#especially not in front of troy

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

the fucking. the fucking pause after troy says “the floor can’t be lava forever, the game has to end.” then abed looks at him and you can see him debating whether to tell troy what’s actually going on in his head. he almost doesn’t tell him. but then, after a few seconds of silence, he. “it isn’t a game for me, troy. I’m seeing real lava because you’re leaving. I don’t want to be crazy but I am crazy” I’m losing my entire fucking mind HE DIDNT WANT TO TELL HIM

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part3. birthday sleepover

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: throughout the night of your birthday sleepover, you found yourself feeling increasingly drawn to Vi, who subtly reciprocated with gentle touches and closeness.

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 2k

✎ warnings: none

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

all week, Troy kept his distance. it seemed he was genuinely scared of Vi. you saw him in the hall, but he didn’t look at you once. still, you were nervous about what he might do to get back at you.

things were good at college; you were wrapping up your subjects and spending afternoons at Trish’s, planning your birthday. today, before classes, the two of you were at your house making invitations.

“write that everyone should bring pajamas,” Trish said, drawing stars on the invitations. it was your idea - the stars reminded you of Vi. “and I’m choosing the movie; I don’t want to watch any action films.”

you just rolled your eyes. “fine, but no ‘notebook’. I’ve memorized that by heart.”

you were both laughing when your mom walked into your room.

“the invitations look great. how many girls are coming? I need to know how much food to prepare.” your parents were fine with the pajama party at home; you’d agreed they’d go to your grandma’s to give you the space.

“six - Trish and I, and four more from college.” you counted the invitations.

“but I think it should be seven,” Trish smiled at your mom. “she’s just too shy to invite Vi.”

“Trish!” you pushed her arm.

“why not? it sounds like you two have become close lately. you talk about her all the time. besides, I haven’t seen her since she was a kid,” your mom chimed in.

“exactly! it’s all Vi this, Vi that - all day long,” Trish teased, laughing.

“ha-ha. very funny,” you replied sarcastically. “I don’t think she’d come, though.”

“you'll never know if you don't invite her,” your mom said, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

“could you stop embarrassing me in front of my mom? she already doesn’t believe that Vi and I aren’t dating,” you whispered to your friend.

“no wonder,” Trish whispered back.

you gave in and made an extra invitation for Vi. then, the two of you headed to college.

after the first class, you ran into Vi in the hallway. she was wearing her sports gear, her hair a bit messy, but she looked incredibly attractive.

“hey,” you said, genuinely happy to see her, giving her a big smile.

“hey, how’s it going?” she replied, smiling back. you loved her smile, especially her lips.

“I wanted to give you this.” you handed her the invitation. “it’s my birthday tomorrow, and I’m having a sleepover with some friends at my place. nothing fancy, just movies and a little gathering. my mom will make us a nice dinner,” you said, rubbing your hands nervously, worried she’d say no. maybe it was a bad idea?

Vi looked at the invitation carefully and smiled. “thanks, I’ll definitely come.”

“really? if you have other plans, I won’t be upset,” you started to ramble.

“I’ll be there,” she repeated confidently, reaching out to touch your hand. a warm rush spread through your whole body, and your eyes darted around from the tension. feeling her touch was strangely comforting, and you didn’t want it to end. but somehow, you got self-conscious about your reaction, said goodbye, and hurried home.

that evening, you and your mom decorated the living room and prepared for the next day’s party. spending time with her made you appreciate her even more as you watched how much she cared for you and your dad. once everything was ready, she kissed your forehead and wished you sweet dreams. then you headed to your room, thoughts about tomorrow filling you with excitement until you fell asleep.

in the morning, your parents entered your room with a cake lit with candles.

“I can’t believe you’re growing up so fast, my dear daughter. I thought I’d stop crying after you turned eighteen last year, but I can’t help it,” your mom said, holding out the cake as you blew out the candles.

they wished you a happy birthday, showering you with warm wishes, and handed you a small black box with a ribbon. when you opened it, you gasped in surprise.

“mom, dad, I… I don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, carefully taking out what was inside. in your hands were car keys. “thank you, thank you, thank you!” you hugged them tightly.

after a few more minutes, your parents left, giving you some time to get ready. in high spirits, you picked out your pajamas. knowing Vi would be there tonight, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you wanted to look a little better than usual for a simple pajama party. you settled on short shorts and a tank top - nothing too fancy, but just enough to show off a bit. once dressed, you ran downstairs.

all day, you kept rearranging decorations, setting up pillows and plates, wanting everything to be perfect. in between, you kept answering calls and texts with birthday wishes.

when evening finally arrived, you said goodbye to your parents. they wished you all a great night, and you sat down to wait for the guests. within half an hour, everyone had arrived except for Vi. you started to worry that she might have changed her mind, but Trish reassured you.

“maybe she's just late from practice or choosing your gift,” your friend said, noticing the concern in your eyes.

then, the doorbell rang. you glanced at Trish with a big smile and rushed to open the door. there stood Vi, looking stunning, her pink hair neatly styled, muscular arms visible under her shirt, and a slight smile on her face. your gaze landed on her lips again.

“I was starting to think you’d decided not to come,” you blurted out, unable to hide your worry.

“sorry for being late.” she stepped inside and hugged you, her scent filling the air as you hugged her back. being in her arms felt amazing; her touch stirred something in you, and you bit your lip. “happy birthday; this is for you,” she said as you reluctantly pulled away, handing you a small gift bag.

you began to open it right there, warmth flooding you as you saw a small box containing a star-shaped necklace.

“Vi, it’s amazing. thank you." you ran your finger over the charm. “would you help me?” you took out the necklace and handed it to her.

turning your back to Vi, you moved your hair aside, exposing your neck. she carefully fastened the necklace, and as her fingers brushed your skin, you felt a warm tension low in your belly. when she was done, you turned back to her. “how does it look?”

“you look beautiful” she wasn’t even looking at the necklace, only at your eyes. in that moment, you wanted her to kiss you. Vi slowly moved closer, placing her hand on your cheek, and you leaned toward each other, hearts racing. you held her gaze, neither of you breaking eye contact.

“are you two coming? we’re starting the movie,” Trish called out from the living room.

you blinked, and Vi pulled her hand back, giving you space. “we should go. I wouldn’t want to keep the birthday girl from her own party.”

you looked down and murmured, “maybe the birthday girl wouldn’t mind.” Vi smiled, and the two of you joined the others.

you and Vi sat next to each other on the couch, with the other girls settled on the floor among the cushions. Trish started the movie, and the viewing began. you couldn't focus on the film while Vi was so close, her leg touching yours. you weren’t sure if she noticed, but it sent flutters through you. thoughts drifted back to what had happened by the front door - had your first kiss nearly happened? the very idea took your breath away. what if Trish hadn't interrupted?

then you felt Vi’s leg press closer against yours. without a word, you moved just a little closer to her. you didn't dare turn to look, afraid of how she might react. the girls laughed at a joke in the movie you hadn’t even heard; your attention was locked on your knees, touching hers. then, suddenly, her hand rested on your knee. you held your breath, feeling like the room had emptied and it was just the two of you. checking to make sure no one was watching, you decided to act. you placed your hand over hers, intertwining your fingers and smiling to yourself. you took in her hand, the veins running along her arm, the few rings on her thumb and middle finger - it was a sight you didn't want to let go of.

she squeezed your leg slightly, making you bite your lip. the girls were still engrossed in the movie, oblivious to what was happening. slowly, Vi leaned toward you, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. she leaned closer, placing a soft kiss in the hollow between your neck and collarbone and whispered in your ear, “this necklace suits you so well.” a wave of satisfaction ran through you from the sound of her voice. you slowly turned to face her, close enough to smell her scent.

“thank you,” you whispered back, making her smile. she looked so good that thoughts filled your mind, and you felt yourself blush, biting your lip again. what is she doing?

the two of you held hands until the movie ended, and then you reluctantly let go. as the girls began chatting about various gossip, you served dinner and invited everyone to the table. during dinner, everyone was animatedly talking, but you kept catching Vi’s gaze across the table. she only looked at you.

“I heard someone beat up Troy at college - is that true?” one of the girls asked, and you snapped your attention to her.

“apparently, he claimed it was a football injury,” Trish added, and you and Vi exchanged a knowing glance.

“do you know anything about it?” all eyes turned to you.

“no, we’re not together anymore, and I don’t follow his life,” you replied curtly.

“what happened between you two?” the girls’ questions made you uncomfortable. you explained that he hadn’t been faithful and asked to change the subject.

after dinner, you cleaned up and returned to the living room. you all stayed up late, chatting while Vi shared stories about her team and games. all the girls listened intently, some even openly admiring her, which made you feel a sting of jealousy. finally, when everyone was tired, you decided to get ready for bed. you set up sleeping arrangements for the girls in the living room, and some chose to sleep in your parents' room. after saying goodnight and getting one last round of birthday wishes, you made your way upstairs.

“where should I sleep?” Vi suddenly asked from behind you. you realized you’d forgotten to set up a spot for her, and all the other sleeping spaces were taken.

“sorry, I just... let’s go to my room,” you said, leading her upstairs. “I miscalculated the spots. you can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Vi smiled. “you’re going to sleep on the floor in your own room? I’ll take the floor.”

“no way, you’re the guest, and I want you to be comfortable,” you insisted. “take the bed.”

“alright, but only if you do too,” Vi said, crossing her arms. “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

her suggestion caught you off guard, but the thought of spending the night in the same bed as her was appealing.

“alright,” you agreed.

Vi started taking off her shirt, and you asked, “what are you doing?”

“changing into pajamas. isn’t this a pajama party?” she grinned as you tried to avert your eyes from her toned abs. then she teased, “are you going to keep watching, or…?”

you turned around, waiting until she was done. soon you felt her hand on your waist, and she leaned in to whisper, “we should go to bed?”

her touch left you speechless, so you only nodded. you wondered if she felt the same way you did when she touched you. you both got into bed, and Vi asked, “did you like your birthday?”

“I enjoyed it. I’m glad Trish convinced me to do this,” you said, pulling the blanket over yourself.

“glad to hear it. goodnight.” Vi gently traced a finger along your cheek, smiling. “happy birthday, and thank you for inviting me.”

[navree]

octavian 🤝 neoptolemus, teens who get conflicting reports on how brutal or merciful they were in careers they started by avenging dead fathers but who definitely killed at least one child that they did not need to

OCTAVIAN!!!! NEOPTOLEMUS!!! IFYKWIM

YEAH!!! YEAH........

[whereforarthur]

Ménage à trois

A/N: Getting back into writing due to my recent obsession with the British YouTube scene, especially ArthurTv and ItalianBach. There is a lack of ItalianBach imagines and I figured I’d try and fill that void.

Pairing: ItalianBach x Gf!reader x ArthurTv

Summary: As ItalianBach’s girlfriend you are asked to gather fanfics of the boys to discuss on the podcast, not knowing what could possibly happen…

Word Count: 6.4K

Rating: Mature 

Category: Smut with Fluff at the end

Content Warnings: threesome, blowjob, pussy-eating, vaginal penetration, kinda overstim, praise, degrading, reader on the pill, unprotected sex, cum in pussy, cum on pussy, lil bit of choking, kinda forceful at times

italicized text is fan fictions y/n is reading

******

After 2 years of being the girlfriend to ItalianBach, you have grown to admire his uprising and the more and more fans that began to accumulate. Of course, you were proud of your boyfriend's success, but along with it came hundreds of thirsting fans. The number of thirst traps and edits that would now pop up on your FYP was insane. You couldn’t blame them though, to be fair you were dating a Greek god of a man.

So you were quite surprised when Isaac asked you to gather some imagines and fanfics to discuss on the next episode of the Bach and Arthur Podcast.

“Are you sure you want to torture yourselves,” a blush began to rise on your cheeks as you asked Isaac, “Some of those imagines can get pretty naughty.” Having spent your fair time on Tumblr in the past you knew of the kind of filth that people could write up.

