#did she manage to emote more with time or it was only with Jerry?

[randomnameless]

If i may provide a lukewarm defense of Jeralt's initial reaction to Byleth, i don't recall there being any proof that Sitri lacked a heartbeat or struggled with showing her emotions to the same extent as Byleth does at the start of 3H; i don't find it unreasonable for him to be much more worried about a newborn baby being completely emotionless and not having a heartbeat than about a grown woman being introverted and stoic most of the time but still perfectly capable of showing emotions, along with having a functioning heart.

The defense ends here btw; him raising Byleth as a mercenary since they were a kid and stunting their emotional growth is pretty indefensible, especially when he could have tried to secure a more stable and peaceful job anywhere else in Fódlan, and the games not realizing how much of a neglectful father he was is a pretty big flaw with his writing.

No problems anon!

To be honest, yeah, it could have been just as you said, a difference Jerry noted between bby!Billy and the Citrus he know...

Sothis guesses Billy's lack of, uh, ability to "emote" came from her, because she was asleep (but then Citrus also had difficulties to emotes and yet managed to emote when she was a grown up).

Aelfie mentions Citrus had a hard time showing her emotions, but she smiled a lot in front of Jerry - is it because "twu luf" made her emote, but given how Aelfie knew her since a long time (they were both kids together?) I don't think it's retcon tied to "twu luf" but more something like, while growing up or interacting with "the world" she emoted more and more.

Still, it's kind of strange, Aelfie tells Billy Citrus had difficulties to emote but emoted with Jerry, and yet, we're supposed to believe Jerry didn't know Citrus had difficulties to emote?

Or wasn't interested in how she acted/behaved/felt when she was with other people than with him?

Because if Jerry knew Citrus only "emoted" with him, would he be so surprised about their kid not "emoting" easily? Jerry never met Citrus as a bby, would it be so strange to think Citrus might have started as Billy, and managed to "emote" better as she grew up? But if he indeed never noticed, as Aelfie did, that she had difficulties to, uh, "show emotions" then indeed, discovering Billy had this "specialness" to them would have been surprising - but in a way, only because he never noticed the same "specialness" in his wife, aka Billy's mom.

However, I'm always a bit puzzled at what is "reasonable" or not in a world like Fodlan, I know the fandom loves to project a lot of irl issues - hopefully we have the in-game doctor/nurse who said it's weird af that bby!billy had no hearbeat - but Jerry, as far as he knows, is a guy who is over 300 years old who got a major crest "after birth", something that is not supposed to be possible. Jury's also out on whether Jerry knew about the cardinal business or not.

So is the only reason Billy's "not normal" because Rhea did something to them, or because, as far as Jerry knows, Jerry isn't "normal" himself?

Jerry knows Rhea isn't "normal" either, since she's most likely older than him and didn't age (unlike him!), and yet he was, per his own words, still pretty chummy with her - but when bby!Billy isn't "normal", it's suddenly super frightening?

I can buy Jerry being afraid and going a bit out of rails after Citrus's death, but the "omg not normal" used as an excuse to run away from the Monastery when he knows Rhea and himself aren't "normal" either and yet pretty much alright really felt... imo forced.

(and the games don't want to tell us if Citrus' ears were pointy or not, or if she had a heartbeat too, we only know Rhea used the crest stone as her "heart" so we're not even sure if Citrus had a normal "human" heart or not...)

[thehighpriestess1]

This new chapter is such an emotional rollercoaster! I just have so many questions and thoughts!

I‘m so happy Gojo comforted reader after her nightmare and it was so cute how he was patient with her and didn’t bother her🥺 And I‘m happy the sneak peak was just a nightmare you scared me there! I just know that he was so happy that reader asked him about his well-being afterwards. They act like teenagers who have a crush for the first time🥺 it’s so cute. I also adore that they chose Jerry to be the nanny.

BUT

It was so wrong of him that he implied that reader is a bad mother. I know he’s overprotective of his son but she’s been managing everything on her own since day one. I think she just didn’t think anything of it. And Gojo is Gojo he takes everything what reader does to heart. Maybe because of his abandonment issues? But the way he ignored her after was just so sad. She even made him waffles as an apology and he sent them back🫣

I’m thankful that Jerry talked some sense into Gojo to prevent the worst. He really is the best character. Gojo felt so guilty that he even ate the soggy waffles😭 I hate how reader still sees herself as only the mother of Keisuke and that she’s only there because of him, but I can understand her doubts because the argument must’ve made her rethink everything :(

I’m just happy that they talked through and that they hopefully made progress. But I hope that the argument won’t give reader any trust issues in the end, due to the Yuri situation. Because I just know that there will be a lot of misunderstandings in the next chapter.

Gojos backstory is so sad. Especially the quote when reader returns to her room „But now you could see the wounded child behind his kind smile.“ This broke me😭 I don’t know if reader will confront Gojo about it but I hope she does. He should know that he’s not alone with all of his burdens. Because reader cares so much about Gojo and I think he doesn’t realise that. And now we finally know why Gojo wants to do everything to be a good father for his baby and why he‘s so scared to turn into his father.

I’m also happy that reader had a friend with while giving birth. I can understand Gojos jealousy though. But I was shocked that he let Hoshi get transferred to South Africa immediately 😭 Will we get to know why Hoshi calls reader Mia? Or was it just random?

I was so pleased that they had their time. But then everything was ruined! Yuri just gets on my nerves. Why is she so foul towards reader? I don’t know how long she has known Satoru for but she really thinks he owes her something. She’s acting like she knows him and deserves him more than reader. ESPECIALLY AFTER THREATENING HIS FAMILY?! I can’t with her. I desperately wanna know if the pictures are real or not. 🫣😭 Or how did she even fake them? Does she really think Gojo would take her after he threatened his wife’s and HIS SONS life? She must be delusional.

I Hope Gojo finds a solution for this mess. And I’m worried reader gets left alone again since you said that you had the same plans for Gojo as Gege🫣

I’m scared of what’s going to come, because how is Gojo going to fix this? I just want them to have a happy ending. They deserve it🩷

Thank you for writing August! It’s such an amazing story🩷

Can’t wait to read the last part!

Gojo can read the reader like a book! Especially when she is going through something and he knows (most of the time) how to handle it. For him she is like a delicate china doll that he must protect at all costs!

Gojo has somehow internalised his father's behaviour but at the same time he hates it. He knows that the reader did everything on her own. He saw the room where she lived and the sweaters she knit for Keisuke so now he feels like it's his turn to do everything (as her husband and Keisuke's father ) . Jerry saved the day. He truly did !

Gojo was jealous blog Hoshi but also insecure because he was there at the time.of birth and he didn't want to risk the reader getting too close to hoshi. All of this is his abandonment issues talking.

Yuri has accepted that she would never get Gojo. But she thinks if she can't get Gojo then no one should. Especially the reader because she blames the reader for Gojo's condition for that one year.

Like I said, the only similarity between me and gege is that we can't/won't let Gojo catch a break 😉

[countlessrealities]

@shctupmeg sent: "So, awhile back Morty killed my parents. So I live with my grandparents now. Yay!" for Morty and Summer (her breaking the news over a picnic of baked goods)

When he had agreed to Meg's idea of having a picnic in their backyard, Morty hadn't expected much from it. Just quiet downtime and awesome baked goods. Summer would have been on her phone the whole time as per usual and he had been planning to keep his mouth occupied by chewing the food as slowly as possible not to directly interact much.

He realised how mean that might sound, but it wasn't that he disliked Meg or didn't want to spend time with her. She was supportive and a great listener, two things the boy truly appreciated, since he had been around people who were the opposite of that all his life.

The issue was that, these days, he always felt a little awkward around her. He couldn't tell if it was because they were dating the same person, or because they were trying to understand whether or not they wanted to be a couple too or because, much his chagrin, he was jealous of her relationship with his counterpart.

Most likely a mix all of those three things and who knows what else.

When it was just the two of them, Morty could set those feelings aside and focus on the present, but having Summer silently judging him from behind her phone made it impossible to.

On top of that, the last thing he would have anticipated was for Meg to drop that bomb on them, with no warning and in that forced cheerful tone.

The morsel of cupcake Morty had been in the process of swallowing went down the wrong pipe for the shock and Summer looked up from her phone, eyes widened in surprise.

An uneasy silence stretched over them, interrupted only by the boy's constant coughing. In the end it was the redhead to speak up, reaching out to slap her younger sibling on the back, to help him not to choke to death.

"Geez, and I thought that my little brother was the slaughterer," she commented, with a snort, sounding mildly impressed. "And your grandparents as in, like, your filthy rich grandparents? The one who got you that sick necklace you show me? That's, like, so rad."

Pity that Jerry's parents weren't as wealthy. She could have gotten a hot funeral picture and being getting to live with someone who would spoil her rotten.

Once he had managed to get his coughing under control, Morty pushed his sister off, shooting her a glare. The crazy bitch knew that she wasn't helping hitting him like that, but of course she had kept doing it anyway.

"Wh-...FM did what?" He stuttered out, sounding much more incredulous than Summer had been. And with reason. The redhead had a point, between the two of them he usually was the more aggressive Morty. "H-How? And...Why?"

He knew that Meg's parents were awful and that they openly abused her without second thoughts. Yet, there could have been plenty of other ways to get rid of them, without his counterpart having to do the dirty work directly. He and Rick had made plenty of people disappear, and he was sure that their other selves had to.

"T-That's...I don't know, i-it doesn't sound like him...?"

Yet, as he spoke those words, even he himself didn't sound too convinced. He knew far too well of what he and his counterpart were capable of. They would have committed every crime for the sake of something they believed in and, even more, for someone they loved. Now, he had been aware that his other self was in love with Meg. He had heard him saying it a couple of times, and it was pretty obvious from the way he looked at her. Yet, somehow, hearing about this particular act was what made the idea truly hit him and he couldn't help wondering what the fuck he was doing, foolishly trying to make a place for himself with them in...that.

Morty's stomach churned as a bundle of emotions he couldn't name grew inside it. He felt like an idiot, reacting like that, but he couldn't help just how out of place it made him feel.

He couldn't stay there with her, nor under his sister's too sharp gaze, anymore. He needed to go and hide somewhere for a while.

"Uh, I...I just...I just remembered that I was supposed to, uh, h-help Rick with...a thing! Y-Yeah! Sorry, it's...I really have to go or-or he'll get mad at me."

And with that he jumped on his feet and dashed towards the house, without waiting for an answer. The cupcake he hadn't finished remained on the blanket, completely forgotten.

Summer stared after her brother retreating form for a moment, before rolling her eyes and dropping her eyes back on the screen of her phone.

"Geez, what a drama queen. Boys, am I right? They just can't, like, handle emotionally charged situations."

{ @advnterccs (Morty) - mentioned }

[a-halfblood-named-coin]

Long Rant Post

Today I am using this hell site for one of its many purposes: vomiting real feelings into the void so that I might be free of them. If anyone WANTS to hear about the, in my opinion, intense bullying of my middle aged, cancer survivor mother at her work place, then please! Stay for my rage and anger.

First, my mom. My mother prides herself on many things, but mostly her honesty. She wears her emotions on her sleeves and will always be 100% honest with people. She doesn't hide anything, she's an open book and always willing to discuss. This is something you would know about her after only speaking to her for a couple minutes, it is a core part of her personality. That is what makes this so frustrating. ANYONE could tell you that my mother never lies, never says anything less that what she feels and would never mislead people. And yet, people who have worked with her for almost 10 years area CONSTANTLY accusing her of all of that and more.

Now, background. This is a small company, like in total about 11 employees including my mother and the CEO. It was started by people that my mother had a close working relationship with over 20 years ago at a different company, they know her and her work pretty damn well. I mean, fuck it, her most recent letter of recommendation was WRITTEN BY THE FUCKING CEO. For most of the time here, my mother has worked a help desk of sorts with one other person, fucking Jerry. Jerry, is a dick. Plain and simple. For literal years, he was on thin ice with the company and almost fired because he would disappear on "walks" or stay in the bathroom for hours at a time. Not to mention, rude to customers, dismissive of their issues and his general douch baggery. I mean, customers have even said they hate talking with him, and hope he isn't the one who answers the phone. The only reason they didn't fire him was because of his knowledge in programming and similar computer mumbo jumbo. Him and my mother never got along, but it was never important.

Then a lot of stuff happens at once.

ONE: I didn't just mention my mothers cancer fight for sympathy points, its fucking relevant. My mother, after 2 months of intense vertigo and walking problems, is diagnosed with a brain tumor. This is, OBVIOUSLY, fucking devastating for our whole family. I remember breaking down sobbing in our garden when she told me, I thought my mother was going to die. Thank fuck it wasn't IN her actual brain, and it could be removed (it did leave her with permanent numbness in her face though, poor thing ). So obviously, that kind of diagnoses requires appointments upon appointments, especially since she had to have daily radiation treatments for months to get rid of the excess cancer cells. She reports this all to her job, and they tell her to take whatever time she needs. It is an extreme circumstance they won't hold against her, like any decent fucking person would. I mean, my mother felt SO BAD taking the time she needed, she did everything in her power to keep her work performance up. I'm telling you, she showed up to a three day conference for work only DAYS after brain surgery on a walker because she wanted to show that she was making an effort. Then the pandemic hits and all the staff start working from home, all they do is sit on computers and phones anyway?

TWO: then, about 1 year ago, maybe a little less, Jerry gets promoted to a fucking position that didn't previously exist (they also hire another help desk employee). Again, Jerry only still has a job for his tech knowledge, NOT because he's good at running a help center??? Who thought he would do a good job at managing people or a help desk in general? The big wigs give this long annoying explanation why they did it, without even considering outside applicants or internal ones mind you, but that doesn't matter. It seems to be connected to the company getting some big money investors and the current big wigs attempts to grow the business. My mother is rightfully upset, she has run several help centers at other businesses, has a great relationship with customers and would have loved to be considered for the promotion. But whatever right? The other bosses of the help desk previously were mostly hands off, just making sure big extreme issues got fixed quickly.

But Jerry's different, he's a fucking micromanager.

He schedules a daily meeting at 8AM, which means that any customer with an urgent issue won't get a response for at least 30 minutes as the entire team is involved in a meeting.

Forces my mother (and only my mother, again there is only TWO FUCKING EMPLOYEES UNDER THIS MAN) to report when she goes to lunch, when she comes back and so on.

Makes them write fucking essays on concepts and present them like a fucking college class and has them complete extra training.

Then complains they don't close enough problems? Oh, I'm sorry, maybe its due to all this extra work your assigning that's NOT IN MY JOB DESCRIPTION.

But don't get it twisted, he is TARGETING my mom. He makes this whole fucking stink about her scheduled hours, which have been like that since she fucking joined the company. Claiming there is nothing for her to be doing that early in the morning (is 7am early???) even though customers are NOW complaining that they don't get answers forever (because they're in other time zones). He complains about how long she spends on issues, aka she doesn't rush them and handles the customer with respect and grace. Questions every single one of her timesheets that she puts through, implies she's stealing company time?? He is literally threatening to fire her because she was 30 minutes late, he calls her argumentative and combative in every breath.

And here's what pisses me off the most, he put her on some kind of fucking probation for all the sick time she took...

I'm sorry?? You mean that sick time she took to FIGHT CANCER???? YOU MEAN THE SICK TIME SHE TOOK THAT YOU TOLD HER TO TAKE???? THE SICK TIME YOU SAID SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT??

Okay fuck, maybe it all wasn't directly related to cancer treatment I can acknowledge that, but it was all genuine sick time or personal emergency? Like when she's up all night in pain and needs some extra sleep, when my fucking sister was in the hospital in surgery, or when my brother needs special exams due to an undiagnosed neurological condition. They are treating her like some fucking criminal for having an awful year, forcing her to take docks in pay or sacrifice vacation time to "pay back" the sick time she took. Is that not fucked up? To tell someone to prioritize their health and then threaten to fire them due to that very same sick time? Like, I won't say they have to do that, but I will say they should stick to their fucking word. This women has put her all into this company, often for no extra pay, for 8 years. Then when she's struggling, when her family is experiencing some of the hardest issues we've had in years, you start to threaten her? What happened to fucking loyalty, respect and morality? No one in the company takes her problems seriously, (There's not even an HR department) and are all sitting by and letting fucking Jerry bully her out of her position. I could sit here and come up with reasons why I think everything is going to shit, (the new investors, Jerry's inferiority complex, the fact that she's the only women around/only person with more than one child, ageism, sexism, etc.) but honestly it doesn't matter.

My mother doesn't deserve this, has done NOTHING less than her absolute best in every situation. Again, I'm not saying the company has to accept it, but the least you can do is reign in the fucking dictator that is actively harassing a women in your workplace. There are ways to critique and change a persons work habits without harassing them, without reducing them to tears on phone calls on a regular basis.

I don't wish ill on anyone, but I won't shed a single fucking tear when Jerry, and all those old white men above him die. I might just take a shot.

[frostironfudge]

Hi, can I request a tom hiddleston imagine/headcanon (you choose) where you're both co-stars in Betrayal and Tom falls for you? Like, you meet on set and as the days go by you both get closer and start dating, etc? Thank you, your writing is amazing ❤

hello! thank you for the prompt! and thank you so much for your lovely words!

i hope you enjoy the way i've written it sort of headconon + imagine mixed together?

----

Word Count: 982

proof read not done therefore some mistakes mat be there

---

- First Meet:

the auditions were completed over a month ago, your agent reminds you of a casting dinner scheduled tonight she doesn't tell you what cast though.

