#cos i reckon I'm right

[fazcinatingblog]

Good night Tumblr xx

[planetnini]

LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM !

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ for the first time ever satoru is left puzzled just by a simple question from tsumiki, but he knows just how to prove his love for you + gn!reader. fluff with some angst— use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), found family trope <3, girl dad satoru agenda, he is a bit insecure but it gets resolved, cutest fucking declaration of love ever, surprises! snow shenanigans, mistletoe kiss, satoru is the best boyfie ever i love him (5.8k words)

notes. this is a gift!!!! so it will cater to the interests and personality of my person but everything else is very vague :) merry new years secret santa thing @scarameows-world !!!! very late by the time this gets published but whtever.. i'm the reindeer that's been up in your inbox <3 we had alot of good talks and i hope we can stay in touch after this :") now here's a cute little fic i made for you about the one and only gojo satoru. title is inspired by this song

gojo satoru is a man whose proficiency knows no bounds. he is a force to be reckoned with ushering a new era of powerful sorcerers and curses due to his possession of both the six eyes and limitless technique. he could do almost anything as one might expect and everything came naturally to him. he never had any doubts about himself, but then came along you. 

satoru was a natural when it came to flirting, but he was not accustomed to the rejection he faced in his early days when you would ‘let him down easy’– it was nothing short of disastrous, always ending in banter between you two. yet somehow you had your wicked ways of making him chase even though all you two did was flirt. after several attempts to woo you and you finally stepping up, one thing led to another now here you were, co-parenting two kids with the man you once swore you’d never be with. satoru was 100% sure that he would be yours for infinity, but it wavered on this particular day. 

satoru was on a little errand run with tsumiki whom he had entrusted with pushing the trolley around as he scanned the list you had made for tonight’s dinner and activity. she was a young and incredibly happy girl who was much friendlier than her brother, megumi. when satoru adopted the two, tsumiki had taken a liking to him immediately whilst megumi took a liking towards you so he had taken her on the trip. it had been going well, with them doing the final grocery run after spending what felt like hours picking out the perfect wreath for the front door, however tsumiki’s question stopped him right in his tracks.

“do you love y/n?” she asked, a little curious look decorating her features.

“that’s a silly question. of course i do!” he uttered, scanning the wreaths with his eyes picking out the perfect one because quite frankly, he didn’t know how to react. 

people naturally assume that growing up from a family who viewed him as an ornament and coddled him that he would be a closed book or lacking in social skills but his first few years at jujutsu tech proved everyone wrong: he was not just a pretty face who could get away with just that. in the end, his love for others was his weakness and tsumiki had brought up something that satoru had failed to anticipate. what did she see that satoru couldn’t and was that even possible?

she took the wreath from his hands and put it into the trolley bringing him back to the present, “how do you know you love y/n?” she paused, and tsumiki must be sadistic for making him suffer like this, “what does it feel like?” she asked, looking up at him.

satoru looked down at the child, surprised by her questions. he paused for a moment, considering how to articulate such an answer to a complex question. was it that hard to believe that gojo satoru was capable of loving someone?

while satoru would never admit it at the start, he needed megumi and tsumiki more than they needed him. after suguru’s defect, they especially reminded him that sometimes blood wasn’t all that important when it came to the people you loved. he loved them but in a completely different way than he loved you. a love so unequivocal that it was impossible for people not to know how truly and deeply in love satoru was with you, so he wasn’t sure where he went wrong but perhaps it wasn’t enough.

“well,” he began a thoughtful look on his face, “loving someone is different to everyone. i guess i can’t really explain it other than a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and it makes you feel like everything is right…” he replied, her eyes lighting up with understanding, “you care for their happiness the most, that you’d even share your favourite candy.” he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes, trying not to sound too sentimental.

“so you feel warm and fuzzy when you see y/n?” she looked up curiously at satoru.

he chuckled, ruffling the child's hair, "yeah, exactly. now come on, let’s finish this quickly so we can go home. get something for yourself and your brother.” he winked to which tsumiki nodded eagerly, seemingly satisfied with his answer as she rushed down the aisle finding something to bring home.

the atmosphere between satoru and the girl was no longer tense but satoru’s mind was swirling. he was reflecting on the innocence of the question as he took control of the trolley now, finished with his chores for the day. he even went as far as buying you something too but tsumiki had inadvertently planted a seed of doubt in his mind and now satoru was spiralling. did he love you enough? was his warm and fuzzy feelings strong and genuine, or was it something he convinced himself of after everything that went down? the simplicity of her question left satoru questioning himself and for the first time in forever, he is unsure of his relationship with you.

“i thought i told you that they can’t stay up late.” you spoke while washing the dishes. satoru could only lightly chuckle as he rinsed the plate, putting it on the drying rack. he knew you only meant well but he enjoyed seeing you like this more than he had expected: seeing you so worried and being such a caring person towards them. it was not like he had forced you to take care of them, it was through your own volition that you practically raised them.

“come on…” he drawled a little pout on his lips, “they said they didn’t want to decorate the tree without you tomorrow.” he reasoned, knowing that the two children in the living room were your true weakness and that just as much as you do for them, they’d do for you too. the way a simple sentence morphed your furrowed brows into a look of gratitude proved his point.

“do they actually want to decorate the tree with me or is it only because you bought them sweets today?” you accused.

“they’re much older now,” he reassured with a tone you doubt has any good intentions, “besides, i think it’s fair if we stop their ban on sweets, don’t you?” he asked with a simple hip nudge and you roll your eyes at the gesture.

he was happy with this, with how things were going in your life right now, in fact he couldn’t get enough of it. his request was simple, but you wasted no time immediately retaliating, “you just want to freely eat your sweets and use them as an excuse.” 

“what little faith you have in me!” he gasped and you have to stifle a laugh, “plus, they’re kinda scary when they don't get their way.” he joked, leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed to get a better view of you who had just finished washing and drying your hands after dinner. 

“how the higher-ups trust someone like you on those missions, i have no idea. i wonder how they would react if they found out you can’t handle two children.” you said, flashing him a smile. mentioning the higher-ups in the conversation made satoru’s blood boil but it had been tamed when he caught that little shake of your head combined with your smile. he had been contemplating the nature and depth of his feelings for you but tonight had proved that it was all a fluke– just seeing you was enough to remind him that nothing about loving you could ever be doubted, because loving you was as natural as breathing.

satoru leaned down to meet your eyes as you turned to face him, “sweetheart, if you want me home instead of on missions, you could just say so.” he smirked– a signature gojo satoru look that you couldn’t tell if you loved or hated.

you narrowed your eyes at him, “i hope you get put on more missions.” 

“you wound me.” he grunted, a hand over his heart feigning hurt but you knew that he was joking.

“you can take it.” you hummed, eyebrows scrunching as he stared down at you lovingly with a smile etched across his face.

there have been so many moments between you, satoru and the kids that blossomed with joy– something that felt lost in a world rife of evil– but you forget that you’re both still fairly young, thwarted into roles of guardians. you loved satoru since you were teens and seeing that this was your first relationship ever, it is only normal to feel insecure, and normal that you have doubts that satoru could ever truly love you.

while staring at satoru your mind can’t help but swirl with thoughts and he catches on immediately, perceptive as ever due to his six eyes and well, being gojo satoru. he sees it in your contemplative sighs that he had been hearing throughout the week, in your crafted smile, the way your shoulders are tensed and your jaw clenched: he knows you’re feeling some way right now because even your eyes don’t have their usual spark. your name rolls off his tongue so naturally, as if he was born to say it, as he reaches up to brush his hand across your cheek.

“what’s on your mind?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, thumb caressing your cheek. to him, the signs are as clear as day that you were troubled with thoughts of something and he wouldn’t rest until he found out what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

that warm fuzzy feeling intensified, secret moments between the two of you that the young girl was unaware of. it’s times like this you’re grateful that satoru is so in touch with how you felt most times and you can’t help the relief that settles in your heart when you realise you were so lucky to have him in your life, “it’s nothing,” you shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, “just… thank you for everything you did the other day,” you said, genuinely appreciative of his contribution to megumi’s birthday dinner, “i know you don’t think that he likes you but he really does look up to you.” you admitted.

“my charms aren’t all that bad.” he hummed, a proud nod as you snorted at his holier-than-thou tone.

your eyes closed at the soft contact of his lips on the crown of your head, warmth spreading all throughout your body during the cold winter month. you crave him and his touch, and you’re lucky that he hasn’t been put on any missions, specifically requested (he threatened the higher-ups knowing his status) to stay home with you and the others for just a couple of weeks. a small sigh left his lips as he started moving his hands away from your face up over his blindfold, the loss of contact made you pout slightly. your hand came over his, stopping him with a simple action, “are you sure you want them off?” you whispered, your voice dripping with concern.

“i want to see you.” he said, without an ounce of hesitation in his response. 

“i don’t like the migraines it gives you when you have them off.” you retaliated as you shook your head resolutely. he wants to listen to you, seeing how much you cared for him and laid your heart out for him. the love you had for him was overflowing and he did not know how he got so lucky.

“i can take it,” he insisted, voice a mix of both amusement and affection, “besides, i’ll endure any and all amounts of pain just for you.”

“after that declaration, i better not hear a complaint out of you.” you said, smiling up at him as you begin to unwrap the blindfold yourself. your delicate fingers moved the bandages around his head, undoing the white bandages. the gesture made satoru relax in your touch as you pulled them away from his face. being able to let his guard down after suguru had been difficult but you were a rare (and lucky) case.

once the bandages are undone, you can see that he’s wincing and squinting, probably due to the oversensitivity. adjusting to his surroundings, you brush his cheek with your thumb and his eyes flutter open to have a look at you, “hi beautiful.” he breathes out, utterly captivated by you.

you mirrored his look, squinting as you leaned forward with a smile wanting nothing more than to kiss him until– 

“what’s taking so long?” tsumiki yelled, surprising you and making the two of you jump from your spot. if satoru was masking his pain before, he wasn’t doing so now as he screwed his eyes shut and you feel extra protective of satoru now that his blindfold was off. he was extra sensitive to loud surroundings so when she came in shouting the two of you with his guard fully down, you knew satoru probably was still adjusting to having his blindfold off with the kids.

“did your brother put you up to this?” you asked.

“we were just wondering where you two were.” she replied bashfully.

“i told you they were kissing.” megumi groaned from behind her and if you weren’t embarrassed before, you wanted to dig your grave now that he had said it out loud.

“actually, we were rudely interrupted.” satoru complained, narrowing his eyes at megumi. living with them, you know how much megumi truly looked up to satoru but moments like this question why they were always at each other’s neck

megumi rolled his eyes, “have some manners you two,” you ordered, making tsumiki chuckle a bit, “i’m sorry for making you guys wait so long.” you apologised and you see megumi nod slightly at you.

“are you two in cahoots?” satoru whispered in your ear but you pushed him away jokingly. megumi was first to leave the room and tsumiki followed suit, but before satoru joined the two, you reached out grabbing his hand, “i know you said no presents this year, but-” you said, handing him a wrapped rectangular box.

“you said no presents for christmas.” he blurted out, confusion taking over his features.

“well, i sometimes doubt if you ever listen to me,” you looked up at him and you would be right because satoru had bought and wrapped your gift already, “just think of it as a very belated birthday present then.” you smiled at him, anticipating his reaction to your gift.

he opened the box carefully and he could see an engraving on a case, and his heart sunk. he knew he was in love with you, but was it possible to love you even more than he already had? he picked up the case and took out the special glasses he wore when he went out instead of the usual blindfold.

“i remember you said you needed new ones after they broke.”

“correction, when megumi broke my other ones.” he corrected. you rolled your eyes at him, and give him a light peck on the cheek, “thank you.” he spoke before you could make your way to help the children. 

“don’t break them again, i’m not made of money satoru.” you warned and situated yourself on the floor, sitting cross legged as you peered over at what the two had been up to when you and satoru were in the kitchen. tsumiki was unboxing some tinsel and megumi was taking care of the ornaments. to be honest, you weren’t sure when you became one of those families who went full out for christmas. the only things you ever really did was presents or stockings and having dinner together. you were overlooking the process, not really helping, or rather not knowing how to as you had never really had a tree let alone decorate one. 

“you’re not going to help?” tsumiki questioned, with a tilt of her head as she began to decorate the tree.

all the attention is turned to you now as you shake your head untangling some of the lights for the tree, “i mean, i’ve never really celebrated christmas with a tree and it’s for you guys right?”

“that’s sick and twisted!” satoru gasped, slumping down right next to you with his new sunglasses, “so you mean you’ve never had a christmas tree?” he exclaimed, and quite frankly you don’t really see the big deal.

“i wasn’t blessed with being born into a family like yours.” you teased and he took serious offence to that, not because he was offended by your comment but more so your nonchalance. 

“well, anything you want to do for christmas?” megumi asked, putting some of the ornaments on the tree. he always had an artistic perspective and you were glad he was putting so much thought into where each one went.

“i’m not going to be home until late at night, but i guess i’ve always wanted it to snow big enough that i could build a snowman.” you shrugged, looking at the kids.

“that’s impossible.” megumi groaned.

“how are we going to get it to snow?” she exclaimed.

“exactly. it’s alright,” you reassured as you stood up from your spot, “as long as i’ve got you guys, that’s all i could ask for.” you winked at them as you helped them get to the higher spots of the tree. satoru sits there watching as you now start to help the two decorate the tree and decide to help out. you are too distracted to see that his mind is swirling with ideas– he is determined to make your christmas a little more special and he has some ideas up his sleeve that he can’t wait to use.

you feel the exhaustion of staying up late last night settle deep into your bones when you’re on your way home from the mission. it wasn’t like you didn’t get enough sleep, you got just the perfect amount but not being home today to celebrate with the kids and satoru kind of made your heart sink. it had always been the four of you the entire day and sometimes occasionally with the others but being away from home, away from them had taken a big toll on your heart.

you wiped at your eyes with a yawn as you began making your way down the path to your house. the cool winter night was in full swing, trees moving slightly in the small rush of wind that passed by along with the small sprinkles of snow.  you took a deep breath and rubbed over your arms as you looked up at the sky. you weren’t lying when you said you wanted snow, it had always been a dream of yours to see falling snow, and enough that it might be enough to build a snowman, it was just something that hadn’t happened in a long time. 

you reached the house but the eerily quietness and lack of light concerned you, were they watching a movie or something or did they go out and not tell you beforehand? you brushed off your worries, unlocking the door walking into an empty house. the whole room was dark, nothing could be heard and your heart was stuck in your chest, stopping at just the mere thought of not being completely alone right now. 

you could hear some whispers and instinctively your hand went up, charging up your cursed technique as you hear some shuffling until an array of fairy lights went off above you, decorated meticulously going up the stairs and some nice garlands all around, warm lighting and while you’re staring at the lights, you don’t notice the three standing right in front of you.

“welcome home.” they shouted, and you swear you had felt that much relief in your entire life.

“i could’ve hurt you guys!” you exclaimed, a hand over your heart. the soft vinyl record you distinctly remember shoko gifting you after seeing you eye it last christmas playing from the living room, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“well that defeats the whole point of a surprise if i told you, right guys?” he said, and it is only now you realise that he has a santa hat on with the other two in ugly sweaters. you know megumi would be less than happy to be dressed in this right now but you assume he did so for you and couldn’t help the way the corner of your lips curved up at the sight. this… this is what you loved about your little family, and you knew it was wrong to call it a family– the two kids aren’t yours, and you’re not married to satoru but this moment, combined with the cute late night you shared with them just the night prior confirmed that you were all closer than that and how much they loved you.

