#can’t BELIEVE I’m saying this about a man

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hellooooo!

I have an idea and I am going to give it to you if you want.

Reader that is deaf, Yandere!Sonic, yandere!Knuckles, yandere!Shadow (separately) the bois didn't know that reader is deaf until eggman's robots decided to attacked them. They called out for reader but only to realize that reader is deaf.

A/n: these were kind of rushed

Yandere!Sonic/Knuckles/Shadow x Deaf Reader

Sonic:

Being around Sonic was always an adventure. His constant energy and carefree attitude could light up any situation, and for someone like you, Sonic's world was exhilarating. He’d often dash off mid-sentence, leaving you to guess what he was saying, but you didn’t mind. His antics spoke volumes on their own.

What Sonic didn’t know about you, however, was your deafness. You’d learned to adapt, reading lips, watching expressions, and observing the world carefully. Sonic, being Sonic, never noticed. His world moved so fast that he didn’t question why you didn’t always respond immediately or why you tilted your head to watch him so closely.

It all came down one day when Eggman’s robots attacked. You were walking through Green Hill Zone, enjoying the breeze, when the ground trembled beneath your feet. Sonic, as usual, showed up in a flash, shouting something. You didn’t catch it, but you smiled at him and nodded.

"Hey! You’ve gotta get out of here!" Sonic yelled, but when you didn’t move, his smile faltered. He darted to your side, grabbed your hand, and led you away from the battle.

As you both reached a safe spot, he turned to you, his brow furrowed. "Why didn’t you move when I told you to?"

You could tell he was upset, but before you could explain, another explosion erupted, and Sonic raced back. He took down the robots effortlessly, but his mind was racing faster than his feet. Something wasn’t adding up.

After the battle, Sonic confronted you again. His normally carefree demeanor was replaced by concern "Hey, you’re gonna tell me what’s going on, right?"

When you finally explained your deafness, Sonic’s eyes widened. At first, he was stunned, then guilty, and finally, protective.

"Oh, man... I had no idea. That’s why you didn’t move?" He paused, running a hand through his quills. "I can’t believe I didn’t notice. You could’ve gotten hurt!"

From that moment on, Sonic became glued to your side. He was always watching you, ensuring you were safe. He started learning sign language, obsessively practicing until he could communicate with you fluently. While his efforts seemed sweet at first, his protective nature quickly became suffocating.

"I can’t leave you alone," he’d say, standing in your doorway as you tried to explain that you needed space. "What if something happens? What if I’m not there to protect you?"

Sonic’s world was fast-paced, but when it came to you, he was willing to slow down, if only to keep you by his side.

Knuckles:

Knuckles wasn’t one for small talk. His nature meant he rarely spoke more than necessary, which suited you just fine. Your communication with him was largely through gestures and expressions, and he didn’t question it. To him, it felt natural, like the two of you shared an unspoken bond.

But that bond was tested the day Eggman’s robots came for the Master Emerald. You had been helping Knuckles keep watch, your presence a calming effect on him. When the first robot appeared, Knuckles barked out a command.

"Get back! I’ll handle this!"

You didn’t move, too focused on the robot’s sudden approach. Knuckles sighed in frustration, rushing to shield you. After taking down the first wave, he turned to you, his eyes blazing with anger.

"I told you to move! Why didn’t you listen? Are you even listening?"

Your confusion must have shown on your face, because Knuckles stopped mid-rant. His fists unclenched as realization dawned. "Wait... can you even hear me?"

When you shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as you signed your explanation, Knuckles froze. He wasn’t mad at you, he was furious with himself.

"I didn’t know..." he muttered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "You’ve been here all this time, and I never noticed."

From that day forward, Knuckles became overbearing. He was always by your side, watching you like a hawk. He insisted on teaching you how to defend yourself, his training sessions grueling and relentless.

"You need to be able to protect yourself if I’m not there," he’d say, though the thought of leaving you alone made him sick to his stomach.

Knuckles’ obsession with your safety only grew. He’d isolate you on Angel Island, insisting it was the only place you’d be truly safe. "I alone, am capable enough to protect you" he’d say, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Shadow:

Shadow was observant by nature. It didn’t take him long to notice that something was different about you. You rarely reacted to loud noises, and your eyes were always focused on his lips when he spoke. Still, he didn’t say anything, content to keep his suspicions to himself.

That changed during a mission to stop Eggman. You were part of the team, assisting while Shadow handled the heavy lifting. When the attack came, Shadow barked out a command.

"Get to cover!"

You didn’t respond, your attention fixed on the approaching danger. Shadow cursed under his breath, teleporting to your side just in time to shield you from an explosion.

After the battle, he confronted you, his eyes narrowed. "Why didn’t you listen to me?"

When you explained your deafness, Shadow’s expression didn’t change, but his mind was racing. He hated the thought of you being vulnerable, especially in a fight.

"You should’ve told me," he said, his voice cold. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

From that moment on, Shadow took it upon himself to protect you. His methods were extreme, he shadowed your every move, ensuring you were never out of his sight. He even went as far as to demand that you stay out of battles entirely.

"You’re a liability," he’d say, though that wasntbthe full truth. Shadow didn’t see you as a weakness, he saw you as his responsibility. And in his mind, that meant keeping you safe at all cost, even if it meant controlling every aspect of your life.

"You don’t need anyone else," his voice soft yet chilling. "I’ll protect you. Always."

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 1

// I present to you… MY FIRST EVER FANFIC! It’s inspired by these headcanons and these posts. As mentioned before, in this story, the Sakamakis are simply regular idols with a vampire-themed concept; they’re not actually vampires or related. Since I noticed how much you all enjoy this kind of content and have been so supportive, I thought you might like a fanfic based on it. ☺️

I’m by no means a professional writer, and my style leans more towards the visual novel/otome game format. Even so, I hope you’ll like it! 💕

Voice announcement: Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at our destination.

Before you disembark, please take a moment to ensure you have all your personal belongings with you. For your safety, mind the gap between the train and the platform edge as you exit.

We sincerely thank you for choosing our services and travelling with us. It has been our pleasure to serve you, and we hope to welcome you aboard again soon. Take care!

Yui: ( Eh? Is this…—! )

— eyes widen —

I’m here… I’m finally here!

Yui’s Monologue

I can’t believe my dream is actually coming true! All this time, this seemed like a childish wish but right now I truly am in Tokyo…!

Uuh… I’m getting a bit emotional, but can you blame me? It simply feels… surreal.

I never thought my father would agree to let me join a work exchange program in such a massive and dynamic city.

To be honest, I was half expecting him to say no, but it seems he believes in me more than I thought.

Knowing that he trusts me this much… it really makes me want to work even harder to prove he made the right choice.

Yes, that’s so. I will try my best to make father proud!

— takes big breath —

Yui: Nice to meet you, Tokyo. Let’s make this journey one to remember.

Place: Studio

Photographer: And~… pose! Ah yes, exactly like that! Keep on, keep on!

Ayato: ( Man, this shit is so tiring at this point. )

— smiles falsely —

Photographer: W-Wonderful…! Another one, thank you!

— keeps taking pictures —

Ayato: ( Can this woman stop blinding me with that flashlight already? It’s past 11 pm… )

Photographer: Now, a profile sho——

Manager: Hold on.

Pardon my intrusion, but I believe we already have enough pictures for today. Don't you think so?

Photographer: Eh? But we just got star— Oh my, it’s almost 12 am!?

G-Geez, my apologies. I guess the saying “time flies when you’re having fun” must really apply here.

— winks at Ayato —

Ayato: ( Gross! )

Manager: If more promotional pictures are required, we can extend the photoshoot to tomorrow. Watanabe-san, would it be possible for you to arrive earlier if that is the case?

Photographer: With such eye candy around, who could resist spending more time with him~?

Fufu, just kidding. I'll contact the director and get back to you with an answer as soon as possible.

Until then, have a good night! Bye-bye~!

— leaves —

Ayato: Haa… thanks goodness! One more photo, and I might’ve completely lost it.

Manager: I understand completely. Given your schedule, it’s clear you’re quite overworked. Nevertheless, it’s impressive how you still manage to perform so well.

Ayato: Heh… thanks.

— rubs eyes —

Manager: You look a bit tired, Ayato-san. Rest assured, the limousine should be arriving soon.

Ayato: Right, the limo is on its——

( Fuck! I can’t believe I almost forgot about it! )

Wait! Now that I think about it, I’ve got something else to take care of.

So… don’t mind me! Go ahead and take the limo; I’ll call for another one later.

Manager: Haa… Ayato-san.

You're not planning to do something that could get you into trouble, are you?

Ayato: O-Of course not! It’s just… no, it’s nothing important. Just a silly little thing I remembered I had to solve.

— tries to leave —

Manager: Ayato-san!

Ayato: Huh?

Manager: Do NOT let anyone see you, understood?

— Ayato nods and leaves —

???: You’re late.

Ayato: …!

Man, you almost gave me a heart attack!

Laito: My bad~. You came prepared at least, didn’t you?

Ayato: Yeah, yeah.

— puts cap and mask on —

Laito: Nfu, let’s go, shall we?

Place: Street

Yui: Uuh… come on! Why is no taxi in sight?

( It’s been two hours and I still couldn’t find my way to the Airbnb. )

( I knew Tokyo was huge, but I wasn’t expecting the transportation system to be this complicated… )

— looks at sky —

( It’s already late, huh? )

( I wonder if it’s safe for a girl to roam on these streets at this hour. Well, at least I hope it is, otherwise… )

Place: Private Night Club

Laito: Two Cosmopolitans. One for me, and one for that very fine lady over there, nfu.

Ayato: Another glass of Tequila.

Laito: Heh, another one? Is this the fifth by chance?

Ayato: I had a busy week, okay?

Laito: Ah, of course you did. After all, our Ayato-kun is the IT boy of this generation. Always swamped with brand deals, while the rest of us barely get a crumb~.

Ayato: …Not funny.

Laito: C’mon, don’t take it too seriously.

— pats his back —

I doubt any of us could care less about brand deals anyway. The idol job already pays well enough, and with barely any time for ourselves, why would we want to give up even more of our freedom?

Ayato: ( It’s not like it’s my choice though. )

Well, I can’t deny that the love I get is cool and all, but sometimes… hmm, how do I put it? It feels like people only like me because I’m an idol, y’know?

Laito: That’s to be expected, isn’t it? Fans often form a one-sided connection with idols simply because we’re constantly visible and accessible through the media, without really knowing who we are or what we’re capable of.

On top of that, you’re the visual, the face everyone admires. Who wouldn’t be drawn to someone who's not only stunning but also famous? It’s like the perfect package for embodying every girl’s fantasy.

Ayato’s monologue

Laito… he always knows what to say.

Seriously, this guy is so aware of everything around him to the point that it’s becoming unsettling.

And the worst part? He’s not just talking—he’s right, which is why it almost hurts to hear it.

At the end of the day, we idols are just puppets, carefully crafted to feed into the fans’ delusions. They don’t see us for who we truly are, but rather as a fantasy they can cling to.

And we, caught in the spotlight, are forced to live out that role.

Before becoming an idol, I was surrounded by people who kept me around because of my looks. At first, the amount of attention felt good, but as I mature, I realize just how hollow that really is.

I can’t help but wonder… if it weren’t for my appearance or status, would anyone actually treat me nicely? Would anyone be willing to accept me, flaws and all?

Heh… now I just sound stupid. As long as I’m an idol, I doubt I’ll get my answer anytime soon.

Waitress: Here we go, gentlemen. The Cosmopolitan and the Tequila.

Laito: Hello, earth to Ayato-kun, are you still in there?

— waves in front of his eyes —

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I was just spacing out a bit.

Laito: Nfu, cheers.

Ayato: Cheers.

— they start drinking —

Ayato: Ngh…!

( My chest… it started aching! )

Laito: Hm, you good?

Ayato: Y-Yeah… I just— Ngh!

( It’s getting worse! )

I need some fresh air, that’s all.

— quickly puts on mask and cap —

I’ll be right back.

— quickly goes outside —

( Haa… Haa… what is happening…!? )

Agh… fuck!

( It hurts…! Could this be…—— )

— eyes widen —

( No… No, don’t tell me this is a real heart attack! )

Hnn… Ngh!

( What… what should I do now!? )

???: Quick! Please, drink this!!

— hands him water —

Ayato: Huh…?

— takes it and starts drinking —

???: A-Are you feeling better? I got another bottle in case you need it too.

Ayato: Haa… Haa… It’s okay now, all good.

???: Are you sure…? You really seemed in a lot of pain.

Ayato: Yeah… no worries.

( This girl… she just saved my life, didn’t she? )

By the way, uhm… thanks for that.

???: A-Ah, it’s nothing, really.

As far as I recall from my father, drinking water after alcohol can help reduce chest pain and lessen the severity of a hangover. I’m glad to see that it actually works.

Ayato: Heck yeah, I’m glad to see that it worked too, otherwise who knows how I would have ended up.