Your mind cannot get out of the reverie for being casted as Emma in the play.

Night rolls in and you make you way up the steps to the hotel where dinner is held, the flurry of flashing lights has you trip on the last step. A hand grabs onto your left arm to steady you,

looking up, you see Tom for the first time in person, he looks concerned.

"Th-thank you." you manage to say, as he walks with you to the entrance.

He politely smiles in return, "the flashes always take me by surprise too," he adds reassuring.

you look up at him, wanting to laugh that an actor of his caliber is taken by surprise by the paparazzi. You chose not to say anything, nodding instead.

He smiles once more and walks alongside you as you both make way to the restaurant.

You work up the courage to ask him is he on the same dinner list as are you, but when you enter the restaurant a woman comes forth to the both of you.

"Ah there are Robert and Emma!"

"Congratulations, Y/N" Tom smiles, a wider grin and you feel ecstatic.

"Congratulations, Tom."

- Before the first show:

You tend to always take a peak at the audience, theatre is your beloved form of showcasing the art you were entrusted with, your ritual was to always take a peak at the crowd.

"Y/N?" Tom had stepped behind you, two bottles of water in his hand,

"Tom?" You let go of the back curtain and your spying.

"Here, I remembered you saying before your last showcase you were parched." He hands you a bottle and you smile at him.

"I believe I said that quiet a few months ago, thank you for remembering."

He lets out a small laugh, looking away, "well they need me back in dressing." he says trying to clear some of the tension.

"I'm headed that way as well." you inform him.

Tom and you fall into step on your way back.

- During the show on broadway:

Scene: Emma(Y/N) admits to her affair with Jerry to Robert (Tom)

There is a shift in Tom's eyes, as though he is immersed much more than he lets himself, he can feel it as well.

The emotion shifts as the scene progresses, you notice him pulling the veil between himself and the character stitched into place.

- After the show at the hotel the team is being accommodated at:

You look into the mirror hanging on the white bathroom wall, "fuck it,"

grabbing your phone and keycard you leave the room and head towards tom's room as you find the pdf sent to you with everyone's room list in your email.

"2609, twenty-six oh nine.." you mumble searching through the floor for his door. "Ah" you stop at the door raising your hand to knock, only for your hand to land against Tom's shoulder.

He chuckles, "Yes, Y/N?"

then it hits you, that you probably over thought the entire process, over thought the way things had changed between the two of you, from banter to a tad bit flirting here and there.

"Y/N?" Tom's eyebrows furrowed, "Is everything alright?"

"fuck," you shook your head

"I'm sorry?" He was taken aback, he knew you swore often but never directed it at him.

"No, not to you, I well, I was worried about you."

"Why?"

"Well today during our scene where I tell you I've been betraying you, well not me and you but our characters..." You trail off gesturing with your hands.

"Yes..." Tom's cheeks redden, he didn't think you would have caught on.

"Well it seemed like Tom was on stage for a brief moment and then Robert came in." You finished.

"Would you like to come in?" Tom opened the door wider. You nodded.

He closed the door and leaned against it, you stood a few feet away, he was grateful because the impact of the next words was unknown to him.

"I did have a slip between myself and my character." Tom sighed, his shoulders relaxing.

"I want to explain why, if you will let me." Tom gestured towards the two chairs in the room near the window.

"I'd like to hear you out." You assured him.

After you both sat down, Tom looked out the window, gathering his words or donning a persona you couldn't tell.

"The past months, we've grown as friends, do you agree?" He looked at you, his blue eyes searching yours for any form of an answer.

"Yes, we have." it was the truth.

"Recently I have observed that the banter we have has been, well, sort of flirtatious?" He let out a nervous laugh and tried to distract himself with a piece of lint on his pants.

"Yes, it has, Tom?" You maintain your eyes on his face. his hair longer, glasses slightly sliding off the bridge of his nose.

He looks up, fixing his glasses.

"Do you want this, us to be something more than co-workers?" You ask, hesitant to know his answer.

"Yes, I would want to pursue us as a relationship if it goes there." Tom runs a hand through his hair.

And the cards you both were holding have been revealed.

"Where does this take us then?" You ask.

"I presume on a date, first?" Tom smiles sheepish.

"It does yes." You agree.

- A few months and various dates later:

You smile as Tom exists through the gates at Heathrow, Loki's premier event just a day away. He smiles as he sees you. Both of you waving at each other as he walks over.

He leaves his bag at his feet, embracing you.

"I missed you." you both whisper as you tighten the embrace.

----

Hope you enjoyed it!

[lola-andheruniverse]

So I just watched 11x09! Pretty neat episode, good pacing, lots of things happened (thank God) and not one to demolished our ship. Yey!

First of all, I'm so happy TWD is back! I really missed this zombie telenovela full of nonsensical action scenes and contrived dialogues hashtag my favourite show.

Nobody asked me but here are my few cents about it, I tried not to be too spoilery and I don't know how to add cut on the app so proceed carefully:

TWD SPOILERS TWD SPOILERS

1. All the action scenes with exploding zombies and all just felt a little meh to me. Like I think they were properly done yeah but I don't get on the edge of my seat anymore. Guess that's okay, too many years watching these fucking dumb zombies to feel threatened by them. TWD zombies got nothing compared to TWD spoilers.

2. Gracie really needs to learn how to defend herself. Loved all Aaron scenes, as usual.

3. Don't have anything to elaborate about Lydia. She's babe and deserves all acceptance and happiness and love and I hope we will see more of her on 11b.

4. Father Gabriel had is chance to talk to the religious Reaper and it was marvelous. Great scene, great pay off! I wish he got the chance to meet Pope as well, but we need to be happy for whatever crumbs this show gives us. He and Rosita..I think she's still mad he left with Maggie to a suicide mission and managed to get back alive but just barely. Girl was just really tired after fighting dozens of walkers in the middle of a storm and really hungry and that's what saved him of a 'cabron, I told you so', fucking stupid man'. They still a strange pairing but they really felt like a married couple with things to discuss on their reunion.

5. Talking about married couples who need to have a conversation cough caryl cough that little hug full of relief and tension and let's talk about it later because we are still stranded but we love each other hug cough. So nice to see Daryl hugging his family, Carol taught him to be a hugger and now he can have all the hugs he wants. He deserves them all. D*nnie reunion was very sweet and not charged with heavy emotions AT ALL. And to think people were talking about a new Terminus hug. They really need to stop exaggerating on spoilers before a caryler has a heart attack induced by stress. Am I the only one who thought it was interesting to not see Daryl's facial expressions when he hugged the Dixon family but that we did see his face when he hugged C*nnie? And the juxtaposition of that scene with Carol and Maggie reuniting? AK we know what you're doing, you're not mysterious at all.

6. They are really keeping RJ on silence because the boy can't act. Poor kid. He's still very cute looking at his apple with his neutral face.

7. We got our Alden question answered and it shocked 0 people. I liked the dude but he won't be missed. Anyways, I thought it was a beautiful scene delivered by Lauren Cohan.

8. Couldn't care less about Maggie x Negan sorry but I'll miss him serving as comic relief. I feel we'll have another Negan bottle episode on the near future and I don't know how to fell about it.

9. All the Reapers are gone except Leah. She'll steal more precious screen time with her drama but what can we do besides pray to have her ass kicked by Carol, right?

BEST SCENE OF THE WHOLE EPISODE: Eugene lonely clapping after introducing Lance to our exhausted and suspicious Team Family. Chef kiss 🤌

Also..where is Nabila and her adorable kids? Jerry, what they did to your family? They = TPTB

And that's it, I'm ready to the Commenwealth bonkers spoilers now. Send them all!

[icecoldwilliams]

|| 𝒀𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔   💜   ✲・*:･ﾟ✲･ﾟ:*  ˚ₓ  

|| my brain has been gaslighting tf out of me with these making me think I posted this collection already but? I can't find it on the blog so I don't??? Think??? I did??? Feel free to call me out if I actually did lol, but anyway!

Nina's disconnection with her own emotions usually allows her to see the bigger picture with a rational outlook. Thus she is actually quite excellent with advice. And by that I mean her advice can range anywhere between deep metaphysical and vague statements that'll drive your muse insane for weeks, possibly longer, to simply bluntly telling your muse that they're a moron. 🙃 She typically saves the deeper more meaningful words for those that manage to interest her. If she doesn't like your muse she will tell them to their face, and then some.

If I didn't already make this clear in my last headcanons post, thanks to a long family line of successful assassins via her fathers side of the family and her own extensive successful career, Nina is richy rich rich. Rich af. She never necessarily feels the need to show off or brag, but assume all her money comes from her work with the Zaibatsu or that she only worked at the Zaibatsu for the pay, and she will absolutely flex on your muse to prove them wrong. c:

She's very detail oriented and curious. She's the type to fix the tiniest of details when she notices them, especially with those she cares about. From smoothing their lapel / dress, straightening their tie etc. to noticing something of theirs broke and almost immediately buying them a new one. Usually without herself even acknowledging that she did. – She doesn't do it looking for appreciation, in her mind she simply notices a potential problem and fixes it.

 Her favorite holiday is Halloween. Not only bc Ireland's Halloween parades seem like the stuff of dreams omg, mostly bc scaring people???? Her wheelhouse??????? Hello????? — Thus it should go without saying that she is an absolute nightmare to anyone that knows her on Halloween. Leaving a decapitated robot head of an Alisa clone for Lars to find is the least she can do, be-fucking-ware 💜

 Canonically Nina is a big fan of Tom from Tom & Jerry. On some rare days off she can be found nursing a cup of tea from a novelty mug, in Tom pajama pants, with the old cartoons on for background noise as she reads a book on her tablet. – Tom is #1, but also you can bet sass master Bugs Bunny is a close second for her.

 Outside of keeping her Aikido and Koppojutsu skills sharp, one of Nina's favorite ways to stay fit is aerial yoga. She will just casually hang upside down in front of you if you interrupt her chill time. Do not.

And finally I recently realized I never mentioned this one here outside of a lil dash com thing so! Yes the blonde bomb does occasionally don full on disguises on her missions, though it is kinda rare for her to. Her own stealth typically suffices for her usual quick hits, but for more complicated jobs that require her to go a little undercover, she may wear a wig, and switch up her contour a bit. Maybe even contacts. — One thing she does more frequently however, she uses pseudonyms almost on a daily basis. A favorite of hers being Diana 🤭💜

[teawaffles]

The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 8 / End

——It had been an absolutely bizarre day.

After Sherlock Holmes and the others had solved the case, that was what the man known to them as Jerry Dorff thought.

Presently, he was walking along a thoroughfare in the city, a piece of paper in hand. He still wore the bandages that had made him a suspect in the arson-and-murder case; as people walked past, his unusual appearance sent them casting dubious and uncomfortable glances openly in his direction.

However, he’d already grown used to such negative reactions. Paying no mind, he continued walking towards his destination, and thought back to the events that had resulted in this curious appearance of his.

——Originally, he’d been a capable businessman: one who had expanded a retail shop into a major commercial establishment. But one day, he was betrayed by a noble he’d thought of as a close friend. He was kidnapped abruptly in the dead of night, shot in a deserted area of London, burned all over while still alive, and thrown into the River Thames.

Yet he survived. After being swept downstream, he regained consciousness; somehow, he managed to climb out the river and save himself. At this point, he thought of returning home, and telling his child and his friend that he was alright—— but the moment he considered that, he stopped.

The man who’d tried to kill him was part of the nobility: an institution which wielded absolute power in this country. If that man knew he’d survived, he would attempt to eliminate him once and for all. On top of that, he could even be placing the people important to him in harm’s way.

As such, the man relinquished everything. He gave up proving that he’d survived, a life of peace, as well as the chance to see his family and friends again. From then on, he never revealed his true identity to anyone, and led a solitary life in the slums under the false name Jerry.

However, just the other day, a mysterious letter had arrived at the inn where he was staying. Written on it was his real name, and some simple instructions.

To summarise its contents: an incident would break out at a nearby inn; he was to get himself involved as one of the suspects; after which, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes would solve the case. Then, once the man had seen that the case was resolved, he was to go to this address.

And in reality, in the case involving the famous detective, the man had indeed been caught up as a suspect.

At first, when he read the letter, he was wrought with unease that his survival had finally been discovered. But if that had been the case, it would’ve been an assassin rather than a letter that arrived on his doorstep. As such, he surmised that at the very least, the author of the letter meant him no harm.

Moreover, the occurrence and resolution of the incident had happened exactly as the letter said it would; from that, it was apparent that this person had considerable foresight. Hence, powerless as he was right now, it would be mean nothing for him to disobey those instructions anyway. Having arrived at that conclusion, the man resolved to head to that address, even as apprehension took root within him.

“……Only being able to go with the flow — just like a puppet on strings, huh.”

He murmured self-abasingly, then stopped. He had reached the address written on the letter.

He was in the heart of one of London’s shopping districts. It was dusk, and the street lamps were lined up like candles on a birthday cake, casting a gentle glow all around. As usual, the passers-by cast strange looks in his direction, but the man didn’t care a whit.

Amidst the stream of people, he stood stock-still, his gaze fixed on the enormous building before him.

This was the department store he had, in the past, guided to success together with his friend. It seemed that a big incident a while back had forced the business to close. But as he soaked in its majestic atmosphere, a sense of nostalgia surged into his chest.

Nevertheless, at this point, he was no better than a recluse. No matter what end awaited this department store — the very one he had watched grow like his own child — that had nothing to do with him anymore. How was his precious family spending their days? That was immaterial to him too.

A firm resolve; and within it, an inexorable sorrow and regret. Perhaps the one who’d sent this letter was hoping to dredge up these emotions within him. If that were the case, then although he didn’t know who they were, he was certain they had rather bad taste.

Carrying a faint indignation, as well as an emptiness in his heart, the man made to leave.

Then, a little further down the street, a carriage caught his eye as it slowed to a stop.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“——Hey, William. You came to my house all of a sudden, picked me up in this carriage, then brought me all the way here — what on earth are you doing?”

As they rode together in a carriage, that was what Helena Curtis asked William James Moriarty seated across her. His elder brother Albert was seated next to him, and their youngest brother Louis held the reins in the driver’s seat.

However, both William and Albert simply responded with meaningful smiles.

“You’ll know it when you alight……. Since everything up till now, has been part of my plan.”

“………?”

She still couldn’t grasp the meaning behind his words; but for the time being, she did as he said and descended from the carriage.

Then, she found herself standing before the place where that brutal occupation had occurred several days earlier, and where she had ended up making William’s acquaintance: that very department store.

“……Maybe they’re going to unfurl a banner saying ‘Congratulations on your reopening!’ or something like that?”

Helena murmured as she gazed up at the building before her. Now, its enormity seemed almost hollow. She had thought of this store as her second home; part of her had been reluctant to see it fade away, but she also understood that there had been no other choice. For better or for worse, she was an intelligent girl.

What on earth was their purpose in bringing her here?

With that question on the tip of her tongue, Helena was just about to turn back to the carriage, when a voice came calling out to her from the side.

“……Helena?”

“——Eh?”

Her gaze shot toward the direction of the voice; there, stood a man whose face was wrapped all over in bandages. As the evening sun shone on him from behind, he looked almost like a demon from a child’s picture book.

Helena was shocked.

But it wasn’t because this suspicious-looking man had suddenly called her by name. What had taken her by surprise, was that ‘colour’.

——A warm, and slightly lonely colour, like clouds drenched in the evening sun.

It was dusk now: perhaps she had simply confused it with the sky? No, definitely not. That colour had certainly come from this man.

Then, the man seemed to have realised something all of a sudden, and turned his face away.

“Apologies. It seems I was mistaken. You reminded me of an acquaintance’s child.”

He said that as if making excuses to someone else, then turned away and tried to leave.

But Helena stared right at his back and shouted.

“Dad! It’s you, isn’t it!?”

Her voice had been clear, and imbued with a strong conviction. The girl’s plea washed over him, and the man looked down.

“……You’re mistaken. I’m not related to you.”

“That’s a lie! Your colour is the same as my dad’s! I’m absolutely sure on that!”

At this point, her voice was already trembling. With all her strength, she dashed toward him. He’d stood there with his fists clenched, and his back still turned; but finally, as if tearing himself free from everything, he spun around and knelt on one knee, hugging his daughter in his arms.

“I missed you so much……”

Helena spoke, her face buried in the front of his tattered, worn-out shirt. Even without looking at her, the man knew tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.

“……It’s been so long. And you’ve gotten so big.”

He too smiled at his daughter, no longer caring about the gazes of the people around him. Just for a moment, it was as if the bustle of the city had faded away, and the evening sun bathed the reunion of this long-separated family in its tender glow.

If only time could stop at this moment, they wouldn’t have to suffer the anguish of the impending tragedy. With that thought in mind, even as he felt a pang of regret, he pulled his daughter away from his chest.

“Helena. I’m glad I got to see you again. But, it’s no use: if he finds out I’m still alive——”

“——You need not worry about that anymore.”

Right then, William called out to him as he got off the carriage.

“……You are?”

“My name is William James Moriarty. I was fortunate enough to have made friends with Miss Helena.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Helena spread out her arms in joy.

“Thanks to William, I also saved Mr Kevin’s life, you know. Also, that noble, Andy — he can’t lay a hand on us anymore.”

“Is that…… true?”

