#do I think she cheated on Henry as he claimed? no

[gabbrietteleighbechtel]

Me, every time someone insults/diminishes Catherine of Aragon in order to uplift Anne Boleyn (It’s actually worse when it comes from a ‘historian’)

[buckyscrystalqueen]

More the Merrier: Part 4

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter

Warnings: Swearing, Polyamory, Heartbreak, Mention of Near Drowning

Word Count: 2,998

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re drooling.” Bucky said to Henry as he sat at the breakfast table in your hotel suite in Sydney, Australia. Henry startled and looked away from where you and Natasha were making out in the hallway in only your bathing suits. 

“Whoops?” Henry said with a chuckle as he turned back to make himself and you a cup of coffee.

“Hard not to, I know.” Bucky confirmed as he watch the pornographic way Natasha pulled your hips along her thigh. “Ladies! It’s almost time to go, not time to get off!”

“You suck.” Nat huffed as she pulled away, making you whine loudly.

“I was so close!”

“I’ll finish you off in the Uber.” She teased as she kissed your nose and continued down the hallway to the kitchen. “Where’s Steve?”

“On the phone with work, I think.” Henry told her as he handed you your coffee and kissed your temple. “He’s in his room.”

“Steve, let’s go!” Nat called out as she poured herself a cup of coffee, splashed some cream in it and downed it is a handful of large gulps. She looked around at the four of you staring at her in show and simply shrugged. “Steve!”

“Coming, coming!” He called out as he came out of his room. “Sharon says hi to everyone.” Nat huffed and rolled her eyes and Bucky quickly redirected Steve so he didn’t see it as everyone grabbed their beach bags to head to Bondi Beach for the day. The five of you headed down to your waiting Uber and headed to the beach, laughing and talking about everything, anything, and nothing at all. 

“You doing okay?” You asked Henry quietly when you got to the beach. He smiled and nodded his head as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

“I love this family you have created, (Y/N).” He confessed as rested his chin on your shoulder, forcing the pair of you to almost frog march down the beach. “I want to be a part of it.”

“Really?” You asked as you stopped walking to turn around to look up at him with hope glimmering in your eyes. He nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you and you instantly jumped into his arms. 

“Come on, guys keep up.” Steve laughed, making Henry pull away to hike you up in his arms more so he could carry you to a open spot in the sand the family was claiming as theirs for the day. The second he dropped your bags, Henry took off running toward the ocean between the red and yellow flags, causing you to scream laugh the whole way. He dove into the waist high water and dunked you under before pulling you back up so your head was above water.

“I’m falling for you.” He told you as he pulled you back into his arms and held you close. Your smile nearly broke your cheeks as you ran your fingers through his hair and nodded your head.

“I’m falling for you, too.” 

“I’m not sure about Bucky.” He said as he brushed his fingers down your spine. “But he is attractive. I need to get to know Natasha more but again, the attraction is there. I’m not so sure about Steve though. I get a weird vibe from him.”

“Give it time, baby.” You told him as you wiped the water off your face. “It took me a while to wrap my head around the concept that polyamory wasn’t cheating to be able to accept Bucky and Steve into my life in the capacity that they are.”

“I know what you mean.” He agreed a moment before the pair of you were tackled into the water by Bucky. And that was pretty much how your day went. Lots of sun bathing and playing in the water as Henry got closer to your family. 

——

“Hey, we almost ready to go?” You looked up at Bucky through your sunglasses and shrugged your sun kissed shoulders before looking over at Nat.

“Yea, we can go.” She said as she looked over and gently prodded Henry awake. 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked as your cell phone started to ring in your bag. You shrugged your shoulders and reached into your bag to grab your cell but your brow furrowed when you saw who was calling. 

“Why is Sharon calling me?” You asked, rhetorically. “Hello?”

“(Y/N)?!” She barked, which made you startle the slightest bit. “I just got a call from Steve’s phone about an unidentified man that was drowning from the Bondi Beach lifeguards. What the hell is going on?!”

“What?!” You shrieked as you jumped to your feet and looked around the beach. “Why would you get the call that Steve was drowning?” Your family all jumped to their feet beside you and Nat started to panic.

“I’m his emergency contact.” She said as you pointed to a group of lifeguards that were surrounding a man a couple hundred feet away. You quickly hung up the phone with her, ignoring her sputtering and tears and took off running, hoping they would follow you. You made it to the group just as Steve started coughing and spitting up water as the medics simultaneously got to him as well. 

“Why did Sharon get the call?” Henry asked as he carefully held you back as Natasha dove into the fray and grabbed her husband’s hand.

“She’s his emergency contact.” You said weakly, not knowing what that meant for his and Nat’s relationship. Her head whipped up toward you in shock and she blinked a few times before looking back down at her husband.

“Why is Sharon your emergency contact?!” She demanded, causing the color to drain from Steve’s face, which instantly concerned the medics and lifeguards alike. 

“OK, we need to get him to hospital.” One of the medics said as they loaded Steve onto a spinal board. Bucky stepped up and gently stood Nat up as she asked her question again.

“Not now.” Bucky said as he turned her toward you and looked at Henry. “Take the girls and go get our stuff. I’ll ride with him and call you when I know what hospital we are going to.” With a nod, Henry turned you and Nat back toward your stuff while ordering an Uber Premium on your phone. It took 30 minutes for your car to arrive and to get the name of the hospital from Bucky but once you were on your way, Nat turned to the pair of you and finally asked the question you were all thinking.

“Is he gunna be alright?”

“Yea, my love. He will be.” You sighed as you wrapped your arms around her. Henry hugged you both to him as the car pulled up to the hospital and he grabbed your bags as you got out of the Uber to figure out where Steve was. Bucky met you in the lobby and took you back to Steve’s room, where he was sitting up in bed, waiting to be taken back for scans.

“Why is she your emergency contact?” Natasha asked immediately upon seeing him, which made you and Bucky groan.

“Nat…”

“No, I have the right to know.” She demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him with her eyebrow raised. “Tell me.”

“Natasha, just leave it alone…”

“No, damn it!” She said loudly and you quickly shut the room door with a wave of apology to the nurses at the desk in the ER. “Tell me! Why is she…”

“Because I married her!” You choked on spit and started coughing profusely and Henry rubbed your back as Bucky grabbed a stock still Natasha around the waist.

“You son of a bitch.” She started as the fight built in her core before she lunged at her husband. “You son of a bitch! I gave you everything!” She screamed in Russian as she fought tooth and nail with Bucky to get to Steve. “Everything and this is how you repay me?! We are through! Over! Get out of my house! Get out of my fucking life! How fucking dare you!”

“Ma’am…” A nurse said as she came into the room to take Steve to do his scans. “We need you to calm down or we will have to ask you to leave.”

“We’re stepping out for a moment.” Bucky said as he hauled Natasha out of the room. You didn’t even realize you were crying until Henry turned you away from Steve and led you out the door and the world around you blurred. Natasha continued to rage as she was physically picked up and carted out of the hospital to a bench outside. After a moment or two, she simply collapsed and started to sob.

“I know.” Bucky said as he picked her up and put her over his lap so she was straddling him. “I know, baby girl, I know.”

“He married her.” She sobbed over and over again as you held on to Henry with your face in his sandy shirt. He rubbed your back and whispered reassurances in your ear, while Bucky worked on calming Natasha down.

“I want him gone.” She finally said once she had calmed down enough. “I never want to see him again. She can have him.”

“OK.” Bucky said as tears welled in his eyes because his relationship was imploding as well.

“Sharon’s on her way.” You said, solemnly as you looked at the text message that came in a few moments later. 

“I want to leave.” Nat said as she stood up from Bucky’s lap. “I want to go home.”

“OK, just… ok… just let me…” Bucky tried as he looked back and forth between the angry woman in front of him and the building behind him, torn about what to do.

“James Buchanan!”

“Natasha give him a second.” You said softly as you reached out for her arm but she ripped it away from you.

“No! He turned his back on this family and…”

“And what, Natasha?!” Bucky demanded as he turned around toward her. “He’s still our husband…”

“He’s her husband now!” She snapped back. “So are you staying here with him or are you coming home with me?”

“Tasha, don’t give him an ultimatum like that.” You tried, but she whipped around and pointed at you. 

“Stay out of it!”

“Natasha!” Bucky barked as he grabbed her upper arms and gave her a little shake. “Stop! OK, just stop for a second. I get that you are angry, you have every right to be. But just stop for a moment. Heartbroken or not, we love that man in there. He’s still part of our family, like it or not! And we do not turn our backs on this family! So just chill out and let me fucking think for a second, alright?!” He stared her down for almost a full minute before she deflated and started to cry again.

“He doesn’t love me any more.” Was all she could get out before dissolving completely.

“We don’t know that.” Bucky said as he pulled her back into his arms and held on tight. “We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do.” She whispered against his chest with a sad nod of her head. “Yea, we really do.”

——

“So how long have you two been married?” Bucky asked as calmly as he could as he sat with Natasha in his lap in the living room of your suite after Steve had been discharged from the hospital with no injuries. You snuggled in to Henry’s chest on the other side of the room and adjusted your wrist brace that you had taken off to go to the beach, which you regretted doing because your sprained wrist was now sore. 

“9 months.” Steve sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair and gripped the strands tight. Natasha opened her mouth to yell but Bucky squeezed her, because they both agreed that Bucky would do all the talking. 

“9 months.” He repeated with a nod. “Okay, why didn’t you tell us?” Steve groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He said as he gestured to the pair in front of him.

“Okay, well obviously that was the wrong thing to do.” Natasha snapped, but Bucky squeezed her again and she shut up. Bucky stayed silent for a moment before asking the one question that no one wanted to ask but everyone wanted to know.

“Do you want out of the family?” Steve teared up and looked down at his feet before subtly shaking… and then nodding his head. Instantly, Natasha got up and walked to her room, slamming the door behind her and a loud wail filled the air. Tears filled your eyes and you hid in Henry’s neck as Bucky simply stared at his childhood best friend.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered as Natasha’s sobs quieted down; probably because she was face first in her pillow. A rapid knock at the door made you jump and Bucky got up and gestured to it with his thumb.

“That’s your wife.” He spit with venom lacing his tone as he walked into Natasha’s bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Steve glanced over at you to see how you felt, but Henry simply shook his head and hugged you closer. With another sigh, Steve got up and opened the door to let Sharon into the suite.

“Come on, baby.” Henry said softly as he gave you a light squeeze. “Let’s go lay down for a bit before dinner.” You nodded your head and shifted in his lap to get up but he simply swept you up bridal style and carried you into Natasha’s room with the other’s. He laid you down beside Nat in the center of the bed and crawled in after you with a sigh as you wrapped your wife in your arms and held on tight.

“You’re not leaving because of Henry, right?” She whispered to you and you adamantly shook your head. 

“Never.” You whispered back as you held her tighter. “I’m never going anywhere. You are my wife and Bucky is my husband. And when I said ‘I do’, I meant forever.” She nodded and cried even harder as she tangled her fingers in your hair and held on for dear life. You could hear Sharon’s voice for only a few minutes before the front door to your suite opened and closed behind the couple, plunging the rest of the suite into silence. This caused Bucky to finally break and tears started spilling from his eyes as well.

“We’re gunna be okay.” You whispered as you reached out to pull him into Nat’s back tighter so that you were all as tight together as you could possibly be. “It’s all going to be okay.” Minutes turned to hours of just laying in bed before Natasha cried herself to sleep and Bucky got up to take a shower to wash the day off himself. Knowing she was passed out, you rolled away from Natasha and looked up at Henry.

“Please don’t ever make me choose.”

“Never.” He whispered with a shake of his head as he pulled you tightly into his arms. “I will never make you choose. Never in a million years. I’m in this family now and I’ll never make you choose.” You nodded your head and sniffled before pulling back away from him.

“Will you hold her while I go shower with him? He doesn’t need to be alone.” 

“Of course, darling.” He said as he got up to let you off the bed. He gave you a kiss before letting you go so you could stumble into the bathroom where your husband was just standing at the sink, staring at the marble countertop. 

“Come on, handsome.” You said softly as you stepped out of your bathing suit and pulled him toward the shower stall. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

“He left us.” Bucky whispered as you stopped in front of him and with a nod of confirmation, you turned in front of him to wipe his cheeks off with your thumbs. 

“Yea baby, he left us.” He nodded numbly and let you pull him down for a chaste kiss before you grabbed the body wash Natasha packed and lathered up a wash cloth. You cleaned him from head to toe so he was devoid of sand and once you were done, he had compartmentalized his feelings enough to wash your body and hair for you. Once you were rinsed, you got out and grabbed towels to dry off and figure out dinner for everyone. You found Nat and Henry making out in bed and a small smile spread across your face.

“He’s a good kisser, right?” You asked as you sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. She blushed and pulled back to look at you with a shake of her head.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“Don’t apologize.” You said as you shook your head. “Henry is part of this family now and he is up for grabs for whomever wants a relationship with him. If that’s you, then so be it. Just because I found him first does not mean that I call exclusive dibs on the man. Shit.” You said as you looked off to the side. “I need to tell Ashley I stole her ranch hand.”

“Already did, baby.” Henry chuckled as he stood up and stretched. “Tasha, want to go shower with me before dinner? I’ll wash your hair.”

“He’s super good at it, too.” You told her as you reached out to give her a light spank. “Trust me. I know from experience.”

“Alright, figure out somewhere close to do dinner. Like within walking distance please.” Nat said as she rolled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. “Some place that sells margaritas!”

Part 5

[horizon-verizon]

I always wondered why Daemon Blackfyre didn’t claim it through Daena; it always seemed to me the better argument than Naerys cheated because that can never be proven, and, sadly, it seems very unlikely.

GRRM likes taking things from history, so it always struck me as odd that not once did a guy make a bid for the throne from a woman's lineage. That happened a lot in history. Henry II claimed the English throne through his mother, Empress Matilda; the Yorkists drew their claim through Anne Mortimer, the cognatic heir of Lionel of Antwerp, who was the 2nd son of Edward III, over the Lancasters, who drew their claim through the 3rd son of Edward III; Edward III himself claimed the French throne through his mother, Isabella of France, when her brothers, Philip the Fair’s sons, died without male issue, beginning the Hundred Years’ War. The English/British/UK monarchs didn’t even drop their claim to the French throne until the year 1800, almost 500 years after the claim was first made. It seems like a waste not to utilize that storyline.

And yes, Aegon III got his claim from Rhaenyra, but the throne was more or less given to him; he didn’t put forward his own claim and fight for his right to rule like the people I mentioned above did. He was too young to make his own bid for the throne, is what I’m saying.

Watsonian: Daena was already disposed, as opposed to those other women men use to claim the throne in ASoIaF (in Robert Baratheon's time, he didn't use his Targ grandmother to justify his taking of the throne but it certainly helped that the maesters decided to speak of Rhaelle 🤫). And Daena had been imprisoned for years, she had little resources or connections to herself at court. It doesn't hit as hard to use the woman who has little to nothing material on her side to claim the throne and especially when women in the Targ succession line had been tacitly officialized as...undesireable. They were just a generation from the Dance when Daena was active and about.

For Daemon's present prospects, it was just better to claim it through his father, the ruling male monarch who favored him all his life, than his mother. There was more political heft to Aegon IV's name than Daena's, and those who wish to gain power and aren't that sentimental or are hyper focused or whatever (we don't know what Daemon was thinking...yet) will use the parent who will get them there. It was Robert's grandmother that the maesters used after all.

Daemon himself was banking on a hypermasculinity & the anti Dornish sentiment to "makeup" for his bastardy and get lords, who despised Daeron II's dealing with the absolute primogeniture-practicing Dornish, to support him

Doylist: Even those men you mention of history use the woman precisely because there is no man they can use.

Daena is worse off than those women in terms of personal power or prestige that any of her kids could have benefited from because of her imprisonment and the fresh-kinda anxiety over strong female characters/female rulers. Daena was a princess...but how far was she able to, again, use that title to gain resources and prestige previously enjoyed by Rhaena the BB, Rhaenyra, Alysanne, etc?

Now, could GRRM write Daena to actually be free and more active at court and give more for her to do while showing how Targ men's power just overshadowed her even without direct PoVs (even the main ASoIaF books have many unreliable narrators as narrators...a PoV can still be a unreliable)? Absolutely, and I think the intention was to show this transition from more power-wielding women into the Blackfyre Rebellions in a more constricted and contained setting (time frame) and so he thought showing the "what could have been" with Daena's imprisonment required a story of her escape and birthing a child.

[reel-fear]

You guys just can’t pick a side can you?

This is one of the most idiotic asks I've been sent and someone once told me if a character is designed to appeal to children that character themselves must be a child. However I will still try to respond to explain why this is not the same situation in a calm manner.

The fnaf novels tied into the games in a way where in my opinion you don't need them to understand the lore, The mimic is a pretty simple concept a robot that copies voices the only thing you miss out on with the books is the backstory which I don't think is super vital but could also be explored in a future game so I don't mind the books being canon. Batim back when DCTL had first come out only revealed a major character's identity in that book. That is bad and I don't agree with it. But I am also against retconning the books entirely since it means said character now has No identity. I am literally not the kind of person this is meant to address...

HOWEVER

The bendy books are beloved, they have great stories, characters and add fun things to Bendy's lore that doesn't exist without them. I personally believe they're not only great by video game novel standards but great by general horror novel standards as well.