“you did not need to do this for me,” you sighed, a little overwhelmed by how well decorated everything was. you hadn’t even noticed the holly, the bells, candles, and a bunch of other festive decorations– they really went all out. you wonder just how they pulled it all together but then you remembered that satoru would stop at nothing when it came to his gestures, “and you definitely did not need to drag them into this.” you added, kneeling down in front of them so that you could hug tsumiki and as you stood up you looked at megumi and ruffled his hair despite how much you know he hated when satoru did it, when you did it, you weren’t met with the same grumpy huff.

satoru gasped, “hey, these two were asking if you’d like them and i pointed them in one direction okay?” he defended but as you looked down at the two they were shaking their heads as if to refute his words, “don’t listen to them. they did it because they love you just as much as i do.”

respectfully, you hated satoru but not in a way that was malicious but for always making you feel like the luckiest person on earth. for being friends with you back then when it seemed like the world wasn’t on your side, for allowing you to stay in his life after losing his friend, for letting you take care of two of the most beautiful children ever. he was one of the sweetest people you ever knew and you doubt any gift or gesture would be enough to make up for the man that he is. without realising you had tears stream down your face, and you bring your hand up over your face to cover it. you weren’t usually the type to cry over something so trivial but here you were.

“i can’t believe you made y/n cry on christmas.” megumi complained, trying to lighten the mood as tsumiki’s mouth dropped.

"y/n's fine!" satoru reassured and you can’t help but laugh as you wiped away some of the tears. before you could speak satoru went over to you, engulfing you in a hug, “you better not apologise for crying. there’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” he reassured, rubbing circles on your back. you nod profusely, trying to keep yourself calm in front of the others (not that they’d never seen you cry before) before pulling away from the hug. you stared into his cerulean eyes, out and free from their usual blindfold or glasses, “it’s nice to see you my love.” he whispered, meant only for your ears. 

you chuckled, pressing your lips into his cheek before turning around, “how about we open some gifts? how does that sound?” you smiled and their eyes lit up, brighter than the lights all inside the house and they scattered off like little mice to the living room where the tree was, with quite a few presents under the tree (courtesy of satoru’s money but joint in terms of thinking of what to get them) and you followed behind. satoru threw his arm over your shoulder as you took a seat on the couch as they got ready to unwrap their gifts.

“are you hungry?” he asked softly as they started unwrapping their gifts, the one in the penguin wrapping paper which satoru had wrapped up himself.

“i had something to eat on the way back.” you reassured and he nodded.

the two had spent quite a while opening satoru’s gifts. you noticed that the presents were some things the two children had mentioned once a very long time ago and were quite surprised that satoru had hand picked these gifts himself without asking you for help. you knew that he noticed every little detail about the people in his life but it made you wonder if he got you a gift after you said not to. you wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t get you one and vice versa.

“i got you that one.” you spoke, trying to contain your excitement as megumi picked up your gift, wrapped in some candy cane paper. you watched as he unwrapped it, revealing a digital camera and you hear tsumiki exclaim, excited for her gift now.

“a camera?”

you sat up, moving away from satoru as you leaned forward, “i know there aren’t that many pictures of you guys around the house so i got you that so we could start printing some out and putting them up.” 

megumi couldn’t hold in his gratitude any longer bringing you in for a hug, “thank you y/n.” he said, and you hugged him back, kissing him on the cheek. satoru was going to make a comment about how he also wanted a hug after all the gifts he gave but it was a special moment shared between the two of you and he was not going to ruin the moment.

as megumi was setting up his camera with satoru’s help, you turned to tsumiki and watched as she unwrapped her own gift, she looked up from the box to you with shock all over her face, “y/n…” she whispered, voice cracking, “i can’t take this.” she said, handing you back the box.

“hey.. it's okay,” you reassured, lightly pushing the box back in her direction, “it’s a gift tsumiki.” 

you watched her pull out the necklace, the stunning small heart shaped engraved with her initial on it but that wasn’t all you got her. after observing the necklace and helping her put it on, she opened a box that contained a letter, telling her of how much you adored her with special keepsakes from some memories you shared throughout the year. you have never seen her so happy and when she hugged you, you catch the stare that satoru is giving you– absolutely entranced by how much you loved them. a simple flash takes you off guard as megumi takes his first picture on the camera.

“how about you guys get your coats, i have something to give y/n.” satoru stated and they ran off with excitement in their bones at his plan. he had filled them in but they weren't convinced he could pull it off.

“talk about a successful night.” you chuckled, picking up the wrapping paper and throwing it in the bag that satoru was holding. 

“get changed.” he spoke, taking the bag from you and now it’s your turn to be surprised again.

“what? where are we going?”

after getting changed, suspicion arising from his sudden ask of getting changed. you walk out of your room seeing everyone in their coats, scarves, and you watch as the children begin to walk out first leaving the two of you alone. 

“what are you up to satoru?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. 

“since you thought you could cheat your way around buying me a gift,” he replied honestly, which took you off guard, “i thought it was only fair if i got you some things as well.” there was a small box in his hand, and you took it from his hand. you held your breath as you unwrapped the paper to see a box tied with a ribbon. you opened the box, revealing nothing but a sheet of paper.

you definitely weren’t the ungrateful type but you were expecting something else like maybe a ring, a necklace or something else but as you examined the paper you looked up at him with your mouth wide open. it was a receipt of something you had been eyeing for a couple months but nothing you could excuse spending money on. you had been an avid lover since you were young and it was always your dream to have one of these.

“satoru.” you said, honestly starstruck at his gift.

“you have been eyeing that for so long,” he reasoned with a simple nudge of the shoulder, "merry christmas."

“i can’t accept this.” you shook your head, giving it back to him but you know it is relentless to deny his gifts especially after you pulled your little secret gift on him the other day.

satoru gave you a stare and pursed his lip, “you are keeping it. end of discussion.” he smiled as he started to wrap a scarf around you. satoru had always looked good in winter clothing, a scarf tucked around his neck and due to his infinity, he was never cold but still dressed to the occasion with his designer brands. he was so handsome…

“and since you’re not saying anything i'm assuming you don't like it?” he taunted. you told your brain to make a coherent sentence or at least move so you don’t make a fool of yourself just looking at the gift. you stared up at him, you used your free hand to push the scarf down from the bottom half of your face, "you know i thought you weren't going to get me anything?"

satoru had never stopped at any words faster than he had those, "what?" he answered with a shaky voice.

you scoffed holding his hand in yours, looking anywhere but into his eyes, "i thought you might do a whole 'i'm your gift' thing," you admitted, a little ashamed you had such little faith in him, "i guess you do love me."

"y/n..." he uttered, "if i have ever made you doubt i love you then i have failed as your boyfriend," he spoke and you could feel your whole body warm at his words. "you are everything to me even if you and megumi are in cahoots and pray on my downfall." he said and you shoved him. he winced lightly at the push and smiled as he pulled you close to him once more, eyes moving down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

“that was really sweet of you.” you uttered, looking up at him.

“sweet enough for a kiss?”

“unless you make it snow, i’m not kissing you.” 

“i think i deserve just one…” he teased as he leaned closer to you.

a hand suddenly grabbed yours, tsumiki's gloved one, and once again stealing that moment between you and satoru, "y/n! didn't you hear me?" she gasped as you saw the wet snow on her coat go from crystal into a wet drop.

"what happened? is megumi okay? are you okay?" you asked, hand brushing over her face as if to check for any injuries.

"it's snowing!" she exclaimed as she made her way back out.

you looked over at satoru baffled but you could just see him smile at you mischievously and you run out and to your surprise, the snow is pouring down from the sky and you now know that your christmas wish has been satisfied. looking up at the sky, you put your hand out as the snow falls into your hand and you chuckle even though you are freezing your ass off.

the children began throwing snowballs at each other and one hits you at the back of the head and you turn to see all three of them standing there staring at you. they all point at gojo before you decide to pick up some snow for yourself throwing it at him back, thankful his infinity was still down.

you truly appreciate satoru doing his best to make you happy because it was all you ever wanted. he got a snowball in the face before falling down on the floor, and all of you chuckled at him landing on his back as he began to sit up, snow covering his whole back side and all in his hair.

you knelt in the snow and began to make the snowman you've always wanted to during christmas with the help of the two and when you're done you notice him standing at the front porch just staring as tsumiki started doing snow angels and megumi's two wolf shikigami joining him in the snow. you don't know when he let them out but you just smiled as you approached satoru, "what are you doing here?"

"just admiring you," he complimented and you shake your head, "did i do okay?"

you stare at him in bewilderment before moving to press a kiss to his cheek, "you did well satoru. more than that if possible."

he smiled cheekily and you move your hand to drag him back into the snow, "come on..." you hummed as you tried to pull him away from the front porch but he refused to move and you stare at him with a tilt of the head, "what's wrong?"

"you said you would kiss me if i made it snow.” he recalled, hand on his chin as he tried to refresh your memory.

“how the hell did you manage to make it snow?” you snickered but he didn’t look like he was joking. you don’t know how he managed, he would never say but you shook your head, “sorry babe, i don’t think you can control the weather… it is quite unpredictable.” you shrugged, giving him a fake guilty look.

“it’s a christmas miracle!” he yelped with his smile that you know and have grown to adore so much and you follow his gaze to the mistletoe above your head, "you know the rules." he seethed trying to seem nonchalant.

"you're an idiot," you laughed before holding his face in your hands, tiptoeing a bit before pressing your lips to his. you pulled away and brushed his lips with your thumb a little, "i love you satoru, always."

he could only pull you back in for another kiss, smiling as he did so as the kids exclaimed in disgust and horror at the sight. "i love you y/n. here's to many more years with you." he whispered when he pulled away. it was a christmas you will never forget and one that tsumiki and megumi will also never forget, dramatically reminding you that they were traumatised from your little kiss.

tags! @stsgluver @sukxma (thank you for hosting the event)

i hope you love this lynne, i apologise it's not my best work and i'm sorry it took so long. i love you, i hope you're doing well

[writeriguess]

I think this is where I send requests?

Could you maybe do a Bakugo x fem reader where the reader is a transfer student from the UK? It could be crack or fluff I just think that would be funny.

Could it also specifically be more someone from the north and not like the typical posh London person. I think it would be cool if they just came from a random little town in the north and no one can understand her accent.

Thank you!

You fidget with the hem of your uniform, feeling your nerves spike as you step into the hallway of U.A. High. Your shoes click softly against the polished floor, and your gaze flickers to the nameplate on the door ahead. Class 1-A. This is it. You feel your heart race a little faster. It wasn’t the typical first day nerves that got you—it was the fact that you were a transfer student, plucked from your little northern English town and dropped into this highly prestigious Japanese school for heroes. You barely knew any Japanese, and on top of that, your thick northern accent had already gotten you some confused stares from teachers.

Right, you think to yourself, deep breaths, it'll be fine. Just stay calm, smile, and don’t panic if they can’t understand you.

The door slides open, and a tall man with wild, unkempt hair, half-hidden in a yellow sleeping bag, stands at the front of the room. His eyes are half-closed, and he looks like he’s fighting off sleep. You can’t help but feel a little taken aback. This was your homeroom teacher?

“Ah, the transfer student,” he mutters in a bored tone, barely lifting his head to acknowledge you. "Introduce yourself."

You clear your throat, stepping up to the front of the class, feeling the weight of several pairs of eyes on you. The classroom falls silent, all eyes on you. There’s a mix of curiosity and confusion in the air. You swallow hard.

“Uh, alreet,” you start, flashing a nervous smile, “I'm from t’north of England, came 'ere to transfer 'cos, well, it's U.A., innit? And I reckon I could learn a lot, y'know?” Your voice is confident enough, but you can already tell from the blank stares that they don’t have a clue what you just said.

You shift awkwardly. Of course, you think. The accent.

You try again with that little Japanese you knew, as slowly as you could. "I, uh… I’m from a town in the north of England. Here to train as a hero. Nice to meet you all."

There’s still a pause, but you can see some of the students starting to nod, like they’re piecing together what you meant. Except for one boy. You notice him immediately because of the way he’s glaring at you, arms crossed over his chest. His ash-blonde hair spikes aggressively in every direction, and his sharp crimson eyes are practically burning a hole through you.

“You speakin’ some kinda foreign language or somethin’?!” the boy snaps, scowling deeply. “What the hell did you just say? Speak properly!”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you feel the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck. You take a breath, steadying yourself. Right. This must be the infamous Bakugo, you think, recalling the brief description you were given before the transfer. Fiery, loud, prone to explosions—both literally and figuratively.

“I am speakin’ properly,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “I speak English, just not posh London English like y'might be used to.”

Bakugo’s eyes narrow further, and he stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh? You callin’ me stupid?”

“No, I’m callin’ yer ears broken if y'can’t understand a bit of a northern accent!” you snap back before you can stop yourself.

The class erupts into laughter, some of them trying to hide it behind their hands while others, like a girl with pink skin and horns, outright cackle. Even the teacher, though he looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else, quirks a brow in mild amusement.

Bakugo’s glare intensifies, and you swear you see sparks flicker from his palms. Oh, brilliant, you think, first day, and I’ve already wound up the most temperamental student here.

Before Bakugo can explode—quite literally—a boy with glasses and a serious expression stands up from his desk, waving his arms wildly in a chopping motion. “Everyone, calm down! This is no way to welcome a new student! Let’s maintain order and professionalism!”

“Shut up, Iida, I don’t need you telling me what to do!” Bakugo growls, but he sinks back into his chair nonetheless, arms still crossed and glaring daggers in your direction.

The boy with glasses, Iida apparently, adjusts his frames and turns to you with a formal bow. “I apologize for the disruption. I am Tenya Iida, the class representative. If you need any assistance adjusting to U.A., please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Cheers,” you say with a smile. At least he seemed nice.

You’re shown to your seat, which happens to be near the back of the class. As you sit down, you catch a few of the other students stealing curious glances at you. A girl with short brown hair and a round face leans over from her desk. “Hey! I’m Ochaco! I like your accent—it’s really cool!” she says brightly.

You give her a grateful smile. “Thanks, pet.”

She giggles. “Pet?”

You laugh softly. “It’s just what we say where I’m from. It’s like saying ‘love’ or somethin’ like that.”

Before you can explain further, Bakugo scoffs loudly from the other side of the room. “Tch. ‘Pet.’ How about you speak like a normal person so we don’t have to decode every word?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up. “How about you learn to keep up, yeah?”

He opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off by the sound of the classroom door sliding open again. The tension in the room dissipates as a tall figure walks in. You recognize him immediately—All Might, the legendary Number One Hero, in his debonair yet far-too-cheerful form. The air practically shifts with his presence, and all eyes, even Bakugo’s, turn to him.

"Ah! A new student! Welcome!" he booms, his voice full of energy, completely oblivious to the simmering tension from before. He grins at you, giving you a thumbs-up. “It’s always exciting to see new young heroes join us! I’m sure you’ll do splendidly!”

You nod, not trusting your voice just yet. Your stomach is still doing flips from Bakugo’s outburst.

The day drags on with lessons and training exercises. Most of the class seems welcoming enough, though you catch Bakugo’s glare on you more than a few times. You try to shrug it off. He clearly had some sort of superiority complex, and you weren’t going to let that get to you. Not on your first day.