From within the depths of his bandages, the man’s eyes widened, and he looked in William’s direction once again. At that, William responded with a smile full of warmth.

“This may be a bit too sudden, and perhaps you will need some time to process it, but that will not be an issue. We have completely eliminated that which has been tormenting all of you.”

“That…… How?”

“About that, please speak with your daughter in your own time after this.”

The man was more bewildered than overjoyed; but William left only those words with him, and stepped into the carriage once again. Her face brimming with smiles, Helena looked at William in the carriage, as well as Albert seated inside, and Louis in the driver’s seat.

“To everyone in the Moriarty family: truly, thank you. No matter how many times I say that, it will never be enough.”

William bowed respectfully, and then the carriage set off. As he watched the man stand there blankly, and the young girl waving at them as hard as she could, a gentle smile rose to his face.

Seeing that, Albert chuckled.

“So, is this the finishing touch?”

William nodded.

“That’s right, Albert nii-san.”

——Searching for Helena’s father, and reuniting them. That had been William’s plan this time around.

In order to pronounce judgement on Andy at the survival game, they had been looking into what the man did to Helena’s father, when William landed on the possibility that he was still alive and in hiding somewhere.

They had commenced their search right away, but it seemed the man was leading a rather inconspicuous life — his whereabouts were a mystery. Hence, William took advantage of the department store attackers who had fled from the police.

Those men were born and raised in the slums; having committed numerous petty crimes for a long time, they were well-versed in the art of escaping from the Yard. Of course, among the streets they’d grown up in, they were also familiar with the best places to evade detection. Putting it another way, one could take it that wherever these men had chosen to lay low, that same place would be perfect for Helena’s father to hide himself, seeing as he wanted to mask his existence. Hence, as soon as the fugitives holed up in one place, William would probe the surrounding area, and when he’d determined that Helena’s father was not there, he would let the fugitives catch wind of the Yard’s presence, and drive them on to their next hiding spot.

After repeating this a few times, as William had predicted, they finally discovered a man who appeared to fit the bill. He stayed at a certain inn, calling himself Jerry Dorff; but having laid low for such a long time, the man had become extremely distrustful — it would be no mean feat to call him out to meet Helena. Forcibly abducting him was out of the question, and even if they had brought Helena to meet him, he might mistake it as a trap set by the noble who’d betrayed him.

After exploring various methods, William chose to send him a single letter. Written on it was a full description of the incident that would occur — serving as a prophecy of sorts, to show that he meant him no harm, as well as a final notice: hinting that he couldn’t escape the net William had cast. After which, all that was left was to send an anonymous tip-off to the police regarding the fugitives’ location.

Then the detective and the Yard moved to hunt down the two fugitives, and Helena’s father was led to this place. Everything had unfurled from atop the palm of the “Lord of Crime” — and all of it occurred without the slightest deviation from his plan.

As a modest reward, William had been able to witness a beautiful love between parent and child. Sharing a meaningful look with Albert, he called out to his younger brother.

“Shall we, Louis?”

“Yes, William nii-san.”

With that, Louis urged their horse on a little faster.

Now that their twilight-coloured plan had been accomplished, they were headed in the opposite direction from the sunset sky, still radiant with the sun’s last rays — and towards one which was already dyed pitch-black.

When the sun went down, this city would once again be ruled by the darkness of the night. They would continue to race through its darkest parts, and work towards their goal. Finally, dawn would arrive. All the darkness would be dispelled, and a new day would begin: one that would bring people hope.

The carriage continued racing forward in a straight line. As it disappeared into the streets that had begun to dissolve into the gloom, William James Moriarty smiled.

One day, the morning sun would shine upon this world, and the ideals they created would come to life — that, was what he believed.

T/N: …When Helena’s father was revealed to be alive, I was oh my god what if—— and then they did get reunited and I was about to cry… It’s a better end than I could’ve imagined! (tears of joy)

[unsettlingconclusions]

Piano Sonata n08

Pairing: Hana Lee x MC (Riley) Summary:  Riley was no expert in classical music but she easily sensed the tempo was increasing erratically, notes were missing and some of them sounded just downright wrong. It was unlike Hana to play carelessly, disregarding rhythm and accuracy. It could only mean one thing, Hana was furious. Set during TRH3. Genre: Hurt/comfort. Angst? Rating: T Word Count: 1600+ Notes: In honor of the CG of Hana crying </3  This was sitting around my filled with spider’s webs AO3 profile. Written while listening to  Mussorgsky's "A Night on Bald Mountain" if anyone is interested in feeling the pure rage. Fic title refers to Beethoven's Piano Sonata no 8, the 1st movement. The last piece mentioned is Hungarian Rhapsody no 02, by Liszt. Riley stands at the threshold of the music room. The heavy sounds of agitated music pierce the air, filling it with something... intense. Yes, intense would be an appropriate way to describe it. The stiffness in her stance, the way Hana's body moved, her tense expression... all of it screamed rage.

Although Riley was no expert in classical music, she easily sensed the tempo was increasing erratically, notes were missing and some of them sounded just downright wrong. It was unlike Hana to play carelessly, disregarding rhythm and accuracy. It could only mean one thing, Hana was furious.

She had to be. A few hours ago, Barthelemy had just walked out the door of their home carrying away their daughter and there was nothing they could do to stop it. It enraged Riley as well, made her blood boil with fury, her skin burn a thousand degrees. She wanted badly to just bolt and take her family with her, go wherever. But she knew this cluster would follow her anywhere. They needed to take Barthelemy down for good.

So she and Hana devised a plan alongside their friends to do so through Godfrey and everyone would leave for Auvernal in the morning. After that was settled, the heaviness of the day they just had started to take its toll and make way for exhaustion. Once Riley and Hana helped their friends settle in for the night, Hana excused herself claiming she was too agitated to go to sleep yet. She might not have said it with words but Riley was perceptive enough to notice Hana meant she needed a moment to herself.

That was something she could understand. Hana had an overall sweet and kind disposition, but that was not to say those were the only emotions she was familiar with. However, her upbringing did not allow her to properly know how to express anything else and she had a tendency to either shut down or deal with it all by herself, often involving quiet, solitary brooding, and an over rationalizing attitude.

Out of respect for her, Riley gave her space. And a few minutes soon turned hours, prompting Riley to go looking out after her wife; she was not about to let the woman she loved dive into misery land. She took a wild guess Hana would either be by the lake or the piano room, and soon enough the sound of a haunting melody pierced through her ears.

Usually, when Riley would find Hana playing, she'd inconspicuously move closer and quietly sit nearby, enjoying the feeling of being let in into something so intimately Hana's. But tonight she was not seeing beauty or contemplation, she wasn't feeling closer to Hana... She was seeing madness, and one that imposed high mountains surrounding her wife.

The hell they had to face ahead of them was brutal, vicious and cruel. This was no time for madness. Madness wouldn't solve the issue, if anything it would make them reckless, and that would mean playing the part Barthelemy expected them to play. No, there could be absolutely no madness!

"Hana", Riley calls out to her once, then twice, to no avail. "Hana!" She calls again, more forcefully this time, but her pleas were still met with no response. "Hana, snap out of it!" Riley nearly screams this time, smashing her own hands against the piano keys, her body trembling with indignation.

"WHAT?" Hana halts abruptly, shooting an angry glare at Riley. “What do you want, Riley? What could you possibly want that I could possibly do right now?” She goes back to playing a little less erratically this time, her eyes focusing on the piano keys, and Riley could feel her still reeling of anger. “I couldn’t protect our daughter, what’s left for me to do?”

“We get her back, Hana. I need you to work with me on this. Fight with me.” Riley replies, awkwardly leaning over the piano trying to block Hana away from the keys.

It’s Hana’s turn to smash her hands against the piano keys now, pushing the bench forcefully back while abruptly getting up. “I’m enraged, Riley, I want his head served to me with his blood. I want to tear it off myself!” She paces back and forth across the length of the piano room, every inch of her body trembling, her hands picking nervously at the sides of her head. “I want to feast on his flesh and throw him to lions!”

Riley steps up, blocking Hana’s path as she grabs both Hana’s wrists with her own hands, trying to calm her wife down at the same time as trying to tame her own anger. “What do you think I want?” She barks, narrowing her eyes and forcing Hana to look at her. “Do you think I’m not pissed off myself? I’m furious, Hana.”

Hana struggles to get out of Riley’s grasp, but Riley wouldn’t budge. “Let go of me, Riley.” Hana says as she continues struggling. “Please.”

“No.”

“Just let me go!”

“No! I won’t leave you, Hana.”

The anger in Hana’s eyes starts to slowly subside as it gives way to frustration and exasperation. After a few more failed attempts at releasing herself, Hana’s whole demeanor changes and what Riley sees instead is even worse. It’s... despondency. Riley lets go of Hana’s wrists and engulfs her in a crushing hug.

“I love you, Hana. We will get her back, ok? I promise you, I promise you we’ll get her back.” Riley says over and over again, instilling hope or whatever she could in her wife. Hana responds by holding onto Riley for dear life, her body shaking as she starts sobbing. The force with which Hana’s fingers is digging into her skin is verging on painful, but Riley endures it. It can’t be more painful than the ache Hana was feeling inside, then what she herself was feeling inside.

“I can’t imagine not raising her, not seeing her every day, not being there for all her milestones, to sooth her when she cries.” Hana rubs one of her hands in her eyes, fighting back her tears and not entirely releasing her hold on her wife. “What are we gonna do without her, Riley? How are we supposed to do this?”

“It’s not going to happen, Hana. We will get her back.”

“She must be so afraid, Riley, so scared. Just thinking about it is driving me insane.”

Riley couldn’t go there. The thought was unbearable. It was bad enough that someone took away their child, but adding in that he was a traitor and a murderer was too much to handle. She couldn’t allow herself to despair thinking of how scared Aurora was. No, she had to fight, and she needed Hana to fight as well. She grabs both Hana’s arms and search for her wife’s eyes. “Hey, look at me.” Hana doesn’t move. “Baby, look at me. Look at me, Hana,” Riley insists.

Hana raises her chin so as to stare into Riley’s eyes, her own moist with all the crying. Riley moves her hands to both Hana’s cheeks, brushing her thumbs just below Hana’s eyes, wiping away the tears and the pain. She holds Hana’s head in place, trying to convey everything she felt with her gaze.

“Do you remember Olivia’s training?” Hana nods affirmatively. “We use our anger in our favor. We let our love for her drive us.” Riley brushes a stray of hair out of Hana’s face and brings their foreheads together. “We are forged in fire! The higher the flames, the greater our strength. We’ll come out of it stronger. We will make Barthelemy regret the day he decided to mess with our family and we will make him pay! For Aurora and for Queen Eleanor, we will bring him to justice!” Riley said, pouring her heart out with every single word that comes out of her mouth.

Several minutes pass in which they stand in silence, taking comfort in each other’s embrace and drinking in each other’s presence. Eventually Hana sighs deeply, shaking her head as if coming out of a haze. “I’m sorry I got a little lost there. It just felt so overwhelming for a moment.”

“It’s ok, love. You’re allowed to be upset. Just let me in and I promise I’ll always be here for you if you need me dragging you back.” Riley said calmly, keeping to herself the relief she felt in seeing a resemblance of the Hana she knew. She can’t say she ever saw Hana so angry before.

“I love you and I love our daughter. I’m ready to fight for our family with you.” Hana tries a shy smile that ends up looking more a grimace than anything else, but at least the sentiment was there.

“There she is, there’s the woman I married.”

Riley reaches out for Hana again, planting a kiss on Hana’s forehead. She then rests her chin on top of Hana’s head while encircling her on a loose hug.

“You know, when all of this is over, I will have someone make me a life-sized piñata with Barthelemy’s face and we’ll have so much fun trashing it to pieces.” Riley offers, her voice the most relaxed it has been for the past minutes. “I’ll make an event out of it, a holiday even! The trashing scumbags festival. What do you think?”

Hana manages a real if weak smile this time. “It has a nice ring to it, although we can work on that name.”

“I’m thinking hiring an orchestra, go on full pomp and circumstance mode. And I know just the piece the orchestra could play, you know that one from the cat concert on Tom and Jerry.”

Hana makes a face, completely lost as to what Riley was talking about.

“You know, the one tada tadadada dada dada...” Riley goes on making weird noises, mimicking the melody of Hungarian Rhapsody n 2 by Liszt. She knows how Hana enjoys when she goes classical.

And true to form, Hana’s smile goes a bit truer now. “I can agree to that.”

“That would make it very solemn, it’ll be the event of the year.” Riley finishes the thought, grinning slightly.

“Thank you, darling. For making me feel better."

Riley places a quick but meaningful kiss on Hana's lips and grabs her hand, leading them towards the door.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep. We’re gonna need our strength tomorrow.”

[marshmallow-xphile]

My thoughts on the sexuality of some of my favorite X-files characters.

I posted this in my X-files amino back in June as part of a LGBTQ pride challenge and for some reason I only just thought to post it here as well.

Fox Mulder: openly bisexual

Mulder is so open sexually that I really don't think gender matters all that much to him. He does seem to prefer females but I wouldn't be even remotely surprised if he had a boyfriend or two in the past. I don't think he's flamboyant about his sexuality but I don't think he'd hide it at all either

My evidence:

In the season one episode "Ghost in the Machine" we meet an Mulder's ex-partner, Jerry, and I absolutely feel like there is an ex-lovers vibe to the both of them. They hug upon first seeing each other, Mulder looks incredibly happy to see him, when Mulder says they worked together Jerry corrects him to say they were partners at which point Mulder looks over at Scully as if to see her reaction. Mulder has this real guilty look to him. When Jerry acts a little self conscious Mulder is real quick to jump in and reassure him. They get in each other's personal space. It just really leaves me with the impression that they care deeply for one another and broke up for other reasons, perhaps the different career goals as Mulder tells Scully.

We also have Mulder with Krycek. From the very beginning of Krycek's involvement with the X-files I feel like the writers went out of their way to make a correlation between the change in partnership and a new partner in a relationship. There is a scene in Sleepless where Mulder and Scully are on the phone and Mulder tells Krycek he'll be right there, the rest of the conversation feels reminiscent of two exes chatting about the change brought about by the new relationship. Scully even brings up that it must be nice having a partner who doesn't question his every theory.

There were many scenes in Sleepless, Duane Barry, and Ascension in which Mulder and Krycek were alone but that we never got to see who knows for example what the two of them got to talking about while they were stuck in traffic during the drive to New York in Sleepless. Or how often they hung out between Sleepless and Duane Barry.

During Mulder and Scully's partnership Mulder only called her 'Dana' on a few emotional occasions. He started casually calling Krycek 'Alex' almost immediately.

Let us not forget the infamous speedo scene. While yes it definitely showed more of a Krycek attraction to Mulder than the opposite. It does make one wonder what led him to wear such a revealing bathing suit. How many straight men do you know who wear speedos? My guess is few. How many straight men wear speedos when they can reasonably assume their male partner will show up looking for them? Not many would be guess.

And then there is their relationship after Krycek is revealed to be a traitor. They both tend to act more like scorned lovers than enemies and notice that it's Mulder, not Krycek, who cannot seem to keep his hands off the other. Seriously it's like every time Krycek shows up, Mulder immediately grabs him.

Now here's a couple quotes from Mulder,

Krycek tells Mulder he most be losing it because Krycek beat him with one hand. Mulder's immediate reaction: "isn't that how you like to beat yourself?"

When the little man in Humbug is lined up pretty much exactly with Mulder's crotch he says that Mulder would be surprised how many women find his size alluring. Mulder's immediate reaction: "you'd be surprised how many men do as well"

How many straight guys do you know comfortable enough with their sexuality to make a gay innuendo? I personally cannot think of any.

Dana Scully: bicurious

I believe that Scully is sometimes attracted to women. It definitely is not as blatant as with Mulder and I really don't think she's had any past girlfriends but I definitely think that there is an attraction.

My evidence:

In the episode "Ice" I really felt like there are a few tender moments between her and Felicity Huffman's character especially while they were examining one another for the worms. That examination had a sort of sexual energy to it I thought.

In the episode "kill switch" theres a moment where the Invisagoth asked if she could have her handcuffs removed or if she should type with her tongue. Mulder mentions that she doesn't want a vote there and the look on Scully's face and the way she licks her lips, I definitely get the impression that she would have been perfectly happy to see what Invisagoth could get up to with that tongue.

Some people point to Scully's relationship with Reyes as evidence of her bisexuality, I personally don't see any attraction there on Scully's side but I don't think its outside the realm of possibility.

Monica Reyes: Closeted lesbian

This one's probably a surprise I know there was something between here and Brad as well as a flirtation with Doggett so you would probably think she was Bisexual but honestly was either one of those even remotely convincing? To me they weren't. I believe that Reyes is a lesbian.

I kind of go back and forth on whether she's open about it. Reyes is very spiritual and open so it seems strange that she would be in the closet but maybe she has a reason, fear of it affecting her career in the FBI perhaps? It just seems strange that she keeps pursuing these heterosexual relationships she has no passion for unless she is trying to hide her true passion.

My evidence:

I admit I really have very little evidence but look at the relationship between Reyes and Brad Follmer. It had all the chemistry of two people who got really drunk once and cannot remember sleeping together. I don't for a second believe she was ever in love with Brad nor he in love with her.

Then you've got the same thing between her and Doggett. Yes the writers were obviously trying for a romantic angle with the two of them but to me it never came across as convincing. It seemed more like she thought of him as a good friend and figured she might as well date him, I saw no evidence of love or attraction.