Isaac laughed at the blush that rose on your cheeks when you asked him. “Of course, love I’m sure it can’t be that bad and I think it would be great laughs for the pod.” He replied.

You couldn't help but feel a peculiar mix of excitement and trepidation as you thought about the idea of finding hot fanfics about your boyfriend and best mate.

But you hadn't expected to find a treasure trove of fanfics and smut featuring ArthurTv, the charismatic co-host of his show. The explicit scenes had taken you by surprise, You felt a guilty thrill as you realized that the raw passion in the stories had your pulse racing.

*****

Her eyes were transfixed on the words that danced before her, a particular imagine that had caught her attention. It was of Arthur, the charismatic yet enigmatic star of the screen, a man whose allure was as vast as the universe itself.

The image painted a picture of Arthur in a state of sublime surrender, his powerful form bent to the will of unseen hands.

"Arthur looked so gone with each bounce, his chest rising and falling so dramatically with each breath, his eyes half lidded and completely dumbified, the way his lips twitched slightly as though he needed to say something but couldn't between all his high whimpers and moans which had you racing towards your climax."

Her hand wandered down to her thigh, tracing the contours of her skin as she delved deeper into the narrative. The fabric of her shorts grew damp as her arousal grew in response to the erotic tale. Each word she read was a caress, a whispered promise of the intensity that awaited her if she dared to let go.

But she knew she had to move on. There was a podcast to prepare for, after all. With a shaky exhale, she closed the tab and opened the next link. The effort to shake off the excitement was Herculean, but she managed, focusing instead on the task at hand. The next fanfic began innocently enough, a gentle romance blossoming between Arthur and another character. She forced her breathing to even out, her racing heart to slow, as she willed her thoughts back to the podcast. The words on the screen swam in front of her eyes, the aftershocks of the previous story lingering in the air like a seductive perfume.

This new tale took a surprising turn, however, as Arthur's love for lingerie began to emerge.

"A side that made him seem like a menace, almost like he was a horny teenage boy who had been left alone with his female celebrity crush, becoming touchy and needy."

Her cheeks flushed as she read about his tender exploration of his partner's body, his eyes lighting up with wonder as he revealed the secrets hidden beneath layers of fabric. It was a stark contrast to the raw, unbridled passion of the first story, and she found herself drawn to this more intimate side of Arthur. Her own hands grew curious, wandering up to her chest, feeling the soft fabric of her shirt. She closed her eyes, picturing Arthur's hands, so adept at uncovering secrets, working their magic on her.

You tried to convince yourself it was just the novelty, the thrill of the forbidden. But as you scrolled through page after page of steamy content, you couldn't help but feel a wetness between your legs that had nothing to do with the innocent curiosity of reading fanfiction. Your mind began to wander, imagining the scenarios playing out in the stories, with you as the unseen participant. The way Arthur’s mischievous smile would curve into something more seductive when he looked at you. It was wrong, you knew, but the allure was undeniable.

It was like a switch had been flipped in your mind, and suddenly, you couldn't get enough of the idea. The thought of being the one to bring that passion to the surface, to be the one they both craved, was intoxicating.

*****

The sudden sound of the key in the lock jolted her out of her reverie. Her boyfriend, Isaac, was home. She took a deep breath, willing her pulse to slow and her cheeks to return to their normal color. She had to compose herself; she couldn't have him finding her in such a state. Quickly, she minimized the browser and closed her laptop, hoping the evidence of her arousal wasn't too obvious.

"Babe, what’s got you so frazzled?" He said as he entered the living room, his voice a pleasant mix of curiosity and confusion. But as she looked up at him, she saw a glint in his eye that suggested he knew exactly what you'd been reading. A smirk played on his lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

You looked down at your laptop, feeling a sudden jolt of excitement and nervousness.

“Find anything good?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. "Just the... stuff you asked me to look f-for the podcast," you managed to reply, your voice wavering slightly.

He sauntered closer, his eyes darkening as he leaned against the desk. "Oh, I know exactly what you've been looking at," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

Isaac’s smirk grew wider as he approached you, his eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes scanned the first imagine, a grin spreading slowly across his face as he read aloud, "Submissive ArthurTV smut." The title alone was enough to make you blush, and you found yourself eagerly waiting to hear his reaction.

As he read further, his smile turned into a puzzled frown. "These are all about Arthur?" he asked, looking through the opened tabs on your laptop. You nodded sheepishly, realizing your oversight in not mentioning the focus of the fanfics. "Well, I guess I'm not as popular as I thought," he said, trying to keep the sting out of his voice. Isaac looked at you, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of his coffee before finally speaking, "Well, I'm not surprised. Girls do seem to go crazy over his cuteness."

Having read all the imagines and smut all ready in perpetration, you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at Isaac. “Oh, you have no idea just how crazy they get over the boy.” Twiddling your thumbs as your gaze drops to the floor, nervous for Isaac to read them.

He leaned over the back of the couch, his fingers tracing the line of your neck. "You know, I've always wondered what you thought about Arthur," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Isaac’s hand rested on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate circles.

You had always found Arthur attractive, but you had never allowed your thoughts to wander beyond the realm of friendship. Your relationship with Isaac had been a happy one, filled with love and laughter, and the occasional podcast recording. But here you were, with your body responding to the illicit thoughts that the fanfics had planted in your mind. The room grew warmer as you felt Isaac’s hand slide down your arm, his fingertips grazing the inside of your elbow, sending sparks through your body.

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "You know, the way the fans write about us. The... fantasies they have." His voice was a seductive purr, sending shivers down your spine.

"Fantasies, huh?" you replied, trying to keep your voice even as your heart thudded in your chest. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air. "I guess everyone has their fantasies," you added, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed your excitement.

He chuckled again, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "Yeah, they do," he said, his thumb now tracing lazy circles around the inside of your wrist. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the mischief in them. "And what about you?" he pressed, his voice dropping another octave. "What do you fantasize about?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. You had never been one to shy away from your desires, but this was new territory, even for you. "I... I've had a fantasy," you began, the words spilling out of you before you could stop them. "A threesome, with you and Arthur."

Isaac’s eyes widened, the smirk on his face morphing into something more serious. "Really?" he said, his voice thick with surprise and a hint of excitement. "You've thought about that?"

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The idea had consumed you since you'd first stumbled upon the fanfics, growing from a simple curiosity to a full-blown obsession. The more you read, the more you found yourself craving the kind of passion that seemed to exist only in the minds of the writers and their devoted readers. "I can't stop thinking about it," you admitted, your voice barely a murmur.

Isaac’s hand stilled on your wrist, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, there was silence, the air in the room thick with anticipation. Then, he leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The taste of him was familiar, yet the context was alien, a heady mix that made your head spin.

As your kiss deepened, his hand slid down to your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles that made you squirm.

You didn't know how this conversation had turned into this, but you didn't want it to stop.

"What if we made it a reality?" Isaac whispered against your lips, his breath hot and demanding. "What if we invited Arthur over tonight and made your fantasy come true?"

Your mind raced. Would Arthur really be up for that? Was he even attracted to you? The thought was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. You had known Arthur for only a couple of months, but the idea of sharing an intimate encounter with him was something you had never dared to consider. But the way Isaac was looking at you, with a mix of hunger and excitement, made it feel like anything was possible

“You think he'd be okay with it?" you asked, your voice shaking with anticipation.

Isaac’s grin grew, and he gave your thigh a firm squeeze. "I think he'd be more than okay," he said confidently. "You know he's always had a thing for you?”

The revelation sent a shiver down your spine. Arthur had always been flirty, but you had dismissed it as part of his charm. Now, the way he'd looked at you during podcasts, the lingering touches, and the way his eyes followed you around the room, took on a new meaning. You had been so wrapped up in your own life that you'd missed the signs that were staring you in the face.

Isaac’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "We can make it happen," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise. "But only if you're sure."

You nodded, your heart racing. The thought of being with both of them was thrilling and terrifying, but the excitement won out. "Call him," you said, your voice a breathy whisper.

Isaac pulled away, his eyes alight with excitement. He grabbed his phone and dialed Arthur’s number, his eyes never leaving yours. You watched him, your chest heaving, as he spoke in hushed tones, laying out the plan. You could only catch fragments of the conversation, but the way his eyes darkened and his voice grew lower told you that Arthur was on board.

As Isaac hung up, he turned to you, his gaze intense. "He's on his way," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded again, unable to form coherent words. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. You could feel your body reacting, your core tightening with need. Your stomach was a whirlwind of butterflies as you thought about what was to come. You'd never been with two men at once, and the idea of it was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. You tried to calm your racing thoughts, but the anticipation was too much. You took a deep breath, feeling your chest rise and fall with the effort.

*****

When the doorbell rang, your heart skipped a beat. Isaac gave you a reassuring wink before heading to the door. You could hear the muffled sound of their greetings, and then Arthur’s voice grew clearer as he entered the room.

"Hey, gorgeous," Arthur said, walking over and kissing you on the cheek. His lips lingered just a moment too long, sending a thrill through your body. Isaac sat down next to you, his hand resting possessively on your thigh. The tension in the room was palpable, a delicious cocktail of excitement and nerves.

"So, Isaac here tells me you've been reading some... interesting fanfics about me," Arthur said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. He had a mischievous glint in his brown doe eyes, one that told you he knew exactly what was going on. You felt your cheeks heat up again, but instead of looking away, you met his gaze, letting him see the desire in your eyes.

“They were just for the podcast," you protested weakly, though the tremor in your voice gave you away. Isaac chuckled, his hand squeezing your thigh in a silent message of support.

Arthur’s eyes searched yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he sat down across from you. "Is that so?" he said, his tone teasing. "But they turned you on, didn't they?" he said, his voice low and seductive. You felt your face flush even hotter, but you didn't deny it. There was something about the way he said it that made you feel like you were sharing a naughty secret, something thrilling and taboo.

Isaac leaned back into the couch, his hand sliding up to rest on the back of your neck. "You can tell us, babe," he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles that made your pulse race. "It's okay to be turned on by a good story."

You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat like a guilty confession. "Yes," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "They did turn me on." Isaac’s hand tightened around your neck, his thumb still tracing circles.

The two men exchanged a look, a silent communication that seemed to carry more weight than any words could. Arthur's smile grew, his eyes darkening with desire. He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, his gaze never leaving yours. "Well, if you liked the stories, maybe we could give you a taste of the real thing," he said, his voice like velvet.

You could feel the tension between the three of you, a heady mix of excitement and nerves. Arthur leaned in, his hand landing on your other thigh, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts. "Is that what you want?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions within you. The fanfics had been a catalyst, igniting a desire you hadn't even known existed. Now, with the two men you had fantasized about so intimately right in front of you, it was like stepping into a world you had only ever dared to imagine.

Isaac's hand slid up to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer for a kiss that was anything but gentle. His tongue danced with yours, tasting and claiming, as Arthur's hand began to inch higher up your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from both of them, their desire a palpable force that made you feel alive in a way you hadn't in ages.

Breaking the kiss, Isaac whispered, "Take off your shirt," his voice a gruff command that sent a thrill through your body. You complied, the fabric slipping off your shoulders to reveal your lacy black bra. Arthur's eyes widened, his hand pausing for a moment before he reached out to trace the edge of the fabric with a fingertip.

The touch was electric, sending a jolt of desire through you. You watched as Isaac's gaze drifted down to your chest, his eyes dark with lust. He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck as he unclipped your bra, freeing your breasts. Arthur’s eyes locked on them, his pupils dilating with hunger.

Isaac’s mouth found one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. You gasped, arching your back, your hands tangling in his hair. Arthur took the opportunity to kiss along your collarbone, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your bare leg, his hand now resting on your hip.

The anticipation was unbearable, the room spinning with the heady scent of desire. Then, Isaac pulled away, his eyes locked on Arthur's. "Your turn," he said, his voice a rough growl. Arthur's eyes met yours, and you could see the challenge in them. You leaned in, your heart racing, and kissed him for the first time.

