#eve struggles once again

[druggedchicken]

WHY IS FINDING INTERNET FRIENDS SO HARD THESE DAYS PLEASE

i remember posting random stuff on twitter and people would just dm me or comment or stuff and it used to be so fun, what changed

[gree-gon]

picky cat

[crabbypalsart]

When Janet was fairly new into management at Roni's, Bacon made it a point to put up with her snobby behavior and her constant singling out of him. His ability to pick up people's emotions allowed him to determine that she didn't really mean any harm, and figured that she might've just been having a difficult time adjusting.

He saw no reason to escalate any of the conflict. However, with time he began to realize that she treated other people differently than him. She was much more respectful and polite to the other employees, and treated them as equals; she even treated Bits slightly better!

Whatever it was she had been trying to conceal with her seemingly forced hostile behavior, Bacon eventually decided it didn't justify a single ounce of her treatment towards him; so he eventually started returning it to her.

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (3) - ln4

You meet the Norris family, Penelope drops by for a surprise visit, and luckily Christmas Eve goes off without a hitch. Thanks to your amazing skills in everything that comes with being a nanny.

warnings/notes: I, once again, am posting christmas after christmas and i don't care <3 happy hanukkah by the way!! also shout out to my brother who inspired the whole 'athena falling asleep' bit here bc he did this w my baby cousin on christmas eve

(prev | next)

Lando is welcoming in his siblings while you're in the process of finishing up a quick little Christmas Eve dinner. They'd requested nothing crazy, so you'd scoured the internet to find a simple chicken dish, and had Lando go out to buy some games to play with the family. His siblings had all been on the same flight, but with a little rain systems coming through Monaco, his parents flight had been delayed a few hours.

Meaning, you got to be eased into meeting your roommate of barely a weeks family, and spending the holidays with them.

As you finally set down some tin foil over the last few sides, sliding them in the oven on a preheat setting to keep everything warm until Lando's parents arrived, Oliver and Flo poke around the corner to look at you.

You don't notice them studying the way you flow through Lando's kitchen, you're too busy counting over the names Lando had told you--Oliver, Flo, and Cisca, his siblings, you think in that order with Lando ahead of Flo. Then, Savannah, Lando's sister-in-law, and his two nieces Mila and Athena. His parents, Cisca and Adam, though you can't imagine calling them anything other than Mr and Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, guys," Lando's tone is full of smiles, proudly waving an arm to you as you turn around and discard your oven mitts onto the counter, "This is my roommate, Yn."

"Ah!" Oliver smiles, Athena in his hands sraring up at you with wonder in her eyes, "This is the roommate I've heard so much about."

"Oh, god, I hope all good things?" You step around Lando to properly greet each sibling, Savannah, and the girls.

"Lando talks about you a lot." Cisca teases softly, looking over at her brother, who flushed and quickly asked what everyone wanted to drink--safely deterring the conversation. Above everyones scurrying heads into the kitchen, you meet Lando's eyes, and find you can't look away as he crinkles up in a smile before turning to find cups for everyone.

A bit later, Lando runs out to go collect his parents from Nice's airport, leaving you with the siblings. Mila and Athena have taken to exploring the living room under their parents watchful eye as you scour for a good Christmas movie for them--settling on the Grinch after a while, just to have it on in the background. You can tell Athena's getting ready for a nap, but with so much excitement and noise, she seems to be struggling to settle down. Savannah seems a bit flustered, so you take a seat with her on the couch while Flo and Cisca sneak some cookies in the kitchen and gossip.

"So," Oliver starts, "We spent so long catching up with Lando, I never had a chance to ask anything about you."

"Oh, Sorry!" Savannah calls, turning to place a hand on your knee, "Don't want you to feel left out!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright! He's your brother and you said, Savannah, the last time you saw him was Goodwood, which was--what, July?" You say, watching as Cisca and Flo come to the living room, sitting down with their nieces and their toys by the big windows. Savannah offering the girls a thankful smile for taking them off her hands for the time being.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Flo hums, "And Cis and I didn't even see him at Goodwood, we saw him at Silverstone."

"He's so busy with racing, I see why but I still worry for him. He's still just the boy he was when we were young and running amuck through the woods in the middle of nowhere. He had no friends back then, and I worry he isolates himself here too, just blames it on being busy." Oliver leans back, running a hand across his head. You can see the worry for a baby brother he's watched grow clear in his eyes, and Savannah soothes a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

You hum softly, "He's got Max. And Oscar, Charles... Carlos, Alex and George, though I guess George is in London now... a lot of the drivers live close--we actually bought them presents for Christmas. He's got all of Quadrant too."

"And you," Flo prompts, looking up from where Athena tries to grab onto her hair.

"Yeah," you breathe out, turning to Oliver, "And me."

"How'd you meet?" Savannah asks and you smile.

"Max Verstappen, his 'bonus daughter' Penelope is the girl I nanny. I've worked for Kelly since Penelope was maybe three or four months, actually. Just an extra set of hands for her, but now I'm sort of like a housekeep? I watch the apartment when they're gone, cook, clean, help them keep track of everything--the two of them are also so busy." You laugh softly, watching as Athena uses the table to toddle her way over to her parents, Savannah picking up the sleepy toddler and laying her on her chest.

"But, with their baby on the way, the room I was living in is turning into a nursery. They didn't want to move, especially with a whole baby coming, so they helped me find a new place to live. Luckily, I knew Lando... kinda... we never really spoke much before but Penelope adores him so I've been out with Penelope at races or even in Monaco, and run into him."

Savannah watches as Athena scoots out of her hold and climbs across the couch, the curious toddler now taking up space in your lap as you wrap up your explanation, and a place a hand on her back, "So, Lando let me move in. I've pretty much transformed his entire apartment in exchange for the rent he's covering for me."

"I was going to say, it looks a lot better than the last time I was here." Oliver chuckles, Savannah countering with, "Yes, it does. A woman's touch was needed for sure."

"Lando kept asking us all about how to live with a girl," Cisca looks over her shoulder, watching as Flo and Mila move to join you on the couch. Little Athena snuggling into the warm of your hold as you move back.

"I told him it was just like living with sisters," Oliver rolls his eyes, "but he was insistent there was a way to do it wrong."

You laugh softly, imaging the way that he had probably begged for some sort of advice over the phone with his siblings, gently rocking a fussy Athena--who has been refusing her nap since she'd gotten into the apartment almost two hours ago now.

You speak softly, to keep the girl from waking up as she nearly is sleeping, "There really isn't, and I've been moving around so much my whole life I don't really have a set way to live. I kinda just adapt."

Before you can say anything else, the front door opens, and Lando announces he's back. Savannah lifts Athena, who whines, clinging to your shirt, and you shake her off, "I can take her, if it's okay."

"Sure, if it's fine. I wouldn't wanna wake her so close to her falling asleep. Athena loves to cuddle, she's a clinger," Savannah laughs softly, brushing her daughters wild curly hair back. You nod, holding her the way Savannah instructs--missing when Penelope used to be this tiny in your arms.

Lando's parents--Adam and Cisca, are happily talking with their children when you round the corner into the kitchen. Everyone turns with your presence, smiling at the sight of Athena curled in your arms, Mrs. Norris audibly aweing at the scene as you smile.

"Hi, it's really lovely to meet you both," You say softly, stepping over so they can give you hugs and greet their granddaughter who refuses to come out of the comfort she'd found nestled in your chest.

"I'll get the food out," Lando says, "I imagine you're all starving,"

"God, please." Flo whines, Oliver going to help his brother. You linger with the Norris parents in the hall, smiling softly as Athena lets out little snores against the warm fabric of your sweater. Savannah long gone after being dragged off by Mila.

Mrs. Norris moves into the kitchen, laughing as she scolds her sons for stealing bits of food while they bring everything out. The stack of bags and gifts flow down the hall now, the jackets and shoes overflowing the racks, and you can't help but smile at the liveliness of the once empty apartment.

"You're a real charmer," Adam says after a second and your attention is drawn to Mr. Norris. He grins, "Haven't seen Lando this organized in years."

You laugh softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Athena's back, "It's the least I could do for him, considering he won't let me pay rent. He's been really kind to let me live here."

"That's Lando for ya," Adam looks at his son in the kitchen, helping Mila get seated at the table, "He'd give you the skin off his back if he could."

As if sensing you both looking at him, Lando's head perks up, scowling as he comes over. He takes his father's jacket out of his hands and urges him to go get a plate of the food you'd 'slaved over' making all day in the kitchen. You can't help but giggle as he shoos away his father's knowing smile and wave as he goes to join his wife and kids.

"Thanks for saving this whole holiday," Lando looks over at you, catching the way you're already looking at him. A soft smile gracing your lips as you sway the toddler in your arms.

"Your family is lovely," you reply softly, "I'm glad I could do something for them."

Lando's quiet for a moment, the both of you just watching eachother. Turning back when Flo and Cisca start cracking up over some teasing thing Mrs. Norris is saying as Oliver scowls and rebukes whatever she's saying.

"Do you want a plate?" Lando says, "I can get mine last."

"No no, wouldn't want to wake Athena. I can always heat it up after she wakes." You wave a hand, and Lando nods, stepping closer to wipe a crumb off your cheek and brush a piece of hair back into place before Flo calls him over. You wave him on and he goes, making a spectacle about making his way back to the group.

Slowly, you make your way back into the living room, slowly sinking down on the couch and getting comfortable with Athena still snoring in your arms. And as the Norris' carry on in the kitchen, you can help but lay your head back on the cushions, cuddling in to the comfiest position you can find.

You fall asleep around the point Martha May announces her love for the Grinch, and right before Flo brings out Uno for the group at the table to play.

Lando comes over about twenty minutes later, pausing when he sees you knocked out. The rest of the family peeking around the corner as Lando grabs a blanket from the chair in the corner and walks over to where you are--Athena still snuggling into your hold. He gently drapes the blanket over the two of you, grabbing a pillow to lay under your head so your neck isn't killing you in the morning, and just takes a pause to sit next to you.

His eyes travel down your hair, to your closed eyes, parted lips, the soft breaths that leave you. The way Athena has tucked herself against your chest like she just knows you're safety, that you know how to take care of her. He lifts the blanket a little higher, resists the urge to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, and stands.

No one moves fast enough for him to not catch them staring.

"Looked like you were gonna kiss her for a second," His father chimes. Lando feels heat rise to his cheeks as his siblings laugh and he just waves away their comments as he comes back to play the game with them.

When Athena stumbles in to cuddle her mom about thirty minutes later, he peeks out to see you still asleep on the couch and tilts his head. Oliver leaning on the wall leaning into the living room as Lando steps forward, tucks his arms underneath you and carefully lifts you. It's not graceful by any means, but when your eyes flutter and you settle in as he holds his breath, Oliver bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at Lando.

"I'll get the door." Oliver says, nodding his head to where the spare bedroom is. His whole family pretends not to see him nearly whack your head into the wall when he brings you into your room and lays you on the bed. Mrs. Norris does come to ensure her son has you tucked in properly, with the blinds lowered to block out the setting sun as you curl up in your bed.

"Poor thing, she's absolutely knackered." She hums, waving Oliver out of the room as Lando sheepishly rubs his neck, walking over to her.

"She cooked all day, and we've spent the week decorating everything," his voice is soft as he looks over at your sleeping form in the bed, before his mother pulls him out of the room to shut the door.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." She winks knowingly at him, earning a shy laugh from Lando as she brings him back over to the table to keep playing games.

You do manage to get up and freshen up around nine, after his family has left to sleep off their jetlag. Lando's sitting on the couch with--surprisingly to you, Penelope.

"Max dropped her off, he and Kelly have dinner with their parents and P was supposedly exhausted." Lando pokes the girls cheek, but you can see she's clearly wide awake, sheepishly smiling up at you as you chuckle to yourself.

"I'm sure she was," You chime, sitting down at the counter as Penelope climbs up to sit next to you, leaning on you and looking up at you through her long lashes.

"I just didn't wanna go." Penelope admits softly, "All everyone's been talking about is the baby. I don't care about the stupid baby, I wish it was just me again, and I didn't have to fight this little thing in my Mommy's belly for some attention."

You hum, rubbing a hand up and down Penelope's back. She'd been complaining to you about the baby since you'd gotten back to Monaco, and you'd brought it up to Max and Kelly already. From the time spent in their apartment with them, you knew it wasn't their fault Penelope was feeling this way--after her first complaint. They'd both apologized to her, and explained it to her, and after that Penelope had been fine for a while.

But having every single person in your extended family fawning over the unborn baby in your mothers stomach--buying him tons of gifts and clothes, things Penelope was used to be doted onto her, the shift had to feel weird.

"Max and Kelly still love you," it's Lando who chimes from the couch, groaning as he stands up and stretched out his shoulders, "It's been hard for them with the baby coming, and you know how much the baby needs."

Penelope nods and you pout. Usually, Christmas Eve was reserved for the Verstappen-Piquets to spend the entire night together. But it seemed every one of their traditions had been tossed aside.

"How about this," you say softly, "I have some stuff left over to bake. Why don't you, Lando, and I make some cookies for Santa, hm? We can leave them out at your apartment when I drop you off."

Penelope does light up at that and agrees, so as Lando helps her get supplies, you finish shoveling your dinner into your mouth before standing to help them with baking.

By the end of it, after Penelope's roped you and Lando into a flour fight you know is going to be a disaster to clean up, you and Lando end up carrying up a sleeping Penelope and a plate of cookies. Max laughs softly at the sight of the three of you covered in flour, and Kelly thanks you both for staying up later to watch her.

When you return to Lando's apartment, the two of you elect to finish watching whatever movie is playing on the tv. And the quiet moment, broken by occasionally showing each other something on your phones or asking questions about this absolutely absurd 80s christmas movie, just fills the home with a sense of warmth you aren't expecting to feel.

It almost makes you not want to go to bed, but alas, the Norris' are coming back over in the morning, so you two duck off to bed eventually--hesitating to part due to the invisible magnet that holds you close.

SEE NOTES ABOUT TAG LISTS BELOW:

general tag list (open, tagged in all my fics, will not update for this series. If you'd like to be added to my general list FOR this series, let me know and I'll tag you in the comments!

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins

series specific tag (closed BUT SEE BELOW!!)

@nikfigueiredo @ilovechickenwings @supertrashbread @sltwins @mwuaferrari @si1ver06 @linnygirl09 @kikiki81 @kittylolly4 @lazybot @tylerstacobell @formula1fordisaster @sheblogs @suns3treading @kqliie @jxnellat @anxiousbananna @hard4ndsoft @majasophieanna @diorbrxtz @freyathehuntress @obxstiles @cstads-blog @wierdflowerpower @delululeclerc @honethatty12 @henna006 @chlmtfilms @littlegrapejuice @piastrams @ravisinghs-wife @sturmatt @sagestack @bravo-delta-eccho @eiffel-hood @widow-cevans @ash88-yep @emryb @changetyre @raynetargaryan2 @callsignsiren @mayusaatma @sid-is-gr8  @awritingtree @urstepdaughter @4-ln4

TO BE TAGGED IN COMMENTS OF EACH NEW CHAPTER:

@celestrablack @hadids-world @keij0h @annimausi

(thank you to all the new people (and my return readers ofc), and everyone who has left such kind words!! happy holidays to you all <3)

[mugglebornmarvelite]

New Year, Still His Sunshine

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: As the Avengers ring in the New Year, Bucky Barnes struggles with jealousy and admiration for you, the team’s resident ray of sunshine. Amid the chaos, Bucky's protective instincts kick in when someone makes you uncomfortable. But as the night unfolds, Bucky discovers that he might not be as immune to your light as he once thought.

Word Count: Roughly 1.4k 

Warnings: Fluff, protective Bucky, suggestive content, one curse word (at least I think so)

Author’s Note: Happy New Year! I hope this brings a little warmth to your day. If it’s still New Year’s Eve for you, have another drink. Even if it’s not, have another drink, you totally deserve it 🥂

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

The party was in full swing at the Avengers Tower, the New Year’s Eve atmosphere buzzing with excitement as music thumped and laughter echoed through the Tower. Ever the extravagant host, Tony Stark had outdone himself yet again, turning the space into a sparkling wonderland of lights and glamour. 

Everyone was dressed to the nines, including you, wearing a purple dress that flowed around you like water, the delicate fabric catching the light with every twirl.

Wanda had insisted on taking you dress shopping, and Natasha came too, not entirely trusting Wanda's creative judgment. The last time, she bought you a bright orange dress you couldn’t even sit in.

You were radiant, your purple dress catching the light as you moved with effortless grace. Its daring cut turned heads, but your sunshine-like presence and your infectious laughter truly stole the spotlight. 

At least for him.

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he watched you, his sharp blue eyes narrowing when a cocky junior agent approached. 

Steve and Sam caught the way Bucky’s gaze darkened.  

“You’re staring,” Steve teased, nudging his best friend.  

“Go talk to your girl,” Sam chimed in, grinning. “It won’t kill you, Barnes.”  

Bucky grunted in response, forcing himself to look away. 

“She’s fine,” he muttered, though his clenched fists betrayed him.  

But then the junior agent got too close. The kid leaned in, his smirk too smug, his tone too slick. You smiled politely, but Bucky could see the shift in your demeanor. The way your bubbly confidence dimmed slightly as you stepped back, you were uncomfortable but too sweet to be harsh. 

That was his last straw.  

Bucky pushed off the wall and strode over, his imposing presence making the agent step back instinctively. “You got something to say; you say it to me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and menacing.  

The agent stammered, backing away under Bucky’s glare. “N-no, sir, I was just-”  

“Leaving,” Bucky finished for him. The kid didn’t need to be told twice.  

“Bucky, I was fine,” you said softly once the agent scurried off, but your voice wavered.  

Bucky turned to face you fully, his hard expression softening the moment he saw the unshed tears in your eyes. 

“Hey, none of that,” he murmured, his voice dropping so only you could hear. “You cry; I might actually have to hurt someone, yeah?”  

You blinked up at him, surprised by the rare gentleness in his tone. “I wasn’t going to cry,” you sniffled, though your voice betrayed you.  

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, raising a brow as he reached out and brushed a gloved hand against your cheek, drying the corner of your eye.  

Your lips twitched into a weak smile. “You don’t have to be so mean on my behalf. I could have told him off.”  

“Yes, I do,” he said bluntly. “You’re too nice to people.”  

“That’s not a bad thing,” you replied, your smile softening.  

“It is when they don’t deserve it,” he countered, his voice gruff but protective.  

You let out a small laugh, the sound warming something cold and guarded inside him. 

His heart.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said.  

“And you’re fucking annoying and you drive me mad, sunshine,” he retorted, though there was no real bite to his words. He paused, his eyes meeting yours. “But I like you better when you’re smiling. So go back to that, will you?”  

You grinned up at him, your sunshine fully restored. You leaned in and wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug. “Thanks, Bucky.”  

He stiffened for half a second before awkwardly patting your back. “Yeah, yeah. Go on before I change my mind.”  

You laughed and skipped off to rejoin Natasha and Wanda, leaving Bucky standing there, watching you with a look that was equal parts exasperation and fondness.  

Steve walked up to him, a knowing smirk on his face. “So, you’re not interested, huh?”  

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky muttered, but his gaze remained on you, a quiet thought slipping through his mind. 

Yeah, I’m definitely a goner.

Not long after, you escaped to the rooftop to see the fireworks. You leaned against the cold metal railing, your purple dress rippling behind you. The hum of the party inside felt miles away as you stared up at the sky. Your thoughts drifted, the quiet of the night offering you a moment of solitude to reflect.

Your year full of chaos, obstacles and laughter. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You sighed, a small smile gracing your lips.

The faint thud of boots echoed and a shadow fell over you. You didn’t need to turn to know it was Bucky. He had that presence about him that was strong and unwavering.

“Thought I might have found you here,” he said, his voice warm as he stood beside you. His eyes swept over the horizon, almost as if he were scared to meet your eyes. 

You glanced up at him with a playful smile. "You coming out to watch the fireworks, or did you just need some space?"  

Bucky didn’t answer right away. 

Instead, the night's first fireworks erupted above you, lighting the sky in a dazzling cascade of colors.

Without a word, Bucky pulled off his leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders. The warmth of it was immediate, cocooning you in its familiar scent of worn leather and his cologne, something uniquely him.  

"You looked cold," he muttered, his voice softer than usual. 

He didn’t meet your gaze; his eyes still trained on the fireworks display. But you could feel his gaze on you.  

A soft smile tugged at your lips. "Thanks, Bucky."  

As the fireworks continued, bursting overhead in bright, colorful explosions, you stood a little closer to him.

