands with extravagance to prove his point.

"Sure, big guy. If reciting off science puns at me counts as being romantic.” 

“Oi! They’re funny okay!? You laughed.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re pitiful.” 

He shoves your head to the side playfully in response and you yelp, hands flying up to fix your ponytail for the nth time that night, “stop touching my head or I might think it’s your fetish or something.” 

“Even if it was, yours would be the last I’d be attracted to.” 

You chuckle, “try harder Kuroo. Your comebacks suck.” 

“Oh shut up midget.”

“Who’re you calling a midget?!”

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been spending a lot of time in Kuroo’s presence that he grows on you, or maybe it’s the fact that he might not be as bad as you thought he was. But it turns out to be more comfortable to spend time hanging out with him, familiar in ways and yet exciting, thrilling. He’s a jungle of adrenaline and filled to the brim with jokes that are more lame than funny, and yet there’s some kind of comfort to know that he isn’t as unapproachable as you first thought him out to be. 

True to his word, Kuroo is quite brilliant at potions, and quite brilliant at sharing his knowledge in a way that actually makes sense. His natural flair of leadership and sympathetic understanding -- minus the jokes and the incessant teasing -- makes you wonder why he hasn’t been chosen as Quidditch Captain. 

When you ask your question out loud during one of your study sessions, Kuroo only smirks, “are you complimenting me?” 

“Just answer the damn question, Kuroo.”

"Jeez, aren’t you a little aggressive for a Hufflepuff?” he peeks at you from behind his raven bangs, “or should I call you..huffie puffie?” 

You flick his forehead and he yelps, “lame,” you deadpan, “answer me.” 

"They did ask me,” he says, leaning back to stretch out his long arms while you try not to focus on the sinewy veins of his forearms, “I refused.” 

His answer surprises you, “Why?” 

“Because Oikawa wanted it. You know him right?” 

Who didn’t know of Oikawa? He’s a walking prince, struts around Hogwarts like its’ his private garden with his endless servants in tow. 

"That’s it? That’s your reason?” 

“He’s my friend. Wouldn’t be fair to him if I stole the limelight.” 

“...are you sure you’re not secretly a Hufflepuff?”

“You mean a huffie puffie?” 

He ducks just in time to avoid your slap, cackling like crazy until one of the prefects swat you with one of their books upon passing by.

“No, I assure you I’m not a huffie puffie,” his smirk mellows out into a grin before his chin comes to a rest upon his palm, “and plus, I’m not cute enough to be in that house.” 

Heat springs through your cheeks. Is that a compliment or an insult? You’re not quite sure. 

You decide to play along anyway, “yeah you’re right. You’re not cute enough.” 

That does nothing to deter him however, as he keeps gazing down at you with those molten gold pupils half-closed with tenderness, almost lazy, which makes you feel like squirming in your seat. 

“What?” you bark out as you look away, “stop staring. You’re acting like a creep.” 

Chuckling and clearly not flustered by the fact that you’ve just caught him red-handed, the raven-haired Slytherin leans even closer, relishing in the way your face turns a bright scarlet. You lean away, slightly panicked, "wh--what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh nothing, just...” and with movements too quick to comprehend, you feel his fingers gently brushing against a stray strand of hair previously stuck to your lip. 

“So, as I was saying before you interrupted me,” and Kuroo proceeds to drone on about the equal amount of hair needed for the polyjuice potion, not minding the fact that you are practically burning as red as a fire engine while your heart seems to be racing like you’ve just an entire lap around the Quidditch field. 

I’m tired, you chant inwardly, I’m just tired. 

There’s no way your heart can be beating for someone like Kuroo Tetsurou.

◇ ◇ ◇

Kuroo is in deep shit and he knows it.

To be fair, he wouldn’t have been if not for an annoyingly stubborn Gryffindor paired with the dry sarcasm of a particular Ravenclaw that would constantly pass him subtle remarks about the indefinite amount of time he seems to be spending with a certain Hufflepuff Seeker.

“Did you tell her yet? When are you gonna tell her?! Can we be there?! Can we--” Kuroo groans and hides his face a little deeper in his arms at the breakfast table, knowing full well that reprimanding his friend will only cause the latter to double his volume. And granted, Kuroo does not want an audience, not this morning. Especially not when he is minutes away from facing you in the Quidditch field.

And as if that’s not bad enough, Tsukishima has this obnoxious smirk on his face ever since he’s joined them at the table, eating his cereal with unreasonable gusto for someone who finds eating troublesome.

"I’m surprised you figured it out this fast,” the said blonde had stated last evening as the trio sat, huddled around a makeshift magic fire in the Boy’s Prefect Bathroom. It had become their usual hiding spot over the years. 

Kuroo had opted for sipping onto his beer as he recalled the particular moment where he’d felt like he was floating on cloud nine. It had been that very morning itself where you had just gotten back your Potions test and without an ounce of hesitation, had bounded up to the Slytherin table during lunchtime, for once not minding the fact that there were a troop of Slytherins engulfing the raven-haired man on each side.

“Kuroo!” You’d shouted with such enthusiasm that your voice was almost unrecognizable, “Kuroo!” 

But Kuroo had recognized it, turning just in time to catch your excited figure in his arms. Surprise flitted over his face at your bold move but it didn’t seem like you cared at that particular moment, practically squealing while shoving your test in his face. 

“I did it! I got a B minus! That’s the best I’ve ever done in Potions so far!” you babbled in excitement, “you should’ve seen Snape’s face!” 

“Uh--that’s great, Y/N--” good lord, his hands had slipped onto your waist, right along your hip bone and his breathing stuttered at how close you were, “g--good job.”

At this point you had probably realized your compromising position but before you could scramble out, a teasing alto rung through the air:

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Tetsurou?"

Both your heads snapped at none other than Oikawa, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement, a smirk painted over his lips. You pinked as Kuroo barked out, "shut it, Oikawa."

"S--Sorry," you moved away so quickly that coldness swooped in through Kuroo's fingers, though he wished he could pull you right back.

And that, that had been like a slap in the face. Cold reality rushing through him as his heart throbbed.

Uh oh.

"Don't be such a wimp Kuroo," Bokuto'a alto brings him back to reality and Kuroo blinks, faced with none other than his best friend's grin, "where'd your confidence go now that you actually have a chance?!"

Kuroo doesn't bother replying. It's hard enough to face you without melting in a puddle of heat, how is he supposed to confess at this rate?

As the trio make their way to the Quidditch pitch, the Slytherin Beater’s eyes easily found you amidst the swarm of Green and Mustard yellow and he raised his hand up in mock salute, heart melting slightly at the shy nod you replied him with before looking away, cheeks flushed.

So cute.

“Now now, Tetsu-chan, not the time to be flirting with your girlfriend,” he feels a hand slap him on his back a little too harshly, causing him to throw a scowl at his Captain. Oikawa merely pulls out his tongue in response, before motioning him to take his place.

He forces your face out of his mind while climbing onto his broom, momentarily closing his eyes to focus on the cheerful chants coming from the bleachers. The Quaffle is thrown into the air, followed by the whistle. 

He kicks off so quickly from the ground that he’s a mere blur of silver and emerald zipping through the air, bat at the ready while his eyes dart back and forth. Kuroo spots a Bludger heading straight for one of his chasers and quickly veering off in the same direction, he swings his bat back, lunges forward--

Thwap!

The distant ache reveberates through Kuroo’s arm, but the smirk of satisfaction is obvious on his face. He proceeds onwards, forcing himself to keep his concentration on the balls so that his thoughts aren’t invaded by your presence, by the way you smile, or the blush on your cheeks--

Focus! He shakes his head. He swears he could use a good bashing on the head. He’ll never hear the end of it with Oikawa if he doesn’t do his job right.

A yell tears through the pitch.

“Watch out!” 

Kuroo’s head whips around on instinct. He doesn’t even have time to react as he spots the Bludger flying from the other end of the pitch and heading straight towards--

You. 

No. Blood drains from Kuroo’s face. He doesn’t think, doesn’t even second-guess his movements. He pushes forward onto his broom against his protesting muscles, against the voices that shout out his name in protest as the entire pitch turns into a cacophony of horrified yells and cries to get out of the way, get out of the way before--

A sickening crunch is heard and horror strikes him straight in the chest the moment he sees your body crumble, lips parting in a silent scream. 

Kuroo’s heart shatters into a million pieces.

◇ ◇ ◇

Warm.

It’s so warm. You don’t feel like waking up. But instinct kicks in and you groan, an echo of pain jogging through every muscle in your body. It feels like you’ve just been run over by a truck and forcing your eyelids to peel open against the drowsiness, it takes a few seconds for you to register that this isn’t your room. 

Fresh laundry sheets, the sound of disinfectant in the air...This is no doubt the Hospital Wing.

You try to sit up but a muffled groan echoes through your throat when pain flares up on your right side. Jesus christ, you did really get run over by a truck. 

That’s when your gaze suddenly falls upon a mop of dark raven hair, feel the warmth of a calloused palm holding onto your free hand. 

And suddenly, you’re wide awake.

With the dark emerald cape hanging off his back and with his tousled bird’s nest of hair, it’s almost shockingly obvious that this is Kuroo. His face is currently buried in his other arm, which gives you the courage to reach out to gently rest your hand upon his head.

As if sensing your movements, the said raven-haired Slytherin lets out a soft groan of his own. Your hand instantly whips away and you watch, with a mixture of confusion and surprise, as his golden orbs blink away the sleep before they slowly come to focus. 

His breath hitches as you murmur out, “hey?” 

"Y--You’re awake?” He murmurs so low you barely make sense of his words, and before you can respond, the man has grabbed hold of your hands before bringing them to his lips, “Jesus christ, Y/N, I--I seriously thought--”

Your pulse only quickens, heart tugging with emotion when you catch sight of the wetness in Kuroo’s golden orbs. What? 

What is going on?

This Kuroo is not the one you are used to, looking like he’s unraveling at your very feet. In any normal circumstances, you would’ve definitely taken this advantage to tease him mercilessly, but that’s clearly impossible. You can’t do that to him, not when he’s gazing down at you like you’re worth a thousand paintings.

The thought makes your heart quiver in your chest. Warmth curls through your stomach.

“What...” you rasp out, “happened?”

“A bludger. Came out of nowhere. Headmaster thinks it got tweaked somehow, some stupid prank,” he is searching your eyes, reading your facial expressions like he’s worried you might drop dead any second. 

“Kuroo," you call him gently, “I’m fine.” 

And to your utmost surprise, the raven-haired Slytherin’s eyes flutter towards your hands, lips peppering a rain of kisses along your knuckles. They leave a trail of heat that causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, “Wha--”

“I thought I'd lost you, Y/N. Don't--" his voice chokes up, gaze running up to lock with yours, "don't ever scare me lile that. Fuck, kitten, what would I have done--"

Your own breath hitches. Your eyes grow wide.

Kuroo seems to realize the same thing, hand slapping over his mouth in shock.

"What--" you splutter out. Suddenly, all your pain is forgotten, "did you call me?"

Kuroo swallows thickly as the silence settles between you two.

Then, he breaths in slow and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before opening them back to lock eyes with yours.

What swims in his golden feline pupils makes your breath catch.

"I like you," he murmurs, "I've liked you for a while but was too much of a coward to say it. And I guess-- seeing you so hurt scared me. I don't think I've ever been so scared before."

Your skin is basically burning at this point, a volcano of feelings bursting inside you that makes you want to crawl into a hole and hide there forever. But Kuroo's eyes, despite having the slightest tinge of blush littering his cheeks, is still latched onto your features. Unwavering, probing. Questioning.

He likes you.

He likes you.

"You mean--like? As a--"

"More than a friend," he simply says.

Your mouth opens into a small silent Oh.

You don't know what to say. What to do.

Because in truth, if you really have to be honest with yourself, your heart definitely beats for this particular Slytherin. For god knows whatever reason, he’s been on your mind and in your heart for a few weeks now. 

You wish to say something. Anything. But your throat is dry. You cough it out, swallow and slowly let out a soft breath before your orbs slowly flutter to your lap, to your hands that Kuroo has grasped so tenderly in his hold.

“The feeling--” you gulp back your pride, “the feeling is mutual, I guess.” 

You don’t have to look at Kuroo to know that there’s a huge grin that blossoms across his face and not even a second later you’re rewarded another rain of kisses upon your knuckles. Gasping slightly at his boldness, his grin mellows out into that teasing smirk you know so well, though it does bring about a few butterflies roaming through your stomach.

“Ooh, mutual now is it?” Kuroo’s smirk broadens like a cat about to go for a chase and you squirm in your bed, hating how quickly the tables have turned, “weren’t you the one blushing like an idiot just a few seconds ago?!” you splutter out as a miserable defence.

He merely cackles though, leaning in so close that you yelp, “remember about my condition for tutoring you?” 

He’s so close that your noses bump into each other. It doesn’t help your heart from running an erratic race inside your chest.

You scramble for coherence, “w--what about it?”

“I figured out what it is.” 

"What?” 

You try -- and fail -- to lean away when Kuroo’s hand slips up to cradle the side of your cheek, and your body reacts like wildfire, troops of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his tender caress.

“Let me kiss you?” Kuroo mumbles out with a hoarse alto, so hoarse it makes you shiver and your toes to curl in delight, spurred on by the words that have just left his mouth.

Gold pupils meet yours. Then, your head dips into a shy nod.

Kuroo’s mouth is warm, and soft, and pleasant. He kisses you slowly, gently, like he’s afraid you’d run away if he pressed on too quickly. You’re not used to it, but you feel like it can grow on you. The way your body relaxes into the kiss has the raven-haired man more confident. His thumb traces your cheek while he slants his head a little more to capture your bottom lips with his own, sucking slightly. 

You gasp at the sensation and he smirks -- just barely -- and proceeds to kiss you a little deeper. Deep enough, firmly enough that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

“Cute,” Kuroo mumbles against your lips, retracting so that you can breathe. You haven’t realised up until now, that your hands have made their way to the back of Kuroo’s cloak to tug him closer, or how the said man is literally half-sprawled across your hospital bed. 

That is, until you hear a certain voice shout out:

“Oya Oya! What do I see here?!” 

[cherry-gemz]

Open Book: Part I

Summary: As the Assistant Librarian for a small town in Florida, you find yourself intrigued with an extraordinary little girl and her charming uncle. As each day goes by, you teach the girl about adventure and mystery with your love of books. Little do you know what's in store for you next.

Pairings: Y/N and Frank Adler

Rating: PG, all fluff

Word count: IDK, failed at the assignment 2k+ lol. So I split the fic.

Challenge Prompt: Write a story about someone trying to find the perfect birthday gift.

A/N: Happiest of birthdays dear @a-little-counter-esperanto. You are the bees knees and really a true gem! I'm so happy we've become friends - we have so many things in common it's cray. I'm wishing you all the love and happiness, sunshine! May you continue to have a fantastic birthday sleepover and enjoy being loved by all! Hope you enjoy the fic xx - Cherry

"Did you get the flowers?" Mary asked as she sat on the couch flipping through the tv.

Frank patted his chest and then his jeans in search of his keys.

"What?"

Mary kept changing the channels without a beat,"Frank. You're supposed to buy a girl flowers on the date."

Frank furrowed his brow, "Uh...no. Have you seen my keys? Really?"

Mary rolled her eyes, "She's not gonna kiss you goodnight."

He searched on the kitchen table and rummaged through old mail when a knock at the door interrupted his concentration. As he bee-lined to the door, Mary turned off the tv and hopped off the couch to grab her latest book she'd chiseled her way through for the week.

Frank swung the door open abruptly and started you as you stood at their doorstep.

"Hey! You made it, great!" Frank exclaimed. "Sorry, my head's a mess."

Mary now situated herself at the kitchen table and shouted over her shoulder, "It's because he hasn't been on a real date in over six months."

Frank turned red," What? No...I mean yes, but jeez, Mary. Remember we talked about how to read a room?"

He turned back to you, "Come in, come in. I'm just trying to find my keys."

You chuckled and nodded to the doorknob which held his set of keys and he smacked his forehead.

As you walked into the house, you noticed little knickknacks here and there on shelves. And books. Mountains of books everywhere. Piling on top of each other.

"Hi Mary," you smiled as she kept her back to you, nose deep in her book.

"Mary…" Frank scolded as he put his hands on his hips.

"Hi, Ms. Y/N."

You smiled as you approached her, "May I sit?"

She nodded in agreement and you pulled out a chair.

"I brought you something…" you say as you rummage through your canvas bag for your book on crabs. "Well, actually I was hoping you could help me...see…"

Frank smiled as he saw the two of you bonding. He caught himself admiring you more than he'd like to admit as he needed to head off to his date soon. He appreciated your assistance with babysitting Mary as the two of you first met at the local library. His date, Justine, was a waitress at the bar he would visit from time to time. While there was a chemistry between them, it was really just through vanity. With you, he had come to know you at a deeper level: the way you’d squint or furrow your brow when reviewing your clipboard. Or how adorable you’d look chewing on the cap of your pen when trying to finalize an email at your desk. He saw that you loved the color yellow, considering how many skirts and cardigans you’d paired together. And that you were a romantic at heart - the classics were your fave to read and how’d you get lost in historical facts when he had first asked you what your hobbies were. Seeing how a beautiful person you were, inside and out, he now regretted asking Justine out with you on his mind.

Mary's eyes scanned the books of quantum physics and mathematics. At first you thought perhaps she had another book instead, but as you watched her day in and day out, you were astounded at the tiny prodigy and her ability to ascertain such knowledge at her age. You'd correct the cataloging errors for the day and find her reading for enjoyment it seemed.

Then one day Frank arrived. Mary had always left on her own, but as if it were any old regular day, the handsome uncle came to retrieve his stellar niece. He had a warmness to him. His dark brown hair and beard complemented his face, one that was obvious in an overall attractiveness. And he was kind, he showed that by adopting his niece after her mother had passed away and truly nurturing her gifted talent. You learned he fixed boats for a living and lived not too far from the library. You smiled at the odd pair together, they somehow seemed to work however.

As you checked their books out, Mary tiptoed over the large walnut desk and glanced at you.

"You're pretty," she stated.

"Mary. What did we say?" Frank tsked, embarrassed, but didn't disagree with her observation.

"What? Frank, you told me that I need to state facts, rather than assumptions. And I am stating a fact that Ms. Y/LN is pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Frank?"

Frank coughed into his fist and blushed, you smirked, half wanting to know his answer, half laughing inside of how Mary was so blunt.

"Yes, Ms. Y/LN is very pretty," he replied and gazed at your eyes. He licked his lips and you had to turn away feeling flushed. You closed the last book and placed it in Mary's backpack.

"All set," you replied. "These are due on the 23rd."

Frank zipped up the backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. "Thanks, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh?" You replied as Mary looked at you both attempting to assess the flirtation occuring before her eyes.

"Well, yeah, she loves it here, I mean. And we have a few other books to return."

"Yes, we'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mary."

"Bye," Mary replied and skipped off.

Frank showed up every day after that. You found it endearing, but not wanting to read into something that wasn't there, you focused your attention on Mary. That only seemed to peak his interest further. While he had a knack for attracting women, his heart was never in it for the long haul since the minute they found out about Mary, they'd either run away from the possible responsibility, or Mary would run them off herself. But with you it was different. You were genuine and kind to Mary. Knowing quite well of her mathematical abilities, you would challenge her in other areas: art, zoology, history. You found that while she could read more college level books than any person you met in the small town, she still was a child wanting to learn about all other aspects of life. You'd sit together at a table: you, reviewing inventory spreadsheets for the latest book fair and her, immersed in some book that would put you to sleep at night.

"Frank, you should ask Ms. Y/LN out," Mary stated one day as the three of you sat at a table together. Frank practically choked and you shook your head, secretly wanting to say yes.

"Aw, Mary. Well, I bet Ms. Y/LN has guys lined up at her door every night."

"No, she doesn't," Mary replied as she turned a page of her book. Frank laughed and placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, pretending to shake her.

"Well, actually Ms. Y/LN…" he said as your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N," you interrupted. "You can call me Y/N. I feel we're on a first name basis now considering you're here everyday."

“Y/N,” he smiled. His hair was more combed today. You had noticed that he seemed to be disheveled when you first met him, however either Mary’s tactics were rubbing off on him, or it was your pure imagination.

“Yes?” you piped. You haven't been regularly dating lately. There just weren’t many prospects these days. Not ones that could keep up with conversation, let alone intellect. So instead, you found yourself immersed with your favorite fictional characters in the sea of books you’d grown to know and love.

His brow furrowed, he seemed nervous and he picked at the edge of a book as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

“Do you have a favorite book?” Mary interrupted as Frank turned to her, but seemingly glad she saved him from embarrassment.

“Do I have a favorite book? Hmmm...” you thought and a childish smile appeared on your face. “I have many favorite books, Mary...The Velveteen Rabbit, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe…”

“Yeah, but what’s like your most favorite book?”

You extended your hand out to her and she willingly accepted. Frank perked up his interest as he watched the two of you scamper off into the fiction area. Curious, he stood up and decided to follow. The two of you giggled quietly as you made your way around the columns, your free hand lightly ghosting over the spines of the books. The subtle scent of paper and dust permeated Frank’s sense of smell. He was more of an outdoorsy person nowadays as he had left behind his scholarly days teaching in Boston. It’s where Mary learned most from, his appetite to keep learning, vernacular, and wit . You slowed down and perused a row until you found your favorite book.

“Aha!” you exclaim and hid the book behind your back as Mary jumped up and down with excitement. “Now, I’m not sure if this is something you’d be interested in, it’s more for ten year olds in my opinion. However, I know you’re a very mature young lady and I find that you’d quite enjoy the story if you give it a chance.”

Frank smiled, perplexed as to what book could possibly be your favorite. You pulled the book from behind and showed Mary.

“Little Women,” she stated. “By Louisa May Alcott.”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful story, really. About sisters and the trials they endure during the American Civil War. There’s friendship, love, and growth.”

Mary bunched her nose, you could tell she was on the fence about whether she’d enjoy a story about fictional sisters and yucky love stuff. You started to pull it away, however she grabbed it from your hands. You laughed and looked at Frank who leaned onto the columns and folded his arms.

“Seems someone is wanting to expand their horizons,” he chuckled.

“So it seems,” you smiled back as Mary skipped off to return to the table leaving the two of you behind.

“I’m more of a Lord of the Rings man myself.”

“Really?” you responded playfully. “The Hobbit included, right?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I think I actually just read that one to be honest, I just wanted to impress you. I spent my time reading Calvin and Hobbes more, probably how Mary learned my sarcasm.”

You laugh and touch his forearm as a reflex, but quickly realize and pull away. The spark that you felt when you connected was undeniable. You felt butterflies with him standing next to you and you hoped he hadn’t noticed your inability to remain calm.

“Y/N…” he started to say nervously. “Would it be alright if I called ya? Maybe we can get together sometime?”

“Oh, umm,” you replied, caught off guard. While you definitely had caught feelings for the handsome man, you never would have thought it’d be reciprocated. You stuttered, trying to gather your response.

Your hesitation threw him off, and he quickly replied, “I mean...like to sit for Mary or whatever. She really likes you.”

“Of course...yes,” you reply defeated in hopes that he would have asked you out. Instead of asking why he didn’t, you started to walk back to Mary. Frank scrunched his face in frustration in knowing he missed his shot with you and blurted out the most platonic question instead. He realized as well and quickly shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and followed your lead.

Frank watched as you comfortably plopped yourself next to Mary on the couch, dreading that he had to meet up with Justine. He’d much rather relax on the couch with you and the rugrat, enjoying some silly kids movie together.

You peered over the couch, “Is it okay if she has popcorn?”

“What? Yes,” Mary said flatly and jumped off the couch to the kitchen.

“Okay, miss. But not too much sugar. Bedtime is still at 9,” Frank replied as you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s the weekend, Frank,” Mary called out from the kitchen.

“Yes, but-“

“Will you be late?” you asked.

He looked at you in surprise, “Um, no. Probably before ten?”

“Okay, have fun.”

“It’s Y/N’s birthday,” Mary replied, carrying two coke bottles and a bag of jelly beans.

You shook your head in regret of ever telling the child when your birthday was. She was so inquisitive that day, asking about all your favorites: food, animals, books, and now birthday.

“It’s your birthday?!” Frank asked.

“Yeah, no big deal.”

“How old are you?” Mary asked as she set the drinks on the coffee table and then remembered how Frank would scold her about leaving water rings. She grabbed the coasters and placed them under the bottles.

“Mary!” Frank detested and placed his hands on his hips.

“How old do you think I am?” You tease, waving off to Frank that it was okay.

“Older than Justine, that’s for sure. She said she was 24, but looks 34. But she acts like she's 12. She hasn't even read anything on quantum physics, she thought wave mechanics was something Frank was working on with a boat,” she said coolly and popped a few jelly beans into her mouth. She nestled herself back into the couch cushions and wiggled her feet.

“Mary Elizabeth!” Frank’s voice boomed as he entered the living room.

Mary leaned over to whisper to you, “Frank says I'm not supposed to correct older people. Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“And a busy body,” he huffed.

You nodded and laughed quietly, entertained at his expense.

“Well I am 32,” you smiled and looked at your watch, “As of one hour ago as a matter of fact.”

“That’s good. You’re much more mature than Justine and a better fit for him. Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Mary…that’s it. You’re on your last warning,” Frank bellowed. “Don’t make me let Y/N go home and then you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“What? No! Okay. I’m sorry,” she lamented and folded her arms.

Frank’s demeanor changed as he turned to you, “I hadn’t known it was your birthday. Don’t feel pressured to sit for her tonight if you have other plans.” Secretly he wanted to cancel on Justine and spend the night celebrating you instead.

“Oh it’s okay! It kind of appeared out of nowhere. I usually go back home and celebrate with friends and family, but my schedule didn’t permit it this year. Next year, perhaps.”

“What’s your favorite dessert?” Mary asked as she chewed on another handful of jelly beans.

“Red velvet cheesecake,” you smiled. “I have a sweet tooth.”

Frank couldn’t concentrate on his date with Justine. His mind was elsewhere. On you. Justine grazed her hand as they sat next to each other at the bar. He seemed unfazed by her gesture and looked at his watch, 9:14pm. Would it be too obvious if he cut the date short that he was into you? He coughed and took a swig of his beer.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” She cooed and bit her lip in anticipation.

“What? Oh actually I was gonna head out. The sitter needed me home by 9:30,” he lied.

“Oh, sitter?”

“Yeah, Mary. Remember? My niece?”

“That’s right. How old is she again?”

“Seven,” He said, annoyed. He recalled they had met once before. The bartender approached them and handed Frank the receipt.

“Hey, do you have any desserts on the menu?”

Justine’s ears perked in curiosity of where he was going with asking about dessert.

The bartender grunted slightly and threw a mangled tri-fold menu and Frank grabbed it quickly.

“Buddy, ring me up for the red velvet cupcake.”

[troubatrain]

four times you talked about having a baby + one time you did - k. hayes

a/n: here’s a very cute fluffy 4+1 from my old blog! :)

I.

You watched Kevin on the floor, listening to the babbling toddler in front of him, laughing along with whatever his niece was trying to tell him. His sister had made the trip down to New York, and was out getting lunch with a friend while you and Kevin had offered to babysit. It was the first time you were meeting any members of his family, and you’d only been dating for a few months - but watching Kevin with his niece was doing something to you.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, snapping a photo of the two, “This is too cute.”

