#especially because this project took longer than I expected

[unbreakable-red-riot]

Hi!

I received my PDF copy but was wondering about the timeline to receive the physical copy in the mail? No rush! I just have to keep an eye on my incoming mail and I didn’t see a way to track a package on Kofi, though I’m not familiar with the site. ^^;

So excited to have your work on my shelves! ☺️

Hello! If you live in the US, yours will probably arrive in the next week or so. DM me if it doesn't and I can investigate. (There are a handful I haven't gotten to yet because their shipping labels got damaged and I need to reprint them.) If you live abroad, I ship yours, the handful that had damaged labels, and my art book contributors this week! The exact amount of time will depend on what country you live in, and how your customs treat the package. (I can also look into getting tracking for international packages. Will update you on if my shipping label service provides that option!)

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 你是我的一切。⸻[line without a hook.]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ‘I am a wreck when I’m without you’ ︳SJ.

Genre: fluff, suggestive, comfort, stable relationship (halfway).

Summary: You are the perfect boyfriend for him, you are everything he desires and craves... But malicious people always end up winning, sometimes.

C/w: Insecure reader, feminization, Jake being a sweetheart, reader being blind because of his insecurities. －ㅤTw: insecurity, fear, mention of depression, jealousy/envy. | nothing else, if it's the opposite, don't hesitate to let me know!

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤPrologue.

The first time you were paired up with Jake for a chemistry project, you weren’t sure what to expect. You’d heard the rumors—Jake Sim, the star quarterback, known for being aggressive on the field and a bit of a flirt off it. But there was something about Jake that drew you in, something beyond his athletic build and that charming smile seemingly designed to disarm anyone in his path.

It was his confidence, the way he carried himself like he owned the room wherever he went. And you, with your delicate demeanor, soft voice, and careful gestures, couldn’t help but wonder if you could ever measure up.

From day one in the lab, you noticed how Jake watched you, like he was trying to figure you out. Despite the differences between you, he didn’t seem fazed by your gentle manner. In fact, there was a curiosity in his gaze, almost like admiration, that made you both nervous and intrigued.

As time went on, his teasing and flirting became more apparent. Jake found excuses to brush your hand when passing you equipment, leaning in too close when he spoke, like he enjoyed being in your personal space. At first, it threw you off, but soon enough, you realized you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Every time he called you "prince" in that playful tone, your heart would race, even though you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing—especially when he did it in front of your classmates.

Jake, for his part, seemed to enjoy every moment with you. He made you laugh with his antics and didn’t hesitate to show his interest, no matter who was around. What started as a simple academic partnership quickly became something more. After class, Jake would invite you for coffee or a walk around campus, and before long, those moments became the highlight of your day.

The chemistry between you two was undeniable—and not just the kind in the lab. The lingering glances, the accidental touches, the smiles that lasted a beat too long... It was clear that both of you felt something more, something that went beyond friendship. But neither of you seemed willing to take the first step, like you were both waiting for the other to speak up.

One afternoon, after a long lab session, the two of you were alone in the hallway. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. You’d decided that this was the moment. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was normal when all you wanted was to be closer to Jake. Heart pounding, you turned to him, ready to say something, but before you could, Jake took your hand.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Jake said, his tone more serious than usual. His gaze locked onto yours, and in that moment, you knew he felt the same. “I don’t want to keep pretending we’re just lab partners or friends. You’re everything I’ve been looking for, and you drive me crazy, [...]. So, will you be my boyfriend?”

Your breath caught for a second. You’d been about to say the same thing, but Jake, in true Jake fashion, had beaten you to it. A shy smile crept onto your face, and before you could respond, he was already pulling you closer, waiting for your answer.

“Yes, Jake,” you whispered, feeling the warmth of his hand enveloping yours. “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend!!”

Jake didn’t wait any longer. He pulled you into a tight embrace, and in that moment, you knew you’d found someone who accepted you exactly as you were, someone who saw in you all the things you were still learning to love about yourself.

From then on, things only got more intense. Jake had no qualms about showing how much he cared about you, even in front of his football buddies or while walking around campus. To him, you were perfect just the way you were, and he made sure you knew it. What started as a simple lab partnership turned into something beautiful—into a love that knew no limits or fears, where both of you found comfort and happiness in each other.

A year had passed since your honeymoon with Jake began. Everything seemed perfect on the surface: the stolen kisses between classes, the prolonged hugs, and those nights when you stayed over at his apartment, curled up in his arms.

But in the last month, a shadow of doubt had begun to settle in your heart, an insecurity you hadn’t felt before. You tried to ignore it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Spontaneously, you started creating an irrational fear that you couldn’t meet the standards people had set for Jake’s partner.

That afternoon, after a particularly long class, you left the classroom intending to find Jake. You knew he was always waiting for you, no matter how late you finished.

And there he was, just as you had imagined, but this time, you saw him talking to Chloe, his lifelong friend. They were at a certain distance, far enough that you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but even so, just seeing them together made a pang of insecurity pierce your chest.

You stopped for a moment, watching the scene. Chloe laughed at something Jake had said, and then, as if she noticed, she looked at you from afar. She pointed in your direction, smiling broadly, and although you couldn’t hear her words, you could read her lips: "Your boyfriend is out, go kiss him, tiger."

Jake quickly turned, and upon seeing you, his expression changed. His eyes lit up, and a radiant smile appeared on his face.

He waved Chloe goodbye with a quick hand gesture and a friendly smile before heading towards you. You felt your heart race as he approached, but this time, it wasn’t just the excitement of seeing him, but also that pang of doubt you couldn’t shake off.

When Jake finally reached you, he didn’t wait a second before wrapping you in a warm embrace. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, covering every inch of your face with little kisses that made you feel a mix of relief and anxiety.

"Finally, my love," he whispered against your skin, his voice full of affection and a hint of desperation. "Another minute in there, and I was about to go in and carry you out like a prince. I missed you so much." His tone was playful, and you couldn’t help but smile, though that shadow still lingered in the back of your mind, with that irritating little voice.

As you walked together towards the exit, Jake kept his arm around your waist, as he always did, showing you with every gesture how much he cared for you.

However, in the past month, those same gestures that once filled you with security now made you wonder if you were really enough for him.

What if he was more comfortable with girls like Chloe, who weren’t just attractive, but also shared his energy and personality? What if you, with your femininity, were a burden or something he had to tolerate? Why the hell weren’t you a girl?

You started recalling how, in recent weeks, you had noticed some passive-aggressive comments from Jake’s friends, especially his soccer team.

Things like: "[...] would be the perfect girl if only you were... well, a girl," or "Jake, your boyfriend looks like he’s from a fashion show, wouldn’t you like him to be more like... you know, a girl? Instead of an effeminate faggot pretending to be a woman." Although said in a joking tone, those words had begun to take root in your mind, making you question if you were really what Jake wanted or if, deep down, he also wished you were different.

With every comment, you felt that dark shadow slowly embracing you, making you start to feel disgusted by yourself, by who you were, by being you.

You tried to shake off those thoughts as you walked together, but you couldn’t help a part of you from feeling hurt and vulnerable. Jake noticed you were quieter than usual and pulled you a little closer to his side, looking down at you with concern.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked softly, leaning down to search your eyes. "You seem a little distant... Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?"

You shook your head, forcing yourself to smile. "It’s nothing, just... a bit tired, I guess."

Jake frowned slightly, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push further at that moment. Instead, he kept walking with you towards the exit, maintaining his protective embrace around you. But even as he surrounded you with his warmth, the doubt in your mind kept growing, darkening what should have been a happy moment.

You didn’t want Jake to think you didn’t trust him, but those comments and your own insecurities were eating you up inside.

You knew that eventually, you would have to be honest with him, that you would have to talk about what was bothering you, but you weren’t sure how to start without sounding weak or insecure.

And so, the silence between you remained, filled with unspoken words and unexpressed emotions, as you kept walking together towards the exit.

The weeks that followed your change in style were a whirlwind of emotions.

What started as a simple insecurity soon turned into an obsession that affected every aspect of your life.

The new clothes you had adopted, the loose shirts and dark jeans, not only transformed your appearance but also made you feel increasingly disconnected from who you really were, you were losing yourself. Every morning, when you looked in the mirror, you saw someone you didn’t recognize, and that only increased your anxiety.

Your insecurities grew so much that you even started dreaming of the worst-case scenario. In your nightmares, Jake laughed at you, mocking your efforts to fit in.

In some dreams, he confessed that he was with Chloe or other girls, as if the image you had created of yourself had completely failed to retain his attention.

You would wake up in the middle of the night with a racing heart, drenched in cold sweat, and found it hard to fall back asleep. These dreams only intensified the fear and insecurity you already felt in your daily life.

The change in your behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Jake’s friends. They started making increasingly blatant comments about your appearance. "Wow, [...], are you trying to be more masculine, or is it just a phase?" one of them joked, while another added, "With those clothes, you could finally pass as a guy. What’s up? Are you trying to impress someone?"

Although the words were wrapped in laughter, you couldn’t help but feel that they were criticizing an essential part of who you were. The discomfort was reflected on your face, and although you tried to respond with a smile, inside, you felt devastated.

What partly filled you with anger was that they always waited for the exact moment when Jake wasn’t around, avoiding his defensiveness with you.

Jake, for his part, was in a constant state of worry. He saw you growing more distant, and his attempts to get closer only seemed to make you more evasive. He had noticed how your responses were becoming shorter and how the excuses to not spend time with him were becoming more frequent.

Every time he invited you to his apartment, you found a reason to avoid it.

"I’m tired," you would say. "I’m really sleepy." "I don’t feel well." "I have to study for exams..."

Although Jake tried to maintain a compassionate attitude and not pressure you, his concern was evident.

Every time you were absent, he spent the time thinking about what he might have done wrong, wondering if there was something he could do to help you. He would spend sleepless nights going over old messages and analyzing conversations, looking for any clue that would indicate where he had failed.

One afternoon, while checking his phone, Jake found a message that made his heart stop. It was from a friend on his team, making a subtle jab about your appearance: "Did you see how [...] has been dressing lately? Looks like he’s trying to be more like a normal guy. What’s going on in his head?"

Jake’s worry turned into anguish. "What was happening to [...]?"

Not only did he see you growing distant, but it also seemed like you were forcing yourself to change your identity to fit a mold that wasn’t yours. Jake was desperate to get to the bottom of what was going on, but every time he tried to talk to you, you shut down even more.

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One night, while you were in your room, clutching a pillow and feeling overwhelming sadness, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

The person you saw was not the same one who loved Jake, nor the one Jake had known and cherished from the beginning. Tears began to flow, and you felt trapped in a prison of insecurities that you had built for yourself.

You hated seeing yourself like this; your spark was gone, and your essence was missing. You were no longer the person who used to brighten the day just with their smile.

You didn’t know how to escape this maze of self-deception and fear, and the dread of Jake discovering your pain without you being able to tell him the truth only heightened your distress.

You wondered if, by being honest, you would only confirm your worst fears: that you weren’t enough, that Jake might find someone better, and that your efforts to fit in had only caused more damage.

Seeing your growing avoidance and the pain in your eyes, Jake was determined to do something, even though he didn’t know exactly what. His love for you was unconditional, and every time he saw you drifting away, he felt an overwhelming helplessness, his heart aching and squeezing with pain.

He wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to change, that he loved you just as you were, but he didn’t know how to break through the barrier you had erected.

The night you found yourself in your room, crying and wishing things could go back to how they were before, Jake was at his apartment, feeling a deep emptiness in his chest. He knew he couldn’t go on like this; he had to find a way to reach you before the distance between you became an insurmountable chasm.

So, he decided to send you a message, inviting you over to his apartment the next day for a whole day alone together.

Jake knew he needed to spend some one-on-one time with you to talk about what was happening and try to understand the distance you had placed between you two.

The message arrived on your phone in the middle of the rainy night.

Reading it, you felt paralyzed, unsure how to respond. You knew it was time to face reality and stop avoiding Jake. For long minutes, you wrestled with whether to write a sincere reply or come up with another excuse. You typed and deleted messages repeatedly:

"I'm sorry, but I have a lot of studying to do."

You deleted the message, feeling it wasn’t a real reason to avoid Jake.

Then you tried another: "I'm not sure if I’m free tomorrow…”

Again, you deleted it, feeling it was a vague excuse.

Finally, after much thought, you wrote something more genuine.

"Hi love, thanks for the invitation. I think spending the day with you would be good for me. What time would you like me to come?"

Sending the message brought a mix of relief and nervousness, as you constantly checked your phone for his reply. You knew this meeting was inevitable and that, although you feared facing the truth, it was also necessary.

Jake was your boyfriend, someone who loved you deeply, and he deserved to know what was going on.

Jake replied quickly: "Perfect. I’m looking forward to seeing you :((. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 10 am!"

You spent the night tossing and turning in bed, consumed by anxiety. You imagined how the conversation would go, feeling a weight in your chest.

Doubts and fears tormented you: How would you explain your insecurities to Jake? How would you put into words the anguish you felt without it seeming like an attack on his love for you?

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The next day, you arrived at Jake’s house with a mix of nervousness and hope. Jake greeted you with a warm hug, a gentle kiss on the lips, and a whisper full of affection: “I’ve missed you so much, my beautiful prince.” His gaze was fixed on yours, his eyes shining with an intensity that took your breath away, revealing all the love and devotion he felt for you. Every time he looked at you, you could feel his heart beating only for you, as if the entire galaxy was reflected in his eyes.

You spent the morning together, enjoying a homemade meal and an afternoon of movies. Jake couldn’t stop caressing your hand, drawing soft circles with his thumb, or stealing quick kisses on your forehead, cheek, and lips. Each kiss was filled with a restrained passion, as if he couldn’t resist the need to be close to you, to reaffirm his love for you.

However, the warmth of the environment couldn’t dispel the tension you felt. Jake noticed your discomfort and, by the end of the afternoon, looked at you with concern.

“Love,” he began, his voice soft and low, as his fingers gently stroked your cheek, “I know something is bothering you, something you’ve been keeping to yourself for a while. I’ve noticed you’ve been distant and evasive lately.” His eyes never left yours, searching to understand what was going on in your heart. “I just want to know what’s really happening.”

You sat on the couch, trying to gather the courage to speak. Jake moved closer to you, his warm hands holding yours, and his eyes filled with understanding and tenderness. The silence grew heavy as you searched for the right words. Jake leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again, as if to tell you that he was there, that there was nothing to fear.

Finally, you lay back on the couch next to him, feeling his comforting warmth. Jake wrapped his arms around you, offering a steady support. With your voice trembling, you began to speak.

“Jake,” you started, your voice breaking with emotion, “I’ve been feeling so insecure. The way some of your friends make comments about my appearance, and how they compare me to a girl... Plus, whenever you’re not around, they take the opportunity to tell me I’d look better as a girl and to stop pretending to be so feminine... I-I’ve tried to change my style, dressing in a more masculine way, because I thought maybe that would make you more comfortable and that you wouldn’t have to deal with my way of being. But instead, I’ve only felt more lost, constantly comparing myself to your friend, to the cheerleaders... I envy them because I can’t be them, I can’t be what people expect when they find out I’m your partner...”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks, and Jake hugged you tighter, his concern evident. Gently, he started to stroke your hair and kiss your forehead, whispers filled with affection and comfort.

“Love, you don’t have to change anything to fit into some stupid standard that people created themselves,” Jake whispered, kissing your cheek as his hands continued to caress you with palpable devotion. “What I want most is for you to be happy and confident in yourself. It doesn’t matter how you dress or how you feel, I love you for who you are. You are perfect for me, just as you are.”

Jake continued to speak, his lips brushing your skin with each word, infusing every kiss and caress with a love that seemed endless. He looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with honesty and a love so deep that made you feel secure.

“When we get married, I’ll know that I’ll be joined in heart and soul with the best man in the world. I don’t want you to feel like you have to change anything for me to love you more. This heart only beats fast for you, you are my reason for everything. In fact, I’m the one who fears not meeting your expectations; I want to be the best boyfriend and future husband for you.”

His words were a balm for your anguish, and he hugged you even tighter, stroking your head and back. As you lay on his chest, feeling his heart beat in a calm and steady rhythm, Jake continued to whisper words of love and support.