"You're not going to drag me back inside, are you?" you asked softly. 

You turned slightly to face him, feeling bolder than you normally would. Bucky’s gaze flicked to you. But after a beat, his lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. 

"Not yet," he said, his voice rough and kind. "But don’t get used to it."  

You grinned, a fluttering excitement making your pulse quicken. Turning fully toward him, your heart raced as the fireworks painted the sky. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes for just a second before you leaned up on your tiptoes and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.  

Bucky froze, his body stiffening in surprise. But he didn’t push you off. Instead, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, deepening the kiss just for a moment before he pulled back a fraction.  

“Well,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, “looks like you’ve finally lost your mind. Congratulations.”  

You grinned against his lips, cheeks flushed with heat. "Maybe I just like the way you look at me."  

Bucky’s gaze softened, the harsh edges of his usual guarded demeanor momentarily cracking. He reached up, his thumb grazing your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip. 

“I’m gonna have to kill the guy who ever hurts you, sunshine,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You smiled, tilting your head back to watch the final round of fireworks exploding in the sky. "Good thing that guy’s not around."  

Bucky’s arm instinctively tightened around your shoulders, pulling you close as he tucked you into his side.  

"Happy New Year, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice soft against your ear.

"Happy New Year, Bucky," you whispered back, your heart fluttering.

Bucky leaned in and kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring the quiet intimacy between you. When he pulled away, his eyes were darker as he cursed.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "You’ve got me all twisted up, sunshine," he muttered.

You smiled, your cheeks warm despite the chill. "Is that a bad thing?" 

"Not even close," he said, a rare, genuine smile softening his features. 

You shivered and he noted how you were still cold, even with his jacket. 

"Inside. You’re not going to freeze that cute little ass of yours off tonight," he said, his voice gruff but caring as he stepped back.  

"But-"  

"No, buts," Bucky cut you off, his tone final. His hand shot out, gently but firmly, wrapping around your wrist. "Come on. I’m not letting you stand out here like this any longer."  

You grinned up at him. “Fine, but can we at least go to your room?”  

Bucky shot you a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His lips curled into an amused smile.

"You’re lucky I like you, kid," he muttered, pulling you along as he steered you away from the rooftop and back into the warmth of the building. 

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy New Year!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[yelenasdiary]

soft fluffy nat where the two of you are in love with each other but haven’t confessed. nat is superrrr into the holidays like it surprises everyone but she’s proud of it. she knows you haven’t had the best christmas previous years and she’s determined to make this the best one for you. she loves everything like baking (nat cannot cook that is canon but i honestly think she could bake lowkey😭) putting up the christmas tree in the compound and decorating it. she’s just super soft around christmas and you just fall even more in love with her. you share sweet moments together throughout the days leading up to christmas and eventually the two of you confess and ugh i love soft nat i miss her

Waiting Under The Mistletoe

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Natasha have been struggling to admit your feelings for one another.

Fluff, Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know! | 1.2K

AC: Happy Christmas Eve!!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

It was that time of year again, Christmas. The time of year where you felt more of a burden than a blessing, but this year felt different already. The compound had turned from its usual dark grey vibe to bursts of festive spirit and colors. As you walked the hall towards the large meeting room, your eyes took in how perfectly the decorations were hung, compliments to Wanda, so you thought.

“Hey!” Natasha called out, making you stop in your tracks as you turned to face her. She smiled softly at you, “on your way to the meeting?” She asked. 

“Hopefully the last one for the year!” You chuckled as the two of you slowly began to continue the walk to the others. “What do you say we put the Christmas tree up afterwards?” Black Widow asked, making you cock a brow at her. 

“You want to put the tree up?” You asked, intrigued. 

“Of course, I mean, I already decorated half the compound over night” she replied proudly. 

“Wait, you did all this?” You stopped in your tracks once more, surprised by Natasha’s hidden love for the Christmas season. Natasha chuckled, “who do you think did all this?” 

“Wanda” you replied without a second thought. 

“Wanda is Jewish” the red head reminded you. 

“Yeah but she’s always making sure we’re together for Christmas dinner so I just assumed. You love Christmas? That’s kinda cute” you smiled softly. Natasha’s eyes dropped nervously as her iconic smirk tugged at her lips, “so I’ll take that as a yes?” She said, looking back up at you. 

“Alright, but I’m warning you, my tree decorating skills are horrible” you replied.

“I’ll take my chances” Nat playfully winked as the two of you entered the conference room.

It was hard to focus on anything Fury was saying during the meeting with your mind so focused on Natasha and the way her eyes were glued to the piece of paper in front of her, she was always good at putting life aside for work. Outside this room, she was a softy with a love for Christmas but inside the room she was Black Widow, listening to every single word that was said in the meeting with clear understanding. 

Once Fury added his last words, the room was dismissed. Nat looked over at you and smiled softly, “ready to put those horrible tree decorating skills to the test?” She teased making you chuckle lightly. 

“Are you ready for them?” You asked. 

“Like I said, I’ll take my chances, lets go!” 

----

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s enthusiasm; it was infectious as you watched her wrap the LED fairy lights around the fake tree while she hummed her favorite Christmas classic softly to herself. With the others hovering around, picking at the baked goodies Nat had baked last night while watching the tough Black Widow decorate a Christmas tree, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for her.

The room echoed with chatter from those around you, but all you could focus on was Natasha. She caught your eye and for a moment, the noise faded. “Now that the lights are on, help yourself to that box of ornaments and get decorating!” She smiled softly. Her soft tone snapping you back to reality as you gave her a playful grin. 

“I hope you’re ready for this Romanoff!” You teased, reaching for some of the ornaments in the box beside you. She shot back a smile, “are you sure you know where they go?” She asked in a teasing tone. 

“Ha, ha!” You replied sarcastically as you closed the small gap between you and the tree. Natasha stood back for a brief moment to watch you place the first ornament on the tree, she admired the way you took a second to think about where you wanted each ornament to be placed, hanging them on different branches before giving yourself a nod of approval. 

The two of you spent the afternoon hanging ornaments on the large tree and wrapping it in shimmering tinsel that sparkled softly against the fairy lights. Nat still softly hummed her favorite Christmas tunes, and you weren’t sure how long it was until they caught you in their trap. The two of you humming softly while twirling around each other. 

The days leading up to Christmas slipped by in a blur of laughter and sweet moments, each day your feelings growing stronger for the avenger, as if they could get any stronger. From Natasha sweet talking you into baking with her to helping her wrap presents for the others. Every moment felt more magical than the last. 

On Christmas Eve, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching holiday movies with the room dimly lit and the tree twinkling softly in the corner. Natasha looked at you for a moment and for that moment, time stood still. 

“Everything okay?” You asked, your cheeks feeling warm. 

“Yeah” she smiled softly, “everything is perfect” she added.

----

Christmas morning, you woke up to the sound of laughter echoing through the compound. You couldn’t believe you had slightly slept in, you rushed down the stairs where you found Natasha already locking eyes with you. She smiled softly, “good morning sleepy head” she greeted. 

“You didn’t wake me?” You questioned, almost forgetting there were others in the room. 

“Come here” she replied softly, her eyes sparkling from the tree beside her. 

You stepped closer, your heart racing as you realized what was hanging above the redhead. Your cheeks flushed under her glaze as you closed the gap between you two. “I’ve been waiting for this” she said, her voice soft like marshmallows. “I want to tell you something” she paused, her expression shifting ever so slightly. 

“These last few weeks have made me the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time and it’s because I got to spend every moment with you” she started, smiling softly. “You make me so happy, I love everything we have shared since we met. I’ve been too afraid to say anything to you because I’d hate myself if I ruined what we already have but, I’m so deeply in love with you that not telling you was driving me crazy. Last night, I wanted to kiss you and tell you but I didn’t want to ruin the moment” she added. 

The room fell silent, time standing still as you processed her words. You pinched yourself wondering if you were still asleep, dreaming of a different life but the pain was very much real and the woman you adored was standing in front of you, under a mistletoe, telling you how she felt. 

“I love you too” you finally said, your voice slightly breaking with emotions, “I’ve wanted to say that for so long” you added. 

A smile broke on Nat’s face, her hands gently placed on your hips as she pulled you closer. “Merry Christmas” she whispered before her lips pressed against yours, making sure you knew that she meant every single word. Kissing you deeply, the two of you not caring that half the compound just watched everything unfold. 

“Best Christmas ever” you whispered against her lips, her arms wrapped around you. She smiled softly, “agreed”.

Taglist:  @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @angel68104 | @x-natsarrownecklace-x | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @anonwhowrites | @itsmelulu | @koinsss | @cigarsandscotchallday | @nuianced-tck-enby | @springsheep | @prentgarcialuvr | @stayevildarling | @mommysgoodlittlebrat | @marvelnatasha12346 | @mrromanoff | @starryskiesandboys | @ddreader04 | @ahintofchaos | @bleachxbunny | @acciowriting | @hyper-fixated-delusions | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 32. uno reverse

chapter tags/warnings: aftercare. mentions of cum and creampies. other sexual content. nicknames. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.9k

notes: the last chapter was 97% smut. oops. plot? literally, what plot? well, here is the plot. also, happy new year's eve and new years! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

With sweat stuck onto your forehead and spit plastered across your chin, you panted like an overheated dog. Such were the consequences of dealing with too many hands, cocks, and men.

After the sinful fiasco with your sex therapists, your body quivered from exhaustion.

Not to mention, you had been stuffed.

Holding in a potent cum concoction within your womb, you did your best to keep the fluids in, but the sheer volume forced a slow dribble to slide down your plush inner thighs.

You winced from the unwelcome cool against your warm skin, feeling flustered, frazzled, and disheveled.

Sukuna thumbed the dried tears that streaked your cheeks, Geto carded his hand through your hair, and Choso massaged the sore spots on your soft ass, all cooing about how you’ve been an angel for them and that maybe…you all should find time to do this again.

When the three dressed themselves and stepped out eventually for a cigarette, they left you looking at your window reflection, in which you noticed how makeup smudged across your cheeks and how fluids coated your neck and chest.

Never had you felt this...deranged.

Yet, absolutely nothing could be compared to the hot mess that was the Toji Fushiguro whom you straddled.

The man lolled his head back with a low groan and ran his thick fingers through his scalp. His dark strands had become drenched in perspiration and clung to his face's rugged planes. Blistering in his formal attire, he tossed his charcoal blazer aside, undid his knotted tie, and stripped off his button-down. His chest, dusted in a healthy pink shade, heaved. After his pleasure, he still looked like a Greek god in his shame.

Despite all your egregious encounters with him, you still flushed when seeing his bare-chested body. His formalwear might be different from his usual black T-shirt and white lab coat, but he hadn't really changed. He was still fit and subtly edgy with the designs that swirled around his chiseled upper body.

Amid the tattooed tapestry, your gaze once again became drawn by the inked phoenix that rose victoriously from ashes, a symbol that seemed like a parallel to Toji himself. Resilient. Indestructible. Enduring. Both confronting and overcoming challenges, standing stronger and more determined despite their struggles. Each feather branded across his torso held wordless stories about not only his triumphs but also his scars.

“Princess likes what she sees?”

Toji's sudden interjection surprised you. Fuck, he's caught me staring.

After you ogled at his body for too long, the man had naturally taken note, and—with you, of course—he simply had to tease.

"Your tattoos suit you," you had been forced to admit. Not that you lied.

In response, his green eyes held a gentle glister that contrasted with his animalistic actions mere moments ago. "That’s cute. Thank you."

He reached over your shoulder for a tissue and dabbed at your collarbone.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning you up," answered Toji promptly. With the napkin, he soaked up sins, wiping away at the unholy mixture between sweat, spit, and semen as though they never tainted your perfect body in the first place. "That's the least I can do."

He worked in silence, slightly hunched in his seat, the scattered light from the above chandelier casting sharp shadows over his angular face. Wisps of jet-black hair framed his temples as he hung his head in focus, his breathing turning steady. Toji looked so normal, like he wasn't some sex therapist or some important corporate executive or an heir to a multi-billion fortune.

In this one, singular moment, Toji was just...Toji.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked suddenly.

"Doing what?" Mistakenly, he assumed you referred to how he sought another napkin, this time to wipe at the trickle that ran like white lava down your thighs. “We made a mess."

"No, not that. Why did you become my therapist?" Of course, you did not forget your first encounter with Dr. Fushiguro, particularly how Toji ripped your new patient form to literal shreds the moment he noticed your last name. “You could've kicked me out of your office that day and left me miserable, but you didn't. Why?"

He slowed in his motions and his hot breath skimmed over your upper lip.

Then, he smiled faintly. "Can I abstain?"

This was his hint that the answer wouldn’t be something you liked.

"No." You still wanted to know. "Tell me, please."

Despite your reassurance, he seemed reluctant, his jaw working as he trapped his tongue piercing between his teeth.

"Because you were too…innocent," Toji eventually admitted. He sounded earnest, but he gave you a cautious glance like he wanted to gauge your reaction. "A pretty lady coming to see Toji Fushiguro because his little cousin Naoya Zenin couldn't please you properly? Clearly, you've never had a proper fuck. I wanted to completely ruin you, baby. I wanted to use you. And, shit, that pussy made me want to keep you for myself forever. Sure, I also had a two-timing ex, but who cares about my little cousin's mistress when I had his wife in front of me?"

Even though you braced for a brutally honest response, hearing his words firsthand stung.

Yes, you were naïve back then. However, to hear your closest confidant admit his initial, manipulative motives jabbed at your sensitive heart.

From your husband to your therapist, you were constantly a pawn on another person's chessboard. Yet, the worst part was that you didn't notice the game until much later.

"I am sorry," Toji started again. Perceptive as usual, he noticed how your mood suddenly soured. "I had all these shitty intentions because Naoya fucked me over, so I wanted to take my anger out on you. But, when I realized that you’re just an oblivious puppet in his play, I wanted him to realize that he was mistreating you, and," one long exhale, "most importantly, I truly did want to help you."

Mulling over his words carefully, you sank your face into his shoulder. "Are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

“No, I am being honest," and the dark green in his eyes reflected that. "I didn't expect to ever see you again after our first session. Thought you got scared off for good until you called me to book another appointment. Honestly, at that point, people suspected you to be Naoya’s lap-bitch and spy. Hope that explains the shitty attitudes from the other therapists and my son." Toji flicked the dirty tissue into the wastebasket. "I defended you, though, if that means anything. I thought you were nice and entertaining and, as I've pointed out numerous times, that you deserved better. What I didn't think was how I would end up bringing you into," and he motioned around with his head, "all of this.”

Breathing in slowly, you took in the man's heavy bergamot scent and allowed his warmth to anchor you.

“So, how do you plan to use me now?”

Among your incessant inquiries, this question must be the most pointed.

Toji, realizing this, gazed ahead. Momentarily, you wondered where his thoughts had wandered off to this time, his focus on the ceiling sharpening for a moment before he reverted his attention back.

"There is no plan to ‘use’ you, sweetheart. Because you mean a lot to me," he still responded with great conviction. "You are cherished."

Beneath the rough edges in his features laid a softness—a softness that you started to become familiar with—as he brought his hands to your hip.

“Live a happy life without Naoya," he added eventually. "You don't need me and the other therapists anymore. Only brokenhearted and anguished people are our clients, so forgetting about us should be easy."

Was it wrong to feel even more hurt when you heard that?

Literally one moment ago, Toji was telling you how much you meant to him. Now, he was telling you to go?

"Client or not, I thought we were friends. You even told me once that I'm somebody special."

“You are," he responded matter-of-factly. "You are very special. Which is why I am not going to force you to hang around or anything. That way you don’t think anyone is ‘using’ you. You're young and capable, and I want you to live your life as you wish.” Then, his voice became uncharacteristically soft. “Because I care about you.”

As nonchalant as he tried to come off, Toji also sounded so...broken.

Plenty of people—plenty of women—came in and out of Toji's life. Megumi had said so himself, admitting that his father used to 'sleep around a bunch' after his biological mother passed.

Since then, Toji had probably gotten used to how the women he encountered only wanted him for his name, his wallet, or—yes, to put things bluntly—his dick. Tsumiki's mom would be the best and most recent example.

But, you wanted to heal Toji as much as Toji had healed you.

"There's something Megumi told me the first time I stayed over at your apartment," you began suddenly.

Toji arched a brow, the tendons by his neck taut. "Is that so?" Knowing his angsty son, he sounded curious but moreso concerned. "Like what?"

'Are you going to marry my dad?'

No, you would die from embarrassment before you could admit that.

"Megumi told me about what happened to his mom, your first wife."

"Ah." Beneath you, Toji tensed up. His tongue darted over his scar like he wanted to continue, but no words came out.

So, he stopped and waited for you to continue.

"I...am really sorry to hear about what happened to her."

In the end, Toji tilted his head, a small but obviously sad smile playing on his lips.

"That's years ago." He tried to sound like losing his first wife in a freak accident didn't haunt him anymore, but you knew that the catastrophe still did.

"Well, Megumi also told me about what your relationships with other women were like since then," you resumed. "Particularly about your second wife."

This time, you truly stumped him. "I see."

"Unlike her, I am not going anywhere," you asserted and tightened your hold around him. "No one is forcing that decision upon me, either. Since you want me to 'live my life as I wish,' my wish is for us to be friends for a long time...and for the same reasons friends want to be friends."

"Is that genuinely what you want?"

"Yes. Truly."

Whether due to your common backgrounds in the Japanese aristocracy or the juxtaposition he offered to your ex-husband, Toji had become your haven. He grounded you after your emotional tumbles and uplifted you with compliments and praise—like an anchor, an unyielding outlet with whom you could share your pains and transform your frustrations into something lesser.

Whenever you had needed him most, Toji had been there.

Always there.

Consequently, you hoped to be the same for him.

When Toji cupped your jaw with a large hand, you slowly pressed your cheek into his palm.

“You care a lot about others but forget to think about yourself,” you went on, criticizing him in a light tone. There was also a question that you had been meaning to ask. “Like, why did you agree to take on the CEO position again after experiencing the Zenin family and your past?”

His fingers flexed slightly into your skin.

“My decision is not about the people who wronged me, but rather the people who depend on me,” he clarified after a beat, his voice lowered like he confided in himself as much as in you. “I look at Mai and Maki, who’ve been treated like garbage their entire lives. I think about Megumi and Tsumiki, who deserve a world with the best opportunities. For them and for others, I want to create a future with something better. ”

Which reminds you.

For the therapists, taking on renewed roles within the Zenin Corporation would be concerning given that they have previously faced accusations of neglecting the business in favor of their own pursuits.

“What will happen to sex therapy?”

Naoya Zenin returned to his apartment lobby tossed (yes, tossed) following a blindfolded car ride home.

To some degree, he wished he hadn’t come back at all since—after retrieving his phone and searching the Internet—he discovered a new reality where media spokespeople, online netizens, and business leaders welcomed his cousin’s return to leadership while denouncing his own.

It was like the universe had been waiting to have Naoya reckon with his misconducts all at once, for he never fully understood the consequences of his sins until his face appeared over news websites, tabloid front pages, and social media feeds.

Even when he had business to attend to the following day, he could hardly push past his apartment entrance without being swarmed by meddlers who somehow had gotten intel on his address. Naturally, many people wanted to hear directly from the businessman who had fallen from grace, especially when the company he once led was one of the largest market players in the Asia-Pacific region. First came the paparazzi, the blinding white flashes from their cameras all seeking to capture his face. Then came the other onlookers, jeering with many insults his way.

‘A scumbag is what you are. A disgusting cheater!’ ‘You don't even deserve a penny of your net worth!” ‘Your company, colleagues, and family deserved better!’ 'Someone like Toji Fushiguro!'

The moment Naoya reached the backseat of his sedan, he smashed his phone in one savage blow, startling the chauffeur as the gadget's screen shattered. Didn’t matter. He had the money to replace that by noon anyway.

Meanwhile, with white-gloved hands on the wheel, the driver tried to hide his tremor.

"A-Are you o—"

"To the corporate headquarters," Naoya ordered. "Put your fucking foot on the pedal or the next thing I'll be blowing up is you."

"Yes."

Well, that shut him up.

Thanks to that, Naoya arrived at the Zenin Corporation headquarters in record-breaking time, but he encountered yet another human barrage. People shouted over one another, some even pushing microphones toward his face, as the crowd followed him like a gaggle of geese while he walked into the lobby.

He frowned when his ID badge failed at the security turnstiles, his access removed from the building's security system already. Just two days ago, he held hours-long meetings in the offices above. Now, two days later, he had been deemed an outsider without access to even the company café on the first floor.