It was nothing like you had ever experienced before. Isaac's kisses were familiar, a dance of love and comfort that you had shared countless times. Arthur's kiss was something else entirely—it was wild, raw, and consuming. His lips were soft, yet firm, demanding your attention as his tongue slid against yours. You felt a jolt of electricity as your bodies melded together, his hand cupping your face with a gentle urgency that made your knees go weak.

Isaac’s hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the contours of your body as he watched the two of you, his desire evident in the way his chest rose and fell. You could feel his arousal pressing into your side, a constant reminder that this wasn't just a kiss between you and Arthur, but a shared experience among the three of you.

Arthur's hand moved to your bare shoulder, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, the sound lost in the mingling of your breaths. His other hand found its way to your breast, his touch firm yet gentle, teasing the nipple until it stood at attention. You couldn't help but arch into his touch, the sensation making your toes curl.

Isaac's hand slid down to your waist, his fingers unbuttoning your shorts with a deftness that spoke of experience. He tugged them down, revealing the dampness of your panties. Arthur broke the kiss, his eyes dropping to the exposed flesh, his breath hitching in his throat. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.

You felt Isaac's hand slide over your bare skin, his thumb hooking into the fabric of your panties. He tugged them down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, yet incredibly turned on. You watched as Arthur's eyes followed the movement, his hand now resting on the bulge in his pants, his fingers tracing the outline. The sight of him, so obviously affected by your shared intimacy, was intoxicating.

"Take them off," Isaac murmured, his voice thick with need. You obeyed, standing up to shimmy out of your shorts and panties, leaving you in nothing but your heels. Arthur's eyes roamed over your body, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. You felt a thrill of power at being the object of their desire, the center of their attention.

You sat back down on the couch, sitting in between the two boys. Isaac groaned as you pressed against him, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts. Arthur leaned in, his mouth finding your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. You moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. Isaac's mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the tender flesh.

You felt Arthur's hand slip between your thighs, his fingers toying with the slick folds of your sex. You were wet, so wet, and the feeling of his touch was almost too much. Isaac's hands roamed over your body, his fingertips teasing the edge of your ass, his thumbs tracing the line of your hips. You could feel their arousal, the thickness of their cocks pressing against you, and it only made you want more.

Isaac's mouth found yours again, his tongue delving deep as his hand began to rub you in slow, deliberate circles. You gasped into the kiss, your body responding instinctively to his touch. Isaac's hands moved to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rocked his hips up into you, his hardness teasing your wetness.

You could feel the fabric of the couch beneath you, rough against your skin as Arthur's fingers slid deeper, his thumb circling your clit with expert precision. Isaac's mouth traveled down your neck, planting kisses along the way, his breath hot against your skin. Your hips began to move in time with Arthur's hand, the friction building into a crescendo of pleasure.

“Let's switch things up," Arthur murmured, his voice thick with desire. He gently pushed you back until you were lying on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. He knelt between your legs, his hands on your thighs, spreading them wider. "I want to taste you," he said, his gaze burning into yours.

You felt a thrill of excitement at his words, the reality of the situation hitting you like a wave. You nodded, unable to form coherent words, as Arthur's hands guided you closer to the edge of the couch. Isaac watched, his eyes hooded with lust, as Arthur leaned in, his breath hot against your center. You could feel the anticipation building, the tension in the room almost tangible.

Arthur's tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time, and you moaned, your hips bucking upward. He chuckled, the vibration against your clit sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His tongue delved deeper, exploring you with a hunger that was both surprising and thrilling. He was so attentive, so eager to please. Isaac's hands were on your breasts again, pinching and teasing your nipples as he watched Arthur devour you.

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of Arthur's skilled mouth and Isaac's firm grip on your body pushing you closer to the edge. You reached down, your fingers tangling in Arthur's hair, guiding him as he licked and sucked. You could feel the tension building, your muscles tightening as the first waves of orgasm began to crash over you. Isaac leaned down, his mouth finding yours as Arthur's tongue swirled around your clit, pushing you over the edge.

“Arthur, I'm going to cum," you gasped, the words barely making it past the lump in your throat. Arthur's eyes flicked up to meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he redoubled his efforts. You could feel the warmth spreading through your body, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you couldn't hold it in anymore. You moaned, the sound muffled by Isaac's mouth, as you came, your body shuddering with pleasure.

The two men pulled back, their gazes locked on you as your orgasm washed over you. You felt a warm glow spread through you, a sense of satisfaction that was new and exhilarating. Isaac's hand slid down to cup your face, turning it so he could kiss you again, deep and slow, as Arthur's thumb lazily circled your clit, sending aftershocks through your body.

*****

When your breathing had evened out, Isaac whispered, "Now it's our turn." He slid out from under you, standing up and unbuckling his belt. Arthur followed suit, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped out of his clothes. The sight of the two of them, fully aroused and ready, was like something out of your wildest dreams.

Without a word, you reached out and took Arthur's cock in your mouth, the velvety softness of his skin against your lips sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Isaac watched with rapt attention, his hand moving to stroke his erection as he took in the sight of you pleasuring his podcast partner. The sensation was foreign, yet exhilarating, and you found yourself eager to explore more.

Isaac knelt beside the couch, his eyes on your bobbing head as he stroked himself. His cock was thick and veined, the tip glistening with precum. You felt his hand on your thigh, his thumb brushing against your still-sensitive clit, sending shockwaves through your body. You moaned around Arthur's cock, the vibration making him gasp.

"Fuck, you're so good at that," Arthur groaned, his hand tightening in your hair.

"Arthur, she's incredible," Isaac said, his voice thick with desire. "Her mouth is magic." Arthur groaned in response, his eyes rolling back as you took him deeper, the sound of your gagging only adding to the intensity of the moment.

The praise sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you want to show them just how good you could be. You took Arthur deeper into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked with all the passion and skill that Isaac had enjoyed.

Isaac leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "You're going to make him cum so hard," he whispered, his hand sliding down to your ass, his fingers teasing your opening.

The dual sensations of Arthur's cock in your mouth and Isaac's fingers on your ass were driving you wild. You felt yourself getting wetter, your pussy begging to be filled. Isaac noticed, his hand moving to stroke your clit as he whispered more dirty words of encouragement.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low growl of approval. "Take him all in. Show him how much you want this." Your eyes watered slightly as you took him deeper, the tip brushing the back of your throat. You felt a thrill of power as Isaac's hand tightened in your hair, guiding you, his breathing growing ragged. You had never done this before, but something about the moment made it feel incredibly right.

You felt Isaac's breath against your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his arousal pressing against your back, his hand still working magic on your clit. Arthur's hips began to buck, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in a rhythm that matched the strokes of your hand. You could taste the saltiness of his precum, a hint of what was to come.

Suddenly, Arthur's body tensed, and with a guttural groan, he came. You felt the warmth of his cum fill your mouth, and you swallowed eagerly, not missing a beat. The salty taste was surprisingly delicious, a testament to the power of the moment. You pulled back, licking your lips, watching the aftermath of pleasure play out on his face. Isaac's hand slid away from your clit, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Isaac leaned in, watching with hooded eyes as you continued to pleasure Arthur, drawing out every last drop of his release.

Arthur leaned back, his chest heaving, a look of pure bliss etched on his features. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the power you had over him, the way he had lost control in your mouth. Isaac chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand tracing the line of your jaw.

You looked up at Arthur, his cock still semi-hard in front of you. "Can you go again?" you asked the question dripping with curiosity and desire. He blinked, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "For you?" he replied, his voice still thick with arousal. "Always."

Isaac chuckled, his hand guiding his erection closer to your mouth. You eagerly took him in, his taste a heady mix of desire and power. As you began to suck, Arthur's cock grew harder, the anticipation building. You felt him shift behind you, his fingers ghosting over your ass before he positioned himself at your entrance.

With a single, smooth thrust, Arthur entered you, filling you up completely. You gasped around Isaac's cock, the sensation of being filled by two men at once was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Isaac's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as Arthur began to move, his strokes long and slow, drawing out the pleasure.

"Look at her," Isaac said, his voice filled with pride. "Taking us both like a champ."

Arthur's hand smacked down on your ass, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You yelped, the sting turning into a rush of heat that only added to your arousal. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You're so fucking sexy."

You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you on the edge of another orgasm. Isaac's eyes never left yours as you took him deeper into your mouth, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, a testament to Arthur's passionate strokes.

Arthur's hand tightened on your hip, his other hand sliding around to your throat. He didn't squeeze, but the mere presence of his touch there sent a shiver down your spine. It was a silent claim of dominance, one that had your body responding in ways you didn't fully understand. You felt Isaac's cock swell in your mouth, his breathing growing ragged.

The three of you moved in a symphony of passion, each touch and stroke building upon the last. You could feel Arthur's cock twitching, his movements growing more urgent. Isaac's hand in your hair tightened, his hips jerking as he approached his climax. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, Isaac's hand left your hair, his fingers sliding down to trace your cheek. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice strained. You obeyed, your eyes locking with his as he began to spurt into your mouth, filling you with his warmth. You swallowed, the salty taste of him mixing with the pleasure of Arthur's cock inside you. Isaac's eyes never left yours, the intimacy of the moment searing into your soul.

Arthur's pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he felt his release building. He leaned over you, his hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple. The two men watched each other over your body, their expressions a mix of lust and possessiveness. Arthur's strokes grew more erratic, his breathing ragged. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice tight. You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your core threatening to shatter you.

“Come for us," Isaac murmured, his hand sliding down to stroke your clit in time with Arthur's thrusts. The combination was too much, and with a scream that was muffled by Isaac’s mouth on yours, you came again, your body convulsing around Arthur's. He followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you with his release.

For a moment, the three of you stayed like that, panting and trembling, lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. Then, Arthur withdrew, his cock glistening with your juices.

You felt boneless, your muscles turned to jelly as Arthur pulled out, his breathing ragged. Isaac helped you up, his arm around your waist as you swayed slightly. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a low rumble of concern. You nodded, a lazy smile on your face, still reeling from the intensity of the experience.

The three of you stood there for a moment, panting and sweaty, the air thick with the scent of sex. Isaac leaned in to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth in a way that left no doubt who you belonged to. Arthur's hand rested on your shoulder, his own need for dominance sated for the moment.

*****

The three of you collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily, your bodies sticky with sweat and cum. You felt a sense of euphoria wash over you, a heady mix of satisfaction and disbelief.

“Damn, that was incredible," Arthur murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction. You nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions coursing through you. You felt used in the best possible way, claimed by two men who had given you pleasure beyond anything you'd ever known.

Arthur stepped closer, his hand tracing the line of your spine as he leaned in to kiss you. "You're both incredible," you managed to say, your voice a hoarse whisper.

*****

Arthur stepped back, his desire still evident in his eyes. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said, his voice still thick with lust. You nodded, your legs wobbly as Isaac helped you to your feet. He led you to the bathroom, the two of them following close behind. The warm water of the shower washed over you, the steam filling the room as they lathered your body with gentle, soothing strokes.

They took turns washing you, their hands gliding over your skin with a tenderness that belied the intensity of what had just happened. You felt cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by them. Isaac's hands lingered on your breasts, his thumbs flicking your sensitive nipples until you gasped. Arthur's soapy hands roamed down your back, his fingers tracing the lines of your ass before slipping between your cheeks.

You took a deep breath, feeling both sated and overwhelmed. "Guys," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't handle anymore tonight." You felt a twinge of regret, but your body was begging for a break from the intensity of the evening.

Isaac's arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your ear. "Sshh, baby," he soothed. "You've been amazing. We'll save the rest for another time." His words were like a warm blanket, wrapping around you and easing the tension that had built up in your muscles.

Arthur nodded in agreement, his eyes still dark with hunger, but understanding in your exhaustion. "You've done more than enough," he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine despite your satiation. "Let us take care of you now."