“You’re too cute,” Kevin says instantly, his niece walking over to you to be picked up, a grin finding its way to Kevin’s face.

You pick her up kissing the top of her forehead, “I think she’s cuter than both of us.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon in Kevin’s apartment, playing house with his niece. Watching Kevin run around his apartment with his niece was straight up endearing, and you were happy that she liked you too. She’d fallen asleep snuggled between you and Kevin, a couple of goldfish stuck to her Uncle’s shirt and she rested on your lap. By the time Kevin’s sister and her headed back to their hotel, you were absolutely exhausted - not even considering the idea of headed to your own place and opting to crash at Kevin’s.

“Do you think you want kids?” Kevin asks, plopping down next to you into bed, blue eyes looking at you full of hope.

You’d never really thought much about having kids, just thinking that at the time you were too young. It was something you wanted one day but you didn’t know when you wanted that. You’d just started your career and your relationship with Kevin was new but the way he took care of his niece and the way he always took care of you was starting to make you think a little differently.

“Yeah, one day. Don’t get any ideas though,” You scold, waving your finger at Kevin.

“I know, but one day sounds good,” Kevin says, pulling you into his chest.

Kevin lulls you to sleep that night, talking about the future he wants with you. You’d get married, Kevin would prefer in Boston but he’d let you pick regardless. Maybe you’d move to the suburbs, get a house outside of the city with a yard, so you could have some space for your future children. But he told you he’d be okay staying in the city if that’s what you wanted to do. It was romantic to hear him talk about your future like that, deciding that he would just come for the ride.

II.

Kevin’s large hands were tying your skates, while you looked down at him in his stall at MSG. It was Christmas and with Christmas came the family skate that you’d grown to love. The first year, you were terrified, considering you didn’t even know how to skate and you’d only met a handful of Kevin’s teammates.

“Do you think this will be our last one here?” You whisper, low enough so none of his teammates would hear you.

It was a thought that you’d tried to push out of your mind but there was no way you could at this point. The trade deadline was coming in a few months and Kevin was certain he’d be on the trading block. You’d pushed him to talk about it about tons of times but he kept putting it off, knowing he was nervous about a move out of New York.

“If it is, we’ll make it a memorable one,” Kevin places a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to step out onto the ice. 

You watch as Kevin skates around the ice, Marc Staal’s kids chasing after him in the intense game of tag they’d been playing, while you smile at him from the bench.

“He’s so good with them,” Lindsay, Marc’s wife, says to you on the bench, “I think they’re going to miss him if you guys go.”

You nod, know how many dinners Kevin’s had at their place long before you’d even started dating, “I know it’s going to happen but, we haven’t even talked about it.”

“You’d go with him no?” Lindsay asks, trying to gauge how you actually felt about it.

“I mean, yes, he’s the one but-” You start to say only to be interrupted by the woman next to you.

“Just talk to him about it,” Lindsay says, “I’m sure you guys will be okay”

That night you’d been sitting in your shared apartment, a rerun of some terrible reality TV rerun playing in front of you. Kevin was out grabbing ice cream, insisting you spent the night off snuggled up with a movie. Your mind wanders to the conversation you’d had the family skate, and how you felt watching Kevin skate around with Marc’s kids. It was what you wanted and you knew you wanted it with Kevin but you were scared of the future. You’d been so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even hear Kevin walk back into the apartment. A pint of ice cream finding its way into your hands.

“Hey Kev?” You ask, your voice small, “What are we going to do if you get traded.”

Kevin looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I going to stay here or do you want me to go with you?” You ask bluntly, deciding to just get to the root of what’s bothering you.

Kevin takes a deep breath, walking out of the room and into your shared bedroom. You can hear him rummaging through a dresser, or it could have been a nightstand and step back into your living room with a velvet box in his hand.

“I was planning on doing a better job at his, you know, I was going to plan a nice dinner, make sure you’d just gotten your nails done, the whole thing but I think I need to do this now,” Kevin says, dropping down to one knee, “Baby I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to have a family with you, and spend the rest of my life with you by my side - wherever that may take me. Will you marry me?”

You nod, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, flinging yourself forward to kiss Kevin, over and over again, “Did you actually just do that?”

Kevin smiles against your lips, “I’ve been hiding that since the summer.”

You pull back smiling at the man in front of you, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Kevin grins back at you, “I can’t wait to have a family, we could be like Marc and Lindsay with all those kids running around the ice.”

The idea seemed like a dream to you, but in reality you were getting to live that life with a man who loved and cared about you. Kevin spends the night talking about your future, the plans seeming more definite than the first time he’d done that. Settling on having three kids, and a summer wedding - even mentioning you could get a dog even though he was afraid of them.

III.

You’d ended up following Kevin to Winnipeg and then to Philly easily. You’d been making an adjustment, but Philadeliphia was starting to feel like home more and more everyday. Kevin was happy and he loved his new team - which made it easier for you to follow suit. You’d both started to become acquainted with the city and you knew this was going to be a good place for the two of you.

You bounce the baby on your lip, singing a nursery rhyme while moving around your kitchen, causing Gavin to laugh. You’d ended up babysitting, Claude’s wife, Ryanne, calling you last minute to complain about their sitter canceling their date night. You and Kevin had agreed on a night in, so you offered to take their son for a few hours. You loved Gavin, and quite honestly you spend more time at games playing with him than paying attention to your fiance on the ice.

“I think we should have a boy first,” Kevin says, sitting on the island watching you with the baby.

“I don’t think that’s for us to decide Kev,” You joke, blowing raspberries into Gavin’s cheek, causing the baby to giggle, “Right Gav, tell him, he’ll be happy with what he gets.”

“What do you want?” Kevin asks, holding his arms out for you to pass him the baby.

“A boy doesn’t sound too bad,” You admit, thinking about how many outfits you’d bought for Gavin that you’d love hanging up in a nursery of your own, “What brought this up?”

“You know, we’re getting married soon, and you just look really good singing nursery rhymes in our kitchen,” Kevin admits, “And c’mon you don’t want a little me running around?”

Kevin holds Gavin next to his face with a pout, rubbing his beard onto the baby’s cheeks causing him to giggle and wiggle in Kevin’s enormous hands. It was a sight for sure, and one that often made you think about just letting Kevin knock you up before the wedding.

“I’m not going to be pregnant at our wedding,” You scold, “I’ve spent too much time planning to not be able to drink.”

“You’ve got a good point, we’ll make a honeymoon baby,” Kevin assures you, as if you had a choice.

IV.

Newlywed life was coming to a halting stop the second you touched down in Philadelphia. The summer of bliss that you’d just experienced was about to be burst in with the reality of a new season starting. You’d bought a new place, the space in the city was far more family friendly than the apartment you’d been living in last season. There were plenty of bedrooms, and some outdoor space that still resided in the city. You’d finally finished unpacking, stepping back after hanging up the last of your wedding photos in the living room.

“They look good there,” Kevin says, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, spinning you around, “You were right, I do like this place.”

Kevin wasn’t entirely on board with moving, but you knew he wanted to start a family and you wanted somewhere in Philly that you would come back to - a real permanent home. It took a little convincing but you managed to get him to crack while you were on your honeymoon.

You had one surprise that came with the house, and it sat in a box in your kitchen. Inside was a pregnancy test - that you’d taken a day before you moved down to Philly for the season. A very tiny jersey, with your now shared last name on the back, a bright number thirteen stitched onto the back. And to complete a very small stuffed Gritty that you had bought on impulse one day. You were excited to finally share the news with Kevin, keeping it a secret while you both handled all the craziness that came with moving and training camp coming up.

“I have something for you,” You say, slipping out of his arms and grabbing the box from the kitchen - dropping it into his lap, “Open it.”

You were on the edge of your seat watching him open the box and pulling the small jersey out, looking down at what was underneath it, “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” You confirm, placing your hand over your stomach.

“You, my wife, you’re pregnant, we’re having a baby,” Kevin blurted out, a goofy grin gracing his face, “Baby, we’re having a baby!”

You laugh, knowing this is the exact reaction you’d get out of your husband, “I take it you’re happy?”

“Easily the best thing that’s happened to me,” Kevin says, grabbing both sides of your face and kissing you over and over again. He spent the next week telling everybody he came in contact with that he was, in fact, having a baby.

Plus One

You hear a large crash, and a chorus of laughs coming from what was supposed to be your future son’s nursery. You sigh, curling your hands around the def-caf tea you’d been drinking, counting down the days until you actually start drinking coffee again, and you walk into the room, a piece of what was supposed to be a crib on the floor, and TK, Nolan and Kevin’s eyes staring at you.

“Sorry,” They all said in unison, guilt across their faces.

You give them a smile, “It’s fine guys, please be careful, and get this done.”

You decided to stay in Philly until you had the baby, the season ending when you’d hit around eight months and the stress of heading up back to Boston just seemed like too much at the time. Now, you were a week until your due date and you and Kevin had pushed everything till now in regards to setting up a place for your son. It was starting to stress you out, and honestly you were grateful for Travis and Nolan’s help, even if it was like having two kids in your house already.

You felt your stomach cramp up and a feeling in your stomach that this baby was coming, you gasp and look at Kevin, your eyes scared, “Kev - I think it’s happening.”

--

Nine hours of labor later, your son entered the world in a way somehow more chaotic than the way Kevin entered your life. Kevin did good, keeping his cool for most of your pregnancy and labor that you were honestly surprised. He finally cried, when he held your baby for the first time, calmly talking to the little boy who he loved probably more than he loved you. You got lucky, in all the craziness of what was going on, Travis and Nolan stayed back and somehow put together all of your furniture in the nursery, even leaving a few gifts behind for your baby boy.

“Thank you for this,” Kevin confesses, the two of you and your son being the only people left in the hospital room, exhausted from the day of visitors, “I mean I knew we’d get here, but I’m grateful we actually did.”

“I hope you’re still grateful when you have to change diapers at 3 am,” You say, knowing the hard part was definitely coming.

“I promised I’d do it, and I will,” Kevin assures you, intending on keeping the promise that you carried that baby for nine months and that he would take on the middle of the night diaper duties.

And you fell asleep that night like you did so many nights before, Kevin rambling about your future, all the things he wants to teach his son. How he can’t wait to teach him to skate, and how he can play whatever sport he wants - or it would be fine if he didn’t play sports at all. Kevin’s voice lulled you and your little family to sleep - and you knew he’d do that forever.

[girl-in-the-tower]

Idia and Vita 3, 5, 6, 10, 12, 13, 15, 16, 21

3. Describe their relationship dynamic.

I want to say that they’re a mix between a gamer couple and a goth one, haha.

Though more seriously, they’re the sort of stable relationship that gets stronger with time I would say, in that they both understand each other so well they function very well when they have to be in sync. They both consider the other to be that one person who gets where they’re coming from, but also to hold them accountable when they mess up. Idia knows quite well that Vita won’t let him get away with anything if she thinks he’s in the wrong, and neither will he hold back from criticizing her if he thinks it’s deserved. They exchange banter quite often. It’s not unusual to see them trash talk each other, even when they’re on the same team since they can be quite competitive.

They both push each other to improve in subtle ways. Because they’re both geniuses they tend to have a lot of conversations where they’re play-fighting ideas, trying to find the flaw in the other’s argument and this often helps them look at things from different perspectives. Their fields of expertise are quite different but they do make an effort to keep up with the other’s research.

Vita tends to be the more dominant one simply because she has a more forceful personality in general. She knows what she wants and how to get it and won’t let anybody get in her way, which usually means that she leads and Idia follows. At least on the surface. In private they tend to be on equal terms since they feel more at ease, but Idia doesn’t complain about letting Vita be in charge when they’re out in public. It means that he can avoid talking with other people, after all. Or at least that is what it should mean theoretically, but instead, Vita keeps nagging him about being more confident and self-assured. She is a proponent of tough love.

Vita also tends to be the more physically affectionate one between the two of them, though usually in private. In public, she mostly sticks to teasing him instead. Though Idia claims to find it annoying and unwelcome, he doesn’t really tell her to back off either and even returns her affections occasionally when he gets around his self-conscious nature. It’s quite usual for Larna and Ortho to catch Vita playing with Idia’s hair, or Idia massaging her shoulders when they’re gaming together.

Their online gaming friends usually joke that they’re a package deal - MoodySamurai and IronQueen. Their coordination is scary to behold since it almost looks like they’re reading each other’s minds, knowing exactly what the other needs even before they ask for it. They tend to share their victories and even other aspects of their gaming lives - such as both of them usually getting into the same types of games. Though when it comes to gacha games they tend to have vastly different tastes and get quite competitive with one another too.

Because they’ve known each other for so long, they find it easier to be honest with the other and as a result understand the other better than themselves at times. They take their status as equals quite serious too, though they do have one major source of constant conflict: Ortho’s existence. Vita is rather wary of the young boy which Idia finds distressing, but even though they agreed not to bring this subject up again it still continues to bother them. They know they should talk about it, but Idia’s aversion towards conflict, coupled with Vita’s tendency to default to supporting Idia in situations of such importance means that they haven’t resolved anything yet.

5. How would they describe each other?

Idia often says that Vita is like the villainess of an otome game: haughty, arrogant and needlessly cruel. She tends to look down on others and criticize them as she sees fit, though he also doesn’t seem to find that a bad thing either. Idia would also remark on Vita’s intelligence and drive, which he might criticize as too much for an otaku like him, but he does think her driven nature suits her well. He has admitted more than once that when it comes to knowledge regarding medicine and the human body she’s an expert. He also notes that she’s very attractive, often in comparison to himself, and would then follow up by saying that based on looks they’re not matched well at all.

Vita often defaults to praising all of Idia’s qualities - by which she means the things she herself finds attractive in him, such as his intelligence and devious nature. She is especially fond of his occasionally haughty outbursts and encourages him to be more open with his opinions just to catch a glimpse of it. She finds his interests endearing too, especially his enthusiasm for his games and idol group. It does come across that she holds him in high regard even if she does end up criticizing him a lot and she also makes no secret of the fact that she’s smitten with his odd, ghoulish appearance. Idia isn’t sure if he should be flattered or not.

6. What do they love about each other?

They both admire each other’s intelligence, to be honest. The fact that they can keep up with the other’s thought process and understand their motivations to such an intimate degree while other people might find them difficult to interact with means that their bond is very strong. Not that they would really say this out loud, since Idia thinks only normies are so open with their feelings and Vita believes there is no point in stating the obvious. They each appreciate how devious the other can be since it means they can test out whatever plan they are considering right now by running it by the other, though given that they often do this by stating it’s “just a thought” it might lead to some arguments regardless.

Idia’s stubbornness is charming to Vita as well. She admires strong convictions, even if she does not necessarily agree with some specifically, and adores it when he starts to speak his mind without holding back. She’s also professed several times that she is in love with his odd appearance, the strangeness of it having a certain appeal to her and she makes it a point to compliment him on it as often as possible. Idia always claims she’s just making fun of him but this doesn’t really deter her at all. If she wants to speak her mind she will, regardless of his complaints. She’s known him long enough to be aware that underneath it all he does enjoy being praised like that and is simply putting up a front after all.

For Idia, Vita’s strong will and confidence are very attractive. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, and often will deflect when asked about what he thinks her qualities are, but he feels more at ease knowing he has a mentally strong partner like her. She’s not prone to falling apart or displaying clinginess and for a hermit like him, it’s comforting to know that they can live independently from each other even when they are in a relationship. He doesn’t feel suffocated by the attention and that makes him appreciate her more. He also thinks that her appreciation for the macabre is oddly cute, though he isn’t sure what exactly it is that makes him think so.

10. What are their love languages?

For Vita, it’s Quality Time and Physical Touch! As long as she’s in Idia’s presence she feels content and at ease. They mostly just play video games or discuss various matters, personal or work-related. But given that Vita generally acts very facetious towards others, she finds such moments where she can be unapologetically truthful very relaxing. It also helps that when they’re gaming, Idia is usually too distracted by what’s happening on the screen to actually notice that she’s moved closer to him and by the time he does, Vita has already settled in her new seat and has no intention of leaving any time soon. It’s really at times like this that he can’t help but remark how cat-like she really is.

Idia likes Words of Affirmation and Receiving Gifts! He’s got a bit of an ego hidden under all that self-deprecation which usually comes out when he’s praised and makes him get a bit ahead of himself, and as Vita is acutely aware of how much he enjoys being complimented she makes sure to always chime in with a comment or two. It really makes him feel better to hear her say such things even if a big part of him still refuses to fully believe it. However, when it comes to gifts he’s more straightforward. Since Vita usually gets him merchandise of his favourite shows and/or idol group he tends to be very picky when it comes to the quality and appearance. It can be quite a handful buying gifts for him due to how high his demands usually are, but Vita has him figured out already so it has become increasingly easy during the years.

12. What would happen if they never met?

I’ve talked about this before, but if these two had never met, I believe Vita wouldn’t really have had the drive to go against her mother. She’d have continued to act and behave according to her expectations which would have led to her building up a lot of rage and resentment with no outlet for her feelings. She’d also have lacked any semblance of support and encouragement, as though Idia is not particularly good at cheering people up, he’s never commented negatively on her pursuits in a serious manner. He’s always let her behave as she saw fit, which in turn made her more eager to reclaim her independence. Had it not been for him, I think that she’d grown up to be really the opposite of herself thus much colder, more formal, very ladylike in all her behaviour and extremely intolerant of others. She’d never have befriended Agatha or even stayed too much in Idia’s presence. For her, he’d simply have been the disgusting heir of the Shroud family that they’d have to avoid.

For Idia, I think that Vita gives him another rock to lean on. Somebody who has his back and will not falter in front of any possible difficulties they might encounter. I think that is something that he really wants in his partner since he does tend to be the type who gives up easily if he encounters too much opposition. Having Vita at his side, makes him feel a little more confident in himself as there’s somebody on his side, but also keeps him in check since she refuses to let him fall by the wayside.

13. Who dies first? How does the other one react?

I’m thinking Vita dies first, most likely of old age. Idia feels like the world is coming to an end since he never imagined not having her in his life, though with the support of their children and Larna he manages to pull through. He respects her wishes to bury her in the family crypt but asks Mors to hold off reanimating her until he passes away as well since he knows he wouldn’t be able to deal with seeing his wife moving about but not recognizing him at all. He spends a lot of his days as an old man working and talking to a picture he has of her on his workbench, and when he also passes away he’s buried alongside her. At Morta’s request neither end up being reanimated, but just preserved, since she feels it would be better like this for both of them.

15. Describe your favorite moment of that ship!

I think their whole childhood together qualifies! As childhood friends, and due to having been engaged since young, they ended up spending a significant amount of time with each other which led to their present-day familiarity. They’re not sure how, but they somehow both became fixtures in the other’s life and thus had shared quite a few moments with each other.

Among the most significant ones had to be when Vita received Larna as an engagement present from the Shrouds. The puppy was a Jupiter Conglomerate breed that had its typically violent nature suppressed and would thus serve as a faithful companion instead. Its strength made it quite a formidable bodyguard as well, and his friendly nature towards her really surprised Vita. She had not been allowed any pets before as her mother considered them dirty and high-maintenance, but even she couldn’t actually refuse such an extravagant gift without bringing shame to the family.

Vita ended up bonding with the hellhound rather quickly, as did Larna to her and the two were inseparable after that. To Idia, who was also interested in the idea of a cool pet like that, it seemed incredibly unfair that Vita should have one when he didn’t. He ended up feeling quite resentful over it for a while, much to Vita and Ortho’s confusion, who weren’t sure why he seemed so out of sorts whenever he came over to the Dies mansion or Vita and Larna came over to theirs. Larna had shown quite a lot of interest in Idia as well, so it wasn’t like the dog was ignoring him, but Idia still seemed rather content with casting himself in a victim narrative. Moreover, it took Vita a while to realize what his issue was and once she did she proposed to him that they could share the dog. She would be the mother and he could be the father, so it would be like they were playing house together and he’ll have just as much claim over him as she did.

Though Idia took it mostly as a victory since he obtained what he wanted, to Vita is was more like a promise that they would stay together for a long time as hellhounds like Larna tend to live very long and often past their owners’ death. Idia agreeing to have co-ownership to the dog meant that he was willing to keep them both in his life for a long period of time, which to Vita, who had recently come around to the idea of being engaged to him, became a very pleasant notion. In a way, it was their own version of reinforcing their engagement even if Idia wasn’t entirely aware of the implications. Or if he was, he didn’t want to admit to them.

16. What do other characters think about this relationship?

Most are surprised to find out about their engagement, I imagine, and out of everybody, Ortho is perhaps the most supportive. He sees Vita as part of the family already and it makes him glad to see that Idia feels at ease around her and is more open and confident. Together they often end up trying to convince Idia to go outside more and interact with others.

Vita’s family is against the relationship, however, mostly on account that Vita’s mother fears that their reputation as the Death Mages will resurface once again due to their connection with the Shroud family. She vehemently opposed the union back when it was proposed and even now forbids Idia any access to their house or even the mention of his name. She would rather pretend that this whole relationship doesn’t exist.

Idia’s parents and Vita’s grandfather on the other hand regard this relationship as a very good opportunity to achieve what each of them wants. In the Dies’ case, they require financial support and a means of preserving their family traditions through any means necessary and the Shrouds can provide, while getting in return the secrets to transmutation that the Dies guard very carefully against prying eyes. To them, it’s a very fortuitous union since both sides are being happy with their situation now to a certain degree.

21. What’s a really significant moment in their relationship?

Their fight during the Culture Festival at Night Raven College, I would say. Mostly because it is the one incident in which neither of them really backs down so it leads to a lot of tension and an exchange of words neither really mean, but can’t take back either. It causes a bit of a fracture in their relationship since they’re too prideful to admit that they messed up and once Vita says they won’t be able to see each other for a while it really leads to an even bigger misunderstanding between them, that only festers due to the events that take place in episode 6. Yet, in a way, this could have been a fortunate turn of events as well, due to the fact it means that both of them were forced to realize how much they care about the other.

Vita’s return home, made her realize that she misses the freedom she has with Idia, as well as the support he inadvertently gives her. When they’re together, Vita feels like she’s finally in control of her own situation and can conduct herself as she sees fit. She’s treated like an equal, like somebody who also has a voice and isn’t just a pawn to be shifted around at the behest of someone else. Without Idia, she feels like she’s lost her partner in crime and her support system.

Idia also realizes the many sacrifices that Vita has always made for him, and continues to make regardless. He’s always taken for granted the fact that she would be by his side, and now that he’s faced with the reality of it all, he isn’t sure how to proceed. Without Vita to keep him more grounded, he slips much easier into his tendency to disassociate with everything around him and indulge himself in his coping mechanisms. He hasn’t realized how much he needed and appreciated her presence and care until he had to do without it.

They really become more appreciative of each other after that.

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today XIII

A/N:  This is the first of... FOUR chapters I am writing this week. I'm still posting one on Wednesdays, and one on Saturdays, but I needed to get a little bit ahead because I'll be out of town next week and didn't want to not have updates! So, look for the next chapter Saturday, and I hope you all enjoy this one! Skål!

Summary:  When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

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Aethelind found herself training harder in the following weeks. She spent most of her days out in the training fields, fitted in trousers, fighting anyone who was willing to take her on. There was a surprising number of people who would, and with each fight she felt like she was improving. She learned something new, at least, with every person she fought. Some of the men, she would defeat, some of the women too, and then some she wouldn’t.

However, there was hardly any warrior or shieldmaiden who didn’t want a chance to fight the Warrior Princess of Wessex. So, she wasn’t exactly at risk of having no one to train with. If Hvitserk came down, he would take precedence to them all, however. The Son of Ragnar was Aethelind’s favorite to train against, just because of his sheer talent for fighting, and the fact that, while he wasn’t the best at teaching her to speak in his tongue- well, he wasn’t quite as good as Freydis, even if better than Ivar- he was an excellent teacher when it came to the battlefield.

Under him, she was thriving. She was winning more training fights every day than she had the last, and it was about decided that she would be able to hold her own in any fight. Hvitserk wanted to start having her fight more people at once, preparing her for a battle. There was an unspoken arrangement, that that’s what he was training her for. After all, Hvitserk- like Ivar- knew the truth about just who was in Wessex, now. But he’d had… a bit of a different thought about it.

He knew it was likely only a matter of time before his brothers and Lagertha returned for Kattegat. And… he couldn’t say yet which side he would fight for. He loved Ubbe, he loved Björn, but he also loved Ivar. The only thing was…

Ivar was crazy. He thought he was a god. Yes, they’d grown up hearing how their father, Ragnar Lothbrok, was descended from Odin, but that didn’t mean they, themselves, were gods! How Ivar had gotten that in his head, Hvitserk wasn’t sure, but he had an idea. All he did know, was he was having doubts about his support of the King of Kattegat. And if he chose to turn on him, he wanted to be sure he’d prepared Aethelind the best he could for whatever came of that.

For one thing, when he wasn’t with Thora, he was with Aethelind. His betrayal might automatically turn suspicion onto her. If she got caught in the fallout, he wanted her ready to defend herself. He couldn’t betray anyone unless he knew he’d mitigated as much of the damage as he possibly could. Once Aethelind could hold her own in battle, he’d know he’d done it.

The ringing of swords clashing together rang out through the air, as Aethelind and Hvitserk battled once more. They often came so close to one outcome, only for the other to suddenly pull it off, and it seemed that was about to happen again. Hvitserk had had her on the ropes, just a few minutes ago, but she’d ducked and slid right between his legs, popping back up on the other side and using her foot to kick him away, and he’d stumbled and fallen to the ground.

Now, he was trying to keep defending himself until he could get back up, but her sword was coming hard, fast, and relentless, making him have to focus so much on not missing, and being struck, to focus on getting up onto his feet. She feigned a thrust to the right, and when he went to block, she brought her sword back to the left, and caught his blade. This action sent it flying out of his hand, and when he reached for it, she pinned his arm down by stepping- lightly, so as not to actually hurt him- on his wrist.

There was a flash of something, something that caught Aethelind off guard entirely, and she stepped back. Just as soon as it had come, the sight of Hvitserk suddenly pale, looking up at her with bloodshot eyes, stringy hair barely pulled out of his face, clearly incredibly unwell, was gone. But it had still startled her well enough, and made her shake her head and drop to her knees beside him.

Her brows creased with a deep concern, and her hands reached out to take his face between her hands, her sword long abandoned behind her now. Hvitserk looked confused at the confusion written across Aethelind’s face, but he couldn’t deny the concern was rather endearing. If not… still concerning.

She couldn’t think of how to explain just what she had just seen, had just witnessed, but Hvitserk looked perfectly healthy, perfectly happy now. His skin was the same color it always was, his hair was clean, his eyes clear. So what had she seen? Why had he suddenly looked so sick and so miserable?

Eventually, Hvitserk decided he was concerned enough to try and find out just what exactly was bothering her so badly, and so he asked, “Is something the matter, Princess?”

She blinked a few times, and her eyes finally met his. A slight reddish tint crossed her cheeks and she chuckled shyly, releasing him. “You fell pretty hard, it seemed,” she lied easily. “I just… needed to be sure you were alright.”

Hvitserk’s smile turned more gentle then, and he sat up, taking her hand in his. “I am well, Aethelind,” he said softly. “Perhaps we should be done for the day. We can go and take some rest, after a meal. How does that sound, hm?”