He kicked the turnstile (as if that would change anything), and a steely voice interrupted his anger.

"Naoya Zenin, sir," a woman in a security uniform began, "you are no longer with the corporation and are causing a disturbance. Please, leave."

The blonde snapped his badge back into his palm before tucking both hands into the front pockets of his pressed pants. He sauntered forward slowly, making sure that the woman noticed the difference in their height. "No, I won't. I have an appointment."

"Please," she barged in again, unintimidated by his taller frame. Her voice this time was more stern as she glanced over at the nearby swarm. "You're creating a commotion on private property.”

Did he look like he cared? "My family's private property."

"Sir, I—"

"He’s with me." With a third voice joining the conversation, both turned around as no one other than Toji Fushiguro himself walked over. "I invited him for a private meeting. Allow me to escort him."

The antagonism that the security woman had with Naoya vanished completely as she apologized profusely to the older man, and the blonde found her switch in character fucking deplorable and insulting.

After a brief exchange, Toji looked over. “Thank you for arriving on time. I was worried you missed my text since I sent the message very early in the morning. Let me bring you upstairs.”

Despite receiving a smile, Naoya didn’t like the belittling and patronizing tone that made him feel like a child who needed a chaperone or a beggar who needed a savior.

Nonetheless, he followed in tense silence.

When he walked into the designated conference room, Naoya tried to not look surprised to also see his father and your father in the same vicinity as well (although, given that they were the Board Director and the Chief Operating Officer, respectively, that should’ve been expected).

He had to look away from their cold gazes and instead took the seat closest to the door. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

Toji, on the other hand, settled at the head of the table and crossed one leg over his knee. “This meeting is a courtesy​​. One you don’t deserve but here we are. We’ll be brief.” He leaned across the table, sliding over a sleek black folder. “Later today, the Zenin Corporation will hold a press conference to address our organizational and management changes. In this binder are terms for your settlement. We would like you to accept the proposal, leave, and never associate yourself with the Zenin name again.”

When Naoya saw the documents inside, he wanted to laugh right then and there. “This is a shitty offer that practically gives me nothing.”

What else did you expect? Toji’s unwavering expression seemed to say.

He even opened his mouth to speak, but a much coarser voice spoke first.

"Because you did that to yourself,” Naobito explained. “As of now, your actions have stripped you of everything and you’re still scoffing at someone else’s generosity? You’re a selfish manipulator who has jeopardized our stakeholders’ trust. Our family name will not tolerate your presence moving forward!"

"Listen, Father—"

"Mr. Zenin to you!"

Naoya could not believe he was related to the much older man in front of him. Except for their common features, the duo shared absolutely nothing including warmth for each other.

Which, to the blonde, was ridiculous. Because how could his parent not view the situation from his lens? No one understood the struggles that tormented him since his childhood and the reasons his anguish turned into greed.

"This isn’t fair.” Naoya’s voice rose, trembling with barely contained anger as he shoved the folder away. “I can’t understand you, Fa—Mr. Zenin. Why? Why does everything that Toji touches turn to gold in your eyes? The world welcomes him back like he’s a prodigy, and you hand him everything on a silver platter. But then, why can’t you defend your one and only son in a situation like this? Anything…anything I do, to you, is not enough.”

With his chest heaving, Naoya had to pause and catch his breath. He didn’t want to admit that he was on the verge of another outburst, only to be met with no sympathy in return.

"You and Toji have never been in the same position. Not now, not before, and not ever.” As the Chairman made himself clear, his voice cut through his son’s rant like a blade. “While no one is perfect, Toji—in the past and present—earns respect by owning his failures and proving his worth. Due to his team’s work in the last twenty-four hours, he stabilized the company, helping us avoid an immense drop in our market value and cancellations from our business partners.” In addition to his utter disregard for his son’s feelings, Naobito even mocked him with a scoff. “Meanwhile, you don’t play by the rules, boy. You exploit them to suit your needs, and when something backfires, you blame everyone but yourself. Toji didn’t come back because I handed him anything. He came back because he knows how to make amends.”

Stop.

Naoya wanted this mental torture to come to a fucking stop.

His father’s scorn was bad enough, but the comparison to Toji—always Toji—was like salt ground into an open wound. What made the situation a hundred times more humiliating was how his older cousin sat across the table with a nearly indiscernible smirk on his face.

Yet, what could he realistically do when the Chairman went on?

“In my entire life, I only requested from you one thing,” Naobito added. ‘Power and money did not interest him when compared to his daughter, so the one promise I made is that you would love her.’ “And what did you do?”

Precisely not that.

The pointed change in topic made Daisuke L/N sit forward uncomfortably.

"Be honest with us, Naoya," he said. "Aside from marrying my daughter to legitimize your position in your family and company, what other intentions did you have?"

The man stared ahead with a solemn expression because, in that moment, he wasn’t the Zenin Corporation’s Chief Operating Officer but merely a father.

A father who had been promised a dependable and loving son-in-law, not a cruel and ruthless deceiver.

Naoya shrugged.

"My original plan was to have your daughter for as long as I deemed her useful. Maybe until my old man kicked the bucket and I became the head of the Zenin household? Or, if I liked her enough, maybe longer? I don't know, not that I really cared." Naoya didn't give a shit that he sounded like a total sociopath. As a grown man, he could make his choices in speech. "But, what I did care about is how people only noticed me when I had that…that—"

At that, Toji had to cut him off. “You’ve said enough. We’re done here.”

“I’m not finished.”

“Yes, you are. As I mentioned earlier, this meeting is only a courtesy.”

Toji rose from his seat and adjusted his blazer, the other executives doing the same but with pursed frowns. When the Chairman and the COO left quickly in silent rage, Toji followed them and gestured toward the black folder again on his way out.

"Anyway, all the legal documents are in there. Can read through them, if you care. You have the next hour to inform my secretary of your decision. My advice is to accept our offer since no legitimate company in the Asia-Pacific—or anywhere else in the world—will want you now. You ensured that for yourself."

Toji walked to the exit in precise and confident strides, but just before disappearing into the halls, he paused.

"Oh, but one last request.” Except what he said next wasn’t a request, but a demand. “Never show yourself to us or anyone we care about again. Take this as a warning."

Then, the door clicked shut.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Naoya stood up.

“God fucking damnnit!” he hollered at the top of his lungs like a mad maniac. His hand shot out, sweeping the papers off the table violently, sending them scattering across the floor.

He hissed and seethed. How he hated this feeling. His current ordeal had been his wake-up call to realize that merely being born into status didn't mean he would be invincible.

If only he hadn’t let his unchecked arrogance blind him, then his life trajectory would have played out differently!

…Or maybe nothing would’ve changed at all.

Because perhaps, all these years, Naoya Zenin had been trying to grasp onto something that was never meant to be his.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: This is my final update for the year, and the next chapter will be the final chapter for this entire fic. I'll save my sentimental notes for later because I don't want to get sappy, but I wish everyone love, hugs, and good health forever and ever! Side note: I am very bad at updating the below taglist, sorry!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @sakuraryomen01 @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzuruu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[starkitxxz]

Crave you like a drug🎄💊

Sol x gn!reader

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FELLOW READERS AND TO EVERYONE CELEBRATING THIS DAY! I might be a little late but oh well... *proceeds to drop the trigger warnings

TW: DRUGGING, vague mentions of stalking and somnophilia, mentions of private parts, sexual themes, implied NONCON S3X, [Reader] is a virgin

Not suitable for minors, proceed with caution.

Wc: 3.2k

“Keep it hidden, and do whatever you want. Just be careful.” He said as he handed out what his friend needed.

“But I’ve been craving them so badly-”

“Do you want to make it riskier for you?”

“I- Fine. I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” 

♡♡♡

You flick the switch of the heater, warm light beginning to radiate heat from its vents. 

The once cold, lifeless room was filled with holiday decorations. Wreaths and colorful lights brought the place to life. A medium-sized Christmas tree was placed on the corner of the room, cute little ornaments stacked on its artificial leaves. Even though it wasn’t as big as those you see online, it was enough to make you feel the holiday spirit.

You flopped down on the couch and switched the TV on with the remote, wearing Sol’s soft jacket that you kept since he gave it to you a few days ago. You treasured it like it’s something special to you, something that can shield you from an icy blizzard. 

The reporter on the screen held her microphone in the middle of the sidewalk. Snowflakes continued falling as it clumped up into a small pile of snow, as if a pile of autumn leaves were replaced by frozen stardust. The reporter adjusted her fluffy hat, bringing the microphone close to her face.

“As of tonight, the temperature of this month’s winter season will change from 8 degrees celsius to 6 degrees celsius–Along with a mild snowstorm in- [static]”

The channel switched the moment it lost signal, you hoped the snowstorm she was talking about won’t affect this town. Lowering the TV volume, you wondered what would happen to you if you denied Mr. Z’s offer. You’d die of hypothermia by now. You can’t afford to struggle in this piercing cold weather alone, you’re doing this for the sake of your family and your home.

A breeze of cool air brushed against the side of your face, and you shivered at the sensation. Looking to your right, you see your window slightly open. It welcomed the chilling breeze inside your comfy abode.

You might need to buy another lock again.

You stood up from the soft cushion and closed the window shut, keeping the cold wind away from your room.

You caught a glance of your snowy surroundings. Trees were drained of its leaves from the freezing temperature, leaving it in a lifeless, chilly state. Street lamps and stores gleamed with glowing LED lights, flickering with different vibrant colors, with holiday decors plastered on glass panels and brick walls.

There were families reunited and bonding together in joy, couples clinging to each other like a matching puzzle set—afraid of losing each other amidst the snow filled town.

You wonder what your friends are doing, especially this Christmas Eve. They must be hanging out with their families right now. Semester break will only last for a few days, so it's worth every minute of family time.

You wished you could visit them this year. At least before a load of schoolwork.

You looked at your Christmas tree, noticing a present beside it, wrapped in shiny blue paper with a little snowflake on it.

Crowe’s present.

He gave it to you the day before, knowing he can’t drop by and visit your apartment. It’s a shame he couldn’t be here.

Or atleast, the friend group, except Deryl–He knocked on your door and placed a small yellow box on the ground. He didn’t hesitate to snatch some snacks as well. You didn’t mind though, he seemed like he was in a hurry.

When will someone stay the night here and celebrate the holiday with you-

Buzz. Your phone vibrated and the screen lit up, getting your attention.

You walked to the sofa and picked your phone up, a notification displaying on your homescreen.

Sol: Yo, are you free right now?

You type in your phone’s password and reply to his message.

You: Yeah, why?

Not a minute has passed til he replied back.

Sol: I was thinking of offering holiday treats to you, as a Christmas gift. Do you want some?

You: Sure, I could really use a midnight snack later

Sol: Okay, See you at 11?

You: Yup, I’ll wait

You check the time on your phone, 10:21PM displayed on the top left of your screen.

Sitting back down on the sofa, you lean back and stare at the ceiling.

♡♡♡

“I bought the cookies you asked for-”

Sol almost flinched from his spot, placing a hand on his chest from the sudden intrusion. 

“What the hell-”

“Relax, it’s still warm.”

Hyugo carefully placed the winter themed box of cookies on the pack of snow, as Sol continued to spy on you behind the snowy bushes. 

Hyugo knew Sol had done this every night, just to ‘look after�� his so-called soulmate. Hiding in the bushes or behind trees, holding a pair of binoculars as you minded your own business inside your apartment,oblivious to the fact your stalker is watching your every move.

Heck, maybe even when you’re changing clothes. His perverted, obsessed self would LOVE to see that

But of course, he won’t admit that. 

Hyugo cleared his throat, earning Sol’s attention once more–as snowflakes drifted slowly, covering the bare trees with cold flurry.

“Are you going to sit there and wait for them to fall asleep?”

“Maybe” Sol’s lips curved into a lovestruck smile, his thoughts wandering to the times where you slept so peacefully. The times where you were unaware of your surroundings, free from the chaos of reality, though your unconscious state was only temporary. 

It was only a matter of time before you woke up, yet, Sol managed to visit you late at night. Knowing you were in a vulnerable state, he took it as a chance to make every minute intimate and memorable to him. Every lingering kiss, every brush of his fingers, tracing your warm skin, remained as a reminder of his devotion to you.

To him, you’re a deity

And he will worship you like a devoted follower, a hopeless servant willing to offer everything for even an ounce of your love.

Like a prayer answered from the heavens above.

Hyugo sighed as he grabbed the cookie box. Sol raised an eyebrow at this but shook his thoughts away.

“Should I give the cookies to them or-”

“No, I’ll do it.” Sol got onto his feet, determined to meet you this time around. He hoped to see the face he admired the most.

Even after seeing you plenty of times every night.

“Alright, I’ll head home. Take care.” Hyugo handed the box to Sol, snow crunching beneath him as he walked away.

“Wait, did you add the-” 

“Yes. I did.” Hyugo responded and he glared at Sol, warning him of what he might do–though he can’t help but support Sol with his obsession over you only because of the deal they made.

Sol nodded, watching his friend disappear from his view, while he held the box of lukewarm cookies.

Sol cursed under his breath, he didn’t want you to receive cold cookies by the time he arrived–but then again, you could always heat it up.

Sol walked up the stairs to your apartment, the steps creaking underneath him. His mind was clouded with imaginable scenarios of what could happen with you and him alone. You and him, alone, in your apartment.

Hah, you have no idea…

Standing in front of your door, he knocked on the hard wooden material. He heard the sound of your footsteps approaching as he stood there, waiting.

You twist the doorknob and open the door, greeted by the tall figure before you. 

He wore a black hoodie, soft and comfortable enough to keep him warm in this harsh, frigid weather. He held a box of cookies, noticing the holiday themed designs when you took a peek–as well as the brand logo plastered on the plastic front cover of the container. All too familiar with the brand, you realize it’s from one of the delicious bakeries you went to!

The nostalgic scent of vanilla and cinnamon, friendly workers and their signature cinnamon buns, served with a cup of hot coffee–it made you wonder, does Sol buy pastries there? Or did he guess it’s your favorite bakery?

Whatever the answer is, you’re glad he bought you cookies from the bakery you love.

“Are these… from the Downtown Cinnamon cafe?” You asked, confirming your suspicion.

“Yes, I thought you would like it,” he replied with a soft smile, a faint blush forming on his cheeks.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you Sol” You smiled as you accepted the offer. “Please, come in”

Sol stepped into your house and closed the door behind him, examining the place. Wreaths, vibrant lights, cute reindeer stockings, all displayed on the walls. The faint smell of cozy vanilla and inaudible noises from the TV filled the room.

“Wow, you really put in the effort,” he commented, acting surprised at your winter themed decorations.

As if he hasn’t been spying on you for a while.

He’s seen you hang those bright string lights on your Christmas tree the day before Christmas eve, and when you bought the stockings from a nearby shop that costs less than $5.

“Do you want some hot chocolate? You must be shivering right now.”

“I’d love that,” Sol replied, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. 

As delusional it may sound, he will definitely appreciate a cup of hot chocolate, mainly because you made it yourself.

If it reminds him of you, he’ll happily take it.

If only something eventually reminded you of him too… 

You nodded and headed to the kitchen while Sol sat down on the sofa, the box of cookies set on the coffee table.

You place a kettle, half filled with water, on the lit stove, waiting for it to boil.

As soon as it whistles, you twist the knob off. 

You placed a black mug on the counter, grabbing a packet of hot chocolate powder and a pair of scissors, cutting a straight line across the plastic cover of the packet. You pour all of the packet’s powdery content into the empty mug, discarding the plastic after.

You fill the mug with hot water, combining the chocolate powder with it as it steams. 

You return to the living room, holding a small tray with a mug of hot chocolate with a spoon and a jar of soft marshmallows. 

“You can add marshmallows if you want,” You smiled as you placed the tray on the coffee table. Sol nodded at the suggestion, opening the jar of marshmallows and putting 2 of them in the drink, making a plop.

As you were about to sit beside him, you noticed something missing under the Christmas tree… wait, there’s one gift missing…

Rising up from your seat, you approach your Christmas tree and inspect it, and to your surprise, Crowe’s gift is missing.

“Uh… Sol, have you seen a square shaped present wrapped in a blue wrapper?” You asked as you began to search for it, failing to catch sight of the scowl on his face.

“No, I haven’t,” Sol replied, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. 

You cursed under your breath. You knew it was just under the tree, you didn’t move it somewhere else. 

Maybe you actually placed it somewhere else, it’s getting late already, but….

How will Crowe react when you tell him you lost his gift?

Letting out a sigh, you sat down beside him once more and glanced at the clock. It displayed 11:47PM, and you realize there’s still 13 minutes before Christmas. 

And you get to celebrate it with Sol.

“It’s almost time,” You uttered, gaining Sol’s attention as the scowl on his face disappeared, now displaying his calm facade. 

He looked at the clock, 11:49PM shown on the clock. He smiled, at the thought of celebrating the holidays with you. Looking back at his hot chocolate, he took another sip.

Suddenly, your stomach growled, only then you realized you didn’t eat properly for dinner. You were too busy with the decorations and sleeping the whole day, you didn’t have time to eat that much. Or maybe you just don’t feel like eating.

Whether you slept or slacked off whatsoever, you have to eat now. 

Good thing Sol brought those cookies.

You lean forward and open the lid of the box, the tasty smell of cinnamon from snickerdoodle cookies makes you want to eat it all. 

“It smells so delicious!” You exclaimed in delight as you grabbed a portion, taking a small bite. And you swore it’s one of the greatest cookies you’ve ever tasted.

You never knew they made the cookies this good, especially as a holiday treat. It melted in your mouth smoothly, tasting the vanilla and cinnamon as you chewed it into bits. It filled your tastebuds with delight.

Sadly it will disappear once Christmas is over.

Sol looked at you in a way he was surprised at your reaction, enjoying the taste of the cookies he bought for you. 

Thank goodness you like it…

Bet you’ll love what’s next…

“Is it good?” He asked and drank his hot chocolate halfway. He looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for either your response or for you to eat more of those cookies. 

You nodded, swallowing the melted cookie. A friendly smile was plastered on his lips, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” 

The clock ticked till 11:54PM, a few more minutes until Christmas.

You grab another portion, and another one, enjoying the delicacy a bit too much. It just tasted so so good, and you weren't skilled enough to bake something like this. Something so sweet and tasty.

“Hey, save some for me,” Sol chuckled as he grabbed one for himself, taking a bite and letting out a satisfied hum.

By 11:58PM, the box was left empty as well as the mug of his hot chocolate. You licked your lips to gather any leftover crumbs around your mouth. Looking at the box, you can’t believe you actually ate it all.

“Damn, I’m so full,” You commented, overwhelmed by how appetizing the cookies are.

“Yeah, same,” Sol replied, often glancing at the clock every few seconds. 11:59PM.

“Are you sure you won’t go home yet? You keep looking at the time-”

“Yeah, I’m sure, I just need to… do something…” 

“Do what?” You looked at him confused, until a sudden gush of warmth fueled your body, putting you in a relaxed state as your muscles loosened.

Strange, it’s so hot here…

“Mmh… I feel a bit weird right now…” you said as you leaned back on the couch, letting the soft cushion absorb you. 

You can’t help but feel… excitement.

Heat coursed through your core, burning with lust. A strong sense of wanting to be satisfied, thirsty for intimacy. Your heart rate rapidly increased every second.

49…

“Are you okay? You look like you're in a haze there…” Sol asked as he scooted closer, reaching a hand out to check if you’re on the right mind. 

It must be something I drank- no, maybe it was the cookies… You thought, as you began to crave fulfilling your desires. But not in front of Sol, at least not now.

43…

“Y-Yeah, I-Im fine…” You managed to stutter, grasping the soft material of the sofa cushion with your hands.

“Are you sure-”

40…

“I-I feel… so… fuck…” You tighten your fists on the cushion. Wild, inappropriate thoughts ran around your disoriented mind.

Sol looked at you with a sly smile, “what do you feel, pumpkin?”

36…

“I-I don’t know,” you replied as you felt your arousal growing. A feeling of your crotch yearning to be touched. A feeling resulting in risking your own purity. 

You look at Sol, his red-orange irises locking onto yours. 

When did he look so fucking… attractive…?

31…

“You seem a little dizzy there,” He said as his warm breath hit your ear, his face ever so slightly close to you.

29…

“Do you need help letting it all out, darling?”

27…

You shook your head, “N-No, I-” 

He cuts you off, “You’re unusually hot.”

He brushes the back of his hand on your cheek lightly, warmth coming into contact with his hand.

The effect is working.

Seems like he doesn’t need to add any more substances.