“What I want, more than anything, is for you to be okay,” Jake said, his voice soft but firm. His fingers traced through your hair before descending down your neck, caressing every inch of your skin with infinite tenderness. “If there’s anything I can do to help you feel better, I’ll do it without hesitation. I’m here for you, to listen and support you in whatever you need.”

Jake’s words wrapped you in a cloak of comfort, and gradually, you felt more at ease. The weight of your insecurities began to lighten, and for the first time in weeks, you felt understood and loved. Jake, with his unconditional love, was willing to do anything to make you happy, to keep you safe, and to ensure you always knew how much he loved you.

Jake continued to hold you as you calmed down and started to relax, his voice soft and reassuring in your ears: “Remember, this heart only beats for you. You are the reason for my happiness, and nothing will change that, absolutely nothing or no one.”

That day at Jake’s apartment became a turning point for both of you, a reminder that even in moments of insecurity, true love can light the way to understanding and mutual growth. Jake loved you like no one else ever had, and his gaze, his touches, and his kisses were living proof of that unwavering devotion.

ㅤㅤㅤBonus scene.

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The café was full of students chatting and laughing, but for you and Jake, the world was reduced to that small corner where you both enjoyed each other's company. After the difficult days you had been through, you had become yourself again, regaining your confidence and style, feeling at peace with who you were. Jake had always been by your side, never leaving you for a moment, showing his love in a thousand ways, ensuring you never doubted his devotion again.

And when I say in any way... He did, he made you love your body from the moment you stayed at his place and his hands roamed to other places, but anyway!

You were sitting at a table by the window, enjoying a quiet lunch. Jake had you hugged around the waist, his hand gently caressing your hip as you shared a few bites and a laugh or two. Every now and then, Jake would lean in to kiss your neck, making you smile and laugh with that familiar tickle you enjoyed so much. His affection was so natural, so evident, that it made you feel loved and protected at all times.

As he traced small circles on your waist, you turned to look at him and found those eyes that always looked at you with adoration. Jake smiled and planted a kiss on your cheek, his lips lingering a bit longer than usual on your skin, as if he wanted to mark that moment.

Suddenly, a group of guys burst into the café, their hurried steps leading them directly to you. They were Jake's friends, the same ones who weeks earlier had made hurtful comments about your appearance and had, 'unintentionally,' triggered all your insecurities.

They stopped in front of you, their faces pale and their eyes filled with a mix of terror and regret.

"P-please, forgive us!," one of them said, with a trembling voice, "we didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It was j-just a joke... We really didn’t think it would affect you like this!"

You were left blank, unsure how to react. The guys, who were usually so confident and joking, now looked like scolded puppies, heads down and pleading eyes.

You looked at Jake, hoping he would help you decide what to do. When you turned to him, you noticed something that left you frozen: Jake's expression had changed drastically.

His eyes, which just moments ago had shone with love and tenderness, were now cold, almost inhuman.

He looked at them with barely contained fury, his lips forming a tight line while his hands remained on your waist, but now with a firmer grip, pulling you closer to him, to the point where your leg and his were completely pressed together—as if he were protecting you from something.

That murderous look on his face left you speechless; you had never seen him like this, and the intensity of his anger was palpable.

Jake’s friends noticed the change too, and their nervousness intensified. They looked even smaller under Jake’s icy gaze, as if they knew they were in danger.

After moments that felt eternal, you decided to speak, trying to ease the tension: "It’s okay... Don’t worry, it’s over."

But before you could close the issue with a kind smile, Jake whispered in your ear, his voice deep and soft, almost a dangerous murmur: "My sweet boy, no. It’s not okay what they did." His hand slid down your back to your waist, squeezing it affectionately but with a determination that brooked no refusal. "Do you forgive them or not, my prince? After all the crap they made you go through."

Jake looked at you with so much love and adoration that it completely disarmed you. Despite his fury, his eyes reflected such pure affection that you could feel the warmth of his heart melting away any doubt. You could almost see his pupils dilating into hearts as he awaited your response.

Not knowing what else to do, you nodded shyly and murmured: "Uh, well, yes... I forgive them, just... let it not happen again, please."

The guys quickly nodded, their faces full of relief and still fear, looking pale. "Y-yes, of course! We’ll never do anything like that again, we promise," they said with trembling voices before rushing away as fast as they could, as if fleeing from a predator.

When they finally left the café, Jake let out a soft laugh, one that seemed a bit darker than usual, and gave you a shiver down your spine.

You knew Jake was protective and possessive, but that laugh revealed a side of him you had barely glimpsed. A side that secretly fascinated you. Despite how unsettling it could be, you couldn’t help but be attracted to that intensity, to that almost dangerous devotion Jake had just for you.

"Bastards," Jake murmured with a crooked smile before turning his attention back to you.

And as if that dark side had never existed, he kissed you gently on the cheek, then on the lips, and finally on the neck, returning to being the same loving guy who made you feel like the most special person in the world.

His hands resumed tracing those soft circles on your waist while his lips left small kisses wherever they reached.

"I love you so much, baby," he whispered against your skin, and you knew he meant it. Jake wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you again. You were safe in his arms, loved in a way only Jake could offer you, with a mix of sweetness, passion, and a touch of danger that made your heart race.

Then, you squinted and looked at him with curiosity, raising an eyebrow. "Jaaaake... You had something to do with what just happened, didn’t you?"

Jake paused for a moment, only to then laugh softly against your neck. The sound was low, almost conspiratorial, and you felt his warm breath on your skin as his lips curved into a smile. Without moving his face from your neck, he whispered in your ear: "Mmh... Let’s just say I made sure they understood not to get involved in what does not concern them.."

You were left open-mouthed, surprised by what you had just heard. It wasn’t a direct threat, but the way Jake had said it... with that dangerous calm, made you understand that he had made it clear to those guys not to mess with you, at least not near you and him.

"What...?" You managed to stammer, still trying to process the situation.

Jake let out a small chuckle, noting your surprise. "Sorry, my love, but I had to make sure they understood that no one, absolutely no one, messes with you without facing me. You're mine and I have to protect you, always."

Despite how shocked you were, you couldn't help but smile. There was something about that protective, even a bit sadistic side of Jake that attracted you. The way he was willing to anything to make you feel safe, loved, was further proof of how deep his love for you was.

And when Jake kissed you again, first on the cheek, then on the lips, and finally on the neck, the whole world disappeared again, leaving you only with the guy who loved you more than anyone ever could.

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ I projected myself when writing this, but okay, I hope the bonus has continued... Necessary to the plot, Jake won't always be a sugar cube. He has to take care of what's his, y’know.

아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!! <3

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty

authors note: this is more on the boring/filler side, and i apologize for that, but it covers some necessary things and hints at other things. plus, the one after this is wrestlemania and then after that is the infamous disney trip, and those def won't be boring/fillers. 👀

also, what do you ya'll think reader is having? i'm also open to name suggestions cause i hate naming characters lmao

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 6.6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @wanderingreigns @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @romanreignsbae

Life is one crazy ass ride.

You’ve always known this, but the past few months have really shown you just how insane things can be. It’s been up, it’s been down, it’s been just a fucking rollercoaster of events and emotions, but somehow, things always seen to work out in your favor.

You expected, maybe more so hoped, that your Live with Jadah would go over well. Would help people see and understand that there’s so much more to the story, so much more to you than the lies that have been fed to them by your apparently psychotic ex-best friend. That was the semi-goal.

Well, to say that goal was met is a bit of an understatement.

The Live went viral, spreading and making it to most global and some international platforms. TMZ formally issued an apology to you, Joe, and Jadah, and retracted their story with Mariah, even scrubbing the interview, which Joe’s legal team believes is only to avoid getting caught up in the several lawsuits she’s been slapped with. 

So many publications have turned the tide, no longer speaking on you and your situation with an almost judgmental stance but rather just reposting the Live and letting the facts speak for themselves.

And social media…..holy shit. 

One thing you never expected was for the Live to go viral, but you especially never expected for yourself to also go viral in a different way, that is.

While the general public was initially against you, bashing you every which way to Sunday, it’s almost completely turned with the vast majority now utterly and wholly intrigued with you. They’ve dug up old headshots from when you cheered in college, clips of you either practicing or competing, and a few Snap videos you were in, again, all during your college years.

Not to mention the clips they took from the Live, primarily of you playfully twerking with Jadah. That clipped with the TikToks you did with Naomi has resulted in people making TikToks and “edits,” as Alexis explained, posting and sharing everywhere.

Apparently, the vast majority of social media finds you extremely attractive, and have even been comparing you to the infamous prison bae, Jeremy Meeks, from way back when. Minus the criminal aspects, of course.

“Look at this one! These are my favorite.” Alexis turns her phone so the group of you can see what is yet another edit of you, err, more so your ass than anything to good googly moogly by Project Pat, which apparently was already going viral on TikTok as people post videos of friends and loved ones with a nice ass. Seems you’ve been added to that group.

“I don’t get the fascination,” you admit with a shake of your hand, fingers tapping against your glass of lemonade. “Like, I’m not even famous.”

“You kinda are now,” Bianca suggests. It's a crazy suggestion, too, because in what world does someone like you, from a small ass town with virtually no major social media footprint, qualify as famous. “Not like, A-List celeb famous, but you don’t make it to the Shade Room if you’re not at least kinda famous.”

Alexis makes a sound, adding, “ya’ll whole lil situation made the March event on their calendar.”

“On their what?” Jadah is understandably confused, asking, “what the hell does that even mean?”

“Twin, I’m gonna need to make a PowerPoint for you or something.”

“Please do, and make sure to add the fancy transitions.”

“Custom slide backgrounds?”

“You know the key to my heart.”

The meeting and union of Jadah and Alexis remains to be seen as one of the worst or best things you could have ever done. They’re so damn similar it felt almost criminal to not introduce them, but with both having such strong personalities, a clash could be one of the titans. So far, however, they’re vibing just as well as you and Jadah have. Hence why all of these ladies are sitting around your coffee table, various drinks in hand, most alcoholic, except for yours of course. 

Which reminds you…

“Oh shit,” you announce, four sets of eyes falling on you as you realize you haven’t shared the news with the majority of them, ironically, Jadah being the only one to know. “I haven’t had a chance to ask.”

You decide to be dramatic as hell, pausing as Alexis is the first to say, impatiently, “ask what, hoe?”

Another pause followed by an intentional rub of your belly as you nonchalantly ask, “which one of ya’ll wants to be in charge of planning the baby shower?”

You’re met with instant screams and squeals of enjoyment, a big smile falling on your face as you’re hit with all of the questions and exclamations. 

“I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time before BDJ struck again!”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“No freaking way! That’s amazing!”

“I’m gonna act like I didn’t already know, so congratulations, great value sister wife!”

Alexis and Jadah’s statements make you laugh while Bianca and Kaylah’s cause your heart to swell. You then try to quiet them down, “thank you, guys. We’re excited. But, we haven’t told Callie yet, so please keep it to yourselves.”

“Of course.” Kaylah excitedly asks, “how far along are you?”

“Almost three months,” you answer, proudly. Although entirely unexpected, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, you’ve found your excitement at this pregnancy growing every single day. Excitement at having another child, giving Callie the chance to be a big sister, to give Joe the opportunity to experience this pregnancy with you from conception to birth and beyond. He deserves it, especially now that you know what he went through with Jadah.

“Wait. Damn. This means we can’t have a hot girl summer until next year!” Alexis is pouting as she downs the rest of her drink before reaching for the bottle to get a refill. “You couldn’t let that nigga shoot up the club later this fall instead.”

Kaylah’s nose turns up as she also takes a sip of her moscato but not before muttering, “didn’t need that visual.”

Rolling your eyes, you point out, “Alexis, we are too damn old to be having a hot girl summer. Half of us are moms and/or in relationships except your non-committal ass.”

Non-committal has nothing to do with the topic that floats to the front of your mind, but having a room full of women to consult with seems like a perfect opportunity to discuss something that’s still bothering you to some extent.

“Let me ask ya’ll something.” You take a sip of your sparkling apple cider and get to explaining. “So, every time I try to talk to Joe about planning for when the baby gets here, like having my mom or his mom come stay with us a bit to help out when he’s on the road, he either ignores me, changes the subject, or just pacifies me. And I’m trying really hard not to cuss him out, but between baby emotions and me being me, it’s hard.”

Being perceptive is always something you’ve prided yourself on, valued as one of your attributes, so it’s hard not to miss when Kaylah, Alexis, and even Jadah all look suddenly uncomfortable with your question, like they also want to change the subject.

Bianca is the first and only to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s kind of weird.” Her agreement is the quintessential example of validation you were needing for this situation. “I get you’re barely three months, but why not start with the plans now? The sooner the better since it seems like his schedule is pretty hectic.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you echo her sentiments. “Exactly! And one thing to know about me, which I know he has to know about me is that I like to plan. I hate surprises. We need to start figuring out this shit now.”

“I’d definitely talk to him about it, cause men can be very go with the flow, but this isn’t one of those things that I think should be go with the flow.”

“I feel like you should maybe just wait it out and see where the cards fall.” Kaylah’s suggestion is casual, but her eye contact is sparse, and you actually don’t know what to make of that. 

Jadah contributes to the conversation with agreement to Kaylah’s point. “I agree. Trust your man, whore.”

“But—” And as if present and overhearing said conversation, your phone starts to ring, the man himself filling up your lock screen. “Speaking of the devil…..” You lift and show your phone to the group. “I gotta take this ya’ll.”

“Well, duh.” Alexis says like it’s a no brainer. “BDJ probably won’t stop calling until you pick up anyway.”

Laughing, you untangle your legs and climb off the sofa at the same time you answer his FaceTime, quickly telling him, “hold on.”

“I’ll be back,” you inform, but the last thing you hear is Bianca making the awful mistake of asking Alexis what “BDJ” stands for. Alexis and Jadah start to laugh. 

Obviously, Jadah also knows what’s up. 

Locking the door behind you, you sit down on the patio set that was delivered only two days prior and situate your phone on the accompanying table. Legs crossed, you give him the go, “okay, i’m good now. Just wanted some privacy.”

He doesn’t hesitate to slide right into protective papa bear mode. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Your hand unintentionally lands on your stomach as you explain, “had some nausea this morning, but that’s not out of the norm. I had pretty bad morning sickness when I was pregnant with Callie the first few months.”

You can tell he’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, leaning more on the concerned and conservative side. “When’s your next checkup?”

“April 8th. I made sure to schedule it so you can be there.” Joe indicated he wanted the first Monday after WrestleMania to be a day of rest for you and Callie, and it can still be, but you also couldn’t miss the opportunity for him to be a part of your first official well-baby visit. Especially with this being the first time you’ll be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

That must especially be special for him.

“I promise I’m okay, Joe.” Out of respect for him and his emotional state at such an important time in his life, you haven’t told him everything Jadah shared with you. Haven’t made him aware of your knowledge regarding his loss. You’re not sure if you ever will, to be honest. If he wishes to discuss that with you, you’ll always be there to listen and support. But, there’s zero desire to dig up painful memories and trigger this man. 

That doesn’t, however, mean you can’t reassure him when you can see there’s a level of anxiety and apprehension. 

“If I wasn’t, you and Dr. Young would be the first to know.” It’s a promise. You would never do anything to risk unnecessary complications with this pregnancy. “How do you feel? You look tired.”

He’s looked as such for the past couple weeks, and you feel slightly bad, knowing the whole Mariah ordeal must have taken a toll on him. Not to mention his intense training and preparation for WrestleMania.

Of course, he just shrugs, playing it off. “I’m good.” You make a knowing sound. “What?”

“Seriously, Joe. This is me. I know you like the back of my hand. You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit as such.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

Joe is every bit stubborn as he is caring. He won’t agree with you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying any less true.

“Whatever, just know I’m giving you a well deserved massage when we come to see you next week.” Coyly, you imply with a shrug of your shoulder. “And maybe a lil’ more depending on the layout of your place and if we can get some privacy from your lil’ twin.”

“Naw, that lil more is happening no matter what, even if I have to fuck you in the rental.”

His tone of surety makes you laugh as you think about something. “I don’t think we’ve ever fucked in a car before.” The list of places this man has been balls deep in you is endless, but a vehicle and plane seem to have not made the list. Yet. “Might have to change that.”

He also laughs. “Wherever you want it, baby, you just gotta tell me when and how.” Just more and more reasons to love this man to infinity and beyond. He matches your freak so well.