When you were clean, they helped you out of the shower, wrapping you in a soft, warm towel. Isaac's arms circled you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your neck. Arthur took the towel from you, his eyes never leaving yours as he dried you off, his touch lingering in all the right places.

They led you to the bedroom, the soft light from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. Isaac laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin as Arthur climbed in beside you. They surrounded you, their warm bodies a comforting cocoon that seemed to chase away any lingering nerves or doubts.

You snuggled closer to Isaac, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you against his chest. Arthur's hand found your thigh, his fingers idly stroking the soft skin as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You felt safe, cherished, and more alive than you had in a long time.

You looked up at Isaac, your hand sliding up to trace the line of his jaw. He opened his eyes, the intensity in them replaced with a soft, affectionate gaze. "Thank you," you whispered, the words barely carrying across the pillow.

He smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. "For what?"

You shrugged, feeling a little shy. "For making this happen. For making it feel...right."

Isaac leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and reassuring. "You're welcome," he murmured. "Now get some rest. We've got a podcast to record tomorrow."

You chuckled, the mundane thought of the podcast a stark contrast to the erotic whirlwind of the evening. Arthur's hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair. "Sleep tight, love," he whispered, his voice thick with affection.

“I can't believe we're going to talk about this on the podcast," you said, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“Don't worry," Isaac assured you, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip. "We're not going to spill the beans about what happened here. That's our little secret." Arthur nodded in agreement, his hand still resting on your thigh. "But we will definitely talk about the fanfics," he added with a wink.

The three of you lay there, the tension of the evening slowly unwinding. The air was still heavy with the scent of sex and desire, but now it was tempered with a warmth that was almost comforting. Isaac’s chest rose and fell steadily beneath you, his heartbeat a reassuring throb that lulled you closer to sleep. Arthur's hand continued to move in lazy circles, his breathing evening out as his eyes drifted closed.

The podcast was going to be interesting tomorrow, you thought with a small smile. But for now, you were content to bask in the afterglow of your newfound reality. This was a night that would go down in history, not just for the podcast, but for the three of you.

******

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

A/N: Let me know what you guys think my first time writing in a while, I am going to open my requests to imagines of the British YouTube scene. Let me know if anyone would be interested in that!

A/n: Big shoutout and thanks to @g-xix and @live-laugh-lenney for letting me reference and use some of their brilliant smut in this imagine

Smuts references:

Submissive ArthurTV smut

arthur loves lingerie

[greekmythcomix]

How I teach the Iliad in highschool:

I’ve taught the Iliad for over a decade, I’m literally a teacher, and I can even spell ‘Iliad’, and yet my first instinct when reading someone’s opinions about it is not to drop a comment explaining what it is, who ‘wrote’ it, and what that person’s intention truly was.

Agh. <the state of Twitter>

The first thing I do when I am teaching the Iliad is talk about what we know, what we think we know, and what we don’t know about Homer:

We know -

- 0

We think we know -

- the name Homer is a person, possibly male, possibly blind, possibly from Ionia, c.8th/9th C BCE.

- composed the Iliad and Odyssey and Hymns

We don’t know -

- if ‘Homer’ was a real person or a word meaning singer/teller of these stories

- which poem came first

- whether the more historical-sounding events of these stories actually happened, though there is evidence for a similar, much shorter, siege at Troy.

And then I get out a timeline, with suggested dates for the ‘Trojan war’ and Iliad and Odyssey’s estimated composition date and point out the 500ish years between those dates. And then I ask my class to name an event that happened 500 years ago.

They normally can’t or they say ‘Camelot’, because my students are 13-15yo and I’ve sprung this on them. Then I point out the Spanish Armada and Qu. Elizabeth I and Shakespeare were around then. And then I ask how they know about these things, and we talk about historical record.

And how if you don’t have historical record to know the past, you’re relying on shared memory, and how that’s communicated through oral tradition, and how oral tradition can serve a second purpose of entertainment, and how entertainment needs exciting characteristics.

And we list the features of the epic poems of the Iliad and Odyssey: gods, monsters, heroes, massive wars, duels to the death, detailed descriptions of what armour everyone is wearing as they put it on. (Kind of like a Marvel movie in fact.)

And then we look at how long the poems are and think about how they might have been communicated: over several days, when people would have had time to listen, so at a long festival perhaps, when they’re not working. As a diversion.

And then I tell them my old and possibly a bit tortured simile of ‘The Pearl of Myth’:

(Here’s a video of The Pearl of Myth with me talking it through in a calming voice: https://youtu.be/YEqFIibMEyo?sub_confirmation=1

And after all that, I hand a student at the front a secret sentence written on a piece of paper, and ask them to whisper it to the person next to them, and for that person to whisper it to the next, and so on. You’ve all played that game.

And of course the sentence is always rather different at the end than it was at the start, especially if it had Proper nouns in it (which tend to come out mangled). And someone’s often purposely changed it, ‘to be funny’.

And we talk about how this is a very loose metaphor for how stories and memory can change over time, and even historical record if it’s not copied correctly (I used to sidebar them about how and why Boudicca used to be known as ‘Boadicea’ but they just know the former now, because Horrible Histories exists and is awesome)

And after all that, I remind them that what we’re about to read has been translated from Ancient Greek, which was not exactly the language it was first written down in, and now we’re reading it in English.

And that’s how my teenaged students know NOT TO TAKE THE ILIAD AS FACT.

(And then we read the Iliad)

[zegrasdrysdale]

More Jamie angst please 🙏🙏

[ last season ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie reaggravates his shoulder injury from last season two games into the 23-24 season. (Y/N) tries to be there for him but taking care of him isn't as easy as it was last time

warning(s) : angst (w a happy ending) ! injured Jamie

author’s note : y’all are just as bad as me w angst. you can’t blame me for this one if tears are shed. one of you asked for this and your wish is my command. also, yes ik that jamie technically has a lower body injury rn but a shoulder injury just works better with this plot

༺═──────────────═༻

(Y/N) has been to dozens of hockey games in her life, and watched thousands more. She's watched games where players return after an injury that kept them out long term. She has never personally known a player that has returned from long term injury. She's never watched someone she knows return to the ice after nearly a year away from the NHL.

Until now.

The lights in the Honda Center are dimmed and the starting lineup for the Ducks is being announced. Trevor's line is starting the game. He's centering Adam Henrique and Troy Terry. The defensemen who are starting are about to be announced. She gets her phone ready to go because she knows her boyfriend is on the starting defensive pair.

"Your starting defensemen for the Anaheim Ducks," the announcer says. "Number four. Cam Fowler." The crowd cheers and (Y/N) smiles as she brings her phone up to hit record. "Playing in his first game in the Honda Center in 354 days, number six. Jamie Drysdale."

Jamie skates onto the ice and (Y/N) cheers and screams along with the crowd. She bangs on the glass while Jamie raises his stick to acknowledge the crowd.

He has a look of disbelief on his face as he looks around and skates up next to Cam. She smiles and looks at her boyfriend. He looks at the crowd around him and takes it all in.

She takes Jamie in on the ice in his new plum colored uniform. She knows how far he's come since getting hurt last year.

They had just gotten together when Jamie got hurt against Vegas and she saw him at his lowest. She saw him the day he got cleared to play again. (Y/N) can't help but smile as the lights come on and the Ducks begin to skate around to get ready for the game. The other lines and defensive parings skate to the bench.

Trevor gets into the circle at center ice against one of the Hurricanes players to take the first faceoff of the game. Trevor wins it and gets the puck back to Jamie.

(Y/N) watches with focused eyes, especially when Jamie gets the puck on his stick.

The first goal of the game goes to Sam Carrick nearly seven minutes into the first period. The second goal of the game comes less than two minutes later from Frank Vatrano. He slapped the puck into the net after Jamie passed him the puck.

She probably screams the loudest out of everyone in the Honda Center when she realizes that Jamie is going to get a point for that primary assist.

The boys celly right in front of her so she bangs on the glass. Jamie looks up at her and fist pumps the glass. She brings her fist up to meet his before he skates away to go fist bump his teammates on the bench.

"Anaheim Ducks goal!" comes over the loud speaker a minute later. "His first of the season, scored by number 77 Frank Vatrano! Assisted by number 6 Jamie Drysdale and number 4 Cam Fowler."

Her celebration is short lived because she watches Jamie get tripped by a Carolina player less than a minute later right in front of her. She stands up and sees Jamie go shoulder first into the boards.

The same shoulder he got surgery on and spent the last year rehabbing.

A gasp passes her lips when she hears the thud of his body hitting the boards. A penalty is called on Carolina and Jamie stays down on the ice. A hush falls over Honda Center.

Trevor is quick to skate up to him and get down beside him. She bangs the glass and Trevor looks up at her. He taps his shoulder as the trainer gets over to him. Her eyes widen and she runs up the stairs as soon as Jamie skates off the ice with help from the trainer and Trevor.

The first thought she has is that he tore his surgically repaired shoulder when he collided with the boards. The sound of Jamie’s body hitting the boards replays in her mind and the more she thinks about it, the more nervous she gets.

She makes her way down to the medical area by the locker room. She pulls out her pass that Jamie got her last year that tells security who she is. She shows the guard her pass to get into the players only area. He lets her through and she sprints to medical.

The doctor is checking out Jamie’s shoulder when she bursts into the room. The bottom part of his uniform is on but his sweater, undershirt, and gear are off the upper part of his body. He looks like he’s in a lot of pain as the doctor evaluates him.

“Jamie,” she pants. He looks over at her and relaxes. “I got down here as soon as I could.” (Y/N) walks over to him and grabs his hand.

“I need to learn how to hit the boards with my back,” he jokes. The doctor lifts his arm and he hisses in pain. “So this stops happening.”

She frowns and opens her mouth to say something but the doctor starts speaking first. “Fortunately, I don’t think you tore your labrum again. I don’t think anything is torn. I think it is just a moderate sprain but I want to get imaging done this week to make sure,” he tells Jamie. “Can you come in on Monday?”

Jamie nods, quiet. “I guess I’m done for the night,” he eventually says.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” the doctor replies. “I think you’re done for a few weeks. Recovery time for this injury is six to eight weeks, sometimes less with rehabilitation and rest. Given your past history with your shoulder, I think rest is the best option right now. Don’t push it until the four or six week mark. Wear a sling and don’t try to rehabilitate it on your own. We’ll talk about that in a few weeks.”

With another quiet nod, he gets off the table and grabs his jersey, t-shirt, and gear. He sulks out of the medical area.

She looks at the doctor and asks, “What can I do? He had a hard time with the last shoulder injury. How can I help him with this one?”

“Be there for him,” he replies. “Physically. Emotionally. This is going to be twice as hard. He’s going to blame himself and take out how he’s feeling on you. He won’t mean it but sometimes he’ll need to let out how he is feeling. Try your best and take care of yourself while you take care of him.”

With a curt nod, (Y/N) follows Jamie out the door. She finds him in the locker room putting on his arrival suit. He groans with pain every time he moves to pull on a piece of clothing. She walks up to him to help him and he sighs.

“Here I am again,” he says as (Y/N) helps him put his jacket back on. “Leaving in the middle of another game because I hurt my shoulder.”

She frowns and fixes his collar. “I’m sorry, baby,” she softly says. “Do you want to go get something to eat and bring it home? Do you want to go up to the suite to watch the rest of the game? Whatever you want.”

“I want to get back on the fucking ice,” he snaps. “But instead I’m leaving to go home and put my arm back in a stupid sling for four weeks.” Jamie grabs the first thing he can get his hands on — his helmet.

With his good arm, he chucks the helmet across the room. It hits a wall with a loud bang and falls to the ground. He strings a bunch of curses out in frustration as the helmet flies through the air. (Y/N) lets him get out how he’s feeling. If that means he throws around his equipment then he throws around his equipment. She isn’t going to stop him. She can’t even begin to imagine how he feels right now.