— the girl giggles —

???: You should be more careful though. Drinking too much alcohol can be very dangerous.

Ayato: ( Okay, mom. )

Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m not usually like that.

Moreover… why exactly did you help me?

???: Eh? What do you mean?

Ayato: ( Could it be that she actually recognized me? )

( My face is practically hidden behind the mask and cap, and we’re in the dark, so there’s no way she could have, right? But if she did… )

???: Uuh… I suppose it was out of pure instinct.

Ayato: Instinct, huh?

???: Yup. You see, I heard you struggling, so there was no way I could brush that off.

Ayato: Hmm… But wait a minute, what were you doing all alone at this hour?

( What if she’s a stalker then? )

???: Ah… uhm… T-That’s a bit embarrassing to say out loud.

Ayato: Oh, come on, you straight up saw me about to drop dead from drinking Tequila. There’s no way this could be more embarrassing than that.

???: Actually… today’s my first day in Tokyo, and I’ve been struggling for almost 3 hours just trying to get to my Airbnb.

I tried taking the subway, but there were way too many lines, and I got lost at some point.

As for taxis, every time I tried to flag one down, the driver just ignored me.

Ayato: ( Nevermind, I’m taking it back. This might truly be more embarrassing. )

Pfft, why didn’t you call for a cab then?

???: I couldn’t find any reliable number…

Ayato: Hmm… Alright then.

I just arranged one for you. You’ll just have to tell them your location and wait for them to get you there. There’s also no need for you to pay.

— lends her money —

???: E-Eh!? Thank you… thank you so much! But I’m sorry, I just can’t accept the money!

Ayato: Nah, it’s fine, seriously. After all, you’re the one who helped me first.

Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happened today. Understood?

— the girl nods —

Ayato: Heh, great. Well, I guess it was nice to meet you. Now it’s time for me to return.

???: W-Wait! I forgot to catch your name!

Ayato: …!

( So she really doesn’t know me? )

It’s——

( No… it’s too risky. )

Oh look, the cab arrived! You should hurry up!

???: But—

( He left…? )

Yui’s monologue

As the taxi started moving, I found myself looking back, almost subconsciously, hoping to catch one last glimpse of that boy.

Today had been exhausting, but despite the strange circumstances in which we met, those brief minutes spent with him were oddly comforting.

I wonder who he is and what his life is like. It feels a bit silly, I know, to be thinking so much about someone whose name I don’t even know.

But there was something in his presence that made me feel in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.

Whatever it was, it stuck with me, lingering in my thoughts even after we parted ways.

My journey has only just begun, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that meeting him was no coincidence.

I really hope I get the chance to cross paths with him again.

[tomorrowusa]

Historian and writer on democracy Timothy Snyder says that there should be no question as to who is dominant in the Musk-Trump relationship.

Allies and aides to Donald Trump should be increasingly concerned by Elon Musk’s proximity to and influence on the US president-elect, the Yale historian and bestselling author Timothy Snyder said. “Trump is a little guy, and Musk is a big guy when it actually comes to having money,” Snyder said. “And I think if you were a friend of Trump, you would be worried.” [ ... ] Snyder expects that Trump’s soon-to-be home, the White House, will be a stage for uncomfortable and damaging discord between the president-elect and his most powerful ally, the world’s richest man. “I think we overestimate Trump and we underestimate Musk,” Snyder said. “People can’t help but think that Trump has money, but he doesn’t. He’s never really had money. He’s never even really claimed to have money. His whole notion is that you have to believe that he has money. But he’s never been able to pay his own debts. He’s never been able to finance his own campaigns. “Musk, with an amount of money that was meaningless to him, was able to finance Trump’s campaign, essentially.” [ ... ] Since Trump’s victory in November, from Mar-a-Lago in Florida to Notre Dame in Paris, Musk has been constantly at Trump’s side, earning the satirical nickname “first buddy” but also an appointment with the biotech investor Vivek Ramaswamy to jointly head the “department of government efficiency”, or “Doge”, a group tasked with meeting Trump’s wildly ambitious campaign promise of slashing trillions from federal spending. Considering instances of Musk’s apparent influence over Trump as the president-elect has struggled to control congressional Republicans – an unruly party already split on how to continue funding the government they also want to defund – Snyder said: “All the threats that Trump is now going to issue – ‘I’m going to primary people, I’m going to sue people’ – Musk is going to pay for that, not Trump. And when Trump needs money for anything, he’s going to be asking Musk. “Unless Trump breaks it off right now, he’s going to be in this kind of dependent relationship for the rest of the way, because you get used to people giving you money … and I think if you were a friend of Trump, you would be worried.”

Prof. Snyder has invented a name for this peculiar relationship.

“So I thought about this dependency position,” Snyder said. “I was going to call it Muskotrumpovia, because I think Musk is a more important person, but Trumpomuskovia had a nicer ring to it. “And also, I wanted Muskovia because I wanted the idea of Russia to be there in the background, because a lot of smart Russia hands are saying this all the time: this is kind of like the 1990s in Russia. You have the doddering, rich-but-not-very-rich president [Boris Yeltsin], surrounded by more youthful, more active, ambitious oligarchs. That’s the kind of scenario [America is] in.”

Trump thinks he's Vladimir Putin but he's more like Boris Yeltsin – but stupid instead of drunk like ol' Boris.

[butlervibesonly]

𝐵𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑒 | Austin Burler

• SUMMARY: Ashley, Austin’s sister, is checking up on her soon to be sister in law, and on her brother too before their wedding, to find out they’re both nervous wreck’s and, well… So made for each other.

• PAIRING: Austin Butler x female reader + Austin’s sister is included 🥰

• WARNINGS: nothing just fluff and most cute nervousness before wedding, maybe typos

“Oh my gosh, Y/n!” you hear Ashley gasp. You're counting down the last minutes until the ceremony. By now, your friends, who helped you with your dress and makeup, also had to get ready, so you were alone in your room. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Y/n!”

You fix some details on your dress, smiling at Ashley who also looks so beautiful in her dress. “Thank you, Ash.” As Ashley comes closer to you, she helps to adjust your veil. “How are you feeling?” she asks, noticing the nervousness in your eyes.

"Honestly?” you sigh. “I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest. I’m so nervous. What if... what if something goes wrong? What if I mess up, or he realizes—" Before you can even finish this sentence, Ashley stops you.

"Whoa, slow down. Let me stop you right there. First of all, nothing is going to go wrong, alright? And second you’re marrying my brother and he loves you. Like, completely, unconditionally, can’t-stop-talking-about-you loves you."

You laugh softly and nervously “He does talk a lot, doesn’t he?" Ashley nods while taking your hands in hers. "Oh, trust me, nonstop. He’s been like this since the day he met you. You should hear him when you’re not around. You’re his world, Y/n. And I’ve never seen him so happy."

Ashley’s words make your eyes filled with tears. You can’t believe you’re here, few minutes before marrying the man of your dreams forever. “Really?” you smile surprisingly at her.

“I wouldn’t joke about this. You’re everything he ever wanted. And trust me — this day is the day he always dreamed about.” Ashley was like your sister since the day one. She supports you in everything and loves you like you have always been the part of family.

“I just... don’t want to let him down, you know.”

“You won’t. Just be yourself as you are always “, Y/n, and this day will be perfect. You’ve got this, okay? And we all love you not only him!” Her hands are on your shoulders as he is looking into your eyes - with those eyes that are so familiar to Austin’s.

“Woah, thank you... really. You guys are the best thing that could ever happen to me.” you say, relieved. Ashley wraps her arms around you to pull you into a gentle hug as she doesn’t want to ruin your beautiful dress.

“Anytime. You’ll be part of family after all,” you two giggle. “Now, take another deep breath, and you will make my brother the luckiest man alive in any second.” she says and before she leaves, she turns in the door. “But first let me check on him,” she smirks making you laugh.

As Ashley knocks on her brother’s room, walking in she sees Austin adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Knock, knock. How’s the groom doing?” Austin lets out a breath, running a hand through his “Oh, you know... I’m so nervous. Like I have never been.”

Ashley smiles widely, remembering you told her the exact same thing. “Yea, definitely soulmates…” she murmurs, coming closer to help Austin with his tie. “What was that?” Austin asks as he didn’t understand what Ashley said.

“Oh, nothing. Just confirming what I already knew. You two are perfect for each other.” she replies and is done with his tie. Austin sits down on the bed with a deep sight. “I just... I don’t want to mess this up, you know? She’s everything to me. What if—“

“Nope. Don’t even go there. Listen to me, you’re not going to mess anything up, okay? You are over the heels about Y/n since the day one, do you know how I know?” Ashley looks at her brother as he furrows his eyebrows, waiting for what she wants to tell him.

“Because you never stop talking about Y/n, Austin. I’ve never seen you happier over anyone else like this. She’s good for you. And more importantly, you’re good for her. She loves you just as much as you love her, maybe even more-.

Austin smiles softly, taking notes of what Ashley says. “So stop worrying. She’s walking down that aisle because she wants to. All you have to do is be there, say 'I do,' and try not to cry much."

“No, no… Absolutely no promises on the crying part.” Austin says, pointing at the emergency tissue in his pocket. Ashley laughs, and as Austin stand up, they both hug,

“Remember, Aus, you’ve got this. You’re her everything, her friend, her partner in crime, her future husband. Now take a deep breath and let’s go make her Mrs. Butler.” Austin nods and as the clocks ticks the time of the ceremony, that is where your future begins. Your future as Mr. and Mrs. Butler.

[twopoppies]

Gina, I want to tell you I have been reading your blog for a couple years now. I’ve never sent an ask to anyone. I first came into the fandom when I watched Harrychella and I thought hmm this man isn’t just flagging he is screaming at the top of his lungs. Then I watched the Cosmic Leeds videos and I fell down a rabbit hole. I am not someone who believes “conspiracy theories”. I am however old enough to know closeting has been proven to exist in the entertainment industry. I’m also from a rural area of the U.S. where homophobia is the norm, so unfortunately I had no trouble believing closeting still exists. I went into full information gathering mode about Larry Stylinson, but it was more than that too. I fell in love with 1D and all the boys’ solo work, especially Louis. I loved his voice, his songwriting, and his ‘real’ personality (when he allowed it to shine through all the media training). I read through every tumblr I could, you and Daisie provided a wealth of information that can not be ignored. I feel certain that Larry was real and I hope they are still together. I’m not one of those people who never doubted. It would be hard not to second guess things in this fandom with all the gaslighting that goes on. I write all of this to say that I’ve never felt so sad and like there is no hope for change as I do right now. It feels like Louis’ fandom is falling apart. There is so much division, hate, and intolerance of any idea that doesn’t conform to someone’s own. Louis pr strategy honestly baffles me. A divided fandom is so tiring. It seems less like pr and more like intentional sabatoge, which I guess it could be. I just don’t see any way out for him or Harry. I think Harry’s extended break is partly because of this too. I think he was overworked and emotionally drained for many reasons, but closeting most of all is exhausting. If I’m feeling this way as a fan I can’t imagine how they must be feeling. It breaks my heart. Sometimes I hope I am crazy and Larry was never real because the story is just too sad. Don’t even get me started on bbg because it is the shittiest situation ever. I think I need to take a step back from the fandom for a bit. But this brings me to my point. I’m pretty resilient, I can not be the only person feeling this way. It makes me so worried for Louis’ career and for both Louis and Harry’s mental health. I guess I don’t really have an ask. I just wanted to say thank you for all the information you have provided over the years. And, I needed to get this off my chest. If I posted this on twitter I would be roasted and I’m not strong enough for that right now. I meant it when I said I fell in love with their music, so I will continue to support all the boys. I’m hoping there is a master plan that will eventually set them free. But, I just keep coming back to the line

‘Said I had a plan for us Time had came and changed it all We had to disappear 'Cause nothing gets through here’

I will add one more thing. I believe there are more Larries than people think, but we are tired of the gaslighting and the hate, so many of us step back or hide. This is why the industry wins most of the time. 😥

Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I'm sorry it feels so overwhelming right now. I do think taking a step back is probably really healthy for most of us. I've actually never seen the fandom in such shambles.

I don't know what Louis' plan is in terms of his fandom or his future plans. But I have dozens and dozens of sad, confused, and angry messages in my inbox, and that fucking sucks. I really don't see a way forward at the moment. I will say, though, that some of the upset stems from some people's tendency to lean into worst-case scenarios and amplify their own worries by jumping to conclusions. Then there are the shit-stirrers who try to make things worse by sending in fake receipts or theories. It's hard to stay grounded when there's insanity whirling around you.

As for Harry and Louis, I do tend to believe they're still together. I don't think their relationship has been as easy as many of us would like to believe – I don't think it could be, given their ages when they met and the conditions they've had to live with. I do think they're soulmates... soulmates don't always end up together, but I tend to think these two will make it. I certainly hope they do.