Joe asks about Callie, of course, and you let him know she’s in seven heaven playing with her cousin in her new room that’s gradually filling up even though she still doesn’t even have all of her stuff from back in your apartment. It also goes without saying that you remind him she’s absolutely thrilled to see him soon, the same as you, which is the same as him. Reunions between the three of you are just all around enjoyable.

Naturally, Joe apologizes, for no good reason, at not being able to come with you as you take Callie back to your hometown for your final apartment walkthrough and to close all other matters, officially making your move to Florida complete. It’s a bit of a bittersweet thing, leaving the place you grew up and have so many memories in. However, what’s ahead of you is so much better than what’s behind you. 

And while you would love Joe to be able to come too, it’s also not necessary.

Especially when he finds out what else is on your agenda before you say goodbye for good. 

Realizing your time with him could be cut at any moment, you decide it’s now or never to break the news to him. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I know right off the bat, you’re not going to be in agreement, but I need you to just hear me out.”

He’s hesitant and already skeptical but nods. “I’m listening.”

A deep breath followed by a quick prayer to the big man that Joe will at least try to be open to this plan. “I’m gonna go see my dad while I’m there.”

This is something you’ve really been thinking about, on and off, since the Christmas ordeal. It just hasn’t been such a major priority given all the other fires you’ve been having to put out. Alexis was right when she said the dynamic with your dad has a lot to do with the situation with Joe and not telling him about Callie.

And you being able to acknowledge that has made you realize you’ve been holding onto a lot of pain and anger towards that man. More pain than anything. And it’s time to let it go. The same way you’re leaving that town for good, albeit bittersweet, you need to drop the baggage of hurt at the door before the curtain closes permanently.

In this case, that means sitting in front of the man who is your biological father and nothing more, speaking your peace, and closing that chapter.

For good. 

To some extent, you expected, maybe more so hoped, for Joe to be more receptive. 

It was wishful thinking, at best.

Immediately, he protests, face turned up in a scowl that reminds you of Callie when she’s in one of her moods. “Like hell you—”

Closing your eyes, you do your best to keep your voice leveled. “Hear me out, please.”

“Y/N, do you not remember the last time you saw that man?” Most definitely do you remember. That was definitely a low moment for you. “You were a fucking wreck. I’m not seeing you go through that again, especially with you being pregnant.”

“Do you really think if I had even an inkling it wouldn’t be safe for our baby I’d be doing it? Come on, Joe. You know me. I would never put either of our children in harm's way.” And you know he knows this, knows this very well, but you can also understand his anxiety from a couple different angles. “Before when I saw him, I was still looking for his love and approval. I can admit that now.” It’s been a tough pill to swallow, going back and forth between emotion and logic, coming to grips with such an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t need that anymore. I don’t even want it. I have you. I have Callie. My mom. Our friends. Even this new baby, but if I’m leaving that town for good, I need to leave all of the hurt it brought me there too. That includes making my peace with him.”

When he still doesn't say anything, you continue to plead your case.

“I need to do this, Joe. I’m not asking you to understand.” You’re not quite sure he could. This is one of those things that unless you’ve lived it, lived with a neglectful, uninvolved parent, you just couldn’t get it. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you already know it’s because he’s sitting on your words, doing his best to meet you where you are. Eventually, he says in a resigned voice, “I don’t want you going alone.”

There’s an immense amount of gratitude for his blessing, and his request is more than fair.  You also figured as such, assuring him, “I already talked with Bianca about it. She’s gonna go with me.” 

This seems to make him feel at least a little bit better. He scratches his beard. “Alright. But the minute you start feeling off—”

“I’ll cut it off. I know.” That goes without saying. You meant what you said. Nothing could make you put your baby at risk. “Thank you, Joe.”

Not wanting this to be the last topic you discuss, you switch gears a bit to something that will hopefully lessen his unease. “I also think we should tell Callie when we come to see you next week. I just told the girls today, and I’m gonna tell my mom while I’m there. Callie deserves to know.” The order of which you’ve told people about your pregnancy isn’t exactly how you would have preferred it to go. In a perfect world, it would have been Joe, Calllie, your mom, and then your close friends. But, life be lifing, so you just have to roll with it as best you can. 

Joe nods. “I agree.” You overhear a distant voice in the background before his gaze falls on you. “I gotta go, babe.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. “I get it.” This pregnancy has your emotions a bit on the high, sensitive end, because there’s no reason for you to feel like crying just because this man has to get back to work. You miss him like crazy, sure, but this has always been a bit of the dynamic. You get him in doses, sometimes big, sometimes small. “Can we still call you tonight? You know Callie can’t sleep unless she can tell both of us goodnight.”

It’s such a twist, a beautiful, unexpected thing. Once upon a time, it was just you she needed to see and/or speak to before she could fall asleep. But now, it’s both you and Joe, and you honestly couldn't love that more. 

Their relationship and bond is so precious to you.

And now that you understand what Joe’s been through, you can see why he’s always willing to move heaven and earth for her. She’s the little girl he’s always wanted and finally has.

“Of course.” You weren’t expecting any other answer. “I love you.”

A warm smile sets on your face. “I love you too, baby.”

You settle on a time that works best for him and end the call. Ignoring the sadness at not being able to talk to him further, you walk back in the house for a sure pick-me-up.

“Well, it’s about time,” Bianca teases, dimples nice and pronounced. “Thought we were gonna have to check on ya’ll.”

“No, she’s back too early….” Alexis, as per usual, confuses you when she asks, “ya’ll weren’t having phone sex?” She curses and then grabs her purse, digging out her wallet, slapping a wad of cash into Jadah’s expecting hand.

“Told you,” Jadah says knowingly, smirk on her pretty face as she counts the cash. “One thing I do know about Joe is he’s an all out type of man. It’s rounds or nothing.” She then looks over at you, apologizing, “hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” It’s an honest answer. You’re old, mature, and secure enough to acknowledge and be okay with the fact your man has been with her in almost every way he’s probably been with you. Outside of the emotional connection component, which is really what matters the most to you. Sex would just be sex if you didn’t love him as much as you do. If he didn’t love you as much as he does. That’s what makes it so explosive. 

“Well, it bothers me!”  Kaylah looks so disgusted, and you can’t blame her. “Joe is literally like my brother!” 

Bianca cosigns with a shake of her head. “And it bothers me because Y/N literally is my sister.”

“That’s so wild, so ya’ll are half sisters, right?” Jadah asks, pointing between the two of you as you move back onto the sofa. “Same mom or…..”

“No, same dad, but we don’t claim him.”

Jadah makes an ‘O’ with her mouth as Alexis leans over to whisper something in her ear. “Got it. Daddy issues. Ya’ll should just jump him then.”

“That’s what I said! Stomp his ole’ mean ass.”

Yeah…..putting Alexis and Jadah together may have created a new kind of threat to society.

“Anyway.” Refocusing them is really the best and only option. “As we were discussing, ya’ll think I should bring it up to Joe when we fly there next week?” You then remember the pact mentality and aim your question toward Bianca. “Let me just ask you, cause you seem to be the only one who gets where I’m coming from.”

At that, Bianca opens and closes her mouth. “Oh. That. I…..I think you should just leave it alone. I’m sure Joe has his reasons.”

Now it’s your turn to look shocked. “What? That’s not what you said literally not even 10 minutes ago.”

Bianca switching up on you definitely wasn’t in the cards, especially since she was providing you all the affirmation and validation you were seeking in your dilemma. 

She looks off, almost in a guilty, sheepish way. “I changed my mind….”

“What did ya’ll say to her?” It’s directed toward Alexis and and even Jadah, because Kaylah doesn’t seem like the type to try to sway people one way or the other. “Can’t leave ya’ll asses alone for two minutes.”

“I don’t like your tone, Mama Mia. Watch it.” Alexis warns, and you can only roll your eyes. “What you need to be focused on is what you’re gonna wear to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Kaylah gasps, also remembering. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.”

Your eyes land on her with premature excitement. “You’re going to the awards too?” She nods and you let out a big sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I was kinda nervous. I’m sure Trinity is going too, but the more the merrier, I feel like I’m gonna be so out of place there or everyone’s going to hate me.”

“Girl, like Joe is going to let that happen.” Jadah is, surprisingly, the first one to jump to calm your nerves. “Him taking you in and of itself is such a ‘fuck you’ move. He really said ya’ll not about to bully the woman I love and think I’m finna just keep her on the backburner.”

“I agree.” Kaylah chimes, providing additional and useful context. “The internet wrestling community is a cesspool, and they’ll always find some reason to complain and bitch, but Joe has never been about that. He’s gonna have you on his arm regardless of who has something to say about it.” 

“Ummmm, why are we acting like majority of the internet isn’t all on Y/N’s dick now that ya’ll cleared up the air?” Alexis lifts her phone, adding, “I literally can’t get on TikTok or Twitter without seeing edits and photos of Y/N that the internet has dug up. They can’t get enough of her.”

“Her ass, specifically,” Jadah adds, and you shake your head. 

“I think what they’re trying to say is that maybe you should redirect your focus on fashion and hair choices vs public perception, because it seems to be in your favor currently.” Bianca’s advice is wise and on time. It also is very much giving off teacher vibes, just another thing you two can connect on.  

You’re really happy you asked her to come visit you. 

That you gave her a chance.

It’s proving to be a really good decision.

“Well, I’m gonna have my mom do my silk press while I’m there, so there’s that.” Typically, you avoid heat like the plague, sucking up the pain in the ass wash days to keep your curls hydrated and thriving. However, you’re okay with every now and then sitting in that damn chair for what feels like, and is, hours for these special occasions. And attending the Hall of Fame awards as well as WrestleMania definitely constitutes a special moment. “As far as fashion…..I have no idea. I don’t really have a lot of fancy clothes, and the ones I do have are before Callie and even now with the weight I’ve gained from this pregnancy already, I don’t know if I can still wear them.”

“Well then it’s obvious what we need to do.” Alexis says with a ‘duh’ tone. “We need to go find you some dresses! Like, today.”

“I probably do need to pick up something too.” Kaylah says with a heavy sigh. “I think Josh said something about wearing red.”

“Of course you have to wear red. That’s Bloodline colors.” 

You chuckle at Bianca’s enthusiasm. It’s kinda cool that she’s also into wrestling. You’re so tempted to ask Joe if he can get tickets for her, Darius, and Taylor, but you also don’t want to do too much. It already means a lot to you that he got tickets for your mom and Alexis. 

“I hate to pull the girls from their playing. They must be having a blast considering not one has come down in like over an hour.” It’s true. Not to mention you can also occasionally hear the chorus of giggles and shouting indicating just how great a time they’re having.

“I can watch them for ya’ll.”Jadah’s suggestion causes all sets of eyes to land on her. She rolls her eyes. “You all go get the shopping done, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Jadah, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’m not really that big on shopping anyway.” Finally. A difference between her and Alexis. “Plus, I have some client stuff I can get caught up with.”

You’re still reluctant, offering her another out. “If you’re sure….”

“Y/N, I would hope by now you’ve figured out I’m too blunt to lie. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” Jadah shrugs, directing her next statement to Kaylah and Bianca. “If you’re also good with it too, of course.”

Bianca and Kaylah echo agreement with you, hence it being decided.

With a chuckle, you announce, “I guess we’re going shopping.”

———-

Things have been hard since you first landed back in your hometown.

Saying goodbye to your students was hard. 

Saying goodbye to friends in town has been hard. 

Bidding farewell to the apartment you first brought your sweet little girl home to after she was born was very hard.

Visiting your grandma’s grave one last time for who knows how long…..that’ll be brutal.

But this….confronting your father for the last time…

To say you’re a bit on the anxious side is putting it nicely. 

This was always going to be on the nerve inducing side for a variety of good and valid reasons. It’s just getting to the moment where it happens, where you sit in the parking lot of the restaurant he agreed to meet “you” at is just bringing out some indecision you’re certain comes from a place of anxiety.

Finally stepping out of the car, you and Bianca reach the door of the restaurant when she turns to you, mouth turned into a bit of a frown as she reminds, “you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. It’s about what I need to do, Bianca.” It’s the truth. This isn’t something you’ve been dying to have happen your entire life, but for the sake of your healing, it’s what needs to happen. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, I totally get—”

“Not at all.” She reaches for your hand. “You’ve got this.”

A deep breath followed by a head nod as you accept her hand. She gives you a little squeeze and opens the door, leading the way figuratively and literally. As expected, he’s already there and waiting, sitting near the back of the restaurant. You’re not surprised a man like him is right on time. He seems like the punctual bastard type.

And Bianca has reiterated as such before. 

Together, you walk hand in hand towards him. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he lights up with a genuine smile at seeing Bianca, but that smile almost instantly drops when he sets his gaze on you.

Expected. 

Wholly expected.

Immediately, his nose is turned up in visible disgust, primarily directed toward you. “Bianca, what is the meaning of this?”

“What?” Her voice is full of nonchalance as is the expression on her face. “I told you your daughter wanted to speak with you.”

He just didn’t know which daughter.

There’s no denying or misunderstanding his anger at the subterfuge. He shoots up from the table. “I’m not putting up with—”

Bianca is quick with it, assertively informing him, “if you want even a chance of seeing Taylor again, you’re gonna sit right back down and hear her out.” It means the world to you that not only has Bianca agreed to be here with you today, but it’s the fact that she’s willing to be so loyal to you.

Like a sister.

Because she is your sister. 

He scoffs almost immediately. “Using my grandchild to blackmail me? That’s low, Bianca. Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

She crosses her arms and matches his energy. “You are the last person that needs to be talking about raising anyone.” She then looks at you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I’ll be right over there if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, she gives you one last supportive squeeze and ignores her father to walk over and slide into a booth across the room. 

Left alone, you watch him begrudgingly sit down so he’s across from you, same set of brown eyes locking. It kills you how much of yourself you can see in him, starting with the same set of eyes. You just have to remind yourself that that’s where the similarities end. 

“This won’t take long, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree, not that it makes much of a difference to you. At all. “I’m moving from this town. Tomorrow’s the day I hand over my keys, and I’ll officially be living in Florida full time. Not that you care, because we both know you never have and never will give a flying fuck about me.”

“Is there a point to this?” The edge in his voice, maybe even a couple months ago, might have killed you. Stolen your joy. Now, it does nothing. He no longer has that power over you, because you’ve taken that power back. 

And it feels so damn good.

“I did it, you know.” Without giving him a chance, if he even would, to respond, you continue. “I made something of myself. I’m successful. I have a career. I found love all without you ever doing a goddamn thing for me.”

For a second, you swear you see a different emotion flash in his familiar irises, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced with that permanent disdain you refuse to allow sway you from your goal.

“I have a man who loves me in every single healthy way that exists, who loves our daughter more than there are words in all the languages put together.” Emotion chokes you up, but you manage to stick with the mental points you made for this conversation. “And you wanna know something? We conceived her when he was still married.”

Leaning forward as you lower your voice, both for privacy and emotionality. “But, I didn’t tell him. I deprived him and our little girl for the first almost five years of her life because I was so scared that he was going to be like you, that he was going to reject her and hurt her the way you hurt me.”

It’s a bit painful for you to verbalize those words, but also so damn liberating to free them from the confines of your subconscious.

To also release those shackles they had on you. 

“But, I was so so so wrong, because he is the best damn dad she could have asked for, and he was angry with me for not telling him about her. He wanted to be in her life. He wanted her. And it’s through that I finally realized something.”

Your voice cracks as you finally release your truth and acknowledge freedom from over 30 years of emotional bondage.

“I’ve finally realized after all these years that it’s not that I’m not good enough for you.” You shake your head, pointing at him with all the intention and determination you can muster up. “You’re not good enough for me. Not good enough to be my dad. Definitely not good enough to be a grandfather to my kids. Not good enough to be in my life.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or a stutter in your voice. “It’s not that I don’t deserve to be in your life. You don’t deserve to be in mine. You never did, and you never will.”

And never again will you seek out that love and validation from him. You don’t need it. 

You never did.

“I actually feel sorry for you, because I am an amazing, strong black woman who was raised by an even more amazing, strong black woman who was also raised by a phenomenal black woman. And my daughter….” Just thinking about Callie, her warm smile and the great big hug she gave you, before you and Bianca left her and Taylor with your mom, makes you all choked up again. “—is the kindest, sweetest, smartest kid you could ever meet. But as long as there is breath in my body, you will not know her or any other kids I bring into this world.”