Aethelind nodded, and then gave her head a light shake. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t- I don’t know what came over me.”

Hvitserk put an arm around her and pulled her close, pressing a soft kiss to her head as he felt her head resting against his shoulder. “I do,” he answered her. “And I understand. Come, let’s have some food and drink.”

She nodded and sat up again, smiling at him slightly, before watching him get to his feet and offer her a hand up. Accepting it, she too stood, and they started off.

The pair walked up to the Great Hall, his arm still slung around her shoulders. Hvitserk opened the door when they arrived to let Aethelind pass through. He followed her inside, got them both hot meals and warm drinks, before suggesting they return to her chambers to eat.

Normally, she’d have insisted she was fine to sit in the hall and eat, but today… Whatever had happened with Hvitserk had her still quite shaken, and though Hvitserk read this as a reaction to something entirely different, it was still enough for him to recognize that today was rather not the day to eat in the hall.

So, they took their food and drinks to her chambers, and sat at her desk. He’d pulled a chair up beside hers, and they settled in there. Most of the eating was done in silence, Hvitserk’s eyes studying the rather disturbed look on her face. He waited until she was finished eating to finally ask.

“How are you feeling?”

Without any explanation, Aethelind understood the exact meaning of his words. She took a deep breath, and her eyes fell to her hands, which moved to rest in her lap. “I miss him,” she confessed, her voice quiet. “We got close, in the years Alfred was gone to the Holy City. I never imagined he would just… go like that.” Her eyes watered a little as she recalled the news she’d received just a few weeks ago, and Hvitserk nodded slowly. “Alfred was always the one prone to falling ill, not Aethelred. I don’t think anyone could have seen it coming. And the fact he passed while Alfred was sick…” She gave another sigh, and shook her head. “Forgive me, I’ve spoken about this at length with you, Hvitserk. You’ve been good to humor me so long, but you really don’t need to. I know I’ve likely exhausted the subject.”

That sounded so like her Hvitserk had to bite back a chuckle. Aethelind was always so considerate, and even after the death of her own brother, after which she’d thrown herself head first into her training, she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. This caused Hvitserk to shake his head, and reach for her hand. “Your theory makes sense,” he said. “If someone wanted to take the throne, it would make sense to do so while you were away, and the King himself was sick. If your brother was as healthy a man as you say he was, then I have no doubt he must have been poisoned. But Alfred, he is well, is he not?” Aethelind nodded slightly, and so Hvitserk smiled. “Then there is hope for your people,” he said. “I am just glad we managed to keep you from running home.”

She sighed, and cracked a small smile. “Yes,” she agreed. “You were all right about that. As much as I wished to be with my family… Aethelred was gone days before I heard, and by the time I returned, would have been long buried. I may have just been putting myself in danger to go.”

Hvitserk nodded. “Exactly. And you were sent here for safety, as well as for peace, hm? Ivar swore to protect you, and letting you run into what may have been a trap would have broken that oath.”

He didn’t miss the way her smile grew as she considered that, before answering, “You’re right, and I’m glad he upheld his oath. Though, I’m sure he was also reluctant to let go of the extra pair of hands when it comes to his new baby.”

Freydis seemed prepared to give birth any day now, in Aethelind’s opinion. And she had already offered to do anything she could to help with the baby, including during the arrival, and after. Both Ivar and Freydis had been more than pleased with this offer, and had readily accepted it.

Hvitserk chuckled softly at her insinuation, even as he shook his head. “Ivar wants you safe,” he told her. “One of… very few things the two of us agree on, these days. But we do. You are more than help for Freydis and him with the new baby.”

“I know,” she replied, chuckling softly as well. “He’s… struggling, right now. I can see as much. But I think he’s still a good man.”

And thus, she had summed up exactly what Hvitserk was struggling with himself. “Sometimes, I wonder how much of my little brother still exists, and how much is replaced by this… ‘Ivar the God’,” he confessed to her. She sighed softly and shook her head.

“He must know he’s not a god,” she replied. “Mustn’t he? I know your people disagree with mine on just who exactly is a god, or is God, but I think… neither of us would be correct in saying it was Ivar.”

Hvitserk nodded in response to her words. “He won’t hear it,” he said. “I’ve tried to tell him, but he thinks I’m the one who is crazy. Not him.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s crazy, exactly,” Aethelind said with a grimace, ever the optimist. “I think he’s just… buried beneath years of anger, and pain, and hatred.” Ubbe had said those exact words to her, many months ago, she recalled. “Perhaps a bit of heartbreak, too. We just need to reach him.”

“If it can be done,” Hvitserk allowed, but ultimately sighed. “If it is not too late.”

There came a knock at the door, and both Hvitserk and Aethelind looked up to it. They shared a look that said neither of them knew who it was, and so she called, “Enter!”

The door opened and Ivar himself stepped inside, causing both their hearts to jolt in their chests. They hoped desperately he hadn’t overheard them.

“Brother,” he greeted, not at all caught off guard by finding them together. “I need a moment with the Princess.”

Hvitserk’s heart jumped in a rather unpleasant way. Ever since he learned who had pushed King Harald back, he had been trying to stay with Aethelind. He didn’t know the full extent of what Ivar was thinking about it, but he knew he wanted to shield Aethelind from any horrible reaction Ivar could have. But… in Kattegat, what Ivar wants, he will have. And just then, he wanted time to speak with her alone. There was nothing for Hvitserk to do against that. So, he simply nodded, patted Aethelind on the shoulder and kissed her head.

“I’ll find you soon,” she told him with a warm smile, and he returned the smile to her, nodding. There was a tense moment as he started out of the room, and he and Ivar looked at each other. Hvitserk cracked a small, knowing, tight-lipped grin, and left.

Once he was gone, and the door was shut, Ivar turned back to Aethelind. She offered him a warm smile, and gestured toward the chair Hvitserk had just occupied. He waved a hand in a way so as to decline the offer to sit.

It was just one moment of him being stubborn, refusing to do something that would be a great help to him. But, she’d just been with Hvitserk, who he had seen fighting with her, training her, and walking at her side. Not that Ivar couldn’t walk, obviously he could, with his crutch and the braces he wore on his legs, but she wouldn’t have to slow down for Hvitserk.

There was no reason for him to want to prove himself to Aethelind, of course. And yet still, something drove him to try and do so, to be just as much of a man as Hvitserk was, when he was with her. It couldn’t be that he wanted to impress her. There was no need for that. He was married already anyway, and he loved Freydis more than anything. No, it was just that he- again- was struggling to live up to his brother. Wasn’t it always that?

Aethelind, of course, saw right through it. She gave him a somewhat pointed look, the sort he had come to recognize in her that said she saw through whatever it was he was attempting. He’d learned how similarly they thought since she arrived, and that meant it was incredibly difficult to pull something over on her.

Ivar often found himself trying not to think too hard on why he found that entertaining, as opposed to frustrating. It created a very interesting banter between the two of them, and he found her challenging him in ways that strengthened him. Perhaps that was why he found his time with the Princess to be entertaining, and not frustrating. Their thought processes complemented each other, as opposed to rubbing against each other.

You will be pulled like the tides, at the command of the moon.

The words nearly sent a chill down his spine. He’d heard them at the same time he was told, by the Seer, that a snake had settled in his skull- whatever that meant. He wasn’t sure what these other words meant, either, but they’d been part of his final prophecy. Ivar had killed him right after that, but no one else knew.

He questioned if Aethelind could have figured it out. It was probably better she’d arrived after the Seer’s death. Hvitserk was close enough to the truth, he didn’t need someone else learning what had happened.

Which, brought him back to why he wanted to speak with her. It was no secret to him that she must have known Lagertha, Björn, Ubbe, and Torvi were in Wessex, along with Bishop Heahmund, but he was hanging onto that. He was never one to play his cards the moment he had them. So, this card was one he was hanging onto, until such a time as it would truly help him to play it.

Ivar ignored the fact he rather hoped she’d tell him one day. It was a foolish thing to hope for. As much as he wanted to believe she trusted him, there was no doubt in his mind that Björn and Ubbe would have turned her against him. It was why he couldn’t trust her, not fully. There were things he trusted about her, things he trusted she would be consistent in, but if he were to trust her… He’d be a fool.

So perhaps he had brought something of a test for her. It was clear to him now that Hvitserk was beginning to turn against him, and while he intended to test Hvitserk, he figured this could play as a test of Aethelind’s loyalties in Kattegat. If they resided with Hvitserk, then there was a good chance they resided too with Björn and Ubbe.

He wouldn’t be sure what to make of it if they resided more with himself than with Hvitserk.

A deep breath, inhaled and exhaled, signaled to Aethelind he was about to begin, and so she sat up straighter in her seat, giving him all her attention.

"I had something I wished to speak with you about, before it is done,” he confessed, and she nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I’d be happy to discuss it with you. What’s on your mind, Ivar?”

And there was that perfect disposition, once again. Always so gentle, so good to him. She was always ready to drop everything to help with anything. Perhaps that was part of why he didn’t trust her fully, too. Everyone he’d ever known had had a dark side. Where was hers?

Ivar sighed, and chuckled. “I have made a decision, but I think you should know before I enact it,” he said. She watched how he shifted his weight, leaning more heavily onto his crutch. His legs must have been bothering him, Aethelind realized. She wished he’d sit.

"Sit and tell me?” she suggested.

He almost rolled his eyes. What was it with her and wanting him to sit? He was just fine standing. Perhaps his legs were aching, but-

“Ivar, Hvitserk was sitting. Would you just sit down and get out of your head for once?”

Ivar blinked a few times, his eyes widening and brows lifting as he looked to her. Shocked, he held up a hand in surrender, and finally went to sit across from her. This seemed to satisfy Aethelind, as she smiled and nodded, silently permitting him to continue.

“I… have found an ally,” he said. He still seemed a bit stunned, which earned a giggle from Aethelind. “What is it?”

“You look like a startled duck,” she said, laughing again and leaning against her desk.

This only seemed to further confuse him. “A startled duck?” he questioned. “How do I look like a startled duck, hm?” She sort of mimicked the expression he’d just had, and he chuckled. “I did not look like that,” he argued.

“You did,” she insisted. “Don’t worry, it was sweet, and I won’t tell anyone. I don’t imagine the King of Kattegat would want his reputation ruined by his people learning that some foreign Princess could reduce him to a startled duck.”

Ivar rolled his eyes at her- really, he rolled his whole head- before pinning them back on her, and trying to get on with business. “I want to send Hvitserk to speak with him on my behalf,” he said. “I have come to you about this because I see how often you are with my brother, and I wanted to warn you before I sent him away.”

“When are you sending him?” she questioned. He noted the frown, the way her brows creased, and knew she wasn’t fond of this decision. But, he supposed he’d not be happy if he found out a close friend of his was being sent away.

Not that he’d ever had many close friends, but the point remained.

He answered her, “He will leave in a few days. I don’t want it mentioned to him until I have spoken with him, though. The reason I told you is so you would not be surprised by it.”

Aethelind nodded a little. “Well, thank you for letting me know,” she said, and her small smile returned. “Hopefully, we’ll finish my training before then.”

“If not, we will find a way to finish it without Hvitserk,” Ivar offered. He smiled at the way she lit up. If only his brothers and Lagertha weren’t in Wessex, hadn’t probably gotten to Aethelind before she had come to Kattegat. He could have taken more joy in those smiles of hers then.

“You could always train me,” she pointed out then, and that ‘startled duck’ look returned to his face. “And before you say no, I know you’re the most feared man in the world. You’ve earned that some way, haven’t you? I imagine you fight better than anyone would guess.”

Ivar shrugged slightly. “That may be so,” he said. “But how can I know you won’t use it against me some day, hm?”

“Me? Turn against you?” Aethelind asked, and laughed softly. “Kattegat will have fallen, and Wessex as well, the day I make the decision to do that.”

“Is that true? You would not turn against me?” he questioned. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes watching her closely. “What if it was your brother who asked it of you?”

Aethelind wasn’t quite sure what had brought this on, and so she returned his look with a very similar one, and answered, “I can’t see why he would, but were he to… I’d warn against breaking his word, and stand by mine.”

“And do I have your word that you will not turn against me?”

She smiled at him genuinely, and gave a short nod.

“You do.”

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @wilhelmyna, @katfett, @fangirl-nonsense, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

[cattles-bians]

damie vibecca exes au pt 9

post directory

obsetress: ready ok ot4 hc incoming

em: ot4! ot4! ot4

obsetress: after dani breaks up with her viola cuts all her hair off n it's the first impulsive thing she's ever allowed herself to do in her whole life (which should also tell you exactly how fucked up she was by it) n so then we have

obsetress: short curly hair viola

em: what is wrong with you

em: oh i love a dramatic haircut as a motif

obsetress: by the time she and rebecca start hooking up it's grown into a long bob and she keeps that for a while tbh because like

obsetress: viola has impulses all the time but she either: suppresses them, or thinks about them and then does them to the point where they can no longer be considered impulsive

obsetress: vs um

obsetress: dani has impulses all the time and used to suppress them but then fully leaned into

obsetress: charging headfirst into whatever the fuck (vp speech ref sheds a tear)

em: OTP: dont you wanna go apeshitt

obsetress: and thinking about how people change u and rub off on u for the better even after they leave

obsetress: viola: wants to go apeshitt

obsetress: viola: thinks about going apeshitt, thinks about all the ways it would benefit her, thinks about how she would enjoy it even if it did not in any way benefit her

obsetress: viola: yes ok don't you wanna go apeshitt

em: no but i am i am thinking abt like. dani and viola as both sort of? dragged into being housewives and homemakers because Women n viola didn’t really have the power to change her situation (even if she got isabel out of it!) and dani actually managed to call it off

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: grits teeth

obsetress: once again crying over very intentional very deliberate danvi parallels that no one else wants to talk about and i think even in this au right

obsetress: viola is socialized in such a specific space that this can very much still be true

obsetress: and i think like part of what draws her to dani is exactly that––that dani had the freedom to do that much sooner––but also she resents dani for exactly that too

obsetress: even when they're together, and that's the possession piece too

obsetress: i think a part of her thinks if she can't do it for herself she can have it for herself and that's close enough

obsetress: like she v much covets dani

em: ah the unique way that lesbians fuck each other up bc of living in a homophobic and misogynistic society

em:i mean who doesn’t covet danis ass

obsetress: literally and metaphorically

obsetress: and part of dani definitely knows that but part of dani (at least until she doesn't) likes it

obsetress: (also this is kinda what i was getting at w my insane lil pwp alfjadslf but i think it tracks here too)

obsetress: because she's like "well this is what it's supposed to be but it didn't work with eddie because i don't like men but now i'm with a woman and this is how it's supposed to be"

obsetress: "and i like being wanted it's nice to be wanted by someone i want for once"

obsetress: but yeah thinking a lot about the danvi dynamic once again

obsetress: viola short curly hair to viola long bob

obsetress: YEAH I JSUT

obsetress: WENT TO HER INSTA TO FIND

obsetress: AND THEN GOT

obsetress: SO DISTRACTD

[em note: edited out a 30 minute tangent going through pictures from kates instagram]

obsetress: so anyway the whole point of this. long bob viola

obsetress: rebecca loves long bob viola she rly loves um. sitting on her lap and running her fingers back through her hair

obsetress: when she and dani see each other again for the first time dani's all "oh. you cut your... hair" and vi's like "i did" and dani's like "it, um. looks... it looks... good?"

em: i think it’s nice when viola does something for herself :)

obsetress: it's nice :)

obsetress: i'm happy for her :)

obsetress: wish she didn't have to look so much hotter though :)

obsetress: don't make that face, babe, it's fine :)

obsetress: you know i love you :)

em: WAIT

em: dani had a fucking moment. she’s like

obsetress: oh dani likes her girls w curly hair huh

em: counting on her fingers. how many ppl has she dated w

em: YEAH

obsetress: YEAHDLKFJSLDFDFJSLDFj

em: CURLY BROWN HAIR

obsetress: OH MGOD EDDIE TOO

obsetress: NOT JUST GIRLS

obsetress: aw baby has a type

em: so actually it is DANI who ends up w the strongest routine

em: just short bob hair viola sitting next to jamie and dani has a fuckjng. out of body experience. perceives herself a little too hard

obsetress: she's just. staring

obsetress: mouth def hanging open

obsetress: then someone's like "dani? dani?" and she's blinking like five times in a row and sitting up straight

obsetress: but she does def have that moment at brunch

em: jamie doesn’t twig it

em: violas like. violas got a keen eye for anyone ‘copying’ her style. raises one devastating eyebrow

obsetress: dani and vi devastating eyebrow partners n crime

obsetress: later that night, in bed: jamie?

jamie: wot?

dani: do i have a type?

obsetress: jamie immediately wants to jump to no because how could she have anything in common w––

obsetress: oh. oh

em: jamie’s lil wispy premature greys set her apart

em: ‘jamie HATES it when she has things in common w viola’ is my favourite bit sjddkhd

obsetress: jamie "not sure how viola has no greys n she's how much older than me again" taylor

em: dani realises she actually has. no idea how old viola is

em: barely even knows a birthday

em: maybe viola even has like. a decoy birthday

em: queen of being mysterious for the drama of it all

obsetress: "she's just too stubborn to grey is all" "i'm stubborn!" "mm" "wossat supposed to mean" "you're..." "i'm what" "you like to... pretend? you're stubborn" "pretend i'm–– i am!" "jamie, i asked you to repark the car because i didn't want to get out of bed and it's street cleaning day and you immediately jumped up to do it even though you can barely parallel park"

em: WHIPPED

obsetress: jamie's quiet for a long time then, softly: "can parallel park just fine"

obsetress: "mm"

obsetress: whipped as hell

obsetress: this led me to everyone making dani or viola parallel park all the time when they go anywhere

obsetress: hc dani is a Very Good driver. idk why but it tickles me

em: i think um. dani is v independent and wants to be able to do things herself

em: and i think she probably got her license before eddie, but as soon as eddie got his....

obsetress: and dani's better than him n got a better score than him, and yet

em: and yet!

em: they swap out being deso driver if they’re gonna be drinking. or jsut call a taxi lmao

em: i’m so endeared by Extremely Good Driver Dani

em: dani does a reverse park without thinking

obsetress: viola loves her martinis n dani is drunk off of half a glass of sangria

obsetress: same!!!!!!!

obsetress: also just like. imagining

obsetress: dani checking all her mirrors

em: no

em: HANNAH

obsetress: and adjusting everything so fastidious

obsetress: OH GOD

obsetress: i didn't––

em: i jumped

em: phew it’s actually cute

obsetress: yeah! dw i'm not sick

em: well

obsetress: she just goes through her whole lil checklist and is so meticulous and precise

em: jamies like ‘we’re the same height’ and danis like ‘well.’

obsetress: oh god the four of them driving to the seaside for a vacation together (lots of content to mine here, will have to put a pin in most of it because i am getting sleepy) but they end up taking the truck much to vi’s chagrin just because it can hold the most

obsetress: (like viola doesn’t have a range rover but listen it needs to be dani n jamie’s car for this to work)

obsetress: and vi and rebecca are sitting in the back and then rebecca’s frowning and blinking and digging a headband out of the seat between them and viola immediately just. knows

obsetress: she’s like “dani?” “mm?” “you and jamie... have cleaned your car recently, right?” (jamie’s chiming in: “i’m right here, vi, you can address me too,” viola pointedly ignores her) “um... maybe a couple months ago? why?” “well,” and vi pokes her disdainfully with the headband, “can you at least tell me you’ve had it cleaned between whenever this got stuck between the seats and rebecca and me sitting here now?”

obsetress: dani just GRINS sheepishly

obsetress: “i could tell you that, but...” “but?” dani mumbles “it would be a lie”

obsetress: anyway dunno why vi’s that upset about having to sit in the backseat where dani n jamie hooked up, like, last week when it’s not like she and rebecca haven’t been inside the two of them respectively but it’s absolutely the kind of contrarian shit she’d choose to be pressed about and it makes me laugh so

[gamergirl929]

Who Knew Someone So Small Could Change My Life So Much? (Shayna Baszler x Reader)

Shayna Baszler never expected someone so small, in the form of a little girl to change her life so much, it wasn’t only her that changed her life though, it was you as well, the woman who brought the little girl into existence in the first place. 

"What?”

Shayna looks down at the little girl with a huff, her eyes narrowed.  

The little girl’s bottom lip juts out, her puppy dog eyes on full display as she stares up at the woman.  

Shayna sighs as she kneels down the little girl closing the distance between the two of them, leaping into Shayna’s arms, much to her surprise.  

“Whoa.” She chuckles giving the little girl a bit of a squeeze.  

Shayna’s brows furrow as the little girl squeezes her with all her might before wiggling out of her hold and running off, leaving the cage fighter to watch her go in utter confusion.  

“Okay then.”  

                                                          ***

“Do you have a mom kid?” Shayna asks as she wipes her sweat covered face, the little girl looking up at her with what can only be described as puppy dog eyes.  

The little girl remains silent, curiously looking up at the queen of spades who lets out a lengthy sigh, dropping down to the floor and sitting, cross legged.  

“I’m not sure what you want.” Shayna hums, the little girl sitting down in front of her, eyeing her curiously.  

Shayna’s eyes narrow, the little girl’s eyes narrowing as well as she leans towards her, lips forming a tight line

Shayna snorts.  

“I think I like you kid.” She grins, the little girl giggling, her laughter making Shayna’s smile widen.  

“You gonna tell me your name?” She asks, the little girl humming, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finds her voice.  

“Addi.”

Shayna holds her gloved hand out.  

“Well Addi, I’m Shayna.”  

                                                          ***

“Addi, are you ever going to tell me who your mom is?” Shayna asks as she finishes her crunches, rolling over to do push ups.  

Shayna grunts when Addi climbs onto her back, the woman snorting as she starts her push ups. She didn’t know where she’d come from, or whose daughter she was, but Addi had stolen her heart, the little girl’s smile making her day.  

“ADDISON?!”  

Shayna stills, Addi, or Addison rather, climbs off her back the little girl beaming as you poke your head into the room.  

Shayna’s eyes widen, the cage fighter scrambling to her feet.  

Your brows furrow, your Y/E/C orbs darting from Shayna to Addison and back.  

“So, this is where you’ve been sneaking of to?” You ask, the little girl holding her tiny arms out, allowing you to scoop her up in your arms.  

You turn to Shayna with a soft smile.  

The former NXT Champion had always been unapproachable, a permanent scowl on her face as she made her way backstage. It seemed that scowl though did absolutely NOTHING to deter your daughter from her, considering she’d been sneaking off to see the woman every chance she got.  

“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you.” You mumble, Addison’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout.  

Shayna pushes herself to her feet, clearing her throat.  

“N-No, not at all.”  

Addison crosses her little arms across her chest, huffing.  

“What?” You ask, the little girl’s bottom lip jutting outwards in a pout.  

“Ayna!” She points at the cage fighter, whose eyes widen, the woman unable to bite back a grin considering it was the first time she heard the little girl say, well, attempt to say, her name.  

“Ayna’s busy.” You laugh, turning to the woman, catching her beaming smile.  

She clears her throat.  

“I-I mean...” You turn to Shayna, a brow arched.  

“I’m not busy, she can uhhh, stay here if she wants.” She shrugs, her cheeks flushed and you grin, the woman’s embarrassment endearing.  

You turn to Addison, the little girl giving you a toothy grin.  

“Wait...” Your eyes narrow as you lean towards your daughter, your forehead against hers.  

“Is Shayna your new best friend?” You whisper, the little girl giggling as she nods.  

You turn to Shayna with a glare.  

“Are you trying to steal my daughter?” You ask, fighting off a smile, Shayna on the other hand doesn’t hide her smile at all.  

“Looks like I already stole her.” She shrugs, Addison giggling.  

You grumble.  

“Well, I’m not going down without a fight.” You stick your tongue out, Addison’s eyes wide as she looks from you, to Shayna and back, a smirk stretching across Shayna’s face.  

“Bring it on.”  

                                                          ***

“I’m actually surprised.”  

Shayna turns to you, a brow arched, the woman smiling when she sees Addison is fast asleep in your lap.  

“Why is that?” She asks, earning a tiny smile in return.  

“Addison has selective mutism, she’s nearly 3 so she know how to speak, it just usually takes her a while to get comfortable enough to talk to someone, but with you, it’s different.” You smile, Shayna smiling as you stare down at your daughter, running your fingers through her hair.  

“Well, the first time I saw her she just stared at me.” Shayna shrugs, chuckling and you grin.  

“Sounds like Addi.” You laugh, the little girl cuddling closer.  

Shayna’s brown orbs dart from you, to Addison and back, a smile stretching across her face.  

“She looks just like you.”  

You pick your head up, cheeks flushing when you realize Shayna is staring at you, the woman glancing away, her own cheeks pink.  

“Thankfully.” You snort as you brush a strand of hair out of Addison’s face.  

Shayna’s brow arches in question and you sigh, covering Addison’s sleeping ears with your hands.  

“Her dad’s an ugly dick.” You roll your eyes, the cage fighter snorting.  

“Not in the picture?” She asks nonchalantly, the woman genuinely curious, but also wanting to know if you were single, considering in all the time she’d spent with you and Addison, the more her tiny crush on you had grown.  

“No, the second he found out I was pregnant, he was gone... He signed his rights away the day after she was born.” You shrug, your eyes holding a hint of sadness, that sadness making Shayna’s heart ache.  

“It seems like you’re doing just fine without him.” She smiles, your Y/E/C orbs locking with hers.  

You bite your bottom lip, your cheeks flushed as your eyes dart around her face. 

“You think?” You ask with a whisper, the woman nodding.  

“No, I know.”  

You grin, your heart skipping a beat in your chest, your eyes dropping to the sleeping girl in your lap.  

“Thank you, Shayna... You don’t know how much it means to hear that.” You whisper as you cup Addison’s cheek.  

You’re surprised when seconds later, a gloved hand covers your own.  

“You deserve to hear it every day Y/N, you’re a good mom.”  

You spread your fingers, your heart skipping a beat when Shayna’s fingers intertwine with yours.  

“Still, thank you.”  

Shayna gives your hand a squeeze.  

“You’re welcome.”  

                                                          ***

“Ayna! Ayna!”  

Shayna smiles as Addison rounds the corner, the little girl leaping into Shayna’s open arms, the woman scooping her up.  

It had been a few weeks since Addison had saw her best friend, considering the two of you were needed elsewhere.  

You round the corner with a grin, smiling when you see Shayna hugging Addison tightly.  

Shayna holds a hand out, your brows furrowing as you take her hand, the woman pulling you into the hug.  

You smile, burying yourself in her embrace, your cheeks flushing when you realize just how much you’d missed her, missed her smell, missed the way Addison would smile when she saw the queen of spades, missed the way her presence made the butterflies in your stomach rile up.  

“I missed you guys.” Shayna confesses, her cheeks flushed.  

You chuckle, giving her a squeeze.  

“We missed you too.”  

                                                          ***

“RAWR!”  

Addison climbs on Shayna’s back, the woman falling dramatically on the mat, the little girl giggling as Shayna playfully tries to break her hold.  

You watch with a grin, sitting on the top turnbuckle as Shayna rolls the two over, poking Addison’s sides, the little girl giggling wildly.  

Shayna Baszler; fierce, and cold did a complete 180 when you and Addison were around, the woman soft and caring.  

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen head over heels for the woman, the woman with a charming smile that reach her brown orbs, and the way she was with Addison, the way the little girl grinned when she was around, only made you fall in love with her even more.  