Our fandom never does well when the boys aren't active. I think if you want to get your sanity back, now is as good a time as any.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy decides what to do about Mosley, and Lizzie comes home.

Word Count: 6,249

Warnings: Insecurity, a very unhappy marriage, and references to polyamory.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 5: The Thread is Ripping

“Which one is Mosley?”

Lucy and Ada were sitting in the observation booth, overlooking the MP’s benches. Craning her head to peer down at the men, Lucy gestured with her cigarette towards where Mosley sat, his head cocked as he listened to Tommy speak. 

“That one.”

Ada leaned forward, arms resting on the banister, eyes fixing on Mosley with a keen level of scrutiny in them that reminded Lucy and awful lot of how Tommy looked at someone when he was first sizing them up. 

Bringing her cigarette back to her lips, Lucy turned her attention back to Tommy, allowing herself a moment to just enjoy watching him speak. 

“I’m really not sure about going ahead with this meeting, Lucy,” Ada told her as they went to meet Tommy out in the hall after the speakers were done.  

“I know. But Tommy wants to hear what he has to say.”

“As if a man like that could have anything good to say.”

“All the more reason to hear it, then.”

“You can’t possibly be alright with Tommy considering working with him.”

“It’s just drinks, Ada. And he’s not considering anything with Mosley yet.”

Ada’s voice lowered, eyes shifting around to make sure no one was listening. “So what is he doing, then? Because I know my brother, and as bloody infuriating as he can be sometimes, I don’t believe that he actually agrees with any of Mosley’s more recent policies.”

A group of men dressed in fine, pressed suits walked past them. Lucy eyes them warily, waiting until they had passed before speaking. 

“Burying our heads in the sand when it comes to Mosley and the growing movement behind him isn’t going to help anyone. Better to get to know if he and this new party he’s supposedly forming are an actual threat or not.”

“So you can deal with it now?”

Lucy wetted her lips. “Better to kill it while it’s young than when it’s grown formidable and strong.”

She could feel Ada still watching her while she broke their gaze to look around for Tommy.

“Why did he even ask me here?”

Lucy looked back at her, weighed in her mind if it was worth telling her or not, and decided that it was. “Because Mosley scares him.”

Shocked silence met her at that. There was a shift in Ada, as she finally started to understand what they were dealing with. “Does he scare you?”

“Yes.” She finally heard Tommy’s telltale heavy footfalls coming up behind them, turning to find him approaching hastily. 

“Sorry, got cornered by a few people. Had to make small talk. Shall we?” He gestured down the hall. 

“Tommy, you made me your political advisor,” Ada said as they walked. “And as your political advisor, it is my official advice that you don’t meet with Mr. Mosley.”

“Yes, I know.”

They made their way into a dimly lit, crowded lounge, embellished by leather seats and chairs, each circular table adorned with a small red-shaded lamp. MPs and other political figures were gathered at tables or milling about, the lounge with its bar a common place for them to gather to discuss business or other dealings. 

Mosley was already seated at a table when they arrived, a newspaper held up to his face. He lowered it at the sound of their approaching footsteps, face breaking into a beaming smile that did nothing to hide the deadness of his eyes as he stood to greet them and shake Tommy’s hand. 

“And Miss. Winters, of course, wonderful to see you again.”

She forced herself to shake his hand, skin crawling the entire time that their palms made contact. His leering gaze was respitefully pulled quickly away from her as his attention shifted towards Ada as Tommy introduced them. 

She tried to hide how she inched a little closer to Tommy before they sat down.

From an outside perspective, it may have looked like the meeting went smoothly. But as Mosley continued to speak, Lucy felt her sense of unnerving grow.

“You know, I was rather hoping we might have this meeting alone,” Mosley said, eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

“Lucy accompanies me to most of my meetings, Mr. Mosley, and my sister is my political advisor,” Tommy explained. 

Ada spoke up, explaining that she had advised Tommy not to meet with him, and Mosley’s attention turned directly onto her. Lucy was impressed at the way Ada met his dark, empty gaze without so much as blinking. When he brought his hand down with a crash onto the table, shouting in demand that the whiskey they’d ordered only a few short minutes ago be brought out now, his gaze remained fixed pointedly on Ada. A clear telegraphing of his disapproval of her presence. An attempt at intimidation. At frightening her. 

If Ada was at all frightened by the display, she did a marvelous job hiding it. The corner of her lips turned up on one side, and she shot Lucy a look of mild amusement at the childish behavior from across the table. 

Can you believe that shit, Luce? her eyes seemed to say. Lucy managed a smirk back at her, reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes. Mosley’s gaze was turned back fully onto Tommy, but not for one second did Lucy think that he hadn’t taken note of the quiet exchange between her and Ada.

Good. Better for him to know that they thought him ridiculous rather than that they were scared of him. 

He dodged making any direct confirmations that facism was where he was moving towards politically. Instead, he gracefully turned the conversation towards, of all things, Ireland.

Lucy took a considerable gulp from her whiskey, eyes darting towards Tommy. His face remained schooled into an expression that gave away nothing, but she could tell that he was thinking of the same thing that she was:

That voice, on the other end of the telephone line. An Irish accent, explaining how there were men in Belfast who wanted him dead. Men who Michael had been allegedly cutting deals with.  

Landmines, in their own fucking garden. But who was the gardener? Who planted them? It couldn’t be Michael, he had still been on a ship or in Belfast when they were placed. So who was it, then? The men from Belfast, or someone else?

And what the fuck did Mosley know about it, if anything? Was it just a coincidence, that he brought up Ireland now, of all times? Or was it an indication of something else?

Enemies. Enemies in every fucking direction that they turned. Her skin prickled with that feeling of approaching, looming danger. Drawing nearer and nearer with every breath. 

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t relieved when Ada promptly stood, announcing that she was ready to leave. 

Mosley ignored her. “We’re looking for someone to begin a dialogue with certain elements in Belfast with whom we don’t officially have any dealings.” 

Lucy raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help but find it a little funny how confident Mosley was that Tommy would be in any way supportive of his ideologies. And yet here he was, inviting him into his organization without seemingly even the slightest worry that Tommy would be opposed. 

It was often that she forgot that other people did not know Tommy like she did. 

Mosley did not seem dissuaded by Tommy’s gentle refusal of the offer. “It would involve a promotion.”

“Birmingham is my concern,” Tommy rose from his seat. Lucy mirrored him. “Ireland bores me.”

She and Ada couldn’t help but share a tiny smile at that. Tommy thanked Mosley for the whiskey, and led the way towards the exit. When she looked back while trailing behind him, it was to see Mosley watching them leave, a smirk pulling at one side of his lips. She turned her head sharply to face forward once more. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Ada asked once they were in an almost deserted hallway, a good distance away from Mosley and the lounge. 

“Ireland. It’s been Ireland’s day all fucking day long,” was all Tommy said in response, sidestepping her attempts to garner any more information on that subject. Instead, he started instructing her to go home and call her contacts from her time in Boston to ask about Michael. They drew aside, Tommy pacing back and forth, sounding off orders. Lucy watched him worriedly, sensing that something inside him was moments away from unraveling. 

“What are you talking about?” Ada asked, as he continued to ramble on about Mosley. 

“I’m talking about an empty chair, Ada,” Tommy’s voice was barely above a whisper. “My chair. My throne. People think that I’m gonna fall. They start behaving in a different way around you.”

“Who thinks that?” Ada had gone still.  

“They start to circle,” Tommy continued, as if he hadn’t even heard her. She shared an alarmed look with Lucy. “Who’s gonna take the throne, eh?”

“Tommy…” Lucy tried, reaching out a hand to him, hoping to pull him back from whatever dark precipice he was teetering on.  

“Linda, she wants some for Arthur…Aberama Gold…people in the north…Michael…” He seemed to only just then realize that words which he had not intended to speak had been pouring from his lips. His jaw hinged shut and he spun away, his back to her and Ada, clearing his throat while raising his cigarette to his lips. When he turned back to them, his expression was collected once more, the mask that had momentarily slipped once again firmly in place. He reissued his order for Ada to go home and make some calls. “I need to get back to Birmingham. Lucy.”  

“Yeah.” She made to follow him, as he was already moving with quick steps down the hall. 

“Lucy–” Ada grabbed at her arm, alarm clear in her voice. Lucy turned half back towards her, taking in the worried look in her wide eyes and reached out to squeeze her arm. 

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

Ada’s lips pressed together, and while the concern still shimmered in her eyes, her shoulders relaxed a little. With a nod, she let Lucy go. 

She had to jog a little to catch up with Tommy, his steps more hurried than usual. Stupid short legs, she mentally cursed, shooting them a glower before quickening her pace. 

“Tommy…” she tried to get his attention, but he didn’t acknowledge her, and she decided not to try again until after they were out of the office and in the car, pulling out onto the street to start the trek back to Birmingham. 

“No one is taking anything,” she said finally, definitively. “I won’t let them.” When he didn’t respond, she looked over at him. Distress and paranoia was still etched onto his face, his eyes shifting around as if searching for unseen enemies. “Tommy?”   

“They’re all coming at us, Lucy.”

“Michael is a problem,” she acknowledged. “And so are the people up north. But I think Linda really just wants to get away. She’d sooner take Arthur back into the country than try to have him take your position. And you know that Arthur would never agree to usurping you. Aberama’s loyalty is guaranteed so long as we continue to support Bonnie’s boxing career.” She reached out to smooth a hand over the back of his head. “We’re alright. It’s mostly Michael and Mosley that we need to worry about now.” She watched his throat work as he swallowed, and she dropped her hand to instead rest on his forearm. “And, if any of the others do try to betray us, I’ll just kill them.”

He let out a small snort, looking over at her fondly. She was turned almost entirely with her side pressed against the leather seats of the car, body jostling slightly as they bounced along the uneven cobblestones. She cupped his cheek momentarily, a reassuring smile tugging at her lips. Some of the frantic paranoia had gone out in his eyes, and she relaxed at the knowledge that she’d managed to calm him down at least somewhat. He leaned into her touch, quickly turning his head to press a kiss to the center of her palm before returning his eyes back to the road. 

“What would I do without you, eh?” he asked. She pressed herself to his side, the physical contact doing wonders to calm both of them. And there in the safety of the shell of the car, she didn’t need to worry about anyone spotting them. Her head came to nestle against his shoulder, the material of his coat soft against her cheek. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking in regards to Mosley,” she requested. Tommy sighed, eyes remaining on the road while she rubbed a hand up and down his chest. 

“I don’t think he’s going to stop trying to get me to join his new party.”

“You’re not a fascist.” 

“Some in the family would say otherwise.” 

“Then they’d be wrong.” 

Tommy gave her a little peck on the side of the head for that. “I think he may be one of the worst people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And we’ve known some bad ones over the years.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he trailed the other through her hair. Being careful, as he always was, not to pull on any of the strands. “I have an idea. But it’s dangerous. And I’ll need to talk to Younger…”

She gave him a knowing look. “You want to do to Mosley and the fascists what you’ve been doing to Jessie and the communists.” 

“Yes.” 

“You think that you can stomach pretending to be one of them?”

“If it means stopping him.”

She nodded. Mosley was a monster creeping in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Someone had to stop him. Might as well be them. They were probably some of the best equipped for the job, anyway.  

“You would be alright with it?” Tommy asked, and she smiled a little to herself at how he always sought out her opinion on things. 

“I’m happy with anything that wipes that smug look off his face.” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to press a kiss to his neck. “You have my support. Always.”

“Thanks, love.” His hand dropped from stroking through her hair to wrap around her shoulders. “Have you managed to dig up anything on this Captain Swing yet?”

“Not much. Her real name is Laura McKee. She really is a commander in the IRA. That’s all our friends in Belfast have been able to find out, so far. I told them to keep digging.”

“Right.” 

They rode in silence for a stretch of time. 

“Are Lizzie and Ruby still coming home today?” she asked.

“Far as I know.”

“Maybe…she’ll be better now that she’s had some time away and gotten things out of her system.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” He sounded about as optimistic as someone who had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Lucy gave him a gentle pat in sympathy. His thumb rubbed back and forth against her upper arm where it was clasped. “Thank you for helping me with everything.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and together they both turned their eyes to the dark road sprawling out in front of them.  

∗ ∗ ∗

When they arrived home, Tommy took all but three steps into the house, and was promptly collided into by Ruby when she came dashing into the entryway to throw herself into his arms. 

“Daddy!”

“Hello, my girl,” he hoisted her up so that her weight rested against one of his hips. Just the feel of her in his arms was enough to have the ache of missing her lessening. “How are you, eh? Did you have a good time at Uncle Arthur’s?”

She nodded, long dark hair swinging with her movements. “I baked brownies with Auntie Linda.”

“You did?”

“Hey kiddo,” Lucy stretched up on her toes to place a kiss to Ruby’s cheek after handing her coat off to Frances.