23…

You gulped and gazed at his lips, fuck, why does it look tempting?

Whatever it is, it feels so thrilling.

It makes you feel so alive, so eager, so inclined to just kiss him right here right now.

But it feels so wrong…

Sol noticed your focus on his lips, a chuckle escaped his mouth. He loved the way you were reacting right now, like he planned it all out. He planned all of this just to give you more of his undivided love.

And why care if the neighbors heard you and him?

“What are you looking at, pumpkin-”

Suddenly, you clutched both of his wrists and pinned him down above the sofa, as it let out a squeak.

Sol’s eyes widened at the sudden move, but his reaction quickly turned into lust. He was longing for this just as you are.

He has been waiting for this reaction from you. 

It’s almost unbelievable how a fine amount of aphrodisiac can affect you, and most especially, your own body.

14…

“Oh darling, you have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting this,” Sol confessed with lovestruck and lustful admiration. The tent in his pants was almost evident as he locked eye contact with you.

“You’re practically aching for me aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear seductively.

10…

“Maybe…” You replied back and leaned closer, your body roughly touching against his–yet, you desire to feel all of him.

8…

“Maybe?” He raised a brow, smirking at your response. He has full control on you, despite your conscious yet hazy state, the effects will last for a while. After all, he wanted to make this as special as possible.

A blush crept up to your face, lost in the thought of his lips meeting yours. The very thought of it made you turned on-

4…

You held both sides of his face, letting his bound wrists free as you pressed your lips against his. He feels how desperate you are for this, how you’ve been craving him ever since the drug affected you. He wanted this too. 

3…

He yearned for this, he yearned to claim his soulmate’s lips as his–but when will you realize? When will you finally realize you’re bound to him by soul…?

For now, he will take advantage of your vulnerable, needy state.

2…

His hand ran through your locks and pulled your head closer, deepening the kiss. His heart pounded against his ribs, feeling your rapid heartbeat as well. Overjoyed by the sensation of your lips, he slid his free hand underneath your shirt.

1…

Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “Happy holidays, pumpkin.”

0…

Before you could react, your shirt is lifted over your torso.

♡♡♡

Imagine what happens next lmao

[l0standn0tf0und]

Remus John Lupin headcanons pt.2

pt.1

@hedonisticeiram I think I did my worst of the worst

TW: a lot of angst, mentions of smoking, food, grief, self-loathing, survivor’s guilt, loneliness, depression, self-destructive thoughts, trauma, and references to suicidal ideation.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who blushes furiously when complimented, always brushes it off with a joke.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who can never turn down a chess game.

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who skips meals in the Great Hall after full moons. He can’t stand the startle on first years' faces and the way they glance at his hands, limp, and scars but avoid his eyes.

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who always smiles wildly, even though he tries not to, when the wooden door swings open and Prongs bursts into the dorm, filling the space around with laughter, Pete barely holding back a giggle as he struggles with a mouthful of pumpkin pasties, followed by Sirius, grinning ear to ear with a teetering plate piled high with food they brought for him, as they always did when Remus couldn’t bring himself to join them at the Great Hall.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets to eat for days. He tells himself he’s just too busy, but deep down, he thinks his body isn’t worth the effort. And even deeper down he hopes the door will open again, and the space will be filled with laughter.

Remus "Nothing will come between me and my cigarette" Lupin, who always has a bar of chocolate with him.

Remus "Nothing will come between me and my chocolate" Lupin,  who always has a pack of cigarettes with him.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who secretly loves bad romance novels—the ones with absurd plots and too-perfect endings.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who loves thunderstorms. The steady drumming of rain against the window is one of the few things that truly calms him.

Remus John Lupin who hates thunderstorms. The lightning dragging him back to the flashes of curses during battles.

Remus John Lupin, who skips his own birthdays, because it feels like celebrating another year of survival.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who saves every handwritten note and letter. Even the smallest ones, like James's quick scrawl, "We're waiting for you at dinner!".

Remus John Lupin, who skips Christmas Eve, because he sees no point in celebrating without the people who once filled his world with light.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who treasures every gift he’s ever received. A now-broken quill from Lily, a mixtape from Sirius, a poorly drawn doodle from Marlene.

Remus John Lupin, who locks himself in his room on any other holiday, lights a cigarette, and looks through old photos, tracing faces that feel both painfully close and unbearably far, until he cries himself to sleep.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who has all memorable trinkets tucked away in a box he opens on bad days to remind himself he is loved.

Remus John Lupin, who has all old trinkets tucked away in a weathered box he opens on bad days to remind himself he was loved.

Remus "The prefect" Lupin.

And "Moony, our prefect" for first-years whose fear melting into familiarity as they grow used to the scars. 

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who counts every scar and bloody bite on his body.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who wears his friends’ clothes without asking. He throws on James’s jacket or  Black’s fancy-schmancy scarf like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because "if you don't want me to take your staff, stop throwing it all over our dorm"

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who can’t look at the moon. Even when it’s not full, it's a constant reminder of what’s coming. It feels oppressive.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who loves autumn. The crisp air, the changing leaves, the excuse to wear his coziest sweaters, and hours of walking through the backyard, breathing in the smell of damp earth and fallen leaves.

Remus John Lupin, who'd better look at the moon and think what a horrifying beast he is, than has his mind free for thoughts about his friends that always find their way to come up and draw him to the depth of countless what-ifs

Remus "I don't need a wand, I just need my hands" Lupin. And it relates to everything, from broken stool, to someone's broken nose.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who prefers morning tea instead of coffee. Because it’s gentler on his frayed nerves, but the truth is that he loves the quiet ritual of brewing it. Sirius teases him for being an old man when he insists on the perfect steep time.

Remus John Lupin, who drinks coffee. Only coffee. Because he doesn't want to hear "you're such a grandpa", but in his head now.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who always ends up with ink stains on his hands, no matter how careful he is.

Remus John Lupin, who writes letters he never sends. Letters to James, Lily, Peter, and Sirius.

Especially to Sirius.

Remus John Lupin, who writes to Sirius in Azkaban.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he folds his letter. A faint, wistful smile softening scars on his face.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he carefully tucks the letter into an envelope. He writes to his old dearest friend.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he seals an envelope with dark red wax. He feels relieved after sharing his burden with the closest person.

Remus John Lupin, who knows Sirius will never see the letters, knows he’ll never get a response, because he'll never send them. But he writes anyway. He needs to take a break, at least for a few moments to pretend that nothing happened. That everything is fine. That he is fine. So he writes, pouring out everything he’s too afraid to say aloud. He writes, pouring out everything, fears, griefs, and confessions he has no one to say.

Remus John Lupin, whose fragile moment of peace ends with the weight of endless loneliness returning heavily to his shoulders as he watches the letter curl, blacken and turn to ashes in the fireplace flame.

Remus John Lupin, who still wears mismatched socks. He finds it funny. The tiny bit of chaos that still draws a faint, fleeting smile to his face.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who never leaves without a book in his bag. No matter where he’s headed, there’s always a novel tucked away, just in case he finds a quiet moment to read.

Remus "Moony"  Lupin, who presses wildflowers between the pages of his books.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who has the warmest hugs.

Remus John Lupin, who has the warmest hugs.

Remus John Lupin, who can’t forgive himself. For being bitten, for every time he’s let the wolf take control, for each scar that mars his skin, for not seeing the traitor, for the danger he didn’t stop. He should have known. Should have acted. Should have saved them.

Remus John Lupin, who can’t forgive himself for surviving when others didn’t.

Remus John Lupin, who hates the sound of his own heartbeat.

Remus John Lupin, who wishes he had died with the rest of them.

 masterpost

[thepunkmuppet]

the possible future of the hatchetfield series: hatchetfield halloween party livestream full rundown

again apologies if someone has already done something like this, but I’m procrastinating doing my coursework and just want to talk about hatchetfield I want everyone to be aware of this exciting stuff that was announced in the stream so here you go:

the next starkid musical to be released will not be in the hatchetfield universe.

the guy who didn’t like musicals will soon be ready to license.

nightmare time 3 was originally planned to be released in the same year as nightmare time 2 and will wrap up the overarching nightmare time stories (which seem to be miss holloway and the foster sisters respectively).

if they did a fourth hatchetfield musical, it would be about miss holloway and her backstory. it is already written. I am very very extremely normal about this fact 😃

there is a possibility of a hatchetfield movie, and workin’ boys was sort of a test for this concept. it would be a slasher murder mystery centering around the hatchetfield community players (zoey chambers and the cast of workin’ girls, possibly also with ruth, hidgens, alice and any other theatre-oriented characters but that part’s just my speculation). the transcription of the teaser description can be found below the nmt descriptions.

ok so here are the transcriptions of the nmt3 episode descriptions:

Story #1: Bottle Imps

Bill Woodward has been chosen to test CCRP’s latest and greatest product; Bottle Imps. These reality-bending buddies will bring their owner the one thing they desire most. When his new imp, Lovely, leads him to his soulmate, Bill decides to use his magical companion to play matchmaker. But to help Charlotte find the man of her dreams, Bill will have to bend the Imp’s rules. Rules he’s been warned, must never be broken…

Story #2: Frankenruth

Desperate to see a naked body, Ruth Fleming and Richie Lipschitz volunteer at the morgue of St. Damien’s Hospital. Their terrible plan becomes exponentially more terrible, when they become unwitting subjects in the experiments of the body-snatching madman, Doctor Laszlo, who claims to have conquered death itself. If Hatchetfield thought Ruth was bad before, then they will cower before the unspeakable horror of… Frankenruth!

Story #3: Becky Barnes Climbed a Tree

Becky Barnes is on top of the world! Not in a literal sense, of course. She’s deathly afraid of heights. After years of struggle, Becky’s life is finally everything she dreamed it would be. She’s engaged to her high school sweetheart, Tom Houston, and the two have a surprise baby on the way! But, as the couple prepare for the arrival of baby Marie, a shadow from Becky’s past returns to haunt them.

Story #4: Devil’s Night

Tim Houston has a crush. Unfortunately, it’s on his older, mature and totally cool babysitter, Grace Chasity, who he fears will never see him as anything but a snot-nosed little kid. But when a devilish maniac with murderous designs on Grace attacks Hatchetfield the night before Halloween, Tim must protect his beloved, or join the killer’s growing body count. It’s another slashing adventure on the night HE came home… Devil’s Night.

Story #5: (long special episode) Miss Holloween

It’s Halloween in Hatchetfield once again, and Miss Holloway is celebrating the same way she’s done for decades, staving off the horrors that go bump in the night. But when Duke gives her an invitation to his wedding, the dejected Miss Holloway begins to chafe under the terms of a contract forged many years ago. She strikes a new bargain, but unfortunately her creditors are known for their tricks, not treats. Just as Miss Holloway gives up her powers in exchange for a mortal life, a monstrous new threat rears its ugly head. As All Hallows Eve descends, and all Hell breaks loose, Miss Holloway must save the town or die trying… for real this time.

Story #6: (long special episode / season finale) Orb Weaver

Lex Foster had a life once. A home. A boyfriend. Now there is only the road, and her sister, and the fear of the men who are hunting them. As Hannah Foster watched Lex sink deeper into despair, she is certain of only three things: Webby is gone. She cannot help them. They are alone. Elsewhere, an old soldier awakens from a catatonic state. Returned from some unimaginable Hell with a mission. He knows that somewhere, two magical girls require immediate evac… then maybe some coffee.

very important: if you want nightmare time 3, WATCH NIGHTMARE TIME 2. BUY A TICKET TO THE LIVESTREAM. SHOW THAT THERE IS LOVE AND DEMAND AND IT’S WORTH THEIR TIME AND MONEY I AM BEGGING YOU

hatchetfield movie: Cast Party Massacre

The Hatchetfield Community Players. You will never find a cattier troupe of two-faced thespians. But when the blood begins to flow at their latest show’s cast party, they must consider: is there a secret murderer in their midst? And more importantly, who amongst them is a good enough actor to pull off such a performance? Can they set aside their petty squabbles and tangled romances, or is it curtains for this ensemble? Who will survive… the Cast Party Massacre!

[linkspooky]

TOGACHAKO VS. FUFFY: How To Save Your Evil Girlfriend

So, once again My Hero Academia has failed to deliver on its promise of saving / redeeming one of the main villains of its story, and victims of its ficitonal society. This time I'm going to make the added argument that not only does failing to save Toga make the story worse, it also makes Uraraka's character almost completely hollow. While you can dismiss Deku's lack of character development as him being a shonen protagonist, both Uraraka and Shoto had arcs and Ochako's is effectively ruined by her failure to save Toga.

In order to make my point I am going to compare it to a villain redemption arc in another piece of media that does it right, Faith's character, and her strained relationship with Buffy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A series which is overall anti-state punishment and pro-redemption and delivers on practically all the themes MHA promised us.

MORE UNDER THE CUT:

THE GOOD GIRL and THE BAD GIRL

There is a reoccurring dynamic between two female characters in media, usually between a heroine and a female villainness that I like to call: The Good Girl vs. Bad Girl complex.

However, if you were a Freudian you'd be calling this a Madonna Whore Complex.

To explain the Madonna Whore Complex, one of the biggest examples in other Media is Aronofsky's Black Swan. The entire movie is themed around the Madonna Whore complex, and the impossible double standards the male perception imposes upon women.

"The white swan and the black swan are not merely characters, and not merely characters that are relevant to Nina. The black swan and the white swan are archetypes of women. They are emblematic of the Madonna and the Whore [...] . The white swan is the Madonna, she is pure, innocent, the ingenue. The black swan is the whore, she is cunning and deviant. The seductress. Nina and her ballet counterpart Odette are characterized as perfect ingénues. Ingénues are young, innocent girls who possess qualities of youth, innocence, kindness, naivete and purity. She is the fawn eyed damsel in distress and in literary films she's often the heroine or protagonist. On the other side of the coin from the ingenue, we have the seductress, embodied by Lily and her ballet counterpart Odelle. The seductress is characterized by her promiscuity, cunning nature and sex appeal. She is the alluring femme fatalle, willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wants. She's most often framed as the village. These draw parallels to Freud's psychoanalytical theory, a theory that suggests in the minds of some men they struggle to fully see women as fully realized and rather view them in archetypal categories." [SOURCE]

Black Swan is also a movie where Natalie Portman attempting to live up to the impossible expectations society has placed on her to be both the White Swan and the Black Swan goes insane, and quite possibly dies at the end of the movie.

Considering that Toga's entire story is that she is a shapeshifter who went mad because she could not fit both her parent's and society's expectations of being a "normal girl" then you can see why the Madonna Whore Complex is relevant, with the oversexualized, vampish, femme fatalle Toga quite obviously playing the part of the whore.

Before you call me a fraud for citing freud though, let me prove my point that the Madonna Whore Complex is quite literally everywhere in media.

I could literally keep going if this post didn't have an image limit: Jean Grey and Emma Frost, Jean Grey and Madelyne Pryor, Starfire and Blackfire, Raven and Terra, The Two Sisters from Ginger Snaps, t's literally everywhere all the way back to Lilith and Eve.

More intelligent takes on this trope play with the concept of the Madonna Whore Complex (MWC) to either present the archetypes as two fully rounded people (Catra and Adora) or demonstrate that it's impossible for women to fit into these two dinstinct categories (Natalie Portman in Black Swan).

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a work that challenges the MWC, by allowing both its good girl, and bad girl to be fully realized characters. My Hero Academia plays the MWC straight to a sexist extent by not allowing Uraraka and Toga to escape their categorization of Good Girl and Bad Girl, and also going out of its way to punish and kill the seductress for her sexuality like this is a slasher horror movie. Actually, it's worse than a horror movie because at least Jennifer's Body plays with the MWC in a clever way.

It's not just bad writing anymore Hori's writing has crossed over into actively murdering female characters to enforce puritan values, but let's not get into that just yet we'll talk about the writing portion instead.

I'm going to outline what BTVS accomplishes, demonstrate how it does this below, and then go on at length picking apart how MHA fails.

BTVS:

Shows Buffy and Faith as fully realized people

Shows the pressure to conform to the "Good Girl / Bad Girl" label.

Breaks down those two categories

Redeems it's bad girl

With that out of the way let's get the ball rolling.

HOW TO (NOT) SAVE YOUR EVIL GIRLFRIEND

This is the part where everyone in the audience is going to gasp. Even though I'm using Buffy and Faith as a positive example of deconstructing the MWC and redeeming a villain, Buffy does not save Faith. The two of them reconcile in the end, but Faith is not redeemed or saved by Buffy, and in fact Buffy is in part responsible for Faith's fall.

So, why would I say Buffy and Faith are a better example of villain redemption then Uraraka who at least did everything she could to offer a helping hand to Toga?

Because Buffy not saving Faith is THE POINT and Faith receiving redemption even though Buffy gave up on her is also THE POINT. Lemme explain, by starting at the beginning.

BTVS is a story that exists to flip both horror tropes, and the idea of the chosen hero on its head. The concept started out with Joss Whedon noticing that the Cheerleader is always the first victim in any given horror movie, and wondering what it would look like if the Cheerleader could fight back. If the Cheerleader was the thing that monsters ran away from.

Which leads us to Buffy Summers. Buffy is chosen by the universe to slay vampires, she is hero with super strength that can easily take on legions of vampires and often has to fight even tougher villains for each season's conflict. Buffy carries all the classic features of both the ingenue and the chosen one protagonist rolled up into one:. Ingénues are young, innocent girls who possess qualities of youth, innocence, kindness, naivete and purity.

However, after dying in the first season, and having to kill her boyfriend in the second season after he turned evil and inflicted a lot of psychosexual abuse on her Buffy has also got a whole lot of trauma. Which is when Faith appears on the scene. One of the first ways that the show challenges the idea of the "Chosen One" is that there are actually two Chosen Ones, Faith being the other Slayer.

Buffy much like Deku has a case of protagonism brain rot, but in her case she was actually chosen by the mystic powers that be to be the protagonist of reality. Buffy, who views herself as the hero of the story as a coping mechanism (we'll get back to this later) is suddenly challenged when the fates chose yet another chosen hero, challenging her pre-conceived notion that she is the hero of the story. If Buffy is not the only hero then who is she? What is all the suffering she's endured so far if it's not a part of her own personal hero's journey?

Buffy begins to dislike Faith on sight for projection reasons, before Faith does anything wrong. In a way Buffy herself the female lead is enforcing society's standards of the MWC because all the reasons Buffy decides to disturst and dislike Faith on sight are because she exhibits qualities of the seductress.

Faith is openly promiscuous, often comparing the art of killing vampires to sex, she is also someone who is proud of her power as a a slayer and uses it for her own purposes. She is a slayer for selfish reasons (apparently) while Buffy is the selfless hero. In the first episode Faith appears in, Faith, Hope and Trick Buffy is almost immediately hostile to Faith who has so far done nothing wrong for, trying to get along with Buffy's friends, getting a little bit too into vampire slaying and openly relishing her strength, and like occasionally making lood comments.

FAITH: Don't… touch… me…! BUFFY - yanks Faith off the unconscious vamp with one hand, stakes the vamp withher other. Then she turns to Faith who is breathing hard, high on adrenaline, rubbing her fists. BUFFY: What is wrong with you? FAITH: What are you talking about? BUFFY: I'm talking about you living large on the great undead here. FAITH: Gee, if doing violence to vampires upsets you, I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong line a work… BUFFY: Or maybe you like it just a little too much. FAITH: I was getting the job done. BUFFY: The job is to slay demons. Not mash them into sloppy joes while their

Buffy then escalates to like ableist slurs towards Faith within half an episode for getting slightly violent in a fight against vampires that were trying to kill her.

GILES: Well, Buffy, you have to realize you and Faith have very different temperaments… BUFFY: I know, mine would be the sane one. Giles, she's not playing with a full deck. She has almost no deck. She has a three. GILES: You said yourself she killed one of them, she's a plucky fighter who got a little carried away. Which isnatural, she's focussed on Slaying,she doesn't have a whole other lifehere like you --

The twist this episode is that no matter how much Faith tries to present herself as a free-spirit, she's actually a scared homeless girl who just happened to become the Slayer. Unlike Buffy she does not have a watcher, a mother, or friends to support her. She lives in the cheapest motel in sunnydale. The reason she's so violent against vampires is because she is understandably having a trauma flashback because her mentor was murdered right in front of her by a different vamp.

This is repeating pattern throughout the whole season, Faith is shown to be a victim of trauma, and occasionally acts in ways that are understandable for a victim like her to ask, only for Buffy to start mischaracterizing her as someone violent and insane and throwing the slurs.