That’s a promise, an oath, a swear on everything that you love and hold dear.

“After today, you are dead to me, and I truly hope you one day see all that you missed out on, but I’m not going to wait around for that. I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded with love and family because that’s what I deserve.” Grabbing your purse and sliding out the booth, you make eye contact with Bianca who starts to head over. “Take care, Captain Wilson.”

As soon as she’s at your side, he shoots up from the booth. “Bianca, if you leave with that girl—”

“That woman,” Bianca corrects with all the sharpness. “You mean my sister?”

His lips turn up with a hateful snarl. “This hoodrat trash is not your sister.”

You actually laugh at his words, laugh at the fact that he’s truly so pathetic and a piece of shit he couldn’t even take any of what you just said to heart. It also makes you wonder if he’s aware of all the shit that’s been happening online regarding you. Not that it makes a difference.

It’s just something else he would try to use to justify not being in your life.

Like a coward.

“No.” She lifts her chin, taking your hand. “She is my sister, but you?” Bianca shakes her head, and you can hear the emotion catch in her voice. “You’re not my father. You’re the trash.”

If he offers a visible response to her harsh words, you’ll never know because Bianca tugs on your hand, directing the both of you to turn around as she marches you out the restaurant. Once out of the vicinity, she spins you around and brings you in for a big, loving hug.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” Eyes closing, you accept and lean into her embrace. You’re also insanely proud of you. “You said what you had to say. The ball is in his court now.”

“I highly doubt he’s gonna do anything with it.” Separating, you again thank her. “I really appreciate you being here with me today. I’m not sure Joe would have been okay with me doing this, if you weren’t here.”

She smirks, head tilted to the side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, hun.”

It’s the truth. Along with the fact that you’re not even sure you would and even could have gone through with this if not for her assistance and support. It’s crazy how the people you’ve met in recent months have become such important figures in your life and the people you thought were important are now strangers.

Life….always a wild ride, for sure.

“And speaking of Joe….” She’s understandably confused as you casually throw out, “guess who’s going to WrestleMania with her little sister?”

Bianca’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” Laughing, you nod. “Oh my god—” She captures you in another big hug, the two of you nearly hopping like damn teenagers. “Wait, just me or—”

“Of course not. Taylor and Darius too. I feel like he might divorce your ass if you tried to go without him.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Her laughter lessens as she looks at you with admiration and appreciation. “You really didn’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” And it wasn’t. After biting the bullet and pushing aside unnecessary anxiety, you just shot Joe a text asking if there was any way Bianca and her family could attend Mania. His response was an almost instant yes. “Besides….we’re sisters.” Your eyes begin to water as you give a one shoulder shrug. “We look out for each other.”

Her smile matches the emotionality of this moment. “You’re damn right we do.” Sniffling, she wipes her eyes and then gasps. “Shit, now I need to find a dress. Does this town have any stores where I could maybe find something?”

Her question is so laughable. “Not really, sis. Let’s just wait till we fly home. I’m sure we could find you something there. Maybe the boutique where I got my dresses."

Home…..

You’re not sure if you’ve referred to Florida as home prior to this moment, but it feels so good, so right. Like it’s where you’re supposed to be. Where you were always supposed to be. 

Home with your daughter, with your man, with the baby growing inside you.

With your family.

[r11yh1soka]

SATORU GOJO X READER

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

18+ MDNI, f reader, forbidden romance, coworkers, jjk world, needy satoru, smut,older satoru/slightly younger reader, oral(fem recieving) ,not proofread

"Just let me in, Principal Yaga said this was top priority." Satoru insisted with a shrug.

Your hand was on the cold metal doorknob of your apartment, you we're innaproprriately dressed to discuss work matters. You weren't expecting anyone and he rung your doorbell while you we're in the bath so you threw on clothes without thinking twice. You stood behind the door, hiding your body with it, in tight black shorts and a white tank top. You had no time to put on a bra nor did you when you were just lounging about your apart like your plans to do were before he showed up.

"Is there something you're hiding in there you don't want me to see, hm?" he hummed while trying to peek his head inside and you couldn't think of a lie fast enough before the silence got suspicious.

"Fine." you grumbled and stepped back to open the door, at this point you though a top priority project would just shift all the attention from what you were wearing.

You let him inside and he looked around your apartment while entering before you closed the door behind him and locked it. He was holding a folder in his hands, you walked over to your living room and he followed you to it, while your work day was done, he was still in his work uniform. You took a seat on the couch and he did the same, he sat rather close to you but then again you we're overanalyzing everything ecause of how you we're dressed in front of a coworker of all people.

Especially that coworker who you often found yourself admiring, but that's as far as you ever let it go. It may have no been explicitlity stated but he was esentially your superior, he'd worked for much longer than you...this job was rather new for you and you weren't going to ruin it with your own foolish desires.

"Here. The ones highlighted blue are the area's you and I will have to search and patrol tomorrow," he informed calmly, pointing to the points circled blue in the opened folder in his hand.

You leaned over a bit closer to see properly and you nodded your head as he dragged his finger, moving to another page with another location you'd have to search.

"Wait...together? Normally he sends me alone." you pointed out and Satoru gave a playful chuckle.

"Don't worry, you haven't done anything wrong but there could be a special grade curse here so I need to come with you. Unless you believe you can handle it all on your own, then by all means-"

"No...no, I was just asking. I just didn't know if I made a mistake or something," you interrupted and he grinned a little with a slow nod.

"Is "Miss Perfect" worried about not keeping her perfect reputation?" Satoru cooed, tilting his head a little to the side while taunting you.

"Don't call me that...I'm not perfect and there's nothing wrong with not wanting to make mistakes." you defended and he just continued to look at you with a little grin, which wasn't unusual.

What was unusual was his eyes darting elsewhere, downward. You thought you we're just imagining things for a moment but when he gaze lingered over your breasts, your hardened nipples, simply because you had the air on, you froze up. You gulped and his eyes moved back up to yours.

"Do you normally dress like this in front of your coworkers or am I special?" He inquired and slowly shut the folder, watching as you got all hot and flustered.

"No! I was in the bath when you rang the doorbell and I just grabbed whatever!" You insisted, feeling the need to overexplain yourself already but he only found your worry amusing.

"You get so nervous about making mistakes, it must be stressful for you." he points out, it wasn't what you we're expecting to hear but it was better than him contiuing to taunt you.

"It is. That's why I was in the bath on a friday night," you scoffed jokingly and he leaned forward and set the folder down on the coffee table in front of you both.

"But I interrupted your bath...so you must still be tense," he hummed while looking at you and you felt somewhat intimidtaed by his gaze all of a sudden.

"No...I mean, a little but it's fine." you breathed and darted your eyes over to the folder, " What else are we supposed to loo-?"

"And if I could relieve your stress for you?" he interrupted with not an ounce of teasing in his voice, he was dead serious.

"What...?What do you mean?" you stammered, gulping as you leaned back a little.

"What do you think I mean, sweetheart?" he replied, his eyes dropping from your eyes to your lips and back down to your nipples poking through your tanktop.

"I...I don't understand." you mumbled, you had an idea of what he was suggesting from how he was looking at your body but you didn't want to assume.

It was too risky, way too risky. But you didn't back away, you didn't tell him to stop staring at your breasts like he wanted to devour them...you could have told him to but you didn't.

"Come here and let me make it crystal clear for you." He nodded his head to the side, licking his bottom lip and sitting back into the couch.

Before you realized it, you looked down and saw his hand on your waist. You looked at his hand and back up at him, you made no effort to move it. You found it difficult to get any words out b ut when Satoru saw you fail to move his hand, he pulled you forward until you we're sitting on his lap. His hands we're so large and he strength made pulling you towards him seem like moving a feather with a blow of air. It all happened so fast, or maybe things were just moving slow around you, you did not know which.

His finger found it's way to your nipple, gently swirling around it. You looked down, taking a deep breath as the reality of it all hadn't settled. With his hand he cupped your breasts, flicking your nipple up with his thumb with a smirk on his face.

"Relax...I'll make you feel good, 'kay?" he assured you as his other hand began to slide up your shirt a little and you nodded your head in response.

He pulled up your shirt, revealing your bare breasts and hardened nipples, his grin got even bigger as he looked at you. Without missing a beat, his mouth latched onto your nipple and his hand massaged your other breast roughly, you let out a slight gasps from the sheer eagerness you felt from his mouth.

" 'toru...wait," you couldn't help but moan as he sucked harder, your hand fell to the back of his head where you kept his mouth on your breasts.

He was practically your boss and your nipple was in his mouth. You could feel his print hitting your thigh, you don't even know how you got here. He starts sucking harder, biting down and tugging at your nipple like he was starving for you. You couldn't hold back, your panting turned into soft moans that only made him more eager to devour you.

Your hips began to curl slightly, grinding forward against his leg and you didn't even mean to. It didn't feel like you we're in control of your own body, it was simple a reflex.

"That's it sweetheart...relax for me," he whispered, pulling his mouth away from your nipple and kissing up your neck.

He slid his hand up your body, pulling your shirt all the way up until he pulled it off and threw it on your living room floor. Your breasts were on full display for him, your own breathing quickened as you grinded against his thigh. You we're trying to reach your own pleasure in him. In all truth it had been long, way too long, since you last had sex. Satoru was hitting every bit of relaxtion you needed while invoking a pleasure in you that you hadn't felt in months.

"Sit on my face for me?" He blurted out, looking into those beautiful eyes of yours with a need only you could satisfy.

You weren't even hesitant anymore, you nodded your head and smiled with satisfaction. He moved you himself, he laid back on the couch and when you pulled your shorts off with a quickness, he practiclly yanked you onto his face. The pure escatasy you felt when his tongue glided between your folds, it was as if every ounce of stress fled your body all at once. You used one hand to hold yourself steady on the arm of the couch and the other you had rustiling in his hair.

"Fuck...keep going," you whispered, moaning right after.

You could hear a zipper of some sort, you turned your head and looked over your shoulder to find Satoru pulling his dick out from his boxers and stroking himself. You found yourself smirking at the sight, looking back for a moment as you took pleasure in his tongue inside you. You we're so wet you could hear the sounds of his mouth as he sucked, tugged, and glided his tongue along your wet cunt. He needed this just as badly as you did.

That was all the sign you needed to feel complete and utter relaxation.

You grinded your hips against his mouth, allowing his tongue to reach spots he didn't reach before. He stroked faster, he groaned in response to the motion of your hips against his tongue. Your hips bucked faster then you thought you would, you tilted your head back with your hands pulling at his hair and you let out a whine, louder then you may have liked. You could feel the relaxation taking hold of your pleasure and allowing you to relax a little too much. You were reaching your climax faster than you ever have before. Satoru's tongue kept with the same pace, he looked up and watched as you found so much pleasure in just his tongue.

"Shit...'m cumming," you whimpered and Satoru sucked at your clit in response.

He licked up every single drop of cum you released, indulging in the taste and the wetness he found around his lips. You quenched a thirst he'd been in search for and he was fucking obsessed. You reached a high you'd longer for, your shoulder dropped in complete relaxation and you panted as you came down from the high. You slowly looked down at Satoru, the embarrasment of what you'd just done with your superior began to sink in as it was over.

But it was far from over for Satoru.

"Don't look at me with a pout like that...we're not done. Don't worry,"

[toeskater91]

Stobotnik Fic Recs

For a moment of positivity and sharing, see below for 10 Stobotnik Fic recs.

No fics in this post relate to the Sonic 3 movie.

Please make sure to take note of the tags and ratings if you click through to AO3 to ensure full positive curation of your reading experience. The recommendations vary from General up through Explicit ratings.

Doctor Robotnik makes good on his promise of being home by Christmas - it just took a little longer than expected, and home turned out to be someplace he hadn't considered.

Post Sonic 1 movie fic and Christmas/Holiday themed! I adore this one so much, I've re-read it so many times. The Doctor makes his way back to earth slightly before Christmas and ends up on Stone's new doorstep. The mortifying ordeal of being dependent on your former Agent and navigating how to handle the joy and boundaries of your boss you've greatly missed unexpectedly returning.

"I was actually happy when I found out what had happened to you. I looked you up against my better judgment, fully expecting you to have moved on immediately. Agent Stone, consummate professional, busy making lattes for some other genius." Stone snorted. "My number one attribute, huh?" "You know it. Only reason I kept you around," Robotnik said quietly.

Post Sonic 1 movie fic. Stone ends up imprisoned and Robotnik makes his way back to Earth with a side of rescue. I adore this one a whole lot and the Stone POV throughout is gorgeous.

You have that fanfic or series that takes a passing fandom interest and then once you read it, that interest is now stuck in your brain forever because of how profound an impact it had on you? That's this series and why my Stobotnik spiral really went into play.

It starts pre-film canon and goes through both both Sonic 1 and Sonic 2, then creates its own path for post Sonic 2. It provides such in-depth characterization and growth to both Stone and Robotnik as people and their relationship, its beyond amazing, especially how it weaves into the films as well. Total series is 286k words and my god, it is so, so, so, so, so worth the read. And the 16 parts allow for pacing and breaks.

The Doctor works himself to pieces each time he completes a project. His Agent puts him back together. A reflection on the creation-destruction process, homemade bread, and the intricate rituals of it all. (a.k.a. take an allegory, beat it dead.)

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. Do you have that fic, that after you read makes you just sit there because of how profound and deep it hit you in your core? That you just sit there in wondered silence as you try and wrap your brain around it? That's this fic, the amount of pieces from the various chapters I want to quote and keep with me forever. The codependency between these two tied into the creative process of the doctor and its aftermath, beyond amazing.

In the process of removing the master emerald from Robotnik, Knuckles and Tails accidentally knock it into Stone's orbit. Or - in which Stone gets a turn with the emerald after Robotnik, and the two them have some time to chew the scenery (and also take out so many G.U.N. goons), because we deserved to see them fight side-by-side longer.

Sonic 2 canon divergence, Stone gets to take a spin with the emerald. Love to see our Agent get a turn to be awesome and deadly.

Before he even met Doctor Robotnik, Agent Stone understood the undeniable rules of being his, and truly, he was his. There was a sense of belonging that came with being around the Doctor as a whole, and it was not one of compassion or comfort like one may feel in a domestic partnership. No, from the briefing he had been given on Robotnik, Stone understood that he would no longer be property of the government once he was assigned to him. Instead, he would be Robotnik’s and Robotnik’s alone, no longer his own, yet nothing to Robotnik either. To the Doctor, he was an object to use and dispose of as he saw fit, and most days, even less. That was rule one.

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. This fic has amazing pacing and growth. Starts with Stone beginning to work for the Doctor and how they change and grow as his time in this role extends on. This is a beautiful fic that I've given several re-reads. This has some amazing banter and attitude from them both.

Robotnik's very first romantic attachment left him bruised and apathetic towards the concept as a whole, warping his own perception of what it means to take part in any kind of emotional relationship. Thirty years later, he takes a chance on Agent Stone who, with patient hands and raw physical attraction, slowly coaxes Robotnik out of his cybernetic shell and into a whole new world of surprisingly mundane exchanges. Or: that one series where they date like normal people rather than the top secret government assets that they are while making a mockery of the entire country.

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. I adore this series and how the author portrays Stone and Robotnik. How they growt throughout their relationship and the way they communicate and play off each other is wonderful. Part 5 is Christmas/holiday themed as well.

This is about a lot of things. This is about names and what they mean, this is about the weight of inheritance, this is about bakeries and newspapers and coffee. About homes and lawns and demolished grain silos. This is about a building in Northwest Oregon. This is about Robotnik. This is about Stone. Alone together. or: in less flowery language, its a series of snapshots of robotnik's lab across the years. the way robotnik used to be very alone in it, and the way he eventually wasn't.

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. This is such a uniquely structured fic, bouncing through multiple times and building the history of the land where the lab that the Doctor works in will / does stand and how they come to work together

Stone's primary objective in life is to keep Robotnik safe and alive, at any cost. Time to find out what the universe is charging him.

Sonic 2 fic with Canon Divergence. Time travel and loops where Stone is determined to ensure the doctor is safe and he can protect him. The time loops and travels are done in such an amazing way as Stone keeps trying, trying, trying. Has a happy ending.