“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby beamed at her, and Tommy felt his heart swell. There was a time, he knew, that Lucy had been afraid that Ruby would hate her, given her complicated relationship with her mother. He couldn’t have been more grateful that wasn’t the case. He was pretty sure his sweet girl was incapable of hating anyone. 

Amazing; how something containing such kindness and purity could ever have come from him.      

The click of heels on the floor was his only warning to another figure approaching before Lizzie rounded the corner. Her head was held high, dress swishing around her ankles, hair styled meticulously in dark waves around her face. She did not smile when she saw him. 

Quiet stretched on between them all. Finally, he forced himself to awkwardly clear his throat. 

“Lizzie.”

“Tommy.” She said his name as if speaking the word was like swiping a razor along the inside of her throat. 

Swallowing, he set Ruby down on the floor, bending so that he was at her level. “Ruby, why don’t you take Lucy to the kitchens and show her what Aunt Linda taught you, eh?”

“Yeah! Okay!” She tottered two steps forward to latch eagerly onto Lucy’s hand and begin pulling her along. Lucy shot him a puzzled look, eyes darting between him and Lizzie. Clearly wondering what he intended on saying in her absence. 

Don’t worry, he pushed the thought to her gently. Something clicked behind Lucy’s eyes as she realized what this was all about. She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look.

Don’t be too hard on her.

I won’t. Promise.

She looked only half convinced, but let Ruby tug her away without complaint. Tommy waited until he could no longer hear the clatter of Ruby’s shoes on the floorboards before speaking.  

“Where’s Charlie?”

“In the library, finishing up his homework.” Lizzie took a step towards him. “Tommy, listen–”

“He overheard.”

She froze. “What?”

“He overheard what you said about Lucy to Polly and Linda. And then he got mad, and repeated it to her.”

Her lips parted, eyes widening. A look of mild horror settled on her features, and the sight of it brought Tommy an odd sense of relief. That was confirmation that she hadn’t been purposefully whispering poison into his children’s ears, then.

“Oh…” Lizzie said, throat flexing as she swallowed. “What did he say?” 

“He said that she’s just my whore. That everybody hates her.” The words tasted metallic as he released them, just hearing them again making him momentarily furious with her. But he breathed in deep through his nose and forced himself to remain calm. 

Lizzie looked away, down at the floor. “Shit. I’m sorry, Tommy. He was never meant to hear that.” She shifted from foot to foot, not really meeting his eyes. “At least it wasn’t that bad…”

“Not that bad!? He made Lucy cry!” 

Lizzie said nothing to that, still staring down at her shoes. Tommy shook his head, fishing into his pocket for his cigarettes. 

Wait.

He’d just swiped one across his lips when her words clicked, his face snapping up to bore his eyes into her.

“Fucking hell, what else have you said about her for that to be considered not bad!?”

Lizzie still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Are things between her and Charlie…?” she trailed off, pointedly not answering his question. 

Tommy studied her a moment more, lighter clicking to raise the flame to his cigarette before answering. “They’re fine. I managed to smooth things over. He was just having a tantrum; he didn’t really mean any of it. And he’s apologized.”

“Good.” The plain relief on Lizzie’s face had him considering her. For all her faults, she had always been understanding and respectful of just how much his children meant to Lucy. 

“You should never have said those things about her.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “You need to apologize too.”

Her lips pressed together. “I’m sorry that he overheard that, Tommy, really. But…”

“But what?”

“But I’m not sorry for what I said.”  

His fingers tightened around his cigarette. “Why not?”

Her jaw clenched, chin raising. “Because it’s the truth, that’s why. Everybody despises her, Tommy. You don’t hear how they talk about her when they know you’re not listening. She’s nothing but your whore. Your mistress–”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that–”

“I will talk about her anyway that I fucking please. I’ll do it out of the children’s earshot, but I won’t swallow my opinions just because it might hurt her feelings.”

“She hasn’t even done anything to you!”

“She’s fucking my husband!” Lizzie burst out. “She’s fucking my husband when she knows I’m not alright with it. You may have decided that she can do no wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has chosen, over and over, for years, to hurt me by staying with you. I think that I ought to be allowed to be upset about that, and to say whatever I like about it when in the company of my friends and family.” 

“Lizzie–”

“I have let you two carry on as you have! I’ve let you do that, Tommy! Even though it kills me. I have…tried to be at least cordial with her. I know that I don’t always succeed, and I am sorry for that. And I am sorry that Charlie overheard. I’d never intend to turn the kids against her. But I have feelings, Tommy! I have to get them out somewhere. Better with Polly and Linda, rather than to her face.”

“Doesn’t seem to fucking work though, does it? All the hateful things that you say always get back to her eventually.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Tommy.” He saw some of the ice-cold contempt that had been blazing in her eyes when she left for Arthur’s days ago ignite once more. “I don’t want to hear it,” she started for the door to one of the sitting rooms. 

“Oi! We aren’t fucking finished here,” he moved to follow her, and she rounded on him.

“What more do you want!? I said I’ll fucking apologize! Now leave me the fuck alone! It’s the least you could do.”

“Why the hell did you come back then if you didn’t want to be around us, eh!?”

“Because your daughter kept asking for you,” she sneered furiously. “And I knew that sooner or later, you’d drag us back here anyway to have her close.” She took a step nearer to him. In her heels, she was taller than him, if only by an inch or two. “I didn’t come back because I’m no longer upset. Or because I forgive either of you. I don’t. I never will.”

“Forgive us for what, Lizzie!? For sticking to the agreement that the three of us made which you then decided to change your mind about?”

Her throat convulsed, and for just a moment, her eyes seemed to glimmer tearily. “We could have had an actual chance at being happy,” her voice suddenly dropped to a desolate whisper. “If she wasn’t here.”

He wanted to shake her. How could she not understand? He couldn’t be happy without Lucy.

“If you really believe that, then you don’t know me at all.”

Her bottom lip trembled, cracks beginning to form in the hatred molding to her face, giving way to heartbreak. 

Before he could say anything more, she whirled on her heel and stormed out the door.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie found Lucy sitting alone, head propped up on one hand while she considered the chess board before her. She was playing herself, Lizzie could see. Moving both the black and white pieces around the board. Trouble was curled in her lap, asleep. 

She hadn’t really spoken to Lucy since she and Tommy had arrived home. The kids had monopolized their attention for most of the evening; Ruby in particular was eager to play with Lucy and her father after going so long without seeing them. Lizzie had been fine with leaving them to it. In all honesty, she could use the break after having to manage Ruby mostly on her own. And after their conversation about what Charlie said to Lucy, she would rather have not been in the same room as Tommy anyway. 

He’d retreated into his office to take care of some business after they’d put the kids to bed, leaving her and Lucy to their own devices. 

Taking a tentative step forward, she forced herself to open her mouth. 

“Lucy?”

The redhead looked up, and Lizzie could see the wariness that immediately entered her face upon catching sight of her. It was a look that she saw crossing Lucy’s face more and more whenever they interacted. 

Lizzie supposed she couldn’t entirely blame her for that. 

She gestured to the chess board. “Do you…want someone to play with?”

Lucy blinked, that wariness still not quite leaving her face. “Sure.” She started to move the pieces back into their starting positions on the board while Lizzie took the seat across from her, examining the little carved pieces of black and white wood. Lucy had whittled and painted each one herself, along with the board. 

Once all the pieces were set up, she took hold of one of the white pawns on her side of the board, sliding it forward. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally forced herself to say the words when they were about halfway through the game. Most of her white pieces had been swept from the board by Lucy’s black ones. Not surprising. She had never taken to chess all that well. Usually, Lucy went easy on her. 

She felt Lucy’s large green eyes jerk upwards to stare into her face. 

“For what Charlie said. I didn’t…he wasn’t supposed to overhear that.”

Lucy looked back down at the board. She had one arm crossed over her chest, hand folded against the opposite bicep. Like she was holding an imaginary shield between them. “I figured.”

Lizzie nodded. At least Lucy’s opinion of her hadn’t sunk that low, then. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy kept her eyes focused on the pieces, moving her queen to take one of Lizzie’s bishops. “It worked itself all out. I’m sorry that Tommy got on your case about it.”

“He’s just protecting you.” She hated herself for being unable to wholly mask the bitterness that underlaid her words. A guilty look crossed Lucy’s face, her head dipping slightly and her shoulders drawing in as if bracing for a slap. On her next move, she pulled one of her bishops back, leaving her rook open for Lizzie to take with one of her knights. 

She wondered if Lucy had let her take the piece on purpose. 

“How were things at Arthur’s?” Lucy asked, clearly eager to change the subject. Lizzie hesitated. There were a lot of things that Linda had told her in confidence that she was not eager to share. Everyone knew that anything that was told to Lucy would make its way back to Tommy.

“Things aren’t good between him and Linda,” she finally settled on saying. 

“What’s she upset about now?”

Lizzie worried at her bottom lip. “Everything, really. Truth be told, going there wasn’t much of an improvement from being here.” She should have gone to Polly or Ada’s instead. But she had been afraid that both of them would try to talk her out of any ruminations she had about divorce. Linda, at the very least, had understood her feelings on that front. “Only difference was that I wasn’t the one doing the arguing.”

“Mm.” Lucy made a sound of sympathy, taking one of Lizzie’s knights with her remaining rook. “I am glad that you’re home.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

Lucy cocked her head. “I’m not. Look…I didn’t miss any of the fighting, but…the house feels empty without you and Ruby in it.” 

“We may not be here for very long.”

That wariness that had mostly melted away from Lucy’s face while they played returned. “What do you mean?”

Lizzie plucked up the little white envelope that she had set down in her lap while they played. She turned it over twice in her hands, examining her own looping handwriting of Tommy’s name scrawled in black ink on the back of it. Holding it between two fingers, like she would a cigarette, she held it out to Lucy. 

“Will you give him this for me?”

Lucy eyed the envelope as if Lizzie had just held out a hand grenade to her. She supposed in a way, that she had. She took it with her pale, lightly freckled fingers, handling the envelope gingerly while she examined it. 

“What…?”

“Linda and I talked a lot. We thought that writing down everything that we need to say would be better than actually trying to say it. She’s written one to Arthur. Well…technically I think that she’s written two. She hadn’t decided which one to give to him yet when I left.”

Lucy turned the envelope over in her hands, brows furrowed. “Lizzie, what’s in this letter?”

 She picked up one of the black rooks she’d taken, rolling it between her fingers. “Just make sure that he gets it, yeah?”

She could feel Lucy’s deep green gaze on her, could imagine the way that the irises shifted a little from side to side as they tried to decipher what was going on inside her head. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lucy nodded, slipping the envelope into the inner pocket of her suit jacket. Lizzie brought her bishop sliding across the board.

“Check.”

“I can send him to you tonight, if you’d like,” Lucy offered. Lizzie could only bring herself to look at her face for a fraction of a second before she had to look back at the chess pieces again. Anything to not have to stare at that sad, guilty look emblazoned across Lucy’s face. She shook her head. 

“I doubt he’s going to want to spend the night with me after he reads what’s in that letter.” 

Truth be told, a lot of the enjoyment from sleeping with Tommy had long since faded away. Physically, it was still good–the man was nothing if not very talented at what he did–but it was hard to ever fully enjoy herself when she knew that he would rather be with her. Lizzie could feel it, the disconnect between them a living, ever present thing in the spaces between them. Even when he was with her, in the most intimate of positions two people could be in, he wasn’t really with her. He always left all the important parts of himself in the other room, with Lucy.  

If only the little red head in front of her wasn’t around…

She shook the thought away. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not really. For all her faults, at least Lucy tried. Certainly more than Tommy ever did. It was her, who more often than not kept Lizzie company on nights like this one. When Tommy was too enthralled with his work to be bothered to pay her any mind.

In a way, it only made Lizzie more angry with her. It would have been so much easier to hate her if she had been cruel and unapologetic in her actions. 

For a time, at the beginning of her marriage to Tommy, Lizzie had hated her. She had hated her so bloody much, she nearly choked on it. But over time the feeling had…not quite faded, but scabbed over. It was hard to maintain hatred like that for so long. Especially when the person it was directed towards went out of her way to be so bloody nice and accommodating so much of the time. 

Sometimes it still returned, the scab ripping off for fresh blood and agony to flow forth. And with it, the poison inside her leaked out, boiling over to spill from her lips in the form of vile curses and words. Things she may have meant in the moment, but not later. Not after she’d gotten a leash back on the jealousy that raged in her heart. 

In those moments when the venom flowed forth, the looks that Lucy would give her, like that of a kicked animal, only served to make Lizzie hate her even more. Because how dare she make her feel guilty for hurting her? When she was the one who had hurt Lizzie first by stealing her husband. 

But can you really steal what was already yours? What was given freely? How could she say that Lucy had stolen Tommy from her, when he had never even been hers to begin with?

Her fury was directed at Tommy too, often even more so. She suspected that was by design, on his part. His attempt to shield Lucy from her wrath and the hurtful jabs that came with it as much as possible. Yet another expression of his oh so precious, undying love for her.  