You can compare both Faith and Toga as characters who are complex victims of trauma who society turns their back on and become bad victims, but Faith is a special case because we actively see her turn to the dark side. Faith starts out trying to be a hero like the rest and she practically does nothing wrong for half a season, and when she does finally make a mistake and become a bad victim it's the hero's desire to punish her and castigate her that turns her into a villain.

We actively see Faith's fall happen onscreen, and it's like totally Buffy's fault. Buffy throws her completely under the bus, because she's so desperate to see Faith as the Bad Slayer and Buffy as the Good Slayer. Faith is almost pushed into evil because of the MWC, the characters around her can't see her as a fully fleshed out human being so they are quick to demonize her when she starts acting like a bad victim.

So the two episodes appropriately named: Bad Girls and Consequences depict Faith's fall. In that episode Faith and Buffy are fighting vampires, and one human is mixed among the vampires. The human grabs Faith by the shoulder, and Faith thinking that the human is a vampire turns him around and stakes him.

It's a complete accident, something that Giles even says later on is an accident that can happen to any Slayer on the job and is completely normal. It's a murder that Buffy herself could have committed.

GILES: This is not the first time something like this has happened. BUFFY: It's not? GILES: A slayer is on the front lines of a nightly war, Buffy. It's tragic - but accidents have happened. BUFFY: What do you do? GILES: The council investigates, meters out punishment if punishment is due… I've no plan to involve them,however. That's the last thing Faith needs right now. She's unstable, Buffy. She seems utterly unable to accept responsibility. Shows no remorse.

However, even in the same breath Giles explains that it's an accident and not Faith's fault, he's also calling Faith unstable and irresponsible. Basically when they're not calling her a psycho (just hitting her with the ableist slurs), the protagonists all lowkey imply that Faith is somehow inherently violent and unstable because she displays symptoms of a bad victim.

I might also remind you Faith has not done anything to earn any of these accusations, until she kills someone in a complete accident. A complete accident that Giles once again said wasn't her fault and wasn't really a big deal.

FAITH: My dead mother hits harder than that.

Faith is stated to be a victim of physical abuse, heavily implied to be a victim of sexual abuse, and is homeless (none of the main characters offer to let her stay in her house she spends half a season in a terrible motel). However, Faith is quickly demonized by the white wealthy main characters for acting in ways that are completely typical for a homeless teenager.

The moment she commits one mistake they all turn on her and use that mistake as proof of these violent tendencies they all want to accuse her of having. Faith can never be the ingenue so she must be the seductress, because she can't just be a person.

Buffy: So, I, uh... (sees Faith scrubbing) How are ya doin'? Faith: (still scrubbing) I'm alright. You know me. Buffy: Faith, we need to talk about what we're gonna do. Faith: (looks at Buffy) There's nothing to talk about. I was doing my job. Buffy: Being a Slayer is not the same as being a k*ller. Faith has nothing to say. She's finished scrubbing. Buffy: Faith, please don't shut me out here. Look, sooner or later, we're both gonna have to deal.

It is essentially two episodes of this, Faith after killing someone on accident in a life or death fight is constantly called a murderer by others. She wasn't even like, drunk, or high, or being especially reckless she was being a normal slayer.

FAITH: So the mayor of Sunnydale is a black hat. Shocker, huh? BUFFY: Actually - yeah. I didn't get the bad guy vibe off him. Faith shakes her head. Scoffs. FAITH: When you gonna learn, B? It doesn't matter what kind of "vibe" a person gives off. Nine times outta ten he face they're showing you? It isn't the real one. BUFFY: I guess you know a lot about that. FAITH: What's that supposed to mean? BUFFY: Look at you, Faith. Less than twenty four hours ago you killed a guy. And now you're laughing and scratching and zipidee doo dah. That's not your real face, and I know it. I know what you're feeling because I feel it too. FAITH: Do you? So, fill me in. I'd like to hear this. BUFFY: Dirty. Like something sick creeped inside you and you can't get it out. And you keep hoping what happened wasjust some nightmare…

Faith is dirty, faith is disgusting, faith is unstable, Faith is sick for... killing a guy on accident in a way that Giles said was a perfectly understandable accident, and not showing clear guilt because the moment she did it everyone around her jumped on her and started accusing her of being a murderer.

Why do the selfless main characters suddenly start demonizing this girl before she even did anything wrong - well it's because she's poor problem solved.

No, but it does play a factor. Why do most american white middle class look down on the homeless? Because, they must have done something to deserve it, right? If Faith killed a man, that clearly is an indication that she was violent all along and the heroes don't have to sympathize with the fact she's homeless or you know lift a finger to help her.

Now, this makes it sound like I hate Buffy, but Buffy is actually my favorite character in the whole show. The thing is Buffy's complete lack of sympathy for Faith makes her a better character. Buffy needs to demonize Faith and throw her under the bus, because Buffy is a victim of sexual abuse too. Her boyfriend turned evil after having sex with her once, and spent an entire season stalking her and terrorizing her the entire season 2 Buffy / Angel plotline is a thinly veiled groomer metaphor.

The thing about Buffy is she's not allowed to show any kind of reaction to her trauma. The episodes preceeding Faith, Hope and Trick are Anne, an episode where Buffy runs away from home after being sexually abused (stalking is sexual abuse) by Angel for a whole season and feeling like no one would understand her, and Dead Man's Party, an episode where every single one of Buffy's loved ones ruthlessly criticize her for having run away. Like, how dare a teenager not react perfectly to being horribly stalked by a serial killer after she had sex with him for like half a year.

JOYCE: Buffy! You didn't give me any time. You just dumped this… this thing on me and expected me to get it. Well -guess what? Mom's not perfect. I handled it badly. But that doesn'tgive you the right to punish me byrunning away. BUFFY: Punish you? I didn't do this to punish you XANDER: Well you did. You should have seen what it did to her. BUFFY: Great. Would anybody else care to weigh in? What about you? By the dip. XANDER: Maybe you don't want to hear it, Buffy. But taking off like that was selfishand stupid. Buffy's breaking down. It's all too much. BUFFY: Okay - I screwed up! I know it - alright!? But you have no idea. You have no idea what happened to me or what I was feeling

The reason Buffy is so hard on Faith is because everyone else is equally hard on her. The label of the ingenue is so difficult for Buffy to maintain, because she has to be pure, and without any flaws, especially when reacting to trauma that she throws Faith under the bus for her bad victim behaviors.

The white middle class demonize the homeless because they don't want to face the reality it can happen to them, Buffy doesn't want to reflect on all the things her and Faith have in common because she could very easily become Faith. Buffy is the victim of extremely similiar trauma to Faith, and being pressured to be the perfect victim of that trauma in a way that's destroying her mentally slowly.

FAITH: It was good, wasn't it? The sex? The danger? Bet a part of you even dug him when he went psycho BUFFY: No FAITH: See - you need me to tow the line because you're afraid you'll go over it, aren't you, B? You can't handle watching me living my own way and having a blast - because it tempts you. You know it could be you... ( Something snaps in Buffy. She rears back and POPS Faith a good one. Faith falls back, but she's smiling as she puts a hand to her bleeding mouth. ) FAITH: There's my girl…

Buffy is suffering under the expectations of the MWC too, but in her desperation to make Faith out to be the seductress instead of... like... a csa victim... Buffy is reinforcing those standards on both herself and another woman.

The entirety of Bad Girls and Conesequences is Faith being called a murderer by several people, having another trauma flashback to a sexual assault because Xander came to her motel room under the guise of "helping her", getting hit over the head and chained to a wall, then getting the swat team called on her and almost dragged to London for trial. Then the heroes do nothing to help her. The first thing Faith does is go to the main villain, who buys her an apartment AND A PLAYSTATION. So... the evil main Villain of the show helped Faith with her homelessness situation while none of the main characters lifted a finger.

it sounds like it sucks but it doesn't because it's all intentional. Buffy cannot process her own sexual trauma so she is just awful to people who are also domestic abuse victims. here's one of my favorite scenes, Buffy yells at a girl being beaten by her boyfriend with a visible black eye.

Buffy: Where can we find him? Debbie: I-I don't know. Buffy: You're lying. Debbie: What if I am? What are you gonna do about it? Willow: Wrong question. Buffy takes her by the arm again and pushes her up against the sink in front of the mirror. Buffy: Look at yourself. Why are you protecting him? Anybody who really loved you couldn't do this to you. She takes a few steps away. Debbie turns around to face them. Debbie: Would they take him someplace? Buffy: Probably. Debbie: (shakes her head, sobbing) I could never do that to him.(Willow sighs) I'm his everything. Buffy: (disgusted) Great. So what, you two live out your Grimm fairy tale? Two people are dead.

That poor girl gets her neck snapped like five minutes later and Buffy just kinda, moves on even though it would have been an easily preventable death.

Buffy getting mad at an abuse victim for showing textbook behaviors of abuse victims in bad relationships. Buffy is a good character because she is a hero, she can be empathic, but she really only understands heroism in term of defeating the bad guys, and when called to relate to people with complex trauma, especially trauma that reflects her own trauma she can't! She just can't process it! The expectations of being the ingenue, the perfect hero are so crushing she can't cope with a messy reality so she needs to have a black and white view of herself and other people.

Buffy needs to be firmly in the good category, and Faith needs to be firmly in the bad category in order for Buffy's brain to keep working.

Not only does Buffy's conflict with Faith characterize how much Faith suffers for being a bad victim, it shows how the pressure to be a good victim destroys Buffy mentally to the point where she starts using Faith as a punching bag.

Literallly.

It's all intentional too, Buffy gets called out on it, Faith always gets the last word and the final episode of the season makes out Buffy to be a hypocrite. After Buffy literally threw Faith under the bus, called her disgusting for murdering a man, Buffy is completely willing to murder Faith to get a cure for her vampire boyfriend who's been poisoned.

All human life is sacred and needs to be protected, but Fuck Faith I guess.

Faith: I could say the same about you. I mean, you're still the same better-than-thou Buffy. I mean, I knew it somehow. I kept having this dream, I'm not sure what it means, but in the dream the self-righteous blond chick stabs me, and you wanna know why? Buffy: You had it coming. Faith: That's one interpretation, but in my dream, she does it for a guy. Faith: I wake up to find the blond chick isn't even dating the guy she was so nuts about before. I mean, she's moved on to the first college beefstick she meets. Not only has she forgotten about the love of her life, but she's forgotten about the chick she nearly k*lled for him. So that's my dream. That and some stuff about cigars and a tunnel. But tell me, college girl, what does it mean? Buffy: To me? Mostly, that you still mouth off about things you don't understand. (Sirens) Uh-oh. I guess somebody knows you're here.

So the show goes to great length to show you that there are two sides to this conflict, Buffy demonizes Faith, because her friends expect her to be the perfect hero. Faith reacts badly to trauma because she has no support system, and the people around her have no empathy for her because they're too privileged to imagine the things in Faith's life ever happening to her.

Buffy and Faith are fully realized people.

Buffy and Faith are presented to the audience as the ingenue and the seductress but they're both fully realized characters. Buffy's not the ingenue because she's just as capable of murder as Faith is. Faith isn't the seductress because she's a homeless teenager. They are both victims of sexual trauma, though one reacts in what people consider an "acceptable way" and the other is a total slut about it.

Shows the pressure to conform to the "Good Girl / Bad Girl" label.

Buffy throws Faith under the bus specifically because the pressure in her life to be the perfect slayer is so immense that it could be her that takes the fall so she needs to believe in black and white concepts like she is inherently good and Faith is inherently bad to justify the bad things that happen to Faith and therefore convince herself said bad things could never happen to her. "You can't handle watching me living my own way and having a blast - because it tempts you. You know it could be you..."

Faith: Angel said there was no way you were gonna give me a chance. Buffy: I gave you every chance! I tried so hard to help you, and you spat on me. My life was just something for you to play with. Angel - Riley - anything that you could take from me - you took. I've lost battles before - but nobody else has -ever- made me a victim. Faith: And you can't stand that. You're all about control. You have no idea what it's like on the other side! Where nothing's in control, nothing makes sense! There is just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything. You can't even.. Buffy: Shut up!"

Buffy needs to fit her and Faith into neat little boxes because she cannot face the inherent senselessness of the world (and also that she is a victim too "you made me a victim")

Breaks down those two categories

Even in Seasons where Faith is not present she haunts the narrative, because the writers were well aware that Buffy and Faith are the same person under different circumstances.

All of Season 6 Buffy is faced with many of the same situations that Faith was, she suddenly becomes poor and in danger of losing her house, she has extreme depression from coming back from the dead (long story) she can't share those feelings with any of her friends because they treated her much like they did Faith - having no sympathy for imperfect victims. Buffy even gets into an unhealthy, sexual relationship, and like Natalie Portman basically changes from the ingenue into the seductress.

A relationship she has to keep a secret because once again, Buffy must fit into the box of the ingenue in order to be loved by her friends. This leads to her committing several bad behaviors, and at times borderline emotional abuse towards her sister (and debatably her boyfriend) and all comes to a head when Buffy is faced with the exact same situation as Faith.

Buffy in Season 6 believes she has killed a person accidentally while being the Slayer. It's a repeat of Bad Girls with several paralels, including someone trying to hide the body only for it to turn up later, and Buffy insisting she has to turn herself into the police and face jailtime.

However, in this version Buffy unlike Faith has friends who try to stop her from turning herself in and explain to her the murder wasn't her fault - and Buffy still reacts the same way Faith does. She basically borderline quotes Faith.

Faith: Shut up! Do you think I'm afraid of you? [Faith grabs Buffy and throws her down, then sits on top of her and starts punching her.] Faith: You're nothing. [Punch. Punch.] Faith: Disgusting. [Punch. Punch.] [Faith grabs Buffy's hair with both hand and bangs her head.] Faith: Murderous bitch. [Bang. Bang...] You're nothing. [Bang. Bang...] Faith: [Switches back to punches] You're [Faith is now crying.] disgusting.

This is an earlier scene which plays out as an exact parallel to this scene:

BUFFY: You can't understand why this is killing me, can you? SPIKE: Why don't you explain it? She hits him a few more times. He takes it, not fighting back. SPIKE: Come on, that's it, put it on me. Put it all on me. (She kicks him) That's my girl. BUFFY: (yelling) I am not your girl! She hits him hard. He falls back onto his butt. Buffy gets on top of him and begins hitting him over and over. BUFFY: You don't ... have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never ... be your girl! She continues hitting him throughout this. Now Spike goes back to human face. He's looking very bruised and bloody, but he doesn't fight back, just takes it. Buffy hits him again and again, looking angry and desperate. Finally she stops and looks at him in horror.

So if Buffy can react the exact same way that Faith does, when faced with the same trauma there is no good girl or bad girl, there's only two people who are complicated human beings.

The story *gasp* lets the hero be a bad girl.

Redeems it's bad girl

Faith's redemption is a shocking contrast to MHA the plot of BTVS does not allow Faith to commit suicide in order to redeem herself. In fact, her entire arc is an argument against the "put her down like a mad dog" trope. Starting with the fact that the heroes who are partly responsible for Faith's fall in the first place, are all too willing to just let the homeless teenager fall by the wayside, and then put her down for her own sake.

As I stated above, the inherent hypocrisy Buffy shows in her calling Faith a murderer and irredeemable for killing someone on accident because all human life is sacred to her, and then going on to try to murder Faith at the end of the season already shows the "put her down like a mad dog" argument doesn't work. Faith isn't too far gone, it's just Buffy who sees her that way. And because Buffy has given up on Faith she's failing at being a hero.

As I said above, Buffy is not the one to rescue Faith. In fact, in the episodes where Faith's redemption arc starts, Buffy is the one trying to hunt her down and enforce punishment on her. The episodes "5x5" and "Sanctuary" are both focused on Buffy going to LA to hunt down and interfere when Angel is trying to help Faith get back on her feet. The two episdodes basically explore the concept of redemption vs. punishment and how punishment saves no one.

5x5 depicts Faith's spiral as she runs away to LA to escape Buffy who is hunting her down, and accepts a job to assassinate Angel, which if she succeeds will get her rich and also get the cops off of her trail. We're led the whole episode to believe Faith has learned nothing until the confrontation with Angel at the very end, which you should really watch because it's great television.

Faith: You hear me? - You don't know what evil is! - I'm bad! - Fight back! Faith keeps whaling on Angel, sometimes he ducks, sometimes the hits connect. Angel grabs a hold of her: Nice try, Faith. He tosses her away from him. Then walks after her. Angel: I know what you want. She hits him and he hits back dropping her. She comes back up hitting and screaming, but not making much of a dent. Wesley leans out of the window and sees Faith beating up on Angel. He goes into the kitchen and grabs a butcher knife, then heads for the door. Angel as he dodges another hit: I'm not gonna make it easy for you. Faith throws herself against Angel screaming: I'm evil! I'm bad! I'm evil! Do you hear me? I'm bad! Angel, I'm bad! (She begins to sob, grabbing a hold of Angel's shirt and shaking him) I'm ba-ad. Do you hear me? I'm bad! I'm bad! I'm bad. Please. Angel, please, just do it. Wesley comes running out of the house. Faith sobbing: Angel please, just do it. Just do it. Just k*ll me. Just k*ll me." Angel wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her against him. She over balances them and they sink to their knees, Angel still holding her as she cries. Angel: Shh. It's all right. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Shh.

Faith tries to take the Toga approach to commit suicide in order to atone, but Angel actively understands that is what she's trying to do, and denies her the chance to die to redeem herself and instead holds her until she calms down.

Angel doesn't just save her once though he spends the entire next episode defending Faith from Buffy who has come to LA to take her revenge, and trying to talk Faith into believing she can still keep on living in spite of all the bad things she's done.

Faith: Are you saying I got to apologize? Angel: Think you can? Faith: I don’t' know. - How do you say 'Gee, I'm really sorry tortured you I nearly to death? Angel: Well, first off I think I'd leave off the 'Gee.' And secondly I think you have to ask yourself: are you? Faith: What? Angel: Sorry. Faith: And what if I *can't* say it? There are some things you can't just take back, no matter how sorry you *are*, right? Angel: Yeah, there are. I've got some experience in that area. Faith: Right. And you've been doing this for a hundred years! I'm not gonna make it through the next ten minutes. Angel: So make it through the next five, the next minute." Faith: "I don't think I can. Angel: Yes, you can. Faith walks away: God, it hurts. I hate that it hurts like this. Angel follows her: Oh well, it's supposed to hurt. All that pain, all that suffering you caused is coming back on you. Feel it! Deal with it! Then maybe you've got a shot at being free.

Angel's advice is "Guilt is supposed to hurt but if you face your pain you can try to find a way to be free of it" which is something much more profound then any of the forgiveness crap they peddle in MHA. More importantly though, the conflict the whole episode goes out of its way to show that revenge is bad, and punishment doesn't save a soul.

Angel: I didn't - I didn't think it was your business. Buffy: Not my business? Angel: I needed more time with Faith. I'm not sure... Buffy: You needed - do you have any idea what it was like for me to see you with her? That you went behind my back... Angel: Buffy, this wasn't about you! This was about saving someone's soul. Buffy: I came here because you were in danger. Angel: I'm in Danger every day. You came here because of faith. You were looking for vengeance. Buffy: I have a right to it. Angel: Not in my city.

Faith's suicidal ideation is a recurring theme that carries through her character arc in the following season - she does in fact go to prison for awhile (Elizabeth Dushku had to go make Bring it On) but Buffy remains anti-state punishment because going to Prison doesn't help her whatsoever. In fact, she just breaks out when she has to save Angel and spends the rest of the season free.

There are two episodes that actually are dedicated to showing prison didn't help, and what Faith needs to redeem herself is to spend every day of her life trying to be good, not just accepting punishment.

ANGEL: Faith, wake up! FAITH: (wakes) I've rolled the bones. You for me. ANGEL: I used to think that. That there'd be a point when I'd paid my dues. Angel and Angelus are fighting in the alley again. Angel leaves the fight and goes over to Faith's side, holding her up in his arms. ANGEL: Faith, listen to me. You saw me drink. It doesn't get much lower than that. And I thought I could make up for it by disappearing. FAITH: I did my time. ANGEL: Our time is never up, Faith. We pay for everything. FAITH: It hurts. ANGEL: I know. I know. ANGEL: Get up! You have to get up now. Faith, you have to fight. I need you to fight. Do you understand what I'm saying?

So you have one manga series where the teenage girl who did bad things commits suicide because she believed she was going to be in prison for the rest of her life and had no future, and you have the other where the teenage girl tries to commit suicide - only for Angel to stop her and encourage her every step of the way that there's still a future for her even if she can't be "forgiven".