“Hey.”  

You jump, eyes widening when you realize Shayna is standing in front of you, Addison on her shoulders.  

“Where’d you go?” She asks and you chuckle.  

“Was just thinking...” You shrug.  

Shayna smiles.  

“Then you missed Addi tapping out.” She shrugs, Addison huffing.  

“No.”  

Addison wraps her tiny legs around Shayna as best as she can, the woman falling to the mat, to her knees as if the hold is too much for her, until eventually she stills, Addison throwing her hands up in the air.  

You grin as Addison runs over to you, holding her tiny arms up, allowing you to pull her into your lap, your arms wrapped tightly around her.  

Shayna rolls over, looking up at the two of you with a massive grin. She never knew two girls could take her heart so easily, but you both had, and she wanted nothing more than for you both to keep it.  

“You okay down there?” You snort, the woman smirking.  

“Just fine.”  

Shayna’s brows furrow as you whisper something in Addison’s ear, the little girl grinning as you place her on the mat, the little girl jumping on top of the queen of spades.  

“Did you put her up to this?” Shayna asks, as the little girl wraps her arms around her, doing her best to put her in a submission hold.  

You shrug.  

“Maybe.”  

Shayna gasps, eyes wide.  

“Traitor!”  

She feigns choking, falling back to the mat, tapping your daughter’s tiny hands, the little girl squealing in triumphant.  

As she celebrates, Shayna watches her with a grin, the little girl’s happiness making her happy.  

What she misses though is the smile you’re sending her way, a smile that makes your eyes sparkle with complete and utter adoration.  

                                                          ***

A knock on Shayna’s hotel room door makes her brows furrow, the woman peeking through the peephole, the source of the knocking making her smile.  

She tugs the door open, revealing you and Addison, the little girl bouncing on her heels giddily.  

“What’s this?” She asks when the little girl holds out a piece of paper, the woman opening it with a smile.  

In crayon Addison had drew you, her and Shayna, the three of you holding hands, Addison in between the two of you, beneath it are two boxes, Yes and Yes beside each of them, obviously written in your hand.  

“You’re formally invited to movie night; you just have to check one of the boxes.” You nod to the boxes, Shayna letting out a snort.  

“I mean I HAVE to say yes, don’t I?” She winks, a smile stretching across your face.

“Yes?” Addison asks and you grin.  

“Yes, it is.” Shayna smiles, the woman laughing as Addison wraps her arms around her legs.  

“Just let me get dressed.” She nods in her room.  

Addison pulls on your pants leg until you lean down, the little girl whispering in your ear.  

“Addi says it’s a sleepover.” You grin, the woman’s eyes widening.  

“Is it now?” Her brows arch, the little girl nodding.  

“Yes!”  

Shayna grins, her eyes flicking to yours.  

“I guess I better bring my stuff then.”  

                                                          ***

It’s later that night when there’s a knock on her hotel room door, Addison sprinting to the door, tugging it open with a grin.  

“Ayna!” She squeaks, wrapping her arms around her legs.  

“There’s one of my favorite girls.” She picks her up, hugging her to her chest.

“Oh? And who’s the other?” You ask, missing the way Shayna’s cheeks flush.  

“You wouldn’t know her.”  

You blow a raspberry at her, Addison giggling.  

“Siwwy mommy.”  

Addison wiggles until Shayna lets her go, the little girl tugging her pants leg.  

“NAWA!” She says, Shayna’s brows furrowing as she looks your way.  

“The Lion King.”  

Shayna grins.  

“Everyone loves The Lion King."  

You grin.  

“Ohhh, do my ears deceive me, does Shayna Baszler love The Lion King?”  

Shayna scoffs.  

“I mean, I relate to Scar.” She shrugs and you snort.  

“Sure, you do.”  

Addison pulls Shayna to the bed, the woman dropping her bags on the floor.  

“Change into something comfier, no one wears jeans on movie night... Duh.” You throw a pillow at her and Shayna scoffs, smiling when she sees Addison at the head of the bed.  

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”  

                                                          ***

It’s not long after that you, Shayna and Addison are in bed together, Addison between the two of you, babbling along to the music considering she can’t say all the words.  

You’re unable to hold back a smile when the little girl crawls into Shayna’s lap, her back against her front, Shayna’s tattooed arms wrapping around her.  

You watch the pair with a smile, slowly gravitating towards the two until your arm presses against hers, your thigh pressing against hers.  

Shayna’s brown orbs widen, her ears and cheeks flushing red. She keeps her attention on the TV, unable to gain the courage to turn your way.  

You’re in a similar state, cheeks blood red.  

You couldn’t believe you’d done that, you wanted nothing more than to be closer to her in that moment, so you threw caution to the wind.  

When you do turn to Shayna, it’s to look at Addison, a smile on your face as you see the little girl had drifted off.  

Finally, you gain that courage to look at Shayna, though you quickly realize she isn’t looking at you, she’s looking at Addison.  

Eventually though, her gaze does drift to you, the woman’s cheeks flushing as her eyes dart around your face.  

Boldly, the woman slips one arm from around Addison, the woman’s eyes locked with yours as she slips an arm around you.  

“Is this okay?” She whispers, so soft you have to strain your ears to hear her.  

Shayna’s eyes widen as you roll over, her arm under you as you slip an arm around Addison, your hand resting on top of Shayna’s as you snuggle into her side.  

“As long as this is okay.”  

Shayna bites her bottom lip to stave off a massive grin.  

“It’s more than okay.”  

                                                          ***

The credits are rolling when it happens, something you’d been wanting to happen for so, so long.  

Shayna had rolled over sometime during the movie, Addison between the two of you.  

You can’t keep your eyes off of her, the woman’s eyes closed as your eyes peruse her face.  

“I can feel you staring.”  

You jump at the sound of Shayna’s voice, cringing, you thought she’d been fast asleep, but you thought wrong.  

Shayna’s brown orbs dart around your face, her lips splitting in a grin.  

You catch her eyes on you and your cheeks flush.  

“I’m sor-

Your words are cut short when Shayna cups your face, the woman’s hand calloused, but soft.  

Your heart ceases to beat in your chest when her thumb brushes your bottom lip, lightly pulling the bit of plump flesh down with her thumb.  

Shayna swallows hard, the woman leaning towards you.  

You meet her halfway, the two of you stilling when your noses brush.  

You don’t close the gap between you, not yet, the two of you resting your foreheads together, wanting to savor the closeness, to savor the moment.  

Eventually, the gap between you is closed, your lips pressing together, meeting in the tenderest kiss you’d ever had, a kiss so soft, but filled with so much passionate that it knocks the air from your lungs.  

The two of you part, but only momentarily as you lean in yet again, the kiss a bit firmer, your lips moving, the two of you craving the touch of one another’s lips now that you’d gotten a taste.  

Shayna grins against your lips, the two of you sharing soft, chaste kisses as you laugh against one another’s lips.  

You part, neither going far as your foreheads rest together.  

You bite your bottom lip, a grin stretching across your face.  

“So, does that mean I’m your other favorite girl?” You ask, Shayna laughing as she shakes her head, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.  

“Yes, it does.”  

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter Three

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie:

Trojan horse.

Week 1(War and Peace)i: 

Monday came around quickly. The amount of sleep she had managed to achieve felt like something of an accomplishment considering what little else there was for her to do.

Feeling brave she gathered herself up and began an exploration of her new home. She recalled the features that Jamie had detailed to her on the Saturday morning before she’d fallen into a light coma for the next 30 odd hours. First, she started with the basement. Recalling the moment in Home Alone where Kevin had been forced to face his own below-ground nemesis, she took the steps carefully, the popular scene repeating over and over in her head until she actually came face to face with a harmless looking space.

As described, there was a washing machine and a dryer -the funnel used to expel the warm air from the back leading up and out of a tiny window near the ceiling- as well as several boxes stacked high in the corner. With not much else to view, she noted the cupboard which contained all the powders and conditioners she’d need and returned to the kitchen.

She’d never really been into cooking before, but despite this she thought the massive aga with its shiny maroon front looked extremely professional. It was, however, so clean she didn’t think it had been used much before. With Jamie working odd and long hours, she presumed it was more likely that he lived on cold snacks and microwave meals.

Looking in the large American-style fridge, she found an assortment of basic produce. What looked like a bottle of unpasteurised milk (most likely bought in himself) and some homemade butter lay in the door alongside a batch of freshly laid eggs. It all seemed fairly self-replacing and she smiled at the idea that one could live completely unaided in the middle of the Highlands if you knew how (or lived with someone else who did).

The freezer, as she expected from inspecting the contents of the fridge, contained a whole host of bagged and sealed meats - enough protein to keep a whole family afloat for months.

Closing the door, she pulled a stack of post-it notes from her pocket and penned a reminder. Seeing all the produce he’d got neatly tucked away reminded her of her teenage years.

Having lost her parents young, she had grown up travelling the world with her uncle and along the way she had gathered herself some producing and growing skills, mainly vegetables and greens, but useful nonetheless. Aiming to reinvigorate her knowledge of horticulture, she wrote:

“Ask about potential vegetable patch/greenhouse…CB”

Placing it on the front of the fridge, she admired the initials she’d signed off with. It hadn’t clicked until she’d come to the end that she could no longer refer to herself with her maiden name and she had hovered over the ‘C’ for longer than normal before sighing and signing with her new pseudonym instead.

Mentally exhausted from overthinking two small letters, she poured herself a glass of water from the tap and continued through into the lounge where she’d sat only hours before with her initial guardians.

It seemed larger and brighter now she actually had the time and a little more energy to view it.

The fireplace was extensive and contained a series of photographs in expressive frames. They must, she thought, have been set up there by someone else.

The first was of a group of young children. Ashamed, she felt badly that she couldn’t pick her host out of the line up. His face and features were still hazy, the only signifier she could recall was the mop of bright red hair that sat atop his head and possibly blue eyes...though she could have been mistaken.

Looking harder, she tried to squint, hoping that might clue her in as to which of the children was Jamie. Giving up, she carried on along the line, smiling as the young girl turned into a young woman. It must be his sister, she pondered, touching the tip of the frame as she looked over the wedding photos. The dress was stunning, the groom looking favourably over at his new bride whilst the crew in the background threw confetti in the air above them.

Picking out Jamie, she noticed his tight smile and high cheekbones. She felt relieved, having not been able to determine who he was in the earlier line-up had made her instantly abashed but at least somewhere in the back of her mind she’d had the forethought to note his defining features in her tired haze.

Towards the back of the ground floor she found a small sitting room. It contained the TV and some rather large overfilled bookcases and looked out over the small garden to the rear. Although she knew she wasn’t supposed to leave the house, she enjoyed -for a moment- sitting on the arm of the chair and looking out across the fields. The sun was still low in the sky and the wind was blowing the long grass gently whilst clouds occasionally masked the sun from view.

The space was enclosed with a waist high stonewall along the top which ran from an outhouse building, to a gate and then on to a covered open-shed arrangement. To the right and behind the shed was a row of rather tall trees. These captured her attention for several minutes as she watched the branches sway and the birds flit in and out of the woodland area. She could almost smell the scent of the spring day and taste the pollen on her tongue as she leaned closer to the window.

It was there she sat for several hours before her stomach growled angrily, reminding her of how little she’d eaten over the weekend.

Making herself a quick sandwich, she wrote out a ‘thank you’ post-it before returning back to her room. She knew Jamie probably wouldn’t be home for a while but the chime of the clock as she’d cleaned up her plate had made her suddenly nervous, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to make idle conversation yet, and she’d escaped just in case he came home out of the blue to check she was alright.

As it stood, though, he hadn’t and didn’t arrive home until well into the evening. The sun had already begun to set as she put down her kindle at the sound of the door opening and closing.

She knew it was dinner time and the afternoon had passed so quickly that she had barely looked up since she’d returned to her room. Glancing out of the window, she watched the birds fly across the inky blue sky, the orange hue slowly fading as late afternoon turned into evening. Warring with herself, she argued over going down, her mind compromised by her unwillingness to seek out company. She would, after all, have to succumb at some point - it would be rude not to.

Having some form of sixth sense on the matter, Jamie appeared to understand her a little more than she did herself, and for the next few days he allowed her time to adjust and settle.

He would come home at a normal time and, instead of crowding her, he prepared supper, placed hers in the microwave, and then placed himself in the study until bedtime. By the middle of the week she had become accustomed to this routine and would often wait for him to close himself in his own quarters before sneaking back downstairs to eat herself.

As this progressed, her post-it notes become more frequent and she would often add small doodles with large smiley-face stickman on them. Jamie found these endearing, it had been a long time since he’d had anyone else living in the family home and it was a nice surprise to find that he enjoyed it - even if it was only the small noises of Claire moving about that clued him in as to her presence. Stashing the notes in the back of his jeans pocket, he began to collect them, placing them on the pin-board in his small office as he did so.

By the end of the day on Friday he had managed to arrange them into ‘thank you’ notes and ‘question’ notes and had created a set of his own which he aimed to place on the fridge for the following morning. All of these were answers to her queries. Intrigued by her idea for a vegetable patch in the yard, he had returned that specific ask with a list of items he’d ordered from locals and friends which he aimed to have ready for the weekend - this was the one he was most proud of.

“Wire and mesh for coverings, 4 X wooden planks for a raised surround, fertile soil, seeds, glass sheeting to be cut in prep for greenhouse, assorted spring veg selection...JF”

That had been left on Wednesday and he was chuffed to return home in the evening to find a rather large spaghetti bolognaise aside his newest ‘thank you’ note.

Having made the bolognaise she had shyly returned to her room, the message hidden away in her pocket as she’d sat at the desk for the evening to research plant and vegetable growth extensively. There hadn’t been many evenings in her old life where she’d had the time to process alone, and so even though she knew her hobiting away time was coming to an end, she was grateful to have been allowed the week to relax.

Through the use of notes, she had built herself a mental picture of Jamie and his personality. He, at the beginning of the week, had left her meals and then absconded so that she could eat alone, but by the end of Friday their roles had been reversed as she felt he shouldn’t have to take care of her when he’d been out at work all day. She didn’t have a large cooking repertoire, but there were plenty of cookery books hidden in one of the cupboards and she’d taken to reading them to pick out the easier looking recipes to trial.

There had been some mistakes. Some burned pasta (which she hadn’t known to be a possibility until she’d achieved it) but overall it hadn’t been too traumatic.

Peeling open her book, she pulled the post-it -which had now lost most of its stickiness- and ran her fingers over the text. She couldn’t deny how excited she was over the prospect of a garden of her own. The overwhelming thoughtfulness of it was helping to coax her out of her bedroom and she resolved to use the weekend to thank him in person.

As much as she was revelling in their silent, written communications, there was little chance she was (or should be) able to avoid total human interaction for the next 11 weeks. He was going above and beyond for her, changing his own habits whilst she reassessed her life -something few others, she thought, would do for a complete stranger.

With her decision made, resolved to be more social in the morning, she curled up under her duvet with her newest book. Before she knew it, the words were bleeding together, her eyes struggling to remain open as she fell into a dreamless sleep.  

[satanherfuckingself]

Hayley Atwell. Publicly Adored Psychopath.

Before I begin, I feel it's imperative to mention that this was not created to cause harm. Do not send anyone hatred or harassment despite what you may read. You are not a monster. Do not stoop to that level. Verbal abuse is still abuse, whether we acknowledge it or not, whether someone 'deserves' it or not.

Please, do not do that. Do not become an abuser. If you feel the need to do something, I will provide solutions for that fact, but hatred and harm will not solve anything.

Keep that in mind. And please stay tuned and read this thoroughly because it's more than just a social call out. It's more than just 'cancel culture' or someone making a big whoop over something nonsensical or even holding someone accountable for their actions. I promise there is a point to this, and it is probably far more important than the title even suggests.

Please, stick with it, and read to the end.

I also feel the need to mention that some of the behaviors discussed in this piece will undoubtedly be quite... disturbing. Proceed with caution if you find it necessary.

And. Let it be known that any claims made here are in fact alleged. Evidence and sources will be provided of course, that's simply a friendly reminder for the... legality of it.

Forgive me if you enjoy this ending because if you have any sense of a decent moral compass, this will probably shatter that enjoyment of it, and forgive me if you do not because this will only make you hate it more.

So I found this blog:

Hydra Support Blog

Really, it's a blog centered entirely around hating Sharon Carter, the very real person that was her actress, Emily VanCamp, encouraging hatred towards this same very real person and her fans for any scrounged up nonexistent reason they can find, without proof, as well as fans of the comics.

They also insult her acting, despite the fact that Emily actually has won awards for her performances while the idol they are so devoted to has not.

All for the sake of the very real bully who actively encouraged, manipulated, and even to some degree, promoted the behavior. Under the guise of promoting her own character.

Why did I call them a Hydra support blog?

Well, quite clearly, they support the Creepy Uncle Theory that Endgame made a point to reward them with, which certainly does require the support of Hydra among other things, but I won't dive into that just yet. It's also because they sound exactly like Zola. Don't worry, we'll come back to it. But they are also quite clearly overjoyed at the idea of someone losing a job for their personal enjoyment.

This is also terrible.

Allow me to remind that this harassment and hatred was not limited to these fans, or fans of Peggy or Steggy. It also existed, to some degree among Romanogers fans, Stucky fans, and Stony fans. You know who you are. And you are certainly not excused from this behavior if you in any way participated in spreading hatred or contempt for the Staron and Sharon fanbase, or actively harassing those fans.

You don't have to like it, you can even rant against it all you like in your personal spaces. But being respectful and understanding should be the common fucking courteousy here. People are allowed to like different things from you. And they are not obligated to agree with you.

Your personal enjoyment is not worth more than someone's job or life. And it never should be.

However, the only actress who encouraged this particular behavior in full, among her fans... was Atwell.

Not Emily, not Chris, not Scarlett, not Sebastian, and not Robert Downey Jr. Some may have made tasteless jokes or even gone along with the situation, encouraging 'teams' among fans for publicity. I wouldn't label complete blamelessness in this case, but it is important to recognize ignorance over malicious behavior, which is the difference here. Because it was nothing to the extent of the tantrum that Atwell threw the moment the spotlight was no longer on her.

So let's talk about Hayley Atwell, and her involvement in all of this, the alleged actions and their implications. Let's take a deep dive into the psychology of it all, and why what she did was actually very wrong. I'll touch on the lack of etiquette and class as well as blatant unprofessionalism needed to consciously do what she did.

Because her behavior is disturbing, it is disgusting, and it has gone unnoticed for far too long. Her portrayal of Peggy makes the relationship canonically abusive. And no one noticed.

People are still defending her, and respecting her, despite what she's done. She is welcome to have a life and live it how she pleases, but not at the expense of other people. We cannot simply reward this type of behavior when it is unquestionably wrong. We cannot leave her with the power to do worse.

A good starting point in understanding what she's done would be here:

Receipts

Who one lovely sweetheart of a blogger decided to compile and I am ever so grateful for, as I'm a lazy shit~. My only regret is that this wasn't seen and still hasn't been seen by enough people, especially by those that rewarded or are even promoting the behavior still. This blogger is a very good person and that is abundantly clear, send her some love and reblog that post if you can. It's necessary more people see it. Thank you, love, you are truly a blessing. So I'm a little bias, I tend to be for good people.

Allow me to expand on it though, as I do have to mention, I have just a few minor additions and concerns. However, sources are provided perfectly, along with plenty of evidence to stand on it's own for what Atwell did. That this was active, deliberate, and intentional to hurt someone's career that wasn't herself. Allegedly.

But, let's also debunk some of Atwell's claims and mention a few other things, starting with all her claims about the relationship between Sharon and Steve. Between being 'disrespectful' and 'incestuous'.

Claims easily found in these articles:

https://ew.com/article/2016/06/06/captain-america-civil-war-hayley-atwell-steve-sharon/

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/heat-vision/peggy-carter-does-not-approve-899860

https://www.hypable.com/captain-america-civil-war-hayley-atwell-steve-and-sharon-were-disrespectful/

https://www.thewrap.com/hayley-atwell-agent-carter-captain-america-civil-war-kiss-sharon-carter-marvel-incestuous-disrespectful/

https://www.cinemablend.com/new/Hayley-Atwell-Issue-With-Captain-America-Agent-13-Kiss-Civil-War-135197.html

https://www.bustle.com/articles/165038-hayley-atwell-reveals-peggys-feelings-about-steve-sharon-which-are-just-what-youd-expect

https://www.bustle.com/articles/165194-why-captain-america-sharon-carters-relationship-does-a-disservice-to-both-fans-steve-rogers

https://www.themarysue.com/peggy-carter-does-not-approve/

Oh, and look at that last one, including a gif of the psychotic rage it takes to shoot at someone who doesn't belong to you, because you're jealous... And of course, we love a good afterthought in which a real person is less important than a fictional story.

https://screenrant.com/captain-america-mcu-ending-problem-sharon-carter-endgame/

Did I need to include all of those sources? Of course not. Are they mostly along the same lines? Absolutely. But does it make a point of how positively this was covered as the media ran with her words to give her as much press and coverage as she wanted and promote her and only her ideas?

Absolutely...

To put it all very bluntly, I disagree with her. Why?

Well, for starters, we know that 'Peggy' had initially moved on from Steve. She'd married, had a family, supposedly loved this family and even had grandchildren. The character had always, comics alike but even in the MCU, been meant to signify and aid in Steve moving on, just as she did, from the past. It was a minor role, but still vital, and quite endearing when done this way.

But according to this, these articles and Atwell herself.

Peggy never loved the husband she'd initially married, or the family she'd made.

They were only placeholders for Steve.

According to her, Steve wasn't allowed to move on from her. Wasn't permitted to find happiness, beyond her, even though her character had blatantly stated she wanted him to in 'CA:TWS'. As proven even by Atwell's feelings towards Romanogers. Seemingly any woman that wasn't Peggy was an absolute 'no' for her. Because he belonged to 'Peggy'. I didn't know... slavery was a thing for her, but as far as I know, people cannot and should not be ownable.

Under no circumstances, even with married couples, should the people involved be considered property. They are individuals and human beings. Point blank. Period.

But let's make an exception in her case and say that this is true. Well, apparently this controlled permission and ownership extends to Sharon as well?

Now I'll ask, why is Peggy's opinion, a woman Steve had previously only shared one kiss with, had never even managed to share that one date with, relevant at all?

A woman who, need I remind you is well into her 90s by the time we see her again, is Steve still supposedly all she thinks about? All she thought about all those years? Why was a picture of... him on her desk in the 70s, as portrayed in Endgame, when she should have been married, with children, well into her 50s mind you but somehow still young, and apparently, none of her family is as important as Steve?

How is that healthy?

She was tantamount to an ex-lover at that point. Even if they had slept together, as Atwell claimed, and Evans and the writers disproved. Are people supposed to consult ex-lovers before they start dating someone else? Especially ones that get married and live their lives? Is there some unspoken rule I don't know about? Or in another sense, I wasn't aware she was also his mother and could decide for him, a grown man with a right to his own decisions and autonomy, who had initiated the romance with Sharon, what he could and could not do.

Ideally, Peggy would have cared more about Sharon, a niece she had supported in her endeavors and helped raise, rather than a man she admired symbolically and had shared one kiss with, and never managed to date. Just because she didn't get dick from him. Ideally, she would have cared more about the family she'd allegedly made after moving on from this man's death. A family, Sharon would have been a part of.

Her concerns shouldn't have been cockblocking Steve and saying he couldn't have Sharon and vice versa, they should have been whether or not he's treating Sharon right. And far more protective over Sharon, than possessive over Steve.

In fact, a good great aunt who'd truly loved both of them, faced with this situation, I would have even imagined trying to set them up, and being that scandalous older woman~, who's lived her life, had fun, loved her family, and wants to see him happy with someone else.

Because that's what true love is.

Wanting to see the person you love, happy, even if it's without you, even if it can't be you that gives them that happiness, especially if you've had to move on in your own life and can't be with them.

I fail to see how Steve moving on after she has too, qualifies as 'disrespectful'. Even if you find it tasteless that he kissed Sharon after her death. Could he have asked for her permission and blessing for the relationship? Of course! Maybe he should have, I think this would have even made it better. The difference being, a Peggy who truly cared about him would have given her blessing, not withheld it.

But what about the 'incestuous' aspect?

Well, that's also a no. At least... not technically, and certainly not before Peggy was forced back into the relationship, before Steve willingly and knowing became Sharon's uncle. And Peggy's placeholders were set aside like chopped liver. Steve was certainly in a peculiar situation that maybe doesn't look the best from the exterior, and in the original version of the comics, Sharon was merely Peggy's younger sister. However, the comparison of his situation is easily explained and understood in much better lighting with some simple imagination.

Take for example, and let's even make Sharon a more direct descendant just to drive the point home, if Steve were an ancient vampire.

Let's say... this vampire Steve has a brief romantic fling with a young and beautiful Peggy. They do not sleep together. But share some feelings, some sweet passings, and a single kiss. However, Steve goes dormant, for years and years and years on end. However vampires do. Peggy is understandably sad for the moment, perhaps upset. But she moves on. She understands, she falls in love with someone new, she has children, and her children have children, and so on and so forth. She lives a normal human life.

Steve wakes up.

And he meets Sharon. A however many greats granddaughter of the woman he was once infatuated with. But he may not necessarily know this. They look nothing alike. But maybe there's something special in the bloodline that draws them together, that draws him to her.

Oh, and by the way, this is starting to sound familiar. Ever heard of the 'Vampire Diaries'? Except Elena and Katherine do in fact look exactly alike.

Yet no one bats an eye at this or calls it incestuous.

The point being, he falls in love. And she does too. And maybe this time, he decides he wants someone to be with, to hold, wholly and completely. And he turns Sharon into his immortal lover. (There's a fic idea for anyone that wants it~!)

Perhaps this was even something that under circumstance, he couldn't offer to Peggy, or she had even rejected.

This is not incest, in any way, shape, or form. This is a man, faced with a circumstance, in which he moves on. And is happy to do so. There is nothing wrong with that.

Could it be a little strange that he happens to fall for someone in Peggy's bloodline? Sure. But it's still not incest.

Unless~, he falls in love with Sharon... before deciding on takebacksies and finding a way to go back in time just to be with her however many greats grandmother. Possibly even ensuring that his own blood is part of Sharon's, or erasing her from existence along with any of the other family that Peggy had allegedly loved.

The first one is perfectly understandable. The second one is disgusting.

Peggy makes it incestuous.

But I suppose, according to Atwell, Peggy was also incapable of love.

Not just loving other people besides Steve, but love in general. Because this is called obsession, and it's sick. It's disturbing. Can't tell the difference? Here, that should help. This one too, very informative and does a good job of simplifying this concept for the average person. And what a coincidence. Oh, and look, another. And another.

Seriously, this is what Marvel, and Disney, a modern day company that should be responsible with it's messages and stories, glorified and normalized for the public.

If you're going to write a horror story, at least say it's a fucking horror story. Or take the goddamn criticism when someone tells you it is objectively bad.

So, not only did this woman completely fabricate and romanticize a crush, an unhealthy one, and blow it up to be a real relationship along with convincing everyone of the lie, she put others down to do so in order to get what she wanted, regardless of the price that others had to pay for it. Lovely. I think her claims completely undermine and disregard the legacy Peggy had left behind, and the love she would have otherwise had for her family. I think it's a gross mischaracterization of her that misses the mark on who 'Peggy Carter' was and what she represents.