It’s later in the afternoon when you’re paired with Bakugo for a training exercise. Of course. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was about to unfold.

The task is simple—defeat your opponent or capture the flag. But with Bakugo, you know it’s going to be anything but simple.

The second the buzzer goes off, he’s on you like a storm. Explosions crackle from his palms as he charges, eyes locked on you with that same fierce glare from earlier. You barely have time to dodge as he barrels toward you, his attack leaving scorch marks on the ground.

“C’mon, newbie! Don’t just stand there!” he yells, clearly irritated that you’ve managed to evade him.

You grit your teeth, your mind racing as you try to think of a strategy. You might not have the same flashy quirk as he does, but you’re quick on your feet. You duck under another explosion, your muscles coiled, waiting for an opening.

“Yer gonna ‘ave to try harder than that, mate!” you shout over the noise, dodging his next blast with a quick roll.

Bakugo grits his teeth, his eyes blazing with fury. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face!”

The tension between you and Bakugo only seems to grow with every passing second. It’s a clash of stubbornness, of fire against wit. He’s relentless, and you… well, you’re not about to let him win that easily.

Not today.

Bakugo charges at you again, his palms crackling with raw energy. Each explosion is like a thunderclap echoing in the training arena, but you remain calm, dodging just out of reach, your reflexes kicking in. You’ve faced tough situations back home—just because this is Japan and the world’s most prestigious hero school doesn’t mean you’ll crumble under pressure.

“Hold still, you damn extra!” Bakugo snarls, eyes blazing as he unleashes a barrage of blasts, determined to corner you. The intensity of his attacks makes the ground tremble, smoke rising in swirling plumes from the spots he hits.

You duck behind a large piece of rubble, your heart racing, the vibrations of his attacks reverberating through your body. You can feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the fight-or-flight instinct pushing you to your limits. But instead of fear, there’s something else—a challenge.

“Yer daft if y’think I’m just gonna sit ‘ere and let you blow me to bits!” you call out, glancing at him from your cover.

His eyes flick to where you’re hiding, a growl escaping his throat. “I’m gonna blow you up, and then we’ll see who’s daft!”

You grin despite yourself. He really is just as bad-tempered as they said.

You catch a brief glimpse of the flag, just a few meters away on a raised platform. If you could just get to it before Bakugo realized… Your mind races, formulating a plan. You’ve noticed that Bakugo is all about speed and power, but if you can outmaneuver him—if you can get into his head—it might just give you the edge.

You dart out from behind the rubble, and he’s on you immediately. You sprint, weaving through debris and obstacles like a fox evading a hound. The explosions light up the arena, and you can feel the heat of them as they just barely miss you. Bakugo’s attacks might be powerful, but they’re wild, almost too focused on brute force.

“You keep runnin’, but you’re not getting away from me!” he yells, his voice hoarse with frustration.

You smirk, adrenaline sharpening your senses. “Oh aye? Y’sure about that?”

He charges at you full speed, completely focused on taking you down. It’s exactly what you wanted. At the last second, you feint to the left, using the momentum to slide under him just as his explosion misses your side by inches. You can feel the heat from the blast lick your skin, but you don’t stop. Your body twists as you pop back to your feet, heading straight for the flag.

Bakugo, furious, spins around. “You little—”

Before he can finish, you leap toward the flag, your fingers just grazing the edge of the cloth.

Bakugo is right on your tail. You can practically feel his breath as he dives for you, his hand reaching out, but you’re faster this time. You grab the flag, twisting your body to dodge his final attack as his palm comes inches from making contact with your side. Instead of blasting you away, he crashes into the ground, narrowly missing you.

You hold the flag up, your chest heaving as you grin victoriously. “Looks like I’m the one still standin’, mate.”

Bakugo lifts his head, his face a mix of shock and rage. He glares at you from where he’s crouched on the ground, dirt smeared across his face. “What the hell…?”

You shrug, smirking as you twirl the flag in your hand. “Told ya. Might be from a small town, but we don’t back down easily.”

For a moment, Bakugo doesn’t move. His eyes burn with frustration, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Then, with a low growl, he pushes himself up, dusting off his uniform, though it’s clear he’s more angry at himself than you.

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of the match. The other students begin filing in from the viewing platform where they had been watching the battle unfold. Some of them are whispering, while others openly grin, impressed with your victory.

“Not bad for a newbie!” Kaminari calls out with a grin, giving you a thumbs-up. “I didn’t think anyone could keep up with Bakugo’s explosions on their first day.”

“Yeah, that was awesome!” Kirishima adds, his sharp teeth showing as he smiles broadly. “You’re one tough cookie!”

“Impressive,” Todoroki says quietly from his spot on the sidelines, his mismatched eyes watching you with a mixture of curiosity and respect.

You can feel a swell of pride in your chest. It’s not easy fitting in, especially when you’re thousands of miles from home, but maybe—just maybe—you’ve started to prove yourself.

Bakugo, however, is less than impressed. He storms past you, shoulders stiff, muttering something under his breath about “dumb extras” and “cheap tricks.”

“Oi, Bakugo!” you call after him, unable to resist poking the bear just a little more. “If y’ever wanna learn ‘ow to outwit someone instead of just blowin’ ‘em up, gimme a shout!”

He stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning to look at you with a dangerous glint in his eye. For a second, you think he might actually explode. But instead, he just glares at you, his voice low and venomous. “Next time, I won’t miss.”

You smirk, unfazed. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, but the atmosphere in the classroom feels a little different. People aren’t just curious about you anymore—they’re impressed. You’ve already shown that you can hold your own, even against someone like Bakugo.

Ochaco leans over again as you’re packing up your things. “You were really amazing out there! How did you manage to dodge him like that?”

You shrug, trying to be modest, but you can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips. “It’s all about payin’ attention. Bakugo’s strong, but he’s predictable. Once y’get a feel for his rhythm, it’s not so ‘ard to dodge.”

She nods, eyes wide. “Wow, you make it sound so easy.”

“Yeah, well, it’s easier when y’don’t get distracted by all the explosions,” you say with a chuckle. “But I reckon Bakugo’s got more up his sleeve than just brute force. I’ll have to be on me toes next time.”

“Next time?” Ochaco giggles. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that.”

As you step out of the classroom and into the cool afternoon air, you feel lighter than you did this morning. Maybe it’s the victory, or maybe it’s just the relief of surviving your first day, but for the first time since you arrived in Japan, you feel like you might actually belong here.

It’s just the beginning, you think to yourself, glancing back at the towering school behind you.

And with a small smile, you step forward, ready for whatever comes next.

It had been a few months since your chaotic first day at U.A., and life had become a strange mix of normal and, well, still chaotic. You’d settled into your role in Class 1-A, made some friends, and even managed to navigate your way through most of the Japanese language barrier. But there was one thing you still hadn’t quite figured out: Bakugo Katsuki.

Your relationship with him was complicated, to say the least. On one hand, he was still loud, brash, and always seemed ready to pick a fight. On the other hand, he’d stopped openly berating you every chance he got, and while you’d never call him friendly, he was… less hostile than before.

You were sitting in the common room one afternoon, chatting with Mina, Ochaco, and Momo during a break. The conversation was light, drifting from gossip to training stories, until Mina brought up something you weren’t prepared for.

“So,” she started, her voice taking on that teasing tone she always used when she was about to stir up trouble. “Have you noticed anything… different about Bakugo lately?”

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “Different? Like what?”

Mina leaned forward, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I don’t know, maybe how he doesn’t yell at you as much? Or how he actually listens when you talk? He’s definitely warming up to you.”

Ochaco grinned, nodding along. “It’s true! He’s not nearly as aggressive toward you anymore. And I’ve seen him watching you during training.”

You blink again, utterly baffled. “W-watchin’ me? Nah, yer ‘avin’ a laugh.”

Momo, who had been quietly sipping her tea, chimed in with a thoughtful look. “They’re right. Bakugo’s behavior around you has shifted in a noticeable way. He seems… less combative, more focused. It’s almost like he respects you.”

You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. “Respects me? Yer jokin’. We barely get through trainin’ without ‘im threatenin’ to blow me up.”

“Yeah, but that’s just how he is!” Mina laughed. “For Bakugo, that’s like a love language.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your face flush with heat. “Whoa, hold up. ‘Love language’? Yer not seriously suggestin’—?”

Ochaco giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed! He’s been way less explosive with you lately. And it’s not just that. There’s a vibe, you know?”

You shook your head adamantly, crossing your arms over your chest. “No way. No bloody way. Bakugo doesn’t like me. He barely tolerates me. He’s always barkin’ orders or glarin’ at me like I’ve done somethin’ wrong.”

Mina waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, he definitely glares, but maybe he’s just frustrated ‘cause he doesn’t know how to act around you. You know how he is—he’s bad at this kind of stuff.”

You stared at them, dumbfounded. “Y’really think Bakugo’s softenin’ up to me? Like… that way?”

“Absolutely,” Mina said, her grin widening. “Trust me, I’ve got a sixth sense for these things.”

Ochaco giggled again. “Yeah, and we’ve all seen how he interacts with you compared to everyone else. He might not know how to be nice, but he’s definitely different with you.”

You shook your head, still refusing to believe it. “Nah, y’lot must be seein’ things. Me and Bakugo, we’re still… tense. He’s still rough around the edges, and it’s not like we have nice, friendly chats or anythin’. Half the time, I’m dodgin’ his attacks or tryin’ to avoid a full-blown argument.”

Momo set her cup down gently and gave you a calm, knowing smile. “It’s not always about what’s on the surface. Bakugo is difficult to read, but he’s not as closed off as he seems. There’s a reason he hasn’t been as harsh with you lately. He respects you, and that respect could easily grow into something more.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. It all sounded so ridiculous. Bakugo? Liking you? In a romantic way? You didn’t know what was crazier—the idea itself, or the fact that these girls were convinced it was true.

Mina poked your arm, bringing your attention back to her. “You’ve gotta admit, it makes sense, right? You’re one of the few people who can actually stand up to him and not get blown to bits.”

Ochaco nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! He’s probably just not used to someone who can keep up with him like you do.”

You frowned, still unsure. Sure, Bakugo had calmed down a bit around you over the months, but that didn’t mean anything romantic was going on. Right?

“I dunno, girls. He’s still Bakugo. And let’s be real, the guy can barely stand havin’ a civil conversation with me, let alone somethin’ more. Plus, he’s way too focused on becomin’ the Number One Hero to even think about stuff like… relationships.”

Mina gave you a sly smile. “You’d be surprised. The toughest ones are usually the ones who fall the hardest.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, the door to the common room slammed open. Speak of the devil.

Bakugo strode in, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual scowl plastered across his face. His crimson eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on you. He didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes like he was trying to size you up for some unknown reason.

You tensed instinctively, bracing yourself for whatever snide remark he might throw your way. Instead, he just huffed, turned on his heel, and walked out as quickly as he’d come in, his footsteps heavy with irritation.

The second he was out of earshot, Mina burst into laughter. “See?! Did you see that look? Oh, he’s definitely got it bad.”

Your jaw dropped. “That’s what yer callin’ interest? He looked like he wanted to bite me head off!”

Ochaco giggled again, shaking her head. “No, no, that was totally his awkward ‘I don’t know how to talk to you’ look. It’s classic Bakugo.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Yer all mad. Absolutely mad.”

Momo chuckled softly. “Maybe. But don’t be so quick to dismiss it. You might be surprised by what Bakugo is capable of when it comes to emotions.”

You peeked out from between your fingers, still feeling embarrassed but also a little intrigued despite yourself. Could they really be right? Was Bakugo actually starting to… warm up to you? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

But as you replayed the interactions between the two of you over the past few months in your mind, you had to admit… something had changed. Whether it was respect or something deeper, you weren’t sure.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Alright, fine. Maybe there’s somethin’ different goin’ on. But don’t go gettin’ any ideas. We’re still more likely to end up yellin’ at each other than havin’ a nice chat.”

Mina grinned. “We’ll see. We’ll see.”

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptadoodledoo; land o Goshen, this was a tough one, so thanks for sticking with me]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) 12: family (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

Breach imminent

MH

Sherlock groans, shoving his phone between couch cushions and drawing a sleeping Rosie closer to him. 

'Bad news?' John asks from his chair. He looks over his reading glasses at where Sherlock is curled around his daughter, and feels affection sting so hard in his chest that he absently rubs at it.

'The worst,' Sherlock answers sullenly

John runs through the likely options in his head, then goes with his gut. 'Your parents are coming to town?'

Sherlock opens his eyes and stares at John, his expression full of surprise, then affection, then shammy casualness. 'I have been a good influence on your deduction skills, clearly.' 

John chuckles. 'That, or your brother advised me to clear my calendar and clean the flat.'

'Meddling queen,' Sherlock mutters into Rosie's hair. Then his phone pings again. 

I haven't told them.

MH

John doubles down. 'He knows, I take it? About our… development?' 

'You are doing very well today.' 

'Feelings, Sherlock. I'm good at people and their feelings.'

'Yes, yes, that's why I keep you around. Of course he knows; I let him keep the surveillance up in the stairwell in exchange for having none in here.' 

'Ah.' John had suspected as much, though admittedly he had not considered it at the time of the first (very unplanned) tryst. 'Has he told your parents?' 

'Apparently not.' 

Silence stretches. They've come a long way, but John feels too keenly the risk/reward scenario here, and is undecided.

This time it's John's phone that pings. 

It's up to you, of course, but rest assured: they would be inordinately pleased. 

MH

John's eyebrow quirks. 'Your parents like me?' he finally says, going for casual but missing, and he knows it. 

'You're very likeable.'

'You know, from anyone else that would be a compliment.' 

Sherlock doesn't answer beyond a grunt. It's somehow safe to have this conversation in this arrangement, with the comforting stretch of the room and the gorgeous sleeping toddler between them. They're connected, but not so much as to overwhelm. 

'How much time have we got, do you reckon?' John asks, almost to the air.

'Far too little,' Sherlock grumbles.

'Right, but from you that could mean three months.'

'Yes, well, seeing as your birthday is in two weeks, but tis the season of primroses so they have to schedule us in between, I'm surmising it to be about three hours, in actuality.'

John snorts. 'That's a bit harsh.'

'No, no, they're beautiful primroses.'

'Hang on,' John says suddenly, running back through what Sherlock has said. 'They know when my birthday is?'

'Of course.'

'They care when my birthday is?'

'Don't be daft.'

'I'm trying, but they hardly know me. And what they know of me is not altogether flattering.'

'I said don't be daft.'

John can't stop a frustrated noise. 'Then explain it better.'

Sherlock opens his eyes, considers him for a moment, then he breaks eye contact and buries his nose in Rosie's hairline. 'They know of my affections for you. And that's enough for them.'

John's breath deserts him for a moment. 'Sherlock…'

'Don't let's make a big thing out of it, please.'

John wants to laugh. It's already literally the biggest thing in his life. 'Alright,' he says instead. 'But... let me be the one to tell them, yeah?'

Sherlock goes very still, not lifting his gaze. 'You'd be amenable to that?'

Sod this, it's been long enough. John shunts his reading glasses aside and stands, listening to his bones crick as he crosses and crouches in front of the two most important people in his orbit. 'Yeah, course.' He presses his lips against Rosie's forehead, then Sherlock's, without hesitation. 'Try and get rid of me.'

Sherlock finally, finally meets his eyes, and John feels so much he wants to tackle both of them and just cocoon for a little while. Tell the world to bugger off.