A Doctor for Christmas: The (Not A Hallmark Movie) by EmperorHaruhi

When (former) Canadian hockey player Aban Stone and (current) German Doctor Ivo Robotnik are trapped together in the town of Green Hills, Montana, three days before Christmas by an ice storm, the pair butt heads almost immediately. Can Stone melt the doctor's icy exterior and find the man lurking within? Will Robotnik discover Stone's dark secret, and how will he react? This Christmas, the Hallmark channel (does not) present: A Doctor For Christmas - An international, multi-lingual rom-com for the ages.

Hallmark movie Alternate Universe (AU) fic. This one is beautiful and such a fun spin on these two meeting as strangers thanks to the airlines being struck by the effects of winter weather.

[idyat]

Hi hello 👋👋

Can you write some hcs for the main 4 +Jebus with a reader that flinches?

(If that's too much then just Hank is fine :3 )

Love your writing too! It is very pleasant to read :D

Soooo sorry for how long this took. And thank you so much!

Main 4 + Jebus x Flinchy reader headcanons

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

Hank:

-Nobody would be surprised by the fact that Hank can be very brash, and that therefore he makes people flinch a lot. It actually took them a bit of time to realize how often you do it because of this, and because they don't pay much attention to people until it's for a fight or he starts caring about them.

-If you start staring at eachother, expect them to suddenly brings their head forward just to get a laugh out of your flinching. Unless you don't like it. Then he'll stop immediately.

-They can be surprisingly gentle with you afterwards. The best murderer of Nevada should know how to handle as many situations as possibly after all.

-Believe it or not, he flinches a lot too! This is both because he has to be on constant alert and because his torn and battered body often just fails him. It's a little annoying when he's in the middle of a fight and his legs forget how to walk and he gets pummeled with bullets, but we digress.

-If it can be done, they'll try to help you control your flinching a little better. Especially if it happens during dangerous situations or combat, as that is his area of expertise. Maybe you could return the favour! Especially if you've dealt with this longer than he has.

-If the situation could suggest it, he checks for any potential hostile everytime you flinch. Or, they check if you are okay. A little hyperbolic? Maybe, but he takes every little thing about you seriously, including your flinching.

-He'll probably sneak up on you by accident a few times after rewiring his brain to be on ninja mode all the time.

SANFORD:

-Hopefully you're not too flinchy at loud noises, because Sanford has a few volume control issues with his voice. (If you don't get what I mean, listen to his Madness: Project Nexus voice lines.)

-And with the bombs and rapidly flying hook... Yeah, the poor guy is trying his damndest to be gentle, and he is failing.

-He's a bit of a worrywart when it comes to you, so expect a lot of apologies whenever he swings his arm a little too quick and fast or starts yelling suddenly.

-You'll probably have to reassure him if it isn't that big of a deal. Being himself is nothing to apologize about!

-He's also a bit concerned if this can happen when you're fighting or running away from something. He knows from experience that the slightest movement can mean life, death or severe injury in some situations. At least he's usually not far behind to take the hits or kill the threat.

-Sometimes he mildly startles you and chuckles. He likes the face you make when he does that.

DEIMOS:

-Another one who loooves to startle you just for the fun of it. And another one who'll stop if you ask him to. But if you're okay with it, expect him to hug you from behind with a "BOO!" and a giggle. (Then again, he'd do this whether or not you flinch at it.)

-He both likes to be annoying and is a little dumb. He'd ask you shit like "so do you flinch EXTRA when you pull back the measuring tape?" unironically and think he's hot shit who's sooo good at teasing you.

-"Does it work like a radar or something?"

"A what?"

"Like, do you flinch without knowing and that tells you if there's something nearby?"

"...Sometimes I flinch without realizing it."

"Yeah, now that I think about it... was a pretty stupid question."

"Didn't think before asking, hm?"

"I don't think a lot."

-Outside of his teasing, he's not likely to make any sudden movements or sounds, and will apologize if he accidentally startles you.

-He's very gentle when that happens. His voice is soft and raspy and his arms wrap so carefully around you. He doesn't actually take it that seriously if he can see you're fine, but he adores when he can be cute and romantic with you. And you probably like it too.

2BDAMNED:

-Doc noticed your common flinching whilst analizing you for whatever it is you do. Peaked his curiosity a little.

-He's one of the only two who actually thinks about asking if you have any idea why it happens, common flinch triggers, if there is a reason did it come with anything else he can help with, etc. He's very meticulous when he asks you.

-If your occupations aren't that dangerous, then he won't mind it; however if you often find yourself in danger, then he will eventually express a bit of concern, especially if you've had problems with it before. While he doesn't fight much himself, he may butt in a little, which could make for some bonding time.

-2B is very slow, so you won't find yourself flinching because of him... Unless you accompany him in operating his strange machinery. Only he truly understands those things.

-He'll often ask you if you're okay after he sees you get startled, and you may notice how closely he looks at or even how precisely he rubs the part of you he saw drop. While it may not be obvious at first, he cares about you so much and loves to observe every little detail about you

JEBUS:

-He will also ask if you know where it comes from. However he won't really try to suggest reducing the flinching, as he thinks you do well enough on your own.

-What he will do however, is gifting you a whole lot of armour and weapons "just in case". (He is indeed worried, but has a hard time expressing it.)

-Although he doesn't really make any brash noises or moves himself, trust that anytime he catches somebody making you flinch, he WILL get grumpy and protective. Even if you assure him it's no problem yourself, he'll be glaring daggers at them until they're out of the room.

-If there ever in an incident where he startles you, it probably would be while he's having a burst of anger. It would take a moment for him to realize and calm down.

-Once he does, you'll see him try to express his guilt and affection the best he can. There are not a lot of people he's genuinely cared about besides you, he doesn't want to snap and burden somebody else with himself.

-Bodyguard! As said earlier, if he was protective of you before, he is VERY protective now.

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

Sorry that 2B and Jebus' sections are a little shorter. At least Hank got a bonus 7th line.

[feathered-mushrooms]

Scott Summers ahead Cannons

he is my favorite loser boy

Due to growing up on it, Scott tends to throw himself into the danger room whenever he feels an emotion more than fine. He does not know a limit, which his led to “Scott patrol”. Oh Scott hasn’t left the danger room for five hours? Rouge it’s your turn, I pulled him out last time. 

Scott can’t handle to much down time, or being bored. He constantly feels like there is something he should be doing, and therefore will constantly find something to do. 

Charles has done a number on him. He is the reason Scott is so high strung, why failure isn’t just a lesson to learn from but an entire judgement of his character, why he can’t just breathe. He needs to be the leader and the man everyone can count on, he needs to be everything Charles wants him to be. 

This is not a healthy way of thinking. 

Scott has a special interest in planes. It started when he was young and then had a pause after the plane crash that killed his parents. However he picked it up again and now can tell you the difference between a commercial flight and a jet. He also knows how to pilot seven different types of aircraft and even got official license for each.

He is Bi.

It took him frighteningly long to figure this out. 

Scott has issues with social skills(projecting). He can speak sarcasm just fine and makes many jokes in that medium. However he has a hard time figuring out people are being sarcastic, especially if the joke is around him. 

He would wear a dress. Not in public, but if Jean offered he would try one of her dresses on in the safety of a bed room. He would like it. 

Game nights were originally hidden from Scott who(due to the professors absurdly high expectations) does not handle losing well. He loves to point out the rules and technicality’s, and will not play Uno with any variations. He’s not a sore loser par say, it just gets depressing for everyone watching. 

When he was young he kept only one pair of ruby glasses and one visor. As he has aged(and been influenced by Emma) he know has a collection of ruby glasses in all types and styles. 

Star Wars is his comfort show/movie/universe

Pretty equal on cats and dogs but leans towards dogs. 

His chances of being a toddler dad had been pretty ruined but he thinks it would be nice to raise a kid alongside a dog. Maybe a golden retriever. 

He does not mind cats though. 

He often feels weird in his place as a parent. Nathan is his kid but some much time has been lost that Scott can’t help but yearn for the mile stones that were missed and lost to time. He misses everything he was promised as a father. The same is true for Rachel although it is a little weirder. Yes she is his, but from a future that will never happen. He often feels guilty because in the end he has two great kids, but he wishes he could raise a kid in a normal sense. 

He just wants to be a father. 

When he was their step father, Scott showed the Cuckoos Star Wars. He keeps checking in on them, even after he and Emma are no longer together. 

Scott’s type is a person who will be mean to him, and could probably kill him, but have a soft spot.

Even if that soft spot is very hidden. 

He can make a really good grilled cheese. There was a week in his teens were there was low x-men activities and not a lot to do in the mansion so he dedicated his days to perfecting the grilled cheese. He makes it anytime he thinks someone needs some comfort. 

He’s eyes are brown under the visor. 

Never played DnD but very interested in it. Researched it a whole lot and has watched a lot of play throughs. Has even mentioned it to the rest of the squad and most were down to try. However it was forgotten due to the next world ending event. Scott still thinks about it and the character he made. 

He is doing his best but often over exerts himself which leads to sick days. On these days he is forced to cuddle up in a blanket and watches either the Star Wars orignal movies or one of the shows. Most times someone will be designated to sit with him so he doesn’t try and get up and do work. 

On these days Logan often takes the job. 

That all for now!

[blueorchid-95]

something random I was thinking about but. There are Lore Implications in the Reginald Mimic Mask

In Operation Stage Fright, the handler distantly recognizes the Fabricator’s voice after she gives her first instructions to you. Once you get to the combat bit, Reginald fully recognizes her and identifies her order to kill you as “not an idle threat”, meaning he’s likely had experience with her while he was a field agent—and considering his concern, it wasn’t a good one. It’s also worth noting that she’s the only one of Zor’s henchmen that he’s genuinely afraid of in the main games—he doesn’t react to Hivemind or Caliente, and most other Zoraxis employees don’t get much of a reaction from him, like the Zoraxis defector during the train operation. (Note: these examples are all from the first I Expect You To Die game, where he is actively keeping himself emotionally distant from the agent.)

Later, during Operation Jet Set, Juniper claims that the plan has been “years in the making”, which tells us he’s been working with Zoraxis for quite a while. The plan he’s referring to seems to be the airplane traps, but that seems too small-scale to be worth so much credit, especially with the nuclear codes plan going on behind the scenes. It’s worth noting that this plan would also probably never work again: the agent’s death/disappearance would warn the Agency of Juniper’s alliance and they would take extra care when arranging transportation for the remaining agents to avoid a repeat incident.

This brings up a new question: What plan was Juniper referring to? What necessitated our death on that plane?

The nuclear codes, of course. The Fabricator can’t make a mask of such intricacy in such a short time, after all. Nobody could. I’ll admit that the world of I Expect You To Die is a little less than realistic (looks over shoulder at Agent Phoenix standing directly above boiling lava in Operation KBOOM) but between the sheer amount of masks and other relevant tech she’s made for the operation (the Citizen’s Arrest device, the snack cart on the airplane), there’s no way this would have been a fast-moving op.

So, with this in mind, it’s easy to assume this plan was in its preparation phase for many years until the week Agent Phoenix sends it all down the drain. Since it was so slow-moving, I can imagine Dr. Zor trying other things in the interim to keep the Agency from finding out too much—the Death Engine, for example. Something like that could also be used to support their regime once the long plan is through, and likely took just as long to make because it is another incredibly intricate project.

But I’m getting off track. Even with all of these important plans and many, MANY pieces of technology to create, the Fabricator still has a mask styled after the Handler, seemingly made only to fool an agent that nobody in Zoraxis thought they’d have to deal with again. Considering the time span of The Spy And The Liar against the sheer amount of projects she was handling, it is physically impossible for her to have made the Handler’s Mimic Mask. She can’t have just programmed it in to the original mask, because the game implies that there’s a separate mask for each world leader. After all, the Fabricator still has a mask stored in her desk despite sending one to Juniper already, and it wouldn’t make sense to keep passing the mask back and forth between imitations—plus, if Juniper has to have the Fabricator alter the mask every time he acts as a world leader (the only reason I could identify as to why he’d give it back to her after getting it) the plot would take much longer than it actually does because of the finicky technology that would need to be reworked each time. Plus, why the heck would Juniper give a functioning mask with all four relevant leaders back to the Fabricator? There’s nothing to be improved there, and even if she wanted to there’s no possible way she could add the Handler’s face and voice so perfectly in under four days, regardless of whether or not she already knew him. Not to mention that she seems to be a bit of a perfectionist, focusing on making the entire mask as perfect as she can—down to the smallest wrinkle. Therefore, I believe that all four world leader masks and the Handler mask are separate pieces.

So now we’re hit with the big questions: What, exactly, does the Handler have to do with any of this? Why did the Fabricator make a mask of him?

I believe that the two of them crossed paths when Reginald was an active field agent. There’s no way to know what happened between them, but whatever occurred prevented either of them from forgetting the other.

Perhaps, the Reginald Mimic Mask was made as a failsafe. In case the Agency managed to get ahold of the nuclear briefcase, Juniper could don the mask and infiltrate agency headquarters to retrieve it with very little question. But then Reginald became a handler, and the mask became essentially useless—if Reginald wasn’t out on the field, it would be near impossible to mimic him and get away with it. So, the mask sits in the Fabricator’s desk, forgotten and pointless—but then Agent Phoenix comes back from the dead.

How would the Fabricator have known Reginald was involved? Easy. The Masque of the Red Death. He explicitly tells us that he managed to “snag a ticket to the show”, so he’s sitting in the audience. Considering that the Fabricator is likely acting as the technical director or a similar backstage role, it’s not impossible to believe she could have seen him. However, her lack of reaction implies she doesn’t see him as a threat, so she fails to take action concerning him and his agent until she’s discovered that the agent is responsible for the destruction of the Death Engine.

If we subscribe to the theory that there’s five Mimic Masks instead of just the one, then the mask we encounter in Operation Eaves Drop is one that’s been sitting in storage, unused, in years. The Fabricator likely gave it to Juniper during Operation Party Crasher, and he retreated to his office to practice the new role after spending time with the guests. The mask we send up to him is likely the new world leader mask mentioned in Operation Jet Set.

This accounts for several factors. Juniper’s had years to practice and prepare to act as all of the world leaders, but he’s had hours at most to prepare for his role as the agent’s Handler. Therefore, when he needs to deceive the agent, his acting isn’t on point. He’s got all of the world leaders down, but he’s never even heard Reginald speak (unless you count the phone call that starts off the Operation Jet Set song on the soundtrack, and even then that isn’t much). He knows nothing but what the Fabricator tells him, and all of that information is from when the Handler was a field agent, since that’s the last time she had contact with him.

In contrast, though, I think the Agency set was built around the time Reginald was a field agent. Why? Simple: it was built for our handler, not us. If Juniper was going to retrieve the briefcase by imitating a certain agent, he’d need that specific agent to be out of the way first, stored away for an indefinite amount of time. So, build a small set to make him think he’s still at the Agency, and keep him there. If he discovers the illusion, use the citizen’s arrest device to keep him nice and imprisoned. That explains why there’s Zoraxis equipment in the locked drawer—Juniper forgot he left it there after so many years, likely only remembering when Agent Phoenix reached for the drawer. While the rest of Juniper’s set saw use as he practiced his roles (which incidentally also accounts for why the Zoraxis emblem is still polished if the set is years old—he’d need to clean it any time he wished to rehearse with it, which would probably be often during The Spy and the Liar considering how the plan is coming into play), he would have very little reason to maintain the Agency set—which explains why it’s so poorly designed. I mean, the logo falls off the wall with incredible ease, and we’re being given an agency meal in the medical wing, of all places. Juniper didn’t anticipate having to use it in the long run, since that set wasn’t designed for us.

Summarized, here’s our main takeaways from this:

Reginald must have been one hell of a field agent, since the Fabricator saw fit to make a Mimic Mask of him.

Whatever encounter Reginald had with the Fabricator likely proved decently traumatic for him. She seems unbothered by it.

The Handler Mimic Mask likely doesn’t look exactly like Reginald, because of the time difference. The Fabricator may have estimated how the Handler would look when he’s older to fit with the timetable, but human biology doesn’t always work how we want it to.

Overall, the fact that the Fabricator had a mask of Reginald’s face ready has allowed us to set several basic events on a timeline that makes relative sense.