Did you know that in the comics she has a relationship with Gabe Jones? One of Steve's own Howlies no less, and a wonderful representation of an interracial love fighting for what's right, together, especially for the time period?

Where's that love story, that doesn't require Steve to be a creepy uncle for her sake and is more than just an obsessive crush and single kiss?

Why does Sharon not matter to her? Why did her husband not matter? Why did her kids not matter?

And if you're under the assumption that Steve was this person the entire time, why did Hydra not matter growing within S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why did Steve's own principles and who he was not matter to her anymore, as long as she was getting dick? Why did Bucky not matter, being tortured by Hydra for the 70 years she got to get off?

Nevermind, I guess she treated him like shit anyway, even if ideally, the flirtatious little shit Bucky was would have been the best man at Steve's wedding to her, an uncle to her kids, and the best friend that Steve had in his life with her.

Why did Sharon still not matter to her? Nor her other family which she apparently lied to? Why did young Steve not matter enough to tell the truth to? And lie about Alzheimer's no less. Why did she seem to find it fitting to lie to everyone?

Let's continue.

If that's not enough, let's talk about the cry that Steve somehow 'wasn't good enough' for or 'didn't deserve' Peggy when the kiss of Civil War happened.

Okay...

How?

Because if your reasoning for the logic of putting someone down, telling them they are lesser, and 'not good enough' or undeserving of you, is because they choose to 'move on' and not be with you, or choose someone else over you?

You are a terrible person. And I would not want to be the object of your affection.

That is deliberate psychological abuse. And if you tell anyone that sort of thing, just because they don't or can't return your feelings, you are a fucked up person. Fuck you. That is disgusting.

Do not ever tell someone this just because they can't or choose not to love you. Apologize if you ever have, especially to someone you do love. Love is not always an active choice. And this is guilt tripping, manipulating, gaslighting someone into a situation where you put them down for your personal benefit, and that is nasty, unacceptable behavior that no one should tolerate.

Call out someone's own terrible behavior if they are doing something wrong, do not jump to the conclusion that this means the person is worthless. There is a difference. Harmful behaviors can be changed. People can change and get better. We should strive to be better.

However, the aforementioned? That is what psychopaths do to ensure their control over a relationship, run if someone is doing this to you. Find a way to get out of there if you can, because that is fucked up, and no, you deserve better than that. Do not let them belittle you.

And yet, this was... completely glorified by the media, even rewarding someone who committed to this type of behavior. Especially after the fact.

How many articles are there out there that critique Endgame versus those that promote this ending and actively defend it? Giving Disney good press?

But luckily, Atwell only did it with the characters, right? It's only fictional, right?

Yeah, that's why we didn't see Emily in Infinity Wars or Endgame... That's why, even though she'd been hired for a job she had earned, they kept kicking her down the road like a bent, empty can. Worthless and usable, and not a real person at all. Why did they hire her if this had 'always been the plan' as they claimed? To disgust everyone? To make the ending as fucking shitty as it is and have people praise them for it? To publicly embarrass and humiliate her, just because?

The lack of class and just... human decency necessary to commit this kind of behavior is easily seen with a hypothetical comparison, simply with another well beloved actress I will admit might not be a fully fair comparison. But that's because this actress is amazing and not many people compare to her.

But let's take a pause and also consider the actions of Atwell's coworkers, since none of them did quite what she did. None of them... did quite what she did.

You know who else would never do this, even if she'd been playing Peggy Carter and got her show cancelled? Who realistically, wouldn't have gotten her show cancelled because she actually is amazing and would be worth watching, hands down, no complaints.

Sandra Bullock.

And I'd hate to name drop like that or put her on the spot, but just consider it for a moment. Sandy B. as Peggy Carter. Already, beautiful, elegant, amazing, maybe a bit funnier, compassionate, kind, and playing the part of the loving aunt for Sharon perfectly. Even more comic accurate probably! Sandra Bullock would never take time out of her day for any reason, to put down one of her costar's characters and talk trash about this character and the relationship she's in with another character... Ever. Period.

She has class, grace. And she's a truly, genuinely good human being. In fact, I would wager to say, she'd make jokes about it to promote the relationship. As the crazy aunt who's constantly trying to set Steve up with someone new, probably her niece, and embarrassing the shit out of him. And that image is just fucking adorable.

Can you picture it? It's pretty amazing, right?

Now can you really defend Atwell's actions knowing they could have been avoided and a real person, real people, not hurt with them?

I guarantee this ending would have never happened had someone at least like Sandra Bullock been cast as Peggy Carter. Even if she did happen to 'ship' Peggy and Steve more than she did Sharon and Steve. Even if she did 'joke' about it. Especially when there's a point the jokes go too far. And I'd wager to say, she'd even focus more on helping Emily VanCamp, than putting down her character and sicking her pack or rabid bullies on her to try and get her to kill herself.

What the actual fuck has to be wrong with someone to do something like that. Even without giving the direct order.

And sure, maybe fans do ride the crazy train a bit to much. But the least we could expect from Bullock would be a public statement regarding the behavior, and letting fans know that she doesn't condone it and would want them to stop.

I challenge you to find anything along those lines that Atwell could have done. I tried.

And there was nothing.

Let's continue with the character analysis and talk a bit about the implications of this ending.

So far, we know Peggy hated Sharon, her own niece, that she 'owns' Steve and has all rights to his autonomy and decisions, doesn't care about her husband or family if Steve isn't somehow part of it, and would label Steve 'unworthy' of her if he somehow decided he loved someone else. Not just Sharon, but anyone.

Let's also not forget this is a woman who shot at him for having kissed someone else in front of her. When they weren't together. Would you want and choose to date someone who shot at you for doing that?

I mean, I suppose I don't personally know you, maybe you're into some kinky shit. But that doesn't really seem to healthy to me.

Let's talk about little Steve and Erskine, and the promise Steve made to him as well as himself. His character development over the movies and what this ending requires not just of him, but of Peggy too.

From the first movie, we know that even when Steve wasn't capable of doing more, when his body didn't permit him to, he always wanted to do more. Erskine in his dying moment asked him not to forget his heart. The man that would choose to do good above all else. To help those around him that maybe couldn't help themselves. This is an invaluable lesson I think we could all learn from, within our capacities of course.

Bucky even tried to stop Steve from hurting himself, because he worried about him. And then followed him because he admired what the little guy... had always stood for. And against.

“I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't like bullies, I don't care where they're from.”

By the end of the film, Steve has lost someone incredibly dear to him that he grew up with, Bucky, and makes the decision to save thousands of lives that would otherwise be lost over his own personal enjoyment. Because it's the right decision. And he tells Peggy it's his choice. He doesn't hesitate. He doesn't expect to survive, but he keeps his promise to Erskine above all else, and stops Hydra, or so we think.

We later discover Hydra has survived all those years through Zola. Growing in S.H.I.E.L.D., under Peggy's watchful eyes... holding Bucky for all that time.

With the addition of Endgame's Creepy Uncle Theory, that little tidbit of the story, we've been given two interpretations. There's also a lot of lines that lose all meaning, from Steve, Peggy, and Sharon.

“When I see a situation pointed south, I can't ignore it.”

“Sometimes, all we can do is our best, and sometimes the best is the start over.”

“She kept so many secrets, I didn't want her to have one from you.”

“I don't know, the guy who wanted all of that went into the ice 70 years ago, I think someone else came out.”

But let's go back to those interpretations, both of which require someone to suffer on Steve and Peggy's behalf for a minimum of 70 years. Apart from becoming a creepy uncle who apparently had been only using Sharon as a replacement for her. And of course abandoning everyone who loved him just to get laid. This may not be easily seen or understood at first glance. But it is easily explained and should be painfully obvious.

If Steve is present in the main universe that entire time, choosing to do nothing, he has:

Abandoned Sharon.

Abandoned his family, the Avengers.

Abandoned Bucky.

Abandoned the principles he lived by and thrown away promises to all those he held dear. Including his promise to Erskine, who gave him that power to do more to begin with.

Left Hydra undisturbed and even prospering under his beloved wife's organization, allowing people to die and suffer, including Bucky who we know is tortured and in and out of ice for those years.

Be perfectly happy with the sexism, racism, and just general bigotry of the time period. Something that at least comics Steve Rogers has been proven to hate so much, he actively made himself go forward in time permanently, after only saving Bucky, because he couldn't stand it. No amount of Peggy to fix the situation for him. She's also never mattered as much as any other love interest to him. Not even Blind Al, that one's obscure~.

Be perfectly happy to do nothing while a situation is pointed south, even though he has previously stated incapable of doing so? While he knows what will happen or that people are suffering and dying for him and Peggy, what he will do to Sharon, and just completely and utterly not giving a shit.

Huh... Well, none of that sounds 'good'. I guess it also means he completely regrets his decision to save all those lives and sacrifice himself. A decision... I assumed he was the type of person to be able to make more than once if necessary. Because it was who he was. And supposedly, what Peggy even respected him for. I assumed Peggy would have also respected this decision, not backtracked to make him actively do the opposite of this very thing for 70 years. Possibly even... if we're to believe Hydra is allowed to run rampant all those years, potentially thousands of lives to be killed on his behalf instead.

Huh, I guess it was a pointless decision.

“We don't trade lives.”

Right?

And we're supposed to believe Mjolnir, a tool essentially measuring 'selflessness' and humility, purity of heart, 'worthiness', would be perfectly fine with labeling this behavior as 'good' as well.

That just seems like a pipe dream for every sod who can't get laid and has a backwards moral compass, but let's not dive into that.

Despite the fact that he's also abandoning all sense of self and is nothing more than a mindless puppet at this point. Through 'Steve Rogers' choosing this ending... he is actively doing wrong, and knows it. He is actively allowing Hydra to prosper, and... essentially...

Proving Zola right.

“We won, Captain. Your life amounts to your death, a zero sum!”

Familiar now, isn't it? But I guess every message we learned about Steve, in light of everything, in light of Peggy, is meaningless so long as he's... getting laid. Or 'happy'.

That doesn't sound fucked up at all, being perfectly okay with people suffering on your behalf. But I suppose it's no surprise that the people who love Atwell so much and are perfectly okay with her behavior feel the same way...

And here's the thing, I don't think 'Steve Rogers'... the real one in context of his story anyway, would be happy in a setting he needs to let others suffer on his behalf, and ignore their suffering, in order for him to be happy. Looking at his character just over the previous movies, I'd say this would in actuality be literal torment for him.

Spidey gave a perfect rendition that completely embodied everything Steve Rogers stands for and had stood for in those movies.

“When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen... They happen because of you...”

What a coincidence. And another important message.

If you actually think a man like Steve, a first responder by nature, who always seeks out the goodness in others and wants to help people, would suddenly sit on his ass and allow people to suffer for him? When he couldn't even do this while too small to make any real impact?

You are delusional. And it is disturbing that you would somehow label that as 'good', as 'cute', as 'healthy', as 'right', as 'true love'. As 'happy' for him.

This is a man, forced into retirement, under the 'guise' of a 'choice', when in reality, it is atrociously horrible writing that disregards anything about who he was and what he stood for. That had he been real, this would have been a disservice to him and is certainly one to every important message the character has, and the history behind him. He would have been stuck in this world. Trapped, and held back from doing anything. By someone who supposedly 'loves' him?

Love doesn't hold people back or hold on possessively like a fucking parasite, it sets people free.

Why would she do that to him? Why would she sit back and assume all of those things are 'okay'? How? Why would anyone want her to??? I thought Peggy was supposed to be a good character inspired by upholding his message. Did she break the vial? Did she keep him in her basement? Did she tell him to sit on his ass and 'look pretty' while she did all the work? A fucking horrible job I might add, if she just lets Hydra run rampant and kill Howard for her sake. How is someone like that admired as a 'good' person?

Nothing about this is 'good'.

This ending is not 'beautiful'. It is a horror story masquerading as something 'pretty'. It is an abuse story being normalized to a vast and unknowing public. At best, a horribly irresponsible message to send the public... and at worst... a reflection of what's wrong with society as a whole. Possibly with ulterior and deliberate intentions.

In order for this ending to happen, Steve Rogers must cut ties with his family and abandon all he loved, loves, lives for, all sense of self... all for Peggy, and solely Peggy's, satisfaction. Seems oddly... familiar to a certain situation his best friend, who seemingly means nothing to him, happened to be in... for 70 years.

Let's reverse the roles. If Steve had been a female to do this for a man's sake? The first thing people would notice is how unhealthy the relationship is. How obsessive it is. How harmful it is. And how disgusting the normalization of it is. In a media that has a far reach and should be so much more fucking responsible with the messages they send their viewers.

Knowing that there are so many sacrifices, ones that shouldn't be made, and that every sacrifice comes from Steve's end, would you willingly call this relationship healthy? Beautiful? 'True love'?

When in reality, they'd only shared one kiss, and never dated?

Yeah. Seems legit.

On the flip side, you have that other interpretation, right? The one where he's in an alternate universe and lets his Peggy live her life with another man, but steals this Peggy both from her future husband and himself.

You'd think it gets better, right? I mean he can fix this universe in full, he might fuck something up and we might consider it a bit irresponsible to play with timelines like that, but he can always just go back if it goes too bad. He's earned it, his shot at this life, still disregarding Sharon and now... a version of himself. A Steve still trapped in the ice. Still suffering on his behalf. While he lives out his life with supposedly this Steve's girl, this Steve's Bucky, and this Steve's entire potential life.

Oh, and apparently this Peggy really doesn't care about the Steve trapped in the ice, since she's also fine with a replacement that's totally different from the one she knew~! That's not weird or fucked up at all.

Leaving him to wake up, alone, in the future having known the life he wanted was knowingly taken by someone else. Someone selfish enough to leave him in the ice. Bucky's alive and safe from Hydra, yay! Apparently... no version from this alternate universe is worth giving the shield to though. So I guess Steve ultimately didn't love these replacements as much. And of course, this is assuming Steve doesn't also just leave this universe as is for everything else terrible to happen.

This is assuming he gives a shit at all. Because if he had?

Tell me why... defrosting the alternate Steve to live out a life with his own Peggy, to at least make sure one of them got that 'happy ending', could still do good, without abandoning anyone, could kick ass, could fix everything in this alternate timeline, maybe even with a few tips from this time traveling Steve, somehow wasn't acceptable compared to 'Steve Rogers' actively and willingly doing, and allowing terrible things to happen, and abandoning everyone else who loved him.

Once again, cut off from his family and replacing them all with clones.

This is supposed to be better?

Did he ever really love Peggy, or just the way she looked since any identical twin happened to work just fine?

Tell me why, if Chris Evans just wanted to stop playing the role, Steve going back for just the dance and asking for Peggy's blessing to marry Sharon, presumably after they'd actually made an effort to develop the relationship, presumably after Peggy has made her peace with loving someone else, and then coming back to not abandon his family or any of his principles or promises he made, or just who he is in general, and proposing to Sharon with Peggy's blessing and understanding, wouldn't have been better and more respectful in all ways?

With the characters, with their history, with their messages. Tell me how it wouldn't have been better to simply have him out of the spotlight and training recruits, but still actively being who he was and doing good somehow couldn't have been acceptable?

There, I can write a better ending than those quack professionals Marvel hired. Simple, easy, done. Where's my fucking job~?

Instead of demolishing every part of who he was, using an anti-bullying character... to reward bullying no less?

Even if Evans wanted to retire or would have made a decision like this, doesn't mean Cap would have ever even remotely done something similar. At least not a good version of him. Upholding the symbolic moral message the character presents would have been easy, but they were too stupid to even try.

Tell me how this ending doesn't disrespect a previous almost 60 years of an established comic relationship, a relationship need I remind in which Sharon was pregnant with Steve's child, one sadly lost, and later shared an adopted son with him. A relationship, that should they disrespect and retcon for Peggy's sake, will only serve to make Steve Rogers seem like a terrible person with no sense of loyalty to a woman he supposedly loved and has spent a good chunk of his life with. As opposed to sharing one kiss or brief romance with. For all intents and purposes, Sharon being his common law wife.

Ironically, the very thing Atwell claimed this relationship did in the MCU, despite the fact that her character only shared a single kiss with Steve, canonically. And she lied and actively manipulated fans into believing it was so much more. When... watch the movies, it wasn't.

Tell me how this ending doesn't disrespect the characters, including Peggy, and the messages they have conveyed, the convictions they've held over the years of their history, and the symbolism which I would argue is much more important, that they represent. Tell me how it doesn't somehow disrespect and belittle Bucky, Erskine, the idea that Howard was Steve's friend, or that any of the people Steve loved actually mattered to him, beyond Peggy.

Beyond getting laid. Because deny it all you want, that is what this ending boils down to. That is the only reason it exists.

Or, actually, I'd wager it also exists to actively squash the importance of the messages the characters convey.

Here's an idea. Johann Schmidt and comics Hydra Cap both have more conviction and loyalty to their cause than EG Cap. And Schmidt post IW/EG arguably causes less harm than EG Cap actively allows to happen right beside himself, because Schmidt is incapable of doing much as the stone's guardian.

And at least Hydra Cap made sense within the context of his storyline.

Prove me wrong.

That's the sort of Cap you have to support to like this ending. Hydra complacent, bigotry complacent, and completely castrated, or at the very least, willing to replace everyone he loves with clones while he takes an alternate Steve's life. Frankly, that's not a Cap I think anyone should support. And I don't think any fans, especially Peggy or Steggy fans should be somehow proud of the fact that this is the sort of 'Steve' that Peggy gets.

I mean... I suppose it is in fact the kind of Steve that sort of Peggy, equally complacent and horrible, would deserve? But that doesn't really stop it from being gross, does it?

Is that really what you'd want as a fan?

I've mentioned that Atwell's alleged behavior is inappropriate, excessive, disturbing. And I'll also mention, this kind of obsession for fictional characters is unhealthy. So why did she do this? Why the behavior at all, why did she go out of her way to essentially hurt Emily, discreetly of course, without people noticing? Why all the manipulation?

Well... it gets worse. And this is certainly where that allegedly becomes very important.

Take a moment to think for a minute about who benefited from this ending and how.

Atwell, most certainly, at Emily's expense of course. At the expense of fans. And an actual well written product we wouldn't get immediate buyer's remorse from. And of course maybe one that doesn't insult our intelligence?

You could assume she simply wanted money. Though somehow... that doesn't really fit. Maybe spotlight? That makes a little more sense, though just as bad. It's seedy, it's spiteful, it's uncomfortably close to a bad Harlequin manga villain. If you've ever read one of those.

They're based off old trashy romance novels if that gives any reference.

Except... what if you replaced every instance of 'Steve, Sharon, and Peggy', with instances of herself and Chris? With the names, 'Chris, Emily, and Hayley'.

Except Emily is happily married now, and can easily identify the difference between a romantic interest in her work, and in real life. Can easily discern a job from her private life. Because that's what a good, stable, actress or actor can easily do.

Suddenly, the situation takes on a very different meaning.

How creepy would that have been for her to do? Along with easily dismissed by the public.

Keep in mind, this is a woman who publicly admitted to, and even in plain view, groping this man, multiple times, without his explicit consent because she 'couldn't help herself'. Okay. Big deal, right? So she touched his 'man boobs' a couple times. He laughed it off, it was all good fun. Why would he complain, it's different, men shouldn't be complaining about being touched without their permission by beautiful women. Despite the fact that they're not, nor have they ever been, in a romantic relationship together.

It's perfectly appropriate for a woman to grope a man as she pleases, whether he is in a relationship with her or even other people, or not. He can't feel uncomfortable because of this, only woman can. Why would he ever be uncomfortable about it, and if he was, he would have said so. He loves her, they're friends!

Let me know if the hypocrisy needed for that logic is falling through the cracks here, because that seems like a dangerous double standard to set.

You shouldn't be allegedly or otherwise, touching or really molesting, in her own words 'groping', anyone publicly and suddenly, especially without their consent. But let's assume he was okay with every single time it had happened. Okay. Sure. Fine. It's his body to decide with who can touch him like that, who can invade his personal space and how, right? And besides, he loves the attention and being objectified by women.

That's clearly why he'll make an effort to actually call out and put people on the spot who pretend to talk to him through a faked photoshopped encounter, right? Clearly why he absolutely hates that.

Now let's assume he wasn't.

Why would he ever admit to that if the response we can expect is that 'he's a man, so he should be okay with it'? As if men somehow don't have a right to their own bodies or can't be sexually harassed and molested, abused, raped, you name it. Objectified maybe? Why would we be suspicious of the behavior or tell someone that it's wrong, without the full story even though it's happening in our plain view?

Playfulness and comfort between friends is one thing, boundaries between them is another, and friends can still cross boundaries they shouldn't. Sometimes they do. Consider the fact of a known straight man and a woman who is attracted to him, and suddenly the implications change. The man, so far, has not shown even remotely the same attraction.

But why would we suspect her behavior would entail anything other than support for her own character that she played, and the ship she was a part of, which had been respectfully written out of the story and made to move on? It's not like she was actively dragging down a woman, a real person, another actress that essentially got in her way, and the part she wanted to play. Kissing Chris Evans.

It's not like she claimed she'd be the best choice for Sharon's actress in blonde wig before Emily was cast. Oh wait...

Was that in that little blog sourcing everything she did and claimed? I can't remember.

And this is all speculation of course. But I think it's very important speculation. And especially, is a reason to be suspicious of everything she did. But I of course can't read her mind, only look at what she did do and what there's proof of. Allegedly.

Seems like an extreme extant to go to to to get an extra kiss from an actor, right? An actor who, mind you, dated other people, not her, and seemed to ultimately choose his dog over anyone. And of course, since we're speculating.

Under the pretense that 'Peggy' gets 'Steve', 'she' got the 'man' that everyone else wanted, right? She lived that fantasy, married him, and had kids with him, and everyone else is just jealous of her. The characters are meant for each other, she can take no blame in what's done with the characters.

Except when encouraging hatred among her fans and negative press for the company and story so long as it doesn't revolve around her.

In this light, looking at the facts, her alleged behavior is extremely creepy.

When you consider the fact that Evans suddenly, and I mean suddenly wanted to quit playing the character, seemingly out of nowhere when just a year before still wanting to do so, and at the same time, he admitted to loving the idea of continuing to play Cap, and even the prospect of doing a movie with Deadpool and Wolverine. Something that would have been brilliant by the way, and I lament that it apparently won't happen every day.

Source

Yes, there is a very special relationship there, read a fucking comic~.

Let's consider the fact that Evans said this about his 'final scene of Endgame'. To sow just a little bit of discord. Of course, there's no guarantee that this scene had anything to do with that one he shared with 'Peggy'. Speculation.

Let's assume it did. Let's go beyond and say, Hayley was the entire reason Evans wanted to quit. The entire reason he wouldn't fight this, and was done playing the character. Let's assume this was the last straw for him, and that he quit just to get away from her.

Allegedly.

Let's assume for just a moment, he was no longer comfortable or happy around this woman. And she was breaking him down. Let's assume he was just tired of all the bullshit, had maybe even seen it for what it really was, was even creeped out. And decided, sure. 'I'll keep my mouth shut... as long as I don't have to deal with her'.

We can also assume he's being... strongarmed into silence somehow, either by the company or by her. Maybe I'm going out on a limb here, but that man hasn't looked the slightest bit happy as of late, and it's noticeable in his interviews. Maybe there's a reason for that. But maybe this idea is pushing it a tad too far, let's take a step back for a moment and remember the simple fact that this is speculation.

Based on alleged actions and circumstantial evidence.

I could absolutely be wrong and I am willing to admit that.

If Chris Evans wanted to call me out on this, correct me about Atwell and her behavior specifically towards him in this regard, I would welcome it. Even if he managed to prove me wrong about the bullying, provide an article or interview of some kind that does in fact prove her innocence, I would be more than happy to take a look at it and retract everything I've mentioned here regarding her, and her behavior. Even delete this post, and publicly apologize to her.

I want to be wrong about this, because it is fucked up, it is creepy, it is something he should not have had to, or have to ever deal with. It is not something Emily should have ever had to deal with, let alone the fans.

Nor is it something that we should simply tolerate and accept from Hayley Atwell. From or towards anyone.

Chris Evans is a human being. Emily VanCamp is a human being. Both of them deserved the utmost respect from Atwell, along with everyone else, neither of them received this from her. Allegedly.

The messages conveyed by that rottenly horrific ending can't even begin to compare to how important this simple fact is.

Real people were hurt. Bullies were rewarded. This should not have happened. We cannot simply allow it to happen now, or in the future. We cannot simply allow more harm to be done, with the continued bullying from that Hydra Support Group I mentioned, and their continued attempts to get Emily fired and Sharon removed from the comics.

That they quite clearly don't give a shit to buy or even read.

Why is this important now, of all times, during a pandemic that is keeping us all indoors with nothing better to do?

Well for one, I'm indoors with nothing better to do than come across bullshit like this. There's also something to be publicly said about female abusers and how important it is that we start to recognize when these situations might be happening. Whether from a man or a woman. And whether to a man, or another woman. If she didn't hurt Chris, she certainly didn't hesitate to hurt Emily.

I have friends... that were living their lives off of the messages Cap taught and inspired in people. Good friends, good people. And maybe it seems silly to linger on something like that, but I can say first hand it is heartbreaking to watch those people get that same inspiration, those same moral messages ripped away, and stolen from them.

And be left struggling with trying to hold on to those messages, but try as they may, not being able to. And then come a few epiphanies, a few discoveries.

This shit. The bullying. The behavior, the fact that we as fans were given a normalized abusive relationship, and told it was somehow good, somehow just, somehow right. That that's the message we are being given in place of everything else...

I had a friend have a panic attack because of this ending, after she tried to rationalize that it was okay, that it was 'sweet', and 'cute', and understandable. Because it hit a little too fucking close to home for her, and now she just relives that, remembers it with almost any part of what her favorite thing in the world was. And that is horrifying to know...

“I helped support this. I gave them money. I dedicated years of my life to following this.”

And it goes so much more beyond regretting that decision. It goes so much more beyond being able to simply move on and somehow keep those symbols, or at least the core messages beyond them and disassociate them from the characters when you can't escape reminders of it. When you can see so incredibly clearly what it really means, what really happened, and everyone else around you just accepts that something so fundamentally wrong is something right.

Here's a question, can you sue a company that's so profoundly built an empire, so embedded itself into your day to day life that you can't escape a personal trauma being reminded of it in something you paid for and actively support for years from this company? Does that count as some form of being publicly irresponsible and projecting harmful ideologies?

Is that something someone can do, or is it just something a 'Karen' would do? Would the sheer evil it takes to become that type of person, to dawn that haircut and demand to speak to a manager be worth it in the end?

“What did it cost?”

“Everything...”

Yeah, it really fucking did.

Oh hey, by the way. Hayley Atwell is definitely a Karen. Just thought I might point that out. Why else would she throw a massive tantrum to get someone bullied out of a franchise because she's not getting her way or the spotlight on her? She's just an evolved one.

Allegedly.

I am all for people policing their own content and being respectful of creators, and understanding that fiction is different from reality. Not every concept will be stomachable or enjoyable by absolutely everyone. Horror in itself is a perfect example of that, especially psychological horror.

I can also say without a doubt that I hate knowing that the people I care about are so heavily affected by something they had initially used to make themselves a better person, that should remain fictional and symbolic but just somehow forces itself to go beyond that.