On the other hand look at her and Scully. While I feel like the attraction there was one sided I definitely feel like Reyes was into Scully or Dana as she would call her. Reyes was willing to risk her life for Scully and yes that is her job after all but Reyes seems to take that above and beyond and it's not just Scully herself but also William. Look at how protective Reyes is of William in The Truth and of the sacrifice Scully made in giving him up. She seems to care even more than Mulder on that.

Cigarette-Smoking-Man: Asexual

CSM has probably had sex at some point, he is of course the father of at least three children but I do not think that he was ever in love with any of these women or even attracted to them. I believe they were all just a means to an end.

I believe that CSM's only love was for his cigarettes

Evidence:

There is a little bit of evidence that he might have actually felt something for Teena Mulder but I don't buy it. He freely admits that he felt nothing for Cassandra Spender but he must've been convincing if he got her to marry him and we have seen him fake emotions more than once. He also seemed to show an attraction to Scully in En Ami but that too was just a means to an end. Perhaps he does feel something towards all the women he has impregnated but I wouldn't call it love. I don't see any real attraction there either. My bet is that CSM needed some "help" in order to produce his offspring.

Alex Krycek: Gay

While Krycek did have an obviously sexual relationship with Marita Covarrubias he definitely didn't have any real feelings for her and I don't buy attraction either. No I'd say they were both just trying to use sex to get what they wanted. His anger at finding the Russian boy gone wasn't because he was heartbroken at her betrayal. Merely mad that she'd managed to get the upper hand.

Whether Krycek is open or in the closet I'm not sure, I'm thinking it probably depends on the mission hes on at the time.

Evidence:

Of everyone on this list I'd say Krycek is the one I'm the most sure of. There is no doubt in my mind that Krycek was attracted to, perhaps even in love with, Fox Mulder. From the very beginning there appeared to be a bit of longing in his eyes.

There was the speedo scene wherein Krycek was definitely checking Mulder out. There were several scenes where Krycek could've killed Mulder but chose to help him instead.

As I've seen pointed out before, Krycek's crazy motivational choices don't make any sense at all unless it's all in an effort to be around Mulder more.

Look at his sense of style and his obvious love for lip gloss. I am not saying that straight men cannot love lip gloss and dress themselves in Krycek's fashion but it is uncommon and it was especially so back in the 90s

The infamous kiss in The Red and the Black could certainly be explained away as some kind of Russian custom but it isn't one that I am aware of and he hasn't really shown any other signs of his Russia heritage.

I would say my best evidence of Krycek's sexuality is in Essence and Existence, just look at the look on Krycek's face when Mulder trusts him to protect Scully. Krycek knows what Scully means to Mulder and then look at how seriously Krycek takes the job! I definitely feel like that moment meant a lot to him and he would have protected Scully with his life for Mulder.

There's also the fact that Krycek's unwillingness to kill Mulder lead to his own death.

Of course asking Skinner to shoot Mulder goes against this theory but I do have a couple thoughts on that, the most sensical being that he knew there was no chance Skinner would shoot Mulder and he probably knew there was no chance he would survive anymore. Maybe he made that request in hopes of sparing Mulder any pain he might have otherwise felt at his death (I know it's a bit of a stretch but my other theories require a long explanation of my thoughts on where the series had planned to go next)

The lone gunmen: no one knows....not even them

Three (I don't count Jimmy for this) single adult men who all live together in very cramped quarters and are, at least in Langley's case, perfectly happy to be around each other without thier clothes on certainly makes it seem like there's something between them all but I really don't get a overtly gay impression with any of them, even Langley who as mentioned doesn't like to wear pants and is the only one who hasn't had a love interest. They just have this sort of Vegas-esque thing. "What happens in the bachelor pad/newspaper room stays in the bachelor pad/newspaper room.

I would love to hear other people's thoughts on these and any other X-files characters you think might be somewhere on the LGBTQ spectrum.

[anntoldst0ries]

Everything else is just the weather

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: ~5.3k (I sinned!) Summary: Ethan takes Elle out on their “first” date. Category: Fluff Warnings: None

A/N: It has literally taken me ages to finish this fic. To the point that I couldn’t look at it anymore, but here it is. I had it in mind for a really long time and now that OH is back, I feel like I’m ready to show it to the world. As always thank you for your support and I hope you like it!

This fic is part 2 of birthday present for my friend, part 1 is the fan art which you can see here. Once you read the fic, the fan art makes more sense :)

This is my submission for CFWC Silly Love Stories, Day 12: Date night.

Loud knocks resonated throughout the room. 

"Come in!"

"Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”

“Good morning, Dr Valentine. I think you are the only doctor in this hospital with some sort of manners, everyone else just waltzes in here as if it was a damn barn!”

“Hospital or no hospital, everyone has their right to privacy.”

“Thank you, child. Once again, please call me Faye."

"Alright Faye, but only if you call me Elle.” She smiled sweetly, and the whole room seemed to be suddenly lit by a thousand suns.

“How are you feeling? Are the meds making a difference?"

"They are. I am ready to be discharged today.”

"Not so fast. I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet."

“Why would you possibly like to be lumbered with an old nuisance like me for even a second longer than necessary?”

Elle just laughed and shook her head. The ‘nuisance’, as the elderly lady so lovingly put it, was exactly what she loved about her job. She loved spending time with her patients, she loved their stories and their worldly wisdom. It made her sad to see how many of them thought they didn’t matter or considered themselves and their lives boring. To her, they were anything but. 

Many of Edenbrook’s staff members kept asking themselves: what is it about her? She was a great doctor, no two ways about it, and she was a genuinely nice person. But what was the source of power she had over people? If she woke up one day and decided to start a rebellion, patients would have most certainly followed her, even if it meant they’d be leaving the premises of the hospital with naked butts or trailing their IVs behind them. Doctors, nurses, administration, cleaners and security would follow shortly. She only had to say a word.

And how on Earth was she capable of turning Dr Ramsey, the grizzly bear of Edenbrook, into a benign teddy bear with as little as one look? It was beyond everyone’s apprehension.

Had they spent more time actually observing her, rather than gossiping in the corners, the answer would have unveiled in front of them within minutes.

It was very simple.

Noelle was truly curious about people. She genuinely liked them and was determined to get to know their story, for it helped her diagnose them faster and also satiated the young doctor’s hunger for knowledge.

Patients never felt like “curious cases” or “numbers” in her presence. They were… themselves - people with hopes, dreams, fears, pet peeves and odd habits. They were human. 

So little and yet so much.

Those never touched by serious illnesses often failed to understand that sickness strips you of your dignity and becomes your identity. Your true self becomes covered by this weird, annoying sticker that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard you tried to remove it. 

But this young woman, despite the nature of her profession, somehow managed to notice what was hiding beneath this misleading layer.

Had all these gossipers spoken to her patients, that’s exactly what they would have heard.

"What's happening today?" The older lady asked with a flick of curiosity in her wrinkle-haloed eyes.

"What do you mean, Faye?" The young doctor sounded genuinely baffled by the out-of-the-blue question.

"Well, I am no diagnostician, but I believe I am rather observant and you radiate with happiness. Something special is happening today, am I right?"

"Yeah, you are right." Elle blushed like a teenager caught in a lie. "My boyfriend is taking me on a surprise date today, but he won’t say a word about it, so I'm super excited to find out what he planned for us. He usually isn't one for romantic gestures, so the secrecy is killing me."

"Do you think he's gonna pop the big question?" Faye’s eyes lit up with excitement.

"No, we're not there...yet." Elle faked a smile, but a tone of doubt and sadness coloured her voice. They probably never will be, those things weren’t in the cards for Ethan, as he already stressed once.

But once was enough and she didn’t dare mention the subject again.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's got some big guns in store, I would if I had a lady like you." - a male patient lying in the bed adjacent to Elle’s patient added smiling flirtatiously. 

"Jerry, you were supposed to focus on getting better, not stealing my girlfriend." They all jumped when a deep baritone echoed throughout the room, hitting present company like a wrecking ball. She must have left the door ajar or Ethan could penetrate the walls soundlessly, because no one heard him coming.

Exactly how long has he been standing there for and how much did he hear?

"Dr. Ramsey, flirting makes your blood flow faster. Isn't it the very definition of life itself?” Jerry’s tone was brisk and lively.

"Well, it definitely isn't the definition of recovery after a heart attack." Ethan used his authoritative doctor’s voice but knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. Jerry had something he didn't: a couple more decades of life experience under his belt and even the best medical school in the country couldn’t compete with this.  

"Besides, Dr. Ramsey, I don't think that the beautiful Dr. Valentine here fancies old farts like me." 

"That's where you are wrong, Jerry, looks like this is exactly the type I fancy." The two women laughed, however Ethan was far from amused. "Dr. Ramsey is 10 years older than me."

"10 years? What is 10 years in these times? Nothing. When I was getting married 40 years ago, it was something. But today? Look at all them playboys with girls younger than my granddaughter. 10 years is actually a very healthy difference. Men are immature and slower with growing up emotionally. So I'd say you've caught up, Dr. Ramsey, and the two of you are emotional peers now.”

“Thank you for the fascinating lesson in human psychology, Jerry. To think I’ve wasted all this time and money on medical school and no one taught me this.”

“Dr. Ramsey, it’s because schools and useful knowledge are mutually exclusive.”

Elle and Faye were on the verge of bursting out in laughter, but managed to keep their composure and used the non-verbal communication of exchanging glances instead.

Once they made sure their patients had everything they need, Ethan and Elle wished them a good day and promised to stop by in 2 days, as the following day was their day off.

The moment the door closed behind them, Ethan crossed his arms on his chest.

"I lose you from my sight for one second and this happens. 5 more minutes with Jerry and I'd be single again."

"At least no one wants to poke your eyes out for being with me."

"And someone wants to poke yours?"

"Where do I start... nurses, who had a crush on you long before I even set foot in Edenbrook? Female interns? Anyone, who has a pair of functioning eyes and ever looked at you?"

She was adorable when she was doing this, her whole body overtaken by excitement and her hands waving. When she was talking about something really important to her she wasn't just conversing with her mouth, she was doing it with her whole body.

Suddenly, his pager painfully reminded Ethan that this was neither the place nor the time to lose himself in adoration.

"I need to go, I'm completely swamped today and I have my favourite cherry-on-top board meeting. In case I don't see you for the rest of your shift - I’ll pick you up at 7."

He was gone before she was able to form a response. Was it just her or was Dr Ramsey weirdly… nervous?

* * * * * * * *

At 7pm sharp, Ethan Ramsey curled his palm in a fist and gently knocked. The door opened in an instant, as if someone knew he'd been standing there for the past few minutes.

"Ethan! I mean Dr. Ramsey...please come in!" Sienna squeaked with nervous excitement as she let him in.

"Outside of Edenbrook Ethan is just fine, Sienna. If you don't mind me calling you by your first name, of course."

"Mm..mme? No, yes, I mean... Elle is on the balcony." She tried to hide her embarrassment and motioned towards the tall windows surrounding the living room. Some time ago, he would have been oddly proud to have such an intimidating effect on people - nowadays, more than anything, he was amused. Has he really changed so much?

The answer to his question was leaning against the railing, glass of wine in her hand. Gauzy, flowery dress enveloped her frame and tanned skin. 

For Ethan, it was as clear as crystal: summer had the face and scent of Noelle Valentine.

Long before she started leaving her toothbrush in his apartment and sleeping in his old JH t-shirts, Ethan noticed that whenever he laid eyes on her, his whole body started acting in a very irrational way. His doctor’s instincts prompted him to think of all types of biological causes and chemical reactions in the brain. Then, when he sort of admitted to himself it’s not just pure science, Ethan leaned towards the forbidden fruit theory - the more he couldn’t have his drug, the more he was craving it.

But the feeling never disappeared. Whenever he wouldn’t see her for a while - be that an hour, a day, or just when she went to take a shower or make a coffee - the very moment her face came into his view again, he felt his stomach somersaulting.

Every. Single. Time.

It wasn’t any different now.

"Drinking without me?"

She almost dropped the glass when his voice stopped the train of thought in her head. But then she saw his face, the way too seldom relaxed muscles and a barely-there smile.

A perfectly tailored shirt clung to his torso marvellously. If not in medicine, he surely would have made a name for himself in the fashion industry. Fortunately for her, the idea never crossed his mind. 

The warm wind blew in her face, carrying the scent of expensive cologne which overwhelmed her nostrils. She didn’t know this one, so it must have been new. But she did know that smelling it for the whole evening while staring at his handsome face will be a pure torture.

Simply put, she was a goner.

"I don't know why, but I was quite nervous. Had to summon the courage somehow.”

“As you should be. After all, it's not every day that one goes on their first date."

She looked at him as if she’d just been told that a UFO landed on the roof.

“On a what?”

"Well, I was thinking a lot lately about how we never had a first date. Nothing was ever...typical with us. I promised myself I will do my best to fix things that caused you pain or deprived you of the things you deserved. Maybe I cannot fix some immediately, but this one I can, so I will."

Her eyes, overbrimming with affection struck him like thousand lightnings. Thank god a comfortable silence fell between them - had she asked him a question, it would have been clear that right now he is nothing but a simpering moron.

With this in mind, he took his hands from behind his back, holding a small bouquet of pink gerberas.

"These are my favourites." Her face instantly illuminated at the well known sight and smell. "How did you know?”

"I had some amazing helpers."

Elle instantly turned her head left and looked inside, where grinning, Sienna was showing her the thumbs up.

"Wow, now I actually wish I'd downed the whole bottle."

"I'm glad you didn't. I want to go on a date with a woman, not her lifeless body, even though the body itself is very appealing. Shall we?”

“King of compliments…”

* * * * * * * *

"You actually look like you are having a good time, Dr Ramsey.”

"Why wouldn't I? There is alcohol, sitting under the sky definitely has its charm and the company is acceptable." She playfully swatted his arm, the gesture a quick reminder of how comfortable they felt with each other, something he constantly remembered to never take for granted.

“Although I love this, I still don’t understand why you dragged me all the way outside Boston, I’m pretty sure the rooftop bars are pretty acceptable there, too. A bit more crowded though, that’s for sure.”

“Are you complaining about the fact that we have this entire place to ourselves? I know the owner and he was indebted to me.”

“Of course he was.” Looks like the whole town is indebted to Ethan freakin’ Ramsey.

“With regards to why I brought you here… you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Gosh. She couldn’t decide whether the mysterious side of Ethan Ramsey was hot as hell or annoying as hell. But she didn’t really have time to contemplate, because her companion asked her a question.

“Why did you become a doctor?” The ocean eyes pierced her to the core and she had a feeling that even if she was the best actress in the world, there was no way she’d be able to hide something from this man.

“That’s a terrible change of subject. Also, I must have told you like a million times already.”

“No, you never told me.”

When she looked at him and really, really thought about it… she suddenly realised Ethan was right. Elle told the story so many times she sort of… assumed she told Ethan, too. 

“Are you sure you want to hear it today? It’s a pretty sad story, a mood killer I’d say.”

“It’s what makes you you, so yes, I want to hear all about it - the good, the bad and the indifferent.”

“I’ll tell you, but I need to ask something first. Why now? We’ve known each other for a while and you just… I just sort of assumed this isn’t the type of conversation you’d like to hold.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head.” Ethan’s expression was gentle, not a hint of irony in his voice. “I’ve known you for a while now, but there are still so many things about you that I don’t know. At first, I didn’t want to ask, because asking these questions meant admitting that there is something more between us. What a fail would that be, after I’ve mastered the art of denial.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a bitter or a nervous laugh, it was a genuine banter between them, as the British half of her soul liked to call it. “But you made me want to dig deeper.”

Was it the heat that made her catch her breath, or did it have nothing to do with the temperature?

“Plus, this is sort of what first dates are for, right? I’m sorry for skipping right to the more complex questions. It’s not that I don’t want to know what you were afraid of as a child, I want to know all the details… but it feels like the atmosphere calls for something…bigger.”

So she told him all about her friend, how she fell ill, how she couldn’t be saved and how the experience wreaked havoc on her whole life, tears glistening in her eyes at the mere memory of the events that shaped who she was today.

Ethan listened, his whole body tense and eyes transfixed. She was giving him one of the most fragile parts of her and he had to make sure his hands were there to catch, carry and care for this treasure.

“And that’s when I realised that if I focused on becoming the best doctor I could be, then maybe one day, I’d be that person who has an answer, who can solve a mystery and save a relationship that means the world to someone. Sometimes, people don’t realise that when a person dies, it’s not only them that’s gone. The part of someone who stays, who has to deal with the whole ‘me after you’ - that part is gone, too. So for me, in a way, this meant saving more than one life.”

For a couple of seconds he didn’t move. Then, without saying a single word and with an unreadable expression he got up and offered her a hand, which she silently accepted. He led her to the railing, where the sun was slowly sinking into the boundless waters of Quincy Bay.

His lips found the all too well known way to her forehead, placing a loving kiss on her delicate skin.

“I am so proud of you.” There was something so mesmerising in his whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.

“As a mentor or as a boyfriend?”

“Both. I want you to know that your dedication to people who rely on you is astounding and hardly present in doctors your age. Or any age, for that matter.”

“Wow, Dr Ramsey, smooth. Trying to hit on me with a recycled pick-up line used on a national TV? No wonder you didn’t have too many girlfriends.”