So, of course, there's a knock at the door. Sherlock groans, and Rosie's face scrunches up in the universal expression of, "How dare you wake me up, you rude creature."

'Three hours?' John says while scooping his daughter out of Sherlock's embrace. She needs a change. Maybe he should use that baby magic and let Sherlock's parents do it, he thinks with a grin.

'I am not in control of all variables, unfortunately,' Sherlock mutters into the sofa, where he's pressed his face.

John's mouth curves into a smirk as he heaves up (bloody hell, getting older is not for the weak) and turns towards the door. He wishes fleetingly that Sherlock was behind him, in solidarity if nothing else.

Then, suddenly, he is, his mouth pressing against Rosie's sleep-rumpled cheek over John's shoulder. He doesn't turn to John, but he doesn't have to. 'Into battle?'

John nods, then reaches for the door.

[❤️]

[a-killer-obsession]

It's a SMUT Blog so I'm not shy to ask 😋.. Kid and Killers dicks..how do they differ from eachother? Length and Girth? Piercings? Hair? Circumsized with thick veins? 🤤

I saw this right before going to sleep but I was too eepy to answer, so instead I just kept thinking about it which means now it's gonna be a whole thing *flexes fingers*

I won't talk on circumcised tho cos its not really a thing in my country so I don't know much about it, in all my years of slutting around I never met a circumcised dick, but I'll include some other saucy details

Anway, now presenting:

☠️ Kid Pirates ☠️

Equipment headcannons 🍆

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

Kid

Smallest of the gang in length at barely 7" but built like a fucking monster energy can with a girth that'll split you right in fucking half

No piercings, thick prominent veins. Hes pale as hell and that extends to his dick, with skin that translucent its practically red when it's engorged

I think since he never even has stubble after being in prison that he can't actually grow a beard, so by that thinking I reckon he doesn't actually have much hair on the rest of his body other than a thin ginger scattering. So his bush is bright fucking red and untrimmed but there's not that much to begin with

The biggest balls you'll ever see on a man, he's built for breeding

Decently big loads when he comes, but they're super thick so they don't go far

Absolutely rancid dick tho tbh, it'll have you gagging for all the wrong reasons. Someone get this man in a bath fr

Grower

Killer

Second longest after Wire at 8", slender and fairly smooth, the prettiest dick you'll ever see with a slight curve (like his scythes, ha)

One piercing at the end that Kid convinced him to get, he'll use his devil fruit to vibrate it if he wants Killer's ✨️attention✨️

Slightly darker than his tan skin, pretty in pink at the head

Thick blonde pubes that stand out against his tanned skin, with a lovely happy trail, but he keeps it tidy and clean 👌

Cums a shit ton, long thin spurts that'll cover your whole torso and maybe even get your face if he's pent up. Masturbating is a whole fucking ordeal for him cos of the cleanup

Grower, but impressive flacid anyway

Heat

7.5", somewhere between Kid and Killer's girth, slightly more bulbous towards the end.

Strange colour considering his strange grey-brown skin. His dick is almost purple brown, more purple at the head.

Set of three piercings like a ladder up the underside. Veiny but not as prominent as Kid.

Full bush baby, and its WILD down there. Thick blue pubes to match his hairy legs and happy trail, he's never even considered trimming.

The most average cumshots of the crew, a pretty regular amount, generic consistency, short spurts, maybe long enough to hit your tits if he's pent up. Absolutely drips precum though

Shower (I realise now that word has two meanings. I mean show-er. Obviously)

Wire

An absolute fucking monster to match his height. 10" and THICK. Got into BDSM purely because it takes so fucking long to prep someone to take him that he needed something to spice up the long foreplay. There's no possibility for a quickie with this man, its a whole ordeal (please ask me about my Kid Pirate kinks please please please 🙏 edit: here they are)

Dark brown, almost chocolate at the tip. Veiny as hell. So big and heavy that it can't support it's own weight so its always dropping even full mast

Clean shaved, Wire is a man who takes the upmost pride and care when it comes to his dick. No piercings because his dick is already so massive he's scared the pressure would rip them clean out when he fucks

Hes like a endless fucking volcano when he cums and it's THICK. He prefers to finish inside but it's always so much that combined with his size it simply won't all fit. You'll be dripping for hours afterwards

Shower, I don't know where this man is keeping it in those shorts, tucked for sure

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Uncharted Territory

Billy Kimber’s Daughter

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x Reader Kimber

Summary: Your first encounter with Thomas Shelby, and your relationship between the two of you a month later.

WordCount: 3.1k

Stable, was all you could say about your relationship with Thomas Shelby. Relationships with him weren’t unknown but there were very few who stuck around for longer than just a night. Thomas was one who sought after you, after that faithful day at the Garrison; you shouldn’t have even been there but your father insisted. However he said to stay in the car and wait, after this little meeting with the man who fixed a race; you needed to get your dress for the derby the following evening. Remembering that day like it was the night before.

“Right, he’s the oldest, you’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you cos’ you’re looking me up and down like I’m a fucking tart”

The door behind your father creeks, and he turns his head before lowering it in disappointment. Thomas, Arthur, and John all move in their seats to look at the person, John put his hand on his gun belt along with Arthur.

“you’re just like your mother.”

Kimber notices their hands on their gun belts, clearing his throat and gently pulling you behind him he looks at them.

"I'm gonna have you shot against a pole if you don't take your fuckin' hands off the guns. She means no harm; just insanely impatient."

Thomas noted your small frame and waved for his brothers to stand down.

"Women ain't part of this deal, Kimber." pausing, looking back at you "You and I both know that all too well."

"So, why'd you bring her in the first place?"

"Well, I thought this bloody meeting would be over quick, didn’t I? Instead of wasting time going back home to fetch her for those measurements for the new dress for the derby tomorrow, I just brought her here. Told her to stay in the car, didn't I?”

“You said it would be over by 10, it’s 11 now!”

Gritting your teeth and biting your tongue before you said anything else, but Thomas stood up and asked Kimber to move so he could see you.

"Is this what you handle? All day long?" Thomas stares at you, eyes cold and calculating, before turning the Kimber, his voice low and dangerous."Is she with anyone?"

"Oh, bloody hell no, she's not dating unless the lad can offer her what I've given her growing up... and that ain't happened yet, has it?"

“No..no it hasn’t”

“Kimber I’ve never seen her at the races before, you hiding her?”

Kimber looked at him before smiling

"She stays put where I'm at, see? She don't get the choice to wander when I ain't around."

Clearing your throat, and standing in with your back facing your father. You spoke up about your feelings.

"‘E's fuckin' stupid, that's what it is."

"Another reason why she can’t walk around, she runs her mouth like a bloody sailor. It makes me look bad."

Kimber runs his fingers through your hair and fixed it to his liking

"Oi, what's her age, then? Legal, ain't she?"

Kimber thought about it for a second, before nodding and saying you’re nineteen.

"Aye, you reckon you can handle her, lad? I'm warning you, she may seem calm now, but she ain't one for stoppin' and listenin'. It's like there's no brain up there, I tell ya."

You bit your tongue before deciding it was worth it.

“I have a fuckin' brain, I was top of my math class”

"Sweetheart, I'm just givin' you a hard time about it. I know you're extremely smart with numbers, but actin' proper, is where ya’ struggle."

“Should I meet the description of what you want in a partner, then I shall court her to seal this deal. Sound like a plan?"

Thomas sat back down his chair and pulled out a cigarette and lighter then lighting it.

“It'd be a smart move, but it's her call. 'Cause this is for your gain, not mine."

His eyes fixed onto yours

"Tell me, love, what's your verdict?" Thomas exhales smoke slowly, his gaze unwavering, piercing through the veil of the Garrison.

And the rest was history, the derby ‘date’ went outstandingly well for us. Thomas was very kind and generous with you, your father even let you and him walk around alone instead of being cooped up in the box you normally sit in. The deal was agreed upon after that day and he could see I was delighted to have someone different to talk to besides him or the maids. The most memorable thing of that day was the kiss you shared after he said goodbye to you, it felt real and intimate and not like it was false. Thomas learned you really loved riding horses, painting, and of course cooking. Meeting him felt like putting the last piece of a puzzle together.

Stopping by the Marquis Pub on your way home, well Thomas’s home. One of your favorite bartender Nicolas Tennant was in that pub and you loved talking to him about your relationship with Thomas and how it was going. You felt like celebrating for an odd reason but why ignore it.

“Ello’ Nicolas how’s the family doing?”

Nicolas looked up and stuck his head out from behind the bar top, with a great big smile that could cut through paper.

“Oh, miss Kimber how are you doing today?, and the family is doing well”

“I’m feeling really grand to the point where I feel like celebrating”

The both of you chatted and caught up with each other’s lives and then you asked;

“Do you happen to have a bottle of red wine and Irish whiskey?”

He smiled at you once again before nodding his head and turning around to head to the back of the pub. Suddenly, you felt a sense of despair and pain looming over you and you turn around to see a man who’s about a foot taller than you and drunk.

“I’ll pay you £10 to have you for the night, come on baby what’do ya say~”

“No, thank you. I’m not one of those”

“Every woman is if you pay them enough, come on..”

“I’ve said no! I’m seeing someone!”

"Oi, come on now… I'm tellin' ya, I'm taller than 'im, stronger, faster, and bigger, yeah? Jus' give me a chance, love. Why you wastin' time with 'im? I got the money. Don't be daft, let's 'ave a good time, eh? You won’t regret it, I swear!"

Taken aback by this statement you leaned into the bar top, but you couldn’t move any further. The man wrapped his hand around your waist and brought your hips against his. You put your hands up against his chest and pushing away from him.

Nicolas walked back to the bar top with the liquor in a brown paper bag. Shocked by the sudden change in the atmosphere he spoke up;

“Are you fuckin’ suicidal mate?, that’s a Kimber!”

The man pushed off of you and stepped back, beads of sweat started to roll down his face. He immediately looked at you and got on his knees to beg for his life. It was truly disgusting, you felt dirty. The man noticed your face and decided it would be better if he just left and he did, leaving the pub. Looking back at Nicolas he was sweating as well, he knew that his life was on the line since this happened in his presence. He puts the bag with the bottles on the counter and then says;

“Now, it’s on the house for your troubles..”

“Oh, you really don’t have too, but can I borrow your phone in the back?”

“Sure go right ahead”

The adrenaline rush of what just happened was still rushing through your veins, felt like an adaptation of a stroke mixed with a heart attack. The feeling of being in a state where you couldn’t defend yourself was playing on loop, reminding you that you’re weak. Picking up the phone and sitting down on the desk in the dark and dimly lit back room picking up the receiver and dialing Cheshire 9210. The phone rang twice before picking up and on the other end was Thomas.

“_______ where are you, e’s everythin’ alright?”

“….there was a problem with some guy and-“

You could hear Thomas’s breath exhale when he heard that, cutting you off he asked in a tone that was masking his true nature.

“_______ what’s the man’s name?..”

“I don’t know the man’s-“

You heard a door creek and looked in the sound’s direction, it was Nicolas; apparently he was leaning against the door and pushed it open. Red in the face he looked at you.

“His name’s Lenny Davis, he’s one of my regulars”

Smiling and mouthing the word thank you before waving your hand for him to go away.

“It’s Lenny Davis..”

“Alright, that’s all I needed”

Thomas hung the phone up, you sat on the desk for a couple of minutes before hopping down and heading back into the public space. Nicolas looked like he was already writing his last will and testament. Bless his heart you thought, his pub was a lovely one; maybe you could have him spared since he had spoken up to the man.

“Stop, calm down..I won’t let Thomas go this far”

You said while pointing around the pub, the Marquis was a lovely pub and you loved talking to Nicolas.

“Your all too kind to be in this town”

“I know..”

You stood in the front driveway, just standing there for a bit while look around at the cars to see whose missing. He was..great. But it wasn’t all bad at least you knew Ada was there. Oh how you loved talking to Ada, she could understand the feeling of being a Shelby and having eyes on you as soon as you left the home.

You still were getting used to the Arrow Head House, it was a bit bigger than your childhood home. You’d moved in a week after being with him. He wanted to be able to watch you more than anything. Possessive little fucker.

“_______, where on earth have you been?”

“Ada! Oh it’s so good to see you!”

Ada opened her arms and walked over to you, giving a big hug.

“Whatcha’ got in that bag?”

She asked while pointing to it.

“Whiskey and red wine”

“Did yah buy it?” Ada started to walk into the hallway making a signal to follow. “You know Thomas doesn’t like when his woman buys things for him that he can get for himself..”

Pausing and placing the brown bag with the bottles in it on one of the hallways side tables.

“That’s the fing’ i got ‘em on the house”

“How did ya’ fuckin’ do that?”

“Thomas didn’t say anything about my whereabouts?”

Ada rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“That’s the fing’ you know they don’t tell me anythinf”

Sighing you picked up the bag and pulled out the wine bottle.

“We can mull it over with this, because yah gonna need it.”

“Alrigh’ I’ll be in the den waiting for you..”

Time passes by and eventually you come down the grand staircase in a set of nightwear that had been embroidered with little roses. Thomas got it for you. You joined Ada in the den.

How many of ‘em left?”

“Obviously, Thomas but John, Arthur, Finn, Micheal, Isaiah and Jonny Dogs..”

Ada took a sip of wine, letting it mull over in her mouth.

“What fuckin’ happened?”

You smiled and held I finger up while taking a sip of wine as well.

"I was at the Marquis, fetching the whiskey and wine, and while I was waiting, some drunkard named Lenny Davis started pestering me. I felt utterly disgusted with myself because I could have called out for help. But he took me for a prostitute and kept pushing, relentless. It wasn't until Nicholas returned and shouted that I was a Kimber and a Shelby associate, that Lenny finally backed off."

Ada’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she took another sip of wine.

“Yeah, he’s fucked..”

“You swear they didn’t say anything to you before they left?”

“_______, honey I love you a lot but I told you what I know..which is nothin’..”

Ada stood up and held her finger up before the wine glass down and disappearing into the hallway, you heard her rumbling footsteps as she came back to eyesight. She had a small pink little box with a ribbon tied in a bow around it and it was white.

"Oh, how could I forget. Your father paid a visit earlier to leave a gift for you. He stayed for a little while but then left with them once Tommy got off the phone wit’ yah.”

Ada handed you the box and you placed it by your side.

“He joined them…?”

“I know right, it felt odd seeing ‘em all, for one reason..it looked like a circus act watchin’ pile into the car”

Suddenly you heard the unique sound of an engine purring, Ada and you froze. Looking at eachother’s eyes, both standing up. Ada picked the bottle up and poured the rest of the wine into both glasses.

“I knew this bottle wasn’t going to last this night..”

You heard the car doors shutting.

“Please don’t let there be a lot of blood on their clothes”

Ada rolled her eyes while setting the glass down.

“_______, honey I love you but you always ask for the obvious to not happen.”

“Are you sayin’ I can’t have hope?”

“Hope isn’t a thing if you’re a Shelby”

The grand entrance doors opened with help from the maids. The footsteps only got louder and louder as they all made their way to the den. You looked down at the carpet, then where they would be coming from.

"Don’t you dare come into this room! I do not want blood on my carpets! You and your lot can clean yourselves up outside first!"

Thomas spoke up with a small laugh.

"We weren't planning on bringing him in there, love. Don't worry, we'll sort it out elsewhere."