Most important though, is that Bendy is a "character-focused" series, but despite this the games lack any kind of interesting characterization, most of the cast don't have established relationships and the ones that do are often relationships that are minor and unimportant. The cast ranges from basically cardboard cut outs who had interesting ideas that were not executed well to basically having nothing interesting about them. See how Henry the main protagonist of the first game BATIM does not have much of a personality nor reacts to much through out the game, thus making it hard to really feel for what he is going through not to mention how he doesn't seem to have been friends with anyone he's encountered.

The books added substance to characters who needed it. They gave Joey a compelling backstory, motivation and a peak into how his mind worked via Illusion Of Living which filled in holes and gaps in Joey's story that the games left wide open despite the fact he's a main villain and very important. His character is vital to BATDR & BATIM, as it is his actions that literally caused all of this besides Henry who could arguably also be said to have started this when he left. The games don't tell us much about either of them. Not to mention unlike Scott who I believe never fully stated whether or not the books were canon, the bendy devs DID say the books were canon until recently which is confusing and frustrating for theorists who kept up with them to be able to know the lore and now feel cheated.

But now without the books Bendy has even more holes in its story, we now don't know who Boris is, why Thomas was suddenly being ominous and evil in BATDR [In The Lost Ones he was shown to be morally grey however since those aren't canon anymore, it seems Thomas just suddenly turned evil bc he felt like it], not to mention Joey now lacks a backstory and everything a lot of fans loved about the way he was written in the books has been thrown away. A lot of relationships, interesting traits and cool ideas about Bendy's narrative and its characters are now suddenly gone leaving us with once again the cardboard cutouts that the games claim are well-written characters. Kress is just a way better writer than the Bendy devs so to see her work tossed aside when she had been told it was canon to this franchise she liked feels offensive and hurtful.

This was only made worse by the fact this news only truly came out in response to multiple instances of whitewashing characters who were previously thought to be people of color in the graphic novel for Dreams Come To Life which itself also was just very poorly drawn, was basically just a worse version of the book it was adapting and had coloring mistakes that made it to the final print.

Meanwhile Fnaf is not a character-focused narrative, at least not to the degree Bendy is. For a while we didn't know who the protagonist of the games was and it also didn't matter. Fnaf's story was fairly simple and more focused on the events that caused the animatronics to attack you as opposed to say how the nightguard was feeling about all this. Thusly Fnaf's books which all told their own stories [most of which were received with pretty mixed reviews might I add] were also kinda wild and strange in the lore they added? Like robot children that also grew up and thought they were human and a lot of stories that didn't feel particularly related to FNAF? More like generic horror stories that sometimes had animatronics instead of any other generic monster.

It was completely natural for people to assume the fnaf books weren't canon, for a while it just didn't seem likely. They also weren't supplying key story information since the games themselves explained their stories well enough for everyone to at least have an idea of what was happening. Fnaf just isn't a character-focused narrative [or at least until Security Breach it really wasn't] the most important thing about its characters was their roles. William Afton as a person isn't super important for you to understand you just need to know that 1. He's the killer 2. He's the father of the main protagonist and 3. He died and is now coming to get you. Run. All of his children are the same, in fact a lot of them don't have names bc their names aren't super important their roles are. The crying child, the dead kids, you don't need to know their whole backstories for the story to work, it's a simple eerie and well written horror story about children dying and becoming vengeful ghosts.

Fnaf then released Security Breach which already made a lot of people frustrated and upset. Not only had it been delayed a lot but the story was confusing and not well written, the game was buggy and nearly unplayable in spots. Etc, etc, the fandom was already rather upset.

Then the dlc came out and while it was WAY better and honestly it's one of my favorite mascot horror games EVER, a lot of people had already long before it came out, placed their bets on whether or not the mimic would show up and therefore make the books canon. A lot of people at that point felt frustrated with how vague and hard to deconstruct the lore already Was so when it turned out the books [or at least the ones with Mimic in them] were canon it was frustrating and I understand why. The books are kinda bloated and have a lot of hit or miss stories so now everyone is wondering which stories are canon and which aren't which is frustrating when you just want to enjoy a story in a game you bought without having to watch an hour long theory video or read the wiki.

Honestly the biggest thing is this ask is very passive aggressive to me for a belief I don't even hold. I'm not super upset the fnaf books are canon, I'm very disinterested in fnaf due to scott cawthon's... Actions but personally I'm of the opinion that as long as a future game explains the mimic's backstory and what it is, then it's fine the books are canon.

Besides fnaf recently made a game literally out of one of the books people liked and it received great reviews [I loved it]. The books are not the problem people had it was the confusing lore. You're literally making up people to get mad at, most of the people who were upset at the fnaf books being canon didn't mind the bendy books not being canon and the opposite was true for others as well. Not to mention you're completely disregarding [in both cases] Why people are mad. It was far more complicated than just books not being canon it was what was In those books.

To imply I'm being hypocritical when you're comparing two game devs who I both dislike and don't support in their actions is very insulting. You just assumed I held this position cause I guess you thought I was stupid? Or you thought that because I don't like the bendy team I must be hypocritical and like fnaf? Either way you literally just assumed something about my beliefs then came to my inbox to mock me for it. I hope you realize how immature and stupid you look right now.

And for the record that goes for all the fnaf fans who mocked or disregarded people being upset about the bendy books not being canon anymore too. If they had simply listened to Why people were upset they would realize it was way more than just people being mad at a retcon.

Anyways of course you're a h*lluva boss fan, that makes perfect sense with how rude you are and the fact you use "antis" unironically. The way you fought so hard to pretend like the poppy playtime devs are the worst people in the world before I had to correct you on all of your info having no evidence, meanwhile you support someone who has been well known for being an abuser, hurting their workers and even transphobic says everything. So long as someone made something you like they can do no wrong right? Well heres some stuff abt Vivzieshit you might wanna look at.

I'm gonna go enjoy thanksgiving with my family now. I hope you learned something about sending weird passive aggressive stuff to strangers about shit they don't think or have ever said. Lmao

[sleepy-achilles]

I’m literally crying! Poor Leon😭

I wonder how Leon’s gonna fight off Ministry🔥

Leon's Nightmare Part 6- Roses

You know, the normal tw of violence and dead people. I'm sorry I'm shit at tagging but..hey, can't win it all.

More importantly, this info is important, Matthew Gomez looks like Henry Cavil and Valentina Addams looks like Jessica Alba. (Yk Leon's childhood friends. I haven't got face claims for cassies friends but yk..they aren't mentioned here so it doesn't matter. She also has more than Leon. Shock)

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

Leon opens his eyes at the sudden weight on his hips. "I can't believe all it took was a cowboy pick up line to get me here" drew huffs above him. Leon glances up at the man in his boxers. Leon himself only in his black skinny jeans and a cowboy hat. Leon can't bring himself to say anything as he rubs his hands up and down drews thighs. "God, does that work on everyone? Save a horse, ride a cowboy? With a lil hat tilt?" Drew smiles flicking his hat. Leon smiles. "Only the pretty ones" the words come out of Leon's mouth without hesitation. Drew flushes slightly. "Guess we better see if its worth it then" drew hums popping Leon's trouser button.

Leon tenses. Drew glances at his face, takes in how his eyes have gone from loving and lust to something dark..something scared. "Lee...we don't have to-" "no. I just...you and the whole world have seen the top half of me but..I.. I wear joggers and tights in the ring for a reason" Leon admits quietly. Drew frowns slightly. Yeah Leon wasn't perfect but in drews eyes? That made him perfect. His upper body was littered with scars. Some from wrestling and others, like his face, from gods know were. Leon didn't say, people didn't ask. "Like I said..we can stop. Get a pizza-" "no. No. I just wanted to warn you." Leon states. "Go on." He nods.

As drew works on his jeans, Leon keeps his eyes on drews body. Something is wrong. Something is missing. That small nagging voice isn't here. He runs his hand up the bigger man's stomach. Yeah, drew was bigger, but he was soft. Perfect. Leon? Leon was small, lean, sharp. Sharp. Yeah, he was sharp whilst drew had some softness to him. He finally looks down when a hand touches his inner thigh, directly on a old burn. "Dre-" "Your still beautiful to me." Drew whispers. Leon's eyes widen.

That voice isn't there.

"Somethings wrong" Leon mutters sitting up. "Your still beautiful to me" drew repeats. Leon looks at him confused. "Drew?" He asks. "Your still beautiful to me" drew repeats again.

Leon closes his eyes and when he opens them again, he's not in his body anymore. His eyes widen as he stares at the bed. A younger him wearing a bright smile as a younger drew explains how beautiful he is.

"Im dead"

And with that the room disappears leaving Leon in a black space. "Oh god" he whispers turning around. "But this..this isnt hell" he mutters taking in the darkness. "And if this is heaven the religious lot are going to be very disappointed" Leon adds. "Tell me about it" a voice calls. Leon turns to see a familiar face. "...Athena?" Leon asks. "Thats grandma to you mister" athena tuts. Leon can't help but smile. He hasn't seen or heard her in so long. "Ministry really didn't want me near you" athena hums walking closer. "Why?" Leon asks. "How do you think skelly keeps you safe?" She smirks stopping infront of him. Leon smiles slightly. "Of course he cheats"

Athena chuckles as she takes in her grandson. "So...what happens now?" Leon asks looking around. "You need to think and think hard. Because it's not your time" athena tells him. "Is this purgatory?" Leon asks. "Who cares? Leon you need to find ministry and kill him." Athena signs. "Why? If I'm dead he's dead. He can't hurt anyone." Leon huffs. "Because it's not your time" athena snaps. "Who cares? Everyone will be better without me." Leon mutters. He winces as a hand clips the back of his head. "And this is our grandson? A quitter?" A deeper voice grunts.

Leon glances back. "Thomas" "Thats Grandpa to you sunny" Thomas warns. "You wanna see what's happening right now? Look. Take a close look" athena orders pushing him towards the side. Leon frowns but listens.

---

"Its been a day. You all need to calm down" Taker sighs. "No, we need to know what the fuck is going on" Kevin growls. "Yeah" hunter nods. "Why the hell did he light our boy on fire! Why is Leon dead and you lot are okay with it!" Kevin yells. "Because ministry was back and clinging to Leon. That's why. The only way to get rid of him was to kill him in Leon's body" Taker explains as drew shrinks back. "So what happens now?" Hunter asks. "Leon has to kill ministry's soul, spirit whatever that parasite is." Taker answers. "And if he doesn't?" Kevin asks.

Shawn hugs himself as Taker avoids looking at Kevin. Kevins jaw clenches. "Taker! You better start-" "Leon's gone forever. If Leon just gives up then he's gone. Never coming back, alright?" Taker snaps. The room falls silent. Drew glances up as Kevin suddenly throws his water bottle across the room and grabs Taker, slamming him against the wall. "Does he know this?" Kevin growls. "Couldn't exactly tell him the plan" Taker growls. "So my baby boy could be gone, forever, just like that?" Kevin asks. Shawns eyes widen as he looks at kevin. Taker frowns. "Kev.." "great. Grand. Just what we need. Another god damn death!" Kevin yells pushing away from the man and storming out. "Kev!" Shawn sighs running after him.

Drew can't help as his eyes widen and water. Taker glances at him. "You did the right thing. Do not doubt yourself or Leon." Taker tells him. Drew doesn't feel that way.

----

Leon frowns. "Scott's having the time of his life by the way" Thomas comments. Leon looks at him. "Can I see him?" Leon asks. "No, sorry kiddo. He's living it up on Scott Island in heaven." Thomas apologises. Leon huffs. "Who knew he'd pull a one way ticket to heaven?" Leon mutters stepping back. "They let pretty much anyone in. You'd be surprised." Athena shrugs. "But..he's happy right?" Leon asks. "Hes proud of you all, if that's what your wondering. He's got another year until he's allowed to do what we do. So prepare for that" Thomas admits.

Leon looks down at his wedding ring. The black band with drews name carved on the inside. "If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for him" athena whispers.

Leon nods. "What do I do?" He asks. "You have to find him in a memory. You have to find him and kill him." Thomas explains. "Alright." Leon nods. "Try find one he's in a lot. I'm guessing he was in that first one" athena comments. Leon's face flushes, immediately grateful he figured it out before that night continued. "Um yeah..he's surprisingly homophobic for a man created from a..well demon who's married to a human man" Leon rubs his neck. "Its not him" athena hums. "Right...feeds off weakness..okay yes...I was the one homophobic...towards myself." Leon mutters. "Dont worry. Your father was the same aswell. And well just like you he still managed to fuck whoever. Same for your pa-" "Alright Alright please" Leon groans.

The pair chuckle and step back. "Just think really hard and it'll come to ya" Thomas states. Leon nods and closes his eyes.

The sound of waves hits his ears. A pair of breast presses against his back, sand under his legs.

Leon opens his eyes. The beach. "I wish mattie would hurry" valentina huffs from behind Leon. "I wish you'd stop putting sand in my hair" Leon frowns as he texts John about whatever. "You love it really" she purs against his ear. He rolls his eyes. "Still can't believe we convinced you to come with us" valentina comments leaning her head back. "My final year of being free before I'm vince mcmahons slave? Imma take it" Leon scoffs. He was finally breaking out from his father's shadow. A solo act. He couldn't wait.

"Which we must celebrate!" Mattie cheers as he falls onto Leon's legs. Leon groans at the weight. Mattie was like Drew. Bigger...safety. Mattie rolls onto his stomach, Leon forces his legs apart to allow the man in. "And the ice creams?" Valentina asks. "Oh I didnt get any" Mattie smiles. "Of course. Because why would you do the one thing we asked?" Leon snarks. He yelps as Mattie manages to push his swin shorts up and bite him on the inner thigh. He brings a foot up and knocks the man in the head as the other two laugh.

It doesn't come.

The teasing voice about his and matties weird relationship.

The laughing continues.

The bite throbs.

Leon closes his eyes as he pulled from his body. "Not with drew...not with mattie or val..." Leon mutters as he opens his eyes. He's shocked as he's stood in the middle of his parents home. He's stood infront of the grand staircase.

"Stay away from us!" His Pas voice echos through the house. Leon's eyes widen. "Hes here.." Leon looks down the hall leading to his father's office before he's running down it. The door opens before he even reaches it, his eyes immediately settling on the skeleton blade handle that would eventually go on to redefine him and his life.

A surge of power rushes through Leon as he grabs it. He examines the blade before taking a deep breathe. "Please...give me one last chance at life..." he whispers as his Pas sobbing picks up. "Now or never Lee.. " Leon mutters before rushing out.

The house begins to fade behind him as he runs upstairs and towards the master bedroom. He stops in the doorway at the sight. Pa clutching baby him close to his chest, John stood behind him against the wall, confused and scared.

Ministry. Ministry walking towards them holding his hands out.

"Stop" Leon growls. And the demon does. He chuckles deeply as he turns towards Leon, his head tilting. "Well well...if it isn't little Leon Michaels, all grown up" ministry smiles. "You know...teenage me always wanted a shot at killing my dad" Leon admits tightening his grip on the blade. "Yeah, I know" ministry smirks stepping closer. "Shame I'm not your dad" he adds. Leon glances at his scared pa. "This is where it all began, isn't it? When you first latched onto me like the parasite you are" Leon asks. Ministry smiles. "It is. Infact..its like a infinite loop. In 30 odd years that baby will be all grown up, stood right there doing this all over again. Your pa will know exactly what your fate is..but he won't tell a single soul" ministry chuckles.

"Oh..that's were your wrong. He will. Atleast this time he did" Leon states moving closer to ministry. "What?" Ministry asks caught off guard. He gasps as the blade is suddenly shoved into his chest.

"Leon....you can't fight him. You won't win. You never will. And it can't be any old knife it has to be the one." Shawn whispers as he massages Leon's shoulders. Leon tenses in his wheelchair. "What?" He asks quietly. "Straight through the heart. Don't even bother entertaining him. It'll be in your father's office. He hadn't put it on display yet." Shawn explains as he removes his hands. Leon turns to look at the man. "Pa?" He asks.

"The others used a normal blade, tried fighting you with hand by hand combat. Not me. I know better, all because of him" Leon whispers against the tallers ear. Ministry grabs him as he chokes and splutters on his own thick tar like blood. "Me and you? We are one in the same. And God I hate it. But I'm not running anymore. I'm not hiding from the darkness anymore. Not like you." Leon continues. "Im not afraid of death anymore." Leon growls as he tightens his hold on the blade. "But you are" Leon smirks as he pulls it up, causing the demon to cry in pain. "Dont keep the devil waiting, old friend" Leon growls as he pulls the blade out and stabs it straight into the mans forehead, right between the eyes.

"You? You have to feed into his fear of death. He doesn't want to die and neither do you." Shawn tells him. "I don't care about dying. You know that" Leon huffs. Shawn kneels infront of him. "You are scared. Terrified. You don't want to die. And you need your dad's help." Shawn explains. Leon's eyes widen. "You know how to stop him" Leon whispers leaning forward. Shawn smiles and cups Leon's face. "You were always a smart boy" he whispers. "You know what you have to do"

Leon glances towards his big brother and Pa. "Thank you" Leon whispers as the demons gurgles and chokes stop. Shawns eyes are wide, full of fear. "Thats not Taker. Taker will be back in.." Leon glances at the calender. "Five months? He'll be a little different but it will be your Taker." Leon explains glances back at his Pa. "Leon?" Shawn asks confused. Leon smiles and nods. "Hi Pa. I..it gets better, I promise. For all of us. But for it to stay better I need you to remember today and I need you to tell that baby about it in the future. You'll know when." Leon explains. "What do I say?" Shawn asks. Leon steps forward. "Here's what you say.."