“No, I didn’t. But I believe everyone has a limit of luck they can get per life. And looking at you, I got a couple of lifetimes worth of luck.”

This was enough to render her speechless. She smiled and at this very moment he knew he would do anything to make her smile like this. She wrapped him around her pinky finger and suddenly his whole existence revolved around finding ways of seeing her curve these breathtaking lips as often as possible and making sure he is the reason she smiles… not crying her eyes out.

Although the other didn’t know, because none of them said it out loud, they both thought the same thing.

This feels so right. 

There isn’t a hint of awkwardness in the fact that they can go from being serious or emotionally vulnerable to funny and teasing in seconds.

In one effortless movement, Ethan spun her and pressed her back against his chest.  Then, he started placing a series of tender kisses along her jawline and the crook of her neck, slowly moving towards her shoulder. 

Come on, just say it Ramsey. It doesn’t get any better than this.

He wrapped her palm in his and pointed them towards the sky. 

“There they are - the Little Dipper and the Big Dipper.” Their intertwined fingers were jumping from one tiny flashing point to the other, as if they were playing connect the dots. “And that’s Orion’s Belt.”

“I really don’t get why at this point I’m still surprised that you’re good at everything.”

Elle was drunk on his every word, as this annoying trait of Ethan Ramsey being the know-it-all was actually one of her favourite things about him. 

As for Ethan, he couldn’t help but think that life wasn’t perfect and was never going to be. But this - this moment - it was in fact perfect. Why take chances of ruining it, when so many things can go wrong?

What if she doesn't say it back?

What if she's just gonna laugh at him or tell him he had it all wrong.

What if he misinterpreted everything and she never thought about him this way?

He was terrified of being this exposed. The last person he loved so much left him without batting an eyelid and disappeared for 25 fucking years.

Maybe it was better to live in a perfect illusion than a reality in which there was even a 0.01% chance she doesn't love him back.

So they both drowned in the moment, drifted in the sea of rapture, lost in the illusion that it can all last forever.

It was her who broke the silence.

“I’m getting a bit cold, is it ok if we call it a night?”

“Right, of course.”

“Thank you for the first date, I loved it.”

Handing her his jacket (her favourite, the dark green leather one) Ethan was furious at himself. 

Maybe he was broken. Maybe he will remain broken forever. Maybe that’s the way it must be.

“Do you want to spend the night at mine?” The question slipped his tongue before he was able to fully reflect on it.

“At yours? Unless you have some secret place I don’t know about, just a quick reminder - I live there too.”

“Since this was our first date, I thought it was a gentlemanly thing to ask.”

“In that case… I am afraid I have the ‘after the 3rd date’ sleepover rule, Dr Ramsey.”

* * * * * * * *

The morning came all too soon and the hot, ruthless rays of the rising sun announced that Ethan is now way past his regular wake up and get up time. He barely slept, tossing and turning, replaying every second of the evening in his head.

His hand mindlessly reached for what he hoped to be the familiar curves and softness of the body he adored so much. 

But his palm hit the mattress with a loud thud. The bed was empty. 

The all-too-well known feeling of hopelessness slipped into the doctor's mind with ease. What did he expect? He was acting weird the previous day. First date, what a stupid idea. She must have realised something is wrong with him and finally left.

But before he was able to fully wallow in the mud of pity, the feeling was soon replaced by an old friend Ethan haven’t heard from for a long time.

Panic. 

Where was she? Is she ok? What if something happened to her and he was just sleeping like a log instead of being there to protect her. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her… again. Something grabbed his chest in a tight grip and wouldn’t let go. 

Scenes flashed before his eyes, vivid and bright. Their hands touching through the glass wall. Her hand cupping his cheek through the layer of hazmat suit.

He got out of bed at the speed of sound and started running around the apartment, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Suddenly, he noticed.

The balcony door was opened wide. 

Shit.

Heart in his mouth, Ethan crossed the distance between his kitchen island and the balcony door in the blink of an eye. 

Elle was just serving pancakes outside. The goddamn pancakes. The only thing he couldn’t cook. The one thing she kept teasing him about and he rolled his eyes every time she did.

God, he promised himself he will never learn how to make them, if it meant she would just tease him forever.

She was smiling as widely as ever, putting the sun and everything else in the world to shame. Ethan was still a bit shaken and his uneven breathing gave him away. Elle finally noticed his presence.

“Good morning, I was just about to—“

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They both froze. 

The tension in the silence that had just set in was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But the silence didn’t last long. As one man, with eyes full of disbelief, they both murmured simultaneously:

“What did you just say?”

This time, he felt obliged to break the silence.

"I...I...I mean, I…" 

Damn it, get it together, idiot.

"I didn't mean to…”

Great, Ramsey, keep digging an even deeper hole for yourself, then crawl in and stay there forever.

"You didn't mean to say it?”

"Yes. No. I mean, damn it, I am making things worse, aren't I?”

She didn’t set him straight.

"The thing is, I wanted to say it yesterday. I had it all planned, I took you for a first date and I wanted to say it for the first time yesterday.”

"Why did it have to be yesterday?”

“Give me a minute.”

She just rolled her eyes, but Ethan didn’t have a chance to notice before disappearing inside. A few moments later he re-emerged, his face and torso covered by a neatly wrapped, rectangle-shaped object.

"What's this?"

"Something you should have unpacked yesterday, but then... life happened."

Elle sat down on cold tiles, her hands trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. And just like he did months ago, he took her hand in his, only this time he cupped his own cheek with her palm and placed the most tender kiss on the inside of her hand.

It was her favourite medicine, a remedy for all things wrong. 

He sat beside her and nodded at the mysterious package. With impatience growing inside of her, Elle has torn the paper up.

Inside was a dark blue, framed print - the colour of it an instant reminder of her favourite set of irises.

She studied everything with intent. A circle must have been representing the earth and the irregular dots and lines must have been the stars and constellations. 

"A map of the sky? That's beautiful, Ethan."

He knew immediately that although her delight was sincere, she had absolutely no clue what she was looking at and why she was looking at it.

“It's not just any map of the sky.” Ethan explained gently, hints of pride colouring his voice. “It's a map of the Boston sky from exactly a year ago. Well, a year and a day.” He smiled faintly, now a shade of sorrow in his enchanting voice.

Silence. Was she supposed to know what that meant?

“Aren’t you full of mysteries today? Ok, you need to throw me a lifebelt here. What's so special about the sky from a year and a day ago?”

“For the world? Probably not too much. For me? Everything.”

At this stage of their relationship, she knew a lot about Ethan’s behaviours, triggers, his body language. And not just a relationship as a couple, but also everything that came before Ethan became someone she was running through life with (the life of two doctors in one of the busiest and most prestigious hospitals was certainly not a walk in the park).

But it still fascinated her how his demeanour changed whenever the subject was serious, whenever he was talking about something that truly mattered to him. It was as if he’d stripped down of all the layers and let her look into his bare soul. These rare moments of vulnerable intimacy meant more to her than any night of passion they ever shared.

Her eyes turned to him in pledge, because as much as she wanted to, Dr Valentine still couldn’t fully comprehend the scene unraveling in front of her.

“Read the description below the map.”

Dear God, did she actually hear shyness in his voice?

She skimmed through the image again, and there it was, right at the bottom. Elle was so focused on trying to decipher the meaning of the image that she didn’t notice the words below. 

The words which explained everything.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DAY 

THAT MADE ME REALISE

YOU ARE THE SKY

EVERYTHING ELSE IS JUST THE WEATHER

Her emerald eyes brimmed with hot tears as the meaning dawned upon her. Words were very unnecessary, but now that he summoned the courage to speak, there was still a lot he wanted to put into words. He gently took the frame from her hands and leaned it securely against the wall.

Taking her palms into his, he placed delicate kisses on her knuckles, his lips tracing the shape of these two tiny hands, which held all of him. Everything he had, everything he was and was going to be, he placed in those two fragile palms, with an unspoken hope that they will hold him and catch him if he falls. 

“Look at me.” The words were pulsing with care and affection, even though his voice coloured them in serious and desperate shades.

“One year ago… and a day from today…” He smiled and she felt the warmth spilling inside of her. The power he had over her was beyond the limits of understanding. 

Little did she know that the object of her affection was lost in the same thought.

“I was standing exactly where we stand right now. It was dark and the view wasn’t that spectacular.” He freed one of his hands, but only to make contact with her cheek to caress it slowly. In this moment, he had to touch her any way that he could. With his hands. With his eyes. With his soul.

“But I always found comfort in staring at the sky. When I was at med school, I had countless moments of doubt, I wanted to quit more times than I can count. So I used to go to a secluded place at night and stare at the sky. It made me realise how, in one respect, I am just a grain of sand in the universe and how little my problems are. Funnily enough, this thought actually brought me a sense of comfort. If I am as little as I think I am, then what is the harm in being brave and taking chances? A wise man once said… There are some things that are worth any risk.” 

She giggled through the tears, the sweet sound soothing his shattered nerves.

“I was standing right here and I never felt more miserable in my life. And I couldn’t understand why, for God’s sake. I was thriving at work. I had everything figured out and planned. I was pushing you to be the best you could be and I watched you turn into someone who would one day be far greater than me. But you looked so sad, so… broken. You already know I can’t just gloss over you feeling down. The sadder you were, the more miserable I felt. One evening, I was having a glass of scotch and I remembered some tiny exchange we’ve had earlier in the day, literally a chit chat. No idea what it was about. But I remembered your smile and your laugh. Every tiniest move of your muscles, your eyes, how your hair set around your face. It made me happy. Even if it was just for 5 minutes, knowing that you are happy in that very moment filled my chest with lightness. That’s when I realised I want to be the person who makes you feel this way.”   

She blinked the first time in a while, as if she was afraid to make the tiniest movement, afraid it will all disappear and turn out to be a dream. Giant teardrops rolled down her angelic face, trailing the path of joy.

“Noelle Sky Valentine, I love you. I have loved you for a long time but I was too stubborn to let myself give in. And that, as you already know, will always be one of my biggest regrets.” 

“Ethan, I don’t… I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to say.” Her voice was saturated with emotions.

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.“ 

“I love you too, Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are by far the most complicated and stubborn person I have ever met. You are… everything I never knew I looked for in another human being.”

Once he heard her say it back, he couldn't get enough of it and a lifetime didn't feel like enough to tell her he loves her, as many times as he wished to.

“But I do have to mention this, Dr Ramsey… from the first date to a love confession in less than 24 hours? I’m sorry, I think this is moving too fast.”

“I’ll show you too fast…but I’m afraid we need to get inside, I don’t want the whole world and its wife to see how I teach you a thing or two.”

Ethan scooped her in his arms and carried her inside, despite her mock protests. He smiled and corrected himself. 

He wanted for the whole world to see.

Because the whole world was right there. 

In his arms.

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

If you’ve gotten this far, I need you to know you are absolutely amazing 💗

Tag 🏷 list: @jamespotterthefirst @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @mrs-ramsey @maurine07 @gryffindordaughterofathena @mercury84choices @lovingramsey @qrkowna @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @lisha1valecha​ @oldminniemcg​ @iemcpbchoices​ @tsrookie​ @fayeswiftie​ @levinsdowneyy​ @brooks-eden​ @poudredevie​ @queencarb​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @lucy-268​ @tenaciousdeputydreamfriend​ @alwaysmychoices-sideblog​ @whippedforethanfreakingramsey​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @the-pale-goddess​ @lem-20​ @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @liaromancewriter​ @ohchoices​ @archxxronrookie​

[sleepingcup]

Aesopie Character File

Observer: Rue cw: mentions of abuse, cheating, dark themes

"The Cursed Child"

Current Name: Aesopie  Real Name: Aesop Carl

Specific Skills: None?

Current Status: Alive, currently isolating himself to a rented house Rue live.

About: The boy is a unique alternative versions of "Aesop Carl" due to it's similar appearances but different outfits. 

 However his personality was unstable due to his past experiences. He only smiles to people he is personally comfortable with, but his smile turns extremely down when it comes up to other people he doesn't know. The boy did tried his best to smile when he sees other alternative selves but hides his emotions using a oversized white sweater.

 From his past experience, he is a single 26 year old male who had the same size as the real Aesop Carl.

Experiences:  His talents was Embalmer. However, he also has additional talents such as Make-Up Artist, Character Figure Artist, Doll Creating Artist. 

 The best of his abilities was him becoming a manager, his grades were at a high passing grade with no fails. The students call him the "Silent Prince" due to his beauty, passing grades, and mysterious personality. 

 According to Aesopie, his knowledge as a manager was decent. However, when he was placed to a job as a part time manager for one month, the shop was running smoothly without any fails which concludes his potential.

 But Aesopie is also decent with cooking after observing me and my notebook for a long time.

Mental Conditions:  Aesopie's conditions was from depression and past life PTSD, even some fears of awakening the past mistakes. 

 Not only that, reports also show that Aesopie can swap personalities to a boy name Hamlet but no one know the real reason. There will be more observations further with this situation.

 Aesopie said that he has gray hair, but it was turn to white due from a large amount of stress level’s he has been receiving. Including the past memories that he has been remembering increases, “It won’t go away!” He says, medication to remove that is a must.

 Not many people really want to make friends with him and often call him names and sometimes bully him. But that happened when Aesopie snap at someone, causing the boy to be homeschooled until university. 

 The cause of the mental conditions was Jerry Carl, the boss of the embalming dead people. Rumor has it that Jerry Carl was abusive towards Aesopie, but not many proofs are found since it was discarded.

Love Experiences:  Aesopie once had a boyfriend, Joseph Desaulniers who became lovers from a matchmaker Mary Antoinette since highschool. The were lovers from the start from October but it only lasted for 1 week, according to Aesopie, Joseph was found cheating on him by making out with other girls. He manage to confront Joseph, but according to the cheater, Aesopie scares him cause of his 'strange behavior'.

 Another love interest was Eli Clark and wanted to send a love letter to him since highschool, sadly it was found in a trashcan and was crumpled to bits. Eli was reserved to a woman Gertrude since they were pointed as a future married couple. It was also revealed that Gertrude was the one who crumpled his love letter, making it seems like a pure rejection from Eli.

 However, Eli remained single after the discovery from her actions thanks to Victor who noticed the situation. Aesopie isn’t aware that Eli is still single.  There will be someone who will make Aesopie fall in love, but that will take a long time.

Relationships:

Hamlet - Aesopie's second personality, the 'he takes the physical pain' sadly there was not much info about him. Rue - Current Guardian for Aesopie, the one who rescued him from a suicide attempt and was currently living with her in hopes to recover from mental problems.

Tracy Reznik - Childhood best friend to Aesopie, she is often worried about him since she is the only person who know his pain. Currently working to a cafe but in secret was locating the people who are going to kidnap him. Victor Grantz - Childhood friends since Elementary School until University, just like Tracy he is also concerned for Aesopie. Assisting her on the shop, making sure that nothing bad happens to her, but also gives letters of warnings in secret. Ganji Gupta - Childhood friends, was protective of him from the bullies, isn’t highly aware about his past. Currently living with Annie since he was protective of her. Annie Lester - Childhood friends, assisted Aesopie with Ganji. The one who taught him how to sew a doll before going on a departure with Ganji. Currently living with Ganji, but also knowing in secret what’s been happening to Aesopie. Eli Clark - Friends with Aesopie but hasn't seen him and haven't heard much from him. He is working on the cafe as a butler, but still single. But is feeling worried for Aesopie.

Naib Subedar - Friends Norton Campbell - Friends Mike Morton - Friends Andrew Kriess - Friends Luca Balsa - Friends Emma Woods - Friends Wu Chang (Xie Bi'an & Fan Wujiu) - Friends Jack - Friends Melly Plinius - Friends Emily Dyer - Friends Vera Nair - Acquaintance, but secretly wanting to be a co-worker with Aesopie.  Michiko - Acquaintance Mary Antoniette - Acquaintance of Aesopie but feels pity that the couple didn't make it from a week. Currently she is taken by Michiko and helping her on a fashion company.

Joseph Desaulniers - Ex-boyfriend, however despite having no first kiss, the man is horrified from Aesopie's 'strange behaviors' but is proven heavily guilty since he was too greedy that he has the power. What is new from him is that, he was doing his job without being a playboy. Jerry Carl - Abuser and Aesopie's ex-guardian who tortured him to be better in embalming. Currently trying to find any ideas to get Aesopie back home.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Heart, Mind and Soul

(A Jack x Rin x Roland drabble)

Word Count: 1770

Warnings: a coming out and mentions of polyamory

A/N: While celebrating the arrival of Emma's baby, Jack comes to a happy realization. This is 100% out of order from "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" and its impending sequel. 🤣

“This baby is very..”

“Oh, he's lovely! You’re lovely! Jack, doesn't Emma look lovely?! I know you're very fuck the lot of ya inside. You need me to take some of that from you? Or him?”

“Blimey, Little Bird,” Jerry laughed.

“Sorry! Sorry. Bit of an emotional tornado going on from everyone. I get nervous and manic.”

“Squidgy,” Jack finally managed to finish his sentiment from before. Everyone stared at him, “Well he is! I've no proper contact with kids save Billy, but he’s a teenager. Wasn't exactly in a right way when he came round was I?”

“I've got loads of experience with them,” Roland piped up from his place against the wall. The others seemed to forget he was there. Except Rin.