Once she’d gotten it all out, the anger and resentment would scab over once more. It was in those moments that she grew as close as she could to accepting the arrangement between herself, her husband, and his lover. She and Lucy could even be considered something close to being friends.

And then they’d go through the entire cycle again. 

She wondered if the scab would ever fully heal. She hoped that someday it would.

What she would give, to be at peace with her life and her choices. To be content.

But she knew that a part of her, no matter how small, would always resent Lucy.   

“Do you mind if I also read it?” Lucy asked, drawing her from her thoughts. She’d moved her knight to counter Lizzie’s check on the chessboard. 

“That’s fine.” She knew it would likely make no difference what she wanted; Tommy would tell her its contents either way.

She moved one of her pawns a space up. 

Lucy moved her knight again. “Check.”

Lizzie moved her king, even though she could already see where the game was heading.

“You’re really thinking of leaving for good?”

She kept her gaze fixed on the chessboard, not wanting to meet Lucy’s analyzing eyes. “It depends on what he says about what’s in my letter.” 

There was a long pause, and she found herself wishing that Lucy would just move her queen and put an end to the whole bloody game.

“Lizzie, maybe if you just give things some time…it’s a madhouse right now, with the crash and Michael coming back…”

“I’ve been giving things time since the fucking wedding, Lucy. And he still hasn’t–” she bit down hard on the words before she could say them. He still hasn’t changed.

Lucy stared at her sadly. “You’re still hoping that someday he’ll choose you over me?”

“Just play your bloody turn, Lucy.”

She hesitated, and then slid the black queen across the board. “Checkmate.” Her hand retracted, going to fidget with the other in her lap. Trouble roused at the cease in being pet, raising her head with a questioning meow. “Do you want to play again?”

“No,” Lizzie rose from her chair. Divorce or not, she doubted she would have to wait long to be free of them. She had watched these past few years as Tommy slipped further and further out onto a precipice, his mind almost fully lost to his own ambition. And when he finally went over the edge, he’d take Lucy right along with him. She truly believed that he wouldn’t be alive within two years’ time.  

It startled her, a little, how the thought brought with it no sorrow or grief, but simply a feeling of deep, potent relief.  

“I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

That infuriating guilt was shining in Lucy’s eyes again. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at the sight of it. Despite everything, she had meant what she said to Tommy about trying to be cordial with Lucy. 

 “Lizzie, you know that if you ever wanted to, the three of us could…” Lucy trailed off, biting her lip. Not needing to finish the sentence for Lizzie to know what she was referring to. 

They’d made it clear that the offer was always open, if she wanted to share a bed with both of them again, rather than just Tommy. And she understood that, in a somewhat stunted way, Lucy’s offer was an attempt at comfort; at maybe even consolidation, for the situation that they’d found themselves in.  

“Not tonight, Lucy.”

She saw a flicker of disappointment cross Lucy’s features, but she merely nodded, clearly having expected the answer, not pushing it any further. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

She just got to the door before Lucy called for her again. “Lizzie.” She was still sitting at the chessboard, one hand trailing her fingertips across the golden rings she was wearing on the other hand she had resting on Trouble’s patchy black and orange fur. Her red-painted bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “Is there anything that I can do?”

Yes: Leave. And never come back. “No.” 

“But maybe–”

“Lucy,” she cut her off before she could say anymore, gesturing to the board. “Even when you go easy on me, it’s you who always wins.”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[oddyseye]

super interesting to read your takes on Epic! was wondering if you ever read Madeline Miller's Circe and if yes, what were your thoughts on it?

Yes, I’ve read Circe. I actually read a PDF online, but I recently found the actual book! Not that it was a smart decision to waste money on a book I’ve already read, but eh...What’s a girl to do... Anyway, it’s fine, I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing. Y’know, the whole “I took a Greek myth and turned it into a sanitized Pinterest board” vibe. Madeline Miller’s writing? Solidly meh. It’s not the revelatory prose the internet insists it is, but sure, it’s readable. Circe is, at its core, an interpretation of myth tailored for modern consumption. It’s accessible, marketable, and easy for readers to feel clever about loving. That’s fine! But it’s not the tour de force some fans seem to think it is.

Miller’s prose is polished, sure, but it’s also overly workshopped. It’s the kind of writing you’d expect from someone who graduated at the top of her MFA class, not from someone channeling the raw energy of myth. Myths are messy, strange, and wild. Miller’s style, in comparison, feels sanitized and controlled, like she’s so afraid of losing her grip on the narrative that she cuts away anything that might add texture or complexity. It’s the literary equivalent of a curated Instagram feed: nice to look at, but lacking depth.

Then there’s Circe herself. Miller does try to give her more agency, and I respect the effort to center her voice in a way the original myths didn’t. But the execution? Kind of frustrating. Circe starts out promising — turning men into pigs is such an iconic power move, and her fury feels righteous. But just when we think she’s found her strength, here comes Odysseus, and suddenly the narrative shifts. She’s no longer the fearsome witch-goddess carving out her own place in the world; she’s softened by the love of a clever man. And let’s be real: Odysseus isn’t just any man. He’s a walking bundle of red flags, even by Greek myth standards. He lies, manipulates, and cheats, and yet somehow, we’re supposed to believe that after Circe has been burned by men over and over again, this is the guy she opens her heart to? It’s not just about him, though — it’s what his arrival represents. The story moves from “Circe standing on her own” to “Circe defined by her relationship with Odysseus.” And for a book marketed as a feminist retelling, that feels like such a cop-out. And then...Telemachus.

I get why Miller paired him with Circe. Symbolically, it works. He’s everything Odysseus never was. Their relationship is clearly meant to be this balm, a quiet resolution after all the stormy chaos of Circe’s life. And I’ll admit, it’s sweet in a way that sneaks up on you. But does it feel entirely earned? Not really. The thing is, their bond develops too neatly, almost like it’s checking off a box labeled “Happy Ending.” Telemachus shows up, all sweet and thoughtful, and we’re supposed to believe Circe would just open her heart to him after everything she’s been through? I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve love, she absolutely does, but where’s the tension? Where’s the hesitation? This is a woman who’s spent centuries in isolation, surviving betrayal after betrayal. Shouldn’t there be a little more conflict in letting someone like Telemachus in, no matter how gentle he is?

That said, I can’t deny the appeal. Telemachus stepping away from his father’s shadow and finding peace with Circe does have a certain poetic justice to it. And the moments between them are undeniably tender — there’s a quiet power in the idea of two scarred people finding solace in each other. It’s just that, for all its cuteness, their relationship feels more like an epilogue than an integral part of the story. It’s nice, and it is sweet, but it doesn’t quite feel alive. Telegonus is...a plot device. Literally I do not care half as much as I should for him, so I honestly have no idea what to even say for him here. He could and should have been better. Sure, Telegonus is the catalyst for some major events, but he himself feels oddly passive in his own story. He’s the one who accidentally kills Odysseus, yet the emotional fallout of that act barely scratches the surface. Instead, the focus shifts back to Circe and Telemachus, leaving Telegonus as this loose end that never quite gets tied up. Not normally, at least. He’s there to serve Circe’s arc, not to have one of his own. And for someone with his parentage, that feels like a waste.

What really irks me, though, is the missed opportunity. The premise of Circe is so good: a witch cast out by the gods, building her life from scratch and dealing with the fallout of her choices. There’s so much room for nuance and exploration there — of power, isolation, anger, and what it means to be both divine and deeply human. But Miller doesn’t lean into those themes as much as she could. Instead, the story often feels like it’s ticking off a checklist of tropes to make Circe “relatable” to a modern audience.

To be clear, I’m not saying Miller needed to write a hyper-accurate mythological treatise. Adaptations are allowed to take liberties! But they should still engage with the source material in a way that feels authentic, not just convenient. Instead of grappling with Circe’s contradictions — her cruelty and compassion, her power and her vulnerability — Miller smooths over those edges to make her more palatable. Circe is fine. It’s a decent book if you’re looking for a cozy entry point into Greek myths, but it’s not the radical, feminist reclamation it’s often made out to be. It takes some of the most interesting elements of Circe’s story and waters them down into something more comfortable, more easily consumed. Which, hey, works for a lot of people! But if you’re looking for a Circe who’s truly complicated, messy, and unyielding, you’ll have to go back to the myths, or write your own. It’s cute, it’s tidy, and it’s easy to love, but myths, in my opinion, should be anything but. Working on my own little retelling of the Odyssey, and I just hope it will not end up like a mess.

[ravennaortiz]

Always Here

Summary: Juice works through his grieve and regret at never telling you his true feelings.

Juice stared at himself in the mirror. His usual shirt and jeans exchanged for a suit and tie. “Can’t believe you got me in this” he muttered as he moved his arms trying to get used to the confining fabric. “Wish you could be here to see it. I know you’d be snapping photos and shit” he continued as a lump formed in his throat. “It’s not fair” he choked out as the grief hit him again.

“Easy laddie” soothed Chibs as he made his way into the bathroom followed by Tig and Half-Sack. “Easy” continued Chibs as he held Juice closed.

“It should have been you” sobbed Juice angrily as his eyes landed on Half-Sack who shrunk back.

“It wasn’t his fault. She died trying to give them both a chance” stated Chibs as he patted Juices back. “She wouldn’t want you harboring this anger towards him”.

Juice barely nodded. He knew that was true. If you were here right now you would be dragging him out by his ear to apologize. “She survived being blown up in Iraq only to be gunned down in a damn small town. I should have been with them. If I was maybe she” started Juice before Tig cut him off.

“She would still be in the casket in Chapel man. She was always going to sacrifice herself. Only thing that would have been different is you would be just as cold and in a casket next to her” stated Tig firmly as he clasped Juices shoulder. “While we all can understands the grief and pain of losing someone. None of us will understand the loss of losing her like you and Half have. I know it’s hard to think of this but he’s just as lost and torn up as you. Remember he had to sit with her as she cried, came to terms with dying and took  her last breath. That he has to replay that though his mind day and night. She will always be here” continued Tig as he patted Juices chest and head before leaving the bathroom.

Awhile later Juice made his way out to the main area of the clubhouse. Jeez he thought as he looked at the crowd that was inside and looked to be out the door. A mix of bikers, soldiers and random civilians milled about as they wait for their turn to say goodbye. Tears started again as he thought about how many lives you had changed in the short time you had been on this earth.

“Hey baby” murmured Gemma as she pulled Juice in for a hug. “It’s okay” She soothed as she patted his back. “Why don’t you head into chapel with Half? I told him you two take as long as you want alone. The two of you deserve to say goodbye in private and without everyone else being present. We can all wait. She would want to be with her boys one last time”

Juice nodded as he let her move him towards the door. Taking a deep breath he opened it and stepped in. Keeping his eyes off the casket, not ready to see you so still again.

“I can lea-“ started Half-Sack as he turned tears spilling down his cheeks as he finished fixing your dog tags.

“Stay. I want you to and she would want that” stated Juice as he moved to stand across from him on the opposite side of your casket.

Half nodded as he wiped at his eyes. Before extending his arm out with a chain. “She would want you to have this” he stated as Juice looked at the dog tag that dangled from his hand. “It’s her extra I dug around our stuff when I was looking for mine to put on hers.

“Thanks” gulped Juice as he took the necklace and traced your engraved name before putting it over his head.

The two men fell into a comfortable silence. Each with their own thoughts as they said their goodbyes.

“I’m glad you were her battle buddy when she was over in Iraq. She lucked out with you. Thanks for watching over her when I couldn’t.” stated Juice as he glanced up to look at Half-Sack. "I took my anger on never telling her how I feel out on you. It wasn't your fault I didn't have the balls to tell her I loved her more than a friend. That I wanted her to be mine and all that sappy romantic stuff she would have dragged me for. I lost out on that with her and that's my cross to bear. Not yours"

“Pretty sure she watched over me.” Chuckled Half-Sack lightly as he met his friends’ eyes. “She loved you too. Just so you know. Always talked about you and shit. I’m sorry the two of you never got to be together like that. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her this time” continued Half-Sack as tears poured down his face as he went from the time you were both blown up to the time the bullets only pierced your flesh.

“You did all you could. Neither of you had any idea the bullet would hit her prosthetic like that and ricochet. She wouldn’t want you blaming yourself” stated Juice as he walked around and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m sorry for being an ass. She will always be here with us.” He stated as he felt a warmth on the back of his neck and a slight weight followed by what he swore was a whispered finally.

[danikamariewrites]

A request for maybe an AU with Liam. And reader and Liam meet at a ball with plenty of fluff and joy and fun! I just want to go to a ball with this man, what can I say?

Prince Charming

prince!Liam Mairi x princess!reader

Notes: Hi! I hope you like the AU that I came up with. I loved the thought of Liam as a prince and more of a lighter tone on the arraigned marriage trope since Liam and reader want to be married. They got lucky and Liam def needs a happy ending after what he’s been through🥲

And Happy Onyx Storm month! I can’t believe we are so close to book 3, so it’s only appropriate we kick off the month with a FW fic.