"You brought him into our home?! Look at the state of you!” then it finally registered that this man was in your home "YOU BROUGHT HIM INTO OUR HOME?!" you hissed, your eyes wide with alarm as you glanced nervously at the bloodstained men entering the house.

This man was..roughened up while they were on their way to Arrow Head..he wasn’t dead but he just..there. The smell of iron started to fill the air causing you to cough a little. Alarm bells rang through your head when you looked at Thomas..his were shaking a bit, knuckles were bloodstained. Your father stepped through the group as his looked at your face, he could tell you were afraid. Kimber fixed his shirt collar. Drenched in sweat, god it looked disgusting. Thomas spoke up and a dry voice.

"My love... he hurt you. He chose death for doing so."

"Get him out of here, Thomas! I won't have you bringing that violence into our home!" You hissed at him , your voice trembling with anger and fear.

"I'm just protecting you. None of this would be possible without me by your side."

"That's not the point, Thomas! I can't bear to watch a man die in front of me, especially not like this!"

"Alright boys, take ‘em to the basement. turning to look at the empty wine bottle and then Ada. Ada, I recommend you leave me alone with _______”

Thomas stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of his actions hanging heavy in the air. His love, shaken and wide-eyed, had just seen the aftermath of his brutal world—a world he had always tried to shield them from. The tension was palpable, the room thick with the scent of blood and the echoes of violence. Seeing the fear and distress etched on their face, Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Look at me.”

"All I ever wanted was to protect you, love. Everything I do, it's for you."

"Thomas... you frightened me. You know I can't bear seeing what those men look like after you've dealt with them."

He gently reached out, his calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. With a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, he guided you into his arms. “It’s alright,” he whispered, cradling their head against his chest, his hand moving to stroke your hair in a rhythmic, calming motion. Thomas took a deep breath, his own heartbeat steady and reassuring. “You’re safe,” he continued, his tone firm yet comforting. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.” He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

“I know what you saw was…horrible,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “This life, it’s not what I wanted for you to see. But sometimes, it’s necessary.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and sincere. “I need you to trust me. To believe that I’m doing everything I can to protect us. To protect you.” His hand continued its soothing motion, petting your hair as he drew her even closer, creating a cocoon of intimacy amidst the chaos. “I would burn the world to the ground before I let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word resonated with fierce conviction.

In the embrace, he allowed you to lean into his strength, to find solace in the arms of a man who, despite his ruthlessness, loved you with an intensity that defied the darkness surrounding them. The world might be brutal, but in that moment, with Thomas holding you, you found a sanctuary where fear had no place. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch firm yet infinitely gentle. The roughness of his palms contrasted with the softness of your skin, a reminder of the harsh world he inhabited and the tenderness he reserved solely for you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the trace of a tear.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “I need you to know how much you mean to me. More than anything.”

With a final, reassuring stroke of your hair, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a thousand unspoken promises. His lips moved over yours with a tenderness that belied the brutal world outside, each kiss a silent vow of his love and his regret for the pain he had caused you. He poured everything into that kiss—his need to protect you, his sorrow for your distress, and the fierce love that drove him to such lengths. His hands slid to the nape of your neck, holding you gently yet securely, as if anchoring you to him in the midst of the turmoil.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in steady, calming waves. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity. “But I swear to you, I’ll always be here. Always.” In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had happened, the kiss was a beacon of their connection, a testament to the strength of their bond amid the darkness.

Author Notes:

I made the little pictures and added smoke along with the little sparkles! Oh my gosh it’s so freaking cute!!

Please don’t harp on me for the phone number and yes it’s at the arrow house instead of the beginning of where they stay, Thomas just made bank after you became a couple.

Love yah!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

My central thesis has always been that the Harkles wanted everything the Wales have and more. I know I remember reading that she cried after hearing William was made Prince of Wales. Right from the get go, her PR was all "Meghan is way better suited to be royal". Then there were all the Commonwealth flowers on her bridal veil and their insistence that they move into Windsor Castle. Now I don't believe everthing Neil Sean says, but his latest video mentions that Megxit was an ultimatum to get Windsor. As that is the traditional home of the Monarch, I feel as though they were attempting a coup.

Then there is the thought that Harry believes that the Dutchy of Cornwall should be split and he should eventually be made co-King or King of the Commonwealth. Let the Wales have that tiny island while they are jetted and feted around the world.

Here's my question for you. Did Meghan and Sparry REALLY believe they could leapfrog over the Wales??? I know her jealousy and envy of Catherine is bunny boiler level and he absolutely eviscerated his brother in Waagh. Has this been their plan all along?? Death by a thousand cuts for the Wales to force them to resign their place in the LOS or that they could somehow convince Charles to make Harry the heir??

I'd like to know where you think the delusions stem from. It wouldn't be the first time in history that younger brother has attempted to remove old brother from the throne.

Sincerely appreciate your blog and all the work you put into it. I'm always learning something new.

I'm pretty sure that was exactly their plan: they wanted to use their popularity to force The Queen to name them as her successors. I don't remember where I read this or when, but allegedly Harry sent "documentation" to someone - to whom specifically I can't recall, but options are The Queen, Charles, William, and/or grey suits - providing evidence for claims that he and Meghan were more popular than any of the others and deserved more than what they were getting.

And if they couldn't get the actual crown, they were going to do their damnedest to try and get a co-kingship with William. That's where Meghan's obsession with the Commonwealth came from; she had been told (again, I don't know by whom - all signs point to Harry exaggerating to keep her interested or maybe Charles spitballing ideas during his 'Magnificent Six' planning circa 2012) that William would rule Britannia and Harry would rule the Commonwealth.

I think that's why Meghan went all in on 'racist Kate.' Not only did she want to knock Kate out of the spotlight, she wanted to do enough damage that Commonwealth/realm nations would threaten to quit and The Queen would capitulate by offering to install Harry and Meghan as new leaders. This actually had a chance of working; it's been said quite often during her last years and since her passing that The Queen saw the Commonwealth as her greatest legacy and there was speculation that she would have done anything she could have to keep it in tact. And had Meghan played her cards right, she and Harry probably could have ended up becoming the main ambassadors of and for the Commonwealth, like a Commonwealth version of the UN Secretary-General.

But where the plan failed, obviously, was that it required blaming Kate for problems and issues that don't exist. Because remember, in 2021 when Meghan was making these claims, we'd just gone through the huge global reckoning that was Black Lives Matter and the agreement during/after BLM was "call racist people out on their BS. Put them on blast. Don't let them get away with it anymore." So not only would Meghan have been perfectly justified to name names, cite events, bring receipits, air the real dirty laundry and everyone would've been so much more supportive of it. But she didn't. Instead she played coy and said something like "I'm protecting them even though they don't deserve it."

Girl, please. That was Meghan's one chance to go justifiably scorched earth and air out all the dirty laundry and she fumbled hard.

Anyway. Let's get this train back on track. Where do the delusions come from? Traumatic childhoods courtesy of Mommies Dearest.

We all know Harry's story with Diana. She was a young, fun, free spirited loving mom larger than life with a neediness that she depended on her children to fill, rather than her own husband or other adults her age, so Harry grew to find satisfaction in supporting and providing her what she needed. He probably saw, and understood, the way Diana received what she wanted by exaggerating what she needed and following it up with excluding or isolating herself until whoever came chasing after her to give her what she wanted. And ultimately this led her (and Harry) down a path that ended up killing her; she exaggerated the relationship with Dodi to get attention from Hasnat or the BRF, then isolated herself in France to force whoever (Hasnat? Charles Wales? Charles Spencer?) to come chase after her. We know how that ends.

That's where Harry's delusions, IMO, come from. He saw how it well it worked (mostly) for Diana - exaggerate her needs/wants, then run and hide until she gets it - so he does it too. He probably started doing it right after she died, when no one knew what to do or how to handle him so they kept indulging in everything he wanted, so those wants kept manifesting bigger and bigger. And I think the way we see the BRF treating Harry is what would have happened to Diana had she lived; eventually the public would sour on her (this was already happening, by the way), which would then enable the BRF to grey rock her, devenomizing her in effect, and move on without Diana having too much of an influence on their day-to-day.

It's sort of similar for Meghan. We don't know specifically what happened (the way we do with Harry and Diana), but we know that Doria was a young, fun, free-spirited mother herself married to an older husband who had other priorities (eg kids from his first marriage). Unlike Diana, Doria probably didn't want the responsibilities of motherhood (which is the vibe Meghan and Thomas have given about Doria during Meghan's childhood) and left. And like the BRF, Thomas may have also overcompensated Doria's absence in Meghan's life by giving her everything she asked for, which made her asks get bigger and bigger and when Thomas couldn't deliver, she threatened to leave him...like Doria did and Thomas, erstwhile girldad he was, just kept throwing more and more at Meghan to keep her happy. Her delusions come from preying on other individuals' trauma to ensure she gets what she wants. The bigger her wants (ie the more grandiose her delusions), the harder she manipulates other people's trauma to make sure she gets what she wants. Which is kinda the opposite of Harry and Diana; they create the trauma to get people to do what they want, whereas Meghan exploits it to get people to do what she wants. Both are skills they learned after being abandoned (metaphorically and literally) by their mothers.

And all of Meghan's PR about "young mother," I think it's more insidious than that. Yes, it's a very overt evocation of Diana's narrative. Yes, it's a judgement against Kate. But it is also digs at Doria. "See? Motherhood is hard but I'm prioritizing my kid. How dare you to have left me" kind of spiteful digs meant to shame her for whatever happened that caused her to disappear. Meghan is the kind of person who must always have the last word, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's been targeting or belitting Doria about not knowing certain things about Archie/Lili because she wasn't around when Meghan was that age.

So...yeah.

I've realized now that this is the third or fourth Wednesday in a row that I write these super long analytical/in this essay I will posts. I guess Wednesdays are my thinking days...

[wild-west-wind]

Hi 👋As a Park Ranger (interpretative, like me?), I assume you know all about how the NPS was formed- most of the land was brutally, illegally taken from the local tribes. I've been having a moral dilemma about my role in the national park system. I love educating the public and being a positive influence, but am I upholding an oppressive system? I know that if I were to switch to education or to museums, it'd be the same question. What I'm asking is: how do you reconcile with that?

I mean, this is true of all the land in the US, so it's bigger than the park service.

Before I dig into this as a white person, here's what Deb Haaland has to say:

I think that the Park Service has a lot to reckon with historically, and I think parks lately are showing some interest in trying to do that. From big parks like Yellowstone bringing diverse Indigenous stakeholders to to table on management decisions while also supplying buffalo to regrow and strengthen herds thousands of miles away, to Canyon de Chelly's requirement that tourists travel into the canyon only with a Navajo guide in recognition of the location's sacred nature, to Pipestone National Monument celebrating ongoing traditional pipestone quarrying, to advocacy for protection by the Department of the Interior at Bears Ears.

As a (pretty much entirely) white interp ranger, I understand that I'm living in someone else's home, but I was living in someone else's home when I lived in LA too, and none of that is unique to the US. And honestly I think, for the tremendous flaws of the National Park idea, at least we try to preserve things. In a lot of colonial nations that hasn't been the case.

I think more National Park Sites should form better relationships with local tribal governments, and see what they want. Different people have different relationships with different places, and will want different things. I think the Park Service should open the door to co management more, and encourage more opportunities for Indigenous people to tell their own stories and not leave it all in the hands of randos like us. I think we're moving the right direction in that regard.

The fact of the matter, in the end, is that none of this begins or ends with the Park Service. It's a puzzle piece, a tool used to enact, enforce, repair, undo, and uphold the ideals of a nation that has never effectively dealt with its past, present, or future. I think protecting land from development and preserving natural spaces is a valuable, albeit naive, goal. It can't be done in a vacuum though. As I look toward a future of the National Parks, I see a lot more Native involvement in their management. That will look different in each site, in reflection of the different cultures there. I can't speak to what that will look like for anywhere in particular, but it is happening already, and as educators it's part of our job to explain the whys and hows of that to people who don't get it, and who think sharing will mean losing something they love. At the end of the day, that thing they loved was broken, and there is good momentum behind fixing it, and most people can understand that given time.

I think it's good that you feel guilty. It means you're paying attention. I think the important thing now is to turn that into momentum and passion. Figure out what you can do and do it.

[charlidos]

Viggo has published two of the photos he took of Orlando (I'm sure there are plenty more. For instance that "best photo ever taken of Orlando" from getting lost in the rainforest... Will it ever be published? Fear it won't).

Elf Head is dated 1999, and in my mind this was taken very early on after Viggo arrived in NZ, October 1999. If you look at other clips and pics of Orlando in his mohawk hairdo, I don't see that long patch of hair in the neck like in this pic. It's a more extreme version here, less polished. So maybe this was an early version of the 'do.

According to what I've understood, the first scenes with Legolas didn't start shooting until after a week or so of shooting, so I think Orlando hadn't started filming anything when Viggo arrived on set (and started filming from the get go). I think they tinkered with Legolas' costume and wig for a bit at that time. For instance, I'm not sure what that collar is in the pic. Does it look like something Legolas wears in the films? In other words, I think the decision to have a mohawk might have coincided with Viggo's arrival on set. And I think this photo was taken very early on, maybe the first weeks of filming.

According to Orlando, it was Liv who suggested the style, as they'd realised that he'd need to remove most of his hair in order to facilitate putting on the Legolas' wig. But if Viggo had already arrived at this point, maybe he had something to do with it; maybe he even suggested it, and Liv thought it was a great idea.

Viggo used to be a part of the LA punk scene, via his marriage to one of its stars. I don't know to what extent he felt like a part of that scene back then, but I imagine Viggo was not only used to wild styles, hair and dress, but was perhaps rather fond of it. Finding a co-star with such an punk-ish style probably appealed to him a great deal.

Because I see a fascination in this photo. And it's not with Orlando's face, but with the hairstyle, the strange contrast of hair and pointy ears, the form of that skull and neck. Maybe he was intrigued by the contradiction of Orlando's very pretty face and the unruly, almost-ugly hair flap and strange ears.

The title "elf head" is a bit unexpected, considering the only thing even close to elvish about this portrait, is the ears. Certainly, no elf would ever have such hair, right? Unless it's a punk-elf. But maybe Viggo thought Orlando looked like a beautiful elf, no matter what hairstyle.

This photo was taken sometime in 2000, but there's no way to tell exactly when, I think. They filmed so many battles, so who knows which one. Maybe Helm's Deep, with those long, arduous weeks of night shoots, when they must have spent so much time with each other, when no one else in the main cast was even awake. There's this feeling of being in the dark in this photo, or in a twilight of sorts.

Again, there's a sense of fascination here; with the beauty of Legolas the elf, and the transformation from Orlando, the young, pretty, energetic, sweet young man to Legolas, old, wise, calm and focused. Viggo is an artist, so I imagine he's got a sense of beauty when he sees it.

There's also a sense of intimacy, like we're intruding, like we are in Orlando's mirror. Considering they shared a make-up trailer all that time, sitting beside each other, getting ready, not only for battle but for everything, it must have seemed, at times, quite intimate. Orlando studying Viggo, fascinated. And obviously, Viggo studied Orlando back, also fascinated.

I wonder if the photo was spontaneous or staged; did Viggo just catch Orlando putting in Legolas' eyes, like Orlando did every day, or did Viggo decide this was a shot he wanted and asked Orlando to pose?

I can read the added text two ways: full awe and respect, like Orlando really is transforming into Legolas, a fearsome warrior to be reckoned with. Or like it's slightly teasing: to point out the irony of this fey, lithe creature being able to fight orchs. Kind of like you'd pretend to scared of a little kid, acting like a scary monster.