Rin knew he was vibrating with the sound of gentle chaos that surely emanated from Emma, Jerry and the baby. “Plenty of kids in the traveller community I came from. We all chip in and help,” he spoke softly. His long arms outstretched towards the mother and her infant. “I’d like to hold him if Jack won't.”

Emma’s eyes darted from Rin to her brother. She wasn't full of panic (like Jack), or excitement (like Rin). It was more like confusion over Roland’s place in their life.

Rin felt that her.. well could she say sister-in-law? Sister? They were great friends. Either way, Emma liked Roland. She liked that he teased out the jealous, competitive side of Jack. That he made her brother human. Social. That Roland fit like a strange musical puzzle piece into Jack and Rin’s life together. Rin knew Emma just didn't have the words to ask what was going on.

Jack's body tensed. His nostrils flared as he puffed out his chest. “I'll hold him!” he protested. From his position behind the medium, Emma and Rin noticed a cheeky grin spread along Roland’s face.

“First of all relax,” Emma gently suggested. Jack tried, his shoulders sagged and curved downward. “You can either hold him one of two ways. Like this,” she demonstrated holding the newborn against her shoulder. Her one hand covered his back; the other cupped his head. “Or in your arms this way.” Now she situated the baby cradled in her arms. Not once did he stir or open his eyes.

“Either way you might as well learn both, love. So you can help Em and Jez,” Rin pointed out. “Get the hang of carrying him about, then feeding and changing nappies.”

“Uh, doesn't he need Emma for the feeding?” Jack's question was innocent enough. “And me? Billy’s fourteen. He’ll be round more than I will.”

“C’mon mate, just say you’re scared. I'll take him instead.” Roland stepped towards Emma and everyone else.

Emma made to hand the baby off to Roland, but Jack piped up. “No! He's my nephew! I'll hold him first!” The baby whinged in response, but still no crying.

“Alright, no need for a shout. So touchy. Ok just hold your arms like this,” Roland crossed his arms in front of his body and hugged his elbows. Jack mimicked him. “Now in the crook. That's where his head goes, alright?”

“Yes Daaaddd,” Jack rolled his eyes heavenward and stared up at Roland through the curls that hung over his forehead. He sneered with a lip curled, but it was only playful.

Emma could see the light behind her brother’s eyes as he and Roland looked at one another. She knew that look. The flirtatious, almost bashful one two people who were newly in love- or at least attracted to one another- gave. Other than the fleeting smirk, only Jack's eyes gave him away.

Roland, on the other hand, couldn't seem to hide the affection he held for the other man. His smile was wide and dimpled his cheeks. Yet Emma couldn't tell if it was Jack or Rin he was in love with.

Emma noticed the way Rin seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on between the two men while she curled herself into Jack’s side. Her chin resting against him as the baby was placed in his waiting arms. The way the empath felt about Jack was often spread out around to everyone nearby. An overwhelming sense of calm and warmth would blanket them. Often accompanied by a wild heartbeat and flushed cheeks.

But there's no way she could be unaware, Emma thought to herself. Rin literally absorbed emotions. Was she ignoring it then? Afraid to confront the situation lest she lose Jack or Roland who had been the woman’s oldest, and only, friend.

“That's it. Look at that,” Roland interrupted Emma’s contemplation. “You're a natural, love.”

Even Jerry knitted his brows in confusion. He shrugged as his wife stood beside him. They watched as Rin’s friend joined the couple on the sofa. He settled into Jack the way his girlfriend was. Was it just to get a better look at the baby, or was it more?

Jack, it seemed, was a natural. After the initial shock of actually holding an infant in his arms, his body relaxed immensely. He cradled the head in his hand and realized just how enormous it was in comparison. Or how good the baby smelled.

Jack didn't even know babies smelled good. Or took ragged little breaths in their sleep like a sigh. Or had the soft cheeks that he was now brushing ever so gently with the thumb of his free hand. Then over the bottom lip. His lips.

“I think he's got my mouth,” Jack said in utter fascination. The baby finally opened his eyes and attempted to focus up at the face in front of him. “Oh brilliant!” Jack marveled now. “He's got my eyes! Well, OUR eyes,” including Emma in the statement.

“Technically all babies have those color eyes until they're at least a few months old, then they'll change to a more permanent one.”

“Thank you for that soul crushing spot of information, Rolo.” Jack's eyes rolled again, but he jokingly jabbed him with an elbow. It was totally flirting.

Rin placed her hand on the newborn’s forehead. She closed her eyes and appeared to drift off for a little. “Babies are so emotionally quiet. They need just three things, and they either like you or they don't. You’re in luck, babes. He bloody well adores you.”

Jack felt a lump in his throat. He thought back to the day he and Martin, Emma’s ex and Jack's “lawyer”, were sat together before Jack was taken to hospital. How Martin had told the young man there wasn't much to like about him. Jack's response then was the same as it was right now. Except the tears that unexpectedly slid down his cheeks were happy ones.

“Cheers, mate.” Jack's crooked grin was full of hope. A tear fell on his nephew’s forehead which he quickly tried to wipe away, but Roland beat him to it. Their fingers brushed together; Jack bit his lip. His heart rate picked up.

“Givin’ him a bath already, and ye only just held him a first time, Uncle Jazz..” Roland paused to let that roll off his tongue.

Jack and Rin simultaneously scrunch their noses. Faces screwed up in obvious fake disgust as they stared at their third.

“Absolutely not!”

“Jazz sounds like every musician ever trying to fight each other for the spotlight. No bleeding way. Rather listen to your stupid theremin!”

“Jazz is improvise and-” Roland swallowed his bottom lip and took a breath as the other two just laughed. “Fine! How's Jax?”

“Loads better!” the others exclaimed together.

Rin snaked her hand across Jack's shoulders and lost her fingers in the hair on the back of Roland’s neck. Their attention back on the infant.

Emma’s face began to match her hair with redness. Only because she couldn't stand not knowing what was going on. She wasn't upset or even worried. No, she knew Rin was giving off tendrils of stillness. That Emma would be ok. That everything was ok. She squeezed Jerry’s hand and he whispered in her ear that the little bird was right.

“Alright, who next? Wren? Rolo?” Now Roland’s eyes rolled dramatically. “Maybe Auntie if she's ready?” Jack turned to her.

“Since I am INCREDIBLY turned on watching you hold this baby, hand him to Rol so I can see if it does the same?” She was flirting.

“I’d love to if ye don't mind?”

Jack relented. He handed the baby off to Roland who held him quite expertly in one arm. His other hand free to absently swipe a stray tear on Jack's cheek who leaned into the hand that lingered on his face.

The three of them forgetting where they were. Or weren't? Either way, Roland’s hand cradled the side of Jack's face the way he was the baby’s head. It took little encouragement, and the softest tug, for the men to bring their mouths together in a tender kiss. Jack's hand clinging to Roland’s shirt.

Rin covered Roland’s hand on her boyfriend’s cheek and ended the kiss. She turned his face towards hers, hand tangled up in the wildness of Jack's hair now. Their mouths meshed into one for a few moments before breaking apart. Their foreheads pressed together as they smiled at one another with a knowing glance.

Then Rin leaned around Jack so Roland could bend to kiss her too. Their lips lingered this time with a hint of tongue.

“Jack, is there something you.. You want to tell me? Us?”

“Yeah mate, safe space and all. Scout’s honor.”

Jack heaved a sigh. A contented one as the three people on the sofa all shared secret smiles with one another. The notion being passed amongst them silently. emphatically. That it was the right time to say it out loud.

“Seems I love men and women. And well, guess I've gone and fallen in love with one of each? They’re not making me choose because they are already in love. It’s been working for awhile now.”

“We just never said it out loud till right now,” Rin added.

“It sounds like fecking music to my ears,” Roland almost giggled.

“You don't hate me, do ya Em?” Jack was suddenly worried. Heart again in his throat.

Emma’s face relaxed. She didn't quite understand how it worked. A threesome that lasted into a relationship. What she did know was that Jack looked truly happy. He was as relaxed as the baby in Roland’s arms. How lucky that he was loved by two people instead of just one? That's all that mattered.

“I guess we say welcome to the family!”

Tag list: @neuroticpuppy @elliethesuperfruitlover @magic-multicolored-miracle @super-unpredictable98 @nightmonsters @rob-private @icecoffeegirl @frogs--are--bitches @maerenee930 @a-ghoulish-tale @070188 @forenschik @messengeronthemoon @bisexualnathanyoung @sapphogrrrl @bwritesstuff @clumsyramen @demons-dogs-and-puns @falloutby @forenschik @the-freckled-luba @shrillbonsoir @ghouls-buddy

[dorki-c]

Fuck him up (if he hurts you)

Characters: Dabi, Fem.(Reader), Toga, Mr. Compress, Giran

Relationship: Dabi and (Reader)

A/N: Hey! I’m finally done with this one! Whoop! Whoop! It took a little while but I’m glad its done because to be honest...I really enjoyed writing this, but, I have other things that require my attention. Also! Happy belated bday Dabi!

 As always, PLEASE REBLOG AND LIKE! (ALSO COME JOIN MY VALENTINES EVENT, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS CLICK HERE!)

TW: Threatening, Swearing and Cheating

Does anybody know the stages of getting over your cheating significant other?

It all starts out with denial- how bittersweet that filthy fucking word is-, although it doesn’t last long, when once you managed to eat at least five tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream whilst watching the last show of some shitty soap opera, the next stage comes to bite your ass, anger- also known as throwing or burning your exe’s belongings that they left; however, I prefer burning it (they won’t be able to sell it if they come back).

Once those first two (rather tough) stages fly pass, this third one was like hitting the jackpot for me, but probably not for you, as the mental gamble caused lots of sexually frustrated people to bargain- to play the dice, you shall, but even gamblers don’t use the ‘third time is the charm’ as its utter bullshit- and then--!

OH GOD, HERE COMES FIVE MORE TUBS OF BEN & JERRY’S ICECREAM! THIS ONE IS A REAL KICKER! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THE LIVING ROOM IS FUCKING FLOODING WITH DEPRESSION- Yup, that was you five tubs of ice cream ago, maybe some chocolate might help…

At last, when the cleaning crew arrived, and you managed to accept- with the sunshine glowing down on your skin after four long stages of shit- with the fresh thought of buying a couple dresses that you saw on sale from that one adorable itty bitty corner shop.

But I’m not like that.

And here’s why in (you guessed it) 5 stages.

 ------------------------------------------

1. Discovery.

Rolling their shoulders backwards, a blanket fell backwards as a tall silhouette ghosted from the bedroom door that they left open.

When the bathroom light blinked to life, (y/n) faintly heard the screeching of the door shut on itself. Though, she knew her beloved boyfriend had to go to ‘work’, what she didn’t know was who made his phone ping at 7:15 in the morning.

Scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, blankets stuck to sweat-ridden skin as they coiled around her legs similarly to a snake and ensnared them to stay stuck and stationary. The plush pillows tried to lull her back to sleep. However, (y/n) wasn’t having any of it.

Reaching out to grab Dabi’s phone- even if he didn’t give you permission- the time was as you predicted, though the contents of his notifications bleeping up was something you didn’t predict. The background of his lock screen was something to behold as it was a picture of your concentrated form doodling in a sketchbook whilst a pale white cup stood beside two fresh slices of cake.

Shakily revealing the messaging app, there was around four or five unknown contacts, all listed under the people’s numbers.

Though one of them caught your eye.

Opening the chatroom, your free hand clutched the blankets.

Dabi is going to regret making you break the way you did that morning.

(He has no choice in doing so.)

--------------------------------------------------------------

2. Kicking the asshole out.

“Toga…?  C-can you come over, please.”

The TV presented the small-town news that had little to no intervention though that didn’t mould the female into a wish less mess where a gentle hand went to work and smooth out ensnared knots. “Are you okay now, (y/n)-chan?” You never heard Toga murmur before, but that’s the perks of being alive now.

(Y/n) released the trembling bubble of air out of her lungs and into the atmosphere, readying herself for that front door to open. Shaking your head to respond to Toga’s question, a small huff was released out of the other female’s chest.

The blonde female knew why you still weren’t okay.

Whoever walks through that door will have a profound effect on whatever will happen to (y/n).

However, with the slight nudge of her friend’s hand pinching the side of her sensitive waist, a yelp was released in surprise whereas the blonde villain giggled at the reaction. “Your so easy to scare, (y/n)-chan!” Toga loved to tease you, but in this time frame it wasn’t to make you feel uncomfortable but rather the opposite.

She wanted to make your thunder stricken heart rumble with rage in an unknown and bizarre way- but to also remind that you weren’t alone-, though, you had this bubbly and extra crazy best friend who brought over too many sweets for your stomach to handle alongside the annoyance that you hadn’t noticed Dabi’s strange and desolate nature.

As Toga picked up another opened bag of candy (I think they were ‘eclairs’), unwrapped the golden covering as the crinkling plastic fumbled like sparks dancing across the fingers in a tantalising rhythm. In an attempt to grab the bag, Toga was about to throw it across the room so you could get off her because, and I quote “You’re killing me with your weight!”, how lovely that compliment is for somebody who’s blood is like a glacier falling apart after a storm chipped the exterior and revealed the icy truth underneath.

And may God cover their eyes, as that chilling sharp edge at the tip of the glacier crumbles under Mother Nature’s will (so does the female when the familiar screech of the door revealing whoever is walking through reaches her ears).

Sluggishly dripping back onto the couch where at least three of the seven stocked up with fluff blankets- wrapped around drooped shoulders- had slid onto the floor, Toga made an effort to pick them up and stuff (piling) them next to the drowsy (y/n).

“I’m home, dollface!” A familiar voice hollered.

When both of the female’s heard that voice, there was no turning back to the past.

(Y/n) glanced to a duffel bag next to the couch, then glanced towards the teenager’s sinking rage as the blonde’s lips started to slip into a scowl.

A step almost turned into two, however, was held back by the puffy eyed female. “C-c-can I handle this…please?” They whimpered.

Toga really needs to gain a resistance to (y/n) cuteness when she’s sad.

Grabbing the duffel bag, two slippers shuffled (real smooth) around the couch to enter the hallway that led to the front door. Exactly where Dabi was about to take off his shoes.

“I recommend not taking your shoes off.” The pair of blue eyes looked up in confusion. “What? So, I can’t take off my own shoes in our home?” It sounded like a tease, but what if there was another meaning behind it?

Dabi, however, knew that familiar look of sharp-edges eyes where the glossy swirling of a singular emotion led to- and his teasing didn’t make the situation, he’s found himself in, any more light-hearted.

“This isn’t your home anymore,” Hissed (y/n), where (the fuck) did she get that attitude from?

“Who told you that you can throw me o—” The heavy duffel bag clutched in (y/n) clammy hands thud against Dabi’s chest, where his feet slid against the front door’s matt- his legs trembled at the impact the bag had on his chest- along with the rising cough that caught up to him after fleeing from a hero.

“Nobody—told me what to do.” Another sniff ensued, “But, I figured out the truth.” An eyebrow twitched upwards in anticipation as his hand bawled against his hip.

“Then tell me, what’s this big ass ‘truth’ you figured out?” Retorted the male with turquoise eyes watching her head droop towards the ground to hide something.

Raising it after a momentary pause, she glowered “You’re a bloody cheater, Touya.” When tears stained the red canvas again.

“Oh, so this is what it’s about…” Voice as nonchalant as shallow murky river water, “Do you even realise why I did it?” Rolling his eyes, two fingers wormed their way towards a special ring on her left hand before it hit the ground.

“I don’t want to know why.”

 ----------------------------------

3. Jealousy

It was sudden, quick, and loud how Toga came into your (lonely) apartment.

Bang went the door against the wall and crash went the multiple shoes from the shoe cabinet as they thudded against the floor.

“(Y/N)-CHAN! I HAVE GOOD NEWS!” Her shout was louder than the moans you would usually make when it was a pleasurable night with your (new) ex, however you shouldn’t dwell on past relationships.

Only moving your eyes slightly from the book gripped tightly in your hands, Toga sauntered over holding a suspiciously large bag, this only led one ping-pong ball bouncing back to another ping-pong ball within the crevasses of your mind.

Placing a ripped piece of paper in the book, it snapped shut, “Who did you kill?” questioned (y/n)- knowing that when Toga finds something, she will resort to violence, no matter the cost-, however the sweet smile presented as a defence for whatever action she committed was enough dull your concern.

 “Not telling ya!” Then getting a knife out- wait, where did that even come from-, Toga stabbed into the black plastic bag and tore it open with many- I mean tons- of clothes sliding out of the bag and becoming a miniature avalanche in the small space that is your living room.

“…H-how?” Sputtered (y/n), Toga replied: “Big sis’ Mags let us borrow some of her clothes!”

(Y/n) can only imagine how Toga managed to convince Magne to let her borrow some clothes off her, and by clothes, (y/n) could only assume its short skirts and dresses.

“But!” Added Toga, “we have to wait for Mr.C to pop up!”

Great, even Mr. Compress knows about your breakup with Dabi.

“Fine.”

.

.

.

Sitting pretty on a kitchen chair, a small brush lightly dabbed a small hint of colour against the rooftop of your eyes. “Why are we doing this, again?” Murmured the relaxed female as a small dress laid boringly over the torso where it edged closely to showing the backside of her thighs.

Chuckling in response to her inquisitive comment, the villain grabbed liquid eyeliner, although it was smacked out of his hand and replaced with pencil eyeliner matched with a scowl from his subject.

“Liquid eyeliner is cursed, don’t get that shit near me.”