I apologize for the wall of text. Thank you for reading though ^v^

[syndrossi]

Back with more dragon lore:

How much hatchling raising is done older dragons? (Both ideally and in the current system that the Targs have if its different) Are they actually tended and cared for, or are they left to fend for themselves after a certain point? Because if the care Caraxes is showing now persists to teaching them, that could mean the two hatchlings are learning the war tricks of a veteran dragon while being projected as being absolutely huge...

Dadraxes: Humans can carry bent branchs that fling sharp splinters. They may not hurt your scales, but they can tear your wings and harm your human. What do we do to anything that hurts our human?

Qelebrys: Claw, fangs and fire.

Shadow: Char well before swallowing.

Dadraxes: those were both good answers. But remember, when diving towards an army, you always want to dive flame first. Now, what do we do when we pull out of a dive over an army?

*takes out Rhaegar's newly gifted books for transcribing dragon lore*

These days, I expect very little raising is done by the dragons themselves, with the Dragonkeepers filling the role of caretaker as well as guard. It's that thing where the more responsibilities your position has, the greater the job security / prestige, with the Dragonkeepers seizing more duties over the decades.

Whereas in the wild, they would be spending years with their parents. Since dragons are very large creatures with high caloric needs and a long lifespan, they need their parents for longer. I tend to have the maturity ranges for dragons at first year = infant/toddler, years 1-7 = child, 8-13 = teen, and 14+ = adult. They can technically be on their own probably sometime in childhood, since they'll be big enough in the wild to hunt for their own food, but they can still be preyed upon by other dragons.

In Valyria, I expect it was a balance. You want the hatchlings raised from birth to develop communication/cooperation skills with humans, but dragons are the best teachers for dragon skills: hunting, killing, navigating, etc. So they had that "co-parent" style model we've talking about before, where the mother's rider took on the role of the other parent.

Luke and Jace spend more time with their hatchlings than most, and Syrax being Rhaenyra's mount means that they get more time with their actual mother than other hatchlings in the pit do, which is helpful/healthy for Arrax and Vermax.

But Qelebrys and Shadow are getting a ton of parenting already from Caraxes, especially now that they're in the Red Keep's enclosure with him. Once they're big enough to keep up with him in the air, I can imagine the lessons really taking off. (And of course there is co-parenting from all three of Jon, Rhaegar, and Daemon.)

Squealing with pure joy at your General Dadraxes lesson, it's so cute! 🥰 And also practical! Because you're right, he has that valuable experience he gets to pass down to ensure that they don't lose their riders to thrown sticks, and that enemy humans protect themselves appropriately against the very LARGE pointy sticks they like to attack dragons with. And definitely to char before you swallow. *nod*

[carryoncastiel]

Dekarios-Ravengard

Word Count: 11,499

Rating: T

Relationship: Gale/Wyll, Lae'zel/Shadowheart (background), Dammon/Karlach (implied), Ulder Ravengard/Morena Dekarios (implied), Karlach & Wyll

Characters: Gale, Wyll, Ulder Ravengard, Morena Dekarios, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Lily Aurora Ravengard (mentioned), other characters mentioned

Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, dancing, drinking, expect general wedding activities, Grand Duke Wyll Ravengard, POV Wyll, POV Gale, if you don’t like nuance when it comes to Ulder Ravengard this fic is probably not for you, discussions of canon events, sorry to Gale’s dad if he’s alive in canon because he’s dead in this (check AO3 for full tag list)

Summary:

Wyll has to admit that despite his love of fairytale romances he never thought much about weddings before, much less about traditions attached to them. Being bound to a devil for what he thought would be eternity made the prospect of him finding and marrying the love of his life a seemingly unattainable dream.

Yet here he was, free of his pact, about to wed the man that he loves and looking forward to spending the rest of his life with him and a family of his own. Moreso, he gets to live in the city that even in exile he never stopped thinking of as home, working side by side with his father who for so long Wyll thought he’d never get a chance to reconcile with.

If his life was a story he couldn’t have asked for a better happily-ever-after.

IT IS DONE.

I still can’t believe it took me so freaking long to get here but the creative process is what it is and the important part is that this fic is finally finished! (also tbf to myself it got quite a bit longer than I anticipated...)

I'm very proud of it and especially happy with how the talk between Gale and Ulder turned out and that I got around to write the ladies at long last.

I really hope you enjoy reading this one and if you leave kudos and especially comments I will be forever grateful <3

[malfiora]

Characterization Compendium

Key

Star sign: (canon vs. inspiration) traits from that sign that fit with this character

Canon = this is the character's sign based off their official/generally accepted birthday

Inspiration = this is the sign that this character reminds me of, and here's why

Colors are based off the elements each sign could be:

Air • Water • Fire • Earth

Batfam

Bruce

Walks the razor's edge between light and dark and develops an unhealthy but necessary dependence on his kids (particularly Dick) to stay grounded in the light.

Loves his kids, loves being around them, will never say this to them unless he's on the brink of death but there are signs. Loves them all equally but treats them differently based on personality, age, and background, which is often mistaken as him playing favorites (it's not).

Immutable personal moral code but demonstrates mental flexibility (or cognitive dissonance) toward others, especially his allies.

I go back and forth between Catholic, Jewish, and agnostic for him.

Pisces: (canon) works well with any other sign, creative, deeply emotional and intuitive, hates being inauthentic, shuts down when hurt or slighted, nonconfrontational (in relationships not in the field lol – he'd rather ignore the problem than have a difficult conversation about it)

Dick

Extremely observant, which manifests as intuition. This means that both his deductive reasoning skills and ability to read others are par excellence. In social settings, he won't vocalize this process (depending on the context he may not even realize he's doing it) but will react to whatever he reads. Others read this as charm (or intimidation).

Talent for leadership despite working more efficiently alone. Both his charisma and experience make people naturally turn to him, and a deep seated compulsion to meet others' expectations means he often does take the lead.

Relationships: Barbara is one of his best friends before anything else; Jason is his (the one he gave the mantle of Robin to, the person who first shifted his identity toward mentor/big brother); Tim is the first he got to mentor; Damian is the son-brother (the one he raised and dotes on)

Scorpio: (canon? inspiration) [I will die on this hill] charismatic, manipulative, deeply and darkly emotional (some may say broody), fiercely protective of loved ones to the point of avenging them, holds grudges probably longer than he should, will lash out when hurt but feel bad about it

Barbara

Used to dealing with men who have strong feelings about everything (i.e. Dick and Bruce) and not being taken seriously (first year or so as Batgirl, then later dealing with people's perceptions of her while disabled) so nothing phases her. Still, she has some insecurities, which she overcomes with sheer force of will that projects strength. Ultimately, she'd rather suffer in silence.

Doesn't completely agree with all of Bruce's ideologies (leading to some friction between her and Dick), especially around killing since her father's a cop. But they align enough to be allies. She respects Bruce and believes in Batman.

Aquarius: (inspiration) Follows her own inner compass, pulls away the more someone tries to control her, enjoys engaging in mental exercises

Jason

As Robin, he was constantly caught in the tension of living up to Dick's example and wanting to be considered his own person. He always treated Robin with reverence and tried to do everything by the book. His own trauma and Bruce's guilt have convinced them both that Jason was a "problem" – he wasn't. He took school and his material comforts seriously because he never had them, so he was a tidy kid and a great student. Critical thinking skills that he honed from reading classic lit.

As Red Hood, he's now torn between living his own life/principles and begrudgingly wanting to regain Bruce's trust/faith if not his love. (He's never lost Bruce's love, but he has yet to accept this.)

When he came back to Gotham, he was pissed that his death seemed to change nothing: Joker was still alive, Batman had a new Robin, and crime was still everywhere. He took matters into his own hands. He still believes his way is better than Bruce's but recognizes that it's futile to pursue his vision with the Batfam still around. If he thinks he can get away with it, he'll kill someone he thinks deserves to be killed (e.g. someone who hurts children, sexual assault perp)

Leo: (canon) headstrong, charismatic leader who attracts people to him even if he doesn't try/want to/understand why, can be insecure about why people like him (are they just using him/wanting something from him, or so they genuinely like him?), protective of those closest to him, he'll talk a lot of shit but it actually takes a lot to provoke him to act, but when he does it's vicious and you'll feel like you deserved it

(Additional context)

Tim

Burnt out gifted kid who was adultified as a teenager because he had to basically raise an adult (i.e. help piece together again Bruce's mental health). Middle kid syndrome – used to being ignored and uses it to his advantage. Often manipulates (or tries to) the others to enact some plan. Pretty shameless

Knows a lot of random stuff because it's helpful for a case but kinda clueless about anything else, great at deductive reasoning. Lives to terrorize Dick (sometimes) and Jason (always), while genuinely trying to be a good big brother to Damian and Duke.

I usually envision Tim as middle/upper class east/southeast Asian, which comes with a few features: private tutors, attending a private or magnet school, expected to go to college; additionally, some cultural practices that Tim doesn't take too seriously since his family is multi-gen American. He def has a jade Buddha necklace somewhere at home.

Libra: (inspiration) rigid sense of justice and morality, good judge of character

Cassandra

Doesn't speak often, preferring to listen and use nonverbals. Has strong opinions about things. Protective of her adoptive family, enjoys participating in shenanigans if only because she's included.

I want to learn more about Cass and think harder about how I want to write her, doesn't stop me from trying.

Taurus: (inspiration) strong opinions that take a lot of energy to change, reliable, trustworthy, stoic

Steph

Keeps things lighthearted but doesn't forgive very easily. She and Bruce have a shaky relationship due to his (perceived) lack of trust in her but she keeps things positive due to her love and respect for Barbara, Cass, and Tim.

Extremely resourceful, solid investigative and deductive reasoning skills, dedicated to the mission, fiercely loyal but also independent.

It can't be overstated how much I respect Stephanie's ability to fill a role, on top of her creating her own.

Sagittarius: (inspiration) down for adventure, has her own set of principles and doesn't follow people who don't adhere to hers or at least have their own, impulsive, good with money, regrets nothing

Damian

Projects self confidence, which is mostly authentic, but he has some deep insecurities around living up to the expectations and examples of everyone who came before him. Extremely independent but protective of those who rely on him / he cares about.

Inevitably acts like a child when it comes to mature topics, feeling strong emotions, and wanting to form connections with others (particularly caretakers). Strict vegetarian due to his respect for life, was raised Muslim and maintains some of the cultural practices.

Leo: (canon) Very much an August Leo – somehow attracts others to him regardless of how he feels about it, no need for external validation (although it's nice to hear), respects competence

Duke

Simultaneously has a lot to prove and needs no one's approval. He cannot sit by when he has the power to do something. Exercises probably the most emotional intelligence and self awareness of the Batfam. Doesn't fully see himself as part of the Batfam, and definitely feels guilty about being "chosen" when his other WAR friends were discarded. He looks up to Tim, who was mostly Robin when Duke was a kid.

Def uses his Black card when it makes life easier or funnier for him. Similarly, he plays up being a metahuman to garner sympathy or whatever from the others. Deep down, he's insecure about his powers because he doesn't know many other folks with powers who can help him train.

Leo: (canon) charismatic leader who attracts people to him, independent, doesn't care about what people think of him because he knows himself, knows exactly how to be annoying

Miscellaneous

How the sibs see each other (post)

[spotaus]

New Age Au (Nighttime Worries)

Okay remember how I said I'd be back? Yeah. I'm unwell. This is a shorter one that I think could definitely be approved upon, but I live for posting drabbles so 🫡🫡 good luck soldiers <3

This is an Error pov set maybe a month or two after Night became small.

Also @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz ! Welcome back! :]

   "Nightmare?" Error's voice broke through the blackness of the space outside his workshop. The inside wasn't much brighter, a few loose blue strings being the only thing giving the room a faint glow. "What're you doing up here so late?"

   There was no point in titles right now. Error had always been pretty bad about using then, but especially now that the king was... younger than him. Now that Nightmare was smaller.

   Besides, it was the middle of the night, up in the top room of a fairly tall tower. He was the only one who came up here, and he'd know if there was anyone aside from Nightmare around.

   The King had come to his door, and now stood outside it. He had his cloak wrapped at his shoulders, but Error was pretty sure he could see the soft, thin, purple of his sleepwear. He didn't even see Night's mask. It was just that soft white eyelight peering up at him in the dark.

   "I... I'm not sure." Nightmare replied quietly.

   Error let a breath pass between them.

   Silence.

   "You're not sure?" Error repeated incredulously.

   Surely Nightmare wasn't visiting for no reason. Surely the king hadn't just popped by far into the night for fun.

   Nightmare seemed to clutch at his cloak a bit tighter.

   "I was in my study reading over documents, and I mentioned being thirsty, so Dust left to go get Ccino up and have him make something." He explained, then. The words coming quickly. "They took longer than I expected, so I moved to go meet them, but-" His breath quickened.

   Error was piecing it together now. The stiffness. The rapid way he'd grabbed for the strings which would alert Error to his presence.

   "I swore someone was following me, and you were the nearest." He finished, his eyelight dragging away to gaze back at the stairs behind him.

   They were cold, and unwelcoming, and curved shortly out of sight into a dark pit. Away from Error's guiding lights.

   Error gazed at Nightmare as he gathered a few more strings from his sockets. The magic spooled and glowed between his fingers, growing bright enough to cast Nightmare's shadow. Long and tall. Like his old form.

   He wasn't focusing much on that, though. More, the dark circles that seemed to be under Nightmare's sockets. They made him look so weary, and sad. Tired.

   "Well, I can tell you no one followed you up here. I'd know." Error offered him the quick comfort, and watched as Nightmare gave a hesitant little nod. Though, he couldn't seem to draw his gaze away.

   It was like he was straining to hear any little noise. See any hidden face in the darkness.

   Error sighed to himself.

   Internally, of course. He wasn't that comfortable around the king. If only because he doubted the jumpy ruler would appreciate a fond sigh in the midst of his worry.

   He'd heard from Ccino that Nightmare tended to get worried, and seen it enough times now that he had been spending more time outside his workshop.

   "We should go back to your study, your highness." Error suggested, his strings already flying behind him, clutching and wrapping at his current project. Pulling it towards him, slinging in a satchel to hold tight to his side.

   Nightmare glanced back to him briefly. In worry.

   "If Ccino and Dust are both up and they get back to find you missing?" He asked loosely, "They're going to turn the castle upside down."

   Something in that seemed to register for Nightmare, because he seemed to jolt and look fully towards Error.

   "You're accompanying me?"

   Error really held in that fond sigh this time. He cursed himself for picking up on that habit from his brothers.

   "Sure. I mean, who am I to deny a chance to work in the study again?" He joked, before changing his tone slightly. "Plus, I have my magic. Anyone following you would be dusted before they could try anything."

   This seemed to finally reassure Nightmare enough.

   Error didn't think about Night's past all that often. He certainly thought of the king, but never what led him to feel so vulnerable. He figured it wasn't just that loss of magic.

   Error stepped out of his workshop and stood beside Nightmare on the small landing.

   They were very close. Close enough that Error's bones fizzled with the ghost of pressure as Nightmare's robe fell into one of Error's arms.

   He flinched away, and Nightmare did the same with a quick little 'apologies'.

   They stood there a moment, collecting themselves, before Error started down.

  

   The stairs were long, and cold, and Error regretted his choice to not slip on his sandals before exiting his workshop, but there was no way he was turning around and being a big baby about it.

   He kept a sense on Nightmare. His shoes clicked quietly and diligently against the tone, Light little patters just behind him.

   Error remembered a time when he used to move in complete silence. He preferred it like this.

   The steps were illuminated in blue magic, a Cyan coating every crack and crevice, giving them a little bubble of sight coming directly from Error's hand where he held the wad of illuminating magic.

   It wasn't a very long trip. Not at all. But the quite felt tense and nervous. Error figured it was just Nightmare's worries feeding into his own tired energy. He'd not slept yet either.

   Soon enough they came to the break in the hall, where the arch to the stairway intercepted the main hallway between the Twin's wing (the one where Nightmare resided with the Knights) and the rest of the castle.

   Error hadn't realized how true it was that Night must've panicked halfway to his destination and rushed up to Error.

   The hall was quiet so far, and devoid of people, so he led the charge into the wide, cold space.

   The floors here had nice rugs lining the center, and he hopped onto the island of comfort away from the ruthless stone. Nightmare followed him swiftly.