After a discussion with @vamp-ress, I realised something else: these two pics have one particular thing in common, namely that they catch that twilight moment between reality and fiction. That moment when O is still O, but is about to become Legolas (or the other way around). That moment when he's neither completely O, nor completely Legolas. A transitional moment of blur between the two worlds. I imagine this is what caught Viggo's eye, that transformation.

Now, Viggo please show us the rest of your Orlando stash, I know you've got plenty!

And I'm sure Orlando does too..

[conceptofjoy]

you're right abt ultdirk and rosebot because from the commentary of the original team (i haven't read the commentary from the new team idk what they're up to) ultdirk and rosebot were written to be representative of adam and eve which is kind of 😟 esp when you take some of their word choice in the epilogue/hs2 dialogue into account it suddenly feels reeeaaaally creepy. not in the way that i think we should hunt the writers for sport for doing this because taking scratch's history of grooming rose into account it's not exactly out of line with ultdirk's character so i'm not even saying that it would be a bad writing decision. but then i don't want to bring any of that up ofc because 1) there's going to be the people who just want to turn that dynamic into incest porn and 2) i don't want to look like a freak who's reading too much into it (because realistically i could just be way off base) and be mistaken for the previously mentioned category of people

idk the word choice the team/person used to say that bc ive only heard it second hand, if it was meant to be jokey, an unthought out comment, or like a heavy handed heads up, so i dunno what to say w out the context. if its the latter (god i hope) it's a real fuckin interesting addition to the unreliable narrative thing bro's got going on. to be honest, it sort of seems that dirk doesn't want to reckon with perceiving his actions in this way unironically, while simultaneously wringing her of everything she has to give to him and verbally "putting her on a pedestal"/ saying shes a "co-conspirator".

rose believes she has autonomy, she believes she went with dirk out of her own volition, but how much of it was the combined socialization efforts to make her want to serve "the greater good" as well as her falling into ascension/ getting put in that damn bot? dirk needs two seers to win, they dont need him.

pg 612-613

this is the most clear cut excerpt i can make but like . it gets my point across.

[zablife]

And another gif request before I'm done (for today) 🤭

You are trying to make a deal with the Shelbys and you have to get through John first... (maybe Solomons!reader? 🤔)

Afternoon Tea (Partners in Crime AU)

John Shelby x Solomons sister reader

"Can I offer you some tea, sweetheart?" a smug looking blonde asked, gesturing toward a delicate china teapot, woefully out of place in the ash and smoke surrounding you.

You scrunched your nose at him in disgust. "I didn't walk through horseshit for a cup of rosie, you fucking berk! And I was told Tommy Shelby would meet me," you said, clenching your jaw in frustration.

Gazing up at you with piercing blue eyes, the young man leaned back in his chair, taking his time to slurp from his cup loudly. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as he proclaimed with an air of self importance, "He's busy so you can speak to me."

"And you are?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm a Shelby which means I can do what I like," he offered.

"Not according to my boss," you informed him, turning to leave. "I don't think we'll be doing any business today."

Rising from his seat with a sigh he called out, "Alright, no need to be unfriendly. Sit down and let's start over, love. You don't want to talk business? I can think of other things to amuse us."

You whipped around to find him grinning like the cat that got the cream, probably hoping you'd succumbed to his clumsy charms. Attempting to remain calm, you sauntered back to the rickety table with a sultry smile. Tracing the rim of the empty cup with your fingertip you asked, "What did you have in mind, handsome?"

Neck and ears flushing pink, John scratched behind his neck at your forward behavior, unable to believe his luck. "You're in blinder territory. We can go anywhere you like for a drink and then back to mine. I'll show you a good time," he promised, regaining his courage to reach across the table and stroke your cheek.

"S that right?" you asked, licking your lips.

"No one's ever complained before," he said with cocky assurance.

Nodding thoughtfully you answered, "That's what I thought. Pity I have to say no then," you said shaking your head.

His face fell at your words. "You have a man?" he asked with confusion.

"Got five waiting to take your kneecaps for this," you grinned, baring your teeth menacingly. John's nostrils flared and he stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from smashing the china. What were you playing at?

Just then a lanky man with a mustache approached calling out, "Oi, John boy! What the fuck's taking so long with the Solomons girl?"

"Course you're the thick one they call John! Should've known," you said to yourself, but loud enough for John to hear.

"Y/n Solomons, Alfie's sister and the biggest tart in London," John tossed back.

"Reckon you'll never find out cos I don't fuck useless little cunts ," you retorted. His face turned a deep shade of crimson and he tossed a chair across the yard, splintering in two as it fell. You huffed out a laugh at his childishness as you motioned for your men, abandoning all hopes of a civilized meeting.

"Tell Alfie we do business man to man in Birmingham," John spat.

"If I happen to see one, I'll let him know he should make the trip," you said, patting John's cheek before you left with your bodyguards.

"Fuck, this one's gonna be trouble," Arthur muttered.

Part 2--Co-Workers

[chokopoppo]

MONSTROUS REGIMENT. // And the new day was a great big fish. [[ Listen on Spotify ]]

Program notes--and spoilers for Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett--below the cut.

1.Children's Work // Dessa

When the wagon tipped, I prayed over your body I asked God to take the damage out on me Ten years later, he finally gets the memo Sent it to accounting and knocked out my front teeth

'She hadn't set out to be an ornithologist. But birds brought Paul alive. All the...slowness in the rest of his thinking became a flash of lightning in the presence of birds. Suddenly he knew their names, habits, and habitats, could whistle their songs, and, after Polly had saved up for a box of paints off a traveler at the inn, had painted a picture of a wren so real you could hear it.'

OR

'...well, yes. She'd heard the song, too. So what? Paul was her brother. She'd always kept an eye on him, even when she was small. Mother was always busy, everyone was always busy at The Duchess, so Polly had become a big sister to a brother fifteen months older than she. She'd taught him to blow his nose, taught him how to form letters, went and found him when crueler boys had got him lost in the woods. Running after Paul was a duty that had become a habit.'

2. Barnacled Warship // Johnny Flynn

Well, I left home three days ago I feel like going to bed Open the courts and a new religion Burning through my head

' "All the good bits in this country are in this tent," said the voice of Wazzer.

'Embarrassed silence descended.'

OR

'Jackrum softened his voice a little when he saw their expressions. "Lads, this is war, understand? He was a soldier, they were soldiers, you are soldiers... more or less. [...] Bury 'em decent and say what prayers you can remember, and hope they've gone back where there's no fighting." '

3. The Railroad // Goodnight, Texas

Run, run, run with the railroad Get out of their sight When the engine turns and you've got to move on Then you've got to move on at night

' "I expect you were glad to leave," was all Polly could say.

' "The basement window was unlocked," said Tonker. '

OR

' "D'you know why we joined up?" said Tonker, red in the face. "To get away! Anything was better than what we had! I've got Lofty and Lofty's got me, and we're sticking with you because there's nothing else for us! [...]"

"Then go!" shouted Polly. "Desert! We won't stop you, because I'm sick of your... your bullshit! But you make up your mind right now, right now, understand?" '

4. Dig Gravedigger Dig // Corb Lund

I asked about ghosts and spirits I asked him if he ever got spooked I asked him if he ever got haunted by souls, But he reckons that he buries them, too.

'The charcoal-burner and his wife were buried to the accompaniment of, to Polly's lack of surprise, a small prayer from Wazzer. [...]

'Wazzer prayed for everyone. Wazzer prayed like a child, eyes screwed up and hands clenched until they were white. The reedy little voice trembled with such belief that Polly felt embarrassed, and then ashamed, and, finally, after the ringing "amen", amazed that the world appeared no different than before. For a minute or two, it had been a better place...'

5. You're Dead // Norma Tanega

Don't ever talk with your eyes Be sure that you compromise You're dead, you're dead, you're dead You're dead and out of this world

' "Why do you smoke? It's not very... vampire, really."

' "Well, I'm not supposed to be very vampire," said Maladict, lighting up with a shaking hand. "It's the sucking. I need it. I'm on edge. I'm getting the no-coffee jitters. [...]"

' "We've got plenty of tea--" Polly began.

' "You don't understand! This is about... craving. You never stop craving, you just switch it to something that doesn't cause people to turn you into a short kebab!" '

6. We Stand Alone // PigPen Theatre Co.

We stand alone with the bones of our father's breath Retching our souls with the stories of life and death Come pass away on the sinews of our strings But watch your weary eyes and protect thy dreams

'No one spoke at all. The thing was... the thing was, Polly realized, that they were no longer marching alone. They shared the Secret.'

OR

'... Er, your sleeping friend... will you leave her here?"

' "No," said the squad, as one woman. [...]

' "We stick together," said Polly. "We don't leave a man behind." '

7. Bigmouth Strikes Again // The Smiths

And now I know how Joan of Arc felt Now I know how Joan of Arc felt As the flames rose to her Roman nose And her hearing aids started to melt

'She didn't know much about what went on in [the School], but imagination rushed to fill the gap. And she wondered what happened to you in that hellish pressure cooker. [...] If you were Wazzer, dealt a poor hand to start with, and locked up, and starved, and beaten, and mistreated Nuggan-knew-how (and yes, Polly thought, Nuggan probably did know how), and pushed deeper and deeper into yourself, what would you find down there? And then you'd look up from those depths into the only smile you ever saw.'

8. Buzzard Song // Ella Fitzgerald

There's two folks livin' in this shelter Eatin', sleepin', singin', prayin', Ain't no such thing as loneliness And we are young again.

'Polly stared out at the bright, unchanging landscape, empty except for a buzzard making wide circles in the forbidden blue.

' "I'm not sure about that," she said. "But someone up there likes us." '

Additional Context: Buzzard Song is a piece of incidental recitative from the American folk opera Porgy and Bess. The native buzzards of Charleston are seen as an omen of misfortune and death by the residents of the fictional Catfish Row; when one circles at the midpoint of the opera, it is chased off by the triumphant Porgy, who believes he has finally found happiness.

Like many other pieces of music from Porgy and Bess, Buzzard Song came to separate acclaim following its orchestration by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. However, unlike other pieces from the opera, such as Summertime or I Got Plenty O' Nuttin', Buzzard Song never entered the jazz standard repertoire, due to this additional dependence on the text.

9. One Foot in Front of the Other // Emilie Autumn

I've been in chains since I was nothing but a kid We don't know freedom, not quite sure that we ever did Now that we have it, how will we make use of it? We've been committed, now to what do we all commit?

' "I don't want to end up in the School, though," said Betty aka Shufti. "They took away a girl from our village and she was kicking and screaming--"

' "Then fight them!" said Polly. "You've got a sword now, haven't you? Fight back!" '

OR

'Polly remembered what she'd said, hours ago, about fighting. You had to start somewhere.

' "I want to try the Keep again," she said. [...] I'm going to try it, Sarge!"

' "You are not!"

' "Try and stop me!" The words came out before she could stop them. And that's it, she thought, the shout heard round the world. No going back after this. I've run off the cliff and it's all downhill from here.'

10. The Trapper and the Furrier // Regina Spektor

What a strange, strange world we live in Where the good are damned, and the wicked forgiven What a strange, strange world we live in Those who don't have lose, those who got get given- More, more, more, more

'It was a terrible thing. Her mother had been a kind woman, or as kind as a devout woman could be while trying to keep up with the whims of Nuggan, and she'd died slowly and painfully, amid pictures of the Duchess and among the echoes of unanswered prayers...'

OR

' "Ever run across someone called Father Jupe?"

' "Oh, yes," said Polly, and, feeling that something more was expected of her, added, "He used to come to dinner when my mother--he used to come to dinner. A bit pompous, but he seemed okay."

' "Yes," said Tonker. "He was good at seeming."

'Once again there was a dark chasm in the conversation that not even a troll could bridge, and all you could do was draw back from the edge.'

OR

' "I feel sorry for the Borogravians," he said.

' "Me too, sir," said Angua. [...] "Their religion's gone bad on them. Three years ago it was abominable to grow root crops on ground which had grown grain or peas! [...] It means no real crop rotation, sir. The ground sours. Diseases build up. You were right when you said they were going mad. [...] I've had a look around. They're very religious here, but their god's let them down. No wonder they mostly pray to their royal family." '

11. Genesis 30:3 // The Mountain Goats

For several hours we lay there, last ones of our kind Harder days coming, maybe; I don't mind. ... I will do what you ask me to do Because of how I feel about you.

' "... Shall I tell you that Tilda was pregnant when they brought her back to the Gray House after the fire? She had it, and they took it away, and we don't know what happened to it. And then she got beaten again because she was an Abomination Unto Nuggan. Does that make you feel better?" said Tonker, tying the rope to a table leg. "There's just us, Polly. Just her and me. No inheritance, no nice home to go back to, no relatives that we know of. The Gray House breaks us all, somehow."

Additional Context: The Life of the World to Come is the 12th studio album of The Mountain Goats, and consists of twelve poems, each meditating on a single verse of the Jewish Tanakh or the Christian New Testament.

The text of Genesis 30:3 is as follows: 'And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah, go in unto her; and she shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her.'

About the text, John Darnielle has said "...that story is the most beautiful love story I've ever heard in my life. [...] All the relationships in the Bible prior to that are working relationships, but there's people and love in this story." [Source]

12. The Goddess and the Weaver // Spiral Dance

Arachnia weaves, and she weaves so well She weaves a passage where the Gods will fly Athena laughs as she casts her spell While she watches from her loom on high

' "You must invade Borogravia! In the name of sanity, you must go home! [...] Fight Nuggan, because he is nothing now, nothing but the poisonous echo of all your ignorance and pettiness and malicious stupidity! Find yourself a worthier god. And let...me...go! [...]"

'As one woman, as one man, the crowd in the room reached up hesitantly to their left cheek. And Wazzer folded up, very gently, collapsing like a sigh.'

13. Jackaroe // Joan Baez

"I know my waist is slender, my fingers are neat and small But it would not make me tremble to see ten thousand fall" ... The war soon being over, they hunted all around And among the dead and dying, her darling boy she found.

' "Oh, we had great times, great times," said Jackrum, stopping for a moment to stare at nothing. "He never got promoted on account of his stutter, but I had a good shouty voice, and officers like that. But Willie never minded, not even when I made it to sergeant. And then he got killed at Sepple, right next to me."

' "I'm sorry."

' "You don't have to be, you didn't kill him," said Jackrum evenly. "But I stepped over his body and skewered the bugger that did. Wasn't his fault. Wasn't my fault. We were soldiers." '

14. The World Turned Upside Down // Chumbawamba

I dreamt all men were equal And there were no starving poor And nations never did quarrel Nor never went to war

'Kissing don't last. Oh, the Duchess had come alive before them and turned the world upside down for a spell and maybe they had all decided to be better people, and out of certain oblivion had come a space to breathe.

'And then...had it really happened? Even Polly sometimes wondered, and she had been there. Was it just a voice in their heads, some kind of hallucination? Weren't soldiers in desperate straits famous for seeing visions of gods and angels? [...]

'All we were given was a chance, thought Polly. No miracle, no rescue, no magic. Just a chance.'

15. The Times They Are A-Changin' // Bob Dylan

The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast The slowest now will later be fast As the present now will later be past The order is rapidly fadin' And the first one now will later be last 'Cause the times, they are a-changin'

'At which point, Polly decided that she knew enough of the truth to be going on with. The enemy wasn't men, or women, or the old, or even the dead. It was just bleedin' stupid people, who came in all varieties. And no one had the right to be stupid. [...]