Warnings: arranged marriage

The clock tower chimes seven as I step down from the carriage. A footman holding out his hand to help me down. As I give him a kind smile my brother rounds the carriage in a huff, giving me a disapproving look.

I give him a smirk, waiting for him to take my arm. “You know I’m supposed to help you down, not some servant.” He chastises, guiding me inside the castle. Keeping smiles on our faces and nodding at other nobles we recognize to hide our sibling spat. “Oh brother, you’re too traditional. I could’ve gotten out myself.”

My brother jokingly tsks at me. He knows it’s a smaller insult I can give about him being to like our parents.

“War is here and we need to make you look like the princess you are, little sister. Remember why we are here.” My brother’s tone a mix between commanding and somber. With Navarre at war my arranged marriage is closer than I’d like.

Navarre and Tyrrendor need to unite as kingdoms. I can’t say I’m happy about this being sooner rather than later. If it were up to me, I’d be flying in my father’s legion. My dragon has been itching to stretch her wings, the promise of going to war making her restless.

Tonight my brother is presenting me to Prince Liam. This will be the first time we’ve seen each other since we were teenagers. I don’t remember much about him. I remember his soft blonde hair and kind smile as we explored his family’s castle when we were children. As we grew older our meetings became more formal and less adventurous. I wish I remembered where all the halls led, or what passage was behind which painting now. I could use the escape.

Though Prince Liam is kind and I’ve never heard a bad thing about him this whole situation is still nerve wracking. Much more nerve wracking than flying into war, something I’m at least prepared for.

My brother and I are guided by knights to the hall just outside the throne room. The Mairi family crest staring at me on the carved wooden doors. I take deep breathes, calming myself.

My brother gently squeezes my hand, giving me a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine. You know Liam, he’s kind.” I nod in agreement. “Besides,” he adds. “I would never let father marry you off to some tyrant.” That gets a laugh out of me. We smile at each other. “I’m thankful you’re here.” I say before we’re announced and the double doors are opened.

The crowd cheers, parted down the center of the room so we can walk straight to the dais. I keep my eyes anywhere but the crowd or royals before me. My brother notices my timidness and pinches my elbow, as if to say look up.

I stand straight and I’m met with the most beautiful, striking blue eyes. I remember a lot about Liam, but those eyes have grown more captivating as he got older. And he’s taller. Holy hell, a lot taller.

His blonde hair looks the same. Still shiny and soft looking. I want to run my fingers through it.

We come to a stop, bowing before the king and queen of Tyrrendor. “King Isaac, Queen Viviane, thank you for the kind welcome. It’s wonderful to be back in your home.” I barely hear my brother’s words. My undivided attention on Liam, and his on me. As my brother continues his little speech it feels like everything in the room has fallen away.

Like it’s just Liam and I. How has it been so long since we last saw each other? Is there such a thing as love at second sight? I blush under his gaze, earning a smirk from the prince. My prince.

Liam steps down from the dias right in front of me. My brother slips his arm from mine, Liam taking my hand, bringing my fingers to his lips, kissing them softly. His eyes never breaking away from mine. “It’s lovely to see you again, y/n.”

“Likewise, Liam.”

King Isaac stands, declaring the festivities begin. Liam lead me to the dance floor while my brother is whisked away to the King’s table.

Liam wordlessly takes my hand, placing his other on my hip. The way he’s looking at me sends a chill down my spine. I can see something twinkle in his eyes. My heart leaps at the hope of love.

As the music starts Liam leads me around the dance floor. All eyes on us as the prince and princess reunite for a dance.

“You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.” Gods, his voice. A sweet, deep melody that makes goosebumps break out along my arms. “Well, it has been a few years.” That earns a small laugh from my prince.

Suddenly becoming self conscious, I am unable to meet his eyes. “Hey,” he murmurs. Taking his hand from my hip to tilt my chin up. “No need to be shy with me, love.” I smile at him like an idiot. Good gods, how do I find war on dragon back easier than talking to my fiancée?

“How are you feeling, about all this?” I ask in a hushed tone, as it not be heard by nosy gossips.

Liam takes a moment to think, making my heart drop to my stomach. “Happy.” My eyes widen slightly at his honestly. “Really?”

“Of course. Y/n, from the moment I met you I was enamored by you. And seeing you again tonight made me realize there is no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. It’ll be an adventure, like we used to have.” I smile at the memory of a younger us.

Liam dips me, pulling me up then spinning me away from him, then back to his chest. Swaying us to the rhythm of the music.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers. “The same.” I say truthfully. “When I saw you tonight I remembered every time we met before. How safe I felt with you. How much I like being with you.” the truth tumbles from my lips before I can stop.

Liam spins me again, pulling me flush against his chest this time. His hand sliding to the small of my back. It felt like it belonged there, forming to the curve of my spine perfectly. Our lips are mere inches from each other now, our breaths mixing. My eyes dart from his lips to his enticing blue ones.

I lean up on my toes as Liam leans down to meet me halfway. As much as I don’t want our first kiss to be public I can’t deny him. The pull to my prince magnetic. When our lips meet my heart pounds against my ribs. Begging to be impossibly closer to his. The kiss was slow and exploratory. Both of us exploring each other’s mouths. Learning slowly what makes the other gasp or moan.

Breaking apart my eyes stay closed, reveling in the moment. They flutter open a moment later to see a flushed Liam. His hands gripping my hips, keeping me close. He leans down, those soft blonde curls tickling the side of my face. “Is the secret passage behind the big painting still your favorite?” I give him a small hum as a yes.

He takes my hand again, quickly pulling me from the ball room to go find the passage. To our next adventure.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hiii! Can I make a request for Charlie? I read your pregnant darling and im curious how it would play out when his s/o is giving birth. I love your fics btw and im a huge fan of your oc's!

Awe, thank you so much, I appreciate the support! And sure thing for the request, I hope you enjoy!

Yandere! Mafia Boss With An S/O Who’s Giving Birth

Technically GN! Reader because pronouns aren’t used but reader is pregnant so…presumed afab reader

Warnings: Reader is giving birth, pregnancy, medical stuff, needles, Charlie is Yandere but doesn’t really do a whole lot of insane stuff in this one, mentions of death and stuff going wrong but nothing bad happens don’t worry

(Also, I mentioned this in the pregnancy post but I’m gonna do it again here; In this scenario, reader is with Charlie willingly and he’s just Yandere for other reasons. I don’t fw the idea of a kidnapped darling being pregnant, that’s a hard limit for me even though I write darker content).

Divider credit goes to @konatasoup

Charlie’s spent the entirety of your pregnancy worrying about the day you’d finally give birth. He was excited of course, he can’t imagine not being overjoyed, but the prospect of anything going wrong absolutely terrifies him. What if there’s a complication with your pregnancy? What if the baby isn’t as healthy as his doctor says they are? What if you get severely hurt during the birthing process? What if you die? What if-

He tries to surpress his worries, he really does, but as the day draws closer, he can’t help but dwell on them. He does his best to distract himself with prepping everything you might need at the hospital and more importantly, sticking by you every second he possibly can, protecting you from any outward threats he can think of. If something’s gonna go wrong, it’s not gonna be because he failed to keep you safe. Whatever is in his control will be dealt with, you can bet on that.

When it comes time for you to give birth, he’s absolutely frantic, and doing a terrible job at hiding it. Sure, he’ll reassure you he’s fine, but his frantic scrambling to get everything in the car and his nearly erratic driving prove otherwise. You’ll have to spend as much time reassuring him as he does reassuring you, because that man is not calming down any time soon.

However… he does make a pitstop to get your favorite food before you enter the hospital. He’s been told that it might be a while before you can eat again and he’s not about to let you go hungry, so whatever you want, he’ll get (despite his nerves). As long as you aren’t in a ton of pain and ok with him getting you food, he’s happy to provide for you.

Once you get to the hospital, he’s borderline harassing any nurse he can find, demanding you be taken in as soon as possible. He only slightly relaxes once you get into the labor room where you’ll be taken care of, but even then, he’s still shaking wildly, asking every single nurse and doctor what they’re doing to you as they’re doing it. You can’t blame the guy though, he has no idea what’s going on, and he loves you too much to play around with you and your child’s health.

He’ll hold your hand throughout all your contractions, no matter how hard you squeeze. He would really prefer you get an epidural because it kills him to see you in any amount of pain, and you better believe that you’re gonna get it as quick as possible if that’s what you want, but if you want to have the baby naturally, he’ll respect the decision, letting you grip him for dear life throughout the pain. He knows contractions are part of the process, but it still freaks him out to see you go through them, even if you and the nurses tell him you’ll be fine.

Once the baby starts really coming out, he’s on the verge of passing out. There’s nurses everywhere, you’re clearly in pain as you push, people are talking, machines are beeping, there’s a chemical smell overpowering his senses, you’re squeezing his hand for dear life-

Aaaaandddd there he goes.

He passes out right next to you, but he comes back after a second or two, groggy but alert. He might pass out again later, but for now, he focuses all his attention on you, reassuring you that you’re doing so well, and that he can’t wait to meet your child. He’s extremely lightheaded the entire time you’re pushing your kid out, but he does his best to stay focused, too anxious to purposefully allow himself to slip away.

Then he hears your kid crying, and he’s sees a fleshy blob get carried away to be cleaned off, and the biggest rush of relief hits him so hard he starts letting out a couple tears of his own. His child’s here, they’re here and you’re both fine. Nothing went wrong, everything’s ok, and he’s a father now, a real father. He has a kid!

While the doctor’s are making sure your baby is all right, Charlie focuses all his attention on you. You’re exhausted, as expected, but you find enough energy to smile up at Charlie, and he can’t help but smile back. He squeezes your hand reassuringly and pours out soft praises, reminding you how much he loves and you and how excited he is to be a dad.

Charlie spends the rest of the hospital visit absolutely giddy, almost vibrating with his excitement and joy. He watches you hold your kid with the biggest grin on his face, holding out his finger for the baby to grab onto as the two of you coo over them. He can’t keep his eyes away from you two, his gaze landing between your happy face and his baby’s face, trying to soak in every detail, until it’s permanently burned into his memory.

And then you pass the baby to him, saying he should get a turn to hold your kid, and he just melts. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he cradles the tiny human he helped create, absolutely petrified at the prospect of dropping them but beyond jubilant that he finally gets to hold the kid he’s been waiting to meet for so long. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let them go, he’s only known them for a little bit, but he already loves them more than anything in the world (other than you).

Charlie doesn’t really know what the future holds, especially considering his job. But he makes a vow right then and there that no matter what happened, he’s gonna keep his kid as safe and happy as possible, even if that means shielding them from his career as much as possible.

He looks over to you, baby in arm, and smiles. He’ll keep his family safe. He swears it on his life.

I hope you enjoyed!

[bellatrixnightshade]

@multifandom-carnage 

Hi! This was originally for the gift exchange and while it isn't really Christmas anymore, I still wanted to give something.

This is incomplete and very much unedited. So I believe you may be the only person or one of the only people to ever see a whole lot of writing at my rawest. Even my experimental chapters were edited as usual. All the parts had a traditional holiday song in it that matched the theme or the vibe.

Secret Santa SGE Crackfic (Imcomplete)

Winter Wonderland–

Secret Santa shopping

Agatha sighed in annoyance as she walked inside the mall. She never should have participated. She wouldn’t have, if Tedros didn’t convince her. All she wanted was a peaceful holiday season spent with family. A Christmas with buttery turkey, hot chocolate, and sugary cookies, with nobody else to disturb her. 

But now, after sticking her hand in that stupid black hat, she was stuck having to find a gift for an arrogant, entitled, and spoiled man that acted more like a child at times. And with being married to Tedros, that was saying a lot.

She scanned the photocopied list of everyone’s top five interests, and to her dismay, the man she had to play Santa Claus to was one of the vaguest there was. 

Your Choice

Your Choice

Whatever you want

I don’t care

Whatever you have

Sophie’s list was cluttered with way more than five; Rufius’ simple but clear enough. Hester and Anadil openly declared they wouldn’t participate, and now Agatha saw it was with good reason. 

“I’m not the only one,” Agatha grumbled under her breath as she saw a completely despondent acquaintance of hers exit a store empty-handed.

Midas had her draw’s brother for himself. Unfortunately, Midas hated said brother and may or may not be a teensy bit resentful of Agatha’s draw. He and another one of her draw’s friends, or acquaintances, or frenemies– whatever he considered them as– were about to perform for him. Agatha had a feeling it was more on the teasing side than a genuine act of gift-giving. 

Agatha stepped aside from the crowds as she picked up her phone. It was Sophie calling, as usual.

“Hello?” Agatha snapped. “You know I’m pressed for time, trying to find something for that horrible man! Is this anything urgent?”