“My, my, even somebody as classy as I wouldn’t offensively smack such an object—”

Oh boy, here we go again.

“Shush, I could easily get Big Sis Magne to beat your ass if you use that tone with me, sir.”— “Oh heavens no! I think Magne would pick my side out of the two of us!”— “Oh really now?”— “I believe—”

Another door slammed open and in stormed Toga in a confident catwalk down the hallway just to profoundly exclaim; “NOPE! SHE’LL CHOOSE ME AS THE CHOSEN ONE!”

Cue the laughter.

.

.

.

Before the sun was ready to roll itself out of the closet, the patchwork villain made his way under the thick cover of darkness to a certain broker’s office.

Pushing it open to let the light of the office room scream in his eyes before he even had the chance to speak, the older male that greeted him, offered him a seat.

“Hey Dabi, what brings you here to my humble abode?” Giran spoke out as the glistening cup of coffee placed in front of the wanderer reflected the light into its murky brown ripples. “I need you to trace this number to its origin, and quick.” Anxiously sliding his phone to showcase your number, the broker twitched his brow upwards.

“First and foremost, where’s the cash?” A thick wad of yen slammed against the table.

“Happy now?”— “Very much so!” Scowling at Giran’s happy chirp, the broker worked his magic on the burner phone to effectively trace the number back to your location, where Dabi soon enough made his way towards the destination you were at.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this…

Nor why he still keeps the ring…

However, he knows what he’s going to say next.

--------------------------------

4.  Anger

Simmering and low crackles of something in the kitchen of your apartment awoke the female from her drunken slumber.

What was being made and why does it smell so familiar? The waft of the meal being created swarmed the first stimulant within the hungover mind of yours truly as the wavering warmth rustled around your legs in an unspoken persuasive whisper to stay in bed.

However, curiosity killed the cat and also brought it back.

Two feet tapped the floor in alerted silence.

Tiptoeing across the room, a hand clenched the side of the doorway when two eyes surfed the surroundings outside of her den.

The sizzling stopped, with a small snap of fire going out.

At the same time this happened, it was then when she figured out who was in her kitchen: Him.

Him, with his tall stance that could make for a ladder to climb on or him with his broad shoulders that look like they were bricks squished underneath his skin, where his paired raven hair familiarly spiked up.

“What are you doing here?” If it wasn’t for the delicious food he was making, then you would’ve killed him on sight. A lacklustre glance at the female, he uses one of her spatulas to move the bacon from the frying pan onto a plate with plump golden coloured scrambled eggs.

“You were drunk, I brought you home, and am now making your hangover breakfast.” Placing the plate next to your arm resting against the counter, with another glance in your direction, Dabi made a finishing blow in the words of: “Since you can’t cook for shit.”

Oh boy, he knows you too well to expect your immediate reaction: anger.

From the built-up rage that started to stack up from days of unrest (and being bloated because of the several tubs of Bens & Jerry’s ice cream), it all started to splutter out of control.

“Oh-- So now your fucking attacking me after the shit you put me through?”

“Why should you know?” (Y/n) turned sour at his comment, “’Why’ I should know?!”

From the nearest counter, there was an empty glass. You took advantage of the potential weapon held it up ready for it to slam against the ground.

“(Y/n) -- put the glass down.” Warned the patchwork male.

With the tips of her ears feeling ever so hot, it felt like the pressure escalating within her ears caused only for her protests to be heard even through the pause of silence.

“(Y/n).” A small twitch of one of his feet made (y/n) flinch backwards. “Com’ on, I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He took another step toward, her grip tightened on the glass cup.

“Do you even know why I’m here?”

“No,” Moving her hand higher, Dabi took another step forward, (Y/n) took another step back, “And I don’t want to kno—” Blubbering a bit of salvia as the female attempted to speak, though it was incoherently heard through squished cheeks.

“Listen, for fucks sake,” Electric blue eyes pierced into your soul like a spear, it’s quite hilarious: You once loved those blue eyes of his, you once worshipped the feeling of his eyes raking down your nude body before- as they took in the sight of pleasure squirming and tightening underneath those diligently flexible fingers-, but those days are over.

He can worship your goddamn forgiveness if he’s going to restrain you like this.

----------------------------------------

5. Forgiveness

“That’s what happened.”

Two legs of your own were crossed over each other like two birds of a feather.

“Are you being honest with me?”

His hand tapped the table as he sat across from you.

“Yes, I’m being honest.”

Breathing inwards and releasing a slow, practiced breath. She glanced at the male’s awaiting expression.

“Okay…”

Biting his ruined lip, the raven-haired male let out a breath of relief.

“Will you forgive me?”

She wishes she could.

“I’m not so sure yet…”

Dabi looked to the side to see (y/n) with both of his eyes.

“But, I’ll give you one last try.”

Taglist: 

@glitterfreezed, @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku, @haredabi, @orenjineki

JOIN THE VALENTINES WRITING EVENT HERE!

[anonniemousefics]

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Masterlist

Based on the response to this post. :) Oh, yes, we’re doing the thing.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Chapter One: The First

I am trying to keep my hands from shaking while I’m holding the test strip. There’s one pink line, and I’m waiting to see if there will be two. I think I already know the answer, but I’m holding my breath like it’ll make time go faster anyway.

If I ever imagined this moment, which I don’t remember ever doing, but if I did, I would have imagined it like the commercials that would run in the background when my mom would watch tv while she cooked dinner. If those were to be believed, I was supposed to be in an all-white, pristine, upper-middle-class bathroom, gasping with tears of joy while I hid my pearly white smile behind trembling fingers. My partner would be hugging me from behind, elated and definitely not about to make any crude jokes about the virulence of his sperm.

None of this is happening.

I am in a Target bathroom stall, surrounded by Target-red walls. Cardan, my husband and the High King of Elfhame, is on the other side of the red walls, trying to distract himself with the automatic paper towel dispensers. He’s waving his hand in front of it every couple of seconds; I can hear it each time the motor dispenses paper. I wonder how long of a trail he’s created at this point, but it’s the least of my worries.

“Cardan, you’re wasting paper,” I tell him anyway. He does it again once more; I can practically feel his petulant glare through the wall.

“How long is this meant to take?” he asks.

“It’s only been thirty seconds,” I tell him. “It takes two minutes.”

“I will die of old age by then,” Cardan mutters to himself, which I know he finds funny, because he’s immortal, and he waves his hand by the paper towel dispenser again.

I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

Cardan had not been keen on this particular trip to Target, which is saying a lot, because he’s usually so fond of it. He had wanted to cut our trip to the mortal world short, head back to Elfhame and its royal healers and midwives and have me submit to their inquiries and tests, as all queens and lovers of the High Kings of Elfhame have before me.

But I just needed a minute to think. I needed to process this, with Cardan alone, and face the impossibly difficult questions we’ve been avoiding since this became a question. And if this is true, if I really am with child, with Cardan’s child, I don’t want the first people to know to be a bunch of faerie midwives. I want to tell Vivi and Heather. I want Taryn to know first. And I am filled with loathing when I think about how protected and insulated I’m about to become when the healers and midwives know. How the people will cease to see me as their High Queen and rather as the incubator for their Prince.

I want to eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. This is all happening so fast.

I glance back at the test strip. Stand and flush the toilet. Step out of the red walls.

Cardan’s raised his dark eyebrows, his hand arrested halfway to the paper towel dispenser again.

“Well?” He looks guarded, unsure of how he’s supposed to be reacting. I hand him the test and step up to the sink, turning on the water to wash my hands. I can see him in the mirror behind me, in his tight pants and boots, The Ramones T-shirt he’s borrowed from Vivi. He’s turning the test over and over in his hands, like he can’t tell which way is up. Same, honestly. My head feels like it’s detached from my body.

“It’s yes,” is the only dumb thing I manage to mutter as I soap up my fingers. Just like the commercials.

“How can you tell?” Cardan’s only looking more confused.

“The two lines.” I turn off the water and tear off part of Cardan’s paper towel train. “The two pink lines mean yes.”

Cardan looks up at me. His chest is hitching in shallow breaths.

“We should be celebrating,” he says, but it comes out like he’s trying to convince himself. So he tries again, squaring up his shoulders with a bit more enthusiasm. “We should be celebrating.”

“Mhmm,” I try to agree with a tight nod. I think I’m going to be sick. Again. Cardan searches my face, his gold-rimmed eyes flitting over the lip I’m worrying away at.

“You do not appear to be particularly celebratory,” he points out, but, then, neither does he. His cheekbones are tingeing red.

“It happened so fast, don’t you think?” My voice sounds almost breathless. It feels like a relief to point out, and that relief is contagious. Cardan’s shoulders sag a little bit as he lets out a breath.

“Lightning fast,” he agrees. He’s white-knuckling the pregnancy test.

“Careful -- I peed on that,” I point out, and, as if I’ve instead told him it’s on fire, Cardan hurls it into the trash with a disgusted huff.

I think for a moment about fishing it back out again, the only bit of evidence that I have that what’s going on inside of me is real. That the legacy we wished first wished for together in the dark, in each other’s arms, not even a month ago, is happening now and fast and there’s no going back. The time for second-guessing was over.

But a disconcerting combination of nausea and hunger hit me in the gut all at once, and I’m reminded that I have plenty of evidence and I’m only going to get more. If I really want to, I’ll just pee on another stick later.

“I need Starbucks,” I spout at the same moment Cardan sighs, “I need a drink.” And we share a quick smile.

At there’s still this. This has not changed.

And I should be enjoying that as we leave the bathroom and Cardan lifts the glamour he’d left at the door to give us some privacy. The “Out of Order” sign vanishes. But instead, I’m thinking of everything that is going to change. Of everything that ought to change, immediately, if at all possible.

I find myself unconsciously reaching for Cardan’s hand, and when I grab his palm and entwine our fingers, he’s squeezing mine back, hard. He knows. The worries and arguments past are resurfacing in his mind, too, and, for a moment, he wordlessly anchors himself to me.

We’re walking past customer service, following the alluring scent trail of coffee and baked goods, as I began to look at the other moms shopping. Their cute messy buns and their athleisure, pushing expensive strollers while their kids gnaw on the season’s latest teethers. And I’m struck, once again, by how much I don’t know.

Really, what are we doing here? Of all the people in all the realms, I think we are the last two people who ought to be becoming parents.

For one, I am an unrepentant murderer. Raised by an unrepentant murderer. Who murdered my own mother in front of me. This is not a person who ought to be cradling newborns.

And Cardan? The twice-cursed High King of Elfhame? Raised by house cats, beaten nightly by his own brother. Simultaneously spoiled and neglected. Is such a person even capable of cradling newborns?

And we’re about to be parents. I need to be reading more, I think. I need to have a plan. We never made a plan. We hadn’t had time to make a plan.

I pause a moment near the checkout lines, pulling Cardan to a stop beside me.

“I’m going to buy a few things first,” I decide in that moment. “Vitamins. Maybe some parenting books.”

“I don’t see the point,” Cardan retorts, straight-faced. “We have plenty of house cats.”

I narrow my eyes up at him as he smirks.

“That joke will be hilarious in a few weeks,” he tells me. “Just you wait.”

“I really doubt it,” I frown, and he’s still smirking when he drops my hand, stepping in front of me.

“My darling Jude,” he cups my face in his hands, and for a moment, his face is all I’m seeing. His expression is soft and tender across his beautiful features, and if our child is even half as good as looking, I am going to struggle to not let it have its way in all things. Or I’m going to want to strangle it. Some days, it’s a coin toss.

“You are the most fearsome and glorious creature I have ever had the privilege to behold,” Cardan is telling me. I’m struck once again by the marvel that he can’t lie and what he is saying must be true. In our five years of marriage, it is still sometimes hard to believe.

“And you will be the most fearsome and glorious mother,” he goes on. “I could not conjure up a more perfect mother for my offspring if I tried.”

“I think that says more about your lack of imagination than anything else,” I quip, but my cheeks are smiling in his hands regardless. He smirks back and quickly kisses me on the lips, once, twice.

“I am happy at this news,” he reassures me, as if he has sensed this whole time how overcome I am.

“I am, too,” I say, and I mean it. Truly. I’m a mixing bowl of emotions. My gaze drifts toward the store. “But we do need parenting books…”

Cardan kisses me quick one last time before releasing my face.

“I will procure your coffee,” he says, taking a step back, and it’s impossible not to look him over, his long, lean body in tight, black pants and worn t-shirt, his messy, black curls around the points of his ears. I have modern science to thank for keeping my womb empty these last five years. Chastity certainly had nothing to do with it.

“And Cardan?” I call after him. He turns. “A cake pop, too?” I ask, already in the clutches of a craving.

He looks intrigued.

“Is that what it sounds like?” he asks.

“Ball of cake on a stick,” I explain, kind of gesturing with my hands as if it will help. Cardan nods, determined.

“Then we will be needing several,” he declares before heading off toward the smell of coffee.

I shoulder the bag I borrowed from Heather and then stuff my hands into the pockets of the yellow sundress I’m wearing, one of a few mortal things of my own I keep at Vivi and Heather’s for visits. I’m on my way to the books section when I start to slow down near a display of newborn onesies.

It isn’t as though I never wanted to be a mother. I supposed there would come a day when I would have acquired all the knowledge one needed to be a mother, and then I would, I don’t know, award myself a medal or a pin and be declared Ready.

Taryn hadn’t been Ready. She would be the first to admit that. Not that I don’t love my niece with my entire heart. But Taryn’s daughter was a handful. Little Eva had been colicky and prone to getting her days and nights confused. For that entire first year, every time we saw Taryn, it seemed she faded a little more: the bags under her eyes greying, her auburn hair growing longer and frayed, everything but her breasts shrinking in size. Of course, it wasn’t permanent. Eva learned to sleep eventually, and to walk and eat and use a toilet, and, now that she was a robust and energetic five-year-old, Taryn was more like herself than she’d been in years.

Still. That first year, though.

Time and time again, Cardan and I would exchange glances while Eva squealed and squalled. It was always a silent No, thank you, please passing between us. We’re just fine without, thank you. Between the battle for the crown and undoing a curse, we’d had quite enough excitement, and so I eagerly welcomed Vivi regularly smuggling me little moon-shaped packets of pink pills from the mortal world. I took them each morning, like clockwork, with relish – it meant I could enjoy my freedom, our freedom as long as I wanted.

I’m not sure what happened in me. One day, I was calling it freedom. The next, it felt like an empty vessel.

We’d gone to visit Taryn and Eva at their estate for a summer solstice brunch. Vivi and Heather had come, and The Ghost was there, too, swapping stories and laughing with Vivi. I’d stepped out onto the terrace to call in Eva for food when I’d spotted Cardan. He was helping Eva climb up a tree, holding her hand while she balanced on a branch. Her wild fox hair was blowing in the late morning breeze that carried her giggle up to the house. Then she leapt at him with a delighted squeal, and he caught her and spun her around so that she squealed some more. And that look of sheer joy on his face when she did. His unguarded laugh echoed up through the grassy hills. I felt my heart crack open.

No, thank you, please suddenly felt very unadvised.

“What have I done to deserve such a face?” Cardan asked me, leaving a lingering kiss close to my ear. I guess I was looking a little amorous when he and Eva came inside. Little Eva was trotting off to the kitchens as I wound my fingers against the buttons of Cardan’s doublet, keeping him close for a moment longer.

“You looked happy,” I said as his hands slid around my waist. I looked up into his dark eyes, warm only for me, and saw he was smiling. “You looked like you liked doing fatherly things.”

He pulled me a little closer, a little tighter.

“I think I did,” he admitted, perhaps hardly believing it himself.

And then it happened. The unspoken shift, the change in the air. It seemed to crackle in the space between our gaze, and it took a fair bit of restraint to not pull him into the nearest coat closet and tear off his clothes. Taryn was calling us anyway. The servants had set the table, and no one would be seated until we had taken our chairs, even in this little family arrangement. Taryn was set on Eva learning courtly manners by example.

Courtly manners. By example. Taryn had the best intentions for Eva, but the phrases make me snort even now while I peruse baby clothes in Target. What example did we set in Faerie? One of murder and deceit and betrayal and lewd behavior.

The same day that I’d watched Cardan play with Eva, he abruptly ended dinner in the palace’s great hall to hoist me into his arms and carry me out, away from every one’s gaze, away from even the guards.

“What has gotten into you?” I kicked my feet and pounded at his shoulders – not particularly hard. Look, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t a game now. I could cause damage if I wanted to. I don’t.

Cardan set me on my feet, only to seize my waist in one arm. We stumbled into an alcove in the wall as his head dipped to my neck, his other hand catching us against the wall. Delighted shivers danced down my arms as his lips brushed the spot below my ear, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp.

“You couldn’t lie to me now even if you wanted to, wife,” Cardan murmured, kissing my ear. He wasn’t wrong. I ran my hands up his deep blue velvet doublet to his shoulders, and bent into his embrace. His hands began to roam my waist, my hips, pulling at my skirts.

“I’ll tell you whatever you like if you’ll keep doing this,” I whispered back, flushing. When he pulled back from my throat, there was a wicked, sneaking smile on his reddening lips.

“You don’t despise the thought of bearing my children,” he said, like it’s a revelation. I blinked. Had he been thinking about our previous exchange all day?

“I despise the thought of bearing any children,” I clarified. “It’s not some honor unique to you.”

Cardan gasped as if he was wounded.

“You could not have cut me deeper,” he teased, as I wound my fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I thought I was special.”