'And the new day was a great big fish.'

[alipeeps]

Episode 40 (aka Hold me, I am not ready for this!! 😭)

Gods I think I love Xue Li almost as much as Xiao Heng.

And that dude loves her a LOT.

LOOK at how he looks at her. LOOK!!

"Kill Xiao Heng and we'll live happily ever after"... dude, you have completely lost touch of reality. How can you believe for even a fraction of a second that she'd do that, that she'd choose you over him? She just told you a moment ago that she'd rather die with him that be with you.

YES XUE LI!!! Put the next one through his eye please!

Actually no, don't kill him. Let him live and suffer and regret.

"Killing you would dirty my hands." You tell him girl. He's nothing. He's not worth the blood on your hands.

I reckon 75% chance he's gonna throw himself off the battlements anyway. Coward.

Ahahahaaaa he's standing on the edge! Am I right? Am I?

CALLED IT!! 😂😂

Last thing he saw was her walking away. Love that for him.

Ooooh she's gonna cut her own throat on the sword....

Shiiit where's that tumblr image of apollo's dodgeball? I'm getting too good at this.

There goes your last leverage, shithead.

Aaaaand there goes your ability to breathe anything other than blood.

Yeah baby, get your revenge.

Ey up, the wind machine's back.

Hahahaa fucking hell grandpa Xiao making Xiao Heng serve him drinks on the excuse that he was injured saving Xue Li?! I'm pretty sure Xiao Heng was actually *more* injured - he took at least 3 sword slashes in the battle with Lord Cheng!

Okay but now I am really intruiged/worried cos the rebellion is over and there's like 30-odd minutes (and the much giffed scene of Xiao Heng in his armour with the pendant in his teeth) left to go so... wtf is gonna happen now?

Oooh Xiao Heng's going north to protect the border...

Bros 4eva!

Daddy Xue's back? For reals?

"She's got a husband now, how can she go back with us?" 😂

Awww and she's got daddy's approval for this one too! 😁

What do you think she means, Su Guogong, you dumbass? You gotta make that place fit for a wife! 😁

Hahaha Xiao Heng has bluescreened again!

It's kinda disturbing how rare it is in a cdrama for the main couple to get together, both survive and get to happily marry. HOWEVER... there's still 20 minutes and that scene to go!! 😭😭

Also am i the only one that keeps getting very nervous about the combination of wind machine, billowing drapes, and naked flame candles... 😬

Is she gonna admit to pappa Jiang that she's not Jiang Li? I'm pretty sure he already knows...

Yeeeeeah that's a nice lie Xue Li but it's a lie nonetheless. She did suffer and she was in pain. But okay...

I want this to be between you and me - and all the servants that just overheard our conversation.

Shit I thought for a second there he'd stroked out and died on the spot! 😂

This feels like she's saying goodbye to the Jiang family for good. She's married into the Xiao family now and the Jiang family are leaving the capital... and she's not really related to them, she's got no real reason to see them again...

Shijie is just too goddamn good and precious.

Ooft one thing that bugs me about the subs in this is that they don't properly translate titles/honorifics, they translate everything to the person's name. So the significance of her calling him ge is entirely lost to anyone who doesn't understand at least a little bit of Chinese.

(Also they do this with single syllable names which is even more egregious. They translate didi as Zhao, they don't even have the fucking courtesy to make it A-Zhao)

Awww I am sad that the haircombing scene was just her imagination... and I'm also worried that it's some kind of portent... 😭

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEY KILLED LU JI!!!! 😭😭😭😭

I don't deserve this. After 40 episodes i do not deserve this how could you do this to me

Okay but Wen Ji I feel you fam I really do but Xiao Heng needs help!!

YOU BASTARDS!!

WHYYYYYYYYY??!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THIS TO ME?!! Why could they not just have a happy ending? What plot purpose does this even serve at this point?

Oh thank fuck I genuinely thought it was gonna end with it implying he was about to die on the battlefield.

I am dead. RIP me.

This was a fucking RIDE and I LOVED IT.

(Apart from them killing Lu Ji and Wen Ji for no reason 😭😭😭)

[faecaptainofdreams]

~Through the Nomad’s Eyes~

“It's not terribly often.

A few times a month, I'd say -- sometimes less.

Depends how much trouble I get in.

Day is dark with smoke, my vision is full of embers.

My eyes burn, the fires are hot.

Birds chirpin', people talkin' is replaced with screams.

Tall, proud buildings are suddenly collapsing.

I hear children cryin'...

I see dirt roads and pavement painted red.

Stalls and homes fall to stone and ash.

The smell is...indescribable.

Those screams...

It's unbelievable, what...godless sounds come out of a person, when they're bein' burned and mangled...

Or shot...

Or trampled...

Or crushed by debris...

The ground shakes, glass shatters.

It's pure chaos, but it's only a second.

Then, I blink my eyes...

And it's all over.

And my heart stops racin', and the ice in my veins melts.

'N I'm okay.

This doesn't usually happen when I'm somewhere peaceful.

Naw, it's usually when I'm gettin' myself into trouble helpin' folks.

Wherever there's a fire, when I hear screamin', when there's panic.

It affected me worse when I was younger, but I've learned how to push through it now.

It helps to remind myself that it's over, but...I know it'll always be with me.

I'll always be haunted by that day.

By the screams, and...by them gettin' quieter...

By the blood.

By the ash, the flames, the rumblin' of the earth.

By the empty vessels I climbed over -- bodies, people.

People someone loved.

Mothers.

Fathers.

Babies...

I'll always see those faces; sometimes when I close my eyes, they're lookin' back at me, hollow.

I knew some'a them...

People who took care'a me.

That day is the reason I look back, why I can't stay out'a harm's way.

Because I know what happens when hearts grow dark, what hurt and twisted people do to other people.

Maybe I can make a difference, maybe I can't, but I gotta try.

I want to prove that love, that patience and time, can change fate, can tame temper.

I know what it means to be helpless, and when I see someone else livin' that, it makes me ill.

I know that hurt people hurt people, that someone failed them, too.

When I see disaster, I gotta run to it.

I'm sorry...

But I gotta.

Because if I do nothin' even though I had the chance, then it's my fault.

It's not rational, but don't ask me to change...'cos I can't...

Don't feel sad for me, now.

In my heart, I really feel...good.

Yes, I hurt a lot, and I feel guilty.

I punish myself when I can't save somebody.

Sometimes I don't love myself like I should, I don't take care'a me.

Sometimes I think, "It shoulda been me."

Sometimes I feel...worthless...but I really know better.

If I didn't, I wouldn't feed and take care'a myself like I do, and play and have fun, right?

I like livin', I like bein' happy.

...

If I run into danger, and someone comes out alive or better off on the other end because of it, I've succeeded.

If I run into danger and all that happens is I got a whoopin', well...reckon I had it comin'.

Who am I to say what's what?

But yeah, generally, I feel good.

Minus the memories, the nightmares sometimes, I often sleep real good at night.

I can smile, and laugh play and sing and see what's beautiful in life.

This life is painful, and scary, but it's also miraculous.

We're all here on a whim; the odds of us existing are so against us, and yet here we stand.

A universe, cold and empty and quiet, full'a nothin'...

It's such a divine gift to be here, to learn and think and share life with others.

To make new life, to lay down past life, to cry and grow and nurture.

All from the same place, from dust to dust, to one day all return to that same place.

Ooh, it makes my hair stand up!

Doesn't it you?

I see fire...

I see blood...

I see death...

But when that passes, I see joy, and nature, and all of us together.

I see life blooming, new beginnin's unfolding.

I see us learning from what we live through.

The past haunts me, but I won't live in it.

I'll just look back at it -- and that's okay.

It's okay to look back.

I'll just let it inspire me.

Don't try to turn my head when ya see me lookin' over my shoulder.

It'll release me when it's done."

[itsohh]

To Let Go

A/N: Female reader, I take the canon and I fix it (make it worse). This had been stuck in my mind since I finished the campaign. Well after it soaked in. This does focus on your relationship with Soap / Ghost but also your friendship with Gaz. (He's just a great friend ngl)

Summary: A series of small snippets in the throuple life between you, Ghost and Soap. From when you first met through your mutual contact and friend Gaz until the end events of MW3.

Word count: 5005

Warnings: angst, major canon character death, sucidal thoughts, MW3 spoilers.

AO3 Masterlist

The Meeting

2020

The group of them stared at the table before them, Laswell on call. "This is far from home. We're going to need to get help." Price paused and looked towards Kate on the screen. "Got any friends that know Australia."

"A few." Her eyes cast towards Gaz. "You’re in luck, one just happens to live on your back door. Garrick knows them rather well."

Kyle's lips parted and he shook his head before he smiled and folded his arms.

"I'll track her down." Kate nodded. 

"No need, I reckon I know where she probably is tomorrow night."

"And she'll help us?" Soap asked.

"She will if I ask."

-

The pub was a complete roar. It was uncomfortably packed. All the screens had been changed and the thick smell of alcohol filled the air. Everyone's focus was on their drinks and the screens above. 

"This is where we find your contact?" Ghost hated the close proximity of everyone in the building. 

"Yeah she should be right around the corner in a booth-" His voice was cut off as everyone in the pub let out a roar. Drinks clinked and splashed everywhere while people hugged each other. A different scene was set when he slipped into the corner booth. It had been almost completely empty, strange for such a packed pub.  

"Gaz. Long time no see." You didn't look away from the television that was in perfect view. 

"What game is it?" He asked as the rest of the task force slipped in next to him. 

"Bledisloe Cup, in Brisbane."

"Who's winning?"

"Who's your friends?" You countered.

"This is Captain Price, that's Soap and this is Ghost." 

For the first time, you took your eyes off the television and sized up the men. "Captain? Suppose this isn't a pleasure meeting then."

"'Friad not." Price spoke up. 

"Hmm. Sorry, I can't help you. I'm suspended." You immediately shut them down. Gaz's lips parted and his body tensed up. 

"You're suspended?" 

"Uh-huh. We might be allies and all but can't help you if I'm not supposed to be working. Gonna have to find another girl for your situation."

"Why you suspended?" Soap asked. 

You leaned on the table and your head turned towards him. "Officially or unofficially?"

"Give us both." Ghost answered. 

"Well officially…" You swirled the liquid in your glass. "It's a paid suspension until I am reassigned."

"And unofficially?" 

"I taught my Captain the importance of making the right call."

"You punched another one of your COs" Gaz sounded annoyed. 

"This happen a lot?" Ghost asked. 

"Only since they stuck me here."

"For someone whose job it is to play nice with others, you don't do a very good job of it," Gaz said. A smile curled up on your lips as you took a sip from your drink. “Do I even want to know?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

“...Maybe another time.” Your eyes went up to the television and you pressed your lips together as your glass made contact with the table. “Hypothetically, what did yah need me for?”

The men exchanged looks and Gaz gave Price a small nod. Price produced a folder from inside his jacket and slid it on the table towards you. Your eyes found it and you flicked it open like a book. “This is… oh fuck this is Australian territory- this is…” Your eyes darted between the men. “Why the fuck do you want in here- actually don’t tell me. You guys won’t be able to legally get in here. The Australian government will never allow it. No Australian will help you.” 

“Which is why our mutual friend recommended you.” Ghost spoke up.

“Gaz?” Your eyes landed on him and narrowed.

“Laswell.” Price corrected.

“Laswell’s in on this? Hmm, look yeah I know the area pretty well, not like any native but well enough. If you can get Laswell to pull some strings about my suspension I’ll help you out. Even if this is off the record I’m grounded and would be in a lot of trouble if I leave the country at the moment.” You drained the rest of your drink and spun the glass around on the table. Their eyes were drawn to the sight a second before you stood up. “Gaz has my number. Do call it sometime.”

“What about your game?” He gestured to the television above you.

“We already won the series. The outcome of this doesn’t matter. Besides, the mention of work has stained my night.” 

-

Kiss Me

2021

You laughed as Soap sang out on the stage. His voice was horribly off-key but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the pure joy on his face. You had been transfixed on him, just as Ghost was next to you. How could you not? Forget a ray of sunshine, he was the entire sun. Warm and full of light, he was breathtaking in a way that had your cheeks heat up. 

It was so easy to pretend, the way he serenaded you. Truly a performance. Soap reached out for you to come join him and you furiously shook your head. 

"No way MacTavish." 

"Come on. You have been on the couch the entire night and it's not very often we get a karaoke machine."

"Thank god for that." Ghost mumbled next to you. 

"I'm with Ghost on this one. If I had known that you would be trying to get me to do this, I would have shot you lot down at the pub."

"Awww come on, besides you had fun at the prison."

"It was in fucking Tasmania. I hate Tasmania. Get your boyfriend here to come and sing with you instead." 

The pair of them froze the second and exchanged a look. 

"Oh? Husbands then?" 

"How did you know we were toge-"

"Soap we are almost always working. My room’s next to Ghosts. I hear you guys all the time." 

"Fuckin hell." Ghost grumbled under his breath but Soap seemed almost excited by the information. There was a glint in his eyes as his lips curled up. It seemed like they had been trying to keep it a secret. Yet, the way he looked at you, the way both of them looked at you, there was something else to the matter. 

"Heard all that but never bothered to come join us?" 

You let out a cough of shock which turned into a fit. His gaze burned into your skin red hot and you turned to see a similar one from Ghost. 

"You’re joking." You managed to cough out. 

"Negative." Ghost's voice had your hair stand up on your skin with anticipation.

"You’re serious." You swallowed as you managed to compose yourself. You looked down for a moment. 

"Less you don't want to. An't gonna force you."

"I don't do casual."

"Fine by me. What about you Ghost?"

"No complaints here."

"I- I've known you for like four months. Why? Have you been looking for a third is this-?"

"Nah, nothing like that. We like you." Soap sat on the sofa next to you and you could practically feel the way the boys were toying with you. 

"Nothing more to it than that. Don't overthink this." Ghost's voice now came from behind you as you faced Soap. 

"Do the pair of you normally fraternise with teammates?" You mean the words to come out humourous but your voice died a little and it came out as a breath. 

"Only the pretty ones." Soap was quick to reply and you could practically feel Ghost roll his eyes behind you. 

"Ask Johnny." 

"Canni kiss you?" 

"Yeah." 

Soap leaned in, his lips slowly on yours and you were aware of Ghost the entire time. His eyes watching you but somehow that didn't turn you off in any way. You pushed into Soap and snaked a hand into his hair. It gave you a good place to grip as you deepened the kiss. He moaned into your lips, clearly delighted in the turn of events as your tongue sealed entrance into his mouth. 

It was a request that wasn't granted right away as his tongue met yours and messily tangled with your own. Soap's hand landed on your thigh and gave it a decent squeeze but was promptly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Price and Gaz were back.

You separated from him, lips slightly swollen and Soap gave you a knowing smile. "We can continue this later yeah?"

"Yeah."

-

I Love you 

2021

It had been a close call. Too close for anyone's liking. One of those 'life flashing before your life moments'. But it wasn't a bunch of memories of everything that ever happened to you. No, the only thing you could focus on was the voices of your friends, your lovers. 

Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. While you couldn't understand what they were saying you could still hear them. You had been so horribly pinned down. If Ghost hadn't been there for overwatch you knew you would have been a goner. 

It seemed like everyone had brushed it off. After all, close calls were part of the job, but it still played over and over like a broken record. 