“Our party is tomorrow, Aggie, and Hort didn’t bring me the correct decorations! So, while you’re out, would you mind buying me some wreaths that have a better sense of festivity in them? Red is our dominant color, so some touches of berries would be lovely.”

“I am the last person to ask about this, Sophie, and you know it,” Agatha argued. “Can’t you find anyone else? Maybe Dot is willing to help, considering she and Rufius are doing so much already, aesthetically.”

“She’s making things like brownies, Agatha. Decorating cakes and a home are not the same things or skills. “

“Well, I can’t help you, because I’ll only end up getting something you don’t like. Besides, you have done much already, I don’t think the whole party will fall apart just because Hort made a couple of shopping mistakes. I’ve seen it and it looks perfect to me.”

“And this James man keeps playing that song on repeat!” Sophie whined, causing Agatha to flinch. “Not to mention, Aric will be there and Hester isn’t so happy about that, Japeth will infect the party with his presence, and Rhian and his sourpuss brother will attend as well. And I have Teddy as my draw for Secret Santa!”

“You aren’t the only one who has an unfortunate choice,” Agatha muttered. “What I can do is help out by buying some eggnog and some form of alcohol to go with that. For the game. By the way, you should remind people to either bring a sober driver with them to take them home or go in an Uber.”

“Pfft. I don’t think anyone will become intoxicated during the holidays! Let’s save that for a late night party at the club. Rhian– the father, not the son– says vodka should be there because his brother won’t drink anything else when it comes to alcohol. Which is silly because vodka seems a bit too strong for a stick-in-the-mud like Rafal.”

“He’s my person,” Agatha said. “Maybe I should buy him a bottle just so he can drink his assholery away. Maybe cirrhosis will make him more of one, though. You did get gifts for more than just Tedros, right? We have White Elephant and a regular gift exchange as well.”

“Aggie, why do you think I’m in need of financial assistance? I’ve obliterated my bank account for my generosity. Though, to be fair, most of the stuff I got were for my needs, and self-care is just as important as anyone else’s during the holidays. Rafal was one of the only people who couldn’t help me. He’s paying for Rhian’s credit card bill. But Rhian and I were on the same page. Such a pity his sons are loons! Though Rhian Jr. certainly inherited more of that charisma than his twin.”

“Yes, well, I have to get going,” Agatha said quickly, hanging up. She managed to buy several ugly sweaters, and even found one for cats. (Personally, they were cute rather than ugly.) She also purchased gift cards, chocolates, knick knacks and so forth. But it took her another couple of hours to finally find something for Rafal Mistral, and it wasn’t even in the same location.

As she fell asleep after she wrapped and bagged everything for the next day, she made a silent wish that everything would go well at the party. Things just did not seem right for her. So many people, with so many conflicts and differences, and so many pranks and jokes being planned did not sit right with her.

We Wish You a Merry Christmas and a Sappy New Year

At first,  things seemed to take a normal course. Guests were greeted with a joyful “Merry Christmas!” and were assaulted with smells of melted marshmallows, buttery turkey, and freshly baked cookies. The more artistic kinds were whisked off to decorate plain sugar cookies– Rafal surprisingly included in the mix. Agatha noted he liked making little designs of swans on the cookies and some other birds. There was one where he did a holly plant, but that was due to Rhian’s insistence. He gave most to his nephews and he seemed more invested in them than their own father, who appeared as if he forgot they existed every five seconds.

Hester and Anadil looked more fit for a Halloween party, wearing sweaters that had belladonna berries instead of hollies. Aric had anything but holiday cheer, and Tedros was trying way too hard to get along with everybody, annoying more than one person. The only person who seemed really engaged for more than fifteen minutes was James, who was interested in developing more muscle. 

Sophie did not follow the pajama theme, wearing heavy makeup, and a strapped black dress with a white fur coat. Her jewelry consisted of snowflake earrings and a candy cane choker. But then, the Mistral brothers were also not in theme.

“I have no reason to wear what I sleep in to a party,” Rafal hissed. “And no, Rhian, I am not dressing as Santa. May as well have Agatha be the Grinch.” This earned him a glare from Agatha. So much for spending money on him.

Hort knocked over some stockings that fell into the fire, earning screams and harsh reprimands from Sophie. 

“And I paid good money for those!” Tedros said with regret. 

“I helped,” Midas bit back. “I’m paying for half of these people’s debts.” He eyed Rhian. “He’s on his own, though. I don’t help creeps.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Rhian yelled. 

“I think it’s a fair judgment. Aren’t your children from a relationship with your employee–”

“On other matters,” Rufius broke in, “why don’t we begin our gift exchange?”

“Gifts are for babies,” Aric mocked. “Why don’t we get to the drinks?” He turned to Rhian Jr. and Kei. "Unless some people are too baby for it?”

“They aren’t twenty one yet–” Rafal started. Rhian interrupted him, obviously eager for the alcohol. “Oh, I’m sure a few shots of something won’t hurt them. They’ve had my Stella Rosa wine before, after all. Didn’t do a thing to them.”

“Yeah!” Aric shouted. “Even your dad thinks it’s a good idea. Unless you’re all a bunch of crybabies? Wanna meet me outside? I didn’t like that little trick with the mistletoe by the way. Having Japeth and I kiss. We never kiss. That stuff is for softies.”

“We didn’t plan that out,” Rhian the younger replied hastily. “I don’t like you around my brother, and I think Kei would have the same opinion. Maybe Japeth planned it himself, since he’s so obsessed with you!”

Japeth got up. “That’s not a fair assessment to make! I don’t even want to be in this stupid party with songs and cookies and mushy gushy nonsense! I wanted to be alone with my best friend. I didn’t need mistletoe for that or anyone here. Besides, stop hating on Aric, because he’s more loyal to me than you ever have been to me!”

“That’s enough,” Rafal said. “Nobody here under twenty one will drink any drop of alcohol and I hope I made myself clear.”

“Gift exchanges sound really lovely,” Agatha broke in. “Who knows? Maybe we all find something we really enjoy? Tedros, why on earth are you constantly moving in and out of that room?”

He only grinned at her. Sophie rolled her eyes. “I peeked at his gift for James and already, I am despairing of his taste…”

“You wanna fight?” Aric threatened Rafal. Rafal didn't seem to care much. “I won't have the police over, catching me beating up a kid. Didn't go so well when you were trying to battle Hester, I heard.”

“I have a better alternative,” Tedros broke in.”Something that may appeal to their competitive spirit. Why not have us represent them in two teams and they bet who wins? Maybe they can use Christmas cookies or brownies instead of money.”

“I'm not participating,” Hort muttered. “Have a feeling I may have to take someone home.” He looked towards Sophie.

“God, I hope she doesn't drink to her death,” Agatha said under her breath. “While we are still sober, can we exchange gifts? Secret Santa at least?”

“And we haven't even watched Christmas movies with hot chocolate,” Dot added mournfully.

“Or sing Christmas carols and give some of our food to the poor children in the neighborhood,” Rufius said.

“Fine,” Tedros snapped. “Have it your way. My gift to you, Agatha, comes last.”

“And Midas and I have our own little present for a friend,” James said with a smile, Midas eyeing him knowingly. Rafal looked their way, suspicious. Agatha swallowed. Hester burst out laughing. Watching some man be publicly humiliated was one bonus for them today.

“Can I keep the Baby Jesus?” Dot asked as she turned to her friends. “He seems so cute and sweet in his manger…”

“Why am I not surprised she would ask that,” Anadil hissed. “Since it's the holidays, we'll let you as long as you keep it far away from us.”

Agatha smiled until she felt a bag smack her arm. “Ow!” she hissed, rubbing her arm. “What was that for?”

“I got you,” Rafal answered crisply. “For that little gift exchange thing Rhian dragged me into. Believe me, you are the last person I wanted. But I couldn't exactly back out.”

Agatha removed the gift paper from the bag only to find a $30 Amazon gift card inside. He didn't even try.

“To think I spent more than this for you,” Agatha whispered, trying to keep her voice down. “I'm sure everyone else gets the same. Am I correct?”

“Except in White Elephant. My old deck of cards. Some suits were missing so they are useless to me. And you got me?”

“Yes.” She walked to a table, tipping over someone's glass of eggnog in the process and brought out a wooden case with a pile of sketchbooks.

“I thought that you enjoyed drawing as a hobby. There's many different things for art inside. It was costly but I wanted my gift to mean something– even if we didn't necessarily start out on the right note.”

“What a waste,” he responded dryly. Suddenly, music started playing in the background, with James loudly dedicating it to him. 

“Wham’s “Last Christmas”?” he hissed. “What on earth–”

“It’s supposed to match the way you’ve treated them,” Rufius said cheerfully. “Last Christamas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away…”

“Never pegged you as the heartbreaker type, but then again, it’s always the prudes,” Agatha whispered, grinning despite herself. “Merry Christmas, Rafal. Wish you luck for the game next!” 

“What game?”

“You’ll see.”

[i-love-lilies]

Se-mi x OC Anything for you - Chapter two

Hihihi it started to get interesting

The man was in front of the groupe, explaining the game.

« Green light red light ? Again ? Is it always the first game ? » my dad just nodded and shush me. I couldn’t believe that I was here, looking at this horrible game. How could they handle that. How could I just watch it and do nothing ? I just was a monster just like them, nothing different from them. The game start, it’s so boring. The game are long and nothing really happen. I look at my phone again, no message, shit. I think she’s really angry.

The first player been eliminated, a woman, more or less my age i would say. And then people started to scream and run, of course been eliminated too. It’s always the same, every single years. They didn’t know they could die, no one explain that to us before accept to play the game and when 456 try, they didn’t believe him. Of course they didn’t, that crazy, why people would do that to them ? People like me, like my father or our host. For money, like them, it’s always for money. All the collaborators worked on the game, it organizations and to chose different games. The entertainment is not for us at first, but for again more wealthy people than us, the VIP. Psycho…I look at the screen, a lot of eliminated player were at the back of the play room. All died.

I didn’t pay much attention to the end of the game, I didn’t want to watch that and when it finally end I realize that our host wasn’t here anymore. My dad stood up so I follow him and we go talk about this first game with the other collaborators.

« I think 456 will be a problem this year, he’s not here for the money… » said my dad

« For sure, but I’m sure the frontman will do something, he won’t be a problem longer. » respond a woman. Of course, if this man cause too much problems, he will quickly been eliminated for a strange reason. I take a look to the screen, players were on their dormitory. They started to become agitated, but then, the piggy bank started to fill up with wad of bills.

« So, the frontman have a surprise for you, but before that, the players choose to vote. If the majority decide to leave, they will leave. » said the waiters. That was interesting, with a little bit of luck I will return home soon to see Se-mi and apologize to her.

The first man who vote was 456, and he choose to stop. I don’t understand, he already win the game, come again even if he know what happen and then just stop at the first game ? The score was tight, like really tight and player go one by one vote. I could understand they wanted to stay, they all need this money and the price they could have if they go now is not enough. But why staying and die when you can just go and survive.

I start to feel weird, I have a very bad feeling. Not just that the majority would stay… no, more. Like a curse. Something is happening and I don’t know what or how it would be terrible. But the only thing that I know for sure is that is bad.

« Player 380 » call the guy with a square mask. Player 380 move forward to the machine and…

« Oh fuck. » it was Se-mi. I feel my legs shaking, no, it’s impossible. She couldn’t do that to me. I need her to be alive. I just couldn’t hear the world around me. But it was crashing around me, breaking my peace and my heart. I just can’t loose her. My heartbeat and my breath go faster, and a deep anger take my stomach. My eyes started watering and my mouth was shaking. That bitch go to those stupid game without telling me, and she will die here. She have to choose X, to go home and survive. She’s not that idiot to continue. I propose to pay all her debt, she didn’t need to stay. Nor to go to those stupid games !

O

I close my eyes and lower my head. « Fucking slut… why ? » a tears running down my cheek. I could do anything for her and she just go kill herself without telling me ?

« Everything is going right honey ? » ask my dad

« Yes sure » I said between my teeth.

I can’t let her kill herself, if she has to stay in I would do anything to make her leave this place.

I need to talk to the frontman,

I’m sure that with a bit of money he would let her go… maybe a lot. But I’ll give him whatever he want to let her leave. Scores was equals when the last player been called, « Player 001 ». A man move forward, like the other before him. And without real hesitation press O, just like Se-mi. Oh shit… Okay, I really need to talk to the frontman.

But when the man look at the other players and so, the camera that we were watching them with. I see him, the frontman. The frontman was on the game. The world was moving around me, how could I get Se-mi out of this place without him. The others collaborators started to speak, chocked, just like me.

« Why would he do that ? » « Oh my god… did he want to die ? » « what madness » « that incredible » « very good surprise. »

Everyone was thinking something different, when one was questioning his idea to go to the game, other were impressed and were laughing.

« He would never disappoint us ! »

He’s an idiot too, how could I get out Se-mi if his on the game too ?