Jamie sits in his stall and (Y/N) crouches in front of him. Her hands run up and down his thighs. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. “This isn’t how I wanted this season to go,” Jamie mumbles. “I didn’t want to be out for the first two months. I didn’t want to sit for a long period of time again. I don’t understand why I can’t stay healthy. It's so frustrating. I wanted this season to be different and it's almost exactly like last season."

"It's not like last season," she tells him. "You can do two months. Two months is nothing compared to last season. I promise." There's a horn on the ice and she realizes that the period is over. "Go talk to whoever you need to. I'll be out in the car waiting for you, okay?"

He nods and they both stand up. She gives his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the locker room. She probably isn't allowed to be in there to begin with so she shouldn't be here when the guys come in.

She doesn't run into anyone that's on the Ducks or works for them on the way to the car. She drove in with Jamie so he should know where it is whenever he's done talking to his coach and teammates.

Until then, she scrolls through her social media feed.

There are a lot of tweets on her timeline and in her notifications that are about Jamie. There are multiple clips of the trip and Jamie going into the boards. There are even more clips of Jamie getting up while holding his arm. There are even pictures of (Y/N) watching behind the glass. In all of them, she has a worried look on her face.

A lot of people are upset that Jamie got hurt because he just came back. There are a lot more that are wishing Jamie a speedy recovery.

Reports are already circulating that Jamie reinjured his shoulder. Not returning to the game and out six to eight weeks.

She decides to send out a little tweet since Jamie doesn't have Twitter.

y/n @/yourusername jamie's okay. a little banged up but he'll be back. gonna wrap him up in bubble wrap as soon as we get home, dpn't worry

As soon as she tweets it, her notifications begin to blow up.

The door opening beside her makes her jump a little. She looks over and watches Jamie get into the car. He slams the door shut and lets out a heavy sigh. "Are you-"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," Jamie snaps. "Let's just go home."

With a nod, she starts the car and begins the ten minute drive from the Honda Center to their apartment. It's probably the quietest ride she's ever experienced.

༺═──────────────═༻

The Ducks aren't doing too bad this season. They're on five game winning streak, but it seems like the more the Ducks win, the more upset Jamie gets.

To hopefully make him feel better, (Y/N) takes him to the Honda Center nearly three weeks after he gets hurt to watch his friends and teammates play against the reigning Stanley Cup champs.

Hopefully they can make it a six game winning streak.

As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Jamie's mood sours. It's like he doesn't want to even be in the vicinity of the arena. He looks out the window at the building with a sigh. He has on a Ducks hoodie with a pair of jeans because it's actually kind of cold in California at the moment. His arm is in the sling. It's been there for three weeks.

"Hey," she says with a smile. "I think it'll be nice to see everyone. You haven't really been out since you got hurt so I think it'll be nice to see your friends and teammates. I'm sure Z misses having you around. Mason too."

Jamie just nods, sighs, and gets out of the car. She feels a surge of something that feels like annoyance as she follows him out of the car.

She's been trying her hardest to make things easier for him. She has been helping him with a lot, including beginning his rehab so he can get back on the ice. Clearly he misses playing so she went against the doctor's wishes and has started helping him rehab his shoulder.

And she's gotten nothing in return. All Jamie does is snap at her and tell her to go away when she's been trying to help him.

"You know, a little 'thank you for taking me out' wouldn't hurt," she says behind Jamie as he walks toward the back entrance.

"Thank you for dragging me out of the apartment against my will," he says in reply. "Really appreciate it."

(Y/N) stops walking and just stares at the back of Jamie. "I'm trying to help you, Jamie," she calls after him. "I know how hard it is for you to-"

Jamie whips around so quickly she's afraid that he gave himself whiplash. "No, (Y/N)," he snaps, interrupting her. He starts to walk back toward her. "You don't know how hard it is for me. You have no idea how it feels to be taken out of play again because you hurt your shoulder. You have no idea how it feels to sit back and watch your teammates win five fucking games without you. It's like they don't even need me and it shows. I'm supposed to be out there and instead, I'm stuck inside doing nothing but rehab and resting. Don't tell me you know how hard it is for me because you don't. You will never understand how hard it is for me."

Her eyes widen. She's never seen this side of him. Not even when he was hurt last season.

"I'm sorry," she softly says. Her voice cracks. "I'm just trying to help."

"No you're not," Jamie replies. "You wouldn't have dragged me here if you were." Those words stung. She felt them with her entire chest and it causes tears to well in her eyes.

"Jamie," she tries to say but he turns around and walks toward the arena.

"Go home, (Y/N). I'll get a ride back with Trevor or Mason."

She watches Jamie as he opens and door walks into the Honda Center. She's left standing in the middle of the parking lot with nothing but the tears that roll down her cheeks as soon as Jamie can't see her. She tries to blink and wipe away the tears but they don't seem to stop. She walks toward the car so she isn't crying in the middle of the parking lot.

This is nothing like last season. Not the injury, and not Jamie.

(Y/N) drives back to the apartment in complete silence. The tears haven't stopped rolling down her face. It might be dangerous to drive while crying but she doesn't care. She just wants to get home and lay in bed.

As soon as she's back in the apartment, she walks right to the room she shares with Jamie. She passes the small room that they turned into a gym. Jamie's equipment is in the room too. She stops and walks into the room. Her eyes are on the equipment that's thrown in the corner by the closet.

She walks over and picks up the helmet that has a dent in it from when Jamie threw it in the locker room the day he got hurt. She runs her thumb over the 6 on the front of the helmet and bites down on her lip to keep it from wobbling.

All she wants to do is watch Jamie play hockey. She wants to watch him zoom around the ice and do what he does best. She wants to watch him do what he loves. That's all. She hasn't been able to watch him play the sport he loves to play, and it breaks her heart.

With the helmet in her hand, she walks out of the gym and into their bedroom. She kicks off her sneakers and crawls on top of the covers. (Y/N) sits with her knees up and the helmet on her lap. Her fingers run over the number and tears begin to roll down her cheeks again. They continue to roll down her cheeks until she dozes off.

She didn't mean to fall asleep though.

It's nearly midnight when a door opens and wakes her up. She looks at the time and realizes that she missed the entire Ducks game. The bedroom door opens and Jamie stands in the doorway. The helmet has rolled onto the mattress beside her. The sight of Jamie angers her and causes her to chuck the helmet at him.

She's no longer upset with him. She's angry at him for the way he's been treating her.

"Jesus, (Y/N)," he gasps as he catches it with his free arm. "Why did you-"

"I've tried to be here for you," she interrupts. "The past three weeks, I've been nothing but your emotional punching bag and I'm tired of it. I've gotten nothing in return and I try to do something with you by taking you to the game, you tell me to go home. No, I will never understand how hard it is for you to be hurt and watch your friends win games without you, but you don't understand that I'm hurting too, Jamie. I want nothing more than to watch you play hockey. I have yet to watch you play a full game of hockey and that's all I want to do because I want to support you. If you don't think that I'm trying to help you get back on the ice then I'll stop because I'm so tired of being the person you take your feelings out on. Tell me to go and I'll go stay somewhere until you heal and are able to play again."

Jamie's eyes are on her the entire time she's talking. He holds the helmet she threw at him in his hand while she finishes what she has to say.

He looks down at the helmet in his hands when she's done. "I didn't know you felt that way," he says.

"I'm frustrated too," she tells him. "I don't have anyone I can go to like you do. You have me, you have an entire team. I don't have anyone because I only have you and I didn't want to burden you with how I'm feeling. I have no one to talk to because the one person i want to talk to has so much going on and I didn't want to make it worse."

She watches his face soften through the tears that have formed in her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He drops the helmet and walks over to her side of the bed.

Jamie sighs and puts a hand on her knee. "I haven't been very fair to you, have I?" he asks. She shakes her head in reply while she wipes away the tears that have started to roll down her cheeks again. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't realize that this has been hard on you too. I didn't realize that I've been such an asshole to you. I'm just frustrated and I'm taking all of that out on you when you've been nothing but there for me. You don't deserve that."

"I don't like seeing you hurt," she cries. "I want you to get better. I want to watch you play so I can be the supportive hockey girlfriend I've wanted to be since day one. I love watching you on the ice and I want to watch you under the NHL lights."

He frowns and moves so he can envelope her in a hug. She buries her face into his good shoulder and lets out a couple sobs. Her tears wet his hoodie but she doesn't care right now. It'll dry.

Jamie wraps his free arm around her neck and holds her close. "I don't want you to go anywhere, (Y/N)," he whispers. "I need you here. I won't be able to get through this if you aren't here. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend recently and I'm so sorry. You'll never be a burden with how you feel. You can talk to me, okay?"

She backs away and wipes away her tears. Jamie swipes one away with his thumb. "Okay."

"I love you," Jamie tells her. "Even if I don't show it. I love you and I'm very happy you've stuck around despite me being an asshole to you."

"I stayed because I love you too," she replies. "I'll always love you."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. "I can't wait for you to watch me kill it on the ice when I'm all healed."

"I'll be in the stands cheering for you the entire time."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[thedaiscool]

the framing in stranger things is GENIUS if byler does end up canon.

in s1 when troy and james are bullying will for queer the framing is always mike front and center with lucas and dustin slightly behind him, if you took out the context they were talking about will it’d look like they were talking to mike in all those scenes.

and in s3 the set up almost every single time was byler on the left side, lumax on the right, eleven alone in between the two groups. OR eleven in the middle with max on the left and lucas on the right, with will on the left and mike on the right behind them. AND when jancy was there they were in front of the kids standing in the same positions as the other ships, nancy on the left and jonathan on the right. they had 2 canon couples next to eachother then the third one separated and instead replaced with byler??? like please the takes and framing had to have been planned especially with it being that consistent the entire season

and dont get me STARTED on the s4 finale. jancy on the far left, jopper on the far right, byler in the middle, eleven alone and FAR away from them sitting in dying flowers which were the same ones mike gave her while him and will are standing in fresh ones?? please can you be any more obvious with the setups

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

If that happens I’ll just pretend it doesn’t exist. I absolutely refuse to even Acknowledge that.

Several things here:

1) Donna is a MINOR here. She's like 16! Can we not sexualize her???

2) Why's Wally Naruto running? Also why does his face look like that?? Also his fingers (which are yellow for some reason???) are sticking out of Garth's crotch in a very odd way.

3) Dick's cape clips behind Garth??

4) Garth's dramatic ass pose. This part is actually great. Garth should do more dramatic ass poses.

[xjulixred45x]

I was making some drawings with the story of the Trojan War in the background, when I just got to the part of the sacrifice of Iphigenia (Agamemnon's daughter) so that the ships would march towards Troy.

and it gave me a little idea for this little drabble.

Imagine that the reader is a lover of one of the 3 main members of the house of Hades (Zagreus, Thanatos, Megaera) and one day their family tells them to go to a specific place for a matter of EXTREME importance.

Without knowing it, the reader goes to where they plan to sacrifice them to the gods (you decide the reason).

What the family does not take into account when this happens is that using the Aid of the gods, reader calls their lover to help them (could it be possible? I would be upset if it were).

Can you imagine the reactions of each person when they see that mortals want to sacrifice their partner?

Thanatos is definitely against this sacrifice being made with his partner obviously, and he protects them, but he is the most aware of the situation, that if there is a sacrifice, some god asked for it, and he knows that something that would be worse (especially for his partner) than dealing with mortals, would be dealing with a GOD/GODDESS.

Therefore, Thanatos would try to use diplomacy as much as possible, although he would use force if necessary to defend his partner (if they needs it) and would try to fix the situation without bothering any higher entity.

He is the clumsiest when it comes to comforting his partner, but he doesn't want them to feel bad in the long run, so even after the situation is under control, he takes them somewhere nice to make them feel better.

Zagreus is definitely LIVID with anger when he finds out what is happening, I think he would try at first to say that it makes no sense for them to ask for a sacrifice because the gods usually DON'T LIKE THEM (like what happened with Pelops) but as soon as he sees that that It doesn't work, he goes directly to violence.