   He tried to appear comfortable, because he could tell Nightmare was staring. He always did that when he was trying to figure something out.

   Something about feeling emotions when he was big and goopy. He couldn't do it anymore.

   "Still clear." Error reported, and Nightmare nodded again.

   They moved towards Nightmare's wing.

   Error hadn't been here long, but he knew that Nightmare's wing was where he had his room, one he's had since childhood, his study, and the rooms where his knights had all eventually ended up.

   It wasn't separated by a physical barrier, but no one dared to go into it unless they were invited by Night or the Knights. Or Ccino.

   Error has had permission since first arriving, Nightmare insisting if he needed anything he could come searching. Error had never taken the offer before all this.

   Of course, now was different.

   Now the king was small, and his age, and they were friends. Or, he hoped they were, at least.

   They moved quietly down the hall, passing rooms Error figured held Nightmare's resting elite guard. Or, maybe they were all off doing projects. He was pretty sure Cross was the only one with a decent sleep schedule among them.

   Regardless, there wasn't any sign of movement, no other souls anywhere in the stretch of hall.

   When they arrived to the study door, it was slightly ajar.

   Error held out an arm, halting both himself and Nightmare just outside. A glance revealed Nightmare was surprised to see the door open.

   Nightmare always closed doors behind him. It was a force of habit Error had seen plenty of times.

   "Dust?" Nightmare tentatively called out.

   Thank the gods Nightmare has faith in his knights. The thought that Dust might be inside hadn't even crossed is mind.

   Error flinched slightly as the door swung inwards, revealing Dust.

   He seemed to scan the hall, quickly taking in the scene. Error, standing partially between Night and the door. Night unharmed.

   "My lord, you had me worried." Dust said quietly, that voice low and almost a mumble.

   He moved out into the hall, past the two of them.

   Dust was short. Nearly shorter than Nightmare. He'd apparently never been tall, if the joking he'd heard was to be believed.

   Nightmare muttered an apology, quietly, and Error grumbled a bit to himself as Nightmare started around him, towards the study.

   He followed, quickly moving from carpet to stone to carpet again.

   He stayed on the ground just long enough for Nightmare to get comfortable on one of his sofas, where a few documents were strewn, before pulling himself and his project up into the air. To the small platform of strings he'd been constructing among the rafters of the high-ceiling. 

   "Nightmare, you alright?" Dust questioned more quietly once he shut the door, "Why'd you leave?"

   Error watched from his perch as Nightmare sunk in on himself a bit. Though he didn't flinch away as Dust took up a spot on the nearest chair.

   "I thought I heard something, so I came to find you." He said smally. "But I thought I heard it again in the hall, and I wasn't sure how far away you had gone to find Ccino, so- so I rushed up to Error's workshop instead of coming back."

   Dust seemed to think about it for a second, before he nodded to himself. Error couldn't see his eyelights thanks to the angle.

   "Alright, I understand." He said simply, "I apologize for leaving you alone like that."

   Nightmare just nodded a bit to himself, turning back to his papers.

   "It's alright. Error brought me back safely." He said, then.

   Error was glad he was up in his perch, because Nightmare's voice was very nice when he was calm. And it felt really nice to have Nightmare speak highly of him. He tried not to react as he saw Dust lift his skull and squint up at his platform among the shadowy rafters.

   He stuck a hand out, the one with the strings still glowing around it, and gave a thumbs up to the knight.

   He was well aware the Knights weren't all that trusting of him. But, then again Error was the newest one, and seemingly someone Nightmare had decided to trust all on his own.

   Though, Dust seemed different. He just nodded and focused again on Nightmare. He didn't chastise him for sticking around or bother him to come down.

   In the ensuing silence, Error got to work unraveling his project from his satchel.

   The glowing string moved about to light the dim space, as a few well-placed pulls allowed the pieces of his work to gently spread out onto the woven ground of his platform.

   Several arrowheads were spread before him, a few shafts discarded to the side. Each arrow point was covered in different magical layers, some looser than others, some more obvious.

   Error had been working for a bit now on an idea he'd had when he first got to the town where the wizards had been setting up for the King's arrival. To impress him, and hopefully be hired.

   One of those people had been accompanied by an archer, and their showing had been of magic-tipped arrows that could harness blue magic once they were stuck inside, forcing an enemy to a full stop if they were hit.

   It was a clever idea, but it was a one-trick show, and could only be used by the monster shooting them because they had a blue soul trait. Humans, non-patience monsters, they'd be out of luck.

   Error wanted to try something like that, but better. Use pre-made arrows and find a way to easily coat them in his magic. His strings always stayed, and the potency always remained strong, no matter how far away he was. He'd not realized that back at school, when he was testing something at his house, and accidentally set a room on fire back at the academy with strings he'd left behind.

   Though, progress had been slow. It was hard to work with materials he didn't make, but it made no sense to craft them from scratch himself, it'd be a waste of time to make enough for the entire guard, especially since arrows were a one-time use.

   The ones he'd made technically worked, but the strings either dulled the point, or loosened on impact and were easy to pull out. He needed them to stay put.

   Oh.

   An idea rushed into his head, and he scooped up one of his unused arrowheads, spinning it between his fingers, before collecting more of his magic and getting to work on his idea.

   It didn't take long, not at all, but it took just long enough that he hadn't noticed Ccino enter the room.

   Error rolled to the edge of his platform, leaning over a bit, to spot that Ccino was now sat on the couch beside Nightmare, the king tucked into the older skeleton's side. Was he shivering?

   Error figured that, just maybe, Nightmare wouldn't be in the mood to look at his deadly magical weapon right this second. He was fine with that, he'd just show him tomorrow. Or whenever he visited again.

   Before he could commit to rolling back out of sight, he found his eyelights meeting Ccino's over Nightmare's skull.

   "Oh, Error!" He greeted quietly. Ccino was always careful around him. Not unkind. "Would you like some tea? Dust's not having any, so I have an extra cup."

   The offer was surprising, and Error debated.

   Sure, why the hell not. He hadn't had tea in a while, and should probably drink something.

   He wordlessly rolled off his platform, one hand ensuring strings dropped him gently to the carpet behind the couch that Nightmare and Ccino were sat on.

   Ccino smiled at him, gently nudging Nightmare to sit up so that he could pour a new cup.

   When Night straightened, he wiped at his sockets before turning around to face Error. One hand held his tea gently, the other was free and braced against the wooden couch back.

   It seemed like he was going to say something, when he blinked and focused in on Error's hand.

   "Oh! You were working on a project?" He asked quietly, and Error internally cursed his habits.

   He still had the arrowhead loosely draped from strings in his other hand. He hadn't even realized it. It was just easier to not forget where he put things if he kept hold of them.

   "Yeah. It's... not finished yet. This is just the best version I have right now." He said, lifting his hand up so that Nightmare could see it better.

   By proxy, the other two could see it as well. Ccino returned with the cup, and held it out on its saucer to Error over the back of the couch.

   He didn't seem offended when Error used strings to grip it and hold it. It was easier to keep from spilling, and free up his hands as he did other tasks. He had better awareness with his strings than he did his normal body.

   "Mm. Magic arrows, like from the Wizard Tryouts?" Dust spoke up from his seat a bit further away.

   Nightmare blinked in surprise as he seemed to be reminded of that showing. Then his brow furrowed. "Didn't you say that those were poorly designed?"

   It was true, Error had given a full report on why he hadn't been impressed by anyone else at the showing once he was hired. He was surprised Nightmare's remembered it.

   "Those ones had shit design, yes." He confirmed, flicking his wrist so the strings shortened and pulled the arrow closer to his palm. "These ones aren't custom-made. It's your regular everyday arrow with a sleeve that wraps tight to the arrowhead."

  

   He couldn't help himself as he stepped a bit closer to the couch. "The ideal design would be something that stays on when entering the target, but remains in the wound after the arrow is removed." His strings shifted, he used his free hand to point to a band of bright blue wrapped around the center of it. "This version adds barbs to the edges, so as long as it stayed on until it hit the target, it would leave blue magic behind, dug into the wound"

   He jostled his hand a bit so the string would allow it to spin a bit. "Of course, this sort of design would only work being made of my magic, but if I made enough tiny sleeves anyone in the guard could have some nasty archery shots."

   He was grinning. He always got excited when he got to explain his creations. They were his pride and joy.

   "Gods, that's... a little terrifying, kid." Dust said with a weary chuckle.

   Error's offense, though, was quickly overridden by a motion from Night.

   The King reached a hand out to gently cup under the arrow as it swung to a stop.

   "I think it's very clever!" The King said slightly, eyelight plastered on the prototype weapon, "It's far more efficient than training our magic users in blue magic, and would certainly take enemies out with less arrow cost and man-power on our end."

   That was exactly it. Error was always relieved when the two of them were on the same page.

   "You were right Error, your design is far more impressive than that man's was." Error was less relieved when he recieved a compliment. It always felt jarring and undeserved.

   And yet Nightmare always seemed to genuine.

   "Of course it's better, my liege." He said, grinning as he retracted his hand. The arrow moving with it. "It hasn't been tested, though, so I'll need to continue working on it before we can be sure." He redirected, trying very hard to hope he hadn't blushed at the kind words.

   Nightmare hummed, "Right. I'm sure we can arrange for a few archers to try them out once you're ready." He agreed gently. "Thank you for sharing your design early, Error. It's always a treat."

   Ohh. Nightmare why infront of the others??

   Error nodded, "I'll let you know when I think I have the perfect version to test." He agreed, before stepping away to let his strings tug him back up into the darkness, along with his newly acquired tea.

   The others spoke for a bit longer below, but Error hardly listened. His cheekbones were surely flushed, and his hands shook a bit. He had to reply on pure stubbornness to continue improving on the design and not get caught up in the thoughts of how much he enjoyed Nightmare's company.

   He just had to get this right. 

[randomalistic]

first off. i can't believe that i already followed you- your spam blog -and didn't know.

second. i literally just had a dream shere i was rambling to someone about turbo using stuff from your essay. apparently it rewired my brain so hard it, and you, manifested in my dreams lol (i even made a bad joke that "you can say he's Turbo-tastic!" hah)

and congratulations on making such great work of art that is the essay, you can feel and hear the love(and hyperfixation) poured into it.

i do wonder tho, what was the hardest part when making it?

I’m so glad you enjoyed it yay :)❤️ and also recognized me from my sneo blog LOL

I feel that so horrendously much. I legit had a dream a few nights ago about someone APPROACHING ME cuz they recognized my voice from the essay (girl get an ego check) but they then said “dude it’s so obvious you’re into him” or something. And I was like. 🧍‍♀️Well you don’t have to say it out loud

Anyways you’re not the only one cuz the video haunts me too. even after its birth.

The hardest part?? Oh Man. Can I say Everything.

There were a few stretches that were REALLY TOUGH. short answer: Entire first half of the video. Also the longer parts like the Manipulation section, Turbo reveal section, and the Cybug King Candy section. I had a lot to say for these and it was tricky to condense it into something Comprehensible

Long answer:

I completely overhauled the entire first half of the video (EVERYTHING before the kart breaking scene) because I wasn’t satisfied with the writing/delivery etc. (Which was a good choice because my arguments were pretty half baked before) but oh my god that was like a week and a half of 7 hour recording and rewriting sessions it was brutal. Especially annoying because those arguments were super old and I was getting sick of thinking about them. So instead I used them as a backbone to structure better arguments and revamp the script so that kept me from going insane. However it was also really fun because I got to see my old ass arguments finally be explained to their fullest capacity. And also I got to write shit like ☝️🤓Excuse me sir your turbo is showing..

The biggest issue with this being my first ever video essay and it taking so goddamn long: you could SEE my writing/editing/voicing skills improve over the span of the video itself. Which is really cool improvement wise but REALLY . REALLY BAD CONSISTENCY WISE. Like the first half of the video is the part people are gonna see first. It SETS EXPECTATIONS. IT HAS TO BE PEAK

I think I re-edited the synopsis upwards of 5-6 times. Which makes sense as that was like the first thing I started the project with but ouhvhhhgghghr. Making a section from scratch is WAY easier than going back and having to redo something

Early on I cut out an entire fully edited/scripted/recorded 3 minute section of me talking about Megamind and its sequel because I realized. This is pointless and everyone has TALKED ABOUT MEGAMIND BEFORE AND THIS HAS NOTHIBG TO DO WITH WRECK IT RALPH. There were a lot of scrapped ideas

Audio was also really challenging, just entirely. Making sure the levels were consistent (I had absolutely zero voice volume normalization I did it all manually 😭 I’m gonna have to figure out how to do that) Also just the concept of recording my voice and having to speak out loud in a space was Real Bad for my anxiety but You Do it Scared. Had to wait until I was home alone or like 99% sure I was alone before I could say anything without worrying. Also training my voice to sound engaging and consistent was so hard and it took maybe 6 months for me to get it down. Also I had no fucking idea where to record, like at first I was recording in a CLOSET (and later under a piano??) and then I was wondering why my lines sounded so weird. Then I realized I could just Record in a room and it would sound JUST FINE. So basically uhhh every single part was the hardest part. But it was worth it and very fun I think 🫶

[wachtelspinat]

Hey ! I’ve been seeing your art going around since your midnight crew stuff and I just recently stubble across your tumblr, thank to your beautiful overwatch art for our beloveds junkers ! I’ve been scrolling through your account and read about your experience of being a former graphic designer who is a doctor now. And damn. I can’t emphasize how much I admire you, especially as someone who is struggling really hard to choose between 2 careers paths ( with one of them being art related ). This is why I was wondering if you would be open to talk about how and why you switched from art to medecine ? Especially because most of the time I feel it happens more the other way around ? ( If it’s too personal just ignore this ask + sorry if you already talked about it before )

hey ! no worries, i don't expect ppl to scroll through my tumblr to find an answer for a question they might have. first of all thanks for your nice words, means a lot <3

i switched from art to medicine because my early 20-something-self was even more anxiety-ridden than my present-self, and being in art school and having to "perform" regularly was a nightmare. i'm talking about a time in which i was so scared of being perceived that i often skipped grocery shopping, just so i could avoid being around people. so like, pitching art related projects to peers and profs was eeh... especially because art is so personal oh my god. i still hate it when someone tries to sneak a peek while i'm drawing, makes me wanna throw my sketchbook and myself off the bridge. anyways so i always felt a 110% inadequate (plus i got a gf during that time who was so good to me and tried to get me out of my funk on multiple occasions (she was and still is an artist and has now a career as a freelancer and i'm rly proud of her) but i couldn't see that because i just compared the two of us all the time and sabotaged any attempt she made for having fun with drawing with her) that i sat down at some point and asked myself if i could do this any longer, and i came to the conclusion that no, it really kills me rn.

what made me go into the health sector? i don't even know anymore, i think it was a mixture of "i loved biology, esp. the human body in school" and "my mum is an icu nurse and talks a lot about hospitals, maybe i should check it out"... it was not a well thought through decision, which is so funny because studying medicine was a hell of a meatgrinder ride (also my anxiety and self hatred? still there, but now i wasn't judged anymore because of my art but instead being called a dumb idiot collectively with all the other students because nobody likes med students) and for some reason i was able to get through that despite it not being my passion at all, but i couldn't stand up for myself in art school. i don't even know if i could work through it nowadays, but the good thing is i don't have to ask myself this question anymore, because being a doctor pays the bills, and ever since i left art school i was able to just draw without consequence. which is nice to a degree, my artistic output is not tied to the means of generating money. on the other hand... idk, in another life with more confidence and less worries, i'd love to be some sort of character designer T_T

so yeah that's basically it. at some times i cherished my career decisions, at other times i regretted them deeply, worst thing is i know it has a lot to do with personality, but the fact that we can't change who we are with a blink of an eye gives me the framework to think that the path i took was ok. as in. things happened for a reason and maybe i'm just not cut out for that kind of work. you have to be aware of the conditions of a job to decide if you are up for it. because being an artist doesn't end with "just draw". i myself had an unrealistic view of the job back then too. and the fact that i could not seperate between personal aspects and "doing a job here" was crucial.

yeah, idk if this is helpful at all. i think the one thing that is super important here is to have a realistic view on the conditions of work you are about to head into, and i know this is mostly very difficult to aquire. because unless you really work in a sector there is often no way to fully grasp the situations you can find yourself in (this applied for me also in the health sector, which made me fall into a depression a year ago, but what do you do after you spent 6 years of studying :') ). doing internships and just trying to get to know a lot of things really helps. and - idk how old you are, but if you're really young: it's ok to switch careers at some point. it's even ok to do so when you are older (trying to end on a positive note here because it feels like i just said a lot of depressing things... like don't get me wrong i like my job, the conditions are just fucked up, and again my personality prevents me from switching again but it's also not that easy in germany, BUT it's a valid thing to do, being versatile is good! just... make sure you don't end up with a job that you absolutely hate because that kills it all)

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.6}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) — (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

Word Count: 2.5k

Using your elbow – every one of your fingers already burdened with merchandise – to push back the hood of your shawl, you give a small shake of your head, the heavy entryway door closing behind you. The first inhale is always the most pleasant, a gentle reminder of your security. A reminder of home. It took a while to get used to the musk of old books and dust, and even longer to begin enjoying it, but you find it soothing nowadays. Even to the extent of being immediately calmed upon entering a library that carried a similar scent, no matter how far it may have been from the tower.