-----

Taker suddenly groans and starts to choke. "Taker?" Drew asks. This grabs the others attention. "Taker!" Drew yells rushing over to catch the man as he falls. "SHAWN! KEVIN!" Hunter yells. Drews eyes widen as a red mark appears on his forehead. Shawn and Kevin rush in. "Whats wrong?" Kevin asks. "Somethings wrong with dad!" Cassie cries. Shawn rushes over. His eyes immediately see the mark and he smiles. He pulls the collar of takers tshirt down revealing the long line forming on his chest. "He did it" Shawn whispers. Drew examines the mark before looking at shawn. "What?" Drew asks. "He did it. He killed ministry." Shawn smiles wider.

Taker let's out a shakey breathe and his eyes glow purple. Drew steps back as the marks also glow purple before disappearing. "That felt...wrong" Taker mutters. "He did it baby. Our boy did it" Shawn smiles. Taker frowns and looks at shawn. "You...you knew?" Taker asks quietly. "Hes coming home" Shawn smiles ignoring his husband. Kane moves forward, eyes set on shawn. "You knew?" Drew repeats. Shawn senses the sudden shift and backs up. "Its a long story" Shawn states. "We have time" Kevin growls. John suddenly gasps.

"That man was Leon?" John asks. Everyone looks at him. "Ministry visited us and this guy..his face was always a blur for me but he stabbed him...I always thought it was a bad dream.." John explains. "A loop?" Taker asks. "No..he explained how the past Leon's always failed. Died. But our Leon? Our Leon pulled it off" Shawn smiles. "Because you told him the truth. You talked him through it and you set it all up...none of us even knew" Taker mutters in shock. His husband was a smart bastard when he wanted to be. "So..the whole scared of dying thing?" Drew asks. "It was for ministry's benefit. Leon doesn't care about dying" Shawn admits. "Good, because I'm killing the bastard when I get my hands on him" drew growls. "Hes coming home" Kevin sighs. "When?" Cassie asks.

She gets a answer as thunder strikes the valley. "Well someone's home" Taker mutters, still staring at shawn in shock. How long had Shawn had this planned? Shawn managed to remember the details and prepare a whole war plan without Taker or kane ever finding out? Shawn had changed a whole loop, broken it, all on his own. Taker was scared but damn he was also impressed. And surprisingly turned on.

The kids and hunter groan as Taker pulls Shawn into a deep kiss. Shawn gasps but kisses back. He pulls back. "What was that for?" Shawn asks. "That? That's incredibly hot" Taker states. John and cassie gag and hunter groans and complains. "What?" Shawn asks. "You know what. You did this all on your own. You broke a loop. You are a incredibly smart bastard when you want to be and that side of you is so fucking hot" Taker growls. Shawns face burns quickly. "Can we get back to Leon!" John groans. "Of course...um what did you do with Leon's body?" Shawn asks. "Oh it was completely burnt." Taker mutters.

"What?"

-----

Leon's eyes shoot open and he can't fight the groan that escapes him as the bright light blinds him.

The burning sensation racing through his body confirms he's been hit by lightning. He groans as his vision comes too. He rolls onto his back and looks. A tree.

A tree?

The tree on the hill!

He did it!

Leon sits up, way to fast and ends up hunching to the side to throw up. He frowns at the black sludge that came from him.

He's not surprised. The last thing he ate was destroyed in a casket fire.

He takes in the valley as a smile grows. He slowly pulls himself up, his joints groaning and aching. He examines himself. Naked as the day he was born. But the scratch marks from ministry are gone. He smiles and teleports himself back to his old bedroom. He can hear talking downstairs but he'll get to that later.

He grabs some clothes and moves into the bathroom.

He turns his back to the mirror and glances at it. His smile stays. The mark of Undertaker is gone, in its place? Is a scar that is left by lightning. His smile fades slightly when he notices something else.

Roses.

Roses have appeared on his upper back, spreading across his shoulders. He touches them as best as he can and nothing happens. There like tattoos.

Then he thinks back. Roses. Athena.

How could he be so stupid? He still had the scars on his ankles and knees from that time a evil athena used roses to tie his legs up. The thorns and vines left what drew described as beautiful roads up his legs. He glances at how there's only one rose with a vine and it connects to the tip of the lightning scar. He can't help but smile softly. "Glad to have you back Athena." He whispers. Evil athenas Mark would forever be over shadowed by the beautiful spread across his shoulders. He also had a feeling Thomas had something to do with the new scar replacing ministry's old ones.

He discards the shirt and pulls some jeans on. Was this freedom? Was he finally free?

--

Taker shushes everyone as creaking comes from above them. Kane nudges taker. 'Dad' he signs. "I sense Mom as well" Taker states confused. "I'd hope so" a voice calls. Everyone turns and immediately rushes forward. Drew gets there first, pulling Leon into a hug. "Im so sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry" drew whimpers. Leon chuckles. "You did the right thing. I'm sorry for making you feel ten times worse with my acting" Leon huffs as drew steps back. "The marks.." Drew begins as he examines Leon's front. Leon holds out his tattooed arms, Leon's torso arm tattoos were complete again. Ministry's scars had cut through them like ugly..well scars.

Leon slowly turns revealing his back. "The mark is gone..but-" Leon cuts taker off. "Lightning. Struck me nice and hard roughly 5..10 minutes ago?" Leon asks. "And the new tattoo?" Cassie asks. "Grandma's gift to me." Leon admits. Taker can't help but smile and pull his youngest son into a hug. "I knew you could do it" Taker whispers. Leon smiles and hugs him back. "You and your pa ever plot behind my back again and I will kill you both" Taker whispers as he squeezes Leon. Leon winces. "Ah-scar still fresh-" Leon whines. "Yeah, probably my dad's way of punishing you" Taker smirks pulling back.

Leon doesn't even get a second before Kevin has him in a tight hold. "Im sorry" Leon whispers closing his eyes. "Shut up" Kevin growls quietly. "I just need to hold you" he adds. Leon sighs and rests his head against the mans chest.

"Its a cool look to be fair." John admits. "Yeah. You should get a tattoo." Cassie smiles. "No. You." John frowns. "No way" she huffs. Leon turns to his siblings. "I die and this is how you greet me?" Leon asks. "Your alive now" John points out. "Hes got a good point" cassie nods. The others watch as the siblings stare at each other, having a silent conversation. They then watch as cassie and John take off with speed and Leon is close after them.

Shawn smiles and hugs taker and drew close. "Im glad he's back." "I'm glad he's alive and safe" drew sighs resting his head against shawns. "Im concerned about my house.. " Taker frowns at the crashing causing the others to laugh.

----

Athena stands on the stairs platform as the kids run after each other. "He did good." Thomas murmurs. "I told you he would." Athena hums as her husband hugs her waist. "Best thing to ever happen to this family he is." Athena adds as the adults walk in. Thomas looks at him. "Shawn Michaels. Who woulda thought?" Thomas chuckles. "Me." Athena smiles as she looks at the blonde.

Thomas smirks as the blonde looks at them. Shawn smiles softly at them and nods slightly. The pair nod back. Taker glances at them, but unlike Shawn, he sees nothing. "What is it?" Taker asks quietly. "Nothing. Just thinking of a new carpet" Shawn smiles causing Taker to groan and throw his head back.

Shawn giggles as Leon finally tackles John only for cassie to jump on him. "Im glad it's over."

----------------------------------------------------------------------NoTEz

Same

I think.

Depends how yall feel about this part.

If no one likes it then I'll probably.. idk change it.

But if people like it, I'll keep it.

I know the ministry fight wasn't big, but I liked the Shawn plot twist and thought that added more, yk humfp to the situation. Also I hate writing fighting scenes. Which I think is clear in the last part of this in the drew vs Leon coffin match. Which I skiped despite it being the main plot of it.

I also think the idea of Leon, this violent force, using something other than animalistic violence to defeat his biggest foe is true character long term story telling. Yes he stabbed him but it was the brains of him and and shawn that pulled it all off.

I do like updating Leon's character design. So either way that'll stick. Also lightning scars are scary, because of how you get them, but so cool looking.

Enjoy:)

[bethanydelleman]

Lady Susan Readthrough Letters 25 & 26

Summary: Lady Susan related her triumph over Reginald to Alicia. She told Reginald that she would leave the house after their argument, which resulted in a reconciliation. However, she is planning revenge because she was forced to give up the Sir James plan for the present. She tells her friend her next plan is to go to London.

Alicia says town is the best option, as Mainwaring is threatening to visit Churchill (that would be bad!). She advises Lady Susan to think of herself (lol) and leave Frederica behind. She also says her husband will be out of town so they can party like it's 1799.

-+-

Honestly, the best worst line:

Silly woman to expect constancy from so charming a man!

But also, what a tip off for both Willoughby and Henry Crawford! If Jane Austen teaches us to fear anything, it's charming men. I think Wentworth is the only hero who is described as charming...

This is also such a sad commentary on gender dynamics. Mrs. Mainwaring's money was almost entirely under her husband's control. He is now rich and feels able to cheat on his wife without consequences.

Its effect on Reginald justifies some portion of vanity, for it was no less favourable than instantaneous. Oh, how delightful it was to watch the variations of his countenance while I spoke! to see the struggle between returning tenderness and the remains of displeasure.

Lady Susan has this strange duality of being very proud of herself for having the ability to do this, but then also hating Reginald for needing it to be done. It makes me wonder about the mysterious Mainwaring. Because Lady Susan does not like the very placeable Sir James, so maybe Reginald is just too moral and Mainwaring is the happy medium of intelligent and devoted?

Humbled as he now is, I cannot forgive him such an instance of pride, and am doubtful whether I ought not to punish him by dismissing him at once after this reconciliation, or by marrying and teazing him for ever.

The very difficult choice of whether to dump or marry him!

I must punish Frederica, and pretty severely too, for her application to Reginald; I must punish him for receiving it so favourably, and for the rest of his conduct. I must torment my sister-in-law for the insolent triumph of her look and manner since Sir James has been dismissed; for, in reconciling Reginald to me, I was not able to save that ill-fated young man; and I must make myself amends for the humiliation to which I have stooped within these few days.

Poor Frederica! Reginald is being punished for... *checks notes* trying to save a distressed teenager and Catherine must be punished for being smug. I feel so sorry for all of Lady Susan's "humiliations"

Flexibility of mind, a disposition easily biassed by others, is an attribute which you know I am not very desirous of obtaining; nor has Frederica any claim to the indulgence of her notions at the expense of her mother’s inclinations.

Lol, "Being open minded is for suckers"

You should think more of yourself and less of your daughter.

Well... okay.

I would ask you to Edward Street, but that once he forced from me a kind of promise never to invite you to my house; nothing but my being in the utmost distress for money should have extorted it from me.

How intelligent, Mr. Johnson.

Her folly in forming the connection was so great that, though Mr. Johnson was her guardian, and I do not in general share his feelings, I never can forgive her.

We know that Mr. Johnson basically disowned Mrs. Mainwaring over her foolish choice of a husband. And now it is proven to be a foolish choice. One wishes poor Mrs. Mainwaring would have listened.

INSANE Alicia Conspiracy Theory: I feel like this theory gets less crazy the more I write about it. Alicia is actually suggesting that Lady Susan send back Mrs. Mainwaring's husband:

Besides, if you take my advice, and resolve to marry De Courcy, it will be indispensably necessary to you to get Mainwaring out of the way; and you only can have influence enough to send him back to his wife.

Which sounds like what Mr. Johnson would want. After all, it is disgraceful for Mrs. Mainwaring to be abandoned, even if her husband coming back feels icky to us today.

Alicia also advises Lady Susan to leave Frederica with the Vernons, where Frederica will be happy and safe. I'm telling you, she's on Frederica's side. Mrs. Johnson is a double agent!

[smiletimeisrunningout]

the 100 wishlist:

-Marcus Kane: she thought the council rediscussed her pregnancy and still kept her in her cell even if it sorta proved her self-defense claim (you can't kill anyway but I assume there is a bit more leniency if you weren't trying to, you were protecting yourself, and you are pregnancy. At least enough not to be in solitary anymore, but as far as Emma is concerned she should have been freed) but he actually knew nothing of this because they were too busy with the Ark dying so there is a weird relationship right there, between the angry pregnant girl who is kinda giving him a pass while hating on all other people with power, and the guy who is trying to do better now on the ground and who later on is visibly !!! about Diyoza being pregnant ??

-a Bellamy to freak out with questions about his mom and then to freak out even more when he realizes why he's being asked these questions, he was working so hard to 'be better' and protect people and lead, what is he supposed to do with this time-ticking bomb

-all the interactions with Murphy to see what happens in an universe where someone is weirdly caring from beginning to end ?? John Murphy having a tiny blonde girl who finds a little too easy to kill who has his back (possible 'trapped in the bunker together' situation there with the added terror of her pregnancy advancing though) (also he can cook, it's canon, which means he'll have Emma's undying love for that alone)

-interactions with Emori who is now around a girl who would never shun her son even if he was born a mutant and does everything for his sake but doesn't judge Emori herself for her crime-lifestyle, and later on Emma actually tries to volunteer to save her from being experimented on, because she's sure she'll be left to die in Praimfaya anyway and is giving her son one more chance it if the nightblood experiment works and saving someone in the process

-Raven having someone who picks her first even if it's platonically ?? Raven getting this big sister bond and helping Emma out too, she hates asking for help but it's a bit different when it's very mutual

-if it's possible for a Jasper not to completely fall apart after Mount Weather because Emma is not staying too close to a constantly drunk depressed guy while 8-9 months pregnant, maybe not losing it completely because he gets to protect/help someone else (Emma), that same Jasper who started to feel a bit of a spark of life again when he bonded for five minutes with a girl in Luna's place, maybe gets to feel better when helping Emma with baby Henry and going with them all to space later on ?

-Spacekru being a weird family unit to baby Henry though, all the aunts and uncles he needs // if Henry is the bunker and Emma is in space they'd have to keep Emma from dying of heartbreak though

-Clarke finding someone who agrees with literally all of her choices except for the one of forgiving and sorta dating Lexa (never forgive! Never forget!) and regardless of which faction Emma belongs to Emma actually agreeing that Madi should have been left flameless, are you kidding.

-I actually want to write with an Abby and fix the relationship because I like Abby, but I think it would be terrible for the other rper if we don't know each other well because Emma would be an ass.hole for a while and refuse to be reasonable about not hating the adults

-all the other 100s

-the weirdness of 'oh no, it's not that I don't trust Lincoln because he's a grounder, I don't trust him because he's a man' and 'I can understand how a traumatized kid started shooting up a village of Grounders after being terrorized by Grounders all along, I will not excuse cheating' 'I may follow Jaha because Pike is going to kill us all but my god will I feed him to the water monsters if I get the chance'

[alittlebitoftruthcan]

California is the peak of Western culture. People are finished with life, that’s why there are so many cults: Hare Krishna, Moonies, EST, Esalen—all kinds of strange things. You have just to be a little bold and you can make a cult out of anything. Primal therapy, or scream… Nowhere ever in the whole world was anybody so inventive as to make a scream a religion! But in California you can do anything. Hugging therapy! And people are doing it, and paying for it, for hugging therapy! Hugging strangers—you are doing the hugging and somebody else is collecting the fee. You both are giving the fee to a third person, and you are doing the work! It is really great. I was reading a news article some five, six years back. I don’t remember exactly what the therapy was called but I remember the picture that was in the magazine. It was of a naked man going on all fours with his tongue drooping out like a dog, barking. And you have to pay for it! You do the whole job… And people were getting high on it. What else to do? When you have paid two hundred and fifty dollars for being a dog and barking, then it is better to say that you ‘got it.’ Now people are tired of this too. Esalen is dying, EST is finished. EST has been trying—Werner Erhard came to see me in Poona because at that time it had started falling. In California nothing lasts more than ten years. Every fashion… these are all fashions, but no fashion can last long. So Werner Erhard was in search of something—and he found it. In the East he saw the hungry people so he brought back home the ‘Hunger Project,’ and he started claiming that within ten years there would not be a single hungry human being on the earth. People were donating, and nobody bothered to ask, ‘What are you saying? Have you calculated how many people there are? Have you calculated how many hungry people there are? Have you calculated in ten years how many more hungry people will be there? And how many collections can you have?’ But all those collections simply disappeared. Hunger is there; it has not disappeared—it has doubled! But these so-called new cultists are not any better than the politicians. Henry Kissinger was saying exactly the same thing when he was in power, that within ten years there would not be a hungry child around the globe. And nobody asks these people, ‘Now five years have passed; at least half the hungry people should have disappeared, because otherwise how, within another five years, are things going to change? Hungry people have doubled. Hunger has not disappeared; Henry Kissinger has disappeared! Who knows where this guy is? And who cares! Werner Erhard cheated people in every possible way. And the beauty of this is, you cheat people in every possible way. Werner Erhard is a Jew, but he changed his name to a German name because it would be difficult for a Jew to exploit Christians; for that a German name is far better. In some way everything imported is always better. I used to think that this stupid idea existed only in India, but that is not the case. In America nobody bothers with the American guru, but imported from India?—he must be a great guru. Of course India cannot export cars and high technology, but it can export great gurus. And it goes on exporting them—and they all end up in California. When Sheela was looking for a place for your commune, I told her, ‘Beware of California; just keep away from California.’ She said, ‘Why?’ I said, ‘You don’t ask why; you just keep away. Just forget that California exists.’ I don’t want to be counted amongst Indian gurus because I am neither an Indian, nor am I a guru. But what can you do with these crackpot media people? They start calling you something and that’s what you become. Where is Werner Erhard now? With hunger disappearing has he also disappeared? Authentic people?—he left his father, mother, his wife, his children, without even telling them that he was going away. He simply escaped, moving thousands of miles away, changed his name, may have changed his hair-do, clothes, and became Werner Erhard. And his parents, his wife, his children were all dependent on him, they were starving. And he was proposing a hunger project—‘within ten years, hunger will disappear from the world.’ These people are not different from politicians—and cannot be, because this is also a power trip. Things that they are telling people not to do, they have been doing exactly those same things.