Do they want a sacrifice to the gods? Well, let them be it themselves. Besides he gets to show off a little with His partner lol.

although he definitely tries to comfort them emotionally after that kind of betrayal while he can be on the surface (or even offer them some time in the house of Hades, if they want). Good and unusual Badass/angry Zagreus.

Megaera....OF...she jumps right into violence. They don't even have to tell her what's happening, she sees her partner in trouble and distressed and she sees RED. brings out her most violent side.

When it's all over she goes to check on her partner and asks what happened and it only makes her even angrier. Of course it was deadly stupid. But he's glad they're okay. she's not as emotionally good as Zagreus, but at least she comforts her partner because she knows what it's like to feel so disconnected from your "family."

She is definitely going to take the time in Tartarus to torment her partner's family or at least she leaves it to her sisters :)

BONUS:

POLY THAN/ZAG/MEG is a weird mix of all of the above. probably having Thanatos trying to make things "right" Megaera and Zagreus try not to go straight to violence. THEY WOULD TRY.

although as soon as they see that there is not going to be a real negotiation, that they ignore them or, gods forbid, they try to kill their partner EVEN WITH THEM IN FRONT OF THEM Zagreus and Megaera will no longer hold back and will go for BLOOD.

Thanatos, seeing that diplomacy failed, would only dedicate himself to checking on his partner to see if they were hurt or if they are feeling well in general. The man wants ANSWERS of how this happened.

When it's all over, probably the three of them (especially Zagreus and Meg) would be much more vigilant with their partner, it was just a big scare. Besides, lots of hugs and cuddles. I don't make the rules.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

This was fun to write:D

[thefallennightmare]

Ménage à Trois-seven

*gif created by me(thefallennightmare). simply give credit if you use*

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ only please, swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Bucky has a proposition for Reader, something involving Steve. This trio, however, never expected for their lives to change after that night the way it had.

A/N: holy moly this is a long one. enjoy!

Tags(open): @matisse030502 @buckystevelove @floral-recs @inlovewithametalarm @buckies-dolle @cjand10 @matchat3a @kamaria-sweet-writes @pono-pura-vida @miikayywhocares @kunaikunari @mousee555 @akmenia

The car ride was a thick quiet even with the crowded back seat. I sat next to Steve, who sat in the middle, and on the other side of him sat a well-dolled-up redhead with dark red lipstick, her eyes glancing over toward Steve occasionally. I did my best to keep my gaze out of the window, my mind filled with so much of what was about to come from Steve that I couldn’t focus on the surprise passenger.

Was this a good idea? Him becoming this super soldier? None of it made sense or sounded like the best idea, his best idea. If Bucky were here, he would slap Steve upside the back of the head; something I’d like to do right now, especially with the eyes that he and the redhead are making.

I swallowed the large, jealous lump in my throat because there was no need to feel that way. Steve was simply being nice to her, that I knew because Steve placed his hand on my left knee the second we sat down in the car's backseat. Neither of us expected a third party with us so we were both shocked when we saw the car pull up.

“Who’s that?” I asked Steve.

He sighed gently. “Peggy.”

The same Peggy that had been with him during his time at basic training. The same Peggy that had a hand in choosing him for this program.

I ought to wring her neck for that.

Steve assured me he had no feelings toward her but failed to mention how gorgeous she was.

“Hey.”

His soft voice brought my attention away from the window, and I responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you alright? I don’t think you’ve said one word since the car picked us up,” he mentioned.

I nodded while trying to smile at him. “I’m just nervous for you, that’s all.”

Steve brought my hand up to his lips and left a few pepper-soft kisses on the inside of my palm. “You don’t have to worry about me, doll. I’ll be fine.”

All I could do was ignore him, not wanting to give my brain an excuse to think of whatever this procedure was. So I thought of Bucky instead and what he was doing right at this moment. Who was he with? Was he thinking about them?

Was he even alive?

I squeezed my eyes shut tight to force that thought out of my mind. Bucky had promised me in his most recent letter not to dwell on that thought. If I did, it would make things difficult for me when all he wanted was for me to keep a smile on my face.

“I got beat up in that alley,” Steve’s finger pointed in front of my face. “In that parking lot. And behind that diner.”

With a quick follow of his finger, my heart pinched at the memory he had spoken of. Steve got beat up in the alley we had passed and thankfully, Bucky had found him before he became worse for wear.

Peggy blinked. “Did you have something against running away?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, not liking the difference in the tone of her voice.

“If you run away, they’ll never stop.”

Steve looked down at his hands so I reached for them, covering them with my own. It was the talk of that town that he was always standing up against the bigger guys, and bullies, and he would never back down. If he didn’t fight for the smaller guys, who would?

The car came to a sudden halt, and I peered through the window, confusion etched into my eyebrows.

“What are we doing at an antique shop?” I questioned.

Peggy simply motioned for us to follow her out of the car and when we were on the busy street, my eyes took in the two bodies that leaned up against the car behind us, one of the man’s fedora hats pulled low over his eyes while the other had his hat pressed against his chest. When their eyes met mine, goosebumps pricked over my skin and fear filled me. Something about these guys didn’t sit right we me.

“Steve,” I laced our fingers together to pull him to a stop. “Are we safe?”

He left a soft kiss on my cheek and some of the fear slipped away. “I promise we are. We need to trust Peggy. She wouldn’t steer us directly into danger.”

I scoffed. “Trust her? I met her an hour ago.”

“Y/N,” Steve sighed. “Can you please do this for me?”

It was my turn to let out a sigh. Even though I had a bad feeling about the entire thing, I gave him a curt nod before allowing him to drag me inside the antique shop. At the sound of the bell ringing above the door, an older lady with sandy white hair stepped through a curtain.

“Wonderful weather this morning, isn’t it?” She said.

Peggy nodded. “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

Before I could even wonder why they were talking about the weather, the older lady stepped to the side of the three of us to walk through the previous curtain she had walked through. It was only a few steps until we came to a stop in front of a bookshelf.

“I’ve got a bad feeling” I muttered mostly to myself.

Steve, however, gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

My shoulders jumped at the sound of something unlocking, and the bookcase in front of us slowly opened. Peggy didn’t bother to look at us, only kept her gaze forward as she walked down this short hallway. I took in the few people wearing lab coats, and we walked passed a table that someone was sitting behind; she gave us a small smile. She, along with a few others, was wearing almost exactly what Steve was wearing.

Steve was dressed up in his army uniform which meant that wherever we headed was some kind of hidden military base. Why was it hidden? What were they so afraid of others finding?

The doors in front of us opened, and we stepped out onto a balcony, the peeling green railing was there for me to grasp as I stared down at the many more bodies below. As the sound of us, all of their movements halted and stared up at us.

A small gasp fell from my lips. “Is that Howard Stark?!”

Peggy cleared her throat, annoyed at my sudden enthusiasm. “Yes. We’ll be using his technology for this procedure.”

I continued to stare at the billionaire that stood out in the middle of the scientists and it wasn’t until Steve pulled me along that we descended the steps. An older man with balding grey hair and round glasses perched high on his nose closed the distance between us with an extended hand toward Steve.

Steve’s hand dropped mine, and I frowned at the sudden loss of warmth.

“Good morning,” the man smiled.

A bright flash blinded us and after I blinked a few times, I noticed a photographer in the room had taken a picture of Steve and the man.

Steve turned towards me. “Y/N, I’d like you to meet Dr. Erskine.”

My jaw slacked slightly. This was the man that offered Steve this baffling opportunity? This was the man that was changing Steve, my Steve, the one that I had fallen in love with. Into some kind of super soldier? What would this mean for him IF it had worked?

“Ah,” Erskine smiled brightly. “Mr. Rogers talked a lot about you during his time at camp.”

I shifted on my feet, nervous. “Good things, I hope.”

He nodded. “Only the best. You seem to have quite the hold on him.”

If it was any other time or place, my heart would have swelled at the words but now as I stared at the contraption in the middle of the room there was only one thing on my mind.

“What is that?”

It looked like some kind of torture chamber, somewhere for Steve to lie in and get god knows what done to him.

Dr. Erskine sensed my doubt and came up next to me as I walked around the chamber-like bed.

“Mr. Rogers will step inside where we will close him in and administer the serum,” he explained.

My feet froze, locking eyes with the doctor. “Steve’s claustrophobic, he won’t step inside this thing.”

“Doll,” Steve began.

“Have you tested this serum?” I asked with my arms crossed over my chest.

“No, not recently,” Dr. Erskine admitted.

My eyes bulged. “Not recently? So what you’re saying is you do not know if this serum could kill Steve?”

He nodded, and I groaned while giving Steve my attention. “You want to do this?”

It was Steve who nodded now before grasping my hands and pulled me into him. My eyes peered down at him, only slightly, because the heels of my shoes had given me an extra half inch on him. With his small stature, I thought for sure Steve wouldn’t like it if I was taller than him but he never minded. He loved the way the straps of my heels wrapped around the soft skin of my ankles.

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingered on the nape of my neck.

“You’re not going to change my mind, Y/N. I’m doing this.”

I let out a shaky breath and reluctantly nodded. “Bucky is going to kill you once he finds out. You know that right? Then he will kill me for allowing you to do this.”

That caused Steve to chuckle low. “I think we both know that Bucky wouldn’t ever lay a finger on you like that because of something I did.”

I blinked, my eyes burning with tears. “There’s a chance I lost him. I can’t lose you.”

My words had trailed off with the rush of wet tears slipping over the skin of my cheek but Steve was quick to wipe them away. He hushed my cries with his soft lips to mine in a short but passionate kiss.

“We didn’t lose him. It’s Bucky we’re talking about. He doesn’t give up easily,” Steve reassured me. “And you will not lose me. I will be fine. If I didn’t trust Dr. Erskine, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

All I could do was nod, broken eyes gazing at our feet. Even with his words, Steve couldn’t ease my racing heart. Every vein in my body pulsed with fear; the fear of if this would work and the fear of being alone. Steve’s finger lifted my chin, and we shared another kiss, this time more deeply and I wrapped my arms around his back, reeling him into me. Our chests caved into each other and I could almost feel the beating of his own heart against mine.

Someone cleared their throat which caused Steve to pull away. Peggy was staring at us with an annoyed glint in her eyes.

“Are you ready, Steve?”

He nodded.

“Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat,” Dr. Erskin said.

Steve did as he was told and when he stood shirtless in front of me, I took in every inch of his skin, ingraining this picture into the confines of my mind in case somehow this procedure didn’t work and it would be the last time I would see Steve.

His hair was messy thanks to his hat and a few strands were falling into his eyes, the bright blueness of them shining back at me. Under the skinny and frail skin of his chest, I watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. The freckles that peppered his skin caught the light from overhead as he laid back down on the bed. I reached for his hand, bringing it to my lips.

“I still don’t feel good about this.”

Dr. Erskine smiled. “Mr. Stark, how are our levels?”

My heart jumped in my throat as the billionaire slinked up beside me, flashing me a bright teethed smile from underneath his mustache. “Levels are one hundred percent. Good.”

He then shrugged down at Steve. “We might dim half the lights of Brooklyn but we are ready, As well ever bed.”

I didn’t miss the way Howard Stark shifted on his feet, unsure of his own words.

With a quick kiss on Steve’s forehead, I cupped his cheek, “I’ll see you soon.”

Steve nodded but even though he was being strong for me, I knew deep down he was afraid. I could feel the way his face shook inside of my hand.

I gave my best smile and followed Dr. Erskine’s orders to go sit upstairs in the viewing deck, alongside Peggy and other men in suits that seemed to fill the room quickly. There was one seat left in the front row, directly in front of the large window that peered down at Steve. I slid into the chair before Peggy even had the chance to glance at it, not bothering to say hello to any of the men. My knee bounced as I bit my nails, nervously. All I could think about was Bucky and how he’d react once he found out about Steve.