I hate knowing a corporation could be so irresponsible that this is the message they get billions of dollars for, that this is what they give to the public, that this lack of care or even noticing what they've done and who they've rewarded, and the continued behavior...

The bullying, and despite every piece of criticism screaming at them just how fucked up this is.

But no, they can't take two fucking seconds, to think 'maybe we made a bad move and shouldn't stick by this considering what it's done or is doing to fans'. 'Maybe we should be more responsible with the power and influence we happen to have'...

Except they knew.

“It might end the whole franchise.”

What kind of context am I supposed to imagine for those words. Especially in light of a franchise that had a multitude of plans to continue.

What the fuck does that mean?

And isn't that the most piss soaked cherry on top of this shit cake?

Hayley's words in the interview represent how little she cared about the character, about the franchise, about the fans, or the messages conveyed, as long as she got what she wanted.

And she did.

Publicly... adored... psychopath.

Allegedly.

Cap's core message is something so incredibly vital, I believe, to this world. Especially in these times. Especially when it comes to making progress.

“Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world –"No, you move."”

Especially in a world that will actively tell and show us that human lives aren't worth a dime a fucking dozen to the people we let control our world. Especially when we should be telling these same people.

“No, fuck you, that's wrong.”

And yeah, that fucking sucks. It fucking sucks to have family that is vulnerable to something potentially deadly, to be vulnerable to it, and have no control over that. It fucking sucks to know people you may trust will not even give a shit. And it is fucking hard to keep hope when everything around you just seems to be falling apart.

And you can't do a damn thing.

But this message teaches us just that. To not lose hope. To not lose faith. To keep fighting for what we believe in, and make things better. Isn't that the whole point of criticism? Challenging ideas, beliefs, so that we can discern right from wrong and have a better understanding of what that might be? So that we can improve? What a hell of time it would be to have this message with us. What a hell of a time for us to need this message, now more than anything... and not have it.

What a hell of a time for someone to willingly quit portraying and sending that message... Though I can't say I'd blame him, he's only human, it's a heavy burden to bear, and if Atwell really did do all of this just to kiss him... Allegedly.

Well, I'd wanna get away from her too. Provided it was willing at all. I get mixed signals from that guy. And trust him about as far as I can throw him. I am a weak bitch, so that is not very far... But... professional liar, so.

He could also be the world's biggest troll, cause I don't believe for a second he didn't know how fans would react to this. Which... biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch. But also, RESPECT.

And also, BITCH! Be serious for a goddamn second, this is fucking important!

But this message also teaches rebellion.

What a hell of a message to publicly squander in order to keep people complacent, for the sake of pretending someone gets a 'happy' horrific ending, finally getting laid. Like neither of those things were something that couldn't be found in the future while still preserving the legacy of the character.

Right?

Ironically, it was a message they had helped to represent with Sharon, and still there's the issue of her and fans being publicly bullied and disrespected, once again, a real person, people, for Atwell's sake.

If we only surround ourselves by those that tell us what we want to hear, rather than the truth, we can only stagnate our growth.

If we only care when we are finally forced to face the problems evident, can we really call ourselves virtuous?

If we do nothing knowing something is wrong, what does this say about us?

I'm just as guilty in not noticing these sorts of things as they happen until it's too late, but I'd like to hope I'm getting better and paying more attention, and that we can still do better.

What's the point of all this, and what can we do?

As I said before, I do not want to cause harm. I do not want people to go and harass anyone for alleged wrong doings or behavior of any sort. I do not want people to lose entire jobs or livelihoods over this. But it is clear something is wrong, and we certainly need to right it. I also don't believe any of the parties involved are somehow beyond redemption. Even Hayley.

If Marvel had any sense, especially now, they would retcon this, however necessary, first off. They don't even need Evans to do that, they can do something as simple as making a comic that undoes this nasty ending and saves Cap, and the other characters, from being made into an empty shell and castrated version of himself. Or at least make a solid plan to and very publicly apologize to Emily for the situation and discourage such behavior among their fandom. Hayley would do the same, not just to fans but especially to Emily, and maybe even Chris.

If you ever participated in this behavior and now understand that it was wrong, I would encourage you to go give Emily your love and support and apologize to her for this mess and what she had to deal with on behalf of fans. She deserved far better. She still deserves better.

If Hayley refused to acknowledge or even publicly address this? Or Marvel, Disney for that matter, well it would just go to show that they'd want it all swept under the rug instead of being held accountable for what happened. Something that's certainly a disrespect to Walt Disney , as he was able to make amends and admit to his mistakes publicly, and it's a stain on the legacy he left behind that the current Disney can hardly be bothered to.

And yes, believe it or not, there's a way to not let them do this without aggressive harassment.

My first suggestion is meme the shit out of it. Be an absolute troll and make a joke of this giant fucking joke of a company that can't even put two and two together for basic story elements. To an extant that will publicly embarrass them for sure, be relentless, but don't send hate.

Just show everyone the clowns they are~.

I've been told this can also be a bit mean though. And clearly, we can't simply let them forget it or forget it ourselves.

The second, ask questions. Simply ask for this to be addressed, try to get it noticed as best you can. Send them this across as many platforms as you can to as many people as you can. Or even just the smaller blogs I linked. Repost, reblog, and share this as much as you can and make it something they can't ignore without sending them direct hate and harassment. Copy and paste or just send a link to this in a concerned email to the corporation. Make sure their offices are absolutely buzzing with the news. Ask, don't demand, your favorite MCU actors to publicly speak out about this, please. Keep asking until you get some sort of response.

Without being rude.

Because it may take time, it may take effort, but it is important, and it certainly should be addressed. And never allowed to happen again.

As for Atwell and her bullies?

Well, first let me congratulate her.

She played herself. All those jokes about turning Peggy into a supervillain and that's exactly what she did. With her own wants and desires, not Peggy's.

But otherwise be kind, be courteous, and hold your grace and elegance. Treat her with the same respect you would want for yourself and do not stoop to her or their level. Do not insult her. Ask her, 'what's wrong'? Ask her why she did this, if she's okay. Ask her to stop, to speak out about it, to address the situation and to understand why she didn't do it sooner. Ask her if she's seeking help for whatever psychological issues she may have that would push her to do something like this, wish her well, and tell her you hope she finds the help she needs and learns that what she did was wrong. Let her know you're disappointed if you're a fan.

She definitely shouldn't be allowed to keep relishing in the reward and aftermath of what she did, and she definitely owes Emily, and possibly Chris, an apology for all the bullshit she encouraged and did. Her behavior, allegedly, is fucking creepy.

But she's still a human being, behaviors are correctable.

Simply address the fact that it was wrong and ask her if she understands that. Also maybe that... public molestation isn't okay? Allegedly.

Do the same for her bullies, if they are rude to you, simply tell them:

'Oh... you support Hydra... you're entitled to your opinion, but I'll have to disagree.'

And leave it at that. Just take comfort in the fact that you can recognize an abusive relationship and don't support it. You cannot force them to change their minds if they don't want to, do not antagonize them or potentially bring harm to yourself by doing so. And yes, that is admittedly a bit mean, a bit trollish~, and the reality is they probably don't support Hydra... But they also kinda have to to support this ending somehow.

The writers 'confirmed' Hydra Trash Party as canon while the directors 'confirmed' everyone in Steve's life being replaceable.

And he still becomes a creepy uncle while someone needs to suffer on his behalf for 70 years.

Fantastic~! I'm accepting neither and I give you no money until it's fixed! Because it's gross~!

If this situation is addressed by everyone involved, and any allegations and speculations I've made are in fact proven true, but let's say Atwell still publicly refuses to admit to anything she did or apologize to Emily. Even if Disney does. Well, she'll be proving exactly what type of person we suspect her to be. And only then would I consider it acceptable for the company to completely erase her from the franchise in turn and blacklist her from what they produce. Some people might consider that too nice, I think it's reasonable, you're free to disagree.

Not necessarily her character though, Peggy has actually done nothing wrong on her own, she's a fictional character best represented by good writers, and malleable according to that. And I would certainly even encourage much better character explorations and portrayals of her. But Hayley herself, who would then become pretty much a poster child for harassment and bullying, and defending psychopathic behaviors...

Allegedly.

If people try to silence you, ignore you, keep trying, keep spreading the message, keep going as much as you can, until we manage to get this addressed and the situation finally corrected.

Do not support the company, or actress that refuses to address this. Do not support people that do terrible things without holding them accountable. Do not allow them to simply get away with it, but do not lose your own humanity for their sake.

I know first hand how fucking hard it is not to lose your shit when shit like this happens. And nobody notices. But I guarantee, throwing a fit of rage will get nothing done, and they will try to use it against you.

If they manage to prove me wrong in any regards? Great! I will be fucking overjoyed! I hate the idea that evil is actively happening in the world and people do nothing about it, don't you?

And a friendly reminder.

You are not in anyway required to purchase anything from Marvel, any of the actual bullshit content and harmful ideas they refuse to take any criticism or responsibility for. You are not obligated to them just because you are a fan, and you do not owe them anything. If they want our money, they can earn it, but you can definitely get your fixes of good creative content elsewhere, and even support other artists. If this is what they provide, you do not have to support them. You can make your own. For free. And enjoy what others make for free. For any and all people part of an intricate creative community, fan fiction does not just have to be trashy romance or gay ass ships. That is a huge chunk of it, I won't even bother lying about that, I'm under no illusions otherwise.

But it can also be just simple storylines based off what canons you like, simple fan comics that maybe present a different sort of story arc you aren't seeing developed and wonder where you might go with it. It can be action, scifi, fantasy, horror. It can be any sort of fusion that you would enjoy. It can even be insanely good or horrendously bad! It can even be original fiction! And yes, you're more than allowed to publicly critique and parody the work these companies sell you, go write ahead~, and make a point of making something better. Because you can.

Or it can be shipping wars and nonsensical shit and trashy romance and smut. Again, no illusions that there's not a whole lot of that shit.

Or crack. Lots of crack fic.

But the beauty of it is that it's up to you. And you don't owe anyone anything because everything you get to make is free. But keep in mind that goes both ways in this aspect. For you and others, and I'd wager to say there are a lot of writers out there that can definitely do these characters and their messages a much better justice than the disservice and disrespect Marvel has given them and the fans. Especially as of late.

Lastly, especially in these times... do not lose hope.

Do not lose faith in the message Steve Rogers stands for, or in the hopes things may get better. For all of us. And for the character? That he may just yet be saved from quite plainly, all the bullshit. That any of your favorite characters might be given better treatment down the line. And if not?

Save 'em yourself. Make it better yourself. And make it known, no matter what happens, no matter what they do, these messages can't be squandered or destroyed. Hold them dear, and don't accept anything less than them being upheld, no matter how it's represented.

Particularly when you're paying for it. Don't harass small time writers that write self indulgent bullshit for free. Just police your content accordingly, please.

But the message?

That's what's important.

In conclusion?

'Logan' was the better movie. Hayley turned Peggy into 'Monika' of Doki Doki Literature Club. And Chris Evans chose his dog.

“I don't like bullies... I don't care where they're from.”

;)

[kewltie]

"Isn't he, like, thirty-something years old?" Eri says, voice pitched high in a scandalized tone. "That's half of his foot in the grave already! Why is he even dating a college student if this isn't some midlife crisis?!"

Izuku groans out loud. "Eri-chan, please have mercy." For someone who is describe as the takane no hana of their campus, Eri’s tongue can cut deeper than the sharp edge of a blade.

She shoots him a knowing glare. "He just wants a pretty young thing on his arms to compensate for his wrinkle old balls so don't you fall for it, Izuku-kun!"

Truly, the sharpest tongue.

Izuku's face gets so hot that he thinks he's going to combust at any moment from the embarrassment of this entire exchange. "T-that's not—" he starts, gearing up for a defense, but Eri's eyes suddenly widen in front of him and her jaw drops in shock as a hand covers Izuku's mouth to silence his next words.

"Care to repeat that to my face, shitty brat," a familiar voice growls behind him.

Even without looking back, Izuku knows just by the cadence of his voice. The way it dips low and get throaty when he’s annoyed; the curt infliction of his vowels as he drags his consonant around. Izuku knows him by heartbeat. Intimately and surely as the ground under his feet.

His lips brush against a callus palm as he covers the hand over his mouth with his own. Fingers sweeping against the coarse skin that had seen it fair share of battles; losses and victories were tied up in these extraordinary hands. It's the source of his power and strength. Even knowing the danger that can be these familiar hands can impose, Izuku never feels safer than when he is within its cradle. Izuku drags the hand down from his mouth, but doesn't let it go from his grip. Instead, he wraps his fingers around it and holds tight.

It squeezes back.

Izuku’s entire body lets out a small tremor before he can get his voice to work. “K-Katsuki-san,” he murmurs. “What are you doing here?"

The chair besides him scrapes across the floor and Katsuki drops down in the empty seat. "I'm picking you up for lunch," he grunts out.

Eri, who had grown up under strict tutelage of her yakuza grandfather, is no wilting flower. "Hey, wrinkle old man balls," she states flatly, narrowing her eyes at him in contempt. "Aren't you supposed to patrolling and not hang around a college campus, harassing its students?"

Katsuki grits his teeth. "I'm visiting my boyfriend, brat," he retorts sharply. "And I just got out of a twelve hours shift saving annoying people like your ungrateful and mouthy's ass who is reminding me clearly I took up the fucking wrong profession because you're all shit." Izuku casts a furtive glance at Katsuki and sees that he is out of his uniform. Dressed in a casual black dresshirt that is, uh, Izuku breath hitches as he notices the upper two most buttons are left open to reveal tantalizing defined collarbones underneath. He desperately wants to run a careful hand over them, to feel Katsuki's skin pressed against his palm and to know the weight of touching the current number one hero in Japan, who had remained untouchable to the mass, but he’s here right now beside Izuku, holding his hands like it’s not blowing his mind.

Izuku wants to climb inside of him, burrow deep, and not let go. His eyes widen suddenly and he muffles a squeak, hoping nobody notice his strange behavior as he flexes the free hand on his lap while the other hand twitches under Katsuki's grip under the table. His cheeks redden at such strange and lewd thoughts that plague him, but the two in front of him hadn't notice at all.

They're still locked in a heated contention and looks about to leap out of their respective seat and duke out right here, right now. The crowd be damn.

Unimpressed, Eri huffs and crosses her arm imperiously. "I don't trust you or your intention with Izuku-sempai.”  

Katsuki leans back into his seat and raises a brow as casual as you please. "Not that I give a rat's ass about your opinion, but thanks for the info." He turns to Izuku. "What you feel like eating?"

Eri, for the first time in a while is completely disarmed by Katsuki’s provocation, sputters, "Hey, you can't just take him away like that! I was here first and we're not done talking!"

"Yea?" Katsuki muses, brushing his thumb against Izuku's knuckles in deliberate circles that sends spark up Izuku's spine. "So you don't want grab lunch with me, Deku?"

Izuku quickly looks away, chest heaving and breath short as though his lungs don’t quite work. "I—" he flushes, "y-yes, I would very much like to eat lunch with you," he finally squeaks out. He can already feel Eri's outrage, realizing at that moment she got horribly outplayed by Katsuki. Eri makes a wounded noise. “Izuku-sempai! How could you?! You said we were going to hang out today,” she cries out. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knows her like the back of his own hand, he would be scrambling over to her side to grovel for being a horrible friend right then. Izuku winces. "What if I'll buy you dinner and help you with that term paper in our Hero Theory class to make up for it?" he offers.

Her eyes snap to him. "Two dinners, a term paper, and also you're not allow to cancel our plan for next Friday," she counters. "And no stupid boyfriend third wheeling us."

Izuku quickly nods his head. If she had wanted his spleen too he would have readily agree to it, because Eri is unrightfully too good for him. All his friends are really. He's lucky he got them to keep him from falling on his face everytime he does something remotely stupid. Always too caught up with chasing after a good story that he ignored all the danger around him, he'd put himself in harm ways enough times to give Eri greying hair and to be rescued by a grumpy hero who found his fumbling criminal investigation annoying if not a little endearing.

Izuku never could figure out how he of all people managed to snare the Ground Zero, when the first time they'd met Izuku was hanging off a ledge sixty feet off the ground and Katsuki was about to drop him flat onto the concrete slab because he thought Izuku was a part of the League of Villains and the reason why sixteen young girls were missing.

It was beyond a memorable first meeting for them both, and fortunately it wasn't to be their last either.

Katsuki snorts, scooting his chair back. "You're schoolmates," he grumbles, and there's a note of derision in his voice. "You see him even when you don't want to see him." With their joint hands, he tugs Izuku upward and out of his seat with him.

"At least Izuku doesn't have to schedule an appointment with the front office just to see me," she rebukes, eyes flashing. "I mean, wow, must be so hard for you to make time for your own boyfriend."

Katsuki freezes, his hand tightening around Izuku's own. He can feel heat emanating from Katsuki's palm, pressing up against his bare skin danger close but Izuku doesn't break their hold.

"Eri!" Izuku scolds, frowning and Eri has grace to look chastised for a second.

He turns back to Katsuki and gives a comforting squeeze. "I understand," he is quick to assure him. "Your work is much more important." Izuku gets it, because Katsuki is out there putting bad guys in jail and saving people's lives. It's crucial work that keeps this city on track even if these days he can only seem to catch glimpses of Katsuki in the news because he’d slow down on hounding the streets for new lead of criminal activities and updating his crime blog.

Izuku may pretend like he's doing some kind good work out there but he doesn't forget. His investigations can only get him so far when he has no quirk or strength to back it up. The one actually doing the heavy lifting out there are heroes like Katsuki, who’d personally fight all of Izuku's demons and keep Izuku alive and breathing so he can hunt the next big bad menacing the city.

Izuku is no hero. He isn't out there saving people from rampaging villains or protect the country from being run amok by the League. His world is much smaller. He just wants keep Eri from people trying to abuse her quirk or save a kid from being another Kouta out there.

"It's not," Katsuki asserts, pulling Izuku in till he's nearly stumbling into his side. He scowls down at Izuku. "Stop fucking putting yourself down, shitty nerd."

"You're giving him mixed signals here," Eri says dryly. "You can't say something nice and then call him names. You're not very good for Izuku's self esteem, Zero-san."

Even the way she'd tacked on that honorific at the end, it was layered with doubt. Eri is always polite and respectful up until the point she isn't and even then she keeps her guard up. Maybe it’s because of her yakuza backgound and how people had used her for her quirk in the past, but she didn't have a lot of friends to begin with and those whom she do consider friends, she's extremely protective of. Izuku is lucky she's even consider he’s worthy enough remain by her side.

  Katsuki's eyes flash to her in a hard glare as Eri meets it dead on unrepentantly. "Shut the fuck up," he hisses, carding his free hand through his hair in frustration. Eri's words seem to have hit its mark.

"Eri," Izuku pleads, turning to her with desperation, "don't."

Eri sighs and waves them off. "Fine, fine, I won't harassed you anymore," she says with an easy shrug. "You may take Izuku-sempai and go, but do bring him back in one piece or I'll have to call upon my grandfather." It's not an idle provocation. They all know who her grandfather is. Katsuki, who always buttheads with Eri, may find her grating at times but never scary. Not of her quirk or her grandfather. Not then, and certainly not now either. It's an admirable quality of Katsuki that Eri had admitted to liking one night in the hush of his dorm room. He bares his teeth at her, sharp edges and full of bites. "Oh, don't bother, I'll be happy to meet your dear old man later when he's behind bars with the rest of his yakuza cohorts," he says, cut for cut. Vicious barb for vicious barb. He's merciless.

Eri stands up abruptly. "Hey, you—!" But the rest of her sentence is cut off when Katsuki drags Izuku away.

"Don't worry, I'm only half fucking with you, brat," he throws over his shoulder, voice alight in laughter as Eri makes a muffled scream of frustration.

"That's mean," Izuku murmurs, bumping Katsuki's shoulder meaningfully.

"And she isn't?" he counters, raising his brow at Izuku. "I'm not going to be nice to her just because you adopted her like a damn stray. If she wants to pick a fight with me that badly, I'm going to give it my all."

"She's just protective, you know," Izuku says, strolling hand in hand with Katsuki through the quad area of the campus. Trying not to pay attention to several people stopping midtrack and nearly breaking their neck as they realize who's walking beside him. Katsuki makes a grunt of acknowledgment. "Good. She should be if she got a trouble magnet like you as friend."

Izuku's feet skid to a halt, pulling Katsuki to a stop with him. Katsuki turns to him with a befuddled expression. "You like her!" he accuses, absolutely delighted.

Katsuki's face flash in horror. "No!" he yells, flustered. "Fuck no! I don't like that little witch."

"It's okay, I'll keep your secret," Izuku teases.

Katskuki scowls as he leans closer in. "Shut your dirty mouth or I'll do it," he says, and kisses Izuku to that effect before he can say anything about it.

Izuku’s knees doesn’t buckle under the careful attention Katsuki’s mouth gave him; his tongue teases and prods at Izuku until Izuku is completely compliant in his hands. How unfair, he think, face flushed and lips throbbing from the bruises of Katsuki’s kiss as Katsuki draws back with a smirk on his face.

Izuku clears his throat and looks away for a second as he regains his bearings. “D-do you need me for something?” he asks. Surely, Katsuki isn’t here on his campus just to take him out to eat right? “Is there a case you want me to look into?”

Katsuki frowns, brows pinching as annoyance flickers pass his face. “No. I want to grab lunch with you because I fucking miss you,” he grumbles a surly as always, but his words punch leaves him breathless.

“Oh,” he says, eyes rounded with surprise.

He thinks of all the time Katsuki seems larger than life, this great and famed hero who save the world again and again, this unattainable man is more like a figment of Izuku’s dreams than anything, so how could he ever be with someone so boring and ordinary like Izuku? But, when Katsuki say something like this and Izuku hopes, oh, how hope burns with him, because slowly but surely, Katsuki would come to love him just as much as Izuku does one day. One day that will come.

[three-drink-amy]

All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights

masterlist - AO3

With the holidays, it’s a miracle I know it’s Monday and that I should be posting. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading! 

Chapter Thirteen: These Things Are Sent to Try Us

I made the mistake of waiting until after the holidays to reach out to Lamb. I didn’t even have the chance to mention getting together before he dropped his own news on me. 

“Claire, I have the greatest news! I’ve been asked to teach a class at a prestigious arts academy! Isn’t that wonderful?” 

I congratulated him, knowing how desperately he’d been trying to find purpose in his life again. Perhaps teaching could be that for him. “That’s fantastic! Where is it? The one here in New York?” 

“Actually, no. It’s in London. The one I attended, as a matter of fact.” 

I paused for a long moment, trying to process it. Lamb had lived in New York for as long as I had been alive. Longer, even. “Wow. Alright. When do you go? How long will you be gone?” 

“I know it’s last minute, but I’ll be leaving in two days and will be there for eight weeks,” he told me. I bit my lip, trying to decide if I could wait to introduce him to Jamie until after he got back. Without a doubt in my mind, I knew he wouldn’t be open to talking about anything but this new opportunity. 

“Well that sounds wonderful,” I said, feeling a bit defeated. There was another part of me though — a dark, sick part of me — that was a bit relieved that I could put off Lamb’s inevitable judgment for a while longer. I really did want Jamie and Lamb to meet. Truly. But I knew, no matter how hard I tried, it likely wouldn’t go well. 

Jamie, thankfully, understood and we went back to our pleasant routine we’d been in before the holidays. I worked three days a week. Jamie acted every night. And together, we fell more in love. 

* * *

Jamie was drinking a cup of coffee on the couch as Claire looked through the fridge, making a list on her phone. They were running very low on groceries and didn’t need to be ordering take-out as often as they did. It was convenient, especially for keeping their relationship a secret. 

She grabbed her purse and walked over toward the couch where he sat. “Think about what you want for lunch,” she suggested before bending down for a kiss. 

“Would it not be better to eat from the groceries that ye’re already getting?” 

Claire rolled her eyes at him in the way he found both endearing and exasperating. “We’re celebrating. Don’t you remember?” 

He nodded, a small smile on his face. “Aye, I recall.” 

“Six months since your first show!” she cheered for him. 

Jamie grabbed her hand, pulling her down again. “I believe that also makes six months since something else happened…” Meeting her for a kiss, he pretended to play dumb. “But what was it?” 

Claire played along. “Yeah, something else. Hmmm. Wonder what it could be.” 

He laughed before kissing her hard. “I’ll think on it.” 

She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I will too.” As she opened the door, she turned back to him. “Text me if I forgot anything.” 

Jamie nodded in reply, waving her off. He watched as she flashed him one last smile before walking out the door. 

It was all so terribly domestic, and sometimes, Jamie couldn’t really believe it was his life. He was essentially living with the woman of his dreams. How was he that lucky? 

He loved Claire with all of him, every fiber of his being. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with her forever. He’d pretty much been there from the moment they both confessed their feelings. Since then, his feelings had only grown deeper. 

The days where she didn’t work were his favorite. He’d never tell her that. After all, he still felt a bit guilty that she’d altered her work life to accommodate him. But those days were bliss. They’d wake up whenever they woke up instead of having a blaring alarm. Their mornings would be spent however they decided to spend it, whether it was a run (either separately or one of them in a hat that seemed to hide their face), or laying around, or not getting out of bed until they were both fully sated with the other. Those days were his favorite by far. When Claire was just Claire and he was just Jamie. 

He’d mostly moved into Claire’s home in the last couple of months. It started with some clothes and some shoes. That continued to some of his movies that he thought it was a crime she’d never seen. He brought over sheets and towels because he felt like he needed to share and not just go through hers. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d even been back to his own apartment and he didn’t care in the slightest. Jamie was happy and comfortable at Claire’s. And if she was content with it, that’s all that mattered. 

Jamie finished his coffee not long after Claire left for the store and decided to use the time while she was gone to clean up the kitchen. After scrubbing down the counters and sink —as Claire liked to do so regularly that it rubbed off on him — he sat back down on the couch and flipped on the tv. He was still scrolling for something to watch on Netflix when there was a knock at the door. 

Jumping up, Jamie opened the door, imagining Claire didn’t have a hand to get her keys out. But as the door swung open, he was stunned at the person on the other side. The legendary Lambert Beauchamp stood before him, looking thoroughly confused. 

Glancing down at his attire, Jamie regretted meeting the man in a t-shirt and sweats. He cleared his throat nervously. Lamb beat him to the punch to speak first. 

“I was looking for Claire.” 

“Ah, of course. She’s, uh, not here,” Jamie said, feeling flustered. He stuck out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet ye though, I’m —”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Lamb interrupted him. “But perhaps you can illuminate me on why you’re here, so clearly in a comfortable state, at my niece’s — and more than that, your director’s — home.” 

It felt like a rock was stuck in Jamie’s throat. He knew Claire was nervous for the two of them to meet. This certainly wasn’t going to help. Jamie had no words to explain. It was clear what Lamb assumed. And it was more or less correct. Jamie stood there silently, trying desperately to find words. Lamb strode past him into the apartment, planting himself on the couch with a suspicious look. Jamie slowly closed the door behind him, wishing more than anything that it had been his turn to go get groceries. 

* * *

I reached the door —finally— and struggled to get my key in the door. Huffing out a breath, I threw open the door, not even looking around the apartment. I spotted Jamie’s red head of hair out of the corner of my eye. “I couldn’t find that coffee you asked for, so I grabbed that other brand we liked.” Slamming the reusable grocery bags down on the counter, I heard Jamie clear his throat. 