One work ends Toga's life because she's done "unforgivable things" and the other tells Faith that the things she should feel guilty for the things she's done, and she should feel that guilt so she can keep working to be a better person every single day.

One of these is a good message to send to your teenage homeless trauma victim, the other is incredibly harmful. With that out of the way let's switch to BNHA.

HOW TO BURY YOUR GAYS

Now I'm going to attempt to demonstrate why MHA fails to truly deconstruct the MWC, and this not only ruins any potential character development for Uraraka, it also sends a deeply harmful message with Toga's death.

I think I've gone to great length above explaining how BTVS communicates it's stance of being anti-punishment and pro-redemption and even goes as far to demonstrate how punishment does not save anyone. Yet, here is the manga about heroes saving people that completely fumbles those exact same themes.

MHA:

Doesn't show Toga and Ochako as fully realized people

Doesn't show the pressure to conform to the "Good Girl / Bad Girl" label.

Doesn't break down down those two categories

Doesn't redeem it's bad girl

So let me start by saying outside of the context of the story Ochako and Toga both had the potential to be great characters. Unforunately this isn't Gacha, so the way the characters are written in the story, and the quality of their story arcs affects how well they are characterized.

Toga is much better off as a character as opposed to Ochako who sort is reduced to a satellite that revolves around Deku, but their story arcs and the way they conclude does a disservice to both of them as characters. They fail entirely to be shown as fully realized people by their narratives, because of the narratives desire to force them into the good girl and bad girl box.

More or less, Ochako isn't allowed to have flaws, and Toga isn't allowed to redeem herself in any way that doesn't involve killing herself.

Let's get to the characters though, the basic premise of the comparsion between Toga and Ochako is that Ochako perfectly fits into the mould of what society considers a "good, nice girl" she perfectly embodies the ingenue. Whereas Toga was horribly abused for most of her life until she snapped, because she was unable to simply pretend to be the normal girl that Ochako is naturally.

One thing I will give credit to MHA for, it does Toga being pushed to the margins and eventually falling off the edge of society as a young eventually homeless girl that no one cared enough to help about as effectively as Faith did. Toga and Faith were also both demonized before they did anything wrong, and were further demonized because they didn't act the way good victims were supposed to act.

The manga is almost masterful at portraying how much being forced into the box of the ingenue caused Toga's mental decline, until she eventually snapped and became the seductress instead.

Toga hasn't even done anything yet, she's already being punished and demonized simply for appearing deviant. Because once again the categories of Ingenue and Seductress aren't for viewing women and girls as fully realized people, you are either a perfect, innocent, girl, or you're a whore.

Toga is also hypersexual the same way Faith is. Of course it's not done with any of the same amount of nuance of BTVS because Hori has a habit of using Toga for fanservice, but Toga does have a habit of sexualizing herself, in a way that would be classified as deviant love. We also in the manga first view her as nothing more than a shallow yandere who creeps Uraraka out with her blushing and hot desire for blood, only to be shown she's actually capable of being an emotionally intelligent and caring individual when it comes to how she relates to her friends.

Toga viewing sucking blood as love is a clear metaphor for deviant sexuality, or even hyper sexuality, it's something that makes her a literal vamp. Toga being overly sexually aggressive and suggestive with the way she sucks blood is something the society she's in demonizes her for, Deku even makes a thoughtless comment that pushes her off the edge that he'd never even think of hurting someone he loved.

Faith is a CSA victim who is constantly trying to play off her trauma, so she's totally into sex guys, she loves sex, she loves it rough, she goes to clubs and grinds on guys, she's all into sex and violence and safety words are for chumps.

Toga was told her way of expressing love and attraction was wrong and deviant from a young age, and as a result of that the same way that Faith embraces hypersexuality, Toga embraces her femme fatalle / yandere persona and plays it up. Well everyone was right about her, she's fine with being a monster, so she just wants to live as a monster stabbing people randomly and taking their blood before moving onto the next victim.

They can't ever be the ingenue, so Faith and Toga embrace being the seductress instead. Yes, Hori does use Toga for fanservice, but at the same time you can't deny she's deliberately playing up her sexuality like a femme fatalle in a way that is not healthy (Faith is a hypersexual teenager too, I'm saying it's a trauma response for both of them).

MHA also shows much like with Faith how Toga despite being just a teenager is someone all of society has given up on - the same way that everyone gave up on Faith for being a homeless teenager. Then further demonized her for acting in ways homeless teenagers act, until she at last finally committed one crime and they turned on her.

Toga's first crime was committed after her mental breakdown, but it's revealed much later on that Toga wanted to ask Saito for permission to drink his blood, and if she'd just been granted it or at least the emotional abuse heaped on her had stopped she never would have had her breakdown.

For Toga it was Saito, for Faith it was killing by Mistake, after being abandoned they endured violence that further radicalized them with no help from the heroes.

Toga's character also textually acknowledges that the heroes are not going to help her, and are likely going to kill her, whereas in Buffy it stays subtext. Which isn't a problem, it trusts it's audience to go "Oh, the good guys are being jerks here" however, it's a direct facet of MHA's worldbuilding that Toga has watched the heroes kill her best friend, and now thinks she has to fight to the death because the heroes will kill her too. She can't back down and let herself be saved, because the heroes don't even see her as human.

Buffy can't forgive Faith for accidentally killing some random guy because all human life is sacred, but also she tries to kill Faith multiple times, because Faith's not human I guess. Uraraka and Deku believe themselves to be heroes but they actively support people like Hawks, who murdered Toga's best friend and have done absolutely nothing to show her that they won't kill her.

Toga reflects a lot of Faith's suffering for being a bad victim that society allowed to fall through the cracks, and a Seductress who needs to be punished for expressing her sexuality. In fact if it were just Toga, you could call it at least an effective deconstruction of the "seductress/whore" because Toga is a fully realized character and her entire backstory is about how society's expectations for her to be a perfect ingenue, and then punishing her when she wasn't a perfect ingenue is what led to her complete mental breakdown. She couldn't be the white swan or the black swan, so she became the blood-soaked swan instead.

Where the comparison starts to fall apart is Ochako. Toga is a character, and Ochako is not. Just like Deku Ochako more or less just kind of morphs into a plot device that exists to save the villain counterparts to prove what good heroes the kids are - and then she doesn't even do that part. Failing to save Toga is the final nail in the coffin for Ochako being a character and not a plot device to show how good and virtuous the heroes are.

BTVS goes to painstaking extents to establish how Buffy and Faith are the exact same girl in different circumstances. They are both victims of sexual abuse. They're both the Slayer. They both lose their mom at different points in the story. They both struggle with the fact that slayers are also killers, they're both the "chosen one". They both have issues that makes them conflate sexuality with violence.

Buffy is put through several situations that parallel Faith, she loses her mom, she becomes financially destitute, she starts exploring her sexuality in a very faith-like way. The two of them swap bodies at one point and nobody can tell the difference.

There's no strong parallel between Ochako and Toga to give the audience a reason why we should care about the relationship between the two girls in the first place. Ochako's connection to Toga tells us nothing about her character, because there's no strong parallel as shown to us by the story.

There are some parallels, the story attempts to tackle the emotional repression angle of how much the ingenue suffers because she's forced to repress her emotions and how much she envies Toga's free expression.

Why does Ochako think that way? Why does she focus on Toga in particular? The plot tells us why Buffy feels she has so much in common with Faith, they're both the chosen one but Buffy feels like she's under such intense pressure to be perfect that seeing Faith get to act out and express herself makes her jealous.

The manga tells us that Ochako is emotionally repressed, but it doesn't show us, because there are never any real consequences for Ochako repressing her feelings. Natalie Portman in Black Swan, and Buffy both experience mental spirals because the pressure to be the perfect woman is too much for them - to meet the impossible purity standards of the ingenue while still being a sexual creature.

In Uraraka this is the extremely simplified belief that she can't have feelings for a boy, while also being a hero because those beings are selfish and she should be focused on saving people. However, we never see her suffer because of these feelings. We don't even get the bare minimum of having her angst over unrequited love.

I don't want to give Ochako too little credit, there are several things that could have been a connection to Ochako, but they all turn out to be non-starters. Ochako is poor and often makes remarks like "The best way to save money is to not eat" in omake and she hangs out with mostly rich friends. She had early angst about the fact that her friends were becoming heroes for mostly altruistic reasons and she became a hero for money.

That could have also connected to the scene where Ochako witnessed the scene of a hero quitting amongst all of the destruction after the end of the first war arc, to show her the consequences of all the heroes who were heroes for less than altruistic reasons.

Ochako could have even told Toga something along the lines of "I was poor, I know how it is to struggle" especially since Toga spent a good portion of time homeless after she was throne out by her parents.

Instead that goes unaddressed except in this scene which makes it look like Toga is ignorant for assuming Ochako never suffered.

Toga and Ochako both feel like they need to repress their feelings but Toga was emotionall abused by her parents, then experienced psychiatric abuse, and then was disowned after her mental breakdown led to a violent incident. Uraraka feels like she can't tell the boy she loves how she feels. One of thsee things is not like the others.

There are more possible connections that you could draw between them, Uraraka gives a big speech about how the heroes have it rough too guys and at that point it cuts to a picture of Toga crying and that could have led to a revelation that if Ochako is asking the common people to see heroes as human beings, then they should try to see villains as human beings too.

This could also couple well with the fact that Toga believes Ochako wants to kill her the same way that Hawks killed Twice. Both of these facts, Ochako originally only being a hero for money and watching heroes for money quit, and also Ochako learning about Twice killing Toga's friends could lead to some self-reflection on the hero system and Ochako could listen to Toga and be the one to convince her that heroes will save her.

However, none of these happen so we don't know why Ochako feels compelled to save Toga, other than the fact that Ochako is just that nice.

It is really a repeat of Deku's writing, we are told that Himiko just really, really, really wants to save Toga, but not only are we never given an in character reason why that is, but we're also supposed to ignore all the evidence that contradicts this.

Ochako wants to reach out and touch the sadness inside of Toga, but she never actually does anything to try to understand or talk to Toga until the last possible minute. In fact, it's Toga who reaches out several times and Uraraka who ignores her. It is Ochako who insists several times that Toga's deeds are unforgivable and then the conversation stops there.

There's also the scene where Deku and Ochako are looking over the cliffside and Ochako is actively reminding herself of the damage that Ochako caused as a reason that she doesn't have to think of her as a human being.

Ochako doesn't even go in with a plan to take down Toga non-lethally like Shoto did with Toya, nor does she even think about what she wants to say to her until the last possible moment.

Ochako's actions make her more like Buffy, someone who actively doesn't empathize with the villain and doesn't want to save her because of her own personal hangups. (However, we're given no personal hangups for why Ochako, the most perfect hero ever wouldn't want to save Toga). Her actions are like Buffy's, not reaching out a hand to Toga she only gets worse and worse, but we're told the opposite. That she's someone who wants to reach and touch Toga's sadness.

It would be better if Ochako DIDN'T want to save Toga, because at least there would be an arc to it. The lack of empathy would be a character flaw on Ochako's part, something that she needs to overcome to be a proper hero. It would be better if Ochako DIDN'T want to save Toga, because then she'd need an in character reason why she doesn't empathize with Toga, like Buffy does with Faith.

Ochako is supposed to be deconstructing the ingenue, but she's not allowed to have any flaws, or be anything other than the perfect, empathic hero and because of that she ends up reinforcing the Ingenue instead. The ingenue isn't allowed to be anything other than perfect, and the Seductress must be punished.

Doesn't allow the Bad Girl to be redeemed:

Toga's death ends up reinforcing basically every backwards double standard about the MWC including the need for men to punish and villify women who freely express their sexuality. Toga's entire character arc is asking the question if soemone like her is allowed to live in this society, if the heroes will save the life of someone like her and the answer we receive is: no she can't live.

Toga can't live in this world, she has to die. Not only does Twice die and never receive justice and his murderer get off scott free, Toga who asks the question of if she's going to die too, the answer is yes.

In both of these plotlines you have young woman who have done bad things but are still teenagers, who are struggling with suicidal ideation who believe their only escape is death. Faith is told that the guilt of the things she's done is painful, but she has to live in order to make up for it because that's the only way to free herself. Whereas, Toga comes to the conclusion that there is no future for her other than being in jail for the rest of her life and therefore it's not worth living.

Toga has to be punished by the narrative in a way that's completely unnecessary, because characters like Bakugo and Edgeshot somehow survived doing open heart surgery in the middle of an active battlefield, but Toga dies from a blood transfusion.

One of these narratives is telling a troubled young abuse victim who's still a teenager to live, and the other is telling her to die. Now which one of these plotlines would you want a young girl to read?

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Merry Ex-Mas - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Navy Officer!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Cheating/Infidelity (Not Between Reader and Rooster); Friends to Lovers; Romantic/Sexual Tension; Implied Sexual Content/Suggestive Content; Light Angst; Use of “You,” No Y/N

Summary: After surprising your boyfriend doesn’t go as planned, you spend Christmas with Rooster.

Master List

It was Christmas Eve morning and the house that you shared with Fritz, Phoenix, and Rooster was growing emptier by the hour. Phoenix left the night before, after you all got off work, to head to her brother’s house to spend the holidays there. Fritz left at the ass crack of dawn to drive almost half the day to be home with his family for a few days.

And you were getting ready to surprise your boyfriend for Christmas.

He told you that he was spending Christmas with some friends and because you knew his AirBnB password, you could see where he was staying. And after not seeing each other for five months, you knew that you needed to put in an effort to see him for the holidays. The two of you had been having a lot of fights lately and you were hoping that a Christmas together would help patch things up a little.

“You’re leaving soon too?” you asked Rooster, pulling on your coat.

“Yeah, probably in like two hours,” Rooster stated quietly, sitting at the kitchen island as you packed some snacks for your drive. He struggled to hide his disapproval of your choice as he glanced out the window for a moment. “You’re all packed up?”

“Yeah, I’ll get gas on the way to the highway and then I’ll just drive straight there,” you replied, glancing up to see Rooster’s expression as he turned to face you again. Sighing, you turned away from him. “Don’t give me that look.”

“I just don’t want you to drive all that way and be disappointed, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, gathering your last few things.

Bradley and your boyfriend didn’t get along. Actually, none of your friends really got along with your boyfriend. Granted, you complained about him a lot, but unlike the rest of your friends, Bradley didn’t even make an effort to try and get along with your boyfriend. The two of them just avoided each other whenever your boyfriend visited.

Rooster walked you out to your car, carrying your bag for you. You took it from him and moved to put it in the trunk. When you came walking around the car, he opened your door for you. Giving him a quick hug and smile, you slipped into your car.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” you promised him.

“Safe travels,” he returned quietly.

“You too.”

Rooster stood on the front steps of the house as you backed up. Once you were gone from his view, he headed back inside. Even though he told everyone that he had plans with people ‘from back home,’ Rooster was planning on celebrating the holiday alone.

As he pretty much had since he was eighteen, if he had it off.

So, he was just going to bake some cookies like he used to with his mom, watch some movies, and catch up on sleep. He didn’t tell anyone because he assumed that they’d try to drag him along with them and Bradley didn’t want to interrupt their holidays with their families. He didn’t want the pity.

He was just going to have a quiet holiday by himself. And he was okay with that.

~~~~~

You finally spotted the house. But you were a bit confused to only see one car in the driveway since your boyfriend listed off a bunch of names of people that were coming.

Parking behind your boyfriend’s car, you carefully shut the door and walked towards the house. Testing the door, you found that it was unlocked and let yourself inside. The sound of music quickly hit your ears and made you pause. You glanced around the rather fancy AirBnB when you noticed a pair of heeled boots that clearly belonged to a woman.

Frowning, you walked deeper into the house, keeping your steps light. You turned the corner and noticed the bedroom door ajar. Slowly cracking it open, you stood, shocked, when you saw your boyfriend and some woman that you’d never seen before fucking on the bed.

You stepped back from the door, your heart racing as you processed the image. But once you got over the initial shock, you jumped into action.

You started in the kitchen and stole the wine that they brought. Heading back outside, you stowed the wine in your car before you walked over to your boyfriend’s car. You let air out of his tires, not enough to be too obvious, but enough to cause problems—you wanted to drag that punishment out a bit more.

You walked back into the house and returned to the kitchen. Filling a bowl with ice cold water, you carried it to the bedroom. Opening the door as the music hid your footsteps, you tossed the water onto them, causing them to scream out in shock. Scrambling around, your boyfriend’s face noticeably paled when he saw you standing there.

“Baby—” he started, causing you to chuck the plastic bowl at him.

“Surprise,” you called sarcastically. Turning to the woman he was with, you added, “Nice meeting you. Have a wonderful Christmas with him.”

You turned on your heel and stormed out as your ex-boyfriend got to his feet. He pulled on his sweatpants and ran out after you, leaving the other woman alone in the bedroom, but you were in no mood to listen to him.

“It’s not my fault,” he stated, earning a scoff from you in return.

“You just accidentally lied to me, brought another woman up here by mistake, and then your dick just magically fell into her vagina? Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid?” you growled, turning to face him.

“You’re always working. And I love you and I cared about our relationship, but I was lonely.”

“Why didn’t you just break up with me? Why didn’t you grow a pair of balls and tell me that you were feeling that way?”

“I didn’t want to be the dick who broke up with you right before Christmas.”

“Oh, so you decided to be the dick who cheated on me right before Christmas instead?” you countered, raising your voice more.

“How do I know that you didn’t do the same? You’re literally living with a guy who’d fuck you if you let him,” your ex-boyfriend snapped back before adding, “Actually, are you fucking him? That would explain a hell of a lot to me.”

“You know what, have a great fucking life,” you replied, turning and heading out of the house. “I’m fucking done.” Reaching for the door handle, you yanked it open and sent one last glare back at him. “Merry fucking Christmas, dickhead.”

Getting into your car, you quickly backed down the driveway. You didn’t let the tears fall until you were on the highway.

It was already pitch black when you returned home, but it wasn’t too late. You could probably just make yourself a quick dinner and then soak in a bath by yourself and decompress. Unlocking the door, you dragged your bag inside and kicked off your shoes, not bothering to be quiet because you assumed that you were alone.

Bradley, who was still home, heard the noise and assumed that someone broke in. Sliding off his bed, he reached for his baseball bat. He held it aloft as he slowly crept out of his bedroom and down the stairs to confront the intruders.

You were lost in your own world, looking through the fridge. The bottle of wine that you stole from your ex was already open on the counter and you contemplated drinking all of it tonight. Closing the door to the fridge, you turned and screamed bloody murder when you spotted Bradley standing there with a baseball bat.

“What the fuck!?” you both shouted at the same time.

You dropped the container that you grabbed and jumped back. Bradley, quickly realizing that it was you, dropped the bat and let out a breath of relief. You held a hand to your heart and leaned back against the cabinet behind you, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” you both asked at the same time.

“You were supposed to leave after me,” you stated quietly, causing Bradley to wince.

“Yeah, uh . . . plans changed.”

“Did you have plans in the first place?” you asked him softly.

“. . . No.”

You nodded slowly without any judgment. You simply pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned back against the cabinets. Bradley noted the redness to your eyes and the subtle sniffle and tear stains on your cheeks before slowly walking over to you. Sitting down beside you, he reached up and grabbed the plate on the countertop.

“Cookie for your thoughts?” he offered, causing you to laugh softly.

“You bake?” you asked, picking up a sugar cookie.

“Only around Christmas,” he replied, putting the plate back. He stared at you for a moment before asking, “You want to talk about it?”

“You were right,” you stated, taking a bite of the cookie. Looking down, you chewed slowly. “I found him in bed with another woman.”

“That son of a bitch.” Bradley turned to you with a softer expression. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t cheat on me,” you replied bitterly, taking another bite of your cookie.

“What did you do?”

“I let the air out of his tires and dumped water on him and her when they were in bed. And I stole their wine,” you added with a laugh. “It’s about the little things.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He said that I worked too much and he felt lonely, both of which are perfectly fine, but I would have rather just preferred that he break up with me. And then when I told him that, he accused me of cheating on him.”

“With who?”

“You,” you answered honestly, turning back to him.

“Me?” he replied quietly.

“Yeah. He said you hated him.”

“That’s accurate, especially now,” Rooster agreed, nodding slowly. “Still, I’m sorry that you had to put up with that bullshit. You deserve better than that.”

“Yeah,” you responded softly, staring into Rooster’s big brown eyes. “I do.” The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you added, “Do you think you can get the fire started?”

~~~~~

Tossing memories of your ex into the fire that Bradley started in the fireplace for you, you smiled over at Rooster as he started to play a song on the piano. He turned to you with a matching smile, pressing his fingers down on the keys.