Would he be upset like I was? Or would he become aroused at the new Steve?

That thought had just now appeared in my thoughts. Steve said the serum would change his appearance as well, how we didn’t know. We wouldn’t until it was over.

I grimaced as a loud feedback sound from a microphone pierced loudly in my ear. Dr. Erskine was tapping his finger on a microphone, his voice echoing around us in the booth.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Today we don’t take another step towards annihilation but the first step on the path to peace.”

This is what they wanted to use Steve for. As a way for peace?

I scoffed loudly, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Peggy who sat behind me.

Dr. Erskine continued as a large metal tub wheeled in next to Steve. “We begin with a series of microinjections into the subject’s main muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change.”

Nurses around Steve pulled six blue vials out from the metal tub and hooked them up to the chamber he was lying on.

“And then to stimulate growth.” Dr. Erskine’s voice began again. “The subject will be saturated with Vita Rays.”

With his hand on Steve’s shoulder, he began a countdown showing the procedure was about to begin. My heart pounded so hard against its cage in my chest that I could barely breathe, my throat closing in on itself. I felt dizzy as the whole room spun, so I gripped the sides of my chair tightly to hold me down in place. The chamber rose to a parallel position, the three sides of it closing over Steve, not before they had injected the serum into Steve.

Dr. Erskine knocked on the door. “Steven. Can you hear me?”

“How’s Y/N? Is she doing alright?”

All eyes from the view booth stared at me and I slunk back into my chair, a hue of red creeping over my skin. Even when Steve should only worry about himself, he couldn’t stop thinking of me.

Dr. Erskine looked up at me and I gave him a thumbs up, showing I was alright, given the circumstances.

As they proceeded, the building rumbled low and a bright light coming from the chamber blinded us up here.

“Vitals are normal,” one doctor said.

The higher Howard Stark raised the pressure of the Vita Rays, the brighter the light shined and it wasn’t until I heard Steve’s scream that I raised to my feet, running back onto the balcony. Peggy’s voice called from behind me, trying to halt my movements.

“Turn it off!” I yelled down at them.

Dr. Erskine was pounding on the face of the chamber, yelling Steve’s name repeatedly.

“Turn it off!” I bellowed once more, tears pricking my eyes.

He turned on his heels, ready to do as I asked until Steve’s voice echoed. “NO! I CAN DO THIS!”

“Steve,” I cried. “Please.”

I fell to my knees, resting my forehead on the cool metal of the railing as Howard Starks voice called out that they reached one hundred percent. The surrounding electricity buzzed and hummed as the light inside the chamber pierced my eyes. Sparks shot off from all the technology in the room until suddenly, the power of the chamber cooled to a quiet hum.

Slowly, I rose to my feet as everything around me quieted down.

“Is he alright?” I asked Peggy.

She stared at me with uncertainty and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

My feet raced down the stairs and I yanked my arm away from a guard who tried to stop me. Dr. Erskine held up a hand, saying it was alright.

“Steve?” My voice quaked with worry.

Suddenly, the doors of the chamber opened, and I feared the worst, Steve’s mangled and contorted body waiting to fall into a heap on the ground.

Only it didn’t. The man inside was still Steve but different. His muscles had doubled and the definition of his abs was the first thing that caught my attention. He was breathing heavily, eyes closed, and it was when he fell that Dr. Erskine caught him that Steve awoke. His eyes fluttered open, gazing around the room. Howard Stark was on the other side of him and by now everyone in the view deck had filled into the main area, astonished that it had worked.

The noise of the happy chatter was muted in my ears as I continued to stare at Steve, unable to move because yes it may have looked like him but was he still my Steve?

It was my name falling from his lips that had snapped me from my frozen state.

“Where’s Y/N?”

Dr. Erskine found me among a flood of people and reached for my hand, dragging me closer to Steve. Now, even with my heels, he had towered over me by at least a foot. His chest look larger now close up and I raised my hand to touch it but reeled back, unsure.

“Doll,” Steve cooed. “Are you alright?”

His eyes didn’t miss the way mine were wet with tears. His hand reached for me but I took a step back.

“How do I know you’re Steve and not some kind of monster?”

Steve flinched but composed himself quickly. “I met you when you were 16 when you first started dating Bucky.”

I raised a brow, still not convinced. “So? Anyone could know that?”

He chuckled. “Under that black dress you’re wearing that skimpy-.”

My hand clamped over Steve’s mouth, hushing his words instantly. I didn’t need everyone in the room to know what color underwear I had worn today.

“Shhh!” I hissed, eyes boring into him.

Even if his body had changed, those eyes were still the same bright blue I remembered.

“I can’t believe it worked,” I admitted with a long breath.

My hand traced over the skin of his chest and stomach, his hard muscles tensing under my touch. I swallowed a moan and pressed my legs together.

Steve cupped my cheek. “I told you it would.”

I ignored his always-right attitude. “How do you feel?”

“Taller,” he smirked.

Even with everyone around us, congratulating one another, it felt as if Steve and I were the only two in the room thinking the same thing. We needed to feel each other, Steve in his new body, as soon as possible.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed around us, and glass fell on top of us like rain. Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder and threw me to the ground, himself protecting me from whatever had blown up. Once the ringing in our ears stopped for a moment, Steve looked me all over.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded, lips parted to speak until two distinct gunshots muffled Dr. Erskine's words. I watched in horror as his body fell to the ground, Steve running over to his side. He poked Steve in the chest twice, the silent action being enough for Steve to understand.

He looked over at me. “Stay here.”

Before I could even protest, Steve ran after the mystery shooter leaving me among the chaos.

[dump-troy-marry-me]

The first time Annie goes back home, it isn't home anymore. It's been four years, and the locks have changed, and she can see the window to what was once her room on the second floor, now framed by off-white curtains instead of the pink her mom had hung up for her when she was 14. Somehow both a strange, unfamiliar place, and the home she grew up in.

The domesticity of the suburb her mother's house is nestled in is cloying now, oppressive. She doesn't know how she didn't notice it before, the way every house on the street has the same perfectly manicured lawn, the same perfectly manicured roofs and windows and faux-brick siding. The same perfectly manicured facade.

The diploma - not even wrapped in a fake leather cover like her high school diploma had been, just a flimsy sheet of paper that lists her valedictorian status at the least respected college in the state - hangs limp at her side. It's not enough. To bring home a diploma that means to next to nothing, especially when compared with the full-ride scholarship to Yale she had lost, it's not enough.

Not enough for her mother, or herself, or this cheerily fake brick house. Not enough.

She turns on heel at the very beginning of the sidewalk leading up to the door, and walks away.

It doesn't matter, she decides. She's here to say goodbye, to give one last look to her old life before she heads out to DC, that's it. It doesn't matter what had changed and what she had missed and whether this house was still home to the old life that she remembers, almost second-hand.

The second time she goes back, it's to say goodbye. It's two years later, and the house still looks exactly the same from the outside. Through her old window, still framed by that off-white that had gone just a bit off-er with sun exposure, she could see a wooden crib, and it sinks in her stomach like lead. What else had changed?

Every step up the sidewalk toward that old, imposing wooden door reverberates up through her spine, in time with the beat of her heart. She gets closer and closer, and the buzzing in her ears gets louder and louder, and she can see her mother's face so clearly in her mind. She wonders if she'll still look the same.

She gets halfway up the path, this time. Still, she turns back. No need to say goodbye, she decides.

The third time is the very last time she'll ever look at her childhood home. Her fiancee had offered to come, so had Troy and Abed, and Jeff, and Britta, and Shirley. She had turned them all down.

It's not an invitation. It's just - to let her know. Because she'd always imagined, when she got engaged, that she'd tell her mother.

She straightens a hand down the front of her sundress, and watches the shadows cast by the oak tree move across the grass. It's the only thing that's different. The shadows - the oak tree. It's grown in the decade she'd been gone. Nearly unrecognizable from the one she'd climbed as a kid.

She does get up to the door this time - close enough to see the grain of the wood, the perfectly polished shine of the doorknob. She raises a hand to knock before she can think any better of it, before she can talk herself out of it.

It sounds weak in the face of suburbia, and she wonders if anyone could hear it at all.

A man opens the door, and it shakes her that she doesn't recognize him.

"Hello?" He asks, all cheery smiles and politeness and it makes her stomach turn.

"Hi," she says, voice trailing up almost in question and she clears her throat. "Is, uh, is Nancy Edison there?"

His smile turns apologetic. "Oh, no, sorry. She moved out a few years ago. Hey, I have some of her mail if you know her."

The twist in her stomach turns sharper, and she fights the urge to vomit. A few years ago. Had she even been here, the last time Annie was here? When did Annie fade so deeply into obscurity in her mother's life that she couldn't even call to let her know?

Her eyes feel prickly, a lump in her throat, but it sits okay with her, despite everything. Almost relief. She had spent the past decade carrying around a weight that she could finally, finally let go. It wasn't her home anymore, not her life or her family.

That's all sitting back in her apartment, or at Greendale, or back in DC. None of that's here, in this house. Why had she come here again?

The man had gathered a few envelopes, held out toward her. She smiles.

"No, you can keep them," she says, already turning away. "I don't know her."

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

IT'S 11:30 PM BUT I AM HAVING THOUGHTS

THOUGHTS ABOUT APOLLO AND ORESTES

I HAVE NOT READ THE ORESTIEA BUT DW I HAVE IT AND I'M GONNA READ IT AFTER THE ILIAD

I MAY HAVE MORE THOUGHTS AFTER THAT WE SHALL SEE

I made my Apollo & Cassandra post a while back so now it's time for Orestes :)

just. ahhhh. how do i begin.

at the beginning i guess.

Orestes is a young child when he's smuggled out of Argos. By his sister to keep him safe when their father is murdered by their mother. He's a young boy exiled from his home because of the actions of a vengeful queen.

Years later, he receives a mission from Apollo - kill his mother to avenge his father. And he does just that.

Apollo was a young god, not even born yet, when he was exiled from the very earth by a vengeful queen. His mother fought and ran to find a place to deliver him and his own sister to safety. In his mother's honor, he goes out of his way to kill those who dare to harm her - Python and Tityus, to name a few.

The parallels get me okay? Even if it's not a deadringer, they are sill there.

Apollo defends his mother while Orestes kills his.

Orestes was ordered to kill his mother while Apollo murdered others for Leto on his own accord.

And what REALLY gets me is their different motivations in this situation - Orestes believes he's avenging his father, the man he never quite knew. Apollo meanwhile wouldn't loose sleep over Agamemnon's death.

Apollo wasn't aiming to avenge Agamemnon. He was avenging Cassandra.

But he couldn't tell Orestes that, now could he? After all, what was a mere slave girl from Troy to Orestes? Especially since he didn't know her at all.

Avenging Cassandra wouldn't be enough to convince Orestes to commit matricide. So Apollo uses Agamemnon's death as incentive for Orestes.

And it works. Apollo's goals are met - Clytemnestra and Aegisthus are killed, and Cassandra's soul can rest easy now in Elysium.

He could cut his losses and leave Orestes to the Furies. He no longer has anything to do with this.

But Apollo stays with Orestes. He helps him rest in Delphi before getting him a headstart to Athens. He defends him in court from the Furies, in front of the jury of Athenians and Athena herself. He puts himself firmly on Orestes's side and uses whatever means necessary to get him off the hook.

And if that means manipulating the city of Athens via their sexist ideologies? It's free real estate. When you're in court, you use whatever you can to help your client.

And Apollo wins. Orestes is free to go, and the curse of the House of Atreus is gone for good.

just. vibrating from this. the similarities between Apollo & Orestes in their youth that diverges in stark ways. How Apollo could have dropped Orestes the moment his own goal was finished, but chose not too - he chose to take it a step farther and get rid of that curse for good. So Orestes and his family could live in peace.