“Claire,” he said almost nervously. 

I looked up and felt my stomach drop. Jamie wasn’t alone in the apartment. “Lamb,” I said in a small voice. My eyes went wide as I glanced back at Jamie. How long ago had Lamb arrived? How long had the two of them been alone together? How had Lamb reacted to Jamie being alone in my home? Likely, not well. “When did you get back from England?” 

Lamb stayed where he was by the couch but his eyes were trained on me. “Last night. I thought I’d come by today and surprise you.” I glanced over at Jamie with an apologetic look. “But instead, it was I who was surprised.” 

I rubbed a hand across my face. “I can see that.” 

“You never mentioned you were seeing anyone,” Lamb mentioned. “If that is what this ” — he gestured between me and Jamie — “ in fact is.” 

My eyes squeezed shut, hating that this was how the two most important men in my life were meeting. “Yes, Jamie and I are dating,” I confirmed for him. “I waited to tell you until we were together for a bit. And then when I was going to tell you, you informed me with only two days notice that you were leaving the country for at least two months. So as you can imagine, I decided to wait.” 

Lamb shook his head. “You’re better than this, Claire.”

I gaped at him. “Excuse me?” 

“An actor? Claire, you know he’s only with you to advance his career. And the evidence of that is pretty damning considering he’s the lead of your last show and was formerly a no name.” 

Jamie’s eyes were closed as he stood with his back to the door. I was resisting the urge to throw the nearest object at Lamb. He had no right to be saying such things. 

“You don’t know a damn thing about Jamie or my relationship with him!” I yelled. “For your information — not that you actually asked — we weren’t together until after the show opened. He gained his role on his own. Though, thank you so much for accusing both of us of impropriety. Forget the fact that you don’t even know him, but is that really what you think I’d do?” 

Lamb still looked unimpressed. “I’ve been around a lot longer than you. I’ve seen a lot of good directors start relationships like this for the same reasons but it turned out it wasn’t quite what they thought it was. I’ve seen plenty of people get burned. I know you think you know what this is, but you’re being naive, Claire. Just open your eyes and see that he’s using you.” 

I’d hit my limit. I threw my arm out, pointing to my office. “Office. Now.” I abandoned the groceries and stalked to my office, feeling like steam must surely be coming from my ears. Lamb stepped inside and I slammed the door shut behind me. 

“I need you to listen and actually hear what I’m saying. I love this man. I am in love with him. I wanted you to meet under better circumstances, but this is where we are. I get that you're trying to protect me, and I appreciate that, but I’m not going to fucking take the way you’re treating both of us. We’re adults, for Christ’s sake. He’s not using me. We knew what we were to each other at the beginning of our relationship.” 

Lamb opened his mouth to talk but I talked over him. 

“And frankly, I wouldn’t care if he used my career and reputation to further his own career because he deserves a good career. But I know for a fact that he’s not doing that. And you know why? Because I’ve actually spent time with him and you just made assumptions. He’s a good man, better than anyone I’ve met on Broadway. And I love him. I want him in my life.” I paused, letting all that information sink in with Lamb. 

“So, here are your options: you can either walk back out there and get to know the man who is very important to me, or you can find your way out. I need him in my life. I don’t need you telling me I’m a naive child. These are your options. I’ll give you some time to think them through.” 

Without letting him speak, I strode from my office and back to the kitchen. Jamie was putting away the groceries I’d just brought home. As he closed the fridge, he turned to me, shooting me a sad look. I walked straight into his arms and held him tightly. His head leaned against mine as his hands rubbed at my back. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

“Why should you be sorry? I’m sorry he was so awful.” 

“I should have looked first,” Jamie argued. “I could have spared us all this if I’d looked before just opening the door. I could have pretended no one was here.” 

I chuckled against his chest. “No, he’d probably have let himself in. That would have been even worse.” 

“I ken this wasna how ye wanted us to meet. And I’m sorry for that.” 

I pulled back and looked up at him, running a hand along his cheek. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever he thinks doesn’t matter. You know that, right?” His brow furrowed. “Of course I wanted you both to get along, but if he says he doesn’t approve, it doesn’t change anything for me. You’re too important to me.” 

A small smile crossed his face before he leaned down to place a kiss at my hairline. My eyes fluttered closed and I let him hold me again. 

I heard the door to my office open again, the sound of footsteps carrying back to the kitchen. Jamie and I both looked over just in time to watch Lamb walk right out the door of my apartment. 

My mouth fell open as tears sprang to my eyes. A pain started in my chest at the thought that he’d rather just leave. Jamie held me tighter, whispering to me in Gaelic. 

A knock at the door shook both of us. Shooting one look at Jamie, I pulled back from his embrace and walked over to the door. Lamb stood on the other side, a contrite look on his face. 

“I’d like a fresh start if you think that’s alright,” he told me. 

I shook my head, a dry laugh bubbling out of me. “You always had to be so bloody dramatic.” 

“Curse of the trade,” he said with a shrug. “I heard what you said. And I’d like to start over.” He cleared his throat, standing up a bit taller. “Claire, I’m back from England. I’d love to take this time to catch up on your life.” 

I smiled despite the lingering anger I felt. Standing out of the way, I gestured for him to enter. “Lamb, there’s someone I want you to meet,” I said, playing along. “This is Jamie, my boyfriend.” 

Jamie smiled broadly — as he did every time I broke out the title. He reached his hand out to Lamb and met him for a shake. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jamie,” Lamb said in a friendly tone. Much friendlier than before. 

Jamie nodded to him. “The pleasure is mine.” 

I walked over and stood next to Jamie, my arm automatically wrapping around his waist. 

“Claire, you’re right, I don’t know much, if anything, about your relationship. How long have you been together?” 

I looked up at Jamie, a fond smile crossing my face. “Today is six months, actually.” 

Lamb’s eyes went wide. “Six months? And you didn’t tell me?” 

I felt a stab of guilt. “Well honestly, I wasn’t sure how you were going to react. I rather thought it would be like this,” I said, motioning to where he’d stood before. “You can imagine why I’d want to put that off.” 

Lamb shook his head, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, my dear. I played right into what you thought of me. I just never wanted anything bad to happen to you. I should have listened to you before I just jumped to my own conclusions. Jamie, if you would allow me, I’d love to go to lunch with both of you and get to know you better.” 

We flashed an unsure look at each other. “Well, uh, I appreciate the offer,” Jamie replied, “but you two are more than welcome to go.” 

“We don’t really go out in public together,” I explained. “Our relationship is a secret, save for Jamie’s family. We didn’t want people to accuse Jamie of...well, what you accused Jamie of.” 

I could see that Lamb was feeling guilty. I wasn’t too sure I cared all that much though. 

“We were actually going to order in it you’d like to join us,” Jamie offered. He glanced at me. “I thought about Frescos.”

“Oh I love Frescos!” Lamb cried, a smile on his face. 

Jamie grinned at the reaction. I shrugged with a smile as well. “I suppose we have a winner then.” 

* * *

We talked with Lamb for hours. He talked about teaching in England. Jamie talked about the show. I talked around my lightened workload. And together, we talked about our relationship. Once we got past the initial animosity, it was nice having the two most important people in my life in the same room. 

Eventually, Jamie walked toward our bedroom, changing so he could head to the theater. Lamb didn’t seem to feel the need to leave. I wouldn’t mind the chance to talk to him privately, so I didn’t encourage him to. 

As Jamie was putting on his jacket, Lamb walked over to him, reaching out his hand. “It was lovely meeting you, Jamie. I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” 

Jamie nodded, a pleased look on his face. “I would like that.” 

Lamb clapped him on the arm. “Break a leg tonight.” 

“Thanks.” 

Lamb and I essentially traded positions as I walked over to Jamie. He looked nervously past me, but I didn’t care. Leaning up to him, I kissed him softly. “I’ll see you later.” 

He nodded. “Aye.” 

I kissed him again, whispering to him. “I love you.” 

His lips pressed back to mine. “I love ye too.” 

With one more goodbye to the room, Jamie walked out the door. I waited for a short moment before I walked back over to Lamb. He watched me as I sat down and took a drink of my wine. 

“You were right,” he admitted, breaking the silence. “He seems like a good man.” I nodded, not really knowing how to reply. “And I can see how much he cares for you.” 

“I know he does,” I replied. “And I do too.” 

It was Lamb’s turn to nod. “I can see that. You know what else I see?” I shrugged. “I can see how happy you are. And that makes me happy as well. Even more than when you got your first show, you’re happy.” 

“I am. Truly.” 

“I’m glad.” Lamb took a drink of his wine. “I was never able to do that. To balance a relationship and work. So I just blindly pursued my work. I loved it enough. But that was my choice. And sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d tried a bit harder.” 

I took a long sip of my wine. “I wasn’t going to tell you this earlier — you know, when you thought Jamie was using me and all — but I am taking a bit of a break. Well, really, I’ve just shortened my weeks. I wanted more time to devote to building a relationship. I still work, but I’m also still able to make things work with Jamie. He was unsure about me making this choice, but it was my decision that I made on my own.” 

Lamb watched me for a moment. “It’s your career. If you needed that time, it’s yours to take. You’ve worked hard enough to build up a solid reputation. I’m sure when you have more time to give back to your career, it’ll still be there for you.” 

I nodded in agreement. “That was more or less what I thought as well.” 

* * *

Lamb and I parted on much better terms than when we met that afternoon. Later, when Jamie came home, he found me on the couch trying and failing to read my book. He grinned as he threw himself dramatically on the couch next to me. Grabbing my ankles, he pulled me toward him. I leaned into him easily. “Hi.” 

“Hello,” he replied, pulling me closer to him for a kiss. “How’s yer book?” 

“Haven’t really been able to focus on it, honestly.” 

“Thinking about today?” I nodded. “By the end, I thought it went alright.” 

I nodded again, moving so I could curl into his side. “It did. He really liked you. Once he saw you, Jamie, and not you, Actor.” 

“Well once I met him, Uncle Lamb, and not him, Director Lamb, I rather liked him as well.” 

My head leaned on his shoulder. “I’m glad. I’m sorry for all the shit at the beginning.” 

Jamie chuckled. “Ye dinna need to be. I’m just sorry we didna really get to celebrate our six months.” 

I picked my head up and looked at him. “Well I was thinking about that too. I thought of a way to celebrate.” 

Jamie’s eyebrows raised, a devious glint in his eye. “Oh?” He leaned closer to me.

I laughed, pushing his face away. “That too. But later.” 

He grabbed my hands, holding them in his. “Okay. Then what was yer thought?” 

Taking a deep breath, I watched him for a moment. “What if…” I took another breath. “What if you moved in with me?” 

Jamie’s eyes widened, seemingly trying to tell if I was serious. “Ye mean it?” 

I nodded insistently. “I do. On a logical level, it makes sense for us to have one apartment instead of two. But also, I just want you here, always. I love coming home from work and coming home to you. Even when we see each other just in passing, I know that I’ll see you as I arrive and you leave. Or knowing that if I go to bed before you get back, I’m still going to wake up next to you.” 

A broad smile spread across Jamie’s face as his hands tightened around mine. “It is rather nice.” 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So…?” 

He pulled my hands back suddenly, bringing me against him. “Obviously, yes. I canna even remember the last night I stayed at my apartment because I havena wanted to. Because I want to be here. With you.” 

We shared a smile before his hand resting against my neck brought me down for a kiss. My hands linked behind his head as I kissed him long and deep. Neither of us really moved things forward. It was slow and sweet as we melted into each other in a haze of happiness. Six months had felt like nothing and everything at the same time.

Next chapter

[arieteis]

some random headcanons //

( just some random hcs i thought of !! this can b revised at any point it’s mainly just here for me to jot some ideas down bc i can’t write rn )

hwiyoung:

after asking yeonmi out he’s a little bit terrified he’s going to mess things up so he’s been constantly walking on eggshells when it comes to anything ~romantic~. he’s hesitant to even hold hands with her yet

that being said, personality wise he hasn’t changed at all, though he no longer views her as a pest and actually really adores her even if he can’t quite put that into words. he’s incredibly thankful for not only her friendship but the fact she put up with him being a petty thief as well as dragging her to mcdonalds at least once a week

he’s still a petty thief though, don’t get me wrong. he has barely any money to his name and he’s too prideful to ask for help and would rather find ways to make things work on his own

he’s definitely stopped lying as much, mainly because now that he’s close with yeonmi he feels like he doesn’t have as much to hide, but he’ll be tight lipped around pretty much anyone else still especially when it comes to his past

he always checks his phone first thing when he wakes up and he’s hopeful he has at least one text waiting for him. even if he doesn’t, he’ll text yeonmi first thing no matter what. usually something annoying followed by ‘good morning!! ☆(◒‿◒)☆’ or something similar

he doesn’t have many friends but he has plenty of acquaintances, most are from when he was a bit younger so they’re not incredibly close especially since most of them followed a much different path than he did

doesn’t even think of going to school at all but if pressed or given the opportunity he would because he knows it’d be helpful in the long run. if given the chance, he’d study psychology, but considering he can’t afford it, it’s the last thing on his mind

filters through the same several outfits all the time. his closet is relatively empty and he doesn’t have too much interest in fashion to begin with. if he does, he just asks yeonmi’s opinion and goes with whatever she suggests

his hair is currently long mainly because he’s too lazy to keep up with constant trims. he thinks about going back to platinum often because he thinks it looks cool but doesn’t want to deal with the upkeep either. it’s slightly curly naturally and currently a nice brown

has terrible handwriting. he likes to write yeonmi stupid notes from time with little doodles just because

still keeps a small collection of various items in his room but the size of it has gone down considerably in the past two years. his apartment is also much cleaner now and he has more decorations overall. now it looks like a home rather than a shell he was just living in

despite being nicer overall than he used to be, he can still come off rather rude to strangers because he doesn’t exactly hold back and can be somewhat cold

baekhyun:

absolutely enamored with yerin, the coffee shop girl. finally got the guts to talk to through after constant pep talks from his friends. luckily, for him, she thought the way he tripped over all his words and turned as red as a tomato was endearing

speaking of coffee, he hates it. but he drinks it anyway because he needs the caffeine. he will only order super sugary drinks otherwise he’ll probably spat it out and whine

since time has passed, he’s upgraded from only doing housework to actually taking on tasks some may consider superhero worthy, except they’re still not to the level he’d like to be. that being said, his imagination still plays up absolutely everything he does so helping an old lady cross the road makes him feel super accomplished

back to yerin: she’s actually on the complete opposite end of the scale, her family is a line of supervillains, but she hasn’t quite revealed herself (nor does she want to for obvious reasons) but inevitably this will come to a head as baekhyun continues to grow as a hero and she, too, grows as a villain

still an absolute MESS when it comes to fashion and hair. he can’t put together an outfit to save his life and his hair can maybe be considered a nicely styled bedhead (think: get you alone mv). bright, obnoxious colors and clashing patterns are his favorite

as a side hobby baekhyun got into fps shooters. he’s terrible at them. somehow he’s garnered a small following from streaming nonetheless (really it’s because despite being an idiot he’s quite funny) he eventually wants to move on to other games too

still hates working out. sieun if you’re out there... i’m so sorry

still has a small desire to go back to school, but he’s too caught up in all his other hobbies and work that he hasn’t had the time to look into it. in reality, he’s just really distracted, but he does spend most of his time doing his ‘superhero duties’ so he blames it on that if his friends call him out on the fact he still hasn’t called 

incredibly clumsy unless he’s in the zone. constantly covered in bruises and scratches and broke his arm a year ago trying to do a backflip to show off to his friends. he did not land well, nor did he complete the backflip

anzu:

recently picked up ballet classes again to work on her balance and form. she finds it’s one of the few places she can fully relax and zone out for an hour or two besides when she practices gymnastic routines

a small part of her wishes she could still compete in gymnastics, but she knows getting back into it would be incredibly difficult. it’s been something she’s been playing with in her mind a lot lately, especially due to the fact she has the time, but her own nervousness holds her back

as of lately, her nightmares have grown much worse and she hasn’t been able to sleep. she’s irritable most days as well as distracted and not fully there

she’s attempting to open up more about her own emotions as she’s beginning to realize keeping everything bottled up is only making things worse. that being said, there’s few people she trusts with this information as she doesn’t want to bother anybody as well as the fact that she’s always anxious talking about her feelings will change people’s perspectives about her to be more negative

generally has pretty low self esteem. does not believe it when people compliment her, but usually she’ll accept it to be polite

surprisingly argumentative with certain people and sometimes it shocks even herself

still terrible at darts and not very into movies as she can’t sit down and focus through the whole thing to save her life

video games are still a major stress reliever for her, though lately she finds it difficult to get into them

despite the fact she’s relatively close with her aunt and uncle, lately she hasn’t spoken to them much either. she’s pulled away from most things due to her terrible mood and only really goes out for work or if a friend pries her from her apartment. secretly, she’s grateful, but she’ll whine until she’s actually out at which point she’ll actually enjoy herself

music wise she’s been listening to a lot of classical. it calms her. she doesn’t know the names of any of the songs she likes, though, and would be hard pressed to name anybody besides the most well known composers

she’s been playing around with the idea of going to school finally and her aunt and uncle would support her financially (through her parents, of course) but as she has no idea what she’d like to study she still holds off on this

wants to travel more of the world but she never has a lot of money because she makes so many impulsive purchases and she’d never ask her aunt and uncle for help unless it were an emergency situation

most of her bad mood comes from conflicting memories that are starting to sprout up, but she doesn’t quite understand what’s going on yet. her migraines (and headaches in general) have gotten much worse and more frequent, as well

her aunt/uncle have gently pressed for her to go back to therapy but she refuses assuring them nothing is wrong. she has a weird idea of it thanks to her prior visits and is just generally distrustful of the whole idea now unfortunately 

she’s so down in the dumps rn i want to fight her. that’s a hc too. thank u

[crqstalite]

stargazer.

just a little something from the wip folder. i started writing it months ago and i honestly have no idea where it was supposed to be going. you might be able to tell where earlier!andre stops and now!andre begins.

otherwise, a drabble about kodelyn and her mother, hannah shepard. no warnings.

-

She used to love the stars.

She used to be a child who knew nothing more than the skies of Rio, curious and wide eyed when they'd say goodbye to her new stepfather and siblings. Then, out into the warm and humid air with her mother, who'd braid her hair back in cornrows and pick her up to a piggyback style. So far outside the city, she was amazed by the lack of noise, lack of light. The way the sky would be speckled with white and gold, the way they'd twinkle when she lifted her head just right.

They'd never had the time before her sister was born. It'd always just been them, her and her mother bouncing between stations. Hannah Shepard and her daughter, Kodelyn, with the endearing habit of typing her own reports with nonsensical subjects that the crew would take in stride. One had started giving her stickers for each one, much to her happiness.

She saw the stars outside her window on Arcturus, wondering what lay beyond the twinkling lights in the distance. She'd used to make up stories that there were aliens, like any good child would in the years preceding the First Contact War. It'd fascinated her, so far away, yet they sped past them with the usage of the mass relay network. Anywhere she could, she stuck glow in the dark stickers. Whether that be in the crew cabin or elsewhere, she loved the way they looked. The nebula of purples and blues and black mixing into a vision of what she lived to see. Her curiosity about the galaxy before her made many believe she was simply a carbon copy of her mother, someone who asked just about all the right questions and maybe a few that weren't relevant. They saw Hannah in her, a few officers referring to her as simply 'Little Shepard'. A little clone that was constantly on her heels, but it was more endearing than annoying. Most of the time. As long as she didn't get underfoot too often. And that was fine, she liked it. Loved it even. Would've been happy if it stayed that way.

Then all of sudden (well, to her it was all of a sudden), she wasn't living on stations anymore. It seemed sometime between all the childish fantasies of being a spacefaring heroine, domesticity had settled in and didn't seem like it was leaving. Someone who took care of her when her mother was on tour, a 'proper' father. Then, a sister that hung onto every word that came out of her mouth. Then a brother who thought she was the best thing since the Mars relay had been found. It wasn't just her and her mother anymore, a family had grown around them.

At first, she was confused. Why she didn't accompany her mother on cruises anymore, why she was rarely home. Nearly upset even, until she came back through the door with a smile on her face and tired crinkles around her eyes after months on missions. A warning not to dirty her dress blues when she'd been away at the garrison, but never minding to bend down and hug her daughter. The stars became her connection back to her, wondering which one had her mother's ship behind it. As much as the megaopolis' bright lights drowned out those in the sky, she still stayed up to watch the city sleep and the stars find their way to her window. Watching as the ships came in at the dock, becoming adept at identifying each model, growing excited when she recognized the one she'd been looking for. Her mother always said she didn't have favorite children, but considering the shiny models of Alliance ships brought back for her, only her, she had reason to believe otherwise.

Well, most of the time. She'd never tell her baby siblings, but she was pretty sure she was the favorite.

"Do you have to go back?" Kodelyn asks, voice small as she rests her head on her mother's shoulder. The last day of her shore leave, and she wasn't excited to let her just go again, "Let them have Mr. 'Quin, then you can stay home with me all day."

Her mother chuckles, adjusting her hold on her small legs, "If that were how the military worked, I'm sure he'd be gone already, Dee. But you know I have work to do, and I'll be right back here for your birthday."

"But that's forever away!" Kodelyn exclaims, incredulous at the notion. April was a long time from then, nearly a whole year from that July. She believed she was completely justified in her reaction to the absurd amount of time her mother would be gone. In the grand scheme of things, it was decidedly absolutely unacceptable, "You're gonna miss Mason's birthday, and Mr. 'Quin's."

"I wish I could be here for them all, you know that, bug. Shore leave doesn't always come easy to us marines," She responds, stepping out of the way of a bush, the crinkling of leaves underneath her boots, "Tell you what, how about we get a dog for him and Mason? They like dogs, don't they?"

"There aren't pets in space, mom. Everyone knows that," Kodelyn giggles, her mother shaking her head and surely smiling herself, "Are we there yet?"

A pause before they step out from the tree line, Kodelyn craning her neck to stare up at the sky. Her mother gently puts her down, sliding to the ground to sit. Her daughter unceremoniously does the same, eyes wide. It was true, then, you could see so much more from the forest than you could from her house. Gently, she lays down on her mother's legs, Hannah carefully drawing her fingers through her scalp. Names of constellations come to her in waves, pointing out each one to the woman who smiles.

"There's an entire galaxy out there for you to explore," Hannah smiles down at her, hands resting on the ground before she looks back up to the sky, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kodelyn responds, playfully exasperated. She already knew that, and she knew that she wanted to be a ship captain just like her mother when she grew older. Of course she was going to explore. She'd get back up into space someday, even if she was only twelve right now, "It's pretty from here, right? So you can just stay here, with me."

Hannah sighs, though still good natured when she gently pulls Kodelyn into a soft embrace, "I'd love it if I could. Though I have a commitment to the Alliance, and I can't just walk away, little one."

"Then take me with you...." She whines, while Hannah chuckles.

"What do you have against being on Earth? I thought you'd like it, after all the time we spent on the Citadel, and the stations, and the ships," Hannah asks, leaning her head gently on her daughter's, "So much room to run around and play with kids your own age. You don't have to keep to the mess or medbay anymore, isn't that what you wanted?"

"Earth is...nice, I suppose. Too many bugs though," Kodelyn sticks out a tongue, reminded of her first experience with a spider only a few years ago. She shivers at the thought, but turns her big brown eyes back up at her mother, "I wanted to stay with you. And then you keep leaving."

"Oh." Hannah pauses, then squeezing her just a little tighter, "Kiddo, I'll always come back."

"And what if you don't?

"I will, and that's that," Hannah answers firmly, "And if you have your way, you'll be with the Alliance in a few years yourself. Just be patient, and be happy you still have solid ground under your feet for now, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Kodelyn figures this is as much insurance as she's going to get on the matter, and relaxes her head back onto her mother's shoulder, "Space is still better."

"As if there was a question," Hannah brushes her hair out of her face, "Love what you have right now, kiddo. Please. You’ll never know if you’ll get this back.”

“You just said you’ll always come back, what do you mean?” 

“Don’t take things for granted -- you could lose it in an instant.”

And that's how it would've gone. She probably would’ve lived out the rest of her days on Earth, had her younger sister not been swept up in the biotic tests that drove them to live on the Citadel more often than not.  And that's how it would've gone had they taken it in stride and gotten her further treatment on-planet instead of the Citadel. Had Hannah's stations not moved further and further away from Earth. The list went on. And that's also, probably, how it would've gone had she made an actual point to stay on Earth. That didn't happen for a multitude of reasons.

Does she miss it? Not particularly. Spiders didn't follow her up, so that was a win.

No, she doesn't miss Earth exactly. She misses how she and her mother's calls end up being less and less frequent. There aren't anymore evenings that she drags Hannah out by the hand to stargaze. It isn't as if Kodelyn can't just look out a window and see them either, but it's a special sort of lonely that she can't quite put a finger on. Did she ever love the stars, the ones that eventually killed her, or was it the time spent together?

After her death over Alchera, the first thing she does once she can get her hands on a secured and encrypted channel is call her mother. She’s nearly clamoring for any real sense of reality, or part of her past that she can get her hands on.

Hannah nearly cries when she hears her daughter's voice for the first time in three years. She figures she’s lucky to get in contact with her at all, considering her current situation. Yet even though she still knows next to nothing of what Kodelyn is doing, she’s just grateful that she spares the time to speak to her.

“Hey mom?” 

“Yes?”

“Remember when we used to go star-gazing out on that hill by the house, when I was still a kid?” There’s a muffled chuckle on the other end of the line, “After Alchera, someone in Cerberus had a sense of humor and decided I must love it so much that there’s a skylight above my bed.”

Hannah curses, “Great. Is there a way you can cover it?”

“I’m looking into it,” Kodelyn answers, “Still, I think it was far more fun when my feet were on the ground, and would stay that way. You used to hold me like I was the most important thing in the galaxy when we went out there. Hard not to miss it.”

“Hard not to,” Hannah echoes the sentiment, “I can’t stay for much longer, but please, stay safe. I don’t need to find out that your ‘death’ was only a trial run.”

“I will. At least to the best of my ability. Love you.” 

[obsessedwithbbandsuju]

Faker | Prologue

Kpop Mafia!AU – YG and SM have been rivals for a good many years, but Yang Hyunsuk and Lee Sooman have both agreed to take the option that seems entirely implausible to everyone working under them: an alliance. And it will have to be sealed with something meaningful.

Warnings: Violence, smut

Pairing: Park Jungsoo/Son Taeyeon

“So these are all the children you’ve managed to find this month?” Hyunsuk asked, all the while not even bothering to look at the man at whom the question was directed. Instead, his sharp gaze swept over the children. The building wasn’t terribly fancy, nor was it something that would be considered fit for children, but after feeding, clothing, and letting them bathe, the children that they had brought in didn’t seen too unhappy. Still, the smarter, more experienced ones – the majority of the children, as most of the others had likely died already – continued to glance around warily. The ones that wouldn’t have survived if they’d been left out there much longer were already starting to loosen up, looking around with expressions of curiosity.

“For the most part, sir. There’s one more,” the man explained, and it was only then that Hyunsuk bothered to fix his eyes on him.

“Where?”

“She’s upstairs, sir. Room farthest down the hall.”

“Didn’t come down with the others?” These types of children tended to do what other children around them did. Safety in numbers, and it was difficult for them to trust adults.