“Old photos roasting on an open fire,” Bradley sang jokingly, causing you to crack up. “Black smoke nipping at your nose.”

“Just a little bit,” you defended yourself. “And we have the fire extinguisher.”

“I was the one who brought it in,” Bradley reminded you, causing you to turn away with a smile. “And I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry,” you teased, tossing another photo onto the fire. “Please, continue.”

Bradley sang another verse as you finished up with your reminders. Simply standing in front of the fire, you reached for your wine and savored the moment.

“Although it’s been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas,” Rooster sang, locking eyes with you again, “to you.” He finished the chord before slowly removing his fingers from the keys. With a softer look in his eyes, he added, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Bradley.”

The two of you continued to hold your shared stare as you slowly walked over to the piano. Bradley stared up at you as you stepped up beside him. He turned in his seat a bit, almost inviting you in. He didn’t make a move to reach for you, letting you dictate what happened, but he didn’t pull away when you slowly leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He rested a hand on your cheek, matching your passion, and happily accepting you onto his lap.

~~~~~

There was a layer of frost on the sliding door on Christmas morning. The fire burned itself out the night before, but there was still a warmth that lingered in the room, even though the embers had lost their glow. While there were stockings hung up on the mantle, there was a collection of four socks—two pairs—on the rug. Accompanied by two pairs of pants, a sweater, a tank top, a bra, two pairs of underwear, and a partridge in a pear tree. On a tee shirt anyways.

Slowly coming out of your deep sleep, you cuddled further into Bradley’s chest. He was still asleep with his arm draped over your waist and his head resting on a pillow. He had thrown a thick blanket over the two of you the night before and you pulled it up and over your shoulders. You started to drift off to sleep again, but when you felt Bradley’s hand start to travel up and down your back in a soothing pattern, you picked your head up.

“Morning,” he greeted you, causing you to smile.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he returned, wrapping his arm just a little tighter around you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. You’re really warm,” you mused, resting your head on his chest again. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s Christmas.”

“Good point.” Sitting up, you offered Bradley a soft kiss in greeting. Pulling back, you held yourself up as Bradley’s smile grew. “So, what do you normally do, first thing on Christmas morning?”

“Unwrap presents of course.”

You pulled the blanket back over you as Bradley teased it down. Offering him a jokingly sharp look, you laid down against his chest.

“Make me breakfast first.”

“I can make us waffles,” Bradley offered, causing you to hum in agreement. “With strawberries.” You literally moaned as he added, “with whipped cream and maple syrup.”

“If you make me that, I’ll give you your present early,” you offered, pulling Bradley in for another kiss that he eagerly returned.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Happy New Year!! Could you possibly do an imagine about kissing Q at midnight? Ty!!

10:43pm. 

Was it really New Year's Eve already? It was incredible how quickly the year had flow. So much had happened between Quinn and yourself; some for the better and worse. Right now, things were bad again. Not between the two of you, but with the team and with his ability to stay healthy. After healing fully from the high-sticking, you thought Quinn was going to get back to his old self, sniping wristers from the blue line and stacking up points for a back-to-back Norris run. Sadly, he was looking at another two to three weeks of off-ice rest, not counting the time off during Christmas. 

Quinn hadn't traveled to Calgary with the rest of the Canucks and you could feel the effects of Quinn not being with his boys while you sat beside him in his living room. He hadn't said a whole lot today, nor had you pressed him for conversation. If he wanted to talk, he knew you were available. Other than that, you had left him alone. However, it was nearing an hour from the new year and you were itching for something to do. 

"Wanna get dressed up and take a walk downtown?" You turned toward him on the sofa, crossing your legs up under you. You weren't sure how your proposition was going to over, but you would remain hopeful nonetheless. 

Quinn sighed deeply, "Not really. I'm not in a 'going out' mood. I'm sorry, sweetheart." He would look up from his phone and give you a sympathetic glance. It was all over his face that he had no interest in leaving his apartment that evening. Normally, you'd share that same sentiment, but New Year's was once a year, and it wasn't often that Quinn was home for the holiday. You just thought that maybe he would want something to get his mind off the raincloud over his head.

You both had watched the game together. He was tense the entire time, like he was on the bench and completely powerless to command this team. Everything was a struggle, but when they had finally tied it up there was some hope that they could still turn it around. Unfortunately, the score would end with a 3-1 Canucks loss and Quinn shaking his head. This was two games without their captain they would lose, and another two points they wouldn't be going home with. 

Leaving him alone with his thoughts and whatever business he was doing on his phone, you tried to keep yourself awake and the collective mood in the apartment from completely going to shit. Watching any kind of movie was out, because you knew his mind would be elsewhere, but what could you do where it wouldn't be back in the arena, replaying plays and fixing errors? You'd pout as you bounced from idea to idea before you felt your stomach grumble. 

"Wanna bake some cookies?"

This would cause him to put his phone down, like it had been the magic words he didn't know he needed to hear. "I'd actually love that."

You'd give him a warm, beaming smile before hopping to your feet and excitedly hurrying to the kitchen. Now, you nervously hoped that you actually had everything needed for cookies! 

"What do you need me to do?" Quinn would ask, looking at you on your tip-toes, going through the cabinet before finally getting up to help you. 

"Can you grab the eggs and butter? We should have enough eggs.... I hope so anyway!" You remarked nervously. 

"Sure," he replied flatly, taking a moment to scan the interior of the fridge. "Anything else?"

"Nope! That's it for the cold stuff, thank you."

"Mhm."

Quinn would shuffle around to the island, taking a seat while you messed about, adding more and more ingredients to the space in front of him. You knew he was trying his hardest to come off as happy, but you knew he was having a hard time. You wouldn't press him to cheer up, and if he had wanted to go back to the living room, leaving you to finish them, it wouldn't have bothered you.

"Sorry I'm not much help," he mumbled, like he had read your mind. 

"What? Oh, you're okay, baby! I'm glad you're here, that's enough!" Your smile had brought a little glimmer to his eyes while he continued to sit and watch. Quinn had been the only boyfriend you had had where just being in the same space with him brought you joy even if you were both doing different things. You could feel him watching you, making you smile more when you had your back to him. The slight squeak of him moving back his chair had been the only indication that he was on the move. 

"What can I do to help?" He would say, snuggling in tightly to your body, making it near impossible to move anywhere. 

You'd take a minute to think of what you could have him do, but you also didn't want to take him out of his comfort zone. 

"Can you just keep doing what you're doing?"

"Just...holding you?"

"Mhm!" You giggled, reaching for the sack of flour and measuring cups, struggling to reach due to Quinn's grasp. "I'm not asking for too much, am I?"

"Not at all. I just feel guilty watching you do everything." His voice was low, and sprinkled with the sound of depression and anguish. You knew that's how he had felt watching the games he couldn't participate in: hopeless and useless. 

"Well, I can't hold myself," you laughed, overlapping your hands on his at your waist. "You're doing a great job."

Quinn would playfully scoff at you giving him a verbal gold star, but deep down, he was so thankful that you didn't ridicule him when he got in these moods. He knew he could be so hard to deal with and the fact that you took every one of them at stride meant so much. Tonight was no different. 

The minutes would tick by quickly as you measured numerous ingredients into varying bowls before finally combining them into one, homogeneous mixture resembling chocolate chip cookie dough. From time-to-time, Quinn would dip a single finger into the dough, and each time you would softly tap him on the hand.

"Baby!"

"Quality control test," Quinn teased.

"You've said that three times now! Don't make yourself sick!"

He would let his arms fall from around your body, when you hinted that you needed to move away from where you had been standing. He seemed to be in a slightly lighter mood, having peppered you with delicate kisses the whole time you worked. How you loved having him home with you, just doing silly little domestic things like a normal couple did. However, having a partner like Quinn, and his profession, you never took the little things for granted. 

"Okay, fifteen to seventeen minutes," you said, putting the filled pans into the already hot and ready oven. You'd set the timer and walk back to him as he leaned against the counter. Quinn smiled at you, taking your hands in his at his sides. 

"Now we wait?" He asked, blinking slow, like he was fighting sleep despite being awake at this time rather often. 

"Mhm, come on, baby. You look exhausted," you confessed, trying to drag him back towards the direction of the living room. 

"I'm okay. I'm afraid if I sit down I'm going to fall asleep."

You acknowledged the truth in his words before another brilliant idea came to your mind. "Oh! I know! Wait right here, 'kay?"

Regrettably, you'd let go of his hands so you could cross the room and dim the kitchen lights to a low, golden glow. 

"Alexa, play Moonlight Serenade," you'd ask, returning to Quinn's arms. 

"Playing Moonlight Serenade, by Glenn Miller on Amazon Music."

Quickly, the apartment was filled with the crackling of a vintage record recording and the 1940s orchestra that was responsible. It was an easy enough waltz to sway to in the comfort of each other's company, there in the kitchen while the cookies bubbled and baked in the oven. Quinn would smile over your shoulder the whole time, having finally been able to shake off the feelings of failure. 

"Everybody loves somebody sometime~," Dean Martin would croon through the apartment's speakers. "And although my dream was overdue, your love made it well worth waiting for someone like you~

You couldn't help but giggle. It was like the song was saying what you were feeling and Quinn held the same sentiment. Silently, you two would continue to dance together to the love songs of old until the beeping of the timer pulled you apart. You'd both turn to see that the clock also read 12:00. 

"Happy New Year's, baby," Quinn would say first, tipping your chip up towards his awaiting lips. 

"Happy New Year's!" You replied, your lips just hovering next to his. The kiss was long, and sweet and everything you wanted to welcome in the new year with. Neither of you would let the other go for several minutes after, sharing multiple more affections until Quinn reminded you of the cookies.

"I'd really hate for your hard work to go to waste. We can always finish this later," he chuckled, pulling you in for one more heartfelt kiss. 

"Well, we'll have another fifteen to seventeen minutes," you winked, taking the pans out of the oven. "Does that work for you?"

"Oh, absolutely."

[monalisahyperdrive]

Primarchs and Christmas Classics - christmas songs and festive primarch/legion headcanons.

The final week of the winter semester has run me over so I'm blasting Christmas music to cope & inspire fuzzy warm feelings. This is once again entirely subjective and largely based on my (British, somewhat Catholic) own Christmas experiences. All good fun while I avoid working on these essays. I struggled with some of these so they might be a little off. ⇒ divider by @/cafekitsune

Alpharius & Omegon / Alpha Legion

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - The Jackson 5. The most confusing Christmas possible. Don't worry, Alpharius will be home for Christmas! Several dozen of him. You get the distinct feeling that the Alpharius who sat and laughed while playing charades earlier (you lost, badly) is actually not any of the Alphariuses sat at the table for Christmas dinner... but you just can't prove it. Is Omegon there? Of course he is. Which one is he? Good question.

Angron / World Eaters

Lonely This Christmas - Mud. Attempts a quiet peaceful Christmas, fails miserably every year. His sons love him very much, in their own way. He just sort of disappears into his home over the festive period. They come find him anyway. Small groups, well spaced out. They send one or two marines with gifts from a dozen or so every few hours. They don't get invited in, he greets them at the door, often gritting his teeth from the pain. He gets his rest, but he'll never be truly lonely on Christmas. Not anymore.

Corvus Corax / Raven Guard

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town - The Jackson 5. The Raven Guard just sort of... show up to Christmas. Was there even a knock at the door? Well, they're here now. You think. You were sure you just saw Corvus but you've lost him again. The whole thing is a relatively private affair, no real coming and going... as far as you can tell. The Raven Guard present seem to dissipate some time between late afternoon on Christmas Day and the morning of Boxing day. The presents are all freakishly accurate to what was wished for. Don't worry about it.

Ferrus Manus / Iron Hands

Christmas Time (Don't Let the Bells End) - The Darkness. (subject to change) Christmas with Ferrus and the Iron Hands is a rather rudimentary affair. 'For morale', they say. Admittance of actual celebration would be an admittance of weakness. Christmas dinner is served in a mess hall, and largely differentiates itself from the typical nutrient paste with... something that might be mashed potato and the slice of what seems to be the idea of turkey... if turkey was suspiciously nutrient dense and stiff. Presents are largely ignored, as are any decorations beyond the occasional string of lights. Time off is necessary in order to maintain efficiency. They're watching Die Hard for morale. Ferrus is watching along with them... for morale. Shut up.

Fulgrim / Emperor's Children

All I Want for Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey. Of course it's Mariah. The only way it wouldn't be Mariah is if it was Jingle Bell Rock, Mean Girls style. Yes, with the outfit. The Christmas decorations have gone up early and it all matches, right down to the last detail. Think those gorgeous monochrome Christmas trees you see on Pinterest. The table all set for Christmas dinner is both the most meticulously and yet effortlessly breathtaking you've ever seen. If anyone's got festive charger plates, it's the Third. There's singing, there's dancing. There's an elaborate charcuterie board for snacking on on Christmas Eve. Good luck going five minutes without your wine/champagne/juice glass refilling while you're not looking. Matching outfits for the Christmas cards but in an incredible chic way. Probably the classic matching pyjamas approach. Perfection is a must, and Christmas is no excuse.

Horus Lupercal / Luna Wolves & Sons of Horus

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! - Dean Martin. Cue shit eating grin, singing along, grabbing Lady Lupercal and- oh is that mistletoe up there? He hadn't even noticed. Well since you're already there... might as well? 30k Luna Wolves Horus is leaning full tilt into the Hallmark movie Christmases. The Mournival are even here for Christmas dinner and look they brought presents - isn't that cute? Post Heresy Horus (copium) is still just as meticulous with Christmas but it's a little more... off the rails. Everything is perfect, come sit down for Christmas dinner! Don't worry, he'll do the talking. All of it.

Jaghatai Khan / White Scars

Driving Home for Christmas - Chris Rea. One of the biggest and warmest Christmases, up there with the Salamanders and the Space Wolves. Everyone - and I mean absolutely everyone - is home for Christmas. Don't know anyone's names? Doesn't matter. The driveway is absolutely packed. They're parked out front all down the street, too. The living room barely fits everybody. There's not even nearly enough space for everyone to sit. It's cozy.

Konrad Curze / Night Lords

Wonderful Christmastime - Paul McCartney. Vague lyrics, nonspecific, bang on. It sure is a wonderful Christmastime, just... not what you might be thinking of. Merry Christmas from Nostramo. Please don't call. Sevatar is there. Christmas dinner is... meat, for sure. The fact there's so many Night Lords in the same place not snapping at eachother like a pack of unruly dogs is actually pretty impressive. Don't ask what the wrapping paper is made of. The first rule of Night Lord Christmas...

Leman Russ / Space Wolves

Merry Xmas Everybody - Slade. Primarily inspired by my drunken male relatives stopping everything to sing along and start dancing around the living room. Of course a Space Wolves Christmas would be boozy, it's a celebration isn't it? Feasting and drinking and laughing is the name of the game. All the presents are surprisingly thoughtful. Leman awkwardly hovers in the back while some of the presents are opened and suspiciously vanishes off into the next room with some of the wrapping paper and reemerges with presents wrapped in what he'd scavenged. After that is totally the type to sit by the youngest on the couch and be overly eager to offer his knife for them to use to get into their presents easier. Asleep the second he gets back to the couch post Christmas dinner.

Lion El'Jonson / Dark Angels

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love. A man who frankly needs to sit down over the holidays but physically cannot do it. Christmas? Stupid meaningless holiday. You're staying over though right? People are coming for dinner though right? No he's not going to decorate the tree. He's going to stare at you doing it though, and then he'll complain when he has to get up to help you place the star on the top. Acts entirely unbothered by Dark Angels showing up. Would be pacing and staring out the window all day if they didn't.

Lorgar Aurelian / Word Bearers

Mary's Boy Child / Oh My Lord - Boney M. Yeah, you're going to church for the Christmas service. But so is everyone else! And I mean, everyone else. Midnight Mass, Carol service, the whole shebang. Lorgar, however, is absolutely overjoyed! He has several Nativity sets he brings out every year. There's an angel for the top of the tree. He delights in listening to the carollers that come to the door. Has the whole family over for the holiday. Yes, including Kor Phaeron. There's no avoiding it. Picks out a new special ornament each year. Decorating the tree is a family activity that takes hours due to all the reminiscing over all the different ornaments that have been collected over the years and the story that has to be retold after they get carefully unwrapped before they can be hung on the tree. It's sweet, it just takes a while to get done.

Magnus (the Red) / Thousand Sons

I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday - Wizzard. Ah, the bane of my existence at school around Christmastime growing up. The Christmas quiz. If you don't think the Thousand Sons are having the MOST intense Christmas Quiz fighting tooth and nail (intellectually) for those points every year, you may be kidding yourself. Everyone knows exactly who won the year before. And the year before. And the year before that. Need I go on? Magnus himself writes and reads the questions, and it's Magnus who decides whether an answer gets a point or not. Christmas boardgames include Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, and so on. Scrabble gets heated. The dictionary gets brought out. And a second if the first isn't convincing enough. Every year it's declared to be banned from Christmas. Every year it gets brought out again.

Mortarion / Death Guard

Do They Know It's Christmas? - Band Aid Before Nurgle there is no way in hell Mortarion celebrated. After being taken under Grandfather's metaphorical wing? Oh absolutely. There is nothing Nurgle would delight in more than getting the whole family together. Eat, drink, and be merry! Don't... don't worry about the food, sweetness. Even Typhus has come for dinner, isn't that sweet? Poor tired Mortarion. Best keep him looked after. Not to worry, Grandfather has it all under control!

Perturabo / Iron Warriors

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas - Perry Como, The Fontane Sisters. It's a stupid holiday. What? Of course he's celebrating this year, are you mad? Didn't seem excited for the festive season? Oh he'll show you excited. The lawn, the house, everything is absolutely plastered in decorations. Is this enough Christmas lights? No. No it's not. Hang them on that tree, too. Absolutely has the light up sleigh and reindeer on the roof with the Santa decoration climbing the chimney. Absolute chefzilla in the kitchen cooking Christmas dinner. Best turkey you've ever eaten. Don't worry about the way he'd been fiddling with the oven for the last couple days. In fact, don't even step into the kitchen. He's going to feed his stupid sons who he hates. Spends the rest of the day sat on the couch doing a jigsaw on the coffee table. Don't talk to him, just let him have this.

Roboute Guilliman / Ultramarines

Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses. Respectfully, I don't think Guilliman - especially 40k Guilliman - would have the energy or time to be particularly festive. Any time off would be spent napping in an armchair in the corner dad style. Do NOT let this man take on any of the Christmas dinner cooking stress, but let him cut the turkey so he can still feel important and valued. He deserves a nice sit down in front of the tv and a glass of Baileys. His sons will handle the rest, and they'll do a damn good job of it, too! Seasons Greetings from Macragge, here is your festive email with an attached picture of Guilliman asleep on the couch in his sweater.

Rogal Dorn / Imperial Fists

Baby It's Cold Outside - Idina Menzel, Michael Bublé. No seriously, baby, it's cold outside, this is Inwit. Dorn's house is the safest possible place to spend Christmas anyway, fortified beyond belief. The Fists show up for Christmas. Sort of. Mostly they come and stand around awkwardly. The most active things get is when Jenga gets brought back out its box - winning is of course a point of pride. Gift favourites are of course, various iterations of building blocks.

Sanguinius / Blood Angels

A Spaceman Came Travelling - Chris de Burgh. Slightly more niche but the one that makes me think of Sanguinius the most. Christmas with the Blood Angels isn't the warmest fuzziest thing around. There's a difference between being revered and truly beloved and Sanguinius knows it like the back of his hand. It's comfortable, it's quiet. Dante is there. The Blood Angels all show up bearing presents on Christmas day. They fawn over him. He speaks to each and every one of them with a smile on his face. Eventually the knocks stop coming and the doorbell stops ringing, and he can collapse onto the couch and relax. He spends the season with his nearest and dearest. He takes a walk after Christmas dinner. He gives up Christmas day to being humble, and he lets himself be selfish on Boxing Day, with several glasses of... something red and some truly terrible Christmas movies.

Vulkan / Salamanders

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year - Andy Williams. And he damn well means it! Christmas with the Salamanders is incredible. Got nowhere to go for the holidays? Now you do. Decorating starts the second December does. The actual event starts bright and early Christmas Eve morning. Vulkan truly comes alive during the holiday - so many loved ones around! Christmas Eve is all movies and food and board games and jokes and stories by the fire. People even sleep over into Boxing Day. He greets each and every one of the people who'd attended personally, waving them off at the door with a big grin on his face. All his sons have Christmas sweaters that match his own. Expect some incredible Christmas cards in the mail with a whole host of posing Salamanders on the front. Oh well since you're all here already... you might as well stay for the New Year? Outstaying your welcome? Don't be silly.

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Six