Osho (From Misery to Enlightenment)

[briamichellewrites]

14

Brad learnt that the band would be performing with Lost Prophets once more. During rehearsals, he discussed it with the band and with Bria. Chester was doing significantly better. The doctor cleared him, but advised him to stop smoking because he could get another infection. It provided the motivation he needed to quit smoking. It would make his voice sound better while he was singing. Everyone encouraged him to do it. On the subject of performing with Lost Prophets, their tour manager spoke up.

He got an email from their manager. Lost Prophets had disbanded as a result of the incident in Wales and Ian's general behaviour. They would no longer be performing. Everyone was relieved to hear that! It would imply that Bria would be safe. Brad was going to present his ideas. Were they still interested in hearing them? Yes, they were. Okay.

"I was thinking Bria could sit out of this tour. I also considered having her join us in Nuremberg. At the time, I was not sure if Ian would be there. In my mind, I was convinced he wasn't. I know you really want to go to Germany!"

"Fuck yeah, dude!"

They laughed.

"Will we be able to walk around, or will we be staying in the hotel? I was just wondering."

They would stay for two days. The tour manager anticipated that they would have time to do some sightseeing. She held her arms up in the air. They laughed. They had a two-month rehearsal period. She planned to continue performing a cover of her favourite song every night because she did not have many songs to work with. They had no issues with that.

It was going to be fun. Mike planned to meet separately with Rob, Brad, Chester, and Dave to talk about their crush on him. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Anna reiterated that she had no problem with them having feelings for him.

At the end of the day, she was the only person he came home to. He felt extremely grateful for her. They both understood the consequences of cheating and did not want to do it to each other. Bria had good news to share! Joe was already aware, of course! Rob wanted to know what it was. Her dad has a new puppy! What type of dog was it? Scout was a twelve-week-old yellow Labrador. She and Joe met him the other day while visiting Henry. Scout was such a cutie! He loved Joe. They laughed. What did they do?

"We took him outside to let him run around. My father is teaching him how to use the toilet outside. He claimed that earlier, he caught him barking at his own reflection in the wardrobe door mirror. I should bring him in sometime."

Yes! They would love to take a puppy break! How are her parents doing? Her father was doing well. He was continuing to work on his… autobiografie. Mike enquired as to whether she was looking for the word memoir. Yes! He finished his first draft and submitted it for review. Her mother was diagnosed with stage 1 skin cancer. She was scheduled to have surgery to remove it, as well as a lymph node biopsy.

Where was it? It was located on her arm. She and George went to see an oncologist in Los Angeles. They then went to New York for a second opinion after a friend of his suggested it. That was when they received the diagnosis. She had a good chance of undergoing remission. It just depended on whether it had spread throughout her body. She found out when they were in Utah. Michelle was concerned that it would have an impact on the tour.

That is why she avoided mentioning it. They would be thinking of her. She expressed gratitude to them. Cancer was a terrifying experience. Even if the outlook was positive.

Brad corroborated Chester and Dave's allegations. Yes, everyone had a crush on him, except Joe. Mike apologised for his lack of awareness. They sat together on Brad's couch. It would make no difference to their friendship. Brad was concerned about this, which is why he did not say anything. He did not want to risk jeopardising their friendship. Mike wanted him to find someone - man or woman - who would make him happy.

He thanked him. That was something he desired for himself. He suggested that he talk with Joe. Why would he be speaking with Joe? As far as he was aware, he was content with Bria. Yes, that was correct. They could not break those two apart even if they wanted to. He mentioned it because everyone noticed how much he admired him. He thought he could walk on water.

After leaving Brad's, he searched for Bria and Joe. If he found one, he was almost certain to find the other. He discovered them both at her place. They were in the kitchen together looking for something to eat for dinner. They exchanged greetings with him. He returned the greeting and asked to speak with Joe. He followed him outside in perplexity. Was there anything he did wrong? Why did he need to speak with him alone? Mike sensed his anxiety and apologised for not telling him what he wanted to talk about.

"I was wondering what you had heard about Brad, Rob, Chester, and Dave having feelings for me. I just want to make sure everything is clear before we go back on tour.

He nodded. "You only found out now?"

"Yes, Chester and Dave told me. Brad simply admitted to it."

"We love you, Mike! You are the reason we are still together!"

"What about the rumours that you look up to me."

“Yeah. Since college," he admitted, embarrassed.

“Thank you. I apologise for not knowing. That means so much to me."

Joe explained that he only loved women. He laughed and said he was aware of that. When they returned inside, they discovered Bria on her laptop, ordering pizza for herself and Joe. Would Mike like to stay for dinner? No, thanks. He needed to get back home to Anna. They said their goodbyes. He was tired, so he would speak with Rob another time.

He told Anna about what he discovered. It altered his perception of his role in the band. Everyone respected him as a leader. He needed to live up to that expectation because he did not want to disappoint them. Anna paid attention to what he was saying. She did not think it changed anything about his position in the band. He should simply be himself. She did not want him to be down on himself for failing to meet his own high standards. He recognised she was correct.

George was giving an interview when he mentioned being a stepfather for the first time. He was questioned regarding his relationship with Bria. She was the most intriguing person he had ever met. How old was she? She was twenty-three years of age. However, she was occasionally more mature than he was. He brought up attending her concert because she was a rock singer.

He was not sure what to expect. She possessed extraordinary talent. It was a different type of experience. He was unquestionably a proud stepfather. Did she give him any nicknames, or did she simply call him George? She mostly addressed him as "dude." The audience laughed.

“She is just one of those people you meet once in your lifetime.”

He had to learn what his role was as a stepfather because he didn’t want to step on Henry’s toes or undermine him. She was Daddy’s little girl and he respected that. There was still a little tension between them. He could feel it every time they were together. Michelle reminded him not to take it personally. He thought back to the aftermath of the affair. If they would have done it differently, maybe she would be more comfortable with him. He truly wanted her to accept him.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[forwithinthishollowcrown]

ACOB:

Of the couples (from the younger generation) that you listed that get married and have children together, which of them are just together for politics sake and which are genuinely in love with each other?

The Blues

Aegon II-Cerelle; They get married primarily to secure House Lannister's allegiance to Aegon II's claim. They are pretty good friends and get along quite well.

Rhaena-Aenar; Love surprisingly. Of course this was also to help expand House Velaryon's interests as well. Originally she was meant to marry a son of a different Bravosi Sea Lord with Aenar challenging him to a duel which he won by slaying him, he also ended up seizing his lands when they got back to Braavos.

Saera-Lucerys; Stating this right off the back neither expected to be married off to each other. It was just mindless flirting for them. But it's both a mix of politics and love.

Joffrey-Cassandra; They fell in love during a tourney after he asked for her favor. Their courting actually becomes like one you'd see in a song? Like they are my personal OTP here because of how devoted they are to one another.

Gaemon-Daenaera; Love match with a bit of rebellion from Daenaera's side. Think canon!Daemyra's love but without the toxic elements and WAY more secrecy for these two.

Daeron-Helaena; 100% a love match. They are essentially the precious babies of their family, with practically everyone supporting their marriage. Honestly they can do no wrong in their families eyes.

The Blacks

Jace-Baela; Purely political arrangement. Love came a lot later to these two probally after the birth of Viserra? They are often seen racing their dragons or bonding with their children.

Aliandra-Arthur; Political for them. Aliandra marries him to secure her future rulership over Dorne and Arthur marries her for political ambitions.

Visenya-Cregan; Purely political for them both. Cregan sees the advantage of marrying of marrying a princess whereas Visenya marries Cregan to help secure alliances for her mother.

Coryanne-Edric; The circumstances of their marriage is super interesting to me as Adric challenged Coryanne to a duel for her OWN hand and it was agreed if he won she'd marry him.

The Reds

Maegor-Ceryse; I think I've already explain their reasoning? If not then it's mainly due to political reasons as well as to unite both bloodlines of Daemon's two wives.

Viserys-Elaena; They are together solely for political reasons as Daemon was the one who pushed for the match between them. It only helps that this also keeps Elaena from getting too involved with the discourse between Laena and Rhaenyra's kids.

Celia-Rhaenar; Purely a love match. It helps that Rhaenar is also of Valyrian blood for Daemon - personally I see them as Elizabeth of York and Henry VII levels of devotion for them (Rhaenar doesn't cheat on her).

Aemma-Aemond: Pretty sure I already explained this. But it's a mix of both.

[aemiron-main]

LITERALLYYYYY This was killing me during the show, especially since there’s a quite few lines that stuck out to me re: sexual coding during the attic scene.

First of all, Henry says that he’s “never done this in front of anyone,” which definitely has some “first time”/sexual double meaning vibes:

Second of all, Patty asks Henry “are you close?” which, of course, has the obvious sexual double-meaning (if somebody, such as Mr Newby, who already talks repeatedly about being worried/angry about what Patty and Henry are doing alone together was hearing this from the other aide of the door, they would likely think that something very different was going on):

Third, Patty says “it’s not what it looks like,” to Mr Newby re: her and Henry holding hands. And while on the surface, she’s just referring to herself and Henry holding hands, the line “it’s not what it looks like,” is SUPER commonly used in sexual scenes (especially scenes involving cheating/adultery, which is a whole other can of worms on its own re: the implications there with Mr Newby and Patty’s dynamic and the way that dynamic ties into Patty’s relationship with Henry and how Me Newby treats Patty more like a wife than a daughter).

Which, this also ties into something Henry said earlier (right after his line about having never done this with anyone before), because he says “Patty- will you hold my hand?”

And what other handholds have we seen in ST?

Oh, right. The Stancy sex scene. The Stancy sex scene that’s cut with extreme sexual assault-coded scenes of Barb in the UD.

And like James said in his tags, I know some people are going to jump at this & claim it’s weird to point out, but like. It’s in the show. Patty says it herself- this play is all about sex.

So I assume we're just not going to talk about the uh. coding on the attic scene in TFS.

Henry decides he doesn't want to use his powers anymore because he's afraid. He'd rather just listen to music and hang out with Patty in the attic. He tells Patty as much. Patty pressures him, saying she has to do this...despite it being Henry's powers she's relying on, powers he should have the final say about using, since it's his body and mind. He gives in and agrees to go forward with it despite his gut telling him its a bad idea.

Smash cut to him having a nightmare vision forced upon him in the middle of it. Him having his mind invaded against his will while doing something he tried to say no to but agreed to because Patty insisted, despite his protests...and then being left on the floor alone to put himself back together after everything goes poorly. Patty being frightened by Henry's fit of possession, but not being the one whose mind is invaded against their will.

Like...we can all admit it's not a good look for the scene in general, especially not when that same scene includes an immediately retracted "I love you"...Especially since it follows a peer-pressured almost-kiss that Henry literally runs away from, a mind-invasion vision where he physically fights against Vision-Patty, and an ensuing panic attack that gets funneled into a real kiss, one that Henry tries to physically avoid and beg his way out of until he's physically cornered and peer-pressured into standing very still and taking it...in that order.

What would Henry Creel sacrifice in order to be loved and be seen as a normal boy? Or maybe a better question is: What wouldn't he?

[cinebration]

What I Mean (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

Hi lovely! Love love LOVE your work! You’ve got some truly amazing stories 💝 would I be able to request a Henry!Sherlock Holmes x reader one shot where the reader has feelings for Sherlock but thinks that he doesn’t like her at all? — Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: acecroft

The first time you saw Sherlock, you fell in love. It wasn’t because of how he looked or how he carried himself. It was how he brushed past that insufferable Constable Lowell, ignoring the man’s protests with a wave of his hand. The way Lowell became flustered and upset and the way DI Lestrade laughed at him made your heart swell in your chest. After the last five months of verbal bullying from the constable, you were supremely satisfied to see him humiliated.

Sherlock frequently appeared unexpectedly at Scotland Yard. You learned to recognize his presence in the building before you ever saw him. There was something about the way he moved through the place, like it was of little consequence, that you could feel. It reminded you of being caught out in a storm with lightning striking nearby, the hair on your arms rising as static built up in the air.

You didn’t meet Sherlock until your fourth month of employment. What had started as a typing job had turned into secretarial work—with no increase in pay to account for your extra duties. You strode into Lestrade’s office with a thin smile and said, “If I’m going to be mitigating your literacy blunders, I expect to be compensated.”

“That’s out of the question. You are a typist and are paid accordingly.”

“Well, then, in that case…” You dumped a huge stack of folders in front of him. “I don’t need to inventory these.”

Lestrade stared at the stack in displeasure.

“Oh, and they haven’t been properly sorted. I’m only meant to type, not to organize your chaos.”

“Now wait.”

“I expect a ten-percent increase. That’s what a proper secretary gets paid. Oh, and the title. I want everyone to know I am not a mere typist.”

The muscle in his jaw jumping, Lestrade reluctantly agreed. Sweeping the files up in your arms, you strode out of the room, light on your heels.

Sherlock leaned beside the door, a faint smirk playing on his lips. You stumbled, surprised by his appearance.

“I thought I was the only one who could so easily maneuver Lestrade,” he said.

“He makes it too easy,” you managed to say.

Sherlock’s eyes skimmed the files. “They’re already organized, I see.”

“The trick is making him think only I can do this job.”

“Clever.” Then he was in Lestrade’s office discussing a case, leaving you standing there flushed.

~~

Sherlock took to greeting you cordially each time he passed by your desk after the incident with Lestrade. Sometimes he didn’t meet with Lestrade at all, instead opting to leave you with a message for the detective inspector. Sherlock never spent long at your desk, much to your disappointment, but the few minutes he spared you each time were enough to make you float the rest of the day.

You had taken it upon yourself to have all the necessary information on all of Lestrade’s cases close at hand. Sherlock often appeared to ask Lestrade for information regarding something he had read in the paper or heard from others. The first time you furnished him with a small envelope of the relevant information, you had been pleased to see genuine surprise in the consulting detective’s face.

“You are quite indispensable,” he remarked. “I don’t know how Lestrade managed anything before you.”

“Poorly, I would imagine.”

“I heard that!”

Smothering a laugh with your hand, you settled back at your desk and tried to think of something else to say to make Sherlock linger for a few moments. Before you could, he dipped his head and left.

You didn’t know why you kept entertaining the idea of interacting properly with Sherlock. The society rumor mill claimed the man was impossible to nail down and seemed uninterested in any of the ladies. It was supposed he, being an eccentric, was possibly too obsessed with his sleuthing hobby and therefore poor marriage material anyway.

Still, you flirted with the idea until you saw him interact with his sister, Enola. He smiled at her and praised her for a particularly thorny case she had unraveled.

Oh, you thought with dismay, feeling all hope leave you. He treats me like his sister.

The realization settled deep in your bones. It had been fruitless all along, the special treatment you had accorded him, the way he seemed pleased with you.

Of course he was pleased with you, you snarled inwardly. You helped him with his work. Even he suffers Lestrade in order to do that. You are nothing but a convenient secretary he doesn’t need to pay.

You couldn’t bear the thought of making things difficult for him, however, so you continued to keep the case information neatly organized and accessible. While everything in you had changed, the only outward sign of it was a sudden coolness toward him. You no longer smiled easily when he arrived, and you spent most of your time avoiding his gaze, busying yourself with tasks at your desk.

If he noticed, he gave no sign. It was as you had thought. You were of little consequence to him.

~~

A year after being hired, you considered quitting. There was a small detective agency in need of female detectives to uncover unfaithful wives and husbands for divorce proceedings. It would get you away from the stifling atmosphere of Scotland Yard, where the likes of Lowell and his ilk still roamed unchecked. You could do with a change.

You could do with an escape from a certain debonair consultant.

“You can’t leave,” Lestrade declared. “I won’t allow it.”

“Did I sign a contract, sir?”

“No, but why would that—”

“Then I am under no obligation to continue working for you.”

Lestrade sputtered, trying to refute you. “You’re needed here.”

“I know a woman who is as adept as I am at this work.”

“But—”

“I’ve made my decision, detective. Please leave me to it.”

You remained only to show your replacement the way of things and to warn her about Lowell and the others. Only then did you leave and seek a posting in the detective agency.