“You are,” I said, tugging at his hair. “Because if I’m to bear any children at all, I would like them to be yours.”  

The smile that spread over his face then was far from wicked. Cardan was flushed and delighted in a way few got to see, and his arms squeezed around me, lifting me to him as he crushed his lips to mine.

“Cardan,” I laughed against his fevered kisses, my cheeks hurting. “I didn’t mean right this second.”

His lips were swollen when he pulled back, the pupils of his gold-rimmed eyes blown wide.

“Then practice with me,” he said, his breathing ragged. “Like swordplay. You’re always saying I’m rubbish at practicing.”

“You really are,” I gasped against his mouth.

In the last five years, I’ve grown no better at resisting the pull of his desire. If anything, I’m only worse. I couldn’t think straight there in his arms. I wanted to drown in his contagious idealism. I wanted to be set aflame by his soft lips and his body against mine.

With my arms thrown over his shoulders, his lips slid against mine, over and over, our hearts pounding in time together. And then he lifted me off my toes so that he could push us both through our bedchamber door.

A shoe slipped from my foot, and he stumbled over it, kicked it to the side, without releasing my waist. Only when the back of my legs pressed against the bedframe did he pull back from my mouth, breathless. And then he pushed me back onto the bed.

I stretched out on the lush duvet, my whole body thrumming as my heart battered my ribcage. But when I looked up at his face there at the foot of the bed, his expression had darkened in the candlelight.

“What is it?” I pushed myself up to my elbows. “Why are you stopping?”

Cardan suddenly looked as if he was at war with himself. Even though his chest still heaved, he inched to the bed and stepped back again, his dark brows furrowing together.

“Cardan…?” I sat up, alarmed at his hesitation.

“Do you think I would be any good at it?” he blurted out. “At being a father,” he clarified, and winced as if he already knew and hated the answer.

I slid to the edge of the bed and reached for his belt. Pulled him closer.

“You are as equipped for the task as I am,” I said, looking up at him with what I hoped was a provocative smile. He slid his long fingers into my hair, and I needed him closer. “If you’re terrible at it, then I will probably be worse.”

I meant it in jest. He’d always liked this side of me before, my dark, warped cruelty. But this time, his fingers tightened suddenly in my hair.

“Shit.” The word slid out of him like it was being dragged. His hands dropped from my hair, and he stepped back to look at me. He drew in a sharp breath.

“You think I would be a terrible father,” he said, which was hardly fair. That wasn’t what I said at all. I sighed hard, ruing the direction this was going – further from the bed.

“I think neither one of us knows what a good father looks like,” I said. Cardan only gave a painful chuckle.

“We are both quite familiar with terrible fathers,” he said. “I think you, of anyone, would be able to recognize a terrible father when you saw one.”

“And that is the last time you will compare yourself to Madoc,” I said, in horror. “If that is the standard for terrible fathers, then you’re angelic.”

But Cardan gave me a look of slit-eyed skepticism, so I stood from the bed and stepped to him.

“And, really, what does it matter right now?” I asked, lowly, holding a hand to his face. He leaned against it. I was almost ready to start begging. “I am not falling pregnant tonight. We have time to learn these things, if we want to learn them at all.” I lifted onto my tip toes, brushing my lips to the hollow of his cheek.

“Just come to bed,” I whispered there, and I saw his eyes fall shut, his dark lashes against his sharp cheekbones, as he turned to meet the slant of my lips.

“I want to be good at it,” he murmured against my mouth, as I dragged him toward the bed.

“Then you will be,” I insisted just before he cradled the back of my neck, sinking into our kiss as we tipped toward the mattress.

We have time. It’s an easy lie to tell when you’re in Faerie. Time stretches on, limitless and unending. There shouldbe time, endless amounts of time, to learn all you need to know – about anything. There should be time to become the person you’d always wanted to be.

I had had two months since that first conversation. Even less time since the others. In Faerie, that’s hardly a lunch hour.

I am reeling. I’m in Target with a red basket full of prenatal vitamins and snacks and pregnancy books, and I am absolutely reeling.

After I check out, I find Cardan sitting on the curb with a Starbucks bag that’s the size of a large gift bag and two venti Frappuccinos. The one he’s nursing is strawberry-pink and looks full of cream.

“They didn’t have wine,” he tells me, handing me mine. It’s drizzled in caramel, and I’m not sure it’s what I would have ordinarily chosen, but right now, it smells perfect.

“Probably for the best,” I say, and hazard a glance at his expression. It’s dark and troubled again as he squints against the sunlight. His legs are drawn up, and he’s resting his elbows on his knees, like he’s hunched under a weight. Reality’s given him a hard jolt since he kissed me in front of the newborn onesies.

I take a long sip of the Frappuccino through the green straw.

“Cardan, if you don’t want to do this--” I start, and his head jerks up.

“I have always wanted this,” he snaps, looking defensive, and then he’s looking at his boots again.

“Okay.” I sit back, extending my legs.

How do I do this? I have no blueprint for this. Floundering, there’s only one rope I know to pull, the one that’s always saved us: honesty.

So, I go on.

“I’m terrified, too,” I say. I spread the yellow fabric of my sundress over my knees. “If that’s any consolation. I think I’ll be happy eventually, but right now, I’m completely freaking out. I can hardly form a coherent thought. How many cake pops did you get?” I cock my head at the large Starbucks bag.

Cardan shifts it in my direction.

“All of them,” he says, glumly.

I raise my eyebrows as I peer in the bag. Oak will be excited, at least.

“I hate myself for being so terrified of a thing I desperately want.” I look up at Cardan’s confession to see his face twisted in loathing, and my heart twists right along with it. I know this pain, the agony of fearing what you love.

I could lie to him; I probably should. I should tell him right now that I know without a shadow of a doubt he will be a perfect father, that he’s beyond everything that had been done to him, that none of it had ever touched me either. But I don’t lie to him anymore.

Instead, I hand him a cake pop.

“That strikes me as a waste of energy,” I say, and nudge him with a coy smile. “There are so many other things you could hate yourself for.”

He gives me a wicked smirk and, instead of taking the cake pop I’ve offered, he seizes my other wrist and takes a large bite out of the one I’d claimed for myself. Feigning exasperation, I stab at him with the leftover stick.

“Does this not strike you as problematic?” he asks a moment later, his cheek still full of cake.

“Yes.” I reply with a stoic nod. “The fact that you just ate a pregnant lady’s cake pop is both striking andproblematic.”

“I mean this repartee you and I enjoy.” He wipes at a bit of icing at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “A child ought to know his father loves his mother and vice versa, should he not? I would think that sort of thing helps.”

I feel the heartbreak behind his words as if it were my own. In his mind, he’s now on an endless search for every moment in his childhood that went wrong, every little action he ought to do the opposite of. I know. My mind’s been doing it, too.

I scoot a little closer, nearing his warmth, so that I can lean against him. He rests his head on top of mine.

“But you’re my nemesis,” I say, softly.

“Jude,” he says it like he’s scolding. “Not in front of the children.”

“Do not say ‘children’.” I jab him again as he presses his lips to the top of my head. “Your wishes are too powerful, and there is room in here for only one.”

Cardan’s slipped an arm around me, and I tilt my head back to look at him. The corner of his mouth is tugging upwards, slyly.

“Tell me I’m too powerful again,” he murmurs as he kisses my cheek.

“Later,” I promise, and I reach for another cake pop.

There will be time for all that later.

It’s a lie I get used to telling.

------------------------------------

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[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Fourteen | Run!

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Alternate Chapter Title: Darmstadtium, Protactinium, Chlorine, Thorium, Oxygen

• • •

Sun pours through windows with half-open curtains, waking you up.

The emptiness of a bed too large for one person hits you and prompts you to feel around with half-lidded eyes, still too groggy to assess the state of your surroundings. You search for your glasses by the nightstand, pick them up, and slip them on, clearer vision helping you with your tired gaze. Then, you stand up and stretch, allowing yourself some time before you adjust to the changes. Faint snores from a corner of the room make your head snap towards the noise. There, you see Sans draped over a couch, with a beach towel taken as a makeshift blanket. Even with the uncomfortable posture he seems to hold and the general hardness of the couch, he's out like a light, chest rising and falling in a consistent, slow motion.

If you remembered correctly, you'd made space for him in bed, too used to sharing your bed with Frisk, Aunt Brenda, other family members, and close friends for you to feel even remotely awkward about sleeping with someone in the same space. Sharing it with family was a common thing whenever large, holiday gatherings took place, whereas Frisk climbed in whenever they had a bad dream, and friends stayed when they had nowhere else to go. Having someone beside you wasn't uncommon; if they needed somewhere to stay, you would provide them with it, yet you'd forgotten to ask Sans last night if he felt the same way about that. Him sleeping on the couch reveals he doesn't.

You approach his side as quietly as you can manage and bring your arms around his waist, lifting him up. He proves to be lighter than expected as you carry him off to bed, set him there, and drag the sheets over him. As inopportune as it is, you're soon reminded of yesterday and the whole dating situation you'd both discussed when you stare at his face for a little too long.

'What happened to you yesterday?', 'Were you drunk?', and 'Why did you kiss him more than once?' are just a few of the many questions you could (judgingly) ask yourself in front of the bathroom mirror.

Sure, you'd only ever dated one other person before you settled down with Jerry, only to end up as a single parent and then have little to no interaction with him or anybody else for the next seven years, but that couldn't've been enough to have brought the impulse for you to date a stranger… Right?

You weren't desperate!

As you continue chastising your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you hear a knock on the door, halting your judgement. 

"You there?"

You want to disappear, and maybe time travel to change things up a bit.

"Uhhh," you say, words about as flowing as a carefully recited poem. "...Yeah."

"...You doing okay?"

"I think so."

Such a blissful moment had to have its consequences. Maybe then you were too happy to care, but now that you consider the fact you'd kissed him more than once -- even if it wasn't on the lips -- and stayed a night all alone with him at a shady hotel makes this an experience you would rather forget. "Did you think I left without you?" you ask, stepping into the shower. You don't undress yet, anticipating an answer.

"I might've," he replies, chuckling. "Yesterday was really somethin' else."

"That's an understatement."

You take off your clothes, turn on the shower, and stand under it for a while. Your attention goes to the lowermost part of your abdomen, where you can see a bit of pudginess at the sides -- or 'love handles', as the skeleton called it. The steam makes your glasses fog up before you can stare and think about that for much longer. "...Did I really wear a swimsuit yesterday?" you ask, in denial. You slip them off and place them nearby.

Sans's voice turns faint with the sound of the water running, yet you can still hear when he replies with, "A one-piece, yeah. It, uh, looked good on you, though."

The conversation ends as you huff and continue showering. While you do, distant sounds of someone else present in the room bring back memories from when you used to live with more than one other person aside from Frisk. It's strange to hear noises outside your own and theirs.

You finish up with that thought still on your mind, lingering until you turn the water off; you then proceed by taking a towel and covering yourself with it. Approaching a basket with yesterday's clothes now clean and dry is the next thing to play with your memories and customs, again used to being a family of two after seven whole years carrying on with the same routine. Still, you dismiss those thoughts and remind yourself it's no time to be daydreaming.

You barely knew the person you're sharing a room with, and the history behind him and all the other monsters you knew was still something you couldn't let go. Even if you'd been the one to end up Underground, you couldn't imagine yourself sacrificing your own life -- not because you didn't want to save them, but mainly for those you had to look after. If you'd chosen to give up your soul for the sake of an entire race, then what would've become of Frisk's future? And if you'd fallen in place of Frisk, who was to say you would've been capable of finding an alternative like they had? The reminder they managed to come out alive while also fulfilling that goal makes you wonder if life's even possible to do without hurting others in the process. Then again, emotions can be messy; the mind itself is a whole complicated thing on its own.

If one gains, someone else loses. You can't live life without affecting someone else's, and aiming to please everyone is like trying to make water less wet. To be happy and choose a better path, sacrifices have to be made, and being wholly good and giving isn't as easy as it seems when you have difficulties to face day after day.

"Did you enjoy your stay?"

Your existential crisis ends at the sound of Mettaton's voice coming from outside the bathroom. You grab your clothes, slip them on, and take a step away from the door, still able to listen in on the conversation with how thin the walls are. You wear everything except your old shirt, this one still stained even after having thrown it to wash in the hotel's laundromat. To replace it, there's a plain and baggy, white t-shirt at your disposal -- not quite matching with the rest of your outfit, but sufficient to make do while you made it back home.

"It was nice," Sans replies, words cut short. His tone reveals he's far from wanting to have a talk with the robot, but the latter persists. 

""I'm surprised you hit it off so quick," Mettaton says, chuckling. "It hasn't been a year since we left the Underground, and yet you already have a date! You're honestly the person I least expected this from." 

The conversation's muffled out as Sans talks quieter. Mettaton, on the other hand, doesn't catch on. "What do you mean you two aren't dating? I saw you kiss!"

The skeleton continues to keep his tone at a low level, yet -- once more -- the robot fails to follow up with him. "But that's boring!" You can almost hear him pout. His voice sounds more annoyed than you could possibly imagine anyone to feel about a topic like this one. "And here I thought I'd caught something worth teasing you for! Talk about disappointing."

You wait until the two stop talking to exit the bathroom, Mettaton already gone by the time you step out. Sans sits by the edge of the bed and stands up when he sees you arrive. Awkward silence stays as you both look at each other for a moment, broken when you ask, "So, you told him?"

Sans nods and picks up his towel when you signal for him to use the bathroom. "I did," he says, walking off. He then waits beside the door, continuing with, "He's not too good at keeping stuff secret, but he promised not to talk about it in front of Frisk." The door opens and the leftover steam contrasts with the cold of the bedroom. The latter wins instantly, air conditioner on. You observe him as he steps in, looking about as tense as you feel right now. "Your phone was ringin' while you were showerin', by the way." With that, he closes the door, leaving you to check in on what he'd said. 

With steam no longer an obstacle, you slip your glasses back on, approach the dresser, and pick up your phone; your house number is the only missed call.

The person on the other line responds lightning fast, hardly giving it a chance to ring more than once.

"Are you okay, (mom/dad)?" Frisk's voice asks, words rushed. The phone wavers in your hold. They sound too frightened for someone who'd adventured alone at the Underground, yet what they say next brings you back into calm, "There was a bad storm yesterday, so I got worried." They stop and sniffle before they continue on. "Undyne said you were okay, a- and that you stayed at Sans's place, but… But I still missed you." You can hear them breathe in and then out, huffing after. "And then Jerry came around as soon as the storm calmed down, but when we said you weren't home, he talked about how you were being irresponsible again. But then he left a gift for you, and now I'm confused. Does that mean he still likes you?"

"One thing at a time, honey," you intervene, laughing when you notice Frisk plans to keep on rambling. "I'm fine, and I'm still at his place." You let out a sigh and bring a hand to your forehead, rubbing your temples before keeping up with their rant. "And I'm not sure what Jerry's thinking, but this isn't really the time for us to be talking about that right now." Your eyes wander over to the alarm clock set by the nightstand, eight thirty in the morning flashing on the screen. "More importantly, did you have breakfast? I should be back home in an hour."

"I did! Undyne watched over me while I made something."

"That scared of her cooking?"

"She burned her house last time!"

You sit down on the couch once setting the pillows aside. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and the awkwardness of your situation feels less daunting the more you talk with Frisk. "What did you make?" you ask, propping a leg over the other. You lay back and close your eyes, achieving comfort.

"I made pancakes! I'll cook some for you when you get here."

At the sound of the bathroom door opening, you open your eyes, look there, and carry on with your conversation when you see the monster hasn't made it out yet. "Thank you, dear. Did you teach her while she looked over you, by any chance?" Your posture on the couch straightens as soon as Sans step out, tension returning.

"I did," they reply, giggling. "She said she's gonna make some for Alphys next time they have a sleepover together."

With a few more questions and answers, the conversation reaches an end.

You say your farewells and hang the call, standing up when you realize Sans has disappeared. You then look around from corner to corner and reach the bathroom when you notice he's nowhere to be seen. The door's left open, though right as you're about to delve any further inside, you see someone emerge from behind the shower curtains. Your eyes close on instinct, and you turn around -- ready to apologize -- up until you hear him chuckle. "You can look. I'm just washing somethin'," he says. When you look at him, he hands you your shirt, now a bit dampened. The stain's fainter than when you took it to the wash, revealing the monster's whereabouts. "I tried cleanin' it off with some soap n' shampoo, but it didn't really work."

When you take it back, only one question rests in your mind, and that's, "Was this unintentional, or are you trying to gain another date?" You bite back a smile, in wait for his reaction.

You fail in an instant, allowing him to grin and reply with, "Whatever you want it to be." He winks. "Either way, I think I still owe ya dinner at my place."  

You walk with him out of the bathroom and step into the cold. The reminder you have to be back in an hour falls on you, urging you to check the time and search through your pockets for your wallet. From there, you pull out an envelope and hand it to him. "I have to go now, but here's this." Again, you shuffle through your wallet's contents, retrieving a note with your home's phone number scribbled on it. "And here's my house number." Quickly, you lean down and kiss his cheekbone. "Thank you for the date, Sans. I had fun." When you move back, he's a little less tense, though you can still catch onto a subtle mark of embarrassment on his face. "I'll take the bus. But call me if anything happens, alright? Cars can get damaged with the weather."

Slowly, he nods, saying, "Alright. See you later, (Y/N)."

"See you later, Serif."

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