The warm bed with both of your lovers had been a sanctuary that you left. The night your mistress as you stared up to the sky. Death had stared you in the eyes and was killed. 

"Can't sleep?" Ghost came up and joined you. He leaned on the barrier but you didn't turn to face him. It didn't surprise you, he was a light sleeper. 

"Cut it a bit close today." You breathed. 

"Saw that."

"Thanks for having my back."

"Someone has to keep you alive." A silence settled between the pair of you for a couple of minutes. It was a comfortable silence that danced well with the refreshing coldness of the night's air. 

"One day this job will take me."

"Takes all of us. Good soldiers don't last long." 

"Your still kicking."

"'M not a good soldier."

"Right bastard you are LT." Soap's voice joined the pair of you and he settled his way to your left. 

"Sorry if I woke you Soap." 

"Beds too cold with our the pair of you." He mumbled.

"Surprised you can tell with your furnace of a body." Ghost said. 

"Oi-"

"I love you. Both of you." Your voice interrupted them and they went silent. "So much it hurts." You look down over the railing. "I could have died today without telling you. That doesn't sit right with me."

Soap whispered out your name and then you suddenly felt his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest and Ghost pressed his chest against your back. Sandwiched in between them you were engulfed in their bodies and warmth. 

"We love you too, lass. Always."

-

Reunited

2022

Your legs burned. Most of your energy has already been spent on the mission. Now every Shadow in Las Almas was out to get you and you really just wanted a warm bed. Separated from the rest of your squad and alone in the dark, you could only hope that Soap and Ghost made it out. 

Any hope to reunite with them had been thrown out the window when your radio broke. It didn't matter if you survived, only if they did. A trail of bodies marked where at least one of them had been. In all honesty, you couldn't tell the difference between Soaps or Ghosts kills. All were expertly done. 

At the moment you could feel it. The difference between you and them. They were the best of the best. You? You certainly weren't bad but your spot in the team was one due to convenience and the information that they needed at the time. They would survive and you would not. Somehow the fact didn't make you was. 

So long as they continued on. That's what mattered. That was the realisation you made as you slid down against a wall. A line of blood painted the wall behind you until you met the ground. The bullet wound that had gone clean through you had been attended to by the best of your ability but it was almost impossible to deal with the hole in your back. 

You wondered if a Shadow would find you first or if you would just bleed out. A fate so many civilians of Las Alma's were given. A blinding light in the darkness had you squeeze your eyes shut. It was like the sun on steroids. It didn't matter much because the second you closed your eyes they became far too heavy to reopen. 

"Fuck it's her. She bleeding bad."

"Get her in back, we need to go now." 

Those voices, angels of their own kind. A weak smile curled on your face and you managed to grasp out while you were moved about. "Johnny." You weakly whispered and put your bloody hand on his face. 

"I got you, we got you."

-

Care

2021

The lights were far too bright but nothing like you had experienced before. A groan left your lips and you attempted to move only to be stopped. A hand kept you still but you pushed away. 

"Stop that else I'll let you bleed out."

"Simon?"

"Scared the shit outta us you know that?"

"’M sorry."

"Should be." You cracked your eyes open to meet his. 

"Where are we?"

"A safe house Alejandro told me about. I patched up your wounds. You've been out for a while. Lucky too."

"That I didn't bleed out?"

"That nothing happened to you while we were gone."

"You left?"

"Had to, the three of us got Alejandro out of prison. The old man showed up with Gaz as well."

"Thank fuck they're okay." 

Ghost continued to repatch your wound and your eyes cast across the room. 

"What's going on?"

"Plans to take back the base." His eyes met yours as your mouth opened. "No your not coming." 

You bit your tongue for a second and nodded. Silence ran between the pair of you, only the sound of the Vaqueros around you chattering away prevented true silence. 

"Thought you were dead." 

"Felt like it."

"You didn't radio in."

"It got busted." 

"You took a bullet for Johnny."

"Rather I take it than him."

"He wanted to stay, to look for you."

"And you were the voice of reason I presume. 

"Don't do that again."

"Ghost…" 

His back straightened up and his eyes narrowed. "Wanted to search the entire city for you."

"That's Johnny for you-"

"-We both did."

"I…You made the right move in the end. Leaving."

"Couldn't lose Johnny as well. Wasn't easy convincing him to leave the city. Pure luck we found you."

"I don't know why you're mad at me. What did you want me to do?"

"You were ready to die there. You gave gave up. Don't ever stop fighting because we won't stop fighting to get you back. Ever. We're a team. Don't you forget that."

-

Roadtrip

2022

It had been hours that the group of you had been in the car. Save for the few put-stops made along the way. Ghost sat in the driver's seat to the right while Soap was on the left. The sun above was oh-so bright while the roads were relatively clear. 

With your seatbelt stretched far, you leaned on Ghost's seat in front of you. There was only sometimes chatter among the pair of you. A comfortable silence settled in and was only disrupted when one of you saw something of interest outside the window. 

The current silence was when your ears perked up. "Oh my god, I love this song. Turn it." You patted Soap's shoulder. Ghost was the one to turn it up but didn't say a word. 

"Fan of Elton John huh?" Soap smiled over his shoulder.

His question was answered by your singing that picked up in the car. A wide grin spread across his face as he continued the duet with you. 

Honey if I get restless

Baby, you’re not the type 

That grin on his face was reflected on yours as you bobbed your head side to side with the music. Soap turned it up a little bit more. 

When I was down

I was your clown 

"An't that the truth." Ghost muttered and you slapped him on the shoulder but you couldn't help but laugh into the song. 

Don't go breaking my heart

I won't go breaking your heart

-

Dance

2023

Soap and Ghost finally made it into the pub where Price and Laswell waited for them. There was a calm relaxed vibe in the room as the two men settled down with drinks in hand. 

"Laswell. Captain." Ghost greeted and Ghost followed. 

"Boys."

"Where's the other two?" Soap asked and Price lifted his glass to point towards the jukebox. There in front of it, you danced with Gaz. Poorly at that. Music blared seemingly louder when the pair of them looked. 

Your head tilted back as you laughed only to duck down under Gaz's arm as the pair of you danced. Ever so faintly they could hear the pair of you sing along. 

Ghost pulled out his seat and sat down, not taking his eyes off you for a moment. Soap did the same and while a piece of him wished that was him there with you- it brought him joy to see you having so much fun with Gaz. 

Ghost's hand settled on Soap's knee under the table. The need for touch, any touch. "Been at it for a while those two have." Price lifted his drink to his lips. 

"Make quite the dance couple." It was rare for them to see Laswell with her hair down, even if it was metaphorically.  

"Mentioned something about not dancing since she moved out."

"They lived together?" Ghost asked. 

"Briefly when she first moved to England from what I heard. Seems the dancing queens have finished up, you can ask yourself."

-

Love

2023

The smell of sex filled the air as you cuddled up to Simon's side. Completely bare, not even his mask protected his face. He looked directly at the ceiling as your head rested on his chest. Johnny mirrored you on the other side. 

"I love you both." You hummed seemingly out of nowhere. Soap cocked a brow and Simon looked down at you. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

-

His End. 

2023

There was something about going as fast as you possibly could and still being late. There was something about trying your damn hardest and still losing. There was something about giving your all and it all being taken. 

There was something about arriving only to find your heart on the ground. Already dead. Just the last to know. 

The sound of the trains ran in your ear. Gaz and Price's voices were so distant even though they were only a few metres away. The talk of a red wire met your ears but didn't enter. You were the first to crumble. 

Your knees hit the ground in shock as your hand shakily reached for his face. Still warm. Still so so warm. You had just missed him. Two minutes early- two minutes and he would have been there. There, safe in your arms, not cooling on the ground. 

"Simon." It was your other lover's name you called. In that moment the small whisper could only be heard by him as crouched next to you. It was all you could say. A beg for him to do something as if he could resurrect the man before you. 

Broken and unsure, he was always the one with answers. The one that knew how to make things right. Not this time though. Tears didn't swell in your eyes. They couldn't. All you felt was cold. Shock cursing through you. No longer were you a hardened soldier but a young woman. A woman who had just lost her love. 

When you finally looked up you found you weren't alone. Anger coursed through Price, a silent anger that oh had never seen before. A violent one that was only controlled by the tightness of his first. 

Gaz had a sadness to his. He leaned down to close Johnny's eyes and you couldn't help the choke gasp that left your lips as he did so. When you finally dared to look at Simon's eyes, his met yours and you saw the glassy layer of tears that threatened but wouldn't fall. 

He was gone. 

-

Home

2023

It wasn't often you left without Ghost. Yet when the group of you silently got back to base, you didn't bother to go to the debriefing. You couldn't. Your body was on complete autopilot as the sight of Soap dead on the floor played your kind

That autopilot got you home. Not to the apartment that you shared with Soap and Ghost but your own apartment.  The one you hadn't been to in what felt like years. Only the odd check-up for the sake of your insurance. 

The door was pushed open and your feet took you inside. Your fingers found the record player and you turned it on. Just like you used to do many years ago when you first settled in there. 

She packed my bags last night, pre-flight

Then you broke. Snapped. You were brought back and you let out a howl. A deathly scream and the damn burst. Johnny was gone and he was never coming back. Every moment had been the last. Only alive in memory, that promising future or his had been sniffled out. 

It's lonely out in space

You swore out and grabbed the first thing you saw- a lamp- and smashed it down on the ground. "Johnny!" You screamed. A horse scream, one from the very pit of your core. The side table was pushed over as you saw red. Tears streamed down your face as you smashed the glass coffee table in front of your sofa. You didn't care that the glass cut into your first when it collided. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. 

The television was the next to go. The DVD player was the perfect object to be filled out and sent into the middle of it. 

Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone

Your CD collection, partially empty now thrown to the ground. What caught your eye though, was the pistol that had been strapped to the bottom of your side table. It had fallen from the holster and in a moment of grief, you picked it up. 

The buzz of Gaz's phone had him pick up. It wasn't often that Ghost called him. 

"Do you know where she is?"

"Went home didn't she?" Gaz's voice was quiet, tired. 

"Not here. She's not picking up her phone either." Ghost didn't need to say that he was worried, Gaz already knew. 

"Well, she could have meant her home. She has an apartment not too far from the base. I can text you the address. I have a key."

"I'll meet you there.”

The apartment building was rather dark when he arrived. In all honesty, the place you picked wasn’t the greatest. A shithole of an apartment complex really. But it was discrete and the neighbours never complained. Or at least they had never complained when he would share late nights with you with the music up loud. 

Gaz knocked on the door a couple of times but didn’t receive an answer. Doubt crept up on him, perhaps you didn’t go back there. Regardless, he had to check. The key slid into the slot with ease and he pushed the door open. He silently swore as he saw the scene before him. Your entire apartment had been completely trashed, everything destroyed without mercy.

A light buzz from your record player hummed in the air but besides that, there was little sound. Or so he originally thought. As he took a step inside he heard the faintest of sobs coming from the kitchen. Gaz was on high alert and his hand went to the pistol at his hip. But when he reached the kitchen his shoulders dropped and his brows softened. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He rushed to your side. You sat on the floor with your back leaning against a kitchen cabinet. Blood ran down one of your hands. “What happened? W-”

“He's gone.” For a moment he thought you meant an intruder, someone trying to hurt you but realisation was quick to cross his face. Alarm bells went off in his head as his eye went to the gun that shook slightly in your trembling hand. 

“I can’t… I can’t do it anymore Kyle. He's gone and I can’t… I can’t bear to be away from him.” 

His head tilted in empathy as tears rolled down your face. 

“I just want to be with him again. I wish we never went down there.”

“We had to, thousands would have died.”

A bitter laugh left your lips and you choked on your tears. “I know it's selfish of me to say but I would have preferred that. Anything to have him back.”

“You know that and I know you don’t mean that.”

“Fuck, I do. I really do Gaz. I love him so much.”

“He loved you too but he wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he's gone.” You shouted out and waved the gun. “I’m so tired. So so tired. He didn’t deserve that. He's too good of a man. I would have given anything to trade places.”

“Your right, he was a good man.” Kyle moved so he was sitting next to you against the kitchen counter. “The best. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so head over heels for someone. For you and Ghost. I know for certain if something happened to either of you, any of us really, he woulda tore the world apart.” Gaz put his hand on your knee. 

“I wish I could  held him,  have told him I loved him one more time.”

“He knew and I think it does matter what he wanted because you care about him. He would want you here with Ghost. If you…” Gaz paused, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words killed yourself. “Hung it in early, he’d be alone. He just lost Johnny, just like you did. I don’t think there would be anything left to him if something happened to you.” 

“I…”

“Simon loves you. He’d be completely shattered. Just like the rest of us would.”

Your tears came down harder but he watched as your grip loosened on the gun and made the slightest twitch towards him. Slowly and gently, he took it from you and placed it on the countertop behind you. Gaz turned towards you and offered you a hug, one you took without hesitation and cried into his shoulder. Messy and wet but he didn’t care. His hand went to soothe your back as he held you tight. 

As he looked over your shoulder his eyes made contact with Ghost’s. His eyes were glassy but hardened as he stood there frozen. “You’re not alone in this. I promise, we all hurting just as much. But we’re a team yeah? We got each other's back.” 

You pulled back from Gaz and nodded. His hand came up your your cheek and wiped away the tears. “Ghost and I are gonna patch you up okay.”

“Ghost?” Your voice was small and vulnerable.

“Right here.” His voice came from behind you and you turned your head around. Guilt consumed your face and your eyes dropped. Ghost crouched down next to you and slowly took your bloodied hand. 

“Promise me that you will stay.” Tears rolled down his face and were swallowed by the lower part of his mask. Neither of you had ever seen the man cry before. “Please.”

“I’m sorry.” You nodded your head and he pulled you into his arms. 

“I can’t lose you.” He kissed the top of your head, his hands were shaking.

-

Call

2023 

“-Yeah, I’m with them now. At her apartment with Ghost. It’s been a long night.”

“That Price?” Ghost’s voice was quiet as he looked over the sofa to see Gaz in the kitchen on the phone. Gaz nodded towards him before he walked over.

“Here's Ghost now.”

“You holding up?” Price’s gruff voice came through the phone and Ghost looked down to his lap where you lay there asleep. You were curled up to him, your hand now bandaged up. 

“I’ll manage.”

“How is she?”

“Better not, almost lost her.”

“Yeah, Gaz mentioned. How bad is she?”

“She's strong, she’ll heal. It will always hurt but she can handle it.”

“Good. When you can tell her to take some time, the both of you.”

“Makarov’s still out there.”

“He is but we have allies and I won’t let something happen to hurt on my watch. She’ll need you.” Ghost gently stroked your head. “What about Johnny?”

“I’ve got the flights sorted, it’s what I originally called Gaz for. We leave in the afternoon.”

“Understood.”

“And Ghost? Take care.” Ghost's eyes looked over your calm face, still there. Still his. Still alive.  

“Will do.”

-

Let go

The cool breeze soothed your body as you watched as Ghost opened the urn and let the wind catch.

Johnny's ashes spread out in a swirl, destined for the water below. Despite all the pain and all the grief you could help but smile. Just ever so slightly. Gaz had been right. It did matter what Johnny wanted. He would have liked this, to be returned home. He would have liked all four of you there with him. 

Kyle gently squeezed your hand and you wiped away the silent tears on your face. It would be easy dealing with the pain and grief but in that moment, you knew things would get better.