“No, sir. She stayed completely still while the other children were being brought downstairs. One of our staff asked her if she wanted to come down. She said no.”

Without another word, Hyunsuk left the children to climb the stairs to the second floor. As he had expected, they would all be fairly useful in being trained as low or middle-ranking members of YG. The vast majority of the children brought in were.

He reached the second floor and walked down the long corridor to the room at the end. The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack he could see the back view of a young girl. She was sitting on a stool near the back of the room, swinging her legs.

Hyunsuk almost walked away. Swinging her legs – there was no way she could even have any type of common sense if she was relaxed enough to be swinging her legs in a situation like this. But, reminding himself that there was more to this girl than met the eye – there was more to every human than met the eye, after all – he opened the door further.

The girl looked up at him as he approached. She had straight black hair that reached her shoulders and pale skin. As her eyes, large and pale hazel with a hint of grey, settled on him, Hyunsuk almost paused in his tracks. Almost.

Even for a child who had grown up on the streets, her stare was different. It was observant – calculating. Sizing him up, gauging his intentions, estimating the danger that he posed.

It was a very excellent foundation for a member of YG, one that usually didn’t come around until about age thirteen or fourteen.

���Hi.” Hyunsuk kept his voice friendly.

“Hi.” Now that he was closer, he could see that the girl was working on a puzzle. The box lying next to it revealed that it was a thousand pieces in total, all of which were complete solid black. The puzzle itself was a little over two-thirds complete. Hyunsuk was surprised.

“Did you do this?” he asked. The girl nodded.

Hyunsuk examined her carefully for a few more seconds, his conviction growing stronger by the minute.

“What’s your name?”

She gave him another brief evaluation, clearly deciding if she should tell him or not. If he intended to hurt her in any way. He didn’t.

“I don’t have one.” The reply was matter-of-fact. Hyunsuk couldn’t tell if she was being honest or not, but he could tell if the fact mattered to her. And it didn’t. She wasn’t trying to fool him out of any attachment to a name she might have, if she did have a name. She might really not have one, or she might have one, but if she did it was one that she didn’t care about.

“How old are you?”

“Seven.”

Seven years old and this. Hyunsuk had no more doubts. He nodded, pulling out the seat next to her and settling in it. The girl turned back to her puzzle, and it took her only a few seconds to determine the location of another piece. She slid it in, and it clacked into place.

“I’m going to adopt you,” he said, deciding that it was best to tell her as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. The girl gave no reaction whatsoever. She didn’t even look at him; her gaze stayed firmly fixated on the puzzle pieces. Gingerly, she picked up another one and set it into its spot.

“Don’t you care?”

“I do, a little bit.” It was almost alien that she was so sincerely telling the truth. “But I’m not really surprised. I can’t imagine what else you would want with kids.”

Interesting. Her assessment had some flaws, but for her age, her unruffled demeanor alone was remarkable. Hyunsuk decided to test her further. “I could want to carve open their bodies and use them in the organ trafficking market,” he said. The girl looked away from the puzzle, only two pieces left until it was finished, and focused on him.

“Unless you were especially an asshat, I don’t see why you would feed them, give them clothes, and wash them.”

“You’re right,” Hyunsuk conceded. “Unless I was a particularly gleeful sadist, I probably wouldn’t.”

“What’s a sa-dist?” A gleam of interest appeared in her hazel eyes. It was the most passionate reaction that he’d seen out of her so far.

“Someone who really enjoys hurting others.” Hyunsuk leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. She seemed intensely pleased to have learned the word, mouthing it to herself a few times over.

“You know,” he said, “I could have been a pedophile. Washing and feeding and clothing these children because I want to doll them up for myself.”

As opposed to her curious reaction to the word ‘sadist’, it was clear that the girl understood exactly what a pedophile was. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed together in a grim line, and her brows dipped in an expression of revulsion. “That’s disgusting.”

“It is,” Hyunsuk agreed. “But don’t worry; you’re right, I’m not gathering children for that. You were correct, actually. Even though you didn’t think of the possibility that I might be fattening the kids up for myself, did you?”

“How do I know you’re not lying now?” Her tone was guarded; suspicious. It looked like the thought of pedophiles had stirred some warning in her. Hyunsuk wondered if, at her level of repulsed disdain, she’d had firsthand experience with them. The thought, while not impossible or even unlikely – she was a child growing up on the streets, after all – was unsettling. He had been in the underground and the illegal scope long enough to know that there were plenty of pedophiles about in the world, but he wanted nothing to do with them, nor would he want her or any child to have anything to do with them, either.

“Do you think I’m lying?” Hyunsuk asked sincerely, meeting her eyes. She stared at him for a long while, brows furrowed together in concentration. It must have been at least one minute until she leaned back slightly, her observations done.

“No.” She still looked uneasy, but her answer was confident. “You’re not.”

She was healthily wary but still seemed to believe in her instincts, which was a good sign. Hyunsuk was certain now in his decision of adopting her. He’d be damned if he let this untapped well of potential go.

“My name’s Hyunsuk. Yang Hyunsuk.”

She didn’t say anything, but she looked thoughtful. Finally, her mouth opened. “Hi.”

It seemed pointless, but it was endearing in some vague way. He returned the greeting.

“If you’re going to adopt me, are you going to name me?” the girl asked. She had returned to swinging her legs. “You can’t refer to me as ‘you’ forever.”

“You’re right.” It didn’t surprise Hyunsuk that she’d taken that initiative. “Let’s give you a name first. Is there something you’d prefer?”

“Not really. Do what you want. Just don’t make it something weird.”

Amused at her childish stipulation, Hyunsuk sat back, thoughtful. He wasn’t going for something deep or meaningful; he just wanted to give her a name that was fitting for her.

“Taeyeon? How is that?”

“That’s pretty.” There was a note of satisfaction in the girl’s voice. Her eyes seemed to brighten, despite her honest claim that she didn’t really care about not having a name – it seemed that now that she had experienced having one, she liked it. “I like it.”

“Then that’s what we’ll call you.” Hyunsuk stood. “I’ll go speak to Jaehyuk about adopting you. It won’t take long.”

“Okay.” Taeyeon turned back to her puzzle, her focus shifting entirely from him to entirely on it. She seemed to have a good attention span on top of everything he had noticed about her; an untapped well of potential indeed. He didn’t know what luck brought him to Taeyeon out of all the children in the world, or if it was just pure dumb luck, but in any case he intended to do as much as he could with her.

After a ten-minute talk with Jaehyuk, for all intents and cares, Hyunsuk had adopted Taeyeon. He took her hand and led her from the building.

“You’ve adopted me,” Taeyeon spoke from her perch in the backseat, the seatbelt pulled snugly across her waist and chest, “but I don’t think I’m your daughter.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just not the impression I’m getting.”

Hyunsuk looked back at her and smiled. “Your instincts are correct, Taeyeon.” He had suspected she was sharp, and she just kept proving it to him. “I have adopted you, but you’re not my daughter. You can still call me ‘Father’, though, if you want.”

“Okay then.” The smile she sent his way was surprisingly innocent. “Father.”

~

The kid was waking up, his lanky limbs moving feebly and his head groggily turning to the side. Sooman watched intently as his subject of interest struggled to open his eyes. The boy couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old, with a youthful face and a thin, gangly body. Despite all that, the dark brown eyes that fixed on Sooman in alarm held an unusual amount of pessimism. Not the childish pessimism of a budding adolescent thinking the world was unfair for not going exactly his way, but the grown, jaded pessimism of an adult who had experienced too much hardship in too little time and knew exactly how cruel and without mercy the world was. The impression was only heightened by the ugly purple bruise decorating his neck, splayed across the pale, wet skin, dark and painful. There were thin, elongated blotches in the structure of the bruise that resembled finger marks. Sooman’s eyes narrowed, just the slightest bit.

The boy scrambled into a sitting position, the mud and grime of the garbage dumpster he was leaning against staining his face, hands, and clothes. Sooman didn’t move; any sort of movement could startle the kid, make him bolt. And while it wouldn’t be too difficult to catch him, it was also inconvenient.

“Who are you?” The kid was trying to sound tough, but it was obvious how spooked he was. His voice – on the higher, lighter pitch of the spectrum, but then again he didn’t seem to have gone through puberty yet – trembled, and he pulled his knees up to his chest in an instinctual defensive mechanism. Now that he was awake he seemed even younger; Sooman revised his opinion. No older than thirteen.

“My name’s Sooman. What’s yours?” He kept his tone open, casual, but not too friendly. If the kid felt that he was trying to butter him up, it would be harder to approach him.

A searching stare. Hesitation. Resolution of the dilemma. “J-Jungsoo.”

“And why are you sleeping out here, Jungsoo? It’s wet and cold, and I’m sure you’d prefer a variety of other places before this one.” He didn’t expect Jungsoo to answer him honestly, whatever the boy’s honesty consisted of. If he did, he would be an idiot.

Jungsoo didn’t disappoint him. “I… I come here often. I just fell asleep this time.” While the lack of honesty was all-too-plain, Sooman still approved. The child had hit good points – made sure not to give an answer that would imply he was vulnerable or not used to this place, because anyone with harmful intentions would exploit uncertainty. It was clear that Jungsoo had had that in mind in his answer, even though his delivery was less than stellar.

“So you’re homeless? No one with a home would come here often.” There was nothing to come here for. It was just a dumpster in a dark alleyway. Maybe there were some very peculiar people who liked the grime and the stench, but Jungsoo didn’t strike him as someone like that. Besides, he already knew that the kid was lying.

Jungsoo hesitated, something like conflict in his eyes. “I’m not.” That was his answer, but it seemed to lack the resolve of an honest, sincere one. Sooman arched an eyebrow, curious.

“And yet you’re here. And come here often, apparently.”

Jungsoo nodded feebly. It was clear that the boy knew he was walking right into a verbal trap, and he could say nothing that was plausible and convincing without contradicting what he’d said earlier. Still, Sooman had to admit that there was a lot of potential here. He had run into plenty of troubled adolescents during his time in the underworld, but not many were as sharp in gauging the safety of the situation as this Jungsoo was. He’d make a good asset.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything unpleasant going on at home?”

Jungsoo gasped – well, it was more like he sucked in a breath between his teeth too fast for his lungs to handle. “No. No. Nothing like that.”

The lie was obvious. Not only because the boy’s voice was rushed and slightly panicked, but because of that bruise that splotched over his otherwise pale neck, protrusions that resembled finger marks once again catching Sooman’s eye. It looked exactly like a grown man had grabbed Jungsoo by the neck in some kind of anger.

And Sooman had been watching the boy for some time now. Well, not directly, but ever since that day a few months ago that he’d accidentally come across Jungsoo kneeling in an alleyway and sobbing, his arms wrapped around himself as he rocked back and forth without even paying attention to all the trash and muck surrounding him, he’d ordered a man to gather what information he could about him and bring it back. Nothing too invasive, like breaking into his home; just when he left his house, which was a tiny, rather run-down apartment complex towards the outskirts of the area.

And according to what information he’d gotten, Jungsoo was nowhere near as carefree as a kid his age should be. Apparently, it was rather often that he came running out of the apartment as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. Apparently, it was rather often that he skulked in alleyways and streets for hours at an end. Apparently, it was rather often that when he dashed down the street away from his home, a man would lumber out of the apartment and shout threats and abuse in his direction, waving his fists angrily.

It was obvious the kinds of conditions he lived in. And while Sooman didn’t consider himself anyone’s benefactor or SM a charity, he had good reason for wanting Jungsoo to join the ranks. And Jungsoo had pretty good reason for agreeing to.

“Your father?” Sooman asked calmly. He made sure to keep any emotion at all from his tone, to avoid setting off any reaction from the kid.

It seemed to work at least a little. Jungsoo’s body curled, his legs pulling inward towards his chest and his arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders, but otherwise, there was no particular flaring up. “W-what did you say? Have you – have you been watching me?”

“I have,” Sooman admitted. No use denying it. “Your father is disgusting; that’s undeniable. No one should have to live like that.” It wasn’t like his words were entirely untrue, because he did feel genuinely sympathetic for anyone who was faced with abusive parents, but they weren’t words he’d be saying to just anybody. He was saying them to Jungsoo, sympathizing with him, because he wanted to kid to join SM, and playing on his unfortunate situation was probably the best way to convince him to do so.

Jungsoo’s eyes wavered.

“If you want,” continued Sooman, seeing plainly that what he was saying was having the intended effect, “then I can help you.”

The kid wiped at his eyes frantically, as if he could tell he was about to tear up and cry but didn’t want to in front of anyone. It didn’t seem like the immature ego of a teenager wanting to appear touch, but the desperation of an adult who knew any sign of weakness could be preyed on by strangers. “Why should I trust you?” he asked quietly.

“It’s an opportunity.” Jungsoo stared at him in confusion, so Sooman elaborated.

“It’s an opportunity to escape from your father. Do you think you’ll find a better chance than this? Someone offering to help you? If you can’t take this opportunity, do you think you’ll ever find it in yourself to get away from him?”

“But for all I know you’re not even giving me that opportunity,” Jungsoo challenged. He sounded a bit shaky, like he wasn’t used to tiptoeing his way around logic games – which made sense, considering his physically violent father. “You could be planning to just sell me. Or to––” He shuddered, and Sooman didn’t need words to know what possibility the boy was thinking of. It irritated him to even be looked at with the possibility of being trash like that, but it was only expected for a kid in Jungsoo’s situation.

“Do you think that’s what I’m planning to do?” he asked, meeting Jungsoo’s eyes. The adolescent flinched, but held his gaze.

“I – I… don’t know.” Well. If Jungsoo was openly admitting to not knowing something, admitting to an uncertainty, an insecurity, to him, then it was a sign that he was opening up. It was faster than Sooman had expected it to take, but then again, when your father hit you and beat you, maybe you were quick to cling on to other people, even unconsciously.

“Of course you don’t. You’d never know for sure.” Sooman made sure to keep his voice quiet and soothing. “But what do you think?”

Jungsoo hesitated, his gaze flicking over him warily. It must have been a good fifteen seconds before the boy spoke again. “I don’t think that’s what you’re planning to do.”

“If that’s what you think, then trust your instincts,” Sooman advised – sincerely, because that was almost all that he’d been doing for the past decade and a half. Trusting his instincts not to fail him. He wasn’t dead yet, so he must have been doing something right. He knew it was a gigantic leap for Jungsoo to even begin to consciously put any trust in him, but if he wasn’t willing to take risks like this then he would never be able to advance – and that meant he was pretty much worthless.

Jungsoo hesitated again. His eyes wavered as he stared at Sooman, as if he was trying to look into his mind and puzzle out if he was truly being honest, or if he had harmful intentions. He breathed in shakily. His lower lip trembled. His hand reached up to rub subconsciously at the angry purple bruise on his neck – the one that his father had left.

“…How will you help me?”

Pleased, Sooman leaned back a little, the tension of Jungsoo’s imminent decision dissipating. “For starters,” he said, “I’m going to get you away from your father.”

Jungsoo was silent as a statue and even stiller. There was a mix of hope, eagerness, terror, sadness, and resentment in his dark eyes that was, admittedly, heartbreaking. No teenager should have to feel like this about leaving his only remaining family.

“How?” he finally asked. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s Lee Sooman,” Sooman introduced himself. “And for starters, you need to come with me. Don’t worry about your father anymore; I’ll take you to a place where he can never get you.” He offered Jungsoo his hand to help him get to his feet, and, just as he’d expected, the teenager didn’t immediately take it. Instead, he stared at the outstretched limb, uncertainty once again coloring his gaze. Sooman didn’t blame him, but he also didn’t have all the time in the world.

“Trust your instincts, Jungsoo.”

Jungsoo took a deep breath. His lower lip trembled again, and Sooman thought the boy might burst into tears – but Jungsoo’s eyes hardened. He reached up and took the hand.

[tact-and-impulse]

Shinkane Week Day 7

The conclusion from yesterday (and fair warning, it tilts M in the last half). Thanks @shinkaneweek for putting this event together!

Prompt: Fate

“I only have one bed.” The words left her mouth before she could think twice, and she hastily added. “I have extra blankets so one of us can sleep on the floor.”

“I can.” He readily volunteered. “It can’t be any worse than chairs.”

“Or you can have the bed. You must be tired from traveling.”

“No, I’ll take the floor.” He reiterated, firmer this time.

How stubborn, she thought but smiled. “Alright then.”

She folded the blankets into a semblance of a futon, before realizing they hadn’t discussed where exactly he’d be sleeping. He had jumped into the shower, and she hesitated at the thought of disturbing him.

The bathroom’s connected to my room, so I’ll just leave the blankets near my bed. When he gets out, he can move wherever he likes.

Her nightstand was in her peripheral vision, but now that this was real, she was doubting herself. In the background, the pour of water was relentless. The lights in the hallway were too bright. Her awareness had been sharpened ever since he walked through her door, windblown from his motorcycle and mouth curling when their gazes met. They’d greeted each other with familiarity and a handshake, a strange contrast to how they reunited last year. She easily recalled that encounter. His thighs under her hands, his body braced over hers when the drone struck, his shirt on her frame to conceal her identity.

Itching to do something, Akane slipped under the covers of her bed, fixating her attention on her phone messages. As she pulled down the sleeves of her powder blue pajama top, her phone lit with an update from Kaori. Her friend was thinking of names for the baby due next year, and she began to draft a reply. She still noticed when the shower abruptly stopped.

Kougami stepped out in his spare clothes, black shirt on black pants. He vigorously dried his hair with a towel. “Thanks again.”

“Sure. The blankets are right here, so make yourself comfortable wherever you want.”

He nodded, continuing to rub the towel back and forth. The muscles of his arms shifted underneath his sleeves. He sat down in the middle of the blankets, minding the extra pillow she’d placed at one end. He wasn’t moving.

Her pulse sped faster.

“So…” Kougami draped the cloth around his neck and expectantly looked up at her. “We have time now.”

“Huh?”

“To talk.”

Right. Talking. “Where should I start? I did mention some things over the phone.”

She told him about the case Ginoza and Shimotsuki handled, what they uncovered and their success. Kunizuka’s Psycho-Pass had recovered to an acceptable level, and she had a set date to returning to society, though she was loath to leave Karanomori behind.

“They’ll be just as surprised as I was to see you.” She remarked.

“I wonder how they’ll react. Gino warned me not to show my face near Unit 1 again, and then, he punched me in the face.”

“Is that what happened?” She had figured as much but it was good to have it confirmed.

“Ah. He used his non-robotic arm, so he showed some mercy.” He ran a hand along one cheek with a sardonic smile. “I’ll prepare myself for the same treatment.”

“Well, it could be different this time. It’s been a year.”

“I hope so. That reminds me, I’d like to pay respects to Pops.” A pensive moment followed, and Akane inevitably thought of Kagari, along with the old sting that there was no grave for the other fallen Enforcer. “You said Mama was getting over a cold?”

It was endearing, that a grown man like him still referred to his mother so affectionately. “Tomoyo-san almost kicked me out, she didn’t want to infect me. But she rarely coughed and her temperature was just a little warm. She doesn’t show any weakness.”

“Hmph, Mama acts strong but she’s only human. By the way, you call her ‘Tomoyo-san’, but you still refer to me as ‘Kougami-san’.” Was that envy in his tone?

“You’ve always been Kougami-san to me.” She countered. “I think your mother noticed I hesitated around her, and she was kind enough to suggest ‘Tomoyo-san’.”

“When we meet, I’ll bring up how unfair that is. I met you first.”

“And you left first.” Her annoyance seeped through and she instantly regretted it. She averted her gaze from him and the nightstand, shame bubbling up in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you were right. I was being childish and she must know you better, given how long it’s been.” The wall between them was reforming, and when she stole a glance, his expression was impassive.

“I do like talking to her, but I wouldn’t say she knows me better. In fact, I haven’t made any new friends in a long time, not since a certain case.”

“This is the tough one you mentioned before.” He stated.

She related the notable events while avoiding the truth of the Sybil System. Kamui, the loss of Aoyanagi and the gain of Sugo, the sadistic game that had targeted her. She tried to be neutral, like she was dictating a report, but her voice shook when her grandmother inevitably entered the narrative.

The bed creaked. He sat next to her, one hand on her shoulder to steady her. He didn’t speak, but his shadowed eyes told her to keep going. She managed not to cry, although it’d been close and she pressed her fingertips against the unshed tears.

“It’s easier than before, I could at least finish talking.”

“There’s no rush. You were close to her, and you blame yourself, that you could have done more to protect her. It’s how she died that you regret, but it becomes easier to bear. You’ve shown me that, just now.”

She had thought about what he would say about this case, and his actual words were exactly what she expected. But his voice, his touch, his scent…those made it all real and sweet pain bloomed in her chest. He was here, reassuring her, and it was not a dream. She breathed, in and out, and felt calmer.

“Thank you, Kougami-san. I’ve talked enough about myself. Do you have any stories?” She put on a brave face, and his hand slipped off. Her shoulder was noticeably cool.

He must have recognized the atmosphere and avoided talking about his travels, promising he’d give a timeline later. Instead, he provided the rundown on what being a tactical advisor for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs meant, and what he knew of his schedule. His first day was technically Monday, but he had to complete preliminary administrative tasks tomorrow afternoon. That gave her a good excuse to suggest turning in, and he agreed, returning to the blankets on the floor.

She switched off the lights, glad that whatever expression she was making couldn’t be seen. “Good night, Kougami-san.”

“Good night.”

Her bed was still warm from his presence. It was quiet enough that she could hear his slow breathing. She turned from one side to the other, and even that made too much noise for her liking. Shadows danced behind her closed eyes. She was considering the monotony of counting in her head, when he spoke.

“You’re not asleep.”

***

There was more rustling, as she kicked off the blankets. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw her legs swing over the side of the bed as she sat up.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked.

“Nothing definitive.” A pause. “My friend Kaori wants to name her child Koyuki if it’s a girl.”

He recognized the significance. “It’s not a bad name.”

“Her husband’s concerned that such a name will affect her Psycho-Pass, that she’ll always think of Yuki and what happened.”

“That’s certainly possible, but she doesn’t know whether the baby will be a girl.”

“I planned to remind her of that, and maybe, the baby won’t look like a Koyuki.”

Amused, he propped himself on his elbows before mirroring her position. “Would you want the same life?”

“I would have to find someone to marry first, but I’m too busy with work.” She lightly said, and he hid how pleased he was. “What about you?”

“No one ever caught my eye.”

“Hanashiro-san was able to bring you back.”

As much as he enjoyed her passive-aggressive jealousy, he quelled it. “I made a deal with her; I’d work for her if she’d help me kill someone.” He confessed the full story to her, about Tenzing and the peacekeeper mercenaries and how he’d committed murder again. She listened without comment, only moving to turn on the lights so they could face each other properly.

At the end, she said. “I can’t judge you with a Dominator. I don’t know what I would see, if I could. If I had been there, I would have done my best to find a different way. However, I wasn’t and you took the path you thought was right. In such a place without laws, you sought a form of justice for Tenzing, her family, and the other victims. It can’t be undone, but you claimed responsibility in order to protect peace. That counts for something, and Tenzing did not pursue revenge on her own. Your words reached her, don’t forget how important that is.”

His throat was dry. A small part of him, that had been gradually growing in her presence, had desired absolution, and she’d given it so freely.

“So you came back, because you couldn’t stay on the mainland.”

“It would be a lot harder with an entire country wanting a bullet in my head.”

“Would you rather have stayed?”

“Five years is a long time. Little by little, I was growing tired of warzones.”

“You did not make a good stray dog.” She smiled, and he returned the expression.

“But you’re an even better owner than before, from what I’ve heard of the Public Safety Bureau. We’ve both changed since Shamballa, though there’s no case for us now.”

“No, and there probably won’t be, unless it’s a case that involves both domestic and foreign affairs.”

“That wasn’t my point.” At her confusion, he asked. “Why do you think I’m here? In your house?”

She was visibly thrown off guard, echoing. “Why…?”

He stood and walked over to her, bending close. She stared at him with trepidation, but she didn’t seem repelled. He leaned in, stopped short of her mouth, and answered his own question. “I want to be with you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re too cunning, Kougami-san.” And she closed the distance.

The kiss was clumsy at first, before they settled into each other. He cupped the back of her head, her silky hair in his palm, and marveled at the feel of her. When they stopped for air, he looked at her flushed, dazed face and completely surrendered.

“I changed my mind. I’ll join you on the bed.”

“Then, come.” She pulled away, sliding further on the mattress, to make room. It was an invitation to follow and he accepted, moving over her.

He paused. “I didn’t bring any-”

“I went to the nearest store before you arrived. Here, in the top drawer.” She said even as she reached for the knob on her nightstand. The assortment of contraceptives was impressive, and it was obvious she didn’t know what to buy other than to prepare for any possibility. Of course, she would.

He couldn’t suppress his laughter.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” He kissed her pouting lips. “You thought of everything, didn’t you, Inspector?”

“Almost everything.” The corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk. “You have the rest, Kougami-san.”

Her answer intensified the roar of blood in his ears, and he released her. He stripped off his shirt, tossing it to the floor, and admired her appreciative gaze before she remembered to undo her buttons. The powder blue pajamas soon joined his black clothes, and he leisurely looked over her. The freckle at the inner slope of one breast, the gentle curve of her hips, her legs pressed against one another.

A rosy hue colored her cheeks, but she lifted her chin. “And please don’t call me ‘Inspector’ again.”

“Tsunemori-san, then? Or just Tsunemori?”

“You called me something else once.”

He knew exactly what she was referring to, and strangely, he was embarrassed. He scratched the back of his neck. “And in return, I get ‘Kougami-san’?”

“No.” Her eyes sparkled. “You’ll find out soon.” Her hands grasped his shoulders, bringing him in again.

He fumbled with the condom, which he blamed on her stroking his thighs. Her touch was too shy, ultimately teasing. Damn her. “You’re really not helping; you’ll regret it.” He exasperatedly said.

She had the audacity to giggle. “It’s payback.”

“For what?” There, he had it and he grabbed her by the waist. Laid out on the bed, she feigned an innocent, wide-eyed appearance despite the challenging accent to her clarification.

“For sleeping on chairs last year.”

He braced himself over her, taking pleasure in her dark pupils and swollen mouth. “Call it foreplay. Are you ready now?”

In her expression, there was determination and eagerness and something else he recognized but could not name aloud yet. “Yes.”

She was already slippery, and his fingers slid to the knuckles without much effort on his part. It only took some coaxing before she was relaxed. When they finally fit together, she sharply inhaled.

He touched her cheek. “Alright?”

“Mm.” She nodded, struggling to keep her eyes open. Lazily, she caressed his arms, his chest, his abdomen. “It’s good.”

He kissed her again, his heart aching. “Akane…” He murmured on her skin. And then, there was no more talking for a while. He focused on what she liked: his thumb sweeping over her clit, the circling of his tongue on each of her nipples, a steady pace as he drove within her.

She came first, shivering around him and nails biting into his back. A choked gasp was his only warning before she delivered the blow. “Shinya-san.”

That was much better, and he was taken to the edge. The timing hadn’t been right last year, but now…now was a good time. He was home and there was no place he’d rather be.

Afterwards, he nuzzled her throat. “Feel like you can sleep now?”

“…Not yet.” She flipped them over and before they started anew, he decided that if she offered, he’d stay for as long as fate would allow them.