A day after you had applied and been accepted, you arrived to work in your work clothes, fully expecting to be sent somewhere to survey a cheating spouse. As you walked through the door, you heard exclamations from within.

“Mr. Holmes! What an honor it is to have you grace our establishment.”

You froze in the doorway, heart hammering in your chest. Sherlock’s broad back was turned to you, his face in three-quarter profile. You wanted to flee, to escape the magnetic pull you felt in your presence.

Your new employer saw you past Sherlock’s shoulder. “Ah, here she is.” Waving you over, he watched you walk stiffly down the hallway, your hands clenched into nervous fists by your sides.

Sherlock turned to you, fixing you with those striking blue eyes. You felt trapped beneath them, sucked in their magnetism once more. Swallowing thickly, you nodded. “Mr. Holmes.”

He smiled tentatively at you, revealing the point of a canine.

“Mr. Holmes has requested you for an investigation,” you employer said. “I offered him Miss Hemmings, of course, she being our finest, but he insisted on you.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose. Resisting the urge to scratch, you asked, “Did he?”

“I did. Now, if we could go? We are wasting time.”

Fighting the disappointment rising in you, you followed Sherlock out the door and into a transom. Enclosed in the small space, you couldn’t avoid his scent, a pleasing mix of tobacco smoke and something else. You avoided his gaze, folding and refolding your hands in your lap.

“You left Scotland Yard.”

A statement. You nodded but didn’t offer anything more. “Where are we going?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

You frowned, lifted your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Did I do something incorrect?” A crease appeared between the man’s eyebrows. “Your demeanor toward me changed in the two months leading up to your resignation.”

Toying with the fingers of your gloves, you felt panic clawing up your throat. He had noticed. What did that mean?

“I can only conclude that something occurred, but I can’t determine what.”

You met his concerned eyes. “I…it doesn’t matter, Mr. Holmes. I can do whatever job you need me to with as much professional courtesy as it requires.”

His lips pulled into a thin frown. “That isn’t what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know what you mean, then.”

“Please, you are smarter than that. Or was my regard for you misplaced?”

You blinked in surprise, unsure you had heard correctly. “It…isn’t my place to tell you where to place your regard.”

He laughed then, a sudden HA that made you jump. “You are making this difficult, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am not given over to emotionalism, but I won’t deny that your treatment of me in those last months affected me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“What I mean to say is that I had hoped we were developing a familiarity.” His hand went to his collar, adjusting it. “I had hoped to…call on you.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “To call on me?”

“I had thought my feeling for you was returned, but if I am mistaken, please inform me now to save us both further embarrassment.”

You could hardly speak around the tightness in your throat. “It is returned.”

The smile on Sherlock’s face made your heart ache. “Good. I’m glad we have remedied that. Now, if we’re both to be detectives, then I suppose we had best collaborate. I need you to spy on Richard Haskell. It seems…”

[marvelslut16]

Oblivious

Prompt number: 18 “you don’t see it?”

Fandom: Saturday night live? Pete Davidson?

Paring: Pete Davidson x reader 

Rating: T

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: An asshole cheater. Mentions of Ariana Grande (yes that’s a warning- don’t come for me). Swearing. Mentions of slight sexting- just mentions boobs nothing graphic. Mentions rehab. Slightly angsty ends fluffy.

A/N: So I broke my one rule and wrote for an actual person. Pete Davidson is precious and doesn’t deserve the hate he gets. I was also almost hella basic because I was so close to titling this the king of Staten Island. Anywho, the cheating scum part of this story happened to me and I immediately thought Pete would never do this to me- so I wrote this lmao. I think my love for the Knicks seeped into this story a bit. 

You had been talking to a guy for close to three months now. You thought he was charming, and sweet, and he was built like a god! You’re friends were a little weary, none more than Pete, when you admitted you hadn’t met up with the man yet. Their faces would go from being happy for you to pitting you instantly. But you knew you weren’t being catfished, you video called with Henry multiple times a week. While Henry wasn’t your first choice, he never would be, you were starting to see a future with him. 

But that vision went to shit with one simple text. You had gotten a new bra, maroon and lacy, and boy did it make the girls look good! Feeling a little flirty in your new bra, you texted a picture to Henry to be a little tease while he was at work. Almost instantly you got a text back, and it read; ‘shit baby, you’re tits are way better than my girlfriends!’ with multiple heart eye and drooling emojis to follow. 

You had never felt more embarrassed in your life! And that’s saying something considering Pete makes jokes about you on SNL and in his standup routines, all approved by you beforehand of course. You had met Pete years ago, while he was scrawnier than he is now, had a lot less tattoos, and right when he was just starting SNL. You had bumped into him on the sidewalk while trying to catch a cab in the pouring rain, you expected to be yelled at with a thick New York accent for what felt like the millionth time that day, but it never came. Instead Pete hailed the cab for you but not before exchanging numbers and promising to show you around since you had just moved to the city for college. 

After showing you around the next day, you were surprised when he continued to text you for the next month. To pay him back for his generosity you took him to see a Knicks game, lucky for you your dormmate had a fight with her boyfriend so she sold the tickets to you for dirt cheap. The seats weren’t great, all the way up in the nosebleed section, but you were in Madison Square Garden watching the Knicks! Pete was pleasantly surprised by you when you could name the players and you actually knew how the game was played, unlike girls he had dated. Of course before you left the arena you had to splurge and got yourself a Carmelo Anthony jersey! 

Many years and Knicks games later you’re still friends with Pete. You’d call him your best friend, but you know Colson is his even if he claims it’s you when you’ve asked in the past. You’d be by Pete’s side every time he admitted himself into rehab- making sure you were there to pick him up when he got out. You had been there to pick up the pieces after Ariana- hell you were picking them up when they were still together. You were beside him every time he got bullied off his social media by stupid haters or little Ariana stans after they broke up. He made sure to be at your graduation, and he was there to rant to when you had a bad day at work. Pete was there to hold your hand when you got your first tattoo, which he wanted to pick out for you but you refused. Pete was there to pick up your pieces when a guy hurt you, like right now. 

You’re in his basement, curled into his right side, his right arm slung securely over your shoulder, his fingertips making soothing trails up and down your arm. You had convinced him to watch an old episode of SNL- before he was on it, but new enough that Kate McKinnon and Bill Hader were on it together. You snuggle further into his warm side and let out a content sigh. 

“You were too good for him, (Y/N/N),” Pete finally brings up the elephant in the room. You had hoped that watching an episode of SNL would put the ‘you deserve better than him, he’s just scum,’ talk Pete gives you every time you go through a break up.

“If I was too good for him, then I’d still be with him,” you murmur a line from the movie clueless into his baby pink sweatshirt covered chest. 

“None of these guys deserved you, (Y/N/N),” Pete says sternly, you roll your eyes not in the mood for him to tell you how amazing you are but not make a move on you, yet again.

“Pete, stop,” you pull away from his chest, his arm falling off you as you scoot to the front of the cushion. “I really don’t want to have this conversation again, no matter how many times you tell me I still won’t believe you. I should get going, don’t want to miss the last ferry back to the city.”

“(Y/N), please, wait,” Pete’s skinny fingers wrap around your wrist as you stand and go to walk towards the door. “We just ordered pizza, just stay the night.”

“I can’t Pete,” you whisper, staring down at your sock covered feet, you had gotten Pete to take better care of his hardwood floors by convincing him to have a no shoe policy. “Give some pizza to your mom and your sister.”

“You’re off tomorrow, you originally planned on staying,” if you didn’t know any better you’d say his voice was laced with hurt and disappointment. “Why won’t you stay now?”

“I can’t keep doing this Pete,” loud laughing coming from the studio audience on the now forgotten episode of SNL only seems to be mocking you and your feelings. “Every time you tell me how amazing I am and you don’t- it’s just hard to believe when no one seems to agree with the sentiment.” 

“You don’t see it?” his voice is soft, he stands from his seat, getting momentarily stuck in the blanket that was draped over your laps. “You really don’t see it,” this time it’s not a question, it’s a statement. 

“See what Pete?” he lets go of your wrist to spin you around to face him. 

“That I’m in love with you,” his eyes shine in sincerity, but they aren’t what you’re focusing on. “That I have been since that first Knicks game!”

“You don’t love me,” your voice shakes as you stare at the heart that was once Ariana’s bunny ears peaking out above his left ear. You reach up and gently trace your finger over the heart. “You’ve dated models, and movie stars. You were engaged to Ariana, even after you knew she didn’t want us to be friends. Because she didn’t trust me. You didn’t love me Pete, you chose her, and yet I was still there to pick up the pieces after you ignored me for months, because I love you. Because I didn’t care how much I was hurting, I knew I had to be there to make you feel better, to be able to see your smile again.”

“I was settling for Ariana!” he grabs your cheeks so you can’t look away. “I thought I could get her to warm up to you, I’ve never wanted you out of my life (Y/N)! You were with Eric at the time, it hurt like hell to see you that happy with someone that wasn’t me! So I proposed to Ariana because Eric bragged that he had a ring for you! But then you guys broke up and I couldn’t just break up with her right after I proposed.”

“Eric did propose, I said no and broke it off,” you smile sadly. “He, like Ariana, didn’t want us to spend time together, so I dumped him. All of the guys eventually realize they’re second to you, so they either break up with me or ask me not to see you anymore. And I was selfish every single time, I hurt them so I could be happy with you in my life.” 

“Fine, you want the truth?” Pete asks, and you nod. “It wasn’t the Knicks game. I knew I wanted to date you that night. But the first time I knew I loved you was when you came with my mom to pick me up from rehab the first time after we were. You didn’t run far away from me, you still wanted to be around me and you put up with my shit. Everyone leaves when I go to rehab, they think I’m too much to handle.”

“Well I don’t! I never have Pete!” you’re crying by now. 

“I know! Fuck, you’re too damn perfect for me (Y/N). I convinced myself for so long you were too good for me, that you couldn’t love me,” you don’t know how to verbally respond, so you do the first thing that comes to your mind. 

You grab the back of Pete’s neck and pull him into a kiss, it’s all teeth and tongue. The passion sends jolts of electricity through your body, a wave of giddiness rolls over you as you realize that this is really happening. You’re really kissing Pete, he really loves you too. As the kiss continues it becomes slower and more gentle, both of you want this feeling to last as long as it can. When you finally pull back, lungs burning and desperately in need of air, the feeling of his lips linger on yours. 

“I do love you, (Y/N/N). There’s never really been anyone else,” he caresses your cheek and gently brushes his lips on your forehead. 

“I love you too Pete,” you lean in for a peck, which he quickly deepens. You pull away giggling, “so much.”

Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[theloneliestblackgirlblog]

I believe I would have done the same too. Narratively it amazes me how much we just don’t hear from January’s mom. I mean from her perspective or her emotions. I get that she didn’t want to talk about it because it was too painful. We hear from January which makes sense but then we get to hear about the affair from the two people that had it and it’s like they didn’t give two shits about the effect it had on January’s mom. I like Emily Henry’s books and characters and I think a lot of the times it shows aspects of life we tend to like to hide because it’s uncomfortable. It doesn’t mean I agree with it. And I sure do not agree with this. Cheating on someone isn’t something to be taken lightly, and it’s certainly not something that brings people closer together a lot of the times. Far from it. It tears shit apart. This man had the audacity to have another life, family, home away from his wife and daughter because instead of doing the emotionally mature thing and communicating or properly ending things he ran into the arms of a woman equally as emotionally immature and began an illicit affair that last for years on end. Someone with such an audacity she showed up to an emotionally vulnerable time in January’s life and inserted herself into a narrative that she was not apart of. Sonya is not a healed character. She’s not a victim either. If I were in January’s situation I would not let it slide for the simple reason that she could’ve chosen any method to lay this out to me and she chose my father’s funeral. Then had the nerve to make it seem like she was a victim. That’s what I find the most cruel about her character. Not even the affair would have pushed me to edge as much as her coming to the funeral and then claiming that I shouldn’t exist.

On behalf of Beach Read becoming a movie I have to say…Sonya was absolutely out of her fucking mind for telling the grieving daughter of the man you were f*cking whilst his wife had cancer that if “everything went as it were supposed to” she “wouldn’t be here”.

I know it’s complicated, I actually really appreciate that aspect about the story. I get that the point was to highlight January was so focused on what SHOULD be and how life isn’t like that. But damn she really is a character.

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Four

(Gif's not my own.) 

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

-It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

-This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

-English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

-Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

-Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

-Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Four starts after the cut. (Chapter Three can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Four

Chapter warnings: PTSD, angst (or as much angst as I’ll ever write), couple’s fight, outdated expectations of marriage (is that even a warning?), mentions of masturbation.

This chapter is a little different from the previous ones and it’s stitched together weirdly. Also, there’s no smut (which is unusual for me!), but Chapter 5 will be more humorous and lighthearted.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“When’s your next leave?” Harper asked from behind the wheel, knowing better than to take his eyes off the sand road. He had been transferred to the Special Forces after the whole water pumping station incident, with Sy’s approval.

They were at the very back of the convoy, like always. It was the only way Sy was able to keep all the Humvees in sight and look out for everyone.

“Not sure I’m gonna be seeing home before July.” Sy replied, blue eyes scrunched up as he tried making something, anything out in the darkness surrounding them. Doing this scouting mission at night hadn’t been his idea, but the order had come from higher up and it was when the guards were at their lowest.

Harper smiled, a short huff escaping his chest. “Ah yes! What are you going do once you’re home for good?” The soldier asked, the tiniest hint of teasing in his voice. “Give your wife a small army of Texan babies?”

Sy scoffed, his chest shaking beneath the heavy protective vest. “Eyes on the road, soldier.”

“Yes, captain.” Harper chuckled even as he obeyed the command.

The rest of the drive went by in silence. The whole point of doing it at night was to be unseen and unheard. Confirm it was an armory so that an airstrike could later destroy it. Quick and easy.

Sy absentmindedly rubbed his finger through the thick glove, trying to feel the wedding band beneath. He never took the thing off, but it still somehow eased his mind to make sure it was there – make sure she was there across the ocean. They had talked on the phone the night before and he could still hear her shriek as she stubbed her toe on the doorframe whilst pacing around the house as she spoke to him. She wanted to order new tires for his pickup truck because she was afraid the current ones would be expired once he got back. He told her not to worry about any of that, but she insisted and then asked about Aika, changing subjects. No matter what they talked about, he always slept better after hearing her voice.

The landscape changed ever so slightly. They were there, right outside the deserted town’s walls. Sy gave everyone the order to pull up and get ready. It was only when he stepped out of the Humvee, his feet landing swiftly on the soft sand and the cold night’s air hitting his face, that he realized that Sy had been there already. He was dreaming again.

He had been there hundreds of times, taken the same steps, given the same orders and run away from the same explosion. After having the same nightmare night after night, the shock and the surprise element had lessened, but the dread remained unchanged. Sy was cursed to relive the same scene again and again, for moments even wondering if he lacked imagination so much that his mind was unable to come up with anything else.

Still, every night, he'd try changing the outcome, attempt to take control of his past self and make different decisions: refuse the mission, take a different team, catch Lieutenant Wilkins before he had a chance to run into the trap. It never worked. The result was always the same with him shouting for everyone to retreat and grabbing on to the back of Wilkins' uniform, trying to drag him out of the building, unsuccessfully. Then the telltale detonation followed, the building shook and they were thrown backwards with the explosion. When Sy landed on the concrete, there was a corpse - or what remained of it - on top of him. It was what had shielded him from the worst.

He once tried to warn Wilkins about the child's voice asking for help, to tell him it was a trap and that they needed to ignore it, but he was unable to speak. They were there, on the exact spot, a large room right down the stairs with no windows or lights, only three parted doors. Unlike the first time, the real time, he knew what was about to happen, through what door the grenade would be thrown out of before rolling on the dusty ground. And he went through it all over again.

It was the noise that alerted him the first time, the impact as it hit ground and then the rolling sound on the uneven surface.

"Retreat!" Sy heard his own voice shout loud enough for the rest of the team behind them to hear, then an echo of hurried, heavy footsteps followed.

He knew what happened then. Sy waited for the faint, unidentifiable cry for help and for Wilkins to blindly bolt towards the voice, the grenade.  He knew he'd unable to stop him this time just like all the others. What was the point of making him relive the same failure over and over again?

"Help!"

Sy froze on the spot, unlike all the other previous nights. This time it was not a random infantile voice. It was Ada's. She was crying out for help, for him.

This time it was him who dashed after the voice, the grenade exploding before he could reach her.

°°°

Ada thought that they had dodged the bullet, that they had somehow managed to avoid all the stuff she had crammed her head with when she had found out Sy was retiring from active combat sooner than expected. The notes she had taken, the websites she had visited, the therapists she had researched and ranked according to online reviews; she had started to think none of these would come in handy. Apart from that small incident when grocery shopping and the whole thing with Tom, Sy was okay, they were okay. Or so she thought.

It only took maybe eight days of Sy being back home to find out that wasn't true. It was almost like when you took a plane and fly halfway across the globe. The first days you’d eat dinner at 3am and go to bed three hours later and nothing felt real. Then it settled in. But this wasn't a spontaneous holiday or a mid-life crisis, this was an honorable discharge. Sy wasn't leaving behind an unsatisfying career, he was leaving the war.