Summary - Weeks have passed since the discovery of your Carranam status with Eris, but even as time floats by, you're struggling to grapple with the emotions that are haunting your every step, and someone appears to solidify those thoughts as truth.

Warnings - angst, fluff, found family love, mentions of trauma, ptsd themes, Nesta getting caught out, flirting, soft pining

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Eris struggled to remember a time when he was truly happy, when his life didn't revolve around the cruel clutches of his father.

It was a blessing really, how you had tumbled into his life, and he thanked the Mother each day that you spoke for him that day in the Night Court, he commended your bravery for speaking against your blood, and he watched you in awe when you had made the decision to forge the right path for yourself.

Eris' life had never been one of happiness, of fulfilment and laughter, of dancing in the rain and living in the moment, but, you had made it be that way.

Two weeks had floated by, far too quickly for his liking, but he took it as a good sign. Part of him thought that you'd retreat back into your shell that you had worked so hard to break free of once he told you of Rhys' motives, and it was hard to deny your strength when the news had only spurred you on.

It wasn't odd to see your nose burrowed into a book, and whilst Nesta read her smutty little fictions, you had focused on books that would elevate your power and understanding, and it wasn't long until you had pulled Eris to the edge of the estate, to the place where the water kissed the rocks, and asked him to touch you again.

Carranam.

It was a term that Eris hadn't heard of, and it wasn't something you had told him about, even after your powers had merged into one and black flame weaved through your joint limbs.

A soft humming danced through the air, soft crackles of the open fire sounded from the hearth before him, it's gentle glow illuminating the seating room that you had touched with comfort. Willow strewn atop you, her head on your chest that you were using as a perch for your book, your legs flung over Eris' thighs.

Two weeks had flown by, and he had never seen you look so strong, Autumn had seeped into you, and if he didn't know who you were, which wasn't possible, he would truthfully believe that you were born in Autumn. After he had told you of Rhys' motive, of the truth that had been hidden from you, you had asked Eris to help you to train your abilities, and he done so without question.

Many moons had gone where he had returned home battered and bruised, questioning why he had told you that he could take whatever you could throw at him. Turns out you could throw a lot.

And hard.

Eris had never seen darkness like it, not from Rhys or even Azriel, your darkness was playful with you, curling and coiling over your skin, but when you thought of attacking, even for a split second, those inky tendrils that resembled the blood of demons became poised and lethal, dancing like snakes over your shoulders.

The darkness didn't harm you though, it wound itself around you like a kindred spirit, like it felt sorry for you.

What are you thinking about, Fawn?

Warmth formed a shield around both of you, a shield that no one dared to prod. When you sat with one another, reading or chatting about everything and nothing, anyone who entered the room knew well enough to leave you both alone.

Your gaze flickered to him, a smirk tugged at the right corner of your lip. From what he knew, which wasn’t much, Carranam meant that you could speak telepathically to one another, that your powers balanced one another in blissful harmony.

I’m thinking about which one of your oils to steal, my skin has been feeling rather dry.

The echo of your voice in his mind was low and sultry, and you looked through your lashes at him. Eris enjoyed the moments he could spend alone with you, even if you didn’t speak much, your presence was an anchor to his consciousness, a thing that held him down to reality.

An incredulous glance was spared your way.

You look rather radiant to me.

Blushing, you turned your attention back to the book in your hands, trying not to squirm as his eyes roamed over you. It was hard to not notice the longing stares and proud eyes, the curved upward lips and the way he dressed when he knew he’d be spending the afternoon with you.

Eris always tried to impress you at every turn.

An array of fruits lay on platters on the table to your side, he knew that you were a stress eater, he had watched you pluck grapes from their vines at the turn of every page to try and distract your mind from whatever raged within it.

Golden light glimmered about the room. It was only you two that evening, Lucien had taken Elain out for dinner to silence her incessant begging to see the court where he had grown up, and Nesta was burrowed in her room on the other side of the house, no doubt nose deep in one of her fantasy novels or thinking about Cassian and everything that had transpired.

The guilt had settled into your heart, the guilt of being the reason that Nesta had walked away from her mate, and from her own sister. For you.

Eris’ fingers drifted up your calves, as if he sensed where your mind had roamed to.

I’m fine.

It’s okay not to be.

Silence.

Huffing, you folded the page of the book so that you could resume it later and placed the large thing onto the table with a dull thud. Willow sighed in your lap, and you scratched the place between her eyes to coax her back to slumber.

I feel bad.

Eris shuffled, craning his body to look at you properly, his hand resting gingerly on your knee, waiting for you to continue. It was so difficult to concentrate when he touched you, from the ghosting lingering hands on your hips during training, to the tender touches to your shoulders when you were bustling about the kitchen.

You’re all risking so much for me. Nesta has lost her mate, her and Elain have lost Feyre, Lucien has lost yet another home. I struggle to believe that it’s all worth it.

You had cried the moment Eris had admitted that Rhys had threatened war against the Autumn Court, a place you had come to love dearly. The browning leaves and the golden sun, the scent of bonfires and cinnamon, and the gentle chirping of the foxes that scoured the woodlands were what gave you solace, even the ways his people looked at you with hope and awe made you feel like you belonged.

We are your court, y/n, Eris spoke to you sternly, his voice echoing through the blank canvas that shrouded your mind. There is nothing that we wouldn’t do for you.

You shouldn’t have to.

The ability to speak to one another through your minds was a different feeling compared to that of Rhys' daemati talents. You were glad that you hadn't been gifted the ability yourself. Rhys was able to infiltrate and control the minds of anyone he wished, he had the power to influence their thoughts and, in some case, shatter their minds entirely. What you and Eris, your Carranam, shared was unlike that darkness, what you shared was the brightest of lights and warmest of summers, speaking through your consciousness felt natural and welcomed, like returning home after a long day, what you shared felt relieving.

"A home isn't a place, y/n. It's a person. Home is wherever you make it with the people who build it with you," Eris' voice was as soft as autumn rain, rain that drizzled over the trees and gave them life whilst the sun poured through the branches.

You went to curl your knees to your chest but Eris wouldn't let you, he didn't want you to retreat into yourself, drowning in guilt. Eris lay his hands firmly on your knees to keep your legs draped over him, to have your smooth skin brushing against the cloth of his briefs, to let you know that your place with him was one of safety and respect.

"And if I decide that my home is here?" Your question trailed off, you fiddled with seams of your nightgown, a long plum coloured satin number that was modest but sinful in the same swing.

"I would be honoured," Eris' fingers reached for your face, grazing the curve beneath your ear and following it across your jaw all whilst his eyes admired the fire burning in your own.

If Eris knew of the effect he had on you, he didn't let on, how he made your heart race and thoughts cloud, you weren't sure how he'd react if he did. Would he turn you away? Would he sternly tell you that your place was not meant to be by his side? Would he choose you?

You weren't sure what to think of it, but you knew for certain that you were so screwed.

The day had long since disappeared and you didn't know how long you'd been sat there with Willow and Eris, in that bubble of serenity that you actively sought out since the first instance it had occurred. It had been a long day, your mind was reeling with pain and guilt, and you had needed to feel a moment of peace, a moment where you felt like you belonged somewhere in the world. That's when Eris had led you to the seating room, he had lit the fire and whistled to his hounds, all of which lay scattered around you on the free seats and on the rugs adorning the floor, and then there was Willow who always found her place beside you.

Eris couldn't even find the will to be annoyed about it before he had nestled in beside you, placed your legs on his lap, and told you that no matter what happened you would always have a place in Autumn, and, if you chose to leave, he would happily give you whatever it is you would need to build a life that you wanted, that you deserved.

It was his own tortured soul that craved to give you whatever you desired, he couldn't give himself the same luxury, but he could give it to you.

As if sensing his own self-doubt and the lingering emotion of feeling completely unworthy to breathe the same air as you or else taint it, Eris pulled back, and an unwelcomed shiver ran up your spine at the sudden movement, "It's late," the look on your face wounded him, the flash of dismissal that clasped around the ring of burnt orange and molten gold in your irises.

Shaking your head softly, you rose from the seat, Willow groaning at the movement of you sliding out from beneath her, "It is," you reached for the book on the table and held it close to your chest, taking a moment before retreating toward the staircase but not lingering there at all before pattering upward and disappearing from sight.

Gods.

Eris ran a hand over his face and threw his head backward, sighing. There was nothing that he wanted more than to know what your lips tasted like, how they would feel moulded to his, but he couldn't let himself find out. After everything you had been through, you deserved real love, you deserved to know what it felt like to be independent, and Eris didn't believe that a life with him would do you any amount of good. Eris believed that he was an evil male, many would agree with the thought, and he couldn't allow himself to give into that carnal desire to be with you.

In whatever capacity you could allow, Eris wanted to be in your life, and if that was simply as a friend, then he would choke down every emotion he could to ensure that friendship lived as long as you both did.

"She doesn't believe it, you know?" Eris' head snapped to the side to see Nesta lingering in the archway to the room, her silver eyes flittering about the space with intrigue as she inhaled deeply and smirked softly, to herself. When Eris didn't answer, waiting for her to explain, she continued, "If y/n thought that you were evil, truly evil, then she would have never aided you that day."

Of course Nesta Archeron had to be the voice of reason and truth, "She deserves better," Nesta cocked her head to the side and examined him, but more than that, she was noting the moulded scents that clung to the air.

A tingling harmonisation made the hairs on her arms stand on end, it was both of you, your scent of freshly blown out matches and adored parchment with a hint of jasmine, and his scent of pine and warm oranges, of subtle spices and apple pie straight from the oven.

Stupid. Blind. Fools.

Nesta took a step into the room, allowing your scents to wash over her, a strong prominent smell that threatened to overwhelm her senses, "After I was Made, y/n was one of the very few people who understood me, she saw straight through the mask I had dared to wear around her and picked it from my face piece by piece."

Settling into the armchair across the way from the High Lord, Nesta smiled fondly, lost in the memories of you, and continued, "I wasn't the best of sisters to Feyre and Elain, but as soon as I met y/n, I found myself working for a second chance to do things right. That's what y/n can do, she can make you feel like you can change, like there's still time to turn the tables and be the person you have always wanted to be," Eris listened intently, a soft smile on his lips, "I may have lost Cassian, my mate," she swallowed hard, "And my sister, and nephew, and friends if you could even call them that," Nesta looked to Eris, she looked deep into his soul and saw parts of you burning within it, "But I would lose it all again, in every life, if it meant that I had her. The person who made me believe in the goodness of the world, in the light that existed in me, and mended parts of me that I didn't even realise were broken."

It was an honest conversation, one that Eris didn't think would ever occur again.

"She wouldn't allow you to go to war for her," the atmosphere shifted, "She would sooner rather give herself back to a life in that prison than risk anything happening to you, and you wouldn't be able to stop her from doing it."

"Is it something she thinks about?"

Nesta craned her head to look over her shoulder, half-expecting you to be stood there, but when you weren't, having confined yourself to your room prior to Nesta's appearance, she sighed, "I know it is."

Time halted for a moment, and his breath became caught in his throat. So much work had gone into training your abilities, from both of you, if war was to rage on then no army would be able to stand against you.

That was the problem.

In doing that, in decimating armies and going to war against your own brother, the entire land would see you as what Rhys had made them fear. A monster. A putrid thing of the darkest pits of Hel.

"You never told her what you found," Nesta stiffened, "When you went Under The Mountain, you told her that Azriel didn't find anything. Not we, not I, just Azriel," Nesta leaned forward in her seat, her silver eyes blazing with flames of warning, "What are you hiding, Nesta? What did you find Under The Mountain? What did Amarantha do?"

"Rhys can never know, and she can only know when she is ready to."

And so Nesta told him what she had seen, what she had felt, and once she had finished, she sat back and said nothing as the colour drained from his face.

A morning alone was exactly what you needed.

The early morning light had woken you before the rest of the house, and the sleep you had gotten was deep enough to allow you to dream, dream soundly enough that you had woken feeling lighter than you had felt in weeks.

Birdsong drifted through the woods, your cloak drifted along in the gentle morning breeze, and the dry leaves beneath your feet crunched under yours and Willow's weight as she trotted beside you over the mound of earth. Axos snorted in the background as you nearly slipped over a damp twig that slipped under your foot, and you looked back to the stallion with a craned brow.

The courage to ride Axos on your own had sprouted from nowhere, the notion of it called to you as soon as you had glanced to the cream riding boots from Eris, and you had dressed in your riding gear quickly before entering the stables and asking one of the stableboys to ready the stallion for you.

Axos was more surprised to see you than you were to see him, and the beast had even lowered himself a few inches to make your ascent a little easier.

You weren't entirely sure where you were going, or where you wanted to end up that morning, but it had been hours and you were happy to find the place where your feet wished to carry you.

Unbound hair drifted over your face, and you blew the strands away as you continued to climb upward, up and up until you couldn't see Axos anymore, up and up until the ground and air began to turn cold and your breath was wisps of smoke before your face.

Expecting a spectacular view, your heart stopped beating in your chest when you saw it.

The large black wings and the coiling grin.

"Hello, sister," his voice drawled, he was dressed in his usual attire, a black suit of sorts, wearing a face you couldn't quite read.

Rhys was far enough away that he couldn't reach through the wards and grab you but close enough that you could feel his anger rippling along the barrier of the Autumn Court.

Looking about the space, you felt like a rabbit backed into a corner, waiting for the dogs to tear it apart. Willow bared her teeth at him, and he looked at her with such insignificance that it made your blood roar.

Turn around, y/n. Just walk away.

Those violet eyes roamed over you, flaring at the sight of your unbound hair, the cloak, the clothes covering your skin and the riding boots smudged with mud. How Autumn had poisoned you, "You look different."

"Why are you here?"

Rhys smirked, finding amusement in your reluctance to engage with him, "Just because we can't get in, doesn't mean we can't go above."

The earth rumbled as another body joined the fray, and you winced when you saw Azriel take his place at Rhys' side. Of course he had been tasked with soaring over the court, he was keeping an eye on you.

"I knew it would only be a matter of time until you ventured out on your own," Rhys stated. Azriel's eyes were wide as he took you in, his lips cast downward and eyebrows scrunched, contorted in pain as he saw the same sentiment lying in your eyes, "It's time to stop this nonsense, y/n. You've made your point, now it's time to come home."

In the distance, you heard Axos call out to you, Willow moved to stand in front of you, seemingly believing that she alone could protect you if the High Lord dared to make a single move to reach through those shields.

"I'm not coming back."

Rolling his neck to keep his temper in check, Rhys clenched and then relaxed his fists, exhaling through his mouth is a perfect o, "Do you know what is going to happen if you don't? You are property of the Night Court, people have been killed for less."

There was no choice but to throw up your mask, "The only one I belong to is myself, and you'd do well to remember that. Let's not forget who holds the true power here, brother."

Matching his façade of calm, you caught his lip twitch, "I will kill them all, Nesta, Lucien and Elain, even your precious Eris, and every male, female, or child who would dare to try and keep you from me, and I will make you watch as I do it, until you submit yourself."

Kill Nesta. Elain and Lucien. Eris.

You would not let your mask break, you would not let him see the panic that ravaged within you, "I will burn your court to ash if you even try it. I wouldn't bother testing me," you raised your hand against your side, allowing those black flames to spark at your fingertips and lick up the skin of your forearm. Azriel gasped softly, the flame reminding him all to well of his own afflictions, and he stepped back.

Wincing in your chest, your heart skipped a beat or two, you had never wanted Azriel to think that you'd hurt him, even if your bargain prevented such a thing from ever occurring. The horror in his eyes made you believe for a moment that you were the monster Rhys had spread the word of.

"Not even you could survive my wrath, Rhys. And now that I know of everything you have done to keep me chained, you're lucky that a shield stands between us."

Rhys smirked, it was sadistic and menacing, it was something that fuelled your nightmares, "Everything I have ever done was to protect you. The power you have is not natural, it is not from this world."

You inhaled deeply, a feline grin tugged at your lips and you kept quiet, waiting.

"Stop pretending that her power doesn't threaten everything that you are, Rhysand, which isn't much," you didn't need to glance over your shoulder to know that Eris was stood behind you, you could feel his face hovering to the side of your head, you could feel his fingers move to rest on your waist.

"I would say that it was nice to see you both, but that would be a lie. Don't come here again," you turned your back to them and caught a glance of Eris, of his stone cold face and deadly stare, deadly enough that you were sure that Rhys wouldn't be safe from it even if he was six feet under.

Making the decision to walk away, to descend the hill, shivers prickled down your spine at the words that flew through the air, "I won't warn you again, y/n. Come home, or I will make sure that you are left with nothing."

Eris placed a hand on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric atop your skin in attempt to soothe you, and he guided you onward, and you didn't once look back at the males you once called family.

Neither of you spoke a word on the descent, even Willow padded alongside you silently with her head hung low, her nose kissing the ground. As soon as the ground was flat and Axos was back in your view, you couldn't help but speed to the nearest tree and use it as leverage as you emptied the contents of your stomach.

Palms rubbed slow circles into your back, Eris' soft voice called to you and he moved your hair from your shoulders so that it didn't become covered in the liquid. After a few moments, you let out a panting breath and wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

"I didn't realise how far we'd gone. I'm sorry."

Eris looked to you confused and hurt, hurt that you'd think he would ever scold you for exploring your home, "Are you alright?"

The nod you gave him wasn't at all convincing, that paired with your shaking form, he knew that Rhys had gotten under your skin. Without hesitation, Eris pulled you into his chest, entangling his fingers in your hair and held you as sobs broke through your lips, "I didn't want to believe it, I didn't want to believe that it was true," the sounds of your broken words hurt him.

Amongst all of the fire and sass, amongst all of the kind words and wonder, there was still a little girl inside of you that wanted nothing more than to be loved, to be valued and protected in the most pure sense possible.

An entire life of chains had dulled you, taken parts of you that weren't theirs to take, and Eris was finding it hard to restrain his anger, he was finding it hard to not set the High Lord alight and chuckle as he burned.

Whatever happened to Rhys from here on out was solely your decision, Eris wouldn't take that from you.

And in that moment, as he stood in the woodland of his court with you broken and crying in his arms, did he mull over Nesta's words in his mind and decide that loving you openly was better than depriving you both of the notion.

Love was a risk, but he would rather waltz into the unknown, whether that mean death or not, with you by his side than allow either of you to spend another moment believing that you were unworthy of happiness.

Authors Note

It's getting hot in hereeeee

Hope you love it! x

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla

[periwinkle39]

Jonsa Musicians AUs

Once again following @esther-dot's lead and putting some Jonsa fic recs out into the universe via a collection of one my favorite AUs.

Previously, I did Harry Potter AUs. This one casts Jon and/or Sansa as musicians. This is not a super common AU in this fandom, but I happen to have a soft spot for it. Feel free to share your own recs in this genre.

Hard candy by @kingsansa - Jon is a "washed up rock star" and Sansa is a former Disney kid going for a darker sound (I got a bit of Olivia Rodrigo vibes). Sexy funny and the music references are on point. We're told their first kiss was to Fleetwood Mac, which is *chef's kiss*. Rating: Explicit

Like glitter and gold by kay25 - Jon is the bassist in a band led by Robb with Theon on keys and Gendry on drums. Sansa is a photographer who documents the band and this one-shot is worth it for the description of the images on the album cover alone. Rating: Explicit

Tangled up in blue by me (sorry for the self promotion, but there aren't a ton of stories that I could find in this AU space 😅). Jon is a struggling singer/songwriter who meets Sansa on the eve of her divorce and they have a Before Sunrise-inspired night on the streets of Chicago. A couple of years later, he's famous and his most famous song is about her. Rating: General audiences

For your consideration by @cellsshapedlikestars - WIP - Jon is in a band and Sansa is an actress. Before meeting, she innocently name-drops him to get out of a sticky interview moment, and he's not thrilled. Hijinks ensue but also the soft emotions of being young artists who want to be taken seriously. Rating: Teen and up audiences

And in the "Sansa is a musician of Taylor Swift-level fame but needs to hide out for a while" subgenre:

Across the universe by @cellsshapedlikestars - This is also a Doona! AU. I have never watched that but this fic makes me want to. Another excellent album cover description. Rating: Mature

All eyes on us by @theshipshipper - WIP - Social media AU (all visuals) that will have you in stitches and secretly rooting for Rickon and his crush. Rating: General audiences.