When I first heard about the Oresteia, and what Apollo says to free Orestes, I had a hard time reconciling it. Apollo just didn't give off those sexist vibes to me (as a matter of facts, very few gods do - after all, they appear how they want when they want. gender is meaningless to gods.).

But I did some digging. Some thinking. And really, Apollo is quite in-character during the trial - he's in Lawyer Mode. He manipulates the system to his advantage as well as the Athenian citizens with their misogynistic beliefs.

Because think about it. Apollo uses the argument, in brief terms, that a mother has no claim on the child because they are only for making babies. This gets half of the Athenian jury to immediately side with Orestes.

Is this a bullshit argument? Absolutely. But sometimes a bullshit argument gets your client out of trouble and that's the job of a lawyer - to help their client.

For a closing statement, I also want to say that I don't think Apollo himself believes that sexist opinion. After all, Leto was the one running around the world to find a safe place to deliver him and Artemis - Zeus did very little to help.

It was his mom who did all the work, and Apollo is very clearly a mama's boy.

Plus, 99.9% of the people Apollo hangs out with are women. Leto, Artemis, the Muses, Athena, Hecate, Aphrodite, ect ect

There's no way he actually buys that argument. He just used it to gaslight the very-sexist Athenians into voting in Orestes's favor because godsdammit that curse needs to go!

thank you for coming to my TEDTalk. I have feelings. goodnight now. happy new year. i shall post a snippet of a storyboard idea for my mythology series tomorrow that features apollo & orestes because I HAVE FEELINGS.

[glendover]

“am I flinch?“

okay, idk if I want to theorize but I still think it’s sooo interesting that Troy decides to hold his entire “am I flinch” speech in front of Stinky, a Mikey who presumably doesn’t know about Flinch, or doesn’t care much about the mystery around Flinch. A Mikey who doesn’t know a lot about any of the woe.begone stuff actually and thus doesn’t have a real interest in it or obtaining further information on the matter. So should Troy turn out to be Flinch then he’s not being found out right away by telling Stinky, but makes the listener go “huh??”. Because the likelihood of Stinky telling the others about it are slim. He didn’t really listen to Troy and he hadn’t brought it up after their mission was done. So I hardly think he’s deeming it as important and more as just a thing Troy did, bc he’s Troy. But even if Stinky would tell the others, I don’t think they would necessarily believe him. Because what? Troy tweaked out and rambling about being Flinch? Sounds made up.

now some reasons why Troy being Flinch would make sense (in no particular order or sense):

he’s rich (where did he get all that money from??? certainly not from working at OVER)

him acting all suspicious and telling Stinky that he’s flinch

acting dumb as a cover up is fucking smart

it’s suspicious that he went into the river, the place they all try to get to this finale, to clean his show from piss (like bro aren’t you old enough to be able to not piss directly onto your shoe????? 😭😭)

It would just be so funny if flinch was just a dude, who happened to be really smart when it comes to that one thing but not so smart the rest of the time (should it not be an act and Troy is genuinely not so “bright”)

reasons why he’s not flinch:

he’s literally just a little guy

no but even if he wasn’t Flinch I need to know how Troy knows about Flinch. Especially since he’s so good at forgetting names and important details. So how does he know??? Also why would they tell Troy? It’s not like finding out who flinch is had been the Mikes’ priority. It’s quite the opposite actually, they haven’t really thought or talked about Flinch in general.

Anyway, I’m keeping this thought carousel “short” because it’s going nowhere. But this has genuinely been something that had me pause in the s13 finale.

[glisten-inthedark]

I feel like a great illustration of Mike’s loyalty and care for his friends (but specifically Will in this instance) is how during Will’s memorial assembly, Mike confronts the bullies for laughing throughout it. It would’ve been really easy to rationalize not confronting them as, “well we’ll be the ones laughing when we get Will back, I know he’s alive,”

but even though Mike heard Will singing on the walkie and knows he’s alive, he still confronted them and framed it as if Will was dead and they were being messed up (instead of doing that cliche *loudly and confidently claims something that sounds crazy and causes people to mock and laugh at you and make the situation worse* trope (I’m thinking specifically of this one Amazon movie Drew Gooden commentated where this girl goes, “I got an A on my math test because my dog tutored me! He can talk and only I can hear him!” 💀 that kind of trope lmao, imagine if Mike did that in front of the whole school but about Will being alive))

and tbh I think Mike would’ve lashed out at Troy even more if he actually still thought Will was dead, straight up I think he would’ve thrown hands lol, he would’ve lost but he would’ve thrown those hands

Hello!!

This was the moment Mike became like my baby, to be honest. He was so fucking loyal to Will, so ready to fight anyone that talked shit about him or his friends for that matter.

And oh if Mike believed Will was actually dead he'd most definitely have thrown hands with anybody, especially Troy.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hot take, I would disagree that Lily and Antoinette are a fair comparison. True enough they both were friends and outlets to their respective men, however, Lily was not actively interfering with someone else’s relationship. I sympathize with Antoinette to an extent, but she did know Lestat was in a relationship with Louis and still chose to get involved with him. Lestat also appeared very transparent with where his love lied. That fact in itself made her less sympathetic because it wasn’t like Lestat was lying and misleading her and she didn’t know the extent of the relationship. She comes off like she was actively trying to get Lestat to choose her as indicated by asking Lestat to go away with her and telling him they didn’t deserve him and he didn’t need them. Though I think she did love Lestat to some extent, I also think there was some indication in the show that she was a bit self-serving (“promises were made”) so again, it reduces her level of sympathy because she wasn’t exactly blinded by love, so to speak.  I know many in the fandom do not consider the sexual relationship cheating, however, it was framed as such when Lestat did not kill her. I understand why Lestat needed her, however, that did create problems in their relationship. Daniel states “there were three of you” so she was very much framed as the other woman, which is a vast contrast from Lily. 

Regarding Lily, I suppose one could look at it like she violated Louis’ trust. But didn't the show give some indication she was aware of their attraction and supported it? Is it possible that Lestat had already been inquiring about Louis and Lily was aware of his intentions? It was always odd to me that Lily would ask a client to sit while already working with another client, especially with the racial dynamics, unless she possibly already knew Lestat would be okay with that. Also, Lestat shamelessly flirted with Lily in front of her and she didn't appear taken back in the slightest, almost like she expected it. She also appeared supportive when she told him “you're his destiny, Louis”. She was well aware of Lestat’s attraction to Louis and his intentions by the time their ménage à trois rolled around,  At that point, she knew they were both queer and obviously interested in each other because they were spending time together.  Is it possible that her telling Louis “I told Mr. Lioncourt you and me mostly talk” could have been her version of playing matchmaker and indicating it was a safe space? She was speaking to Lestat about Louis knowing they both were both already interested in each other; it's not exactly like she was spreading their business around town so I’m not sure they could be considered blowing his cover because that cover was already blown between Lestat and Louis.

All this to say it is understandable why most people are less receptive to Antoinette than Lily. In my unimportant opinion, the dynamics between both relationships are too different to be considered a double standard when people view one more harshlythan the other. I will agree the fandom gives them both too much importance. Neither Lestat or Louis seemed too bothered, or bothered for long, when they were killed.

[…] the fandom gives them both too much importance. Neither Lestat or Louis seemed too bothered, or bothered for long, when they were killed.

👆 That.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Forbidden Library by Django Wexler

Alice always thought fairy tales had happy endings. That--along with everything else--changed the day she met her first fairy

When Alice's father goes down in a shipwreck, she is sent to live with her uncle Geryon--an uncle she's never heard of and knows nothing about. He lives in an enormous manor with a massive library that is off-limits to Alice. But then she meets a talking cat. And even for a rule-follower, when a talking cat sneaks you into a forbidden library and introduces you to an arrogant boy who dares you to open a book, it's hard to resist. Especially if you're a reader to begin with. Soon Alice finds herself INSIDE the book, and the only way out is to defeat the creature imprisoned within.

It seems her uncle is more than he says he is. But then so is Alice.

Troy by Adele Geras

The Siege of Troy has lasted almost ten years. Inside the walled city food is (Malacca). and death is common. From the heights of Mount Olympus The Gods keep watch. But Aphrodite. Goddess of Love. is bored with the endless. dreary war. Aided by Eros's bow. the goddess sends two sisters down a bloody path to an awful truth: In the fury of war. love strikes the deadliest blows.

Casson Family by Hilary McKay

The four Casson children, whose mother, Eve, is a fine-arts painter, have all been given the names of paint colors. Cadmium (Caddy), is the eldest; then Saffron (Saffy); Indigo, the only boy; and Rose, the youngest. When Saffy discovers quite by accident that she has been adopted, she is deeply upset, though the others assure her that it makes no difference at all. Saffy is the daughter of Eve's twin sister, who lived in Siena, Italy, and died in a car crash. Grandad brought Saffy, as a very small child, back from Siena.

At Grandad's death he leaves something to each of the children. To Saffy, it is "her angel," although no one knows its identity. How Saffy discovers what her angel is, with the help of an energetic new friend, lies at the heart of this enchanting story.

Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth by E. L. Konigsburg

A lonely girl discovers a magical world and a new friend when she meets a young witch on Halloween.

Unicorns of Balinor by Mary Stanton

After a terrible riding accident, Ari cannot remember anything of her past and is sent to live on a farm with foster parents. What Ari doesn't know is that she is not from our world, but from Balinor, a land of sorcerers and unicorns! Her parents, the King and Queen, sent her to Earth to protect her from a raging war before they were banished from their homeland. Now Ari--Princess Arianna--has found the road back to Balinor. As she struggles to remember her heritage, she must face the challenge of restoring peace to Balinor.

The Divide by Elizabeth Kay

When Felix and his parents visit the Divide in Costa Rica, a place where the waters that run down to the Pacific and Atlantic oceans separate, he faints and wakes to discover an amazing back-to-front world where mythical creatures are real and humans and science are legend.

Phantom Stallion by Terri Farley

When 13-year-old Samantha returns home to her family′s cattle ranch in Nevada, she′s worried. She moved away two years ago to recover from a bad fall off her beloved mustang, Blackie, and she′s still not sure she can get back in the saddle. Her new colt doesn′t seem to like her, and the other ranchers treat her like the boss′s spoiled daughter, and Blackie has been missing since that fateful day. But that′s just the beginning. When Sam suddenly finds the fate of a mysterious mustang who may or may not be the missing Blackie - resting in her hands, she has to learn to be a real cowgirl, ready or not.

Miri and Molly by Annie Barrows

Miri is the only single child in the middle of a family with two sets of twins--older brothers and younger sisters. When the family moves to an old farmhouse Miri accidentally travels back in time to 1935 only to discover Molly, a girl in need of a real family to call her own.

Sixty-Eight Rooms by Marianne Malone

Almost everybody who has grown up in Chicago knows about the Thorne Rooms. Housed in the Children’s Galleries of the Chicago Art Institute, they are a collection of 68 exquisitely crafted miniature rooms made in the 1930s by Mrs. James Ward Thorne. Each of the 68 rooms is designed in the style of a different historic period, and every detail is perfect, from the knobs on the doors to the candles in the candlesticks. Some might even say, the rooms are magic.

Imagine—what if you discovered a key that allowed you to shrink so that you were small enough to sneak inside and explore the rooms’ secrets? What if you discovered that others had done so before you? And that someone had left something important behind?

Hitler's Daughter by Jackie French

Her name was Heidi, and she was Hitler's daughter.

It began on a rainy morning in Australia, as part of a game played by Mark and his friends. It was a storytelling game, and the four friends took turns weaving tales about fairies and mermaids and horses. But Anna's story was different this time: it was not a fairy tale or an adventure story. The story was about a young girl who lived during World War II. Her name was Heidi, and she was Hitler's daughter.

As Anna's story unfolds, Mark is haunted by the image of Hitler's daughter. He wonders what he would have done in her place if he had known his father was an evil man leading the world into a war that was destroying millions of lives. And if Mark had known, would he have had the power and determination to stop him?