He came home. They reunited, caught up with each other, basked in other's presence. Ada had to keep reminding herself that she could fall asleep at night without the anxiety of feeling like she was wasting away his leave with something as frivolous as sleep.

Only sleep wasn't frivolous, Ada soon came to realize. Sy slept well the first few nights back home. The exhaustion helped, so did sex. Sy would kiss her, roll over, pull her into his arms and fall right asleep after it.

That changed quickly. On the eight night, she woke up to pee hours before dawn only to find his side of the bed empty. She found him downstairs playing on his new console. It was the jetlag that made him unable to sleep, he said. Ada knew better, even as she acquiesced.

The following night, after making love and taking care of her, Sy didn't even bother pretending he was going to bed. "I won't be able to sleep anyways and I don't want to keep you up," he claimed, putting on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before going out for a run. It was past midnight.

After going two days with barely shutting his eyes, Sy did finally fall asleep in bed with her. Ninety minutes later, he was awake again.

"You okay?" Ada groaned softly, forcing her eyes open but it was too dark to see anything. She had woken up with his tossing and turning.

"Yeah, just go back to sleep," Sy replied dismissively, turning on his side and facing the window away from her.

Ada was about to do just that, believing his words in her incoherent sleepiness, when her hand touched his clammy back. He had managed to sweat through his t-shirt, but his skin remained icy.

"You're not okay," she whispered to herself before switching on her small bedside lamp and sitting up.

"I told you to go back to sleep, Ada," Sy protested, still facing away from her.

She shook her head softly and tried to pull him into her arms, but he was too heavy, and she couldn't move him without his help. "If something's wrong, you can tell me, you know."

She waited in silence for him to answer, to say something, anything at all. She had planned on watching podcasts, meeting with veterans and whatever she could do to help, but Sy had come home several months earlier than planned and she didn't know what to do, what was expected of her as a wife, as his partner, as his support person.

"Alright, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," she attempted quietly, sliding back into bed and moving in behind him, doing her best to be the big spoon for once. "We can just cuddle until you fall asleep."

Apparently, that turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Sy jumped out of bed as if her touch had burnt him. "I'm not a fucking child, Ada. I don't need your cuddles."

She flinched at his tone, taking a deep breath but her voice still came out strangled. "I was not implying you were a child, Sy. I just thought - no - I just hoped that you would find some comfort with me," she admitted but he was already getting dressed, sweaty skin and all. "Clearly I was wrong."

His face was red behind his full beard. He was pissed, she could almost feel him buzzing as he tried to restrain his anger and not - she didn't know what he was keeping himself from doing. Whatever it was, Ada was sure his next words hurt just as much as whatever he was initially going to do.

"I don't need you to fucking comfort me, woman!" He spat out, putting on a pair of boots. "I don't need anyone's help and certainly not my wife's!"

With that, he marched to the bedroom door, forcefully throwing it open. "I'm going out for air. Don't wait up for me."

They barely saw each other the next day. Sy texted that he was going to spend some time with his mom. Still hurt and offended, even though she knew this was not about her, Ada left for the day without telling him her whereabouts.

She took her car and drove to the animal shelter to help out. No one was expecting her there, but they gave her some work to do and it did help her feel better for a couple hours at least. But it was barely noon when she was done and she refused to go home, meeting up with friends instead. None of them asked why she wasn't at home practically glued to Sy. They were used to their friend pretty much vanishing off the face of the Earth whenever Sy came home for two or three weeks, but they were wise enough not to question it.

His words had stung. Ada was aware he had been mad, and that people always said dumb stuff when they were mad, but she did find some truth in his words. Why would he need her comfort? Her help? Or even a wife at all?

Sy had lived thirty-three years without knowing her and then three more married to her but living continents' apart. He could command soldiers, lead missions, plan attacks and whatever it was that he also did back in Iraq. The house was his, his mom would be overjoyed to cook for him and do his laundry again if he didn’t want to do it himself and Ada didn't kid herself - if he wanted sex, all he had to do was walk into a bar.

So, technically speaking, she knew Sy didn't need her. He was a grown ass man who could survive on his own better than ninety-nine percent of the population. What had hurt her was that he didn't want her, nor her help or her comfort. And if he didn't want her to try and make his life a lil' bit better, what was even the point.  Ada didn't know and all the cocktails she consumed didn't provide an answer either, but they did end up forcing her to eat almost her own weight in food to soak up all the alcohol before driving back home at ten.

She was still fishing out her keys to open the front door, when Sy pulled it open with so much force, it almost flew off its hinges.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Sy shouted as soon as she set a foot inside.

"I was out with friends.” Ada took off her shoes by the door. "How's your mom?" She looked up only long enough to find him staring down at her with his thick arms crossed in front of his chest.

"I sent you a dozen texts and called you just as many times, but you never picked up." Oh, his tone had switched to that unsettling calm before the storm.

"I apologize, my phone was on silent," Ada replied. It was true, though she had still noticed his calls and texts. "Look I am tired, and I am going to take a shower." She said before walking upstairs to their bedroom.

To her surprise, Sy followed her up, stopping only at their room’s threshold as if he weren’t allowed inside without her forgiveness. "I am sorry for yesterday," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s okay.” Ada shook her head, undressing rapidly and balling up her dirty clothes to throw them in the hamper. She smelt like a whole bar and she was desperate for a shower.

“I didn’t mean it, what I said,” he added, finally walking inside the room but still keeping his distances.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” She reassured him, disappearing inside the en-suite. This was just a fight. Couples had them all the time. Sy had even apologized. “I am sorry too. For today.”

His voice startled her, Sy was closer than she had expected. “Do you have need for me?” He asked, making her still as she bent down to fetch some fresh towels from the drawer. Did she have need for him? Ada frowned even though he couldn’t see her face. She heard him sigh again behind her.

"I felt useful back in Baqubah. I ran that city, commanded soldiers, gave my country something and then an explosion happens, two of my men die. And you know what they do? They send me home. Not to punish me for fucking up; they send me home because they thought I had witnessed enough shit and deserved an honorable discharge. Whatever the reason, my services weren't needed there anymore."

"Then I come home to my wife, to you, Ada. And you know what?” He asked before providing the answer himself. “The doors don't screech, the mirror has been replaced and my wife doesn’t even need me to take her out on dates or to the movies because she already has someone for that. So really, what's my goddamn purpose here? The house doesn't need me. You don't need me. Even my mother doesn't need me what with her new boyfriend. So why the fuck did I come back?"

He paused and Ada took it as a chance to stand up and face him. She didn’t know what this was. His voice wasn’t loud, he wasn’t shouting, and his posture didn’t appear hostile. They weren’t arguing, this was something different. “That’s not-” Sy cut her off.

"Then, last night, I realize that while you don't need me, I sure as hell need you, Ada. And that's not how I imagined my marriage would be. I should be the provider. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around."

"This is not the 1950s, Sy," Ada chuckled faintly despite herself.

"That don’t matter. It's how I was raised: preside, provide and protect. I don't care about the presiding part; I knew from day one that I'd never be able to boss you around and I didn't want to. But I still very much believe in providing for and protecting what's mine, and instead, you're the one doing that. So, not only did I fail my men back in Iraq, but now I’ve failed you too."

“No. Stop right there.” Ada interrupted him, more forcefully than intended. "Okay, first, you never failed me. Don’t you ever say that.” Sy huffed from his spot by the door, clearly unconvinced but she was determined to get this out. “Second, I... I think you need to stop settling for being needed and instead accept that you are loved, at least by me."

Sy stiffened against the doorframe, his face taking over an unreadable expression beneath his beard. Shit. Did she mess up again? "Did I say something wrong?"

He didn’t reply right away. Ada took a few steps to him when his words took her by surprise. "You said you loved me."

She stopped in her tracks, opening her mouth and closing it again a few times, stammering. Confusion was evident on her face. "Well, yeah."

"You've never said it before," Sy explained, the hint of a smile on his lips.

Ada frowned, a little unsteady on her feet as she thought back. "Are you certain? I'm pretty sure that is what I ended all our phone calls with."

He shook his head. "I meant in person.”

"Oh, I never realized.”

The cold bathroom tile floor was not the place either of them would have picked out under different circumstances, but it was where Sy finally allowed himself to be cuddled into the warmth of her embrace for the first time, his head resting against her naked breast with her slow heartbeat lulling him into a different kind of peace. “I do love you, Sy.”

Ada was no fool, this wouldn’t soothe all his troubles, but for now, it was a start. And that was all she could ask for.

°°°

Sy sat down on the chair in their study. Most walls were covered with Ada’s textbooks from floor to ceiling. He huffed at the sight. If you’d told him five years ago that he’d end up with an academic wife, he’d have laughed in your face. Now, he tested touched the shelves, watching them wobble slightly and decided he ought to build her something sturdier.

First, he had to take care of some administrative bullshit for the new job he'd be starting at Camp Marbry in January. He had always hated bureaucracy but there was no escaping it. He had learned it the hard way as a private. Maybe it was also time he started going through their utilities folders. Ada had taken over all of it when they got married, managing their bank accounts and paying the bills. Sy hadn't taken of that shit in years but he probably should relieve her of some of those chores.

His eyes wandered over to the neatly organized shelves under the office desk, trying to find the correct binder when his attention landed on what appeared to be a fancy silver notebook. Was that the one Tom had mentioned?

Sy knew he shouldn't go through her stuff, but he was curious and it was not like she had hidden it or anything. Ending his hesitation with a shrug, he picked up the notebook only for stray bits of paper to immediately fly out and land on the carpeted floor. "Shit!"

He bent down and gathered them all up quickly in his hand, lest Ada find out he was snooping and chide him like a soldier. He sat back on the chair and started reading through some of the bits and slips of paper he had caught: "shaving gel not cream!", "dog treats (the fancy ones)", "boxer briefs in L"... They were all dated too. Sy figured they were just old shopping lists until he opened the notebook.

The first part appeared to be a logbook of sorts with notes about each and every one of their calls for the past year. Sy went over some of them, grinning despite himself. He never imagined Ada took notes during their weekly phone calls.

"Sy says it's really cold at night in the desert."

"He seems a little down..."

"Aika has a sweet tooth." Damn, he missed that dog!

“Explosion. Two men dead.”

He skipped over the next few pages, remembering it all too well. After the logbook part, came a set of lists, all dated. "The monthly care packages," Sy realized, reading through them and concluding that this was where the bits of paper had fallen from.

All the care package lists were cross-referenced with the calls logbook. Sy had never understood how she always managed to send him exactly what he needed. He wasn't even aware that he had mentioned most of these small things to her. Most of the time, he didn't even understand how she managed to fit so much stuff into those small USPS boxes. Whenever he tried putting everything back in the cardboard box for safekeeping, half of it didn't fit back inside.

He flipped through a few more care packages before landing on a particularly long list. The date was highlighted, it was the package he had received on the month of his birthday. Ada had made him promise not to open it before the 18th. “You can open the box, but I will know if you open the present before your birthday, Sy,” she had warned him on the phone, trying to sound very stern.  “And if you do, I’ll come to Iraq just to whoop your ass.” He had laughed so loudly, Harper had knocked on his door to make sure he was alright.

Sy laughed again as he went over the list, remembering how the private from the deliveries and postal department kept on complaining because packages this big were 'not usually authorized' and that he was getting 'favor treatment' because he was captain and that Ada shouldn't even have been allowed to ship a box exceeding the maximum dimensions. Sy had taken the package from the soldier and asked if he fancied a trip to the infirmary. That had shut him up quickly.

There had been candy (no chocolate because it had melted through its packaging once when she had tried sending him some), gum, the two first James Bond novels, dog treats, a new photo of his niece and nephew, underwear that was way too fancy for him and a handwritten letter from Ada.

What had immediately caught his attention was the very neatly wrapped gift box with a big red bow and a small card that reminded him once more not to open it until his birthday and only when he was alone.

Sy laughed, remembering how giddy he was to open that damn box. They'd gone on a recon mission on his birthday and when they got back, everyone was exhausted and dirty. He had hurried to the showers, cutting off some soldiers and then rushed to his private room to open the gift.

In all his adult life, Sy could only remember blushing three times, two of them the same day. First was when Ada said 'I do’ and he tried sliding the ring on her finger, but nervous and tipsy like he had been, the damn tiny thing slipped off his hand and fell on the carpet. Second was when the limo supposed to bring them back to their hotel was caught up in traffic, and the two of them decided to get it on in the chapel's storage room while another couple was getting married. Not only did they promptly – and accidentally, might he add – knock over all the props, he literally ended up fucking her through the cheap and unstable dry wall. The look on the couple’s face had been priceless!

The third time was on his birthday. Inside the box, he had found a handful of professionally made photos of Ada in lingerie and sometimes not even that much. If that didn't have his mind spinning and his dick throbbing after so many months away, he certainly couldn't believe his eyes when he found a small tube of lube and a transparent fleshlight.

It was not the gift as such that made him blush. The photos had him beyond excited and he was all too eager to try out the fleshlight. No, the embarrassment only settled in afterwards. More specifically when Sy remembered that despite having a private room as a captain, the washrooms where shared and he found himself cleaning the fleshlight in the sink with the little water they had, hoping no one would see him.

"Oh shit!"

Sy jumped in his chair at her voice, he hadn't heard her get home, let alone upstairs.

"Fuck. You weren’t meant to see that, Sy.” Ada babbled, quickly walking up to him with a sheepish look on her face.

Sy smiled, interrupting her as he seized her hips and pulled her down to sit on his lap. "It’s okay, darlin'."

Ada's eyes widened incredulously. "Really? You’re not even mad at me for meeting with a therapist to get advice?"

Sy closed his eyes, nostrils flaring for a moment. Right. Admittedly, he had not yet made it to that part but while he wasn't exactly keen on discussing his private life with strangers, he felt no anger at finding out that Ada had tried to look after him. Her words from last night had somehow made it through his thick skull.

"No, I'm not angry, not even for that. I know you were just trying to-"

Sy opened his eyes again at her silence only to find his wife grinning like the Cheshire cat as she looked at the open page on the notebook.

"You didn't even make it that far, huh?" She chuckled, pointing at the list. "Nope, you were still stuck with that ridiculous birthday gift I gave you!" While her tone was accusatory, Sy could see that she was trying not to burst out laughing.

Rolling his eyes, he pried the notebook from her hands and set it down on the desk. "It was not a ridiculous gift. I kept it all," Sy reassured her, pressing her body closer to his. "Well, not the lube. That was gone in weeks. And the photos are definitely a little used now but-"

Ada kissed him out of the blue, shutting him up. "Sy, I really love you but you're giving me secondhand embarrassment right now."

The bear of a man laughed, holding ever impossibly tighter before kissing her forehead. "I love you too, wife." Then, another thought crossed his mind. “Do you think it’s possible to send a care package to a dog?”

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

In the Still of the Night

Here is my contribution for the Captain Swan Neverland New Year event! You guys, I am so excited to be writing again!!!! Thank you @xhookswenchx for beta reading this baby for me.  Kudos to the mods of @neverlandnewyear for thinking up and putting together this treasure that is Captain Swan in Neverland. Tag list at the end, please let me know if you ever want to be removed or added. 

Summary: Set after Henry is safe (no Pan switch) but before the gang is able to leave Neverland. When Emma is woken in the still of the night, from dreams of a devilishly handsome pirate captain, she decides she needs a midnight swim to cool off. In which Hook and a daringly open Emma have a meeting of the mind, body, and soul. 

     Rated M          8K          ao3           ffnet          Story under the cut, promise

It was the middle of the night when Emma woke, a sweltering, sweaty mess. “Why is this island so fucking hot,” she muttered into the darkness. Having a lascivious dream about Hook had absolutely naught to do with her elevated temperature, it was undoubtedly this goddamn jungle. Now that Pan had been conquered, and Henry was safe, Emma found she was having an increasingly difficult time keeping the smoldering, blue-eyed pirate off of her mind. She needed to get back to Storybrooke, back to some semblance of normalcy... or whatever. She silently cursed Gold for not having found a way to get her father home safely yet. 

Ripping the covers from her body, she got up from her bunk below Henry’s and checked on him. Seeing that he was sound asleep, she headed topside. The deck of the Jolly Roger was blessedly deserted. Emma leaned against the railing, looking toward the vast jungle that was Neverland and she shuddered despite the hot, humid air that surrounded her. The shudder wasn’t due to the jungle itself. Since they’d defeated Pan, Hook had shown the group many of the island’s hidden beauties. He had stories for every spot he showed them, some hilarious, some melancholy, some quite ordinary, and others downright terrifying. There were quaint trails, refreshing springs and ponds, fascinating wildlife and vibrant plant life. It was actually quite a dream destination when a maniacal man-boy wasn’t playing psycho. 

No, it wasn’t the jungle causing that shudder. She couldn’t get that goddamn kiss off her mind. Emma bit her lip as she reminisced about the way his lips had caressed hers, the way his tongue had slipped into her mouth hungrily but also tenderly. A one-time thing, she’d told Hook. Now if she could just maintain that lie, because that’s what it had been. She really needed Gold to find a way to magic David’s health back so they could get off this god forsaken island already. 