—> Master list

[wandassweetheart]

ANIMAL!

currently playing… ‘animal’ by sir choe

pairing - bucky barnes x reader / wanda maximoff x reader

warning! - breakup, fear of coming out, reader has minor negative thoughts, not proof read

a/n - hii so this is me rewriting the whole thing because it decided to delete. anyways i know there isn’t much wlw in this but i promise in my later fics its going to be full on wlw. #womenlovewanda

you didn’t really know when these feelings had started but you figured that they had always been lurking deep inside of you. you didn’t want to believe it at first, so you went as far as to dating bucky barnes thinking that you could shake off those feelings of longing for something, for someone. for wanda.

and guess what? that wasn’t even the complicated part, the complicated part was that you had to somehow tell bucky how you felt and that you just couldn’t feel that way towards him emotionally. i mean, how could you?

wanda made you feel something that no man could ever possibly make you feel. she made you behave like an animal whenever you were around her. her subtle eye movements towards your lips, the longing glances, it was like you both knew but couldn’t say anything. all you could think about was how much you wished one of the rings on her fingers could be from you and how much you wanted to be her number one. she was just so pretty it hurt.

and of course you tried to send those thoughts away whenever you could —you felt bad for bucky, this was, like, one of the worst ways somebody could stop loving someone. but the thing was that you had never even loved him, you were just using him to prove a point with yourself that you couldn’t even prove. so how the hell were you supposed to breakup with bucky without him getting absolutely pissed.

you didn’t want him to get mad since you couldn’t control it, love was natural in the end, but what wasn’t natural was how you had hid under a facade for so long using him to fight your own battles. the worst that could happen was that bucky would get disgusted and tell everyone in the compound, resulting in wanda finding out and hating you for being such a creep. but you could only hope that that wouldn’t happen and that you could go on with your plan by asking him nicely and politely to give you what you wanted —a calm, mututal breakup where you could both still remain close friends.

you patiently sat on the bed in your shared bedroom with bucky, fidgeting and praying that all would go well, so when he’d finally entered the room and saw your solemn expression he took it seriously and gently sat down next to you. you took this as your chance to say everything then before you started to get second thoughts and continue the cycle of pushing away how you really felt.

“i tried to love you, but you’re not my type.” you let out a shaky breath before continuing. “tried to pretend, but it just don’t feel right.” all you wanted was to dig a hole for yourself and just die, there and then with the silence that invaded your ears. bucky let out a soft sigh, he didn’t seem mad infact he gave you a small smile?

“should’ve known better.” he murmured, trying to stay cool. in the end, he really had loved you and you did too, just not like that. at least he wasn’t telling you that you were such a fool, right? “i’m not mad,” he started, you frowned as you looked back at him. why the hell isn’t he mad? if i were him i would’ve been so frustrated and thought that i was a monster. “it’s okay, you can’t control who you love, but i want you to know that i still love you even as my closest friend. don’t beat yourself up okay? and it was bound to happen anyways, you think i haven’t caught onto the little looks you and wanda give each other?” he mused.

that had gone better than you’d ever expected. you gave him a slight nod and embraced him tightly you were glad he understood you and didn’t push you way and think you were shameful.

you could finally accept the fact that you were in love with wanda maximoff.

[wesleysniperking]

been thinking about Yasopp…

I’ve been thinking about Yasopp a lot lately. I’m currently writing a one-shot about him and Usopp, and I keep getting caught up in some of the more stagnant ideas surrounding their relationship. What I want to explore is how they could genuinely understand each other—not just because Usopp is his son, but because a son often shares his father’s heart. Yasopp is still such a mystery, and despite his flaws, I’m fascinated by the crew member Shanks actively sought out for reasons we still don’t entirely understand. Oda doesn’t create characters like Yasopp just to leave them in the background forever.

Take Kuma, for example. He was initially introduced as a “guest star” (I’m exaggerating a bit), yet Oda went on to give him an incredible backstory that reshaped how we see him. Oda has a knack for taking seemingly one-dimensional characters and saying, “You think you know, but you really don’t… just wait.” And sure enough, what’s revealed often feels like it was hiding in plain sight all along.

It’s like how Kuro dismissed and badmouthed Yasopp, painting him as useless or trash, but it makes me wonder if Yasopp’s reputation was tainted even before he became a pirate. Maybe he was misunderstood, just like Usopp. Banchina, Usopp’s mother, might have known the real Yasopp—the dreamer, the sharpshooter, the man behind the reputation—and held onto that truth despite what everyone else thought. It’s kind of like how Kaya trusted Usopp, even when no one else did. She knew he wasn’t just a liar; she knew the pirates were real, that Kuro was dangerous, and that Usopp played a crucial role in saving their village (no, Luffy and Zoro didn’t do all the work).

Maybe Yasopp went through something similar—doing the right thing but being misunderstood by those around him. Even in the non-canon Daddy Masterson filler, there’s a flashback of Yasopp that shows a side of him we rarely get to see. His words and actions hint at a much deeper character than the drunken antics or brief glimpses we’ve gotten when Shanks is on screen. It makes me wonder if Yasopp was backed into a corner before Shanks found him, and perhaps being recruited was both an escape and an opportunity to chase his dreams.

There’s also the potential foreshadowing between Van Augur and Yasopp during Marineford when Shanks stepped in to stop the conflict. And then there’s the lingering mystery of when Yasopp realized Usopp had become a Straw Hat. Oda has deliberately kept those details from us, which makes me think there’s more to the story. Yasopp had a reputation before Shanks sought him out—but why?

I’ll admit, there are moments when I feel like giving up on the idea that Oda will dive deeper into Usopp’s story, since his backstory was laid out early on. But then I think about all these little breadcrumbs Oda has left, and I can’t let go of the hope. We don’t even know how Kaya’s parents mysteriously fell ill—Kuro claims he had nothing to do with it, so what’s the real story? And in that flashback where Shanks recruits Yasopp, why was Yasopp sitting on the precipice, staring out at the shore? Was he waiting for Shanks? Did he somehow know Shanks would come, and was just stunned to be proven right?

I might be getting carried away, but I refuse to believe that Yasopp’s absence is simply meant to support the idea that Usopp is broken or unfixable. That’s not fair—not to Usopp, or to anyone who’s grown up without a father figure. Yasopp has a story. A fascinating one, I’m sure. And it could completely blindside the fandom. But ultimately, it’s up to Oda to tell it. Because right now, we really don’t know Yasopp at all.

[littlestsnicket]

title: lunch break

word count: .5k

post season 2; daniel and real rashid are aggrieved co-workers now; the workplace comedy i want the talamasca show to be and am certain i will not receive; set in the same verse as @mitzvahmelting’s rashid is a zoologist fic because i have adopted it as my personal canon

“Do you miss playing butler to the Stepford Wives?”

“We may share an employer, but I still find you immensely irritating.”

“How did you come by that gig anyway? And did the Talemasca recruit you before or after?”

Rashid sighs in a way that is so artfully restrained it comes all the way back around and makes him seem like a diva. “I hold a PhD in cryptozoology.”

“Are you bragging about your PhD to me? I’m not big on formal education.”

“No, that’s the best answer I can give to your question. I was of independent interest to both parties.”

“So Louis thought it was a good idea to hire a cryptozoologist as a butler.”

“I believe it was primarily Armand’s decision. He dealt with most of the minutiae of household management.”

“Why am I not surprised? Armand is weird, man.”

“And yet, I am significantly more fond of him than you. At moments like this, I regret my part in helping you destroy his marriage.”

“Still? He’s probably creeping around waiting to kill you for your betrayal.”

“If Armand wanted me dead, we would not be having this conversation. He would have done it when I found him lurking in my apartment.”

“That’s not fair, Rashid! I spend all of this time and effort trying to attract his attention and he just shows up in your apartment! Was he upset?”

“He allowed me to explain myself.”

“That’s surprisingly magnanimous of him.”

Rashid shrugs. “I wasn’t entirely certain until then, we never discussed it, but he knew I was a Talamasca agent. It wasn’t so large of a betrayal as it might have seemed.”

“So he paid you to spy on him.”

“I asked a similar question. Armand said he wasn’t aware he was at cross purposes with the Talamasca until extremely recently. But I reassured him that we had little interest in his personal affairs, and only provided Sam’s script on your explicit request, so he really only had one newly minted fledgling at which to direct his ire.”

“Throwing me under the bus, Rashid,” Daniel tsks.

“As I said, I don’t particularly like you. But you have little to fear. Armand is inexplicably fascinated by you.”

Daniel frowns. “I think Armand hired you because you sound like a butler and he’s fried his brain watching too much tv on his stupid fucking iPad.”

Rashid makes a face.

“Fine, man, I won’t insult Armand’s intelligence. Maybe he thinks you’re pretty.”

Rashid blushes at that. It’s so subtle Daniel might not have noticed without his heightened senses. He has to restrain himself from crowing and doesn’t do a particularly good job.

“Were you fucking?”

Rashid doesn’t say anything.

“You were!”

“No.” Rashid says, firmly. “And you are lucky the Talamasca doesn’t have an HR department.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, you wouldn’t have hesitated like that. Maybe you’re not exactly lying. Were you having sex so kinky it didn’t even look like sex anymore? I’m sure Armand is into some weird shit.”

Rashid pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I say yes, will you stop?”

“Depends how convincingly you say yes.”

Rashid fixes Daniel with an absolutely dead eyed expression, gathers up his uneaten lunch without breaking eye contact, and stalks out of the break room, slightly too quickly.

“You can’t hide from me Rashid!” Daniel calls after him. The careful deliberate lack of response is satisfying in its own way.

[icarianncarrionn]

Tisha barely pauses to light her cigarette before squeezing Nick’s arm, giddy laughter spilling out of her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this! I mean, I can, because I didn’t tell you, but holy shit! You and Hari?” She takes a drag, but the smoke spills back out with her next laughing fit. “Have you met the kids yet? Oh my God, have you met my parents? Is Christmas going to be the first time? They’re going to love you, don’t even worry about it - you’re like, my mom’s dream.” Well, the werewolf thing isn’t part of the dream, but they don’t need to know that, and she doesn’t need to bring it up, not when everything is starting to go okay. “Sorry, I’m kind of excited. Hari would be super mad at me for saying this, but he’s dated like, three people his entire life, and… I think you’ll be good for him.”

Hari huffs out a soft laugh, turning the pictures over in his hand. “These your kids? Strong genes.” He passes the picture back, and a shadow crosses his face for just a moment. “You know, Rafael… most people would probably say that the friendship Victoria and I have maintained after our divorce is a good thing. I don’t think you understand what it says about you that you don’t.” His voice is just a touch too calm, just a bit too low, and he pours himself another shot.

“It makes you sound like a man who doesn’t see value in someone after your romantic relationship with them ends. I understand being protective. I really do. Ask Tisha about it sometime. Ask her what it was like when she was little. I understand wanting the best for your brother, and being really cautious about who comes into his life. But you have no right to imply what you just implied. And if you ever speak about the mother of my children again in a way that even slightly suggests she would stoop to infidelity, I will not need to lean on words like unspeakable. I can speak it. I won twenty seven of my career fights via knockout. I will punch you in the mouth so fucking hard they’ll still be finding teeth on the day you’re embalmed.” Hari throws back his shot and then stands, setting the glass down firmly. “I hope you grow up before then. Enjoy your night.”

"In my defense, there was no Manic Panic in Brazil when that... accident happened. And I didn't think it would turn out like that. We didn't have access to tutorials either."

"And hairdressers weren't invented yet either," Rafael teased. Of course HE was happy to keep dwelling on the hair subject, even if Nick would've preferred a theological debate at this point. That was when photographic evidence was brought up and he did a 180, almost feeling cheated when Tisha snatched the phone away from Hari.

Rafael though seemed massively confused. "Lob?"

"Long bob," Nick explained, "No wonder you don't know. You've had the same hair length since we were kids."

"Yeah, 'cause I don't like having curls. And it dries faster after swimming."

"You're all so sporty. I almost feel bad," Nick laughed, then proceeded to further indulge in an unhealthy lifestyle by joining Tisha for her smoke break, "Yeah, I could use a smoke."

"Mas cê não deveria." Rafa's words were hardly above a sigh, he knew Nick wasn't going to listen to him anyway, so what's the point. Though with Nick and Tisha gone outside to - no doubt about it - talk about their older brothers, he realised the dangerous freedom he was allowed now. So he got out his wallet and handed Hari a ragged piece of folded cardstock with a photo glued to either side. One showing a girl and a boy at the beach, the more 'antique' one on the other side two young boys with wild black curls smiling at the camera. Rafael tipped his finger on the latter picture. "When Nico was six years old, missing tooth and all." Sure, not an orange hair failure photo but Nick would've still lamented about it, if he had known.

"We were thick as thieves. When our mother died, I raised him. You break his heart, with your ex or whoever, I'm going to do unspeakable things to you. Are we clear?" That was the last Rafael hat to say 'against' his brother's relationship with Hari. Not that he was happy about it, but he could accept it.