“I’m back!” You call out, moving off to the left and promptly stepping out of the black fur boots you’d been wearing. There isn’t an immediate response, but you aren’t particularly expecting one; more than likely, he’s buried his nose into yet another book in his study, and the walls are thick enough to keep him from picking up on your return, especially given his habit of becoming completely enraptured by scripture. 

Instead of heading directly for said study, you turn right, moving under an open archway into a modest kitchen, the only lighting coming in the form of the afternoon sunlight through the windows that span two of the walls. There’s a small, round dining table, complete with two chairs – there were rarely any guests, so there never had been much of a need for any extra. There had always been two chairs. It used to be for guests – once upon a time, you were that guest. And yet when you became as much of an inhabitant of the house as the chairs, Gale never did buy a third. 

You set down the two baskets that were hanging from your left arm, filled with the items he’d requested you retrieve. You were usually the one to stay up-to-date on what needed to be restocked, as you were the one to go out and fetch said items, so to have him send you on a sudden quest to the inner city was… unusual, to say the least. A dead giveaway that he needed you gone – busy – for one reason or another, and given his past tension-causing confession, you were quick to connect the dots. You didn’t mind; getting some time to reflect by yourself was nice, and it let the slate be lightly dusted off to prepare for a sweeter, less bitter, parting word. 

That peace – the reassurance of knowing you’d be able to speak to him once more – is quickly wiped away when you push open the doors to his study, and your “Gale?” goes completely without a response. It isn’t any surprise to feel your heart drop, and your worst fears have seemingly come to life. 

Instead of the messy-haired, disarmingly sweet wizard that you’d expected, you find an… Uncomfortably familiar, near transparent projection of him. He stands, blankly smiling, staring at some point in your general direction, but several astral planes away. His smile is still there, but if anything it makes you wish you were armed, as the light of concentrated weave spilled through his teeth, making the emptiness behind it all more apparent. “Ah! You’ve returned!” It chimes, more akin to a doorbell than any person you’ve ever known.

“...Gale?” You ask, because you recognize that it looks like him, but this surely is not him.

The projection raises a finger and wiggles it, shaking his head. “Not quite, but a fine guess you’ve made! I am but a projection of the esteemed wizard,” it answers, folding that same arm across his waist and taking a bow. You instinctually take a step backwards, wanting to put a little more space between yourself and this thing. “I stand in his place this evening to deliver a message of great importance to you.”

“Go on,” you sigh, gaining the confidence to awkwardly shift past him, going around a divider in the room to instead approach an unlit, but wood-occupied, fireplace between a loveseat and a matching chair. The soulless eyes don’t follow your movement, instead looking towards the entrance to the study, not registering your shift in position. 

“The great Gale Dekarios has departed on a mission of utmost urgency. I must assure you that it is not an endeavor that involves his death. Instead, it is quite the opposite! He aims to find a cure for his disease, but had to leave quickly due to the dire circumstances he finds himself in,” he explains, hands stiff at its sides, his head being the only animated part of the explanation. 

You crouch before the logs, pausing to process the words being voiced to the room. Lifting a spare sliver of log – one that you’d cut yourself – you toss it into the fire, ensuring there’s enough to hold a flame for long enough to warm the room. Then you reach for a box of matchsticks and strike an iridescent flame, waving it momentarily before tossing it into the fireplace, managing a small smile as the spark carries to the logs and begins to warm your front. 

At last, you stand, turning back to the transparent Gale and you remove your shawl, hooking it on the corner of the wall divider. Taking a stance in front of it again, you wave your hand, but it doesn’t react to the movement. It opens its mouth, and once more the white emptiness behind its teeth is revealed, empty fog exhaled through the lips, dissipating almost immediately when it meets the air of the room. “The great Gale Dekarios has departed on a missi–”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” you cut in, shaking your head. “Did he take Tara with him?”

“Tara the Tressym remains here, in the tower. Should she be absent, she’s most likely getting herself into trouble. Alas, Gale travels with nary a companion,” it replies.

“Great. Pet-sitting…” You hum, scratching your jaw. “Where is he going, exactly?”

“I have been forbidden from sharing his locale. For fear of any intentions to follow.” 

“Oh dear, my dreams have been crushed,” you murmur, finding the entire situation rather irritating. “He’s truly not going off somewhere to die?”

“He made a promise. Gale Dekarios is not a man to betray his promises. He has not yet said his goodbyes. You will, most assuredly, hear his farewells before he dares part from this plane.” 

Even if the voice is echoey and distant, it brings a small smile to your face. Moreso the words it chants, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “How long until he comes back?”

“Approximately three weeks.”

“Gods, okay…” Your smile is almost immediately wiped, and you cringe, crossing your arms in front of your chest. The projection flickers, and you fear you’re running out of time. “Is there anything else I need to know?” 

“That is all I was commanded to inform you of. However, he expressed anxiety of you discovering things he does not desire to be publicized. On my counterpart’s behalf, I recommend you refrain from prying in any of his private quarters.” 

You raise an eyebrow, and nod slowly. You definitely didn’t have any intention of doing so, nor did the idea ever cross your mind – though you couldn’t help but feel your curiosity spike at the possibility being brought up. And moreover, being warned against, though not due to real Gale’s intentions. “Right… I’ll refrain,” you answer, and the projection nods, his smile splitting into a larger grin.

“Shall that be all?”

“Yeah, that’s all,” you answer, and nearly immediately, the transparent Gale waves and disappears, leaving you alone in the study. Looking around, you notice that the scrolls aren’t organized as well as you’d displayed them earlier, instead lying in awkward piles on the shelves. Pouting for a moment, you clear your throat and call out to the tower: “Tara! I lit a fire!”

A few moments, mere seconds later, a fluffy winged calico comes rushing through the door that leads to Gale’s bedroom, and she looks up at you, some glint of dissatisfaction in her dark eyes. “Judging by the lack of a shimmering Gale in the room, I presume you’ve heard the news?” 

“Yeah, I have,” you reply, unable to ignore the slight awkward tension in the room. The two of you were far from close – if anything, it sometimes felt like she wished you hadn’t been so eager to take up his offer of extending your apprenticeship. The Tressym continues walking, jumping onto the loveseat and curling up by the fire. You follow, sitting on the opposite side of the velvet couch from her. “Where’s he going?”

“He means to visit an old friend. One who may have a better understanding of potential solutions to his Netherese problem,” she purrs in response. 

“Is he visiting Mystra herself?” You chuckle, finding it hard to believe that anyone else could possibly know more about the orb than Gale.

Her tail flicks, nose upturned in irritancy. “As if! The longer – and further – he strays from that wench, the better off he is. It’s another old wizard he’ll be traveling for. One with even more experience than himself. And a less damaged relationship with his goddess.” 

“Gale told me about her. The truth, I mean. Barely a goddess, if you ask me. I always thought they were supposed to be, like, holy and merciful, or something. I’m surprised he still speaks so highly of her,” you add, pulling your knees to your chest as you tug a blanket off the back of the loveseat, draping it over yourself. 

“Ah, at least you have some sense about it all. A lovesick fool he was,” she utters, clearly upset at the situation, and it’s easy to see why. “He was but a boy when Mystra got her paws on him – I was there to witness it all. How his eyes glowed at her raving reviews, her promises of power. How hard she tried to lure him in with the weave. And yet all he wished for was her approval.” 

“I never knew they were lovers – figured he was just one of her chosen, since she’d mentored him. Talk about a power imbalance.” Stretching out your hands, you hold your palms towards the fire, the sensations making quick work of your stress, relaxing your muscles along with your mind, and melting the tension along with it. 

“For a while, she was. He’d heard stories – read them himself, about her tendencies to tangle with her worshippers. And you understand I don’t merely mean that metaphorically. Alas, too good-hearted a man he was. Granting her the benefit of the doubt, as though she were a mere mortal in need of mercy. And soon, he too became tangled with her. It was never truly reciprocated, the love he felt for her. Her yearning was only for…”

She trails off, but you’re quick to finish her sentence; “Physical affection. Gods, what a bitch.” 

Tara purrs out a chuckle, and you’re pretty sure this is the first time she’s ever expressed amusement with you and didn’t do so in a condescending manner. “Hardly a saint. A pretty sight, but a wicked woman. I did all I could to warn against his affections for her, but my words fell on love-deafened ears. If only I could have convinced him. Even to this day, he shows an entirely unwarranted respect for her. What he did, toying with the weave itself, was his biggest blunder. An ocean of mysteries and unfiltered power – one he should’ve known better than to swim into. An intelligent mind, perhaps the smartest one I’ve ever come to know, but an absolutely tactless decision that mind managed to make.”

You can hear her regret in her tone, as though she blames herself for his mistake. Though it’s hesitant, you reach out a hand and place it on her back, and you feel her muscles stiffen. Your thumb brushes her fur, and she seems unwilling to accept your palm’s presence, but eventually she settles, easing into your petting. “He’s a stubborn man. Sounds like not even Mystra herself could dissuade him from his mission. Do you think this ‘old friend’ might really grant him a chance?”

“I think that, if anyone, he’s our best chance. And only remaining one, at that. For his sake, I hope that his confidence is not misplaced.”

“What made him have such a change of heart, anyways?” You ask, looking back at the fire.

“Whatever do you mean?” She hums, and there’s some sense of secretive pride buried on her tongue. 

“He seemed plenty ready to throw himself to the mountains and give in to the blight. What made him change his mind?”

“Oh, I’m sure it was just one of his books. Quite the impact those pages seem to have on him,” she chuckles, and you can’t help but furrow a brow. Certainly, it hasn’t been any book that you’ve read, as you can’t see a world in which the books he’s read tens of times would suddenly cause a complete 180 in his plans. You recall the projection’s mention of avoiding his private quarters, and you also remember Gale mentioning a few times that he has a private collection of books, and… well, it makes perfect sense where your mind travels. 

And you decide, seeing as how he’s chosen to completely abandon you for an entire three weeks, it’s only fair that you get back at him. And since he seemed so concerned with leaving behind his books for your inheritance, you might as well get a peek at what exactly that inheritance might include! Besides, they’re just books. How private do they really need to be? 

“I ought to be retiring. Might you be interested in practicing a lesson or two tomorrow? Seeing as how I don’t have my usual human to look after, I suppose you will make due. And I’ve witnessed Gale’s educational journey for many a year, so I’m sure I could offer some assistance in the way of your own education,” she offers, standing up and stretching, and you pull your hand away.

“Oh, sure. I’d like that, actually.”

“Very well. Bright and early tomorrow morning, yes? There’s fresh salmon in the pantry icebox. It must be sliced into squares.”

“Salmon?”

“My breakfast, dear. Has Gale taught you nothing?” She teases, and you chuckle quietly.

“Right. Salmon. Sliced into squares. I can do that.”

“Much appreciation.” Tara dips her head and hops off of the couch, wandering back into Gale’s bedroom, the door left open just a crack. 

You spend a little longer by the fire before eventually going into your own sparsely decorated bedroom, the area hardly homey, but still very much a home to you. Had you more time, you certainly would’ve spent a bit of extra gold to pick up some decorations, but aside from a bookshelf of spare stories and a few items of jewelry that had been gifted to you, there wasn’t much that truly belonged to you. The bed was small, but fit you fine, and there was little to complain about. 

Collapsing back onto the bed, you let out a soft sigh, thoughts quietly buzzing about what Gale – err, projection Gale – wished to hide from you. Though soon, your thoughts fizzle out, silenced by a blinding blanket of sleep. 

[blade-that-was-broken]

JD's Squad

A few notes on the beginning of John's squad for Soldier On - this is not a finished list; just what I have for now. The Current Cast is John Dory, Delta Dawn, Dickory, Chaz, Pete (Retired), Tresillo (new) but this is just beginning thoughts.

Suggestions are welcome!

John spends any leave that he has to leave base with one of his squad - usually Delta or Dickory - although in the later years, he does do some camping. In the last few years leading up to the explosion and incident, Delta's sister became a single mother. John has stayed there to help out sometimes.

If he is not with one of his squad, he will usually find a camping spot to stay in while doing the odd and end jobs for locals to pass the time and a cheap price.

For a while, John just stayed on base when his squad was on leave and didn't take it when offered but eventually Delta and Dickory forced him to go.

John lives very simply with very, very few possessions so he ends up just saving a fair bit of money. He's been in the military for probably over ten years now. There have been a few guys that have rotated through their squad. Pete retired and was eventually replaced with Tresillo (they don't share rank though, it's just the numbers).

Chaz is talented but a bit egotistical and can be difficult to work with. Most people do not like working with him. He definitely rubs John the wrong way and although John can usually tolerate him, they have fought before. John has broken Chaz's nose. Which drove him nuts because the guy is a bit vain.

No one expected John and Dickory to get along, but they are actually pretty close. Dickory is the shortest of the group but he's strong and crafty. And not to be underestimated. His parents were immigrants and so he carries a fairly heavy accent. He's got a younger brother, Hickory, who he is close with. Hickory wants to follow in his brother's footsteps but Dickory thinks his talents lie elsewhere.

Growly Pete, as he was known as, didn't talk much but was a great shot and an even better survivalist. John took to it with his outdoorsy nature and wasn't very offput by Pete's quiet nature, so Pete took the time to teach him. He retired a few years before the incident.

Tresillo is a fairly new soldier who was given a choice - jail or the military - and he won't ever tell you he made the wrong one. He doesn't have much in the way of family and was kind of unruly at first but he's got more discipline now and he likes his squad a lot. Doesn't love being treated like a kid but he kind of gets used to the younger brother treatment. Great dancer. Taught John and Dickory Spanish.

Even before Pete left, John and Delta kind of got the dad and mom tag, being the responsible ones. JD took care of his little brothers for years and was kind of used to it and Delta is a natural leader. The mom and dad jokes are mostly kept quiet and behind their backs.

In the incident, John was the one with by far the most severe injuries. Delta wasn't there at all and when she does hear the news, she does feel a little guilt for not being there. It's dumb and John would tell her that, but still.

Tresillo straight up blames himself. Period.

Everyone involved is extremely tight-lipped about what happened and they won't talk about it. Sometimes a little with one another but that is about it.

John becomes especially mindful and protective of youngsters. This may include both minors and young adults. This mostly comes from protecting Tresillo during the incident, who to John, is seen as barely an adult. (This is also a bit of a nod/projection to how my horse trusted and protected kids when we got her before she ever trusted adults with her own issues.)

Tresillo probably won't stay longer in the military than he has to. The incident might even give him an out. It's not that he doesn't like the military, but the incident does freak him out and after what happens to John... yeah. Part of it is some guilt, part of it is that he doesn't get along with a lot of other people and he kind of doesn't want to. John and their squad became the people he got along with, trusted, etc.

It takes a while for Tresillo to visit John after what happens but when he does, he might stick around. I don't know yet. He and Branch do become friends.

The first time Bruce sees John with Clampers, for a second he thinks John knocked some girl up. And John is just...she's like... three years old. It's becomes kind of a joke.

John may or may not punch Chaz again after leaving the military.

Floyd finds out about John entirely by accident and it's awkward and weird. He does get a little upset that no one told him before this. (He mostly communicates by letters and hardly uses a phone and is constantly traveling very busy with his growing career).

Delta ends up finishing her tour but something happens that leaves her having to take care of her niece, Claudia (aka Clampers).

That's all I got for now.