She decided that the time for sleep was past, she was wide awake now, with thoughts of that damn pirate. A midnight dip would be ideal, especially while everyone was asleep. Emma left the Jolly Roger and headed toward the secluded pond that Hook had shown them. Once they’d no longer had to worry about being attacked, they’d created a regular schedule for bathing, so everyone had their own time. Luckily, no one’s time was right now.

Traversing quietly through the jungle, Emma admired the beauty around her. The greenery was lush, the effulgent dew made it seem more alive than any plants she’d ever been around. The blossoms surrounding the path were some of the largest she’d ever seen - they were dazzling pinks and oranges. She wondered if she had missed all this in her haste, fatigue, and desperation while finding Henry, or if the jungle had only come to life since the man-child was no more. 

She followed the trail Hook had shown them, until she came upon the pond that was shrouded below an overhang at the base of what Hook had referred to as Dead Man’s Peak. The name hadn’t initially inspired comfort in the group, but when David explained to them that the water at the top of the peak was what had cured him, their perspectives changed. Emma swore there must be some restorative properties here at the base because she always felt rejuvenated when emerging from the water.

Stripping as soon as she broke the tree line, she discarded her clothes beneath a tree along the sandy shoreline. Her flesh pebbled as it met the open air, and she felt a freeness as she walked to the water’s edge. She dipped her toes in tentatively, knowing the water would be agreeable as always. Emma was immersed thigh deep before diving down below the surface and swimming toward the middle. 

The water sluiced around her body soothingly while she held her breath as long as she could, before breaking the surface. Emma pushed her hair back then ran her hands over her face before opening her eyes. She enjoyed this spot, a sandbar of sorts, deep enough to cover her body, shallow enough that she could still reach, and far enough from all surrounding shore should anyone happen upon her.

The silence that enveloped her was serene and she looked up at the star filled sky. A shooting star floated across the heavens, but just as Emma was about to make a wish, the water beside her opened up as something emerged. The scream that started to bubble up from deep within her, as a hundred thoughts filled her mind on what unimaginable Never-beast this could be, was cut off by a voice she was not expecting to hear.

“Evening Swan!”

“Jesus Christ, Hook!” Emma gasped. Thank god she was in shoulder deep water. “Wait, did you… were you watching when I… you know,” she asked while motioning toward her body.

“Did I what?” Hook asked, genuine confusion furrowing his brow.

“Did you see me undressing?”

“You wound me, Swan… I would never!”

“Oh, tonight you’re the gentleman?”

“I told you, I am always a gentleman,” he claimed in a rich tone as he took a step closer to her. “Spying on a lady as she undresses would be unthinkably bad form.”

“Then where the hell were you?” 

“I was underwater.”

“For the whole time?” she asked disbelievingly. 

“Aye. I’m a pirate, love, when you live a life on the water, it’s best you be able to hold your breath for longer than the average landlubber. Never know when you might find yourself keelhauled.”

“Landlubber,” Emma scoffed, “I can hold my breath just fine.” 

“I’ve no doubt you can, just not as long as meself,” he smirked.

Emma narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his tone. What was it about this man that had her wanting to comply with his every whim? She’d held her breath for as long as she could when she dove into the water, if he’d been under from the time she’d stripped until he popped up to interrupt her wish, that had to be like two full minutes? No way, she thought, he must have come up for air while she was under.

“Bet I can,” she challenged back.

“Is that so?” Hook asked, crowding her a little more, eyebrow cocked in interest. “And just what are the terms of this bet?”

If ever asked under oath, Emma would swear his eyebrows spoke a language all their own. “If I win, I get the Captain’s quarters,” Emma replied, crossing her arms over her chest smugly - as if she’d already won.

“I told you before, Swan, you and the lad should have my quarters.”

“I don’t want it given to me, I want to take it from you.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “such a stubborn lass. And if I win?”

“You tell me,” Emma said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed, as the tip of his tongue swept along his bottom lip. “How about…” he continued, tapping his pointer finger to his lips.

Emma leaned toward him with anticipation as he pondered the terms to set. 

“I get to ask you any question I want.”

“Seriously?” Emma sputtered, head tilting to the side, it was rhetorical at best, not an actual question. “You’re taking this gentleman schtick a little over the top. I thought you’d want me to flash my tits or another kiss?”

“I told you, love, I am always a gentleman, and as such, I would never want to take a kiss from you in victory, I want it given to me, willingly. I want you to want it as much as I do.”

Emma blushed as he spoke, damn him for being a chivalrous pirate. “Whatever,” Emma muttered, “I’m winning this bet anyway.”

“So, we have an accord?” he questioned, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Deal,” Emma said, shaking his hand. “How will we know no one cheated?”

“I do have a code, Swan,” Hook scoffed, “pillaging and plundering, yes; swashbuckling, yes; swindling beautiful maidens, never.” He held his hand over his heart as if he were making a pledge. 

Emma smiled at the actual drama queen standing before her, laughing lightly, it felt good. “Okay, so how are we doing this thing?” Hook held up his hand like he was about to take an actual oath, and Emma was half inclined to high-five him, though she was sure that was not his intent. 

“Take my hand then,” he prompted, nodding his head toward his hand. Once her fingers were laced with his, he explained that he would count to three and they’d both submerge to the bottom, first one up was the loser, and the winner would know, because the loser would release the winner’s hand to reach the surface for air. 

On three they submerged, and Emma could not see a thing. Hook was inches from her, and the only indication was his hand in hers. Feeling the comfort of his grasp in the eerily dark abyss, she pondered over the fact that she’d interlocked their fingers, instead of just holding hands palm in palm. She really needed off this island, she couldn’t be falling for him. Life was too hard for a relationship. Or was it really too hard, the rarely heard from, softer side of Emma Swan’s mind butted in. It could be so easy, this voice told her. 

When Hook had told her that he would win her heart without any trickery, Emma’s heart had beat a little stronger just for him, she’d wanted to pull him into her arms to make out right there. Alas, there had still been the issue of her beloved child to save.

Would it really be so bad to let Hook try to win her heart though? He truly was a gentleman, a pirate scoundrel sometimes too, but it was part of his charm. Plus, her lie detector said that everything he’d told her regarding how he felt about her, about what the kiss exposed, it was all true.

Emma’s mind wandered back to Storybrooke, to what it might be like to have someone who understood her, someone who was like her, to spend time with. The squeeze he gave her hand at that moment had her picturing what it might be like to walk through town with him, hand in hand. Was that even something she could still do, be that vulnerable, for the world to see her care for a man? She’d been on her own for so long, independent; free from any man who could hold her heart with the possibility of crushing it. 

Suddenly she felt dizzy, head spinning and heart pounding loudly in her ears. Had she held her breath too long, or were her outlandish imaginings too much for her stoic heart? Releasing Hook’s hand, Emma rose to the surface and gulped in the air. Pushing water and hair from her face, she panted deeply. She wondered how long they’d been down there already as Hook continued his underwater mission. Leave it to him to not only win, but really show her up. 

A full minute later, Emma began to worry. Unless she’d been down there an inordinately short amount of time, he’d been under for at least two and a half minutes. Was that even possible? Had he passed out in his endeavor to “best her”? She started to actually worry for his health when another thirty seconds passed. 

“Goddammit Hook, where are you?” she muttered.

“Miss me, love?” 

“Oh, goddammit!” she yelled as she flailed so hard, she was pretty sure she’d just flashed her breasts unwittingly. The bastard wasn’t even out of breath when he popped up right in front of her. “Stop doing that,” she laughed as she pushed his chest. “Why’d you stay down so long, you big showoff?” 

“On the contrary, I could feel you thinking down there, the amount of body language just in your hand told me you were contemplating some things. I merely wished to give you enough time to escape, should this game have become too much for you.”

“Escape?” she scoffed.

“Now, now, Swan - we both know of your affinity to run,” he said lightly, no accusations or contempt in his voice.

“Says the pirate who sailed away when asked to be a part of something,” Emma retorted. 

“I came back, didn’t I?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You, on the other hand, left me to be eaten by a giant atop that beanstalk.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed. “I made a deal with Anton to release you after ten hours, I just needed a head start, in case you…” Emma’s voice lowered to a whisper, not wanting to voice her early assumptions about his motives and intentions.

“In case I betrayed you,” Hook finished. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, looking straight into his eyes, imploring him to believe the sincerity of her words. Although she’d had her reasons at the time, it didn’t make her feel less terrible now. 

“Long forgiven, milady,” he whispered in turn. Then, in the next breath, he was back to the cocky pirate she knew. “Now, I do believe I won, and per our accord, you owe me the fee of one truth.”

“Congratulations,” Emma offered, extending her hand to shake, “you won, fair and square.” No trickery, she thought. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, which was still underwater, so it didn’t make her look menacing at all as she jutted out her chin and raised both eyebrows in a silent challenge to do his worst. 

“Why thank you, Swan. Hmmm, what shall I ask you?” he spoke, as if pondering his many choices. “There are truly so many things I wish to learn about you, I want to know everything, really.”

Emma’s eyebrows lowered as a shy smile crept over her face. It was stupid, she knew, but having this man before her, admit that he wants to know everything about her made her feel… cherished, adored, wanted. It was a foreign feeling after so many years of being alone. “Well, you only get one free question,” she said, trying to deflect the saccharine sweet feelings he was stirring within her.

"Pity, that, but I do remember the terms of our agreement. I do have one question picked out that I simply must know the answer to, before I endeavor to learn more. Fair warning, I may not have an Emma Swan internal lie detector,” he said as he leaned in closer to her, “but as I told you before, you are a bit of an open book, so I’ll know if you’re twisting the truth.” 

“I would never,” Emma objected dramatically, holding a hand over her heart as he had so often done when feigning injury to his pride.

“Good,” he replied, taking a step even closer. “Then tell me, love, when you said our kiss was a one time thing, did you mean it? And if you did mean it when you said it, do you feel the same now?”

 His close proximity was making her feel a little less confident than the facade she was putting on, but Emma didn’t break the heady eye contact he’d made, a beautiful shade of blue, looking into her, reading her. And how was the kohl that rimmed his eyes unaffected by the water? She might have to pillage some of that from him, it put her realm’s cosmetics to shame. God he was gorgeous as the moonlight shined down on them, she’d never noticed the hint of red to the scruff along his sharp jawline. “That’s two questions,” she murmured breathily as she thought of nibbling along that jawline. 

“Shall I rephrase?”

“Oh, the hell with it, I never meant it,” she confessed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare chest against his and kissing him soundly. 

As their lips collided hungrily, over and over, Emma was pretty sure she heard Hook mumbling thanks to the gods. She felt a little of that same relief, as she finally admitted that denying herself this thing that she wanted was ridiculous now that everyone was safe. Running her fingers through his thick hair, she gave it a little tug, angling his head so she could deepen the kiss. The groan he elicited was sinful and it kind of made Emma want to rub herself all over him. 

Instead she ran her other hand over his chest, deciding to take her time, she’d wanted to feel that chest hair since the first time she’d seen it proudly on display. It wasn’t quite what she expected since they were both wet and it was matted to his chest. She smirked when he jumped, his hand tightening involuntarily in her hair as she ran a thumb over his nipple. 

“A little sensitive, Captain?” she teased, looking up at him through her long lashes.

“Aye,” Hook chuckled, “‘s been awhile.”

It’d been a long dry spell for her as well. And it’d been even longer since feeling any true emotion when with a man. It had merely been scratching an itch for so long that she was a little scared what this all meant. The tingling, unadulterated want she felt in every nerve of her body far outweighed the fear though. “Touch me,” she whispered as she wrapped both arms around his waist.

 “Bloody Hell, you’ll be the death of me, woman,” he muttered as he kissed her once more. He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her in close. Trailing a path from her mouth to her ear, he bit gently on her lobe, and it was his turn to smirk as a shiver ran through Emma’s entire body.  “Would you be opposed to taking this back on land?” 

“We just got clean, I don’t want sand in every crack and crevice,” she giggled while wrinkling her nose. 

“Aye, that would be less than optimal,” Hook agreed, “though the place I have in mind won’t get your nether regions sandy.”

“What’s wrong with right here, right now?” Emma challenged. She was pulled up short when Hook’s cheeks went pink and he scratched behind his ear as he did so often when he was feeling slightly unsure of himself. Truth be told, Emma found it cute, although she’d never tell him that, she doubted the fearsome pirate captain wanted cute to be correlated to his reputation. 

“It’s just, I’d rather…”

Brushing the hair from his forehead, Emma smoothed her thumb over the worry line that creased his brow.  “What’s wrong?” she asked. When he made no attempt to answer, Emma decided to employ his own tactics against him. “Try something new, Hook. It’s called trust.”

Emma internally cheered as one of Hook’s mega watt smiles overtook his face. The smile that showed those adorable (another word she was sure he would not want associated with him) dimples, and crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

“Touché lass,” he conceded, “I’d rather be able to have use of all my appendages.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, gazing very obviously in the direction of his most manly appendage. “Ummm, it felt like it was working just fine to me.” 

“Christ, Swan,” he chuckled, “I assure you, everything is ready, willing, and able in that department. I’d like my hook.”

Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she thought, not for the first time, about what that hook would feel like against her heated skin. 

“It’s okay, love, if it repulses you, I can just wear the brace without the hook.” 

Emma shook her head, a frown downturning her brows and her lips, “Stop-”

“But I assure you,” Hook continued without letting Emma speak, “if the hook repulses you, the wound will surely-”

Emma’s hand over his mouth was more effective in shutting him up. “Stop it,” she demanded, “right now.” 

Hook was a little taken aback by being commanded by the fiery version of Emma, he’d seen her fiery side before, and he liked it, he liked every part of her. He wasn’t taken aback by her fire, rather he wasn’t used to being bossed around. He was the boss. But as he stood there, with her hand over his mouth, he realized he’d follow her orders any day. 

“Do you think I’m unaware that you don’t have a left hand?”

Hook shook his head in the negative, since her hand was still covering his mouth.

“Do you think I’m so shallow as to be repulsed by your hook or your brace or your wound?”

Hook took longer to answer this time, contemplating what he’d said and what she was asking. He supposed his words may have left room for misinterpretation. Slowly shaking his head no again, Emma removed her hand from his mouth.

“Good,” she stated simply, reaching for his left wrist before he even realized she'd made a move. 

His head spun when he felt Emma’s touch upon his scarred flesh and his knee-jerk reaction was to pull away from her grasp. He struggled to find the words through the haze. “It was not my intent to imply you are shallow, Emma. It is my own reticence.” 

“Trust me,” she whispered as she took his left wrist again. Wrapping both of her hands around his forearm and blunt wrist. Emma repeated the words comfortingly as she placed the arm he was so ashamed of between her breasts and held it there, where he could feel her heart beating. 

“Your hook, your brace, or just this,” she squeezed his wrist, “has no bearing on how I feel about you. I care about you, Hook.” Her voice sounded shaky, even in her own ears. “You came back for me, you helped save my son, you make me feel wanted, you make me feel good about being me.” Removing one hand from his damaged skin, Emma wrapped it around the back of his neck and pulled his forehead to hers before closing her eyes and continuing. “I’m not ready for this part, and I apologize, because that is my hang up.”

“Hang up?” he questions.

“A simpleton’s way of saying reticence,” she answers with a small smile before continuing. “I hate words, they make things real, and messy, and although I mean everything I’m saying, that’s all I can handle right now. Please just…” she inhaled sharply as she tried to articulate her plea to let this be enough. 

“I understand,” he whispered, voice just as shaky as Emma’s. He placed his hand on her cheek, lovingly caressing the softness of her lower lip. “And I do trust you, love.” He pecked her lips once before continuing. “I know you don’t like words, that much was clear from the start,” he said with a knowing smile and another peck to her lips, “but I’d like to respond, if you’re amenable?”

Emma nodded her head, eyes still closed, still reeling from her own confessions. 

Hook kissed her gently again before prodding her to open her eyes. “I want you to see the truth of my words.” 

Emma inhaled deeply, then opened her eyes to look at him. She bit her lip, a nervous habit from her teen years, as she waited for his words.

“I want to be the one to bite this lip,” Hook growled, as he used his thumb to massage her lip from her teeth.

“Truth,” Emma giggled despite herself, nodding to let him know her lie detector was working.

Hook waggled his eyebrows and smirked at her, before resuming his more resolute demeanor. “I have never felt more naturally drawn to a woman than I do with you. Your fire and passion brought my dormant heart back to life, and for the first time in decades upon decades, I want to be a better version of myself, a version that has been long forgotten, the old Killian Jones who was an honorable man, with good intentions, and hope in his heart, not revenge.”

“You may have lost your way for a time, but you’re still an honorable man, Killian.”

“Gods above,” Hook murmured as he wrapped both arms around Emma and pulled her into nothing more than a loving embrace. He was in love with her, but now was not the time. Emma would undoubtedly run if any grand declarations were made. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable maybe ever and he longed to hear her call him by his given name again. 

“Emma? Hook?! What the hell?”

Emma froze in Hook’s embrace as the familiar, and annoying, and currently very judgmental voice sounded from the shore.

“Bollocks,” Hook cursed. “How shall we handle this, darling?”

“Can we just pretend he’s not there,” she deadpanned, face still buried in her neck, trying to keep reality at bay.

“Somehow I doubt that will work, but you are The Savior, you could give it a go.”

Emma sighed deeply before turning around in Hook’s arms, her back to his chest, so she could face their interloper. She placed her hands over his hand and wrist where they were wrapped around her waist. It was still dark as she faced Neal, so hopefully he wouldn’t see the eyeroll she’d just given him when she saw this silhouette of his hands on his hips like some outraged father. 

“Good morning, Neal,” she called to the shore cheerfully. “I must have lost track of time, I didn’t realize it was already your shift for bathing.”

“It’s not,” he muttered, “it’s still the middle- not the fucking point,” he interrupted himself. “It’s not your shift either, what the hell are you doing out here?”

As much as Emma wanted to tell Neal that she and Hook were doing exactly what he assumed they were doing, she abstained.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she snapped. 

“It is my business,” he snarled back, “we’re supposed to be here for Henry.”

“Don’t you dare!” Emma started, voice rising with rightfully earned indignation. “We came here to save Henry who is now safe and sound aboard the Jolly, but the reason we are here is because your deranged fiancée dragged him through a portal to sacrifice him to a madman.” 

“So you’re just going to throw away any chance of rekindling what we had, of being a family with Henry; so you can get laid by a dirty pirate.”

Emma pulled Hook’s arms around her tighter, keeping him anchored to her when she felt him start to pull away. She didn’t need these two getting into it again. 

“Oi! I bathe quite frequently, mate,” Hook quipped. “I was doing so when Swan and I happened upon each other.”

“Shut up, Hook,” Neal retorted.

“The one good thing that came from us, was Henry, but our relationship is long over. There is nothing to rekindle,” Emma sighed. She didn’t want to be mean, but she needed Neal to understand that she wanted nothing to do with him romantically. And she was not going to be lectured by the man who’d already blown up her life once. “Maybe one day, you and I can be friends for Henry’s sake, but that is the most we will ever be.”

“Ems, you don’t mean that. You’re under his thrall, it’s not real.”

Emma completely ignored the bait, choosing instead to stop this exchange in its tracks. “Hook and I are kind of busy,” she said with a lighthearted tone, while turning back around to face Hook. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she called over her shoulder, ”If there’s nothing else, we’ll see you later.”

“You mark my words Emma, when he abandons you after taking what he wants, you’re going to look back and regret this moment.”

“He’s stuck around through more shit than you ever did,” she called back, looking straight into Hook’s eyes.

Properly dismissed, Neal stormed off, muttering curses the whole way.

Emma dropped her head to Hook’s chest, exhaling with relief. “That felt good,” she said. 

“Well done, lass, though I’ve yet to see you fail, so I am not surprised Baelfire is no match for you. But perhaps we should make our way back as well,” Hook suggested. “I do believe he will be stirring the pot, come morning. You may want to be there to head off the storm.”

“I don’t care if he goes back to tell everyone, it’s not like it’s a lie, and at least this way, they will know we’re safe, and not missing. With any luck, we’ll be left alone for a bit,” she purred.

“Are you sure your parents will approve of you spending time with a dirty, one-handed pirate with a drinking problem?”

Emma’s head jerked up and she eyed him scrutinously. “First, you need to get Pan and Neal out of your head. Second, the only person who gets to decide who I spend my time with, or how I spend it, is me. And third, how do you know I don’t want you to be dirty,” she teased as she took command of his mouth with her own. 

Not giving him a chance to think further, Emma quickly kissed him again. She slid her tongue past his lips, rolling it against Hook’s, who was quick to reciprocate. She wrapped her lips around his tongue and sucked on it, eliciting one of the sexiest noises she’d ever heard. It was half growling and half begging for more. The buoyancy helped him to easily lift her and she instinctively surrounded his body with her legs.

Hook broke the kiss, in favor of exploration. His hot mouth trailed down Emma’s neck, licking here and nibbling there, never too rough, he didn’t wish to mark her, at least not where it would be visible. He palmed one of her breasts with his hand while running his thumb over her already pebbled peak. “Gods you are perfect,” he murmured before taking her other breast in his mouth and alternating between gently suckling and the graze of his teeth. 

Emma moaned softly in pleasure and torment as Hook worked her up, her clit throbbed and she longed to feel his hand or his mouth between her legs. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled his head back and gazed into his eyes, want and desire evident in her pupils which were blown wide and the way her tongue licked salaciously over her bottom lip before she bit down on it. 

She unwrapped her legs from around Hook’s torso, in favor of standing again. Sliding her hands down his back, she squeezed his ass cheeks before pressing her body against his. “I want you,” she whispered when she felt his hardness against her stomach. Emma reached between them to wrap her hand around his thick length.

“Swan,” Hook choked out, pulling her hand gently away from his overly eager cock. “I really don’t want this to be over before it starts.”

Emma smiled knowingly, the very thought of making him come early amping up her need. “Okay, you lead,” she agreed.

“Come with me.” Hook led her toward the far end of the pond, which was actually far larger than she’d realized. They rounded a large looming rock which cloaked the entrance to a small cave by the shore.

“You just know all the secret spots, don’t you?”

“I discovered many hiding spots over the years I spent on this cursed island,” Hook acknowledged. “I usually walk to this side of the water’s edge to deposit all my belongings before bathing. One can never be too safe with the keeping of his hook.” Extending his hand to Emma, he led her out of the water and into the shelter. 

They entered far enough to have a little privacy, but not so far as to be pitched in blackness. Hook pulled her over to a natural, rock-formed shelf. “Do you want a towel, milady? Perhaps my shirt?”

“I want you,” Emma growled, yanking on his hand and pulling him flush against her body and attacking his mouth again.

“Mmmm, as you wish,” he uttered between ardent kisses. 

Emma whined when he broke away from her again, “Hook!”

“Patience, darling,” he teased. Then he quickly grabbed his jacket and his towel, laying first the jacket down on the cave floor, followed by the towel. “So you don’t get sand in every crack and crevice,” he advised with a mock bow. 

Emma laughed at his naked bow before tackling him to the makeshift bed and straddling his hips. She wove the fingers of her left hand with his right, and wrapped her other hand around his wrist before pinning them above his head. 

She didn’t miss the way he jumped when she embraced his wrist, a fleeting look of helplessness crossing over his face. She kissed him softly, tenderly, wanting to calm his nerves about his perceived flaw. When she felt his body relax against hers, she started to trail kisses across the line of his jaw before veering back up to his ear. “Has anyone ever told you, you are beyond gorgeous?” she whispered before sucking his earlobe into her mouth.

“I tell myself this all the time, but it does sound much lovelier on your luscious lips.”

“These lips?” Emma asked, sitting up just slightly and running her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Aye, the very ones,” Hook struggled to get out of her hold, as he tried leaning up to taste her lips.

Emma kept a firm hold on him though, enjoying this little bit of control. She could feel his cock against her ass, hard for her, twitching each time she nibbled and sucked at his skin. She continued to trail kisses downward, along his neck, across his pecs. His hips thrusted upwards when she bit down on his nipple and flicked her tongue over the sensitive flesh. “Patience,” she mimicked his earlier command. 

Hook’s melodramatic exhale made her giggle as she scooted further down his body, gently rubbing her wet core along his cock. “Bloody hell!” Hook cursed while deftly flipping them over.

“Don’t you want to see what else these luscious lips can do?” she asked with a wicked grin. 

“Gods above, I do. But I swear you will unman me the moment you wrap your lips around me.”

Emma smirked at him, eyes alight with lust.

“You little minx, you like that idea don’t you?” 

“Maybe,” she admitted, a confession really, despite the ambiguity of the answer. She’d already resumed stroking him.

“Fuck,” Hook hissed at her touch. He was torn between his ego needing to pleasure her first and his baser instincts demanding he let her do her worst. 

Emma watched Hook, saw him struggle with the decision, his eyes squeezing shut when she ran her thumb over his tip. Without waiting for his answer, Emma rolled them back over and licked from his base to his tip before sucking the head of his cock into her mouth while continuing to pump him.

  Her clit ached as she reveled in the wrecked expression on his face, Hook was watching her every move, lip pinned between his teeth as he struggled to hold out. She knew he was close when his hand balled into a white knuckled fist on his stomach and she gently cupped his balls to massage them. The sound that left his mouth was positively feral as he came hard, warm and wet in her mouth.

She savored the moment, he hadn’t lasted long, and she’d been the one to do that to him. But that was all she had, a fleeting moment before she was being rolled to her back. 

Hook held her in his blunted arm and dove in for a kiss, not caring at all that his taste was still on her tongue. He smiled against her lips when he felt her spreading her legs beneath him. “Eager, are we?” he asked between kisses.

“Don’t tease,” she panted into his mouth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Hook slowly caressed his hand down her neck, stopping to play with her breasts for just a moment before continuing down to where he knew she was desperate to be touched. He parted her lips with two fingers and slid his middle finger into the warm wetness waiting for him. “Gods, Swan, you’re soaked.” His cock was already coming back to life as he thought about sliding into her wet heat.

Emma’s eyes rolled shut as Hook massaged her clit with her slippery wetness and any response she could’ve made was forgotten. Her mouth parted with an involuntary whimper when he switched it up, suddenly, but oh so easily slipping two fingers deep inside her. She contracted around his fingers, then pushed down, welcoming the penetration. 

Hook fucked her with his fingers, circling his thumb over her clit, while watching her cheeks flush pink and her breasts bounce as she rode his hand. Longing to taste her, he repositioned himself between her legs, chuckling at her whine of protest when he had to stop for a moment. 

“Oh fuck,” she panted when he resumed loving her clit, this time with his tongue. He alternated between licks and flicks and sucking. Emma’s head spun dizzily, she’d experienced oral sex, but apparently she had never experienced mind blowing oral sex. She threaded both hands into his hair and tried desperately not to be too rough. “Oh my god, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Hook chose that moment to thrust his fingers back inside her and Emma was gone, she came harder than she ever had, warm and tingly and wet as Hook continued to thrust his fingers into her and suck on her clit. She saw stars or dots or something behind her eyelids and there was a rush of waves nearby, or maybe that was just the adrenaline coursing in her ears. The little aftershocks pulsing and throbbing in her clit were heavenly and oh my god, that was fucking amazing, she thought.

“Get up here,” she purred, pulling on his hair.

“It seems someone was just as primed as I was,” Hook smirked as he slid back up the length of her body.

Emma silenced his smugness by wrapping her legs around waist and flipping him to his back. The rush of air that left Hook’s chest made her chuckle as she placed her hands on his cheeks and whispered to him between kisses. “Well, you’re very, very skilled,” she praised.

“You set the bar very high, love.”

Emma beamed at his compliment, her cheeks warming. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man that made her feel unlike she’d ever felt with another man. Like she was special and desired, it made her feel sexually free in a way she never had. Sitting astride Hook’s solid body, she caressed her hands along his chest, exploring his now dry chest hair, it was just as thick and glorious as she’d imagined. 

Emma could see the scars littering his flesh and she’d felt more when they’d been in the water and her hands had explored the expanse of his back. She wondered how rough his life had been to have this many physical scars. Her heart constricted a bit at that thought, especially already knowing he had just as many emotional scars as she did. She was both taken aback and a little frightened when she realized she wanted to know so much more about Hook. Maybe it was time to stop running from good things, Emma thought, her mind once again weighing the pros and cons of a relationship. Her train of thought was lewdly interrupted by a thrust of Hook’s hips, his hardness tapping at her back.

“Ready so soon, pirate,” she said in a husky tone while rising up on her knees and guiding him to her core. She ran the tip of his cock through her wet folds, both of them moaning with unadulterated lust. 

“Fuck yes,” he growled, thrusting his hips upward again. 

Emma cried out as his tip slipped inside her, a wave of arousal pooling and her belly tightening with want. She slid down his generous length, slowly savoring the drag against her slippery walls. She planted both hands on his chest and stilled her movements when he was fully seated, adjusting to his size. 

“You alright, love?” Hook asked, squeezing her hip gently while he circled his thumb over her hip bone.

She nodded her head and opened her eyes, which she didn’t realize she’d shut, to gaze down at the gorgeous man below her. “You feel good,” she praised, lifting her hips and sinking back down on to him. Emma set a languid pace, delighting in the sensation of fucking, the drag along her walls, angling herself so he hit that spot.

“That’s it, lass, take what you want,” Hook encouraged as Emma rode him; slowly at first, then building in pace as her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. He wished, not for the first time tonight, to be able to touch her with two hands. He encouraged her to touch her breasts as he changed course to play with her clit. 

Emma’s thighs began to burn as she worked to bring them both to that sweet edge of release, and the delicious friction between them built higher and higher. She palmed her breasts, tweaking her nipples and watched as Hook thumbed her clit in time with her thrusts. His hooded eyes roamed her body, and he bit down on his lip as he watched his cock disappear inside her heat over and over. She liked watching him watch her and the small grunts he gave each time she impaled herself and ground against him were hot. Emma found herself at the edge of bliss again and she whimpered as Hook began thrusting up into her.

Hook was having a hard time controlling his ardor, he wanted to flip them and plunge deeply into her. She was a vision, flushed pink, sweaty, breasts bouncing as she rode him to the edge. And then he heard her...

“Come with me, Killian,” she panted.

...and he was undone. The plea in her tone as she said his name and the massage of her walls against his cock as she began to come, ended him. He came hard and hot with a cry of her name, filling her with his seed until it began to spill as she continued to ride him through both of their releases. 

As euphoria traveled throughout her body, Emma slumped into Hook’s body. She’d never felt so gratified as her entire being thrummed with bliss. Hook turned them to their sides and kissed her fervently. Wrapping both her arms around him, Emma gave as good as she got, their tongues and lips engaging lovingly. She lost track of all time as they lay together, parting only when they needed breath. “That was-”

Hook covered her mouth much as she had covered his earlier. “Don’t,” he whispered with a pleading look in his eyes.

Emma wrapped her fingers around his palm and removed his hand, giggling quietly. “I didn’t mean it the first time, and I damn sure wouldn’t mean it this time,” she assured him, noting how his shoulders sagged in relief. “I was going to say that was amazing… brilliant,” she murmured into his ear. 

Hook chuckled, remembering the time he’d said those words to her. “Aye, Swan, we still make quite the team.”

Emma could only smile at the seamless harmony that flowed between them. And she kissed him once more before snuggling into him. 

As a sated exhaustion made itself known in her body, Emma rejoiced that it was still dark outside of the cave. A vigorous yawn and stretch wracked her body, and Killian chuckled lightly again.

“Did I wear you out?” 

Emma laughed as the same yawn tore through Hook, no sooner had he spoken his teasing words. “I think we wore each other out,” she snickered. 

“Aye lass, I believe you’re right. How about we get washed up and head back to the Jolly? I’ll give you the captain’s quarters, even though you lost.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Brag much?”

“What is the fun in winning a wager if I cannot gloat?”

“Such a pirate,” she muttered before rolling him to his back again. “How about we share the captain’s quarters?”

“Deal,” Hook accepted without hesitation. 

A half hour later, they were standing in the cave, bathed, and mostly dressed, Hook had gone to get Emma’s clothes for her from the opposite shoreline. 

“Shall we?” Hook asked, offering Emma his hand. He frowned when she made no attempt to move.

“I’d rather…” she started, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“Ah, I understand,” Hook said, quickly understanding. “Shall we head back in separate directions? Or perhaps, I’ll just stay here for a bit and come back later in the morning.”

Emma rolled her eyes again, this time with a bit of frustration, as she placed her hands on her hips. “That is not what I was going to say.”

Hook raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for her to explain.

“Has nothing I’ve said tonight gotten through to you? Or did that mind blowing sex make you forget?” She took his heavier than expected leather duster from where he had it draped over his arm and turned around to lay it out on the cave floor. 

Turning to face Hook again, she cupped his face in both hands. “Let’s recap, I like how you make me feel, I’m not worried about everyone finding out, best oral ever, sensational sex, no running away. I fancy you, Killian.” Emma finished her statement with a gentle kiss.

The gobsmacked look on Hook’s face made her laugh out loud. “I was going to say I’d rather spend the rest of the night here with you. We already know everyone else will know we’re safe. Even if Neal doesn’t outright blab; if Mary Margaret and David start to worry, he won’t hesitate to spill what he knows.” 

“You fancy me, love?”

Despite heavily stroking his ego by admitting he was the best she’d ever been with, it figured the part he’d pick up on was the closest she’d get to any kind of outright confession of feelings. Emma smacked her hand to her forehead. “Yes, Killian, I fancy you. Don’t get all cocky about it.”

“On my honor, I’ll not get cocky,” he promised before leaning in to kiss her, “as I quite fancy you as well. But you already know that.”  

Laying down on his jacket, the two snuggled together, Emma in panties and Hook’s shirt and Hook in his birthday suit.

“You needed to get naked again to go to sleep?” Emma asked with a little sarcasm in her tone.

“I’ll have you know that style and comfort do not go hand in hand, Swan. Those leathers, though appealing to the eye, do not make for great sleep clothes. Besides, all pirate’s know the only way to sleep when there’s a lovely lass in his bed, is in the nude. You know… easy access.”

“Why am I not surprised by that, Killian?”

“I’ll never tire of hearing you call me that,” he answered. 

“Killian,” she whispered.

“Aye, love?”

“Nothing, I just wanted you to hear me say it again.”

A boyish smile broke out over Killian’s face as he pulled her in tighter to his side. “Good night, Swan.”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

The End

Tagging some lovely shipmates - please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged - or if you’re reading and want me to tag you. 

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes​