#familial love is a whole different ballpark for me so I didn’t want to put characters who are related

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5 and 6 for the fandom ask thingy!!!

5) Favorite platonic Paring

Not ace attorney related but-

Giorno and Mista??? From JJBA???

Badass Mafia boss and Right Hand man duo ftw!!

Also Ryoko and Josuke from JJBA!!!

We only got them for a short while but they were really cute :]]]

Also Ryoko and Josuke are respectively related to Kakyoin and Jotaro. Jotakak is my favorite jojo ship???? so it check out

6) favorite headcanon

Already answered but I’ll give another one!!

I love when stoic and/or egotistical characters have a soft spot for one specific character. And by soft spot I mean DOWN FKING BAD. They crave the love and attention of this person. And if the situation allows it, they bottom COUGHKAZUMACOUGH

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Gin & Tonics (and Parking Spots)

Summary: In which Venus finally meets the infamous Dagger Squad. The fourth installment of the Parking Spots universe

Warnings: Language, Venus being Venus, Jake being lovesick, suggestive language, Venus has an actual name but it's only used twice

A sea of khaki that reeked of testosterone everywhere one turned. 

It was Venus' worst nightmare. 

She made her way past the crowd of people, avoiding the stares. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she stuck out like a sore thumb. A "civilian" is what Jake called it. 

Apparently "not a soldier" was too simple for the military. And "wasn't coerced by a recruiter to sell my soul to the US government" was too long. 

"If you get there before me or Javy, just sit by Penny. She's the owner. You'll like her a lot." 

Venus rolled her eyes at her fiancé, "I like anyone who can make a good drink, Jake." 

Jake smiled before pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, “Y’know what I mean. She’ll look out for you.”

“What can I get you my dear?” Venus looked up to find an older woman behind the bar. 

Her green eyes looked kind. She suddenly understood what Jake meant. 

“I’ll just take a gin and tonic,” She shrugged her shoulders, trying her best to appear indifferent, undeterred by the borderline lewd stares. When getting ready, she thought the yellow dress would be a great choice for meeting Jake’s friends. Not too formal, not too informal. It was flattering, but not too revealing. She even put thought into her hair, opting to style it in waves rather than the natural curls that Jake adored. 

“You wore that on our first date,” Jake said softly, a smile gracing his face. 

She lowered the hanger in surprise, “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he reached a hand out to cup one side of her sweet face, “How could I forget?”

She didn’t account for the fact she would be alone for a bit. No, she was far too busy freaking out about meeting her fiance’s friends for the first time. 

Fuck. 

“They’re gonna love you V.”

Perhaps if she had some experience of being in a serious relationship and meeting their friends, anxiety wouldn’t be coursing through her body. She had met a few friends of the person she was dating before, but it was usually at a party where after introductions, she was left alone to her own devices. 

The idea that someone would want to introduce her to other parts of their life, to become a part of them, was new. That they thought she was important enough to do so. Family? Sure. That was a given. But friends? The people you willingly chose to spend time with?

 A whole different ballpark. Though in this case, perhaps turmac was more fitting. 

“Since you’re new, I’m going to need to see your ID hun,” The woman, presumably Penny, said, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

"Of course," She held her head high as pulled her driver's license from her wallet, ignoring the stares, trying to play off her hands shaking. 

If they wanted her to move, they could fucking ask. 

The bartender, who had to be Penny, looked at the ID, a soft smile forming, “Well Danica, I can see why Jake calls you Venus.”

“You…. know who I am?” Great, there was already a preconceived idea of who she was. Before she even had a chance, her fate was sealed. 

What was she known as? The girl who yelled at Jake in a parking lot? The girl who threw bread rolls at him? 

Penny continued to smile, “Of course! Jake is always excited to show me the latest picture he’s taken of you. The flowers you two got from the farmer’s market are beautiful by the way.”

Heat rushed to her face while recalling last weekend’s adventures. Jake insisted on taking her picture by the flower stand. It was strange at first-still was-how his Instagram that had once been only thirst traps workout pictures were now full of her and their adventures together. 

As much fun as it was going through the older posts and giving him hell about it, she loved looking at the newer photos, the ones that showed their journey together. 

“He’s a good photographer, I’ll give him that,” A small smile began to form on Venus' face, her shoulders visibly relaxing. 

“Don’t give him too much. He needs to be kept on his toes,” Penny laughed in agreement, “I’m Penny by the way. So where is the man of the hour?"

Penny handed her a gin and tonic as she explained, "Had a last minute meeting with Simpson. He should be coming soon, as is the rest of the squad from my understanding." 

Penny raised an eyebrow, "So you finally get to meet them! They have been dying to meet you. Been asking Jake about it for months." 

The grip on her drink tightened. 

Jake had a reputation. And with that reputation, came preconceived notions of what kind of girl he would date. 

Venus was not what people thought of when it came to Jake's ideal type. While his family adored her, they all admitted they were surprised when Jake first called to tell them about the woman he met in a parking lot. Hell, even her family was surprised when she described him. They still adored him, loved him, and insisted on serving a traditionally prepared lechon at the engagement party.

But friends were a whole different breed. One willingly chose to spend time with them. Friends were honest, and more often than not, their opinion was highly valued. 

She had learned that the hard way. 

"I mean, she's nice but do you see it going anywhere? I don't." 

"She's really not your type, man." 

"She's kind of a bitch." 

A soft hand gently laid on top of hers, breaking Venus out of her thoughts. Was it motherly instinct or was her anxiety that plainly written across her face? 

She found Penny smiling, "They're so excited to meet you. They already adore you and ask about you constantly." 

They were looking forward to meeting you, she repeated in her head. That means they want to meet you. Adore is such a specific word, Penny wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. 

She clung onto Penny's words. They were nuggets of truth, a shield against the negative thoughts that clouded her brain. The evidence that those shitty experiences were in the past, that the situation she was in now was entirely different, was better. 

Her therapist would be so proud. 

A more relaxed, genuine smile appeared on Venus’ face, the first one she could recall occurring since pulling into the parking lot of the Hard Deck. 

“I look forward to meeting everyone. I’ll take another gin and tonic when you get a chance!” 

“I got it covered Penny,” a smooth voice said. She turned around, half expecting (moreso hoping) to see Jake, despite the lack of Texan drawl. 

When she turned around, there was no tall blonde with sparkling emerald green eyes and a smile so white, she could see it from outer space. 

Instead, a Hawaiin shirt so ugly that no Dad at a BBQ would go near greeted her. 

Her lips formed a tight line, her eyes narrowing. It was the same look she wore when dealing with annoying patients or annoying men. 

“Welcome to the Hard Deck,” The man said with a wink. His eyes were nice, but the caterpillar that occupied the space between his nose and upper lip was what she noticed first. 

She recognized him immediately. Jake had given her plenty of information so she could recognize members of the dagger squad. 

Bold of him to assume she would just go up to them. But maybe she could have some fun with this. 

Penny gave her a look, one that silently asked Should I tell him? Venus just shook her head, turning back to face the infamous Bradley Bradshaw. 

“How do you know it’s my first time?” She asked coyly with a raised eyebrow before bringing the drink back to her lips. 

“With a face like that? I wouldn't be able to forget ya." Did he also get his pickup lines from the eighties, in addition to his shirts?

Bradlet leaned against the railing of the bar, bending slightly so they were at eye level, “So what brings you here? Besides fate.” 

Her eyes could not roll any harder. How many more lines would it take before he started singing Jerry Lewis? 

“Well, after hearing about it so much, I just had to see the mustache in person,” She responded, moving her drink to her left hand. 

If there had to be a sound that best represented Bradley’s face, it was a record scratch. The best he could respond with was a very confused “Excuse me?”

“I’ll give you credit, you pull off the look pretty well, despite it consisting of a pornstache and clothes from the part of the eighties that even Stranger Things won’t touch.”

“It’s not….it’s not a pornstache.”

A darked haired woman clad in a khaki uniform nearby snorted. 

Venus grinned, “It is absolutely a pornstache. But some people are into that. I don’t get it, but good for you Rooster.”

Bradley's eyes knitted together in confusion,“Do I…..do I know you?”

"I would hope you know of me. According to Javy, Jake talks about me a lot. Anyways, we should become best friends. Jake’s reaction will be hilarious.”

It was then Bradley finally looked down, seeing the huge emerald ring on her left hand.

And that's when it hit Bradley Bradshaw like a fucking train. 

"You're Venus?!" 

It was much louder than she would have liked, the statement causing several people to look at her with curious stares. 

Just play it cool, they all work for the military, you actually do important shit, she told herself over and over again. 

“In the flesh!" She flashed a smile before taking a huge sip of her drink, trying to ignore the fact that another pilot was now approaching her. 

She was going to need another drink to get through this. 

"You're Hangman's girl? The one who told him to fuck off when you first met him?"The dark haired woman asked, practically shoving Bradley out of the way. 

The infamous Venus shrugged, "I didn't exactly tell him to fuck off. I told him it made no sense why he could fly million-dollar jets but was a shit driver. Phoenix?" 

Natasha nodded, “Glad he’s no longer hiding you. I’ve been telling him to bring you around ever since he arrived late to a debriefing with hearts in his eyes as he talked about a woman who referred to him as Hangnail.” 

The comment brough relief. At least one person liked her, at least one person wanted to get to know her. 

Natasha grabbed her arm, “Come on. The rest of the gang is going to lose their minds when they learn you’re finally here.”

Through the throngs of pilots, Natasha led her to a table filled with other men who all looked vaguely familiar. The tight lipped smile remained on her face as she straightened her shoulders, ready to face the (multiple) men of the hour. 

“Hey guys, guess who I met?”

“V! You made it!” Before she could say anything, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, picking her up. 

“Javy, I swear to God if you don’t put me down-” She couldn’t help but laugh. Just like with Jake, Javy had become the older brother Venus never knew she wanted. 

Knowing Javy would be there was what made her feel comfortable enough to arrive without Jake. Winning over your fiancé's best friend was quite the confidence boost.

Maybe it was the fact he actually made an effort to get to know her. Maybe it was the fact he took all her digs about the Saints in stride. But with Jake, the three of them had become a trio and she didn't mind at all. 

"Hey guys! This is Danica! Aka Venus, aka the one who got Jake to settle down!"

"You really know how to build suspense Coyote," Nat deadpanned before taking a seat next to Bob. Javy lowered her down, her feet returning to the ground. 

"You're Venus? The one he proposed to after eight months of dating?" A man with shining brown eyes and energy that could best be described as a golden retriever asked. 

Her features softened as she looked down at her emerald ring,  "When you know, you know. I also take it you're Mickey?"

"Wow, I guess Hangman talks about us more than we thought," Mickey joked, earning the chuckles from others. 

She looked back up, that signature smirk having returned, "We're also having a long engagement, that was my compromise." 

"That's not what he said," Phoenix scoffed, recalling the different potential venues Jake had already shown her. 

She continued fidgeting with her engagement ring. It wasn’t a matter of Venus being unfamiliar to having all eyes on her. But with Jake's friends, it was different. Another layer of being official that she wasn’t used to. 

"Well, you deserve all the drinks for being able to put up with Bagman,” Mickey commented, as if he sensed her nerves.  

“Bagman?” she asked, a mischievous glint forming in her big eyes. 

"It's what we call him when we feel he hasn't earned being called his proper name, which I'm sure as you know, is most of the time," A man with glasses and a thin lopsided smile that was sweeter than sugar explained. 

Her eyes light up, "Oh, I am definitely using that. Also, are you Bob?" 

Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to the bespectacled WSO, “You’re so cute! I’m adopting you.” For added effect, she placed a hand on each of Bob’s cheeks. 

“Does that mean Bagman is my dad?" Bob asked with an almost grimace. 

"Yeah, but I'll make sure he chills out," She reassured him with a soft smile. 

“Wait, she’s actually nice?” Reuben whispered to Natasha and Bradley, “The way Jake describes her-”

“Look, if she can find redeemable qualities in Bagman of all people, she must have a lot going for her,” Natasha interjected. 

As time passed, Venus found herself more and more at ease with the group. Despite having heard so much, they still took the time to ask questions, to get to know her. They wouldn’t only talk about Jake (not that she wanted them to), and they actually tried to include her in the conversation, despite her lack of knowledge about their field. 

It was different. It was nice. 

Once drinks got low, Venus offered to go get the next round. Bradley followed her, still apologizing for the flirting earlier. 

She chuckled, “It’s totally fine. In fact, I think it’s hilarious that you and Bagman have a similar type,” Her eyes narrowed, “Which by the way, I know plenty of cute, spitfire nurses who are single.”

Bradley’s face turned bright red, “I’m uh-I don’t need any help with-”

“Look, I already plan to find Bob's future wife, might as well find yours while I’m at it. There are people out there who are into what you call a mustache,” She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t get it, but I’m willing to find them for you.” 

It was the way she mixed sweetness with snark that confused Bradley, as well as everyone else. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bradley finally asked. 

“I’m not going to tell you his dick size,” A devious smirk adorned her face, causing her to resemble the image the squad had conjured in their minds when Jake first told them how the ‘future Mrs. Seresin’ referred to him as a knockoff Ken doll. 

“That’s not what-”

“But I will say-”

“Please don’t.”

“You could have named him Hungman and it still would have been accurate.”

“I really, really don’t need to hear this.” Bradley’s face was now bright red, whereas the woman next to him casually ordered the next round of beers and a lemon seltzer for Bob with a grin on her face. 

“You’re telling me the men in the navy don’t talk about their dick sizes? Least of all, the person whose call sign means cock?”

“It’s a bird-”

“That also means cock.”

Bradley stared at her, quite frankly afraid that if he said another word, he'd have to hear about Hangman’s dick. 

She stared right back, able to hold off the impromptu staring contest for a few moments before erupting into a fit of giggles.

When Jake first rambled on about the beautiful woman he had met at a coffee shop, who he insisted was his future wife, Bradley (and everyone else) thought the blonde pilot had lost his damn mind. 

But after seeing her truly smile, Bradley could understand why Jake became so smitten. 

“How….do you two work?” It was an honest question. Javy asked the same thing the first time he went out with you and Jake. She even wondered about it herself when they first got together. 

She shrugged, fingers fiddling with Jake’s class ring that was on a silver chain around her neck, “We just….do. He calms me down. I remind him sometimes it’s better to be quiet and just listen. We both make each other smile and laugh. It’s nice. More than nice. It’s wonderful.” 

Bradley noticed what she was fiddling with, "So that’s where it went.”

“He has a ring of mine that he wears with his dog tags. We traded before he went on deployment.” She shrugged again, as if to suggest it wasn’t a big deal. 

The soft smile on her face suggested the exact opposite. 

Bradley grinned, “Do you know he also wears one of your hair ties around his wrist?”

Her smile only continued to grow, "He says the more pieces he has of me on him, the luckier he is in the sky."  

Truthfully, Venus wasn't sure what to expect when she began dating Jake. Certainly not him being such a romantic. It was strange at first. Why would someone go through so much effort to bring flowers, to make dinner reservations, to plan dates when they already had you?

When Jake scoffed at the very idea of not needing to impress it was the first time she truly reflected on previous relationships and just how shitty they were. 

"Baby, they were awful," Jake pressed a chaste kiss to her shoulder, "You deserve so much more than what you've gotten." 

A hand on your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts. 

"I think I just saw that Jeep Wrangler you love so much just pulled up," Natasha teased. 

She rolled your eyes, despite a small smile remaining as you shook your head, "I hate that fucking car." 

"I'm glad someone else agr-"

"Bradshaw, don't get me started on your car choices." Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a look. 

Only she got to insult that hideous car. 

Bradley promptly closed his mouth, not wanting to face her infamous wrath. 

He was still reeling from the Pornstache comment. 

So instead, he simply helped her carry the round of drinks back to the rest of the squad. 

"So Venus, what does the woman who made Jake Seresin lovesick do?" Payback asked. 

"I'm a level three neonatal nurse at the local hospital," she explained, "Which is partly why it's been so hard to meet y'all. My schedule can be pretty irregular." 

The table was quiet as they processed this new piece of information. When they first heard about her, they couldn't help but imagine a cutthroat business woman, a manager, a consultant. 

Not a nurse. Particularly one who dealt with children. 

"So you um, you-" 

She set her glass down with force, "I do not play with babies and change diapers all day. My job is to keep premature babies alive and ensure they're able to go home with their family and live as healthy of a life as possible." 

Her voice was tense, no doubt due to past dismissive comments regarding her job. 

Bob shifted closer to her, "I think that's amazing. One of my sister's kids was born at 28 weeks and she still swears to this day that if it weren't for y'all, she would not have been able to keep it together." 

Her shoulders visibly relaxed as a smile formed on her face, "I like you Bob. I'm going to keep you." 

Mickey spoke up, "Hey, wait a second. My girlfriend Cielo and I have already put in a request to adopt Bob." 

She put an arm around Bob's shoulder, shaking her head, "Nah, I call dibs." 

"We knew him first!" If one didn’t see the gleam of playfulness that laced Mickey’s amber eyes, his tone would sound completely defensive. 

Bob finally spoke up, "Just a friendly reminder that I'm thirty one years old." 

She turned to the soft spoken WSO, "Which is why I am determined to find you your Missus." 

"Get in line, Cielo and I have been working on that." 

Natasha snorted, "We've all been working on that." 

Bob signed, putting a palm to his face. 

"Hey V, I think your man just walked in." Maybe it was fate, maybe the universe took pity on Bob. 

But when Venus looked up upon hearing Reuben's words, her heart skipped a beat. 

There he was. 

Jake was over at the bar, waiting for Penny to take notice of him. No doubt ordering gin and tonic, along with a basket of fries for Venus. He always made sure she had something to snack on. 

"Wanna see something?" She asked the gang. 

Without waiting, she put two fingers to her mouth, a loud whistle coming out. The noise caught the attention of several people, including a blonde man with eyes greener than the emerald that adorned her engagement ring. 

When Jake's eyes met hers, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes lit up, a smile overtaking his face. 

"Hi loverboy," she called out with a wave. Oh she tried to smirk, try to play it off as if she was indifferent to the sight of her fiancé. 

But Danica's eyes told a different story. 

"Venus!" Jake called out, getting even more attention. Not that he noticed. He was too busy practically shoving folks out of the way to get to the table. 

Maybe she picked up her pace to meet Jake. Maybe Jake knocked a drink over as his hands placed themselves underneath her thighs, allowing him to pick her up in one swoop. 

It’s not like either of them were paying attention. 

—-----------------------------------------

To say Jake Seresin was annoyed was an understatement.

His day had started out so well. He got to wake up not on base in a small, old twin bed, but instead in the arms of his fiancé. 

Then he had to go to work. 

Jake loved his job. He was damn good at it- one of the best, in fact. He enjoyed being at work, which was something many couldn't say. 

But not when his job caused him to be late, unable to be with the woman he loved, especially on a night where she needed him the most. 

Normally, she would have already met his friends before Jake proposed to her. But thanks to the nature of his job, which involved spur-of-the-moment missions, he had done things a bit backwards. 

If it weren't for the nature of his job, Venus could have met the squad back when she only had the title of girlfriend. 

Sure, she still would have put pressure on herself, as was in her nature. But decidedly less pressure. 

Jake wanted to be there for her, to reassure her that she was in fact, the most incredible person he had ever met and that his friends would see that immediately. To put a hand on her shoulder whenever he saw that smile begin to fade, self doubt creeping into her mind. 

Which was why he was all but running into the Hard Deck. His meeting with Cyclone lasted much longer than intended. Normally Jake wasn’t super concerned about showing up late to the Hard Deck, but today was the worst day it could happen. 

Deep in his heart, he knew she would be just fine. At worst, she wouldn’t approach the squad until Javy arrived and would stick by Penny. 

Jake just wanted her to feel comfortable, to feel at ease. He wanted to support her, like any decent husband would. 

So yeah, maybe he was taking advantage of his status, knowing that no one would say anything if he pushed past them without a single excuse me. Jake knew his great grandmother was rolling in her grave, but he hoped Mimi would understand all in due time. 

“Hey Penny, have you happened to see an absolute goddess with an affinity for gin and tonics?” Jake asked once he arrived at the front of the bar, ignoring the glares. 

Penny simply smiled, "I think your friends found her. She was also pretty low on her beverage last time I saw her." 

"Well, we can't have that. I'll take a Miller Light, along with a Gin and tonic with a basket of fries." Jake recalled that she had texted him around two that she was on her lunch break. He doubted she had much time, if any, to eat when she got home from work. 

Order fries first, then find the love of his life. 

If only the bar wasn't slammed. 

He was trying his best not to be impatient. It wasn't Penny's fault, the Hard Deck was always like this when a new class arrived to base. 

But damn was it frustrating. The minutes seemed to tick away. Jake looked around, unable to spot his fiancé amidst the sea of khaki. 

Until he heard that whistle. 

He looked around, Bradshaw finally moving his bigass head to reveal the person that made his heart soar. 

She was sitting with the rest of the gang, smiling. She looked at ease, as if she had always been a part of this crew. 

Jake knew this was possible, that she had it in herself to open up and connect, rather than sit at the bar and wait for him to come. 

But sometimes she forgets that she can. 

So when Jake doesn't need to remind her, he can't help but beam. 

"Hi loverboy!" His heart fluttered when she sent him a wink, along with her smirk that he fell in love with the first time he saw (it also made him hard but that's neither here nor there). 

So yes, he did gently push some people out of the way to get to the table. And he did knock a drink over when he went to pick her up. But in Jake's defense, he hadn't seen her since seven-thirty in the morning and it was only Bradley's drink. 

"Hi baby," He said as he pressed his lips to her cheek. 

She rolled her eyes, though the smile still remained on her face, "You act like you haven't seen me in forever."

"Because I haven't," Jake murmured against her skin, "It's been ten hours." 

"Ten hours?" She repeated, her tone teasing, "You're incorrigible." 

"I don't know what that means, but thanks V," He said before pressing his lips against hers.  

Before Jake, she wasn't used to PDA. It wasn't a matter of not desiring it, she did. But none of her past relationships were into it, so it wasn't something she pursued. 

And then she met Jake. Jake, who would just grab her hand without saying anything. Jake, whose natural inclination was to wrap his arms around her. Jake, who would make the effort to kiss her, even if he was just passing by to get a drink or to unload the dishwasher. 

She liked it. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as his lips moved to her nose, then forehead. 

"Can you put me down? You're looking a little desperate GI Joe," She teased, quickly placing a chaste kiss on his jawline. 

"You like it," He whispered in her ear, gently setting her back down. 

"Debatable," She rolled her eyes, trying to fight back a smile as Jake pressed another kiss against her cheek. 

"Debatable?" He questioned, "The ring on your left hand says otherwise sweetheart." 

Venus looked down at the ring, "I guess." 

"You guess?" Jake hummed, his arms now wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on top of her head. 

The noise and chatter of the Hard Deck slipped away when she looked up, meeting his emerald eyes. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back a lovesick smile. 

It was no use, as it came out anyway. 

"Oh my God they're adorable," Bradley whispered to Natasha, stunned. 

"What the hell is happening?" Natasha whispered back, equally as stunned. 

"I think they're…in love?" Mickey didn't sound too sure of himself, if at all. 

"Of course they are, is it not obvious?" Bob practically scoffed. 

"Careful," Natasha teased, elbowing Bob playfully, "Think she still wants to adopt you. Remember who your dad would be." 

—------

The rest of the night wasn't anything unusual, save for Natasha, Bradley, Mickey, and Bob asking Venus questions while Jake, Javy, and Reuben played a round of pool. 

"So he listens when you tell him to shut up? Like deadass?" Mickey asked. 

She raised an eyebrow, "He listens to me regardless of what I say." 

"I don't believe it," Bradley started, "We can barely get him to listen to us and-" 

"Hey Jake?" Venus called out, remaining in her seat. 

Jake looked up from the angling his pool cue, his eyes lightening up when they met hers, "What's up darling?" 

"Do you think Sammy and Jess deserved to win Love Island?" Bradley couldn't help but scoff at Venus' question, there was no way- 

"Jess did, because she had the best personality of that season and was actually likable. She would have won regardless of who she coupled up with," Jake explained as he briefly looked back to his aim, "Unfortunately she was stuck on Sammy, who did not deserve to win, dude's a fuckboy if I've ever seen one. Is your drink empty?" 

The squad wasn't sure what was more shocking, the fact Jake had been able to make a perfect shot without looking again, or how focused he was on another person's needs. 

Venus, oblivious to this confusion, raised her empty drink, "I am! Can you get me another gin and tonic please?" 

Jake immediately set his pool stick down, ignoring the confused cries of Javy and Reuben as he went to Venus to give her a kiss on the cheek and pick up her glass. 

"What did you just do?" Mickey asked as soon as Jake headed over to the bar. 

Venus shrugged, "I asked him for another drink. I got his last drink, it's only fair." 

"But he was in a middle of a game-" 

"The less you think about it, the less confused you'll be," Javy explained, cutting off Reuben. 

Javy had long since learned that Jake's focus was now all things Venus. He was pretty sure once Venus became pregnant, she would be able to pry Jake away from a Texas football game. 

"How do you get him to listen to you?" Bradley asked, stunned. 

"I love her," Jake scoffed because wasn't it obvious? The only people who didn't seem confused by all this were Javy and Bob. 

Jake now understood why Venus wanted to adopt the bespectacled WSO. 

"So what are we? Chopped liver?" Natasha remarked, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"He just loves y'all a little less," Venus teased, taking her drink from Jake's hands. 

Bradley scoffed, "Dude, I was your bunkmate." 

"Yeah but did you give him blowjobs frequently?" Venus asked, unaffected by the number of aviators who nearly choked on their drinks. Jake could feel the tops of cheek heat up. 

"Well, depended on-" Bradley started, much to the delightful shrieks of Natasha, Javy, and Reuben. 

"Alright, it's time for us to go pick a new song," Jake stated loudly, practically pushing his fiancé to the jukebox. 

"You're finishing that story later!" Venus called out, pointing to Bradley. 

"Only if you convince him not to play Free Rider!" Bradley called back.

Jake dragged away his fiancé, who was now laughing at the antics of his coworkers. 

He couldn't help but smile at the sight. She was beautiful like this; eyes squinting, cheeks round as she smiled, skin glowing,  not having a care in the world. 

Jake would do anything to keep that smile on her face. 

"I get to pick," She said, taking the quarter out of Jake's hand. 

"Why do you get to pick?" Jake teased before placing a kiss against her temple. 

"Because it's my first time here," she started, because wasn't it obvious? "Plus, I want Bradshaw to finish the story."

"You're really about to give Bradshaw what he wants?" Jake put his hand over his heart, "V, that's the most offensive thing you've said to me." 

Venus simply raised an eyebrow as she scoffed, "That's the most offensive thing I've said to you? Compared to all the other stuff? Compared to what I said when we first met?" 

"I thought it was charming," Jake was completely sincere, which Venus didn't know if she should find that cute or concerning. 

"I think you liked being called a Ken doll," she muttered, looking through the list of songs. 

Jake wrapped his arms around her waist, nestling his head on her shoulder, "I liked the woman who called me a Ken doll. So much so, I plan to marry her." 

Her teeth tugged her bottom lip, a tall-tale sign that she was flustered. She didn't blush, but Jake had learned the signs; she would bite her lip, her lashes would flutter. Her hand that wasn't pressing buttons on the jukebox drummed against the machine, looking for something to do. 

"I love you," he whispered. The declaration made her head turn, allowing Jake to steal a kiss. 

"Could have just asked."

"Where's the fun in that?" He pressed his lips against a heated cheek, leaving tiny kisses. 

Her eyes softened upon looking up at Jake, "How did the meeting go?" 

He squeezed the soft flesh of her hip, "Cyclone thinks I have a decent shot at the instructor position. And that I would be a good fit." 

The statement caused her eyes to light up. Jake could see that she was trying to hold herself back, trying not to get her hopes up. 

"So he'll write you a letter of recommendation?" 

He grinned, showing off his pristinely (and blindingly) white teeth, "Him and Mav." 

"We stan a short king." She said it half in jest, purely to see Jake's brows knit together in confusion, the five year age difference showing. 

"Is that a Tik Tok reference?" 

She stifled a giggle as she shook her head, "No. But you're getting there!" 

"You make me feel so old," Jake sighed. He thought he was doing so well, until Venus informed him that Instagram reels were just Tik Tok videos shown two weeks later. 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, "So you think you have a shot at it? The position?" 

Before meeting her, Jake would have scoffed at the suggestion he wouldn't get something. He knows who he is, what he's capable of. 

But he doesn't want to let her down. To disappoint her. They both know what this position would entail; permanence. Not having to be deployed on missions. Not having to be away from her for months at a time. The ability to settle down with her. 

"I think so. Cyclone says I have the track record to prove I know the material and I now have the temperance to show I can teach it well." 

She grinned, "that's the most polite way to say you're no longer a cocky asshole." 

Jake wiggled his eyebrows, eliciting another soft giggle from her. 

"Are you sure you're okay with this? If you get the position?" She asked, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hide her nerves. 

When Jake first brought up the idea of applying to the instructor position, she thought he was joking. Why would someone give up the chance to travel around the world, playing the role of a real life superhero? 

But then he kept bringing it up, announcing he was going to apply. When questioned, Jake said it was simple.

"Getting that job means I get to stay here, with you." 

That's what he said then and it's what he said now. 

"Besides," he added, "the chances of me becoming an ace are low. I'm more than happy to be the only one with two confirmed kills in my generation." 

Venus' eyes narrowed at him and without breaking eye contact, she pressed a button on the Jukebox. 

The notes of Queen's I Want to Break Free filled the Hard Deck, which was followed by the sounds of the squad clapping and thanking Venus. 

"Babe!" Jake nearly whined, putting his hand on his heart, "Really?!" 

"Oh please, you absolutely deserve that." Venus stated before walking towards the bar. 

Jake all but ran after her, grabbing her closest hand. 

"So is now a bad time to tell you that today I parked within the lines?" 

Venus stopped, her eyes slowly turning towards her fiancé, "Both lines?" 

Jake nodded, a proud, albeit cocky smirk adorning his face. 

She took a step forward, her face now inches apart from Jake's. 

"You know," her voice was low, "If you want me to fuck you, you can just ask." 

Jake visibly gulped, the smirk fading as heat rushed to his face, "I mean I, uh, I always want you to-" 

"Did you take a picture of it? Your parking job?" She rested her chin on Jake's head, wrapping her arms around his waist. To others, the gesture was very sweet. 

But Jake could see the desire in her eyes and it was making his knees weak. 

"It's um, how I parked outside of here-" 

"I want to see it. And then I want to go home and fuck you," with that, she was walking towards the door, her fingers hooking themselves around one of Jake's belt loops to ensure he followed. 

Not that he needed encouragement, he was already trailing right behind her. 

[incoherentbabblings]

can i get a long post about why tim/steph worked out when tim/ari, tim/zo and tim/cassie didn't?

To be honest, I really struggled with this one because...well, so here’s the thing. Tim and Steph didn’t work out. That is, if you are saying 2011 is the end of that timeline with those specific iterations of those characters, Tim and Stephanie as a couple failed. Fairly spectacularly really. Like, you can make an argument that people died because of it even. Twice if you count the very end of Robin with all the crap with Ulysses. 

There are things which they got right that the others didn’t, sure. And you can say Convergence was the genuine last time we saw those iterations of those characters, in which case, yes, they got there in the end. And though I would like to think that the two would have reunited in the end, their respective solo runs do not end with them as a couple. Tim doesn’t even really get a mention in Steph’s final issue, and vice versa. Like, they focus on the main thematic points of their series - Tim and his relationship with his fathers, Stephanie and justifying her existence as a vigilante. Don’t get me wrong they matter deeply to each other and they probably do still love each other...they just have more important things on their mind when the other is not in the room.

But even so, between 2004 and 2015 (or 2016 if you count Rebirth instead of Convergence), Tim and Stephanie were not a couple. And one of the reason they failed was the same as for Arianna, Zoanne, Tam etc., didn’t work out. (Cassie is kind of it’s own ballpark). Tim could not keep his girlfriends in the loop. Either as Robin or as Tim Drake. There are other things that made them flatline, and I think at the end of the day what made Tim’s relationship with Steph fail was a little different, but that’s the jist. For the long and short of it:

Ari/Zo: Largely Tim’s fault. Too secretive about Robin.

Tam: Entirely Tim’s fault. Too secretive about both Tim and Red Robin.

Steph: Equally at fault. She trusted Bruce over Tim. Tim didn’t trust her enough period.

Cassie: Equally at fault. Grief is not a good reason for a rebound.

Lynx: Boy was just horny.

So, for Ariana, it was genuinely just because they were too young. They were fourteen when they split up. Ariana said it was because they were getting too serious at too young an age; Tim because he was tired of lying to her about Robin and also the will they/won’t they of Tim and Steph had been rolling on for fifty plus issues and Steph was just a more interesting character than Ari and was the preferred option by the readers so hey. There you go. End of. Tim cheated on her with Steph repeatedly, emotionally and smooching. Ari cheated because she felt ignored and left behind by Tim. He fell asleep in the car as she was telling him. Also Ari was insecure, because she was fourteen and every fourteen year old is insecure, so she did things like dye her hair (because Tim was staring at Steph at funeral not because he was gobsmacked by her beauty or anything it was less of a ‘holy shit she’s so pretty and blond’ and more of a ‘holy shit if she sees me my secret identity is blown’) or try to keep Tim’s attention on her by sleeping together. Which, again, they were fourteen. So in many ways, she was right in her reasoning. There was a lot going on there for people barely starting adolescence, but Tim’s general emotional and physical absence made their problems seem huge and overwhelming, when really, it was just because they were fourteen. Everything is such a big deal when you’re fourteen.

It’s kind of a similar thing with Zo. Now, I don’t know if it was intentional, but it’s sometimes said that your next partner after a big breakup is often the complete opposite of your previous. Zo comes from a nice middle class background with parents who are still together and are very loving. She is very school orientated and in fact tutored Tim. She is also (bless her) very boring. Which is arguably what Tim wanted. He’s still trying to convince himself that there’s a Tim Drake life worth living. However, same issues as Ari arise. Emotional and physical absence. Only this time it’s both the pressure or Robin plus the lovely trauma of dead family and friends. He can’t keep up with Tim Drake anymore. He falls asleep on a rollercoaster and can’t tell Zo why. He cheats on her with Steph (again emotionally and smooching). He breaks up with her over the phone. He kinda gets a bit grabby and manhandle-ly at points, physically lifting and carting her around when they are having an argument and she does not want to listen. Tim is... not good to Zo. At all. 

Ari and Zo fail as relationships because they only know Tim Drake, except who Tim Drake is... is Robin. So they aren’t really in a relationship with Tim as a whole, so inevitably they both crumble.

The reason Cassie didn’t work out was just because they were out of their minds with grief. The cult arc and the cloning was bad. Like it was just a bad storyline. Rebounds like that (which timeline wise was occurring at the same time Tim was taking an interest in Zo) were bound to fail. Cassie deserves better!!!!!!!!!! Stupid goddamn writers.

Tam is tricky. Because she, like Steph, actually gets the privilege of knowing about Tim and Red Robin. She does it ‘backwards’, so her issue is having the realisation that yeah Red Robin is really cool but Tim Drake is a mess. And he still lies to her. There’s a few times where she has moments of realisation of how messed up Tim Drake is by the time she meets him. Her leaving is explicitly because that cool person who saved her from the LoA is also the kind of person to lie and throw people under the bus if it serves the greater good (what Tim thinks is the greater good). And she wants no part in that. It’s emotionally taxing to say the least. Also Tim cheats on her with Lynx. Constantly. And Steph, less constantly. He deserved that slap to be honest.

So we’re left with Steph. Steph also does things backwards, meeting Robin first. However, she gets moments with Tim (kind of) before she knows who Tim actually is. So she gets to go to the cinema with him. She gets her birthing classes with him. She gets the evenings sat at her kitchen table chatting about school. She gets him before the absolute shit show that was 2004/5 for Tim Drake. She is more patient than the other girls, either owing to a general lack of self esteem (hence being more willing to put up with long unexplained absences' than the others) or just by nature. At the same time she’s also more likely to tell Tim to belt up when he’s being mopey or secretive or whatever. Tim to be fair makes it pretty clear the ground rules of the relationship - she can’t be in all aspects of his life. Managing expectations and all that.

This fails. Obviously. Bruce is Bruce and uses Stephanie repeatedly to manipulate Tim. And she trusts Bruce. Repeatedly. For reasons. Bad writing. Low self esteem. Desire for approval making her throw out common sense. 

But, here’s why maybe Tim and Steph would one day work again. It’s a minor thing I know, but Tim falls asleep on his girlfriends a lot, as I have shown above. What is Steph’s reaction when he does so?

Sweet dreams then, honey...

She knows him. So she is able to put the pieces together. Zo and Ari were not given that opportunity, so it could be said they couldn’t ever love Tim because they didn’t know him. Tam didn’t even like who Tim was when they broke up. Cassie never really stopped loving Conner. Steph pretty much consistently remained in love with Tim, and vice versa, even after their relationship imploded. It’s a lot easier to forgive your significant other for things like falling asleep over the phone when you know there’s a high chance they were probably out all last night working a case you know? 

Stephanie had the sheer determination (stupidity) to stay around Tim until brick by brick (hoho) she was allowed behind those walls into all aspects of his life (unlike Zo and Ari), and she loved all aspects of Tim, regardless of how... disagreeable those aspects or actions were (Tam).

Flipping over to Tim’s feelings towards the girls... Steph won over Ari because he enjoyed sharing his night life with someone who understood. She was wittier, sharper, and less insecure than Ari. Steph won over Zo because of the omg you’re not dead factor and by this point she was a presence in both Tim and Robin’s lives so was just around him more often. And again, bless her, Zo was kinda dull, especially in comparison to Steph.

Steph didn’t win over Cassie or Tam as such but Tim did make a move on her whilst dating Tam. The problems that had ruined their relationship at the end of the Robin run had been proven moot after she’d shown how much she’d matured. So it’s possible in Tim’s mind, just for that split second on the roof, he thought things could go back to the way they were. Only for Steph to remind him that one of the reasons she had grown so much was because of his absence. And then he had the lovely reminder that Tam existed via engagement announcement.

Finally Lynx... well. He just wanted to bonk there to be honest. Which is fine. If he wasn’t seeing Tam at the same time. 

#TimDrakeStopCheatingOnYourCivilianGirlfriendsChallenge

[edorazzi]

It’s the post everyone’s been waiting for! 

It’s taken a little while for me to get around to this, but it’s worth it for being able to make a full reaction post. This is really long so I’ll put it under a cut, but check it out for my complete scene-by-scene reaction of Miraculous’ “Felix” episode! (´∀｀)♡

Okay, I’ve been putting this off for days now so it’s time to finally get to it. I’m comfy and undisturbed and have my supplies ready to go.

I know next to nothing about what I’m going into. I’ve seen a little bit here and there because some people haven’t tagged their content properly, but I haven’t watched either of the trailers. I haven’t even looked directly at the images of Felix which have been going around. I’ve tried to stay as blind as possible, so as a result I’m pretty excited but also very anxious. I’ve taken two beta blockers today and I’m considering taking a third.

I usually liveblog episodes on our Ladybug PV Discord server (message me for an invite!) but this time I’m making a proper post out of it. I’ll be typing up my reactions as I go then cleaning everything up a little bit afterwards. I think it’s the first time I’ve done something like this on my blog so here goes!

- “Script: Thomas Astruc” NO. HE REALLY COULDN’T JUST STEP AWAY FROM THIS EPISODE GRACEFULLY, COULD HE. HE HAD TO GET HIS HANDS DIRTY. I’m not going to say “fuck this man” but, you know, identical sentiments. I’m opening my chocolate bar.

- God, Emilie looks more like ET every time I see her. Such an awkward model.

- Oh but wait, Sébastien Thibaudeau was on the script? That does actually give me some hope! Next to Zag himself he’s the only writer on this mess of a show I trust. HE FIXED WAYHEM, CAN HE DO FELIX A SOLID TOO? PLEASE. PLEASE SÉBASTIEN OL BUDDY OL PAL OL FRIENDA MINE

- Does Gabe have anything else to say to his wife other than monologuing his Miraculous plan over and over? They say people in comas can still hear things but Emilie’s probably double unconscious from how boring her husband is.

- DON’T LIKE THAT KNIFE SOUND EFFECT FROM THOSE RINGS. Am I supposed to find it sweet that Gabe’s taking such good care of their wedding bands or is he about to use them for evil? Also where’s Felix.

- ADRIEN SWEETHEART. I maintain that it’s weird to have a statue of your wife/mother/self in your own garden but it kills me that he’s just sitting there in front of it like a lost kitten.

- “Of course, someone will get you right away.” IS THAT FELIX. WAS SHE ON THE PHONE TO FELIX. WHERE’S MY SON, NATHALIE HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON

- That wide-eyed look Adrien turns up towards the window is killing me even more. I’M SO SAD. I see he also hasn’t noticed he’s sitting in the middle of a giant butterfly circle, unless he’s so used to it being Gabe’s logo that he’s just not paying it any mind. When was this all built? Has Gabe always used a butterfly motif even before he got his Miraculous and it was just a great coincidence, or did he commission this whole garden area after Emilie went missing? I guess you could pass it off as eccentricity but in the real world that would be a HUGE red flag that Gabe murdered her. I dunno man.

- DON’T WAVE AT HIM LIKE THAT, NATHALIE. YOU RATTED HIM OUT IN 5 SECONDS IN THAT THEORETICAL FUTURE WHERE YOU DISCOVERED HE WAS CHAT NOIR. YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS BOY. >:V

- “It’s been one year.” HAS IT? Hasn’t Adrien been at school for at least a year now? Didn’t his mom vanish two years prior to that?! Maybe she’s talking about how long Gabe has been fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir but knowing this show’s messy timeline it could be anything. WHERE’S FELIX.

- That’s the song from Chat Blanc! Was that something his mom taught him? OH NO, I’M EVEN SADDER NOW. This is what I mean about Sébastien’s writing, we’d never get this kind of focus on Adrien from Garbage Man Astruc. This kind of character exploration does wonders for ML whenever it’s brought up so I hope this is consistent.

- SHIT, GABRIEL’S OUT OF THE HOUSE. SOMETHING’S WRONG. THOSE EXPENSIVE LEATHER SHOES HAVEN’T TOUCHED ACTUAL GROUND IN YEARS. ADRIEN GET OUT OF THERE.

- I do like that Adrien doesn’t get up when his dad comes to stand right next to him like that. It’s just informal enough. He’s waiting for Gabe to make the first move this time and that’s nice development considering how stiff and cold their relationship was in S1.

- OOOOH GABE THAT’S AN AWKWARD CROUCH. Any lower down and his back is going to go. He’ll be stuck there. I do LOVE that he’s trying though, I don’t even know what he’s going to say to Adrien but this is already SO good.

- “There’s something important I have to talk to you about.” Finally time for The Talk, huh.

- GABE PLEASE. ADRIEN’S WAY TOO CHIRPY TO HAVE ACTUALLY CAUGHT ON TO WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY. HE THINKS YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY YOU LOVE HIM OR SOMETHING ELSE RIDICULOUS

- “I’ve noticed how close you and Nathalie have become!” CLOSE ENOUGH. Still in the ballpark of Adrien thinking his dad has real human feelings! 

- “HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK SUCH A THING??” I GENUINELY LAUGHED OUT LOUD AT HOW ANGRY GABE WAS ABOUT THAT. I’m not sure what to think of the “Nathalie replacing Emilie when Emilie’s technically still alive” plot either but GABE’S DECIDED FOR ME. Also good job yelling in your son’s face when you were JUST having a moment, good luck getting back up off your knees in order to storm away, old man.

- Oh alright, he did get up, but it was with a strange angry bow-legged prance. I think he still had trouble.

- I love the way Adrien just kinda wide-eye-blinks at him, like Gabe’s emotional outburst is going totally over his head. He’s been dealing with akuma FAR too long to be bothered by this.

- Guests, plural? I’m guessing Felix is one of them but is he with someone else? That makes sense given he’s (as far as I’ve gathered) the same age as Adrien so he wouldn’t be running around far from home unchaperoned, but OHHH this is so interesting.

- So they ARE claiming it’s been one year since Emilie vanished! This just doesn’t work as a Season 3 episode, especially with Nathalie and Gabe’s romantic development being as far along as it is. Emilie’s been gone for at LEAST three years by this point! Read your show bible once in a while you horrible garbage man!!! Also ADRIEN SWEETHEART THAT’S A LITTLE PREMATURE. You can say “went away forever” when you’re three years into her disappearance, the anniversary of one year really isn’t long enough to claim she’s never coming back!

- OH NO, IT’S THE GIRLS. I’m already bored. Unless Luka is here I really just do not care what they’re all up to. I haven’t missed Marinette at ALL in the first two-and-a-half minutes and I don’t want to see her now. WHERE’S FELIX.

- I’m sorry, how are Lila, Chloé AND Kagami all on a video call together without any blood being drawn? Also for god’s sake PLEASE leave Adrien alone, you want to ask first if he’d LIKE some company or if he’d prefer a quiet personal day to think about his mom? OF COURSE NOT MARINETTE, YOU WOULDN’T WOULD YOU. 

- Okay, a video message is definitely a better idea than trying to break into his house AGAIN. At least then he can watch it whenever he feels up to it. The first good, safe, noninvasive idea Mari’s had for SEVERAL episodes when it comes to Adrien.

- I’M REALLY TORN WHEN IT COMES TO THE ENGLISH DUB. On one hand I hate how little screentime Nino has when he’s not just being Alya’s fashion accessory, but on the other hand I’m so glad they switched scenes the moment Nino started his video because I CANNOT handle his dub voice. Nino just deserves better in general really.

- HE WAS CRYING. MY BOY WAS CRYING AGAIN. I’M NOT COOL WITH THIS. IT’S NOT ABOVE YOUR PAYGRADE TO GIVE HIM A HUG, NATHALIE.

- ALRIGHT HI ELSA. IS THIS HIS AUNT? THAT’S SPOOKY. 

- Her name is Amelie? So their parents had twins and named them Amelie and Emilie, and they turned out the same right down to the over-the-shoulder Dead Anime Mom hairstyles? That’s lazy parenting down to a tee, can’t mix your twins up if you never have to learn the difference between them in the first place! But that’s INTERESTING that Felix is (I assume, still haven’t seen him yet) from Emilie’s side of the family, I’ve always had the impression he was a petit Gabriel.

- OHHH THAT’S MY BOY! I CAN SEE MY BOY IN THE DOORWAY!!! OH MY GOD GIVE HIM TO ME. GIVE ME FELIX. GIVE ME MY SON.

- ADRIEN IMMEDIATELY JUMPING ON HIM IN A HUG IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. WHILE FELIX’S HAND IS STILL OUTSTRETCHED FOR A HANDSHAKE. I know this episode is going to go downhill because there’s no way it won’t, but this one single moment is EVERYTHING I WANTED. I should just close the tab now and leave it at this, I really should.

- “Do you remember when they used to have so much fun pretending to be each other? Once they had you and Emilie fooled for a whole weekend!” WHERE HAS THIS BEEN FOR MY ENTIRE ORDEAL GETTING THROUGH THIS SERIES. I don’t even care if this Felix is a stone cold bitch, it’s enough to know he and Adrien were besties when they were kids and Adrien still wanted to hug him the second he walked through the door. AMAZING.

- “I WON’T BE FOOLED A SECOND TIME.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, GABE. THEY WERE PROBABLY TODDLERS. ARE YOU JUST SO USED TO GETTING YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU BY CHILDREN THAT YOU’RE SUSPICIOUS OF EVERY SINGLE ONE NOW

- Aww, Felix is American (dubbed, anyway). I was really hoping he’d be British with all the references to London over the last season. He does have a nice voice though! I can tell he shares Adrien’s actor but he’s got the softness I’d have expected from his character. There’s kind of an interesting look about his face though, I wish they’d tweaked it a bit to give him a sharper look but I guess he IS like 14, he can afford to still have a bit of baby-cheeked roundness. I’m going to find the positives in every part of this because I will NOT give Garbage Man Astruc the satisfaction of being disappointed like I know he wants me to be. It’s been a fucking war from the moment I saw his name in the writing credits and my best weapon is being pleased about everything in this episode.

- Okay, he looks a little better in the following closeup where his eyes are slightly narrowed. I think it’s the slightly-below-the-chin angle which doesn’t really work for his character model with his soft cheeks and high collar. FELIX IS A BABY.

- WHY WILL NOBODY SHAKE HIS HAND. Adrien hugged him instead and Gabe is ignoring him completely, Felix is clearly so perplexed and I love it. He’s fourteen! He’s fourteen and doing his best with social graces but NOBODY WILL HELP HIM.

- “Felix, you know your uncle’s never been the physical sort!” HE KICKED HIS OWN SON RIGHT ACROSS PARIS IN THE LAST EPISODE BUT SURE, IF YOU SAY SO.

- “Oh, how sweet! You’re still wearing your wedding band!” YEAH? IT’S BEEN LIKE A YEAR?? Again this would make more sense if it had been around three years like we KNOW Emilie’s been gone for, but picking someone out for still wearing their ring after 12 months?! And why isn’t Amelie more emotional about this anyway, isn’t it her sister who’s missing? I wouldn’t be poking fun at MY sister’s husband for keeping his ring if SHE went missing. No wonder Felix seems like he turned out weird.

- I CAN’T MAKE OUT THE NAME OF HER BRANCH OF THE FAMILY AND IT’S KILLING ME. SOMEONE LET ME KNOW WHAT THAT WAS. Graham de Vanily? I can’t place the words. I mean I’m going to keep calling Felix “Agreste” no matter what but I’d like to know what canon is trying to get at.

- “It’s been a long journey from London” I KNEW IT, I FFFFFFFFFUCKING KNEW IT. SO THEY ARE BRITISH?! BUT THEY HAVE AMERICAN ACCENTS?! I mean I guess they’re French first and foremost, but what the fuck is with the American accents if you’re making a POINT about them being from London?! I can’t wait for the French audio to be released, I really want to know what Felix sounds like there. Regardless AAAH MY SON IS FROM MY CITY, I’M SO PLEASED.

- “TakeFelixtoyourbedroom.” EASY GABE THEY JUST MET, ALSO THEY’RE COUSINS

- Poor Felix looks so depressed being saddled with Adrien. Sweetie it’s okay, think positive! You could be stuck with Marinette and THAT would be a true nightmare.

- Now why does Felix keep glancing at Gabe? Is there something going on there? Is he suspicious about what happened to his aunt? I can’t imagine he knows anything about the Miraculous so what’s the deal here?

- UuuuuUUUUGH we’re back with the rest of the gang. I’M NOT INTERESTED, SHOW ME MORE FELIX.

- “Help me Tikki! What would you tell a Kwami friend who’s lost their mom?!” You’re talking to a 5000-year-old demigoddess, Mari, I don’t think she’s gonna relate.

- MARI YOU CAN’T CONFESS TO ADRIEN. NOT AFTER CHAT BLANC. GABE WILL LOSE ALL HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TO WRECK THE LOVE SQUARE AND ALSO THE MOON’S GOING TO EXPLODE. WHY ISN’T BUNNIX HERE TO SLAP THE TABLET OUT OF YOUR HANDS

- Should Tikki really be encouraging this?! I have no idea where in the timeline this is supposed to be. Maybe this is at a stage where she doesn’t know Adrien is Plagg’s chosen so there’s no reason to steer Marinette away from bonding with him. Or maybe every episode just plays by its own rules and there’s really no such thing as continuity in this series. I want to see Felix again.

- YANKING AT AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE ON THE OUTER EDGE OF A BOAT ISN’T GOING TO END WELL. DON’T. I do love how :D Alya is about it though, if nothing else I love what a supportive friend she is.

- Oh, the tablet didn’t go into the water! I’m genuinely surprised by that. Though I imagine Felix is going to fuck things up in some way so he’ll probably be the one to destroy the video somehow. We all know the relationship development isn’t allowed to move forward so SOMETHING’S going to happen to it.

- Thank god we’re back to the mansion. I’m surprised and pleased that (for now at least) we’re only getting the girls in small doses and the plot is mainly focused around the Agrestes. Gorizilla is my favourite episode to date and it did a similar thing with allowing Marinette to be a side character for once along an Adrien-centric plotline, so hopefully this episode will be similar. I’m liking its odds so far but who knows what Horrible Garbage Man Astruc has up his sleeve.

- “I’m really sorry I didn’t come to your dad’s funeral.” I’M SORRY WHAT? PARDON ME? THAT’S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM I DIDN’T EXPECT. As a side note I love Felix being killer at basketball for some reason, he doesn’t look like the athletic type at ALL but he still made that net over his shoulder without even LOOKING. Goddamn. Can everyone please appreciate how cool my son is!!!

- “My father thought it would be too hard on me, considering everything that’s happened this year.” So Felix lost his dad VERY RECENTLY. OUCH. DON’T LIKE THAT. Or I DO like that because it’s already giving his character some extra depth when we’re still only just getting to know him, but on an emotional level I don’t like that. 

- “He’s very... protective of me.” CHAT BLANC REALLY WAS A HOT MESS OF AN EPISODE WASN’T IT. 

- Now Felix is giving Adrien a hug?! I didn’t see that one coming. My canon Felix would mean it but I don’t quite trust this new Felix yet, he’s probably up to something.

- WHAT A JARRING PIANO TRANSITION. Also why?! What does he have to gain from swiping Adrien’s phone? He’s probably got a terrible roaming plan on his own mobile, that’s always my problem when I go to France. If you truly loved your cousin you’d let him browse Reddit on your phone, Adrien. This is worse than not coming to his dad’s funeral.

- PLAGG KNOWS SOMETHING’S UP. He ought to, in another life he and Felix are STILL dealing with each other.

- Okay I take back what I said about Felix’s voice. Bryce Whatshisface isn’t doing a very good job separating the tones. I can buy that Adrien and Felix sound very similar but their delivery should be completely different! I really do want to watch this in French, I get the feeling it’ll sound much better.

- AH YES, HERE WE GO. I’m getting the feeling this is Garbage Man’s part of the episode. Squished cheese aside, I do like the implication Felix does (or did) card magic and karate. I’m thinking of that Mickey Mouse episode where he vanishes Donald’s car keys with a hand trick except it’s Felix vanishing Marinette’s phone when she’s about to text Adrien or something. I’ve got to draw that.

- “Mind if I take a shower?” WHY, FELIX. I mean I’d probably want to shower too after the London-Paris commute (and I’m sure he’s only going in there to wreak havoc, put food colouring in Adrien’s shampoo bottles or something) but what a weird time to ask!

- I mean Plagg has a point about difficult home situations not justifying bad behaviour (and I feel like that’s not what’s going on, with how he was glaring at Gabe I think he’s behaving like this for some other reason), but Felix’s dad LITERALLY DIED. Like they had a funeral and everything. Emilie is just “missing”. They’re SIMILAR but that’s still a false equivalence because Adrien’s got hope to hold on to and Felix doesn’t.

- So we’re not going to talk about how Felix got into Adrien’s passcode-protected phone? I guess he could have done the fogging-up-the-screen trick from Oblivio. Standing around in a steamy bathroom in three layers of clothing is a great way to sweat yourself out and ruin your hair though, way to get even more gross than a five-hour commute between countries.

- “Of course that idiot has a crush on a superhero!” EASY THERE, MR HOWLING-ON-A-ROOFTOP-BECAUSE-HE-SAW-THE-GIRL-HE-LIKED. WE’VE ALL SEEN THE PV.

- I’ve just noticed Felix has a ring too! I don’t know how I missed that before this scene! That���s NICE. He’s still not allowed to have it on his middle finger (LET HIM SWEAR) but that’s a nod back to Chat Noir which I really appreciate!

- ROSE HAS BEEN ON THE HELIUM. SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT THERE.

- FELIX KNOWS CHLOÉ! THAT’S NICE, THAT’S GOOD. I LIKE THAT. That’s also a really nice little video from her, I love the few small moments we’ve had that affirm she and Adrien really ARE friends, whether she wants to date him or not. 

- OOOH HE DELETED THE VIDEOS. I’m curious about him borrowing Adrien’s clothes too, are they going to dress the same? You’d think Adrien wouldn’t give someone an exact copy of the outfit he’s currently wearing but I genuinely don’t know if he owns anything different. I hope they don’t just use two Adrien models for the rest of the episode, please let me see Felix properly :/

- WHY. HONESTLY, WHY. CAN I PLEASE GET AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY FELIX IS DOING THIS.

- OOOH MARI YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE THIS. I can imagine Felix is going to say something nasty and that’ll set the girls off and bring about the akuma of the week. I’m mildly entertained but I’m still not engaged with this idea without any proper explanation. We’d better get something by the end of the episode which justifies what’s made Felix do this, because “he’s just evil lol” would be a reeeeally low move from Garbage Man Astruc. 

- MARI SWEETIE. YOU’VE GOTTA LEARN TO CHECK A ROOM IS EMPTY BEFORE YOU RUN INSIDE AND START FREAKING OUT VERY LOUDLY. LUKA’S HEARD ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING. 

- Luka is such a nice character. Why does he get to be so high quality when Felix has been turned into a cheese-smashing phone-stealing gremlin? I mean I KNOW why, but I’d like to think the showwriters are better than this. They’re not, but I’d like to think they are.

- WHAT A VIDEO MESSAGE. I love how Luka’s just sitting there grimacing while Mari speeds off into battle, he doesn’t know what she’s about to do but he knows better than to try stopping her.

- Back with Gabe and Nathalie. Is this what was being foreshadowed when Gabe claimed he wouldn’t be fooled by the boys’ identity switch twice? Is he GOING to be fooled again or will he be the one person who can tell immediately that this isn’t his son? 

- “FELIX.” WOW, HE REALLY WASN’T FOOLED TWICE. RESPECT. He may have trouble getting up off the ground if he sits down too low but he can at least identify his child in a difficult situation like this, props to Gabe this week.

- “All this disappointment might just help us get rid of our unwanted guests!” SHUT YOUR MOUTH, FELIX IS A DELIGHT. The only unwanted guest here is Astruc on the writing team.

- “Felix... I told you that you couldn’t fool me twice.” Way to blow your identity in five seconds Gabe. I guess he hasn’t sent out the akuma yet so this might just be a personal monologue, but he starts addressing his victims directly so often at this stage that I’m really not sure what they can or can’t hear. SHIT’S RISKY.

- OH OKAY, SO HE’S SENDING THIS TRIPLE AKUMA AFTER FELIX? AND/OR ADRIEN, DEPENDING ON HOW HARD IT IS TO TELL THEM APART? I guess that’s what he means by getting rid of their guests, if the house is attacked by a monster (or monsters?) they aren’t going to want to stick around, but I REALLY HOPE YOU’RE TAKING ADRIEN’S WELLBEING INTO ACCOUNT HERE GABE OL BUDDY :/

- “TIKKI, SPOTS ON! MNUURGH” ME TOO MARINETTE. I’M REALLY ONLY 12 MINUTES INTO THIS.

- I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really interested in the girls. I was hoping for a real triple akuma (like Oblivio was apparently Alya and Nino together) but they’re all just villains we’ve seen before. There’s stuff I could comment on here but I just want to see more of Felix, that’s what I’m here for.

- “Nathalie, get Adrien to a safe place far from his cousin!” YOU’RE REALLY JUST GONNA SACRIFICE FELIX LIKE THIS. I guess that makes sense, I WAS complaining during Chat Blanc that Adrien is Gabriel’s weak point, so all things considered I’m not surprised that he’ll protect Adrien but just flat-out wants Felix dead. Fair enough.

- WOW. I THOUGHT ADRIEN WAS GOING TO BE HEROIC AND DEFEND FELIX BUT HE WANTS HIM DEAD TOO. Or was that a double bluff to make the akuma think he MUST be Felix so he can lead them away and keep his cousin safe? He’s just run off with a wild cackle so I’m thinking it’s the latter. HE’S A GOOD BOY AND A TRUE HERO.

- I also find it kind of funny how Nathalie will jump in harm’s way to defend him when there have been INNUMERABLE other episodes of Gabe just setting an akuma directly on Adrien for the hell of it. Maybe because there isn’t really any ‘harm’ here to start with; the three girls’ powers are probably the least violent of all the akuma we’ve seen so far.

- AM I REALLY ABOUT TO SEE FELIX DRESSED AS ADRIEN DOING KARATE. I HOPE HE’S GOOD AT IT.

- OH MY GOD HE IS GOOD AT IT. That’s cool! I was expecting him to totally flop considering how badly his imposter trick went down a few minutes ago, but it’s nice to see he’s as capable at fighting as he is at basketball. When do I get to see his magic card tricks?

- YEAH I FEEL THE SAME PLAGG. WHAT’S EVEN HAPPENING. Not that I think Adrien shouldn’t save Felix, I just want to know WHY Felix felt like he had to do this in the first place! I feel like “can I PLEASE get a waffle” except instead of watching the employees fight I’m watching this episode careening away with no pauses to explain what’s going on.

- FELIX C’MON. STOP CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE. I can tell Garbage Man Astruc still has the reins here because causing even MORE trouble even AFTER Adrien saved his ass is a completely illogical course of action. PUT SÉBASTIEN BACK IN THE WRITERS CHAIR.

- “WHICH PART OF THE WORD ‘NO’ DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” Oh perfect, great, can’t let this episode end without accusing Felix of not respecting consent! That’s a hot button issue and if Garbage Man Astruc can get him on that bandwagon then fans HAVE to hate this character! Great move! Fucking pillock!

- WOW CHAT THAT’S MEAN. I guess accusing Felix of having no friends is justified in the context of the episode but yikes :(

- Was that a flash of humiliation from Felix there? God will one of the writers PLEASE save this character, PLEASE don’t let this episode end without someone getting him out of the Garbage Man’s big meaty claws.

- Excuse me WHAT? Felix is talking directly to Papillon?! So he knows about all the Miraculous stuff?! Oh NO, is this about getting his dad back? I don’t know whether the One Wish is common knowledge (I don’t think it is?) but maybe Felix put the pieces together on his own back home, so all his behaviour here has been trying to incite an akuma that he can take advantage of to appeal to Papillon?! Or he could just be a bitch all on his own, which is probably what the Garbage Man would prefer, but this makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.

- BRO HE NEARLY DIED. BRO. BROOO.

- “I hope you’ve learned your lesson!” YOU’RE NOT EVEN GONNA ASK ABOUT THE PAPILLON THING? YOU CAN’T JUST TREAT THIS AS A REGULAR DISTURBANCE, FELIX KNOWS SHIT ABOUT THE MIRACULOUS YOU GUYS--

- FELIX’S MOM IS REALLY GOING TO BLAME HIS DEAD DAD FOR THIS? HARD YIKES. NO WONDER FELIX IS WEIRD.

- I’m expecting this isn’t over, because Felix still clearly wants something specific that he didn’t get, but I’ll take this cute hug for what it is. He didn’t have an evil expression behind Adrien’s back this time either and the music is all soft and nice, plus he FINALLY got a handshake from Gabe, but I absolutely do NOT imagine this episode will end without getting an extra shot in at the PV fans somehow. We’re not getting off this easy.

- Why doesn’t Gabriel want Adrien to go after Felix? Is he scared he’ll try to run off, or ask them to stay longer when he really wants to get rid of them?

- AHAHA FELIX STOLE GABE’S RING. WHAT A BRAT. Was that the “jewelry” he mentioned wanting in return for helping Papillon? I figured it was a Miraculous thing but maybe not.

- OHHH, look how much Felix loves his mom! This is such a sweet scene. I particularly like the idea that Amelie was trying to get the rings back to give one to Felix because the way she was speaking to Gabe made it sound like she wanted them Just Because. But you can’t mention some wild story connected to the rings and then not explain it! I want to know what that is, I want to know why Felix is so fascinated with it!!!

- ALSO, FELIX GETTING A BIG KISS RIGHT ON THE FOREHEAD. EXCELLENT. I’ll fucking BET this is another scene Sébastien sneaked in because it’s such an emotional quality shift from the whole clone mess. Like what the fuck even WAS that.

- Yep, Felix is still evil! WHY THOUGH. WHAT’S GOING ON. CAN I PLEASE GET A WAFFLE

- I was expecting a worse ending, but “Felix can’t ever come back to Paris because Gabriel will kill him with his bare hands if he does” is decent enough. If there’s no further confirmation (and NO, anything Garbage Man Astruc tweets later on does NOT fucking count so don’t try me) I’m going to take it that he WAS actually sorry for what he did to Adrien. That’s better than nothing.

.

.

WELL THAT WAS AN EPISODE. That actually wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be - it could have been a lot better but it could have been a lot worse too. The beginning and end were nice enough even if the middle part was Garbage Man Astruc’s usual atrocious mess of self-service, though I do particularly despise the hamfisted consent issue shoved in there just to generate extra reasons to hate the character. WE GET IT, YOU DON’T LIKE FELIX. OFF YOU FUCK. 

I’ve slept on this next paragraph to give myself time to formulate some concrete thoughts about the plot, so... Well, it was a mess, that’s for sure. They spent way too much time establishing how oH sO eViL Felix was and not nearly enough time actually explaining his character. 

Why is he acting out like this? What has he got against Adrien in particular? Is he really sore about Adrien not supporting him at his dad’s funeral or is that just what Adrien thinks is his problem? What was his relationship with his dad before he died? Was his troublemaking all about trying to provoke an akuma and ask Papillon to help him get his family rings back (which he was clearly trying to steal from the moment he walked through the door, only Gabe wouldn’t shake his hand the first time), or was that just a side effect of causing shit for no reason? Did he mean his apology to Adrien at the end? WHAT was the deal with the rings and the story attached to them? There’s a whole interesting story buried in here which just got completely overlooked by the emphasis on how terrible he was and that’s really disappointing. 

I did like his damaged-but-still-good relationship with Adrien though, there’s still hope there and maybe Felix (if he ever shows up again, which I only hope he does if it’s NOT another excuse for Garbage Man Astruc to shit on the PV fandom again, for the love of FUCK don’t give this guy multiple opportunities) will start coming around and making the effort to be a better cousin since Adrien’s given him a second chance. I don’t know. What I liked just as much was Marinette actually barely being in this episode at all, for the first time since Gorizilla she’s ALLOWED to be the supporting character again and that’s GREAT.

I don’t really know what else to say. I’m exhausted. Adrien’s a darling and I think I prefer my Twin AU, though canon Felix being a delightful little gremlin who causes problems-on-purpose is something I can work with in the future too. 

Thanks for coming on this... interesting journey with me! I posted a set of tweets last night which I’ll leave here to finish up:

[dowoonie-namjoonie]

Excuse Me, Sir

Paring: Teacher!Jin x Student!Reader

A/N: I do not own the gifs I use. I love BTS for their talent, this was just for fun. Plus, I’ve always wanted to write a fanfic about Jin being a teacher. If it sucks, well Idk don’t read it lol!

Warnings: Student-teacher potential relationship, minor language, and suggestive and triggering content. 

Sometimes you had to admit, you have anger issues. Today, was one of those days where you exploded over the tiniest of things, but god, Mr. Kim was by far the most rage-inducing teacher you've ever had. Under those broad shoulders and charming looks, laid an unempathetic, shit bag, who gave you an F on your history essay. Oh, and not just a plain, old history essay. Oh no, a fucking history final essay that could make or break your grade. Currently, it was breaking your grade. 

The worst part of this all is everyone in your school thinks Mr. Kim is the greatest teacher in the world. Complaining, whining, or even throwing a dirty glance in his direction would instantly give a sign to his Fanclub, filled with tween girls, that you needed to be taught a lesson. There was only one way you could get to that unholy man, by staying after class. 

Words can't describe how awkward and suffocating it is to talk to a teacher, but staying after to talk to them is a whole different ballpark. But, if this is the only way, then this is the only way. 

Before you knew it, the last bell of the day rang. People flooded the hallways to get out of school, desperate to get home to sleep. You, on the other hand, stood out from the crowd, completely walking the other direction from the exit. Stomping, your feet heavily, each stride filled with frustration. The pit of anger in your stomach churned as you reached Mr. Kim's door, through the window you could see the raven-haired man grading some papers with absolute intensity. 

Nevertheless, you pushed down the sensation in your stomach, pressing further into the room. 

"Mr. Kim," you softly knocked on the door.

Grasping his attention, he turned to you, instantly recognizing you with a pleasant smile bound to his face. Almost made you disgusted at how a sweet-looking man could ruin your grade with a snap of a finger. 

Calm down Y/N, calm down, you lulled to yourself, heading to his desk flooded with student papers. 

"What can I do for you Miss L/N," he raised a brow at you, leaning over the desk with his arms folded. 

"Well," you started, finding your way to a desk right in the back of you. Taking a seat on the top of it to get yourself more comfortable. Trying to sound as cutesy as possible to win this man over, you continued. "I was put off by my grade." 

"Put off," he bit his cheek, leaning back into his chair. "How so?" 

"On my essay, you gave me an F. That was a mistake, right?" 

Mr. Kim chuckled aloud, sinking further into his chair with his arms supporting behind his head. He seemed more amused by this situation than worried about it, which only fueled the fire in you. 

"No, it wasn't. Your essay was...long...you included details you rather not need."

Struggling not to say anything, you bit the inside of your cheek preventing a cuss to flow out. What made you tick, was the condescending look on his face, he knew he was right and it pissed you off. Still, you weren't one to give up. "Long is what you wanted, you wanted a three paged essay, so I gave you a three paged essay." 

Mr. Kim sighed aloud at your counterargument, typically students weren't able to fight with teachers the way you did. No doubt, you seemed notorious for pulling this kind of stunt. Mr. Kim knew you all too well. 

"Even then, on top of it being long, it was just boring too," he mocked. 

That's what really set you off, the boring comment, if he hadn't said that...well, he wouldn't be in for a world of trouble right now. "Pull it up," you spoke quickly, a scary expression written all over your face. Swiftly, you walked behind his desk, him springing into action as you did so. 

"Pull up," he muttered out, repeating after you. 

"Yes, pull it up, pull out the essay. Tell me spefically what I did wrong?"

Truth betold, Mr. Kim knew he pissed you off, sometimes he would do it because he just enjoyed your reaction. Although, he'd never admit this outloud, he thought you seemed rather cute when you were flustered. 

Tapping and clicking at his laptop, Mr, Kim pulled up your essay filled with red marks. Pulling up a chair next to him, he began reading out what you got wrong. Giving you advice on how you could do it better, every once and awhile you'd argue with him that his correction was wrong. Even gaining some minor points back when you were right. 

At the end of the session you ended up with a C, rather than an F. C's weren't good enough for you, especially now that your grade is a B and not an A. A's are what you needed to keep honor roll. 

"Okay Y/N, are we done now," he got up, placing his laptop in his bag, slinging it on his shoulder. 

This is how he was telling you to leave, but you just couldn't. You needed that A, you were willing to do anything for that A. B's weren't an option for your, strict ass family. "Mr. Kim, before we go," you swallowed a lump in your throat. "Is there any extra credit I can do...or do for you?" 

Being seductive wasn't exactly easy for you, but as you leaned back in the wooden chair, pulling down your top to show more clevage, Mr. Kim found you hot. Speaking of Mr. Kim, who stood frozen at the door, he most obviosuly became affected by your stance. Eyes glazing over your body carefully to take every curve inn consideration, thinking about how allusive you seemed. 

"Y/N," he spoke sternly, placing down his leather bag. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting..." you popped off the chair, bubbly making your way over to him. Mr. Kim never seemed so intimidating as he stood over you with the advanged of being taller. Carefully, though, you took his pink, stripped tie into his hand slowly loosening it up. Your eyes, scanned his broad chest, climbing up his body to met his eyes. His eyes filled with lust, as so were yours. Maybe you never noticed how good looking Mr. Kim was before because you were never looking properly. Now your just a few inches apart, you get to look at his plump lips with a pink tint suiting his honey skin. Or his perfectly sculped tall nose, practically a god worthy face. All the hate you had once before disappeared forming into a desire you never knew you felt before. You wanted Mr. Kim, just as much as he wanted you.

"I'm suggesting something a bit naughty, Mr. Kim."

"Miss L/N," he cooed, pulling your hands away from his tie, holding your smaller hands in his. "Why don't we talk about this tomorrow, hm?" 

"Ah...ah," you choked out, not knowing what to say when he shut you down. 

However, he didn't seem angry with you, instead he felt bad for you. Trying to comfort your shocked expression, as he rubbed your hands  soothingly. Mr. Kim felt uncomfortable by your advances, based on the fact you were doing this for another reason besides liking him. There was something in your eyes, fear or desperation for that grade. 

"Mr. Kim," you grabbed his attention. "Please, please don't give me a C." 

This was different side of you, Seokjin was shocked when a tear ran down your face. Usually, you were filled with fire, ready to take down everyone and everything that stood in your way. Even if it met punching a teen girl or two. But, whatever made you fear a B, must've been bad enough to make you beg a teacher-Almost sleeping with him. "I won't, I won't...," he spoke, softly, pulling you into a hug placing his head on top of yours. For awhile, you both stood there, you crying into his chest. God, this was so embarrassing for you, but you couldn't help it. Mr. Kim didn't get it when you said you needed an A, if you came home, lord knows what your parents would do to you. 

Letting you go slowly, Mr. Kim faced you, bring a hand up to your cheek and wiping a the tears away. "Met me tomorrow? Okay? We'll talk about it then, just give me some time Y/N." 

"I-I," you began, but he shut you down quickly. He didn't want you to get worked up again, instead he wanted you to get home safely without worrying about your grade. 

"Go Y/N, let's talk tomorrow." 

[jeanjauthor]

Hello I think thinking more high born ladies, in typically England or even France16th century. Like how could I show the importance with embroidery, needlework, making cheese, and other lady specific things in those times

Well, think of it this way: Certain regions were doing exceptional work in different things. English wool was considered superior, Flemish cloth was considered superior, French lace (in certain regions) was considered superior, England again had an entire guild dedicated to making thread-of-gold that no one else could match, Italian cheese (parmesan) was widely traded because it was preserved so well, Sweden / Finland sold a lot of tall straight trees for ship masts, and so on.

Do a little bit of research, and then you could have your embroidering noblewomen being praised for "being every bit as good as (region)" ...though if it's in an historical setting the noblewomen wouldn't necessarily be expected to make a living at such embroidery, because as people head toward the later centuries. If it's an English woman and she's making lace, "That's even better than what I've seen the merchants bring from the lacemakers of Alsace! With your skills, we could make a gift of such fine lace to the King & Queen! That would surely raise our standing in the royal court..."

As for cheesemaking, the dairy was THE woman's domain, and men were NOT allowed into it. Women might not have known about microbes and germs, but they DID know that cleanliness was an absolute must for the dairy room. There's a wonderful series online, Tudor Monastic Farm, and I'll share a link to where the scenes with the dairy first begins, located here: https://youtu.be/fhZv2iYuWVE?t=1068

The series has a couple of archaeologists (the gents) and a domestic skills researcher (Ruth Goodman) doing historical re-enactment based upon the archaeology, writings, and theories about how things actually happened back then--and the Tudor era is right in your ballpark in the 16th century (1500s CE). You might want to watch the whole series for inspiration.

Even if it is about what farmers went through in a year, not nobles, a lot of what happened on a farm was still very important to the nobility, because that was a part of their livelihoods, too. Nobles didn't always just sit around in the cities looking pretty. (In fact, cities were often a bit...anti-noble...especially prior to the era of the Black plague, because of that whole freed men not land serfs status thing.) The sitting in cities looking pretty thing was much more later period. (1700s, 1800s.)

A competent noblewoman was expected to be able to oversee, hire, and possibly even train various servants on the estate / in the manor house / castle, as well as visit the various tenanted farms (like the Tudor Monastery Farm, taking the place of the monastery's oversight). While the lord of the castle might do more of the visiting, if he was away handling matters of politics, warfare, etc, perhaps taking his adult sons, and he might have a seneschal to oversee properties he didn't live upon, his lady wife was often expected to take up the burdens of the nobility's leadership (such as it was) and see to things herself--in an overseer's capacity, if not necessarily putting her own shoulder to the wheel of the stuck wagon.

If you have a character that tries to disparage women by saying, "What did you do while I was off saving our lands from invasion, literally risking life and limb in battle?" you could have your women reply, "Making sure you still had a home to come back to, and food on your table, and clothes on your back! Money in your coffers, the taxes paid on time and in full so the king didn't take our lands from us in payment instead! Everything you see here that is still here while you were gone, is still here because I made sure it would be! You would have nothing without me, and you know it! Have the grace to admit it, and stop yelling at me."

On the other hand, if the husband/father/brother isn't a douchebag*, then he/they can notice "However did you convince Farmer Attewell to fix that hedgerow? I nagged him for weeks before leaving for the city!"

"It turns out it's very hard to do a full day's labor far from the house if your wife is too ill to mind the children, so I sent the Widow Thrushberry off to the Attewell's farm to tend the house and children, along with Maisy, the hen girl to help as well, since the hens weren't laying until this last week. And since the blacksmith wasn't too busy either, I paid his two strapping sons to make a pair of bill hooks for pleaching, and sent them out to help Attewell with the hedge laying, so they'd know how to wield what they make, and thus give it some thought as to how to make them better, the next time."

"You paid the blacksmiths sons? With what money? Not the seed money for ensuring all the farmers can do their plantings?"

"Not the seed money, no. Since you didn't take me to the city, I didn't need to buy embroidered trim from Mistress Speckleton to cover the worn spots to make my gown look newer...though if you made any profit off your time in the city, I should very much like that trim for a gift some day soon."

"I shall see to it tomorrow. You have done well, my wife--far better than I. The Attewell's bull will no longer be a risk for wandering the roads--I'll see to it the linen weavers make you some fine linen for new clothes as well. I was never so blessed as the day we wed, though I could not know my great fortune for years to come--I should have you solve all the problems around here, my lady wife! You'll have me right-handed to the king some day!"

"You deal better with the merchants than I do, so I'll be pleased, my lord husband, if you'll continue to do so--else we'd be right-hand to the king, but absolute paupers for it."

...As you can see, there are ways to show the value of women's work, either through combatting disrespect or showing (ideally but not necessarily mutual) respect.

If it's an actual historical setting, there's only so much a writer can do to nudge things towards better equity and better equality between the genders, before it starts straining the readers' credulity too much. But if it's a created world, there's quite a lot more flexibility. In a created world, there's more room to include in your culture acceptance of women who are big and strong, women who can fight, women who can do "traditionally male" tasks...and you can also show more gender-equity by having men doing "traditionally female" tasks, too.

For example, if you have a noblewoman trying to teach her daughter how to run the manor's dairy, but the daughter is mad for combat and insists upon training with sword and bow, etc, that's one way...but you can also have a son who is absolutely interested in the complex methods of making cheese, brewing beer, and who absolutely loves doing embroidery. And if both children are in the same family, the parents can have one of those brief eye-contact moments, roll their eyes, sigh, shrug...and the father takes the daughter under his wing, the mother takes the son under hers, and they go on with that arrangement instead of "the more traditional one."

[cobraonthecob]

A Character With Chronic Running Away Issues Paired with a Character With Abandonment Issues????

For those who have seen my reblogs with RWBY and A:TLA, you all know that I adore Bumbleby but despise Kataa/ng, even though both pairings have one character with chronic running away issues and the other has abandonment issues.

GET READY FOR THE META NO ONE ASKED FOR

So why do I support one and not the other? (warning: I am not friendly to Kat@ang here)

Well...it’s because they’re in way different ballparks. Kataan/g happens when both are still 12/13 and 14/15, while Blake and Yang are about 19 by Volume 7. So for starters, there’s a massive maturity gap that almost shoots this comparison in the face right here and now. But wait! There’s more to this!

which is why i don’t like Ka/tara and A@ng getting together at such a young age, but then again, I don’t like the pairing at all, but we can talk about that another time

Now that we’ve addressed the maturity gap, let’s get into it!

For starters, Blake and Yang’s relationship started as good friends and then progressed into love interests and possibly girlfriends by the time of S7 (they haven’t quite jumped out with “we’re dating” but I personally think they’re taking it slow lol, ask me for my thoughts about it), so they kind of have the advantage of time on their side while Kata/ra and A@ng have only three seasons of development.

That being said, Kata@ng had 3 seasons, which is more than enough time to get both sides of their relationship but nooooo. We only see Aa/ng’s side of the romance, and Kat@ra for the most part acts like a mom, is uninterested, or straight up tries to let him down gently, and after the disastrous Ember Island Players kiss, which happens to be their last one-on-one interaction before the epilogue I want to pretend doesn’t exist, Katara and Aang’s friendship plumments badly. Heck, their last interaction ever ends badly, with the entire Gaang arguing with A@ng about how to end the war! 

what I’m saying is that Kat@ra and Aa/ng had a strained friendship before they did that cursed kiss while Blake and Yang’s friendship continued to build and then blossom into romance

“But Nightfalcon, what about the abandonment issues?!”

I’m getting there, be patient!

Now for the actual getting together - how do we make these two characters fit together?

By making both characters recognize their faults.

Blake herself knows she’s in the wrong, she addresses her chronic running away issues, starting in Volume 2, in Mountain Glenn, where she says it herself: “But I am! I do it all the time! When you learned I was a Faunus, I didn't know what to do, so I ran! When I realized my oldest partner had become a monster, I ran! Even my Semblance! I was born with the ability to leave behind a shadow of myself; an empty copy that takes the hit while I run away!” (taken directly from the RWBY Wiki). She feels guilt for running away in Volume 3 after the Fall of Beacon, but she internalizes this anger, which pops out at bad times, and she takes her guilt, buries it in anger, and isolates herself. After Sun is injured, Blake believes she’s the one at fault, and when she explodes at him and tells him why she isolates herself, Sun tells her that she’s in the wrong for isolating herself, but then tells her that he would always be there to protect her and be there for her, and that Yang would too (OK I’ve got a whole meta about Sun and Yang and Blake and why they’re amazing relationships but that’s a whole ‘nother meta).

By having Chronic Running Away (CRA bc that’s getting to be a mouthful) character openly address their faults (and others calling them out on it), you’re one step closer to making a ship sail much more smoothly.

Then there’s Yang.

In Alone Together, Yang talks to Weiss that she’s not upset solely at Blake, she’s upset that Blake didn’t feel safe enough to trust them to stay by them, and that they (whether if Yang was referring to just herself and Blake or herself, Ruby, and Blake [as Weiss was taken to Atlas]) could’ve been there for each other. She gets to address her anger and explain why she feels that way, and Weiss lends a listening ear and some advice for her. 

Eventually, the two are brought back into the same space, and spend the next few volumes patching up their relationship, or at least, the best they can, up until the fight with Adam, which puts everything on the table, and in the aftermath, Blake promises Yang she wouldn’t leave her and Yang understands and assures her that she already trusts/knows that Blake wouldn’t leave her.

TL;DR: Blake recognizes that her CRA issues are bad, and tries to make amends, Yang gets to vent her issues with Blake’s CRA issues and gets emotional support from Weiss and Ruby. Blake promises not to run, and Yang tells her that she’s not worried about Blake running away because she knows that Blake knows that team RWBY will always be there for her and that there’s a support system in place for Blake that she probably won’t feel the need to run. (seriously if you haven’t watched this show already, please do. It’s really great)

A:TLA, as wonderful as this show is, doesn’t do that for Kat@ra and A/ang.

From memory, The Storm is the episode that really touched on Aan/g’s flightiness, but Katara coddles him in that one, trying to tell him “it’s not your fault, if you hadn’t run, you might’ve died as well” which can be taken either way (IMO she’s right and wrong at the same time. Yes, Aa/ng might’ve died, but also, he needs a solid kick in the pants sometimes, I’ll talk about it later)

The next time his flightiness rears its ugly head, it’s in The Desert. After Appa is stolen, Aan/g runs off to go look for Appa, and Katara is left with Toph, Sokka, and Momo to try and get out of the desert on foot. The entire day turns into a trainwreck, as Toph has extreme guilt for failing to keep the sandbenders from taking Appa (it isn’t her fault but that’s another meta) and Sokka (and Momo) drink cactus juice and is as a result, mentally incapacitated. With the dire mission of getting the news of the eclipse to Ba Sing Se, Katara’s the only one clear-headed enough to lead the way through the desert. Once A/ang does come back, he’s still upset from his inability to find Appa, and lashes out at the others for not caring to look for Appa (even though he’s far away and that no one has a means of transportation to find Appa). Tensions are already high in the group - with dwindling water supply, they have to make it out of the desert fast, but the rest of the team is losing hope - Toph because she feels like a failure and Sokka shaking off the effects of the cactus juice, and Katara looks so tired. When Aa/ng snaps at her, she doesn’t snap back, only quietly telling A/ang that she’s trying to keep this group together enough for them to survive. A/ang running away this episode is not addressed in favor of the team getting out of the desert alive. 

Finally, in the finale four-parter, Aan/g runs away again. This time she can only hope that he’ll come back and do his job, but she’s got other stuff to worry about, like the upcoming fight with Azula. 

Afterwards...

they don’t talk about it.

YEAH YOU READ THAT RIGHT. They don’t talk about it. They don’t address the running away issues, they don’t address when A@ng kissed her without her consent twice, they just hug on a balcony and then kiss symbolizing a marriage, because I definitely signed up for East Asian Jesus making out with his mom! Definitely! They don’t talk, Katara becomes a silent character and it gets even worse in LoK ~

*Nightfalcon proceeds to take a few minutes to scream*

And of course, no one else really calls out Aa/ng, except for Toph in Bitter Work, but that was more on his fighting/bending style and not on him in general.

The only other really memorable time where Katara’s abandonment issues are brought up is when she’s ranting at her dad in The Awakening, where she takes issue with both him and A/ang leaving her, and for the most part, Hakoda does give her the support she needs.

Heck, in the finale arc, Zuko tells her that it’s probably for the best that Aang is given some time alone to run to his room and meditate. probably because the last time Katara and A/ang were alone, A@ng kissed her without her consent and I’m going into full speculation territory but what if Zuko knows and doesn’t want that to happen again?

So Katara is repeatedly told by the narrative that Aa/ng is the type to run away when things get tough, and that she should let him.

I see both sides of the issue, and I get it, but when it comes to pairing people off in a relationship, well, they shouldn’t have gotten together.

Anyways, Aan/g is also twelve and has proven numerous times to be unable to support Katara emotionally, and has kissed her without her consent twice, while Katara is 14 going on 28 because of the war, losing her mom and stepping up as the mother figure for her entire family, and later because Aang isn’t allowed to grow up at all, along with other symbolism that shoots Kataa/ng in the foot. 

TL;DR: Katara and A/ang never really talk about A@ng’s running away issues, and no one comes up to support Katara (they do validate her but it’s not a whole support system she can fall back on fully), and Aa/ng is way too immature for a full on relationship at the time of the show’s end. 

So what was the point of this rambly mess? It’s to show how to write a relationship where one character has a tendency to run away while the other one has abandonment issues. I like Bumbleby because Blake acknowledges that it’s a flaw of hers and she actively works to toning it down and Yang has a whole support system and both get to talk about it and aaaahhhhh the communication between them, while you have Katara and A@ng never addressing the issue because Katara’s so gosh darn afraid of stepping on his feelings (see: The Waterbending Scroll) and no one fully provides support for her (Hakoda keeps getting separated from the Gaang and she and Zuko became friends at the end of TSR, and only had an episode between that one and the finale arc so it left a lot unexplored of their friendship) and Aan/g is therefore taught that it’s a-OK to invalidate the feelings of the person you like because you’ll get them in the end!

[wantstoflyafraidtofall]

Summary: The Christmas season was always hard for the Novak family but this year Castiel has someone to help him through it. Dean is determined to help his boyfriend, Cas, get through a holiday gathering with his family.

Read on Ao3

(Fic bellow the cut)

Families can be hard. And if Dean ‘my dad’s homophobia made me too afraid to come out of the closet even after he passed’ Winchester had one goal tonight, it is to make this as easy as the universe would allow him. Having your parents know that your a biromantic asexual and actually coming home with a boyfriend are two entirely different ballparks.

Cas had insisted that Dean should come to meet his family this Christmas. The previous years they had always gone down to Dean’s basically surrogate father’s place. Bobby was a bit rough around the edges but was all gushy at the core and welcomed Cas to the family with a smile and slap on the back(He could have sworn he heard a ‘finally!’ as well).

Ellen and Jo both gave Cas some… stern talking-to’s about what getting with Dean entails that left him a little shaken, but over the past four years of being Dean’s ‘boyfriend’ instead of ‘best friend’ has shown him worthy of Dean’s heart. Jody and Donna had been more than welcoming as well, even inviting him and Dean over for a nice dinner one night.

Sam was probably the most excited. He flew all the way from California to congratulate them in person and even got a little teared up by Dean accepting himself for who he was. He had stayed the remainder of the week and spent the whole time smiling at them and helicoptering around them to make sure it was real.

Dean has to admit, he is kinda glad they aren't spending the entire Christmas weekend at the Novak’s. He loves Cas and would do anything for him but his family gives him the creeps. It’s a good thing Cas doesn’t want to stay either. He found that the Winchester Christmases with movie nights, warm fires, and eggnog, much more enjoyable than “an uncomfortable, over formal Christmas dinner where the chairs are replaced with the sticks up their asses”, as Cas once put it.

He didn’t begin to feel the pinpricks of nervousness until they steered the impala into the gated neighborhood where Cas’s family lived. The tall borderline-mansion houses could be seen across the large well-trimmed yards, illuminated by professionally hung Christmas décor and outdoor spotlights.

“What did you say the address was again?” Dean asked, leaning toward where Cas sat next to him, fidgeting nervously.

“1574 Rosealee Court-” Cas sat forward pointing out the window at the house, “-That’s it, right there.”

Dean turned into the driveway, internally judging how they had lined the entire perimeter of the pavement with tiny white lights. He slowly rolled to a stop a little past halfway around the U of the driveway, pulling the keys out of the ignition. The silence replaced the loud rumble of the engine and quietly playing songs from the Christmas cassette Dean had gotten for Cas a few years back after discovering his love for the seasons music.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean spoke softly and slid across the bench seat to wrap an arm around Cas’s shoulder, his other hand finding Cas’s and gentle squeezing it.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” Cas was squinting up at the house and it’s artificial Christmas feel.

“Hey, look at me,” Dean waited for Cas to turn to him, his too-blue eyes shining in the bright lights, and pressed a gentle kiss on his warm lips. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to be here the whole time. Won’t even go for bathroom breaks.”

Cas smiled and Dean didn’t fight the grin that bubbled out of the warm feeling in his gut. He leaned forward and placed one more chaste peck on Cas’s lips before ushering him out of the car. Taking Cas’s hand in his, they made their way up to the door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for the blurry figure to appear in the  beveled glass To let them in.

“CASSIE!” Gabriel shrilled as he opened the door, pulling his younger brother into a tight hug. Dean must have been staring because next Gabriel turns to him with a wide smirk. “Aww, Dean-o, is my baby brothers boy-toy feeling left out? Come’ere-” He pulled Dean into a bone-crushing embrace that left him a little light headed when the shorter man set him down back onto his feet.

“Gabriel, I didn’t expect you to be here.” Cas said, surprised.

“Well, I wasn’t going to come but when I heard Cassie was coming and bringing ‘his significant other’ I just had to make sure it was Dean here they were talking about. I am hurt that not once you mentioned to me that you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses and got together. I mean, I am your brother and-”

“Is that Castiel?” A voice said from behind.

Gabriel stepped back to reveal its owner, and it was no one other than Naomi Novak, Cas’s mother. She walked up to the door, shooing Gabriel to the side and gesturing for them both to come inside. She smiled when Dean looked at her but it didn’t reach her eyes and looked unnatural on her tight face.

She closed the door behind them and waited for them to strip off their coats, scanning their jeans and Henleys with an air of distaste. Naomi kept that smile plastered on her face, however, as she led them deeper into the house to what must be the family room.

There was a gas-lit fire burning in the large fireplace under the mantle where the TV hung, traditional Christmas music playing off one of those music channels. Cas led him over to the couch, adjusting the throw pillows to make the stiff furniture a little more comfortable. Gabriel strode in just as they got settled and splayed himself out on a white leather chair across from them.

“I’ll just be a moment. Your brothers are in the kitchen, I’ll go bring them out to say hello to you and…” Naomi looked over at Dean questioningly.

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” Dean said, finding it a little odd that Naomi couldn’t remember his name. He’s come over for barbeques and such as a friend before, perhaps she was doing it to piss off Cas.

“Yes, Dean.” She finished, the ugly smile twisting her lips again. “Oh! And I almost forgot to mention, your father decided to join us tonight as well, he is upstairs and will be down soon.”

He felt Cas squeeze his hand tighter and his face paled slightly at the mention of Chuck. Gabriel sent a worried glance their way as Naomi strutted off to the kitchen, satisfied with her work.

“It’s going to be ok, I’ll be right here.” Dean whispered and Cas nodded in reply.

Cas hated his father. Chuck left when he was 5, disappearing until he was almost 15. Naomi welcomed him back as if he was never gone, ignoring the fact that he was a broke alcoholic. Cas had a horrid few years till he got out of the house and to college where he met Dean.

Dean was studying to be an English teacher, Cas a writer. They had met one eventful evening when Dean rounded a corner too fast, running straight(haha yeah right) into Castiel in a fatal collision that ruined 2 cups of coffee and a shit ton of papers.

“So,” Gabriel said, attempting to clear the tension, “how long?”

“What?” Dean said, looking over to where the man was sprawled out in the chair.

“How long have you two been a pair?”

“Uhh,” Dean glanced over at Cas who shrugged. “You sure you wanna know?”

“It’s not like it's been going on for that long. Spill!”

Dean cleared his throat, “about four years now.”

“Ha nice try. For real now, how long?”

“He’s right, it’ll be five years next fall.” Cas stated.

Gabe’s jaw dropped as he looked between the two of them. He seemed to catch up because the next moment he was standing up and shrieking, “ WHAT! Four years! Cassie why didn’t you tell me!”

Cas cowered back into the still cushions, but thankfully, whatever was about to happen was interrupted by someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Michael stepped into the room, tailed by Lucifer and Naomi. They all walked over and settled down one the couch and the remaining chair, leaving a space for Chuck.

They ease into a shallow conversation about the rise in profits at Michael’s company. Dean tunes out, letting the sound of Michael’s money talk become background noise to his thoughts. Cas was still gripping his hand tightly, his posture ridgid as if waiting for something to pounce.

Dean rubbed his thumb gently over Cas’s knuckles in a soothing gesture, hoping to silently comfort and remind him of his support and presence. After a while, Cas did seem to relax a bit. His grip was a bit looser and he was leaning back against the couch now. Everything seemed to be going great until Chuck Novak made his way into the room and sat down on the couch where he could look directly at Cas and Dean.

Cas immediately was on alert once more and even Dean felt the hairs on his neck rise. Chuck skimmed over them with a blank expression, pausing briefly at their conjoined hands.

The thing is, Chuck 'doesn't mind the LGBTs’ as long as it’s not his son. When it comes to this, the cowardish, skittish little man Chuck appears to be takes the back seat while a stone cold, angry version takes up front. Dean has only seen that happen once before when Gabe had mentioned relationships he has had with members of the same sex before he had met Kahli, and he is not happy to be seeing it again.

Dean tries to turn his attention to the conversation. Lucifer and Michael are explaining in extraneous detail what the company's main goal is to Naomi who seems to be understanding most of it. He thinks for a second that tonight may just go ok when the conversation ends, allowing the main focus to switch to the couple.

“So,” Naomi asks, “how long have you been together.”

“Four years.” Castiel states, looking his father in the eyes as he does so.

They all look a little taken aback that the two had been together for that long without anyone knowing about it in the slightest.

“And how’s that going for you?” She says through her fake smile.

“Quite well, actually,” Dean says, “We have an apartment together in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Im a High School English teacher there. We are really happy there.”

“Are you sure?” Chuck cut in.

“What?”

“Are you ok with… you know?” Chuck said, waving his hands around like Dean was supposed to know what he was talking about.

“If he ok with what, Chuck?” Cas said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Me being asexual?”

“Honey, there is no need to get angry, we are just making sure Dean thinks it’s a fair relationship for him.” Naomi chides.

A burst of rage sparks in Dean’s chest and he can see the turmoil in Cas’s eyes as he glares at his father. How can someone speak like that about their child? About someone as amazing as Cas?

“Dean, you can’t possibly be happy in a relationship like that! People like you love sex, right?”

This isn’t the first time the comment has been thrown his way but after what they had just said to Cas, it snaps something in Dean. A tight ball of anger bubbles in his chest as he fights to keep from blowing up. He takes a deep breath and meets Chuck’s eyes.

“People like me, meaning Bisexuals?” Dean says, keeping his voice as cool as possible.

Naomi flinches at the word a bit but agrees.

“I am perfectly happy in my relationship with Cas. Contrary to your belief, bisexuals are not sex driven animals and asexuals aren't broken people who will never find love and you have to be seriously messed up to think that sex is necessary for a relationship.” Dean snaps before standing up from the couch, pulling Cas up with him. “Thanks for having us, we’ll be leaving now.”

He borderline stomps to the front door and helps Cas with his coat before donning his own and they head out to the impala. He starts the car, blasting the heat and driving off in silence. They are just pulling out of the suburb area when he hears a sniffle from Cas. Dean instantly pulls the car over and flicks on his hazards before slinging across the bench seat.

Dean opens his arms and Cas slides over and buries his face in Dean’s chest, his fingers twisting up in the back of Dean’s coat as a sob slips out. Followed by another, and another until Cas is clinging to Dean, crying into his coat as Dean gently runs his hands up and down Cas’s back, whispering soft affirmations between kisses into Cas’s hair.

When Cas’s breathing evens out, he leans back from Dean, wiping at his red eyes and nose with his sleeve.

“M’sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sunshine. Hey, how about we go to that festival we saw driving in, hmm?”

Cas nodded and buckled back into his seat while Dean buckled his own and pulled back on the road. He turned up the volume as I’m Dreaming Of A White Christmas began to play. Dean smiled as he thought back to the first snow of the season. It was early November when the weather took a dip.

Cas’s cheeks were rosy and he kept wiping his nose, the cold air making their breath come out in small puffs while they trudged their way up the hill, dragging the plastic sled behind them.

When they reached the top, Dean pushed the sled down into the snow and plopped into the back of the bright orange contraption, planting his feet to make sure it wouldn't slide before they were ready. Cas straddled in front of Dean before sitting down and falling back against Dean’s chest, putting his feet in the front of the sled and trying to make enough room for Dean’s with the thick snow pants on.

Dean wrapped his arms around the front of Cas to grab the thin rope used to steer the thing, Cas grabbed a hold too, smiling in anticipation. Dean scootched forward and the sled barely moved an inch. Cas laughed and began scooching in sync with Dean and before they knew it, Dean had his feet up in the front of the sled with Cas and they rocketed down the hill, whooping and laughing all the way down.

The thought helped ease some of the emotions swirling in his stomach as they drove into town. Knowing how much Cas loves it, despite his insistence on the opposite, Dean begins singing along to the song.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.

Just like the ones I used to know.”

Dean looked over at Cas and gave him a smile before continuing.

“ Where the tree-tops glisten,

And children listen,

To hear, sleigh bells in the snow.”

He hears Cas clear his throat and join in on the next line.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

“With every Christmas card I write

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white”

Cas laid his hand palm up in the middle of the seat and Dean took it, lifting it up to his face and dropping a kiss to his knuckles before singing the next lines.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

“With every Christmas card I write

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white

“May your days be merry and bright

“And may all your Christmases be white”

The song ended just as they pulled into the lot. There weren't many people here, but that’s perfect for them tonight. The soft colored lights and sweet smells of the carnival made the night seem warmer than the frigid temperature it actually was.

Dean reached over the seat and came back with some hats and gloves for him, mittens for Cas. He put his on, waiting for Cas to do the same before they got out of the car and held hands as they made their way to the small ticket booth by the entrance. Dean handed over some cash and took his tickets with a ‘thanks’ before making his way towards the rides.

“Ooo let’s go get some hot chocolate.” Dean said, pulling Cas over to the warm, coca scented tent and ordering two cups.

The heat from the paper cup could be felt through Dean’s glove as he walked, taking careful sips to not burn his tongue on the too-hot chocolate.

“Dean, can we go on the ferris wheel?” Cas asked, gesturing towards the white metal ride with red and orange lights making spirals along the beams.

“Sure, why not.”

They went up to the lady sitting by the control panel and handed her the required amount of tickets for the ride and stepped into the carriage. Dean watched Cas from his side of the car, watching how Cas looked out the window, wiping the glass when his breath fogs it up too much to see out of. He feels a small smile tug at the corner of his lips when Cas turns and meets his eyes.

“Dean,” Cas starts.

“Yeah?”

“Does it bother you? My asexuality?” Cas said, looking down at the floor.

“Of course not Cas! I love you. I don’t need sex to love you. And it’s not like we’ve never had sex, just not frequently, and I am ok with that. I love you and love to spend time with you and that’s what matters to me.” Dean says softly, leaning forwards across the narrow aisle to take Cas’s hands in his.

What did Dean do to get someone like Cas? Someone so caring and compassionate, so smart and creative, so… Cas.

“Castiel James Novak, my sex indiferent asexual boyfriend and best friend, I love you so much. More than pie, more than Baby, hell, more than anything. Any day I spend with you is a good day. You are the kindest, smartest, most caring person I know and I’ll be damned to let some asshole make you think that you could ever not be loved.”

There were tears flowing down Cas’s cheeks and Dean wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling Cas in for a caste kiss, and another, and again. He peppered Cas’s forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips with soft kisses before pressing his lips firmly but softly to Cas’s warm, slightly chapped ones.

Cas let his tongue flick out on Dean’s bottom lip and taking full advantage of the opening Dean’s gasp gives to dive deeper into his mouth with his tongue. Dean gives as much as he gets, trying to push as much of his love into one single kiss as humanly possible.

When they break away, both panting slightly, their car is stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel. They look out the small windows at the town and its rows of light adorned houses.

“It’s beautiful.” Cas sighs.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Dean replies.

“Aww getting all sappy, Dean?” Cas chuckles.

“No- I- No-” Cas cuts Dean off by pressing another kiss to his lips.

They break apart in fits of laughter, their car shaking as they laugh and laugh and laugh. They only stop once the wheel begins moving again but when they get off, they both have bright smiles on their faces.

The smiles stay the rest of the night and all the way home as they sing Christmas songs on the ride home all the way to the moment they strip out of their winter clothes and get ready for bed, curling under the soft covers in each other's arms.

“I love you.” Dean whispers as he tetters on the verge of sleep and just as he tumbles over, he hears Cas say back, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~(Feel free to ask to be added to the tag list)~~~~~~

@kinda-not-really-vibing

[bluemoon-writer]

TSI - Chapter 1 Notes

Here are my full notes and commentary for Chapter 1 of my Harry Potter fic 'The Snake Inside'.

Chapter 1 can be found here.

Throughout the chapter there are numbers in parentheses, these numbers correspond to the below notes. To best understand what I’m talking about in the notes I would recommend opening the story in a second tab and following along from there.

(notes begin under the cut)

1. This is, if you hadn’t noticed, lifted directly from the book, I do do this a couple times however, this is the only one that is italicized. I’m going to try and point out the other instances in chapter notes as well.

2. Another line lifted from the book, although here it has slightly different context

3. This was another line from the book, although again it has slightly different context (also I swear these notes aren’t just going to be me citing passages from the book)

4. I was actually really conflicted over this. Dudley is obviously incredibly spoiled so I figured it made sense that if for once Harry had something that he didn’t that he would throw a fit and demand he get the same. What I wasn’t confident about was how Petunia or Vernon would react as they really do love Dudley, shown by how much they spoil him. In this scenario, I decided that Petunia’s hatred of magic plus her fear of losing Dudley to magic (just like she lost her sister) would drive her to hit Dudley.

5. The first signs of Harry’s sneaky Slytherin side! He reads the room and chooses the best manner to approach the situation, something he would be good at considering he grew up in an abusive household. He would likely have gotten very good at reading moods and acting accordingly at a young age to avoid being hit or yelled at.

6. It might seem like Harry is a little quick to believe in Hogwarts and want to go considering he knows nothing about it. But, it’s an escape from the Dursleys and the terrible school they were going to send him to. Plus, it’s obvious that the Dursleys hate magic, so why would they lie to Harry about him being a wizard?

7. I know in canon Hogwarts is free, but that simply doesn’t make sense to me. In my world, Hogwarts is the best and most elite school in Britain, but it’s not the only one. There are also smaller ‘public’ wizarding schools that people who can’t afford Hogwarts go to. Also, if Hogwarts has a tuition then it only makes sense to me that the Potter Parents would set up an education fund for Harry, especially since their lives were at risk, they would want to make sure that Harry would be able to get the best education possible.

8. Some more Slytherin sneakiness, Harry isn’t a master manipulator by any means but he’s lived with the Dursleys for 11 years, he knows how to play them.

9. I don’t write it in bc it seemed unnecessary, but she does explain her reasoning off-screen.

10. Some foreshadowing here, I thought I was rather clever, finding a logical way for Harry and Vernon to learn how to enter the train platform.

11. This whole paragraph is my attempt at showing how Harry is still just a kid who’s curious about the new world he’s found himself in. I know I write Harry (and all the characters his age) as being a little more mature than they probably would be in reality, so here I was trying to show a pure, childlike curiosity and also some trains of thought that aren’t totally logical bc he is a kid.

12. I do think the Dursleys, or Vernon at least, is more clever than he gets credit for, he is high up in Grunnings, so he has to have some sort of head on his shoulders, and he’s certainly self-serving we saw in book 2 how he lathered up those rich people he wanted to impress. So, I think as much as Vernon might hate magic and think goblins are disgusting, that he would very much be able to put that aside if he thought it might benefit him.

13. The goblins ‘revealing the truth’ to Harry, or giving him or helping him out in some way is kinda over done and doesn’t always make sense as the goblins really have no reason so want to go out of their way to help Harry. But, I needed an unbiased 3rd party to teach Harry a little about the wizarding world and I figured a satisfactory motivation for the goblins would be making money in the form of consultation fees.

14. The first hints of Dumbledore’s manipulations. He wants a naïve Savior who will be easy for him to influence and shape into the person he thinks the world needs. Note, I’m not going for an evil Dumbledore, just a morally grey Dumbledore.

15. Paper business refers to the practice of owning a business on paper but not being involved in how it’s currently ran, I’m not trying to say that the Potters own several companies that sell paper. I don’t know if this is a common term, when I googled it nothing came up, but my dad uses it a lot when talking about businesses. Also, we know in canon that the Potters are rich but in a lot of fics it has evolved into them being extremely wealthy and influential. I’m running with this fanon idea because the Potters are a very old family, they’ve been around since the 12thcentury and married into other very influential families in canon. Also, if I ever get to the later years I do want to mess around with some politics and Harry having power from his family name will be a necessary advantage.

16. I’m not going to bore you guys with paragraphs detailing just how exceedingly rich Harry is, if he can’t even do anything with what he owns yet. He’s 11, he’s not going to be making any smart investments.

17. Like I said earlier with the tuition vault, the Potters were soldiers in a war, they knew they might die and I think it’s only logical that they would take precautions to ensure that Harry would have a comfortable life should they die.

18. This might seem like a lot, but again, the Potters are rich and they want their only child to be able to have a comfortable life even if they die, plus it is supposed to last until Harry’s an adult.

19. This is not canon, JKR said that a galleon is approx. 5 British pounds. I think that’s too low, so I changed it. I mean, it’s solid gold and the highest form of currency it’s got to be worth more than that.

20. Trying to give Dumbledore the benefit of the doubt, but of course Vernon is going to be suspicious of anyone who took money that he could have used.

21. This is just something that I thought made sense, Gringotts has been established as being in the business of making money and how can they do that if they’re cut off from part of their clientele?

22. I’m trying to go in a new direction with the Dursleys, I’m not trying to redeem them, but like Dumbledore, they’re in a grey area, especially Vernon. I think a self-serving Vernon would be interested in learning more about the magic world, or more specifically learning what it can do for him. But also because you need to know your enemy, as interested as he might be in profiting off magic, Vernon doesn’t trust wizards. As for Harry, this is a Slytherin AU, of course he’s going to play along with his uncle’s plan as long as it benefits him.

23. This is another line from the book

24. Hints that Dean is actually a halfblood and not muggleborn, this is canon too. I’m looking forward to exploring the future “tracking down who my real dad was arc”

25. Originally, I had Harry meet Hermione and her family, but I decided to change it to Dean because I wanted to go down some different avenues. A lot of Slytherin Harry stories have Harry becoming friends with Hermione early on despite their differences and I didn’t want to just do the same thing as everyone else. Also, I really like Dean Thomas’s character he’s a friendly, good natured, brave and loyal. I also think that Harry would get along better with Dean right off the bat than he would with Hermione.

26. Honestly, I think it’s ridiculous that they still use quills and I will be using the trope where Harry sneaks in ballpoint pens.

27. Harry came to Diagon a few days earlier than he did in canon, so I figure it only makes sense that he would meet someone different at Madam Malkins also this gave me a great opportunity to shoe in one of my other favorite characters, Neville.

28. I headcanon that Harry and Neville have a slight magical bond over both being possible options for the prophecy.

29. I admit this is slightly unrealistic, as I’ve dropped my glasses several times before and they’ve never broken but I wanted an excuse to get Harry some new glasses.

30. Not implausible, but also not likely either. Also, I admit I really have no clue about British healthcare, especially not what it was like in the 80s and 90s. I know it’s free, but that there’s also the option to do private or paid care. So, for this story, assume that the Dursleys use private care bc they want to seem better than everyone else.

31. Again, probably not the most realistic scenario, but it is possible. I got glasses when I was 11 and contacts when I was 15, but I definitely could have gotten the contacts when I was a little younger. Maybe not, 11-years old younger, but I don’t think it’s entirely out of the ballpark.

32. I didn’t see any point in changing Hedwig’s name, so I kept it the same.

33. Giving Harry contacts was something that I debated a lot, there’s no real reason he needs them, I just wanted him to have some because they’re convenient. I personally regret not getting contacts earlier.

34. To be honest, this is actually a bit of a cop out on my end because I haven’t figured out the entire political system yet. BUT even if I had, Harry is still 11 so he probably wouldn’t understand it that well anyways. There will be a brief explanation in chapter 2 though.

35. Dudley’s reaction is anything thing I was really torn up about. Because he’s essentially torn between his two parents, sticking with Petunia ostracizes him from Vernon and sticking with Vernon ostracizes him from Petunia. Ultimately, I decided Dudley would value his father’s attention more because while Petunia wouldn’t like him getting involved with magic, she wouldn’t cut Dudley off completely, she loves him too much. But Vernon, has been completely distracted by magic and without Dudley getting involved in it too then he won’t get any attention from his father.

36. According to the HP wiki, Dean’s family actually lives in London, but I wanted it to be more convenient for them to meet so I moved them closer to the Dursleys. Also, I actually did about an hour’s worth of research on google maps trying to find a real place Dean’s family to live.

37. A whole lot of this section with the Weasleys was lifted from the book with slightly different commentary from Harry. I originally had more, but it didn’t add anything so I cut it out.

38. I don’t know how outgoing Ron was before he met Harry, if I was him though I would be too nervous to intrude on a compartment with two other kids who looked like they were already friends.

39. This is not a Ron bashing fic, Harry has no reason to dislike him, so of course he wouldn’t be opposed to sitting with him. That said, for the premise of the story I couldn’t have them sit together because Ron is heavily biased against Slytherin.

40. Poor Draco, if he had just paid more attention to who he was passing in the hall then he would have met Harry, but again, I couldn’t let that happen because Draco’s so obnoxious that he’d turn Harry off Slytherin.

41. Honestly, I just wanted Harry to interact with more students who can be potential friends.

42. Again, and the sorting is lifted from the book. I’m not going to make note of every line.

43. I wasn’t sure if I wanted Neville to be in Hufflepuff of Gryffindor at first. A lot of people argue that Neville needed to be in Gryffindor to learn how to be brave, but I think that Hufflepuff would provide a strong support system that would help Neville gain confidence in himself. Also, I decided that Harry’s words in the robe shop would influence Neville into not thinking that he was a loser if he went to Hufflepuff. I imagine in canon, much like Harry was chanting “not slytherin” Neville was probably chanting “not Hufflepuff”. So I think it’s fitting they both don’t end up in Gryffindor in this fic. Also, Harry already has a Gryffindor friend in Dean, he can use a Hufflepuff friend.

[messykingofcamp]

Numbers 30-40 for the 4:02 a.m. meme!

30.) Are your choices fated or of your own free will?

pHEW, what a question. I honestly can’t decide. I think that I’m one of those people who have free will but just choose to ignore it at the end of the day. That is because I do not trust my own free will. At least I could use “my choices are fated” as an excuse for eating too many cracker jacks and listening to Remains of the Day in my spare time, or using drive-ins as a fun little substitute for Tinder. (Don’t judge me here, every guy on Tinder always wants to go boating or mountain climbing. I am a student, I have a paper due Monday and need a quick dicking down, I do not want to go to a pancake house with you.)

31.) Do you have a hunch about how you’re doing to die?

Oh God, I have honestly no idea. I couldn’t tell you all on here because I am in the dark. Maybe some under-planned onstage stunt work if I make it onto Broadway? That sounds really impressive, which is why I don’t think it would happen. I’m honestly terrified of dying in a really embarrassing or underwhelming way, like falling and hitting my head on the washing machine. I just wouldn’t want anyone to find me because then they’d know I was a clown and got killed by a washing machine. I can see it now. One policeman would say: since he’s a clown, was the washing machine part of his act? The other one would say: No, he was just doing his laundry. Disappointment Vine would play in the background, my dad would hang his head, it would be very messy.

32.) Do you believe in star signs?

Ha, I don’t think so but I have to admit, they are pretty great with being able to sound exactly like you. I looked up what my star sign is, and it said “If you were born on August 8th, you are a Leo who’s good at arranging things.” That is super off, I can’t even arrange a threesome without someone getting sick or forgetting to get tested. Astrology girls are great though, I am here for their aesthetic. 

33.) How old do you have to be to be considered an adult?

Why do I feel like this is one of those questions that tricks you into sounding like a pedophile? Adults are 18 and older, but according to my Grindr bio, I’ve been 18 for maybe 3 years.

34.) Was your childhood happy?

I would say that my childhood was happy enough. Sure I probably weighed more back then compared to what I do now and I was lonely enough to always be talking about Newsies on Wattpad, and there was that whole weird era where my dad would pretend like he didn’t know his son who talked about Newsies on Wattpad was gay. But hey, could be worse. Being gay in a small town is tough, and I was lucky enough to have an accepting enough family and some good friends.

35.) What are you missing from your life?

Well right now everyone is stuck inside their houses because of the coronavirus, so I am missing being outdoors. I love my time indoors as much as the next guy who has unlimited access to early 2000’s era reality show reruns and a good supply of warm milk, but I miss how things used to be. I still have to take Fangs to see a Broadway musical, and I haven’t had a Pop’s hot dog in months which I could really go for. And hey, I’d never actually show my face at B*** M***** again but I Veronica and I could have at least walked past it on our way to another store.

36.) Have you met someone who had a similar personality to your own? Did you get along?

Honestly, I can not say that I’ve ever met someone with a similar personality to me. I think that Veronica and I can sometimes have similar senses of humor and Fangs and I both have a crackhead type of social media presence, but even then, we’re still so different. I can’t say what I would think of someone who is similar to me. I don’t think I would know how to respond in that situation.

37.) Do opposites attract?

To be honest, I don’t think that being opposite or being similar has anything to do with attraction. I’m attracted to the man who pumps my gas, but I wouldn’t actually ever want to date him. It’s just a shallow thing. But relationship wise? Different ballpark. If you’re too different from someone, that can kill the vibe quickly. If you can never agree on anything then you probably shouldn’t be together. But hey, what do I know? I’m not super experienced here or anything, it’s just what I’ve observed.

38.) Is your life what you expected it would be four years ago?

Love life wise? Not at all. Four years ago I was still in that phase everyone has in middle school where they think they’re going to find the perfect guy and have this endgame relationship, so you never expect you’ll end up with the guy you joined a cult with. But honestly, what I have now is better because it’s the realest relationship I’ve been in. Back then, I also never thought I’d get the chance to put on so many productions at RHS and yet here I am. I know those productions always ended in tears and the Greendale drama department has an entire groupchat to call us cringe, but I still do have good memories of working on those musicals. I don’t regret doing Carrie or Heathers. They needed to happen for me to get to Hedwig, and then to get to college where I can hopefully put on a stage production without something insanely bad happening during it.

39.) Do you know what you want out of life?

I was going to go with a quick joke answer and just say “d*ck”, but my followers don’t want to hear about all of that. So I will try to answer this one seriously. If there’s one thing I really want to have in my life at this point, I would want to keep pushing boundaries in some way. For a gay theater kid who produced cringe content while he was in high school, I surprisingly did not do a lot of boundary pushing outside of my play productions. It’s not even something I knew I could do until I did Hedwig. Defending Hedwig wasn’t about the variety show. Every LGBT kid at RHS knows what it feels like to be pushed out of spaces because people feel uncomfortable. Sure it’s not outright homophobia, but it kept happening with Mr. Honey and we all knew it.

40.) What makes a person “good?” Are you a “good” person?

What makes a person good? I can’t say, but I like to think that I’ve been a good person. Certain people like Moose and the butcher from Lidl might say differently though.

[unibrowzz]

My Personal Eurovision Winners (and then some) Part VII: 2010-2020

And now we reach the final part of this 7 part series. Thank you all for actually sticking with this, because I know some people read it and that makes me a happy kitty :’)

Now, the 2010s were a weird decade for me, since this is the only decade I actually watched live. I started watching Eurovision in 2010 (though I have some vague memories of 2006), started taking notes on the contest in 2012, and started getting into the fandom around... 2014-ish. And confession: I haven’t rewatched any 10s contest since.

The 10s winners are a mixed bunch. I’d put them in the same ballpark as the 00s, only this time I really dislike the ones I dislike. Like they’d probably be bottom tier, would refuse to listen to songs. But I’m procrastinating.

2010- Spain- Daniel Diges- “Algo pequenito”

Honestly I think I only remembered this song because it had a ballet dancer in it. I didn’t even notice they got stage jumped. But then again, he fits right at home with all the other chaos on stage. 

2011- Denmark- A Friend in London- “New Tomorrow”

I remember being absolutely convinced this song would win on the night because I was led to believe that only Scandinavian countries win Eurovision these days because they pay their neighbours to vote for them or whatever shit the UK media spews out and being very disappointed when it didn’t. I learnt not to trust the UK propaganda machine after that. ... Or so I thought. ANYWAYS... I just really like this song, I found it very appealing as a 14 year old going into the contest completely blind and I find it appealing as a 24 year old now. It’s a corny late 00s/early 10s pop-rock anthem, sure but... Come on, are we really expecting anything else?

2012- Spain- Pastora Soler- “Quedate Conmigo”

Is it me or was 2012 a really terrible year? I barely remember anything from it. Aside from the winner, but I haven’t been given a chance to forget it. Lucky me. It was between Spain and Iceland for 2012 for me though, I ddn’t really want to put either since I put Spain down for 2010 and Iceland for 2013, but hey, unlike with Iceland’s song I haven’t gotten sick of this one yet  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2013- Iceland-  Eythor Ingi- “Ég á Líf”

Do you know how hard it is coming from a family of Only Teardrops stans and preferring a song that’s not only not in English but also stereotypically boring? ... The answer is not at all because I refuse to tell my family which Eurovision songs I actually like. Anyways, stick with the live version of this one, I just prefer the way he sings it. It feels a lot more heartfelt and impassioned than the studio at least.

2014- Portugal- Suzy- “Quero Ser Tua”

So despite 2014 having a lot of things people remember really fondly (ie, winning entry, runner up, stage, etc) the songs were... Well, I can barely remember anything from this year aside from the winner had a beard, the Dutch sent country and Poland sent a whole lot of boobs. And also this. I liked this. I don’t remember it not qualifying though, I must’ve left the room or something. I just remember watching the final and Portugal not being there and being very :(

2015- Serbia- Bojana Stamenov- “Beauty Never Lies”

I remember being absolutely convinced this song would win on the night because I was led to believe that- I.... probably should have learnt my lesson from 2011. But to quote myself from when I was asked to review this song... “But yes, this is either my 2015 winner or runner up depending on how I’m feeling about Heroes. Which is bizarre as all Hell given how A) I don’t usually give a fuck about Balkan entries and B) It’s… really not the kind of song I’d usually gravitate towards. I’m sure you’ve seen enough of this blog to know that “I’m different and that’s a good thing” club songs aren’t exactly my cup of coffee after all. But… yeah, for some reason I just like this song. Probably my favourite Serbian entry behind Molitva if I’m honest.”

2016- France- Amir Haddad- “J’ai cherche”

Man, anyone else remember the disappointment of spending the entire ESC season listening to a song and hyping it up, only for the live performance to suck? That’s this song. Granted the studio still goes hard af, and I still like it but man, this is the song that made me realise just how much a live performance can change a song.

2017- Croatia- Jaques Houdek- “My Friend”

I was going to put Italy for this but fuck it, I wasn’t about to have another double winner because double wins make me mad. Uh, spoilers for 2018 by the way. But this song is just proof that Croatia should be the only country in Eurovision allowed to send opera songs. Namely because they’ve sent like, what, two and they’ve both been amongst my favourite entries of that year. 

2018- Italy- Ermal Meta & Fabrizio Moro- “Non mi avette fatto niente”

Oh my basic, basic ass fave. How I wish you’d come second. How I wish you’d come first.

2019- Malta- Michaela Pace- “Chameleon”

I ALMOST went with Romania for this, but I wanted to limit myself to one NQ winner and I blew that card on 2014. Not that it matters much because unlike 2014, I found 2019 to be a fairly strong year. Granted there were a few songs that were so shoved in my face I’d rather drink a tall glass of cold vomit than listen to them ever again (see: Soldi), but there were still a lot of songs I would probably say could make it into my top three of that country. This being one of them. Now Malta is a pretty terrible country in Eurovision, in my opinion. Their 70s entries are completely forgettable, their 90s entries are some of the worst Eurovision songs I’ve heard, and the 00s is a mix of both. Thankfully they’ve managed to clean themselves up in recent years; their 2017 and 18 entries both deserved to qualify in my opinion, and their 2019 entry is the best they’ve ever sent. 

2020- Ukraine- Go_A- “Solovey”

So 2020 blew ass in terms of songs, but this song didn’t blow ass at all let’s try and talk about it for a while. Key word being try, because I’m bored and I want to get this posted as soon as possible. Anyways, this song was love at first listen. An immediate download. Had it on loop for like, an hour. I just fell for this song, and I still absolutely love it.

Aaaand that’s a wrap! This wasn’t as fun as I’d hoped it would be, but it’s something I wanted to do for a while :D

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter One): Welcome to Hope County

Notes: Soooo, I’ve been talking about this for a bit and it’s time to just take the jump and start publishing my Far Cry 5 fic. I hope you enjoy. Also, i have like a series warning for this that will be on every chapter cause it needs it. 

Summary: Dahlia Hale is the youngest person working at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department. Hailing from a small town in Louisiana, it’s going to take her some time to fully acclimate to the new environment and living on her own. Developing friendships takes time even for the most functional of people and for disasters like Dahlia it takes even longer. She gets along with her coworkers and there’s some religious family who’s taken a shine to her, for some reason. It seems like she’s on her way to getting the kind of friends she’s only ever dreamed about, even if it’s going to take some more time. 

Then everything goes to shit. 

Halfway through her six-month probationary hire and that nice religious family has kicked off a holy war with her becoming enemy number one.

To one side she’s a hero. 

To the other she’s a monster. She’s not sure which is right. 

Word Count: 9,290

Series Warning: I usually do not like to spoil endgame pairings in my fics, but this warrants being up front. This series is polyseed and involves heavy, recurrent themes of at times romanticized noncon, dubcon, large age differences, and stockholm syndrome that develops into a romantic relationship. The relationship between my oc and the Seeds is extremely unhealthy, toxic, and should never be replicated or sought out in real life. No matter how things progress or how they are portrayed at different points, this fact remains the same. i am comfortable exploring and enjoying these themes in fiction, not everyone is. If you are uncomfortable with or triggered by any of these things, please skip this and take the precautions you feel necessary to avoid this material. If you are an individual who struggles with separating reality and fiction; please do not read this. Otherwise, if you’re comfortable with and enjoy that kind of content, please enjoy. 

Chapter Warnings: Bliss flowers, hallucinations, threats of violence (really not bad compared to whats to come)

A shiver rolls down Dahlia’s spine, the chill of the Montana night settling into her bones. A sign welcomes her to Hope County, her motorcycle tire spinning dirt at it as she passes. The moon shines bright in the sky, cascading silver light down on everything. It’s beautiful despite the cold, light reflecting off the lakes and streams that pass through the county.  

It’s mostly woods and forests, fields of big white flowers and animals wandering through. The entire county is begging to be put on a postcard, from the animals, to the fields, to the…giant cement statue of a guy with a manbun…

Her tires squeal as she comes to a stop on the thankfully vacant road, she pushes the visor of her helmet up, as if the tint could cause her to see something like this. Sure enough, the white hunk of stone is still there. It’s of a man with his hair pulled back in a small bun, in one hand he holds a book and the other gestures outward. 

Hair raises on the back of her neck and goosebumps collect across her skin, the statue is…eerie. It looms across the entire region, a creeping specter. Unnerving doesn’t even begin to describe it, her body has started to lean towards it, almost drawn to it. 

Maybe it’s a historical figure for the county? People do that right, build monuments to founders or something. The clothes of the figure seem old fashioned, but she’s not sure about how far back the manbun goes.

She shakes her head and slaps her visor back down, she needs sleep. It shouldn’t be much further to her hotel. Dahlia revs her engine and rushes off that way, finally finding the large wooden hotel with its red roof. There’s a large wooden sign welcoming her to the King’s Hot Spring Hotel, the parking lot is decidedly vacant, and she comes to a stop by the smaller stone black sign that sits close to the larger wooden one, easy to overlook if someone wasn’t looking close enough. 

“King’s Hot Spring Hotel

On May 12th, 1902 a 7.6 earthquake struck the mountain south of the hotel. It created a 10 million ton landslide that sliced a deep crevice in the earth and destroyed half the King’s hotel. 16 people were killed in the landslide, their bodies never recovered. To this day, their ghosts are said to haunt the site of the rebuilt hotel. 

Built 1866.”

So, from a dirty cockroach motel to a haunted hotel, certainly a step up. She doesn’t really believe in ghosts, they’re cool as all hell, she loves creepy shit. But she doesn’t think any of it is real and if she’s wrong, maybe the ghosts will be nice enough to kill her. She parks her bike and shuts off the engine, unclipping her storage bag from it and making her way to the door. 

The inside feels warm and welcoming, rustic. A large stone fireplace with a bear skin rug in front of it, wooden stairs leading to the upper floors. Her eyes scan the room and she finds a registration desk where a woman sits, reading from a white book. She stands out slightly in the old styled hotel, tattoos covering her arms. The woman’s light, almost milky, green eyes, look up to see Dahlia as she makes her way to the desk. 

“I called ahead and reserved a room for tonight.” 

“Hale, right?” The girl flashes a soft smile as she slides the registration forms across the desk and Dahlia finds herself looking down at the receptionist’s arms, SLOTH and ENVY with strikes through them; half tattooed and half scarred in the woman’s skin. Heavy-handed work. 

“Yeah, that’s me, how’d you know?” 

“Oh, not many folks check in here anymore, between the ghost tales and the new management.” 

“Management?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow as she finishes scribbling in her info and handing her card over. 

“Here,” the woman hands Dahlia’s card back along with a room key and a map, “I’m sure you’ll find the path.” 

“Uhh…thanks…” 

She shakes her head as she leaves the desk, doing a double take at the worker, who’s now back to reading the large white tome with a soft smile on her face. Dahlia is entirely too tired to deal with weird cryptic people, maybe she’s trying to play up the creepy factor of the supposedly haunted hotel. Probably intrigues the tourists or some shit. She takes her phone from her pocket, ringing Lloyd as she walks to her room. 

“Hey, Stray,” He greets her with the nickname he gave her and she already feels a little better despite the chill and exhaustion. 

“Hey,” Dahlia unlocks her room and strides in, there’s a deer head mounted on the wall and a vase of those white flowers on the bedside drawer, “just wanted to let you know that I am officially in Hope County.” 

She tosses her luggage, along with the gunk the receptionist gave her onto the bed and does a fist bump for no one’s benefit but her own. 

“That’s good, your interview is tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah, hopefully it’ll go well, if not it might be another year of me eating cheese puffs on your couch.” 

“You make it sound like you’re some sort of bum.” 

“I mean…” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m gonna be a mess when you go.” 

“If I go, still gotta get the job.” 

“You’re gonna nail it, I know it, me and Earl were friends way back. He’s not dumb enough to let you go. And if he is, well, I’ll be having some words with him.”

“You can’t fight someone for not wanting to hire me.” 

“I mean, I can, uh, yeah, sweetie it’s stray, I was kinda, oh Caroline wants-“ 

“Stray, did you throw your fucking phone away?” Caroline, Lloyd’s wife, is on the phone in a second, worriedly yelling. 

“I talked to you when I stopped off in Denver.” 

“Yeah, in a dingy nasty motel and then we didn’t hear a word from you for over twelve fucking hours!” 

“I’m pretty sure I could handle myself,” Dahlia laughs and rolls her eyes, the concern is appreciated but unneeded. She’s a cop and despite her short stature, she’s got muscles and knows how to protect her. Maybe it’s cocky and arrogant, but at this point in her life, she’s not afraid of anything hurting her physically, mentally and emotionally is a whole other ballpark. 

“Still, what if you were in an accident. Have you ate? Do you know where you’re eating tonight?” 

She ate back in Denver and her stomach is growling now, but she mostly just wants a shower and sleep. She’d rather just grab room service for breakfast. 

“I’m fine, I’ve ate and I will eat. Stop worrying, now I’m gonna get settled in for the night, I’ll call you after the interview.” 

“Wait, ha-”

“Goodbye, mon cher,” Dahlia ends the call after her casual term of endearment, cher and mon cher as normal to her as bud or pal. Maybe it’s just a Cajun French Louisiana thing, or it’s one of the many things she picked up from her dad. She instinctively plays with the ring that hangs from a chain around her neck, he was always so proud of where he came from, teaching her Cajun French from the moment she could talk. Would he be upset with her leaving the state? 

She shakes the thought from her head, she can’t concern herself with the opinions of people who aren’t here, as much as they’d mean to her. Dahlia finally has the tools to be independent and make her own way in this world, she needs to seize any and every opportunity. She double checks that her door is locked, before stripping out of her clothes. 

Dahlia sets her phone to play music as she takes a shower, singing along to it as hot water eases her aching muscles. Once she’s cleaned, she dries off and starts to make her way to the bed where her luggage is. 

The large white blooms on the table between the bed and window, draw her eye, her suspicion confirmed that they’re the same as the fields of flowers she saw on her way here. They must be a common flower here. She’s not a plant person, but she can appreciate pretty flowers when she sees them. The petals are soft against her finger and she pulls out one of the fresh flowers, sniffing at it. It tickles her nose, the soft scent pleasant, but it makes her want to sneeze. She tucks it back in the vase and scrubs at her nose.

Her vision swims for a moment, suddenly light-headed. She hasn’t slept much and has been driving a lot, her eyes must be tired as well. 

Dahlia digs some comfy sleeping clothes from her bag to change into. Content in her shorts and tee, the hotel much warmer than the outside chill. She pushes her luggage off her bed and takes a look at the Hope County map.  

Her vision is still swimming but she reaffirms where she needs to be tomorrow for her interview. It’s over in Fall’s End at the Sheriff’s Department. Dahlia fishes a marker out of her discarded jacket pocket and then starts to write directions down on her right forearm before tucking the map away. 

She rifles a cigarette from her quickly emptying pack, most places don’t like their hotel rooms stinking like nicotine.

Cool air rushes in as she opens the window, she leans against the windowsill, appreciating the view of the moonlight reflecting in the pool of spring water. Montana really is beautiful. 

She lights her cigarette, looking away for a second to ignite it. 

“Ooooh ooooh~” A soft melodic voice drifts in, piercing the quiet, and Dahlia’s head snaps back to the window. 

In the grass, a woman surrounded by green mist spins and dances, singing softly into the night. She’s young, but still older than Dahlia with dirty blonde hair that falls past her shoulders. A white lace dress with flowers across the waist and skirt. Illuminated by moonlight, a heavenly glow, angelic but singing a siren’s song. 

Who would be out there at this time of night?

Dahlia’s the only one in the hotel and she doubts the staff indulges in nightly dance sessions. 

When did Dahlia start leaning further out the window? 

Every fiber of her being screams at her to run to the woman. To jump out the window if she has to, anything to get closer to the hauntingly beautiful woman dancing along the decks before the spring. 

Dahlia slams the window shut, quick and hard enough to rattle it. It’s late, she’s exhausted, she’s ridden her bike almost twenty-eight hours straight. Only stopping for a late night in a shitty hotel in Denver before getting back on the road at eight am this morning. 

Between ghost stories and exhaustion her brain is fucking with her. 

The woman’s singing is still there. 

Softer now but still present, still beckoning. 

Every muscle in her body is tense, prepared to bolt in order to go find that woman. 

She smashes her fist against the side of her head, the impact of her knuckles rattling her skull as she literally tries to knock sense into herself. Her visions seem to clear a bit and she can’t hear the singing anymore, but she also might have concussed herself. 

Her cigarette is stamped out before she’s even halfway through it and she’s setting her phone alarm before jumping into the bed. 

She buries her face in the pillow, no matter what she hears or thinks she’ll see, she’s not going anywhere until the morning. This interview is the most stressful thing she’s dealt with in years, so much rides on it, and she can’t be exhausted tomorrow from chasing fairy ghosts or what the fuck ever. 

Her mind is just playing tricks on her, it’s an asshole, it does that. 

She’s not certain exactly when she fell asleep, but the next thing she knows her alarm is going off. Dahlia groans and forces herself out of bed, she hates waking up. Her interview isn’t even late, but god, fuck waking up. 

Her head is clearer now, no swimming in her vision and no singing or sirens. She forces her way out of bed, groggily trying to go about her day. 

She’s running late, she’s always running late, time isn’t real.

After taking her sweet sleepy time to get herself put together and inhaling a room service breakfast, Dahlia is running down the hotel stairs and scrubbing syrup off her chin. Why does she do this to herself? The receptionist calls out something and she waves her off. 

Helmet slapped on and engine revving, she guns it out of the parking lot and makes her way to towards the Valley. She comes to a bridge and pulls her arm from her jacket to read her scribbled directions, remembering too late that she can’t read her own handwriting. 

She squints trying to decipher what the hell she wrote, her chicken scratch leaving a lot to be desired. It looks like it might say she’s going to Holland Valley or Halland Volley or Hallard, something to that effect by crossing the Honne…Benne…Rover….Dridge… Why does she do this to herself?

She’s probably on the right track, probably. Dahlia readjusts her jacket, confirming that her mess of directions won’t be getting any clearer the longer she stares at it and makes her way over the bridge. More signs hang from the inner framework of the bridge, half of them bearing a cross symbol with what looks like sunbeams coming from the center, the other half states The Power Of YES; Take The Leap.

Heebie jeebies nest in her gut, those goosebumps from earlier coming back. Religion…

Maybe it was too optimistic, but she had hoped further up North she’d see less of…that. She did searches online and was told based on some statistical thing that Montana was less religious than Louisiana. But apparently religion isn’t completely avoidable in the United States. 

The crisp smell of apples manages to break through her helmet as she leaves the bridge. Apple trees as far as the eye can see, bright red fruit gleaming under sunlight, a giant orchard surrounds the road. People mill about the apple trees; couples holding hands and parents hefting their children up on their shoulders to pick the highest apples their little hands can reach. A few people look at her as she rides past, the rev of her engine and the music pounding from her helmet drawing attention. Some looks are judgmental, others unconcerned, a small kid waves at her as she passes by and she waves back, smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. There’s a constructed Apple Statue in the orchard, noting that she’s riding through the Gardenview Orchard.

Over the horizon, built into the hills of the Holland Valley is a giant Hollywood style sign that says ‘YES’. It’s infinitely less creepy than the weird man statue, but far cheesier. Whether that’s better or worse? Who knows, but Hope County is definitely…weirder than she anticipated. 

She passes through the orchard and coming up on the left apple trees are replaced with pumpkins on the ground. Fields growing them, some clearly bigger and further along in the growing process, none fully ripe, however. A house is built among the fields, one fence with a sign that says Rae-Rae’s Pumpkin Farm. 

There’s a couple walking around, holding hands, but more importantly there’s a dog. A mottled coat of black, white, and blue gray with a bandana around their neck. The dog’s head raises at the rev of Dahlia’s motorcycle engine passing by on the road, tail wagging but he doesn’t run out, a well-trained doggo. 

She’s running late. 

She doesn’t have time. 

One pet can’t hurt. 

Dahlia comes to a screeching halt, tires squealing and bracing herself against her handlebars of her bike so she doesn’t fly across the farm. The couple taken aback, staring wide-eyed at her as she kills her music and yanks off her helmet. The doggie is still wagging its tail, eager to meet their new friend. 

“Can I pet your dog?” 

The couple is older, by Dahlia standards, so probably around their thirties…or forties…or twenties…ages confuse her. A woman with short sandy hair and a man with a knit hat over his head, the woman’s dropped jaw becomes a soft smile, her eyes gentle. 

“Of course,” a thick southern accent tints her voice, “Boomer’s doesn’t know a stranger.” 

Dahlia stays outside the wooden fence, not wanting to step on crops or something, but she leans over it. Boomer’s big brown eyes landing on her, so cute, she already loves him. A few coos and he’s already rushing over, standing to put his paws at the top of the fence so he can get some much-deserved love. She pets the top of his head, scratching behind his ears and around his neck. He eagerly leans into scritch and pet, licking her. 

“Awww, such a good boy, yes you are,” she praises and laughs, soaking it in. Even if she’s running late, this is more than worth it. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The woman asks. 

“Nah, here for a job interview,” Dahlia answers, hugging around Boomer’s neck as she snuggles him. 

“Where you interviewing at?” 

“Sheriff’s department.” 

“You’re kind of young for a cop, ain’tcha?”

“I’m an adult,” she says, shrugging her shoulders through the hug. She is a young adult and that’s all that needs to be said on that. 

“They finally trying to fill that deputy position?” 

“Seems like it.” 

“Sorry, to brush you off so soon, but we have to go pick up some equipment before noon and we’re already cutting it close.” 

Shit, right, time. She’s running late too, but the dog was worth it. 

“No problem, have a good one, you keep being a good boy, Boomer.” 

She gives a final scratch to his head, then slides her helmet back on, waving off the couple as she hops back on her bike. Her nerves have eased slightly at having gotten some time with a dog and even if she’s late, she doesn’t regret it. 

Her engine revs and she’s back to traveling down the quiet Montana roads. The sheriff’s department is in Fall’s End. A water tower baring the town’s name lets her know she’s arrived in the right area. It’s not a huge town. Along the main road, there’s the sheriff’s department, a general store, a bar, a church. There’s little streets and roadways showing that beyond those there’s houses and an apartment complex. Not huge, but certainly bigger than where she’s from, which…isn’t saying much. 

Dahlia parks her motorcycle outside the sheriff’s department, all those initially dissipated nerves are bubbling back to the surface. Her stomach in absolute knots and her muscles tense with anxiety. She shuts off her bike and pockets her keys then pulls off her helmet, fiddling with her hair. A deep breath, before she finally steels herself to step into the building.  

There’s a desk to Dahlia’s right when she enters the building, an older woman with a layered bob of red hair. 

“There something I can help you with, darling?” Her southern accented voice asks. 

“I have an interview with the sheriff.”

“Really,” the woman’s eyes scan Dahlia up and down, eyebrows furrowed in judgement, “can I get your name?” 

“Hale,” she murmurs, once again fiddling with her messy strands of dark hair. She knows she doesn’t exactly look the most professional right now. But professional clothes and motorcycles don’t truly mix. The woman, her desk tag says N. McClure, shuffles through some documents and reads over something. 

“Okay, just take a seat and I’ll let Earl know you’re here.”

Dahlia plops down in one of the reception area’s chairs, fiddling with the cat ears on her motorcycle helmet. Her leg bounces up and down, shaking out excess energy as the woman at the desk starts to call back, asking for Whitehorse. It’ll be fine, Dahlia reassures herself, Lloyd and Caroline have been talking her up to their old friend. All she needs to do is be herself, maybe, probably not. She’s kind of a mess. 

The clock hand ticks slowly, Dahlia feeling like she’s about to go crazy waiting for her interview to start. Finally, the woman hangs up the phone she was calling back to Whitehorse on, a soft smile on her face that pulls at the wrinkles around her eyes. 

“Earl’s ready to talk to you, come on back.”

The older woman steps out and helps show Dahlia to the office door, passing through a bullpen style office area to get there, Sheriff Whitehorse is scrawled on a plaque by the door. Dahlia knocks and he tells her to come on in, she slowly opens the door and steps in. There’s a modest sized quaint office with only a few personal touches. She’s only seen old photos Lloyd had of himself and Whitehorse, from way back in police academy. The man before her is much older than he was in those photos, weathered with wrinkled skin. He looks like an old sheriff pulled directly from a movie; green uniform, cowboy hat, scraggly brown hair, and a mustache.

“You’re Lloyd and Caroline’s Stray, right?” He says, standing up from his desk to shake her hand over it. He’s over a foot taller than her, probably close to a foot and a half. His hand swallows her own whole, it’s probably bigger than her face. 

“Holy shit, you’re tall.” 

That’s not a good way to start an interview, but he seems to be laughing and smiling. So, maybe it’s fine. Lloyd once said she has a charm about her despite her lack of tact or decorum. She’s still trying to figure out what that charm is, but still. 

“Go ahead and take a seat,” he says, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. She follows suit, leg still bouncing like it was in the waiting room. Whitehorse puts a manilla folder down on the desk, the little tab labeled D. Hale. It’s surprisingly thick for someone who’s never met her in person. 

“Lloyd and Caroline talk highly of you, hell the whole town does.” 

“The whole town…?” She raises an eyebrow, what’s that supposed to mean? Reinette, Louisiana is a small town, it’s police department has about six people in total and everyone knows everyone. But certainly, they wouldn’t call up Whitehorse to talk about her. 

“I swear Lloyd must have handed out the stations number to everyone down there, we’ve been getting two, three calls a day of people who can’t say enough good things about you.” 

“Oh god.” Heat flushes up Dahlia’s cheeks, god damn it, Lloyd. 

“You’ve left quite an impression on the place.” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Dahlia pushes some hair off her face, fidgeting with the locks.

“And you haven’t been working there long, have you?”

“Not counting training, about a year and a half, I know I don’t have much experience.” 

“Still making such an impact in a short amount of time, says something.” 

“Thanks.” His words soothe her nerves and embarrassment a bit, maybe this will go well.

“But, there’s the issue of your record…”

“My record…?” She shouldn’t have a record, he opens the manilla folder and she feels bile raise in the back of her throat. 

“Between what’s on the books and what everyone was saying, I was starting to wonder if there were two of you, Hale. Runaways, break in, fights, attempted grand theft auto, and petty thefts, the list goes on. Doesn’t exactly scream future cop.” 

“I thought records got expunged at eighteen.”

“If you request it.” 

“Oh…well then…”

“I know this all happened when you were a minor and you’ve been clear for the past two or so years, but…”

“It still looks bad, I know, I know. I’m not going to try to tell you some bullshit excuse or sob story. I did a lot of shit I shouldn’t have for a lot of reasons. I regret most of it, not all of it, but most of it. Lloyd and Caroline helped me get my life back on track, I know two years doesn’t seem like a long time, but I’m not the same kid I was when I did that shit.”

That what she tells him, but she’s not sure how much she believes it. It feels more like her situation’s changed than she’s changed, but if she just said that she’s no longer a delinquent because she doesn’t need to be, well, it wouldn’t sound as good or employable. 

“What made you wanna be a cop?”

“Wanted to help people,” she answers with a shrug, it’s not really anything more complicated than that. Whitehorse huffs out what sounds like a laugh, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Okay, I gotta ask, why here? Lloyd and the whole town loves you. It’s a hell of a move and the pay raise ain’t much.”

“Look,” she sighs and folds her hands on top of her motorcycle helmet, calming her body down, “I love Reinette, I love Lloyd and I love Caroline. I owe them and the whole town a debt that I’ll never pay back. But, I’m twenty years old. I’m not their kid and even if I was it’d be time for me to go, I’ve taken enough of their time, money, and everything. Reinette, bless the town’s heart, it’s...dying. There’s more cows than people, our station has more cars than officers. It won’t be long before they do away with the town’s department and just do everything through the Parish. And the parish’s department doesn’t need any more officers.”

Her throat constricts as bile raises in the back of it, her stomach churning. After everything that town and its people have done for her, she’s leaving them. A traitor, betrayer. 

“You figure any of those officers will even find work in the parish, at all?” He asks with a knowing, soft look in his eye. If he keeps in contact with Lloyd, he’s already well aware of the trouble in Reinette. 

“I doubt it, town’s a sinking ship. Lloyd…he’s willing to go down with it,” her eyes sting and she clenches her jaw, containing herself, “I can’t do that. As much as they all mean to me, I can’t. Lloyd’s gonna retire when it goes under, I’m twenty, the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m trying to help people; I’m trying to make a difference. But my hands keep getting tied because of money, resources, anything and everything. Lloyd and Caroline gave me the means and the tools to make something of myself, I’m not gonna piss that away because some fucker decided we weren’t worth investing in, I…”

She’s clenching her fists and nearly smacking her helmet, anger and frustration welling up inside of her, a geyser of emotions threatening to break through. This is an interview, she can’t do this, can’t be emotional. She needs to stop this, a deep breath before she starts to speak again. 

“I can do more here, I know no place is perfect, but I can do more here.” 

“Well, no one can say you’re not passionate.” Whitehorse lets out another chuckle, seemingly amused. 

“Sorry, certain shit, just winds me up.” She massages the back of her neck, why is she such a fucking idiot? No one wants to hire a cop who can’t keep their cool and throws a fit. She was supposed to tone down her dumbassery, not ramp it up. 

“There’s nothing wrong with caring about what you’re doing.”

“Yeah…” She half-heartedly agrees, Whitehorse is trying to make her feel better. Her interview has become him trying to console her, absolutely pathetic. She might as well call Lloyd and Caroline now and tell them she blew it. 

“You got any questions for me?” 

“Uh…”

Did she just fuck this up as bad as she thinks she did?

 “Not really, I just wanna get to work.” That earns her another chuckle from Whitehorse, even if he doesn’t think she’s competent, at least she’s entertaining it seems. 

“Full of piss and vinegar, ain’t ya?” 

“To say the least.” She lets out a dry laugh, but there’s no mirth of joy behind it. Not a shred of happiness as she thinks about what a fucking idiot she is. 

“Well, if that’s all,” Whitehorse stands up from his desk, “I’ll go ahead and show you out.” 

Dahlia stands up, the sheriff places a large hand on her back as they leave his office, finding their way back into the reception area. 

“It was nice to finally meet you, Hale.” 

“Same, thanks for taking the time to talk to me.” She’s sure that he’d rather be doing literally anything else, especially after that beyond trash interview. 

“It’s no problem at all, I-”

The doors to the department open, a man and a woman in green deputy uniforms coming in. Another giant, the man is barely an inch of two shorter than Whitehorse, with shaggy dark hair and hazel eyes. More importantly, the woman while taller doesn’t absolutely tower over Dahlia, her long black hair is braided over her shoulder and her olive skin makes her hunter green eyes stand out all the more. 

Dahlia’s throat feels tight and her heart race is a little faster. So…that’s a thing. 

“We running a daycare, now?” The guy asks, looking down his nose at Dahlia, though that might just be because of the height difference. Either way, she glares at him, he’s been around her a grand total of five seconds and he’s being a dick. 

“Pratt…” The woman, her name tag says J. Hudson, rolls her eyes at him. Her voice is warm and rich; why is Dahlia’s face so hot? Is she sick? Has the Montana weather already kicked her ass, what is this?

“This is one of the interviewees. Hale, these are my deputies.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Hudson flashes a soft smile and what is Dahlia’s heart doing? It’s like someone’s squeezing it and filled her gut with bugs while they were at it. She fucks up an interview and now she needs a doctor, great. 

“Same, I was, uh, just on my way out actually.” She needs to go sleep off whatever the fuck has just hit her. 

“Good luck,” the taller woman gives a friendly tap to Dahlia’s bicep, “hopefully we’ll be seeing more of you around here.” 

Dahlia is dying.

That’s the only explanation. She fucked up an interview and now she has the heart plague or some shit, hell of a day. 

“Uh, yeah, I, um, ‘preciate it.” She’s avoiding eye contact and she doesn’t know why she's stumbling over her words and she doesn’t know why.

“Pssh,” Pratt scoffs, “she’s gonna need it.” 

Suddenly, she can talk again. Weird. Hudson and Whitehorse shake their heads, clearly use to his bullshit

“Sorry about Pratt, he’s, well he’s Pratt.” 

“Eh, every station has at least one cop who’s just trying to make up for his tiny dick.” 

“I assure you, I-”

“Enough,” Whitehorse cuts him off, talking like he’s breaking up a child’s squabbling. Doesn’t really help make her look any more mature or competent, way to steer into the skid, Dahlia. 

“For the millionth time, no one wants to hear about your dick, Pratt.” Hudson rolls her eyes, why is that being said for the millionth time?

“Well, that’s certainly my cue to go, have a good one.” 

Dahlia quickly waves off the sheriff and deputies, making her escape. She takes the couple steps to her motorcycle with quick rigid movement, making sure she’s away from windows or the glass door, not wanting any of them to see her. 

She lets out a low guttural groan muffled by how tightly her jaw is clenched jaw and knocks her knuckles against the back of her head. 

Idiot, she fucked everything up by going on some huge ass fucking rant. 

Despite the distance, this was a phenomenal opportunity the best she’s had. It’s not like she hasn’t looked into place in Louisiana, but something is always wrong. She’s never made it as far as the interview. Either she never gets a call back, maybe they’d seen her records the same way Whitehorse did and didn’t even bother giving her that chance. Or she’d learn the town, parish, city, whatever was no better off than Reinette. One of the sheriffs she talked to on the phone knew her stepfather and recognized her name, nearly making her puke before she hung up. 

This was beyond a shadow of a doubt the best chance she’s had. Whitehorse has the Lloyd seal of approval which is as good as gold. And as much as the distance is guilt inducing…, the fear of betrayal and abandoning people who mean so much to her. But, she needs somewhere far away. 

As many good memories as Lloyd, Caroline, and the people of Reinette have given her. There are still too many bad ones, too many people figuring out where she came from, one too many bad memories trying to be more than just that. As much as it may eat her up to leave, it’ll eat her up even more to stay. Between the impending unemployment and her own past, every good moment there has a shadow looming over it. 

When she gets back to Reinette she’ll start working to get her record taken care of. Once that’s settled, it’s back to job hunting. A bump in the road, a moment of frustration, but she’ll come out the other end. She always does. 

Her stomach growls, burning through a pack of cigarettes and stress binge eating sound like a great way to deal with this. She’ll find some place to stuff her face and call Lloyd once she gets back to the hotel. 

There’s a general store, she doesn’t know if the bar lets minors in, so it’s probably her best place to grab some quick snack. She plops her helmet on and makes the short drive to the store, parking her bike outside and pulling her helmet back off to light a cigarette by the dumpsters. Her stressed brain is desperately craving nicotine. 

She rips open her pack of cigarettes and lights one up, bringing it to her lips. Smoke pools in her lungs, clawing to her insides and easing her nerves if only for a second. Holding it there for a moment before breathing it out into the air. Her eyes are drawn to the neon sign of The Spread Eagle bar, even bright in the daylight. It also seems to have some activity despite the early hour. Well, early for a bar. A white truck pulls up in front of the building, a man with long grungy hair climbing out of the passenger seat. 

Those odd pains in her chest and churns in her stomach fade as she inhales the smoke, looking up at the clear blue sky. A soft breeze blows through, carrying the gray trails away with it. Montana really is beautiful…

“Get back here!” A woman yells out, door to the bar swinging open violent as the man with long hair comes rushing back out, arms piled high with crates of alcohol. 

Dahlia drops her cigarette and helmet, bolting towards the bar, as the thief tries to scramble into the back of the pickup truck. He gets the crates set down, but she’s grabbed the back of his shirt before he can climb in. A harsh yank, pulling the tall man back into her and away from the truck. She encircles her arms under his armpits and locks her hands behind his neck, grappling into a full nelson hold that keeps him from running off. The odd angle of these heights and the way he was yanked from the back of the truck leaves him on his knees in his grasp. 

“Someone call the sheriff’s department!” She yells out, she doesn’t have any jurisdiction here or cuffs to actually arrest the guy. 

He tries to fight back against the hold, attempting to break free, but all he manages to do is writhe and squirm. The door of the truck swings open, the driver jumping out, his feet hitting the ground with a heavy sound. Another man easily a foot or more taller than her. 

“Help me, brother Theodore,” the man in her hold struggles to beg for help. 

“We have strict orders from John Seed to confiscate this liquor.” 

“Don’t know or care who that is, mon cher.” 

“Someone like you doesn’t deserve to know him,” the guy tells her, sneering and she sees his finger twitch, brushing over the gun in his belt holster. She can’t have firearms going off in a residential area. 

“All you’ll do is end up shootin’ your friend, don’t be stupid. Liquor ain’t worth bloodshed.” 

He lets out a sigh and his hand relax, something clicking in his mind. The man, Theodore, chews his lip, eyes flickering as she nearly sees the gears turning in his head. 

“What’s going on here?” A familiar rough voice asks over Dahlia’s shoulder, she doesn’t need to look to know Whitehorse has come to investigate. Even if she did, she wouldn’t dare look away from the man in front of her, not until she’s sure he won’t try to shoot. 

“These pieces of shit peggies were trying to steal my liquor stash,” a woman explains, somewhere behind Dahlia. 

“Liquors still in the back of the truck,” Dahlia tells them, none of it seemed to break, so hopefully it won’t hurt the bar too much. 

“If it wasn’t for her, they would have cost me a month’s worth of sales.” 

“Pratt, Hudson,” Whitehorse calls the names of his deputies. 

“I got it here,” Hudson taps on Dahlia arm, cuffs in hand, and that weird heart thing is happening again. 

“Um, yeah, o-of course.” She maneuvers away from the guy, she’s never stumbled over her words like that before. Hudson cuffs the guy and starts reading his rights off. 

“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” Pratt barks out at the Theodore guy who's surprisingly obedient as he lets the deputy cuff him. 

Dahlia scratches at her nose, watching the scene unfold. She’s finally gotten a good look at the woman who was being robbed. 

And, not only is everyone here tall, they’re also apparently beautiful. The woman is than both Dahlia and Hudson, with honey blonde hair tucked up into a bun and soft blue eyes. Her features are soft, cherubic almost, with freckles over the bridge of her nose. 

Have women always been this pretty?

When did women start being this pretty?

The fuck is her heart doing?

“Looks like it’s a good thing you were here,” Whitehorse tells her, a soft smile tugging at his lips, “you managed to get Mary May’s liquor back and stopped it from escalating.” 

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” 

“Someone you know, sheriff?” The blonde, Mary May  asks. His smile gets wider and he squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, a comforting touch. 

“This is my new Junior Deputy.” 

“I am?” 

He’s not serious, there’s no way, he has to be fucking with her. 

“Unless you changed your mind?” 

“Hell no,” she shakes her head, “I am the new Junior Deputy, wait, Junior?”

“You’ll start with a six-month probationary hire, paid of course, manage that and we’ll take you on permanently.”��

“Sounds good to me.” 

“You’ll start next, c’mon down to the station Mary, we’ll book ‘em and get your report in.” 

“See you around, stranger,” Mary May tells her as she follows after Whitehorse, Hudson and Pratt forcing the thieves along. Theodore shooting a glare Dahlia’s way. 

“Look forward to working with you, Rookie.” 

“Pfft, I give her a week, tops.” 

And with that, Dahlia is left alone on the road of Falls End…with a new job. 

She got the job. 

She’s got to get through the probationary hire, but she got the job. Holy shit. Holy shit. And she starts in a week. She needs to call Lloyd and Caroline, she needs to find somewhere to live, there’s so much to do. 

Dahlia is practically skipping back over to her helmet and bike. She’s gotta start getting her ducks in a row. 

She speeds her way back through Hope County, making her way back to the hotel. She has so many fucking calls to make and shit to go through. Before she knows it she’s back in the Kings Spring Hotel parking lot, fumbling to get her phone. As silly as it may be, she’d rather call Lloyd and Caroline in a less populated area. She’s grinning ear to ear, enough to hurt her cheeks, she looks like a dork and that’s not going to get any better. Helmet under her arm, she dials Lloyd as she paces in the isolated parking lot. 

“How’d it go?” Lloyd is asking before she even says hi. 

“Six months, probationary hire, then we’ll go from there.” 

‘So, you got the job?” 

“That was the bummer way of saying I got the job, yeah.” 

“I can hear you smiling!” 

“Shut it!” 

“Caroline! She got the job, yeah!” 

“I,” she rubs a hand down her face, “I thought for sure I blew it.” 

“What changed?” 

“Some bar across the street got robbed right after my interview, I stepped in, next thing I know I’m the Junior Deputy.”

“Holy fuck, do you know what that is, Stray?” 

“Dumb luck?” 

“Fate, Stray, it’s fucking fate! The world telling you that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be!” 

“You really are a sap, ain’t ya?” 

“What are you doing now?” 

“I’m staying another night here, but once I hop off I gotta start looking into where I’m gonna stay. I start in a week, so I gotta start moving, I’ll see you all in two or three days once I make the drive. It’s gonna be tight, but I’ll manage.” 

“Man, you’re really leaving.” 

“No crying.” 

“Seems like yesterday Caroline found you in the barn.” 

“No crying.” 

“You were so thin, just a little bag of bones…” His voice is choking up.

“I’m hanging up, you cry baby!” 

She does just that, smiling up at the sky. It’s happening, it’s really happening. It feels like the start of a new life, a new her. There’s a jump in her step as she makes her way back into the hotel, room service food and she’ll start making phone calls. 

“Miss Hale!” The soft lilted voice of the receptionist calls out when she sees Dahlia. 

“Oh, hey.” Dahlia walks to the desk, head tilted in question, what could she need?

“A heads up, we’re switching the water in the tank for the shower and bath system to water pumped in from the spring.” 

“Oh, that’s cool.” 

“It’s so much more relaxing than regular tap water, be sure to use it tonight.” 

“Uh yeah, thanks, by the way can I order some room service?” 

“Of course.” 

Dahlia goes through her order for room service, being assured the order will be put in and delivered before she knows it. With that she goes back up to her room, she starts digging through the bedside drawer, searching for a phone book for the area. There’s a white book in the top drawer, with that same strange cross like symbol that was on the signs along the bridge. She throws it on the bed, finding a local phone book beneath it, much more important. 

She starts rifling through pages. Hope County is mostly a trailer park town, for people who can’t afford to build or buy an actual home and land. There is an apartment complex in Falls End, but the rent is high for pretty small apartments. The prices probably jacked since housing is so limited. She’d rather get a whole trailer to herself for cheaper and just travel further for work. 

Hours pass by her making phone calls, seeing about housing and stuffing food in her face when she’s not talking. The Silver Lake Trailer Park that’s nearest the station has no vacancy or trailers available for rent, but they refer her to the Moonflower Trailer Park. It’s some distance, but with how fast she rides her bike, it’s doable. It’s the only place with vacancy, she’ll drop by with a down payment and check out the trailer tomorrow before she heads back to Louisiana to get her stuff and everything tidied up there. The world outside the hotel window has gone dark, moon hanging bright in the sky. 

That settled she finishes off her food and collapses back on the bed. She’s still smiling, grinning ear to ear.

“Wooooooo!” She yells out and pumps her fist up at the ceiling, fuck yeah, she’s got this. 

She’ll grab one of those spring water showers and then pass out for the night. She grabs her phone and sets it up to play music in the bathroom while she washes up. Her clothes hit the floor, air conditioner chilling her skin as she waits for the water to heat up. It has a soft floral scent and is tinted slightly green, spring water. 

She steps in under the hot spray of water, letting it wash away the sweat and dirt of the day. Her muscles relax under the water and steam, as she scrubs the hotel soap into her skin. She blinks her eyes open once she’s done washing her hair, finding her vision clouding, her body feeling heavier and heavier. Must be the exhaustion of the day. Dahlia quickly finishes washing, the last thing she needs is to fall asleep in the shower again. 

Her steps are shaky, her body swaying as the world swims around her. Colors distort and shift in prisms before her eyes. It’s like the night before, but times a million. Her movements sluggish as she dries herself and quickly pulls on her sleep clothes. She was feeling ill earlier, maybe it’s catching up to her? But it doesn’t feel the same. Not panicky and nervous. One of her favorite songs starts to play through her phone, though its eerie tones aren’t as welcomed in this moment. 

She grips the sink for leverage, steadying herself as she looks into the mirror

All our times have come.

Her dark brown eyes aren’t dark brown, not quite. She tugs at her eyelids, the iris growing milkier and lighter than she’s ever seen it. What the hell is this? A soft melodic laugh echoes through the room, like it’s near. 

Here but now they're gone.

She stumbles out of the bathroom, finding her empty bedroom. Nothing unusual. 

Seasons don't fear the reaper.

The laugh rings out again, a flash of white passing by her open door. When did it open? She didn’t leave it open. 

Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain...

She’s walking out her door before she can give it another thought, looking back and forth across the hall, who’s there? 

We can be like they are

Her feet pad down the hallway, steps suddenly sure and confident as she tries to follow the voice. Like her body is being drawn, pulled, following sheer instinct. She needs to find them. 

Come on baby... don't fear the reaper

A flash of white, the swish of lace fabric, that laugh again vanishing into one of the rooms. Dahlia is there, trying to wrench open the door. Then it rings out from behind her. 

Baby take my hand... don't fear the reaper

A woman stands at the end of a long hallway, the one from the tight before. Long sandy hair and beautiful green eyes. A blue butterfly perches itself on her fingers, the woman looking at it in awe. Dahlia takes slow steps forward, she wants to speak, ask who she is and what she’s doing here. But her tongue is heavy, her throat tight, vocal cords numb, not a sound escaping. 

Baby I'm your man...

Green eyes flicker from the butterfly to Dahlia, a soft almost mischievous smile tugging at the woman’s lips. She laughs again as Dahlia nears her, then she runs, childish and giggling she runs towards one of the rooms. Dahlia is chasing her even after she vanishes from sight, legs moving without her permission, instinct driving her to reach this woman. She doesn’t know why, but she needs to reach her, touch her. Be closer. 

La la la la la

La la la la la

The laughter turns into soft humming, singing echoing through the halls. Somehow the sound is everywhere, all consuming and right in her ear, but also distant the source too far away for her to find. She walks down the halls, taking turns and climbing up stairs, following her instinct that pulls her in each direction she goes. 

Valentine is done

Flashes of white fabric, doors closing and shutting. It’s a game of tag that she can’t seem to win, the small hotel has somehow become a labyrinth as she tries to find the humming woman. Short hallways and few rooms have been traded for never ending paths with room lining them. 

Here but now they're gone

Sometimes spacious and open, other times claustrophobic, choking, walls scraping the skin of her arms where she has to fear she might become stuck. More halls and more floors than she’s ever seen, winding paths that make her dizzy. But she can’t stop searching for that woman. 

Romeo and Juliet

One more turn, the woman is at the end of a hallway. Standing before a door, softly singing to what is now two butterflies balanced on her fingers. Dahlia starts to walk down the hallway, tight, claustrophobic. She keeps her hands on the walls as if it will give her more space, as if she could force the walls to open wider for her. 

Are together in eternity...Romeo and Juliet

Her heartbeat races as she walks closer and closer, the walls threatening to crush her between them. She can hardly breathe, every breath ragged and tight. Dying. She feels like she’s dying, air being stolen from her lungs and heart pounding lie it’s trying to escape her chest. It worsens with every step she takes near the woman. 

40,000 men and women everyday... Like Romeo and Juliet

Some part of her brain, the small part that doesn’t have a thick haze of fog clinging to it, tells her to run the other way. That with this feeling only growing with every step towards the siren, with her heart pounding harsher, breathing getting raspier, she’ll die if she keeps going. That this truly is a siren luring her to death, but she can’t listen to that part of her. Her body won’t. She needs to reach her. 

40,000 men and women everyday... Redefine happiness

She’s getting closer and closer; the woman isn’t running this time. Just calming singly, like she doesn’t even notice Dahlia. She tries to reach out for the woman, her fingers nearly brushing the woman’s dress sleeve. 

Another 40,000 coming everyday... We can be like they are

Then the woman walks through the door, Dahlia could curse and cry if her vocal cords would only work. Once again, the woman evading her, being just out of reach. But this hall has no doors along its sides, no turns or twists. The only two options are going back or going through the door after her. It’s not even a choice. 

Come on baby... don't fear the reaper

She wrenches the door open and she’s in another world. No more wood walls and floors, her bare feet touching lush grass that tickles her skin. White petals float in the air and scatter across the ground. Trees curl around the area and when she looks out at the horizon, she sees that large statue of that man looming over the area. 

Baby take my hand... don't fear the reaper

When she looks straight ahead at the middle of the field is the woman, she twirls, short white dress fanning out around her hips. She stops, turning to face Dahlia, she smiles softly. Delicate and angel like, she stretches her hand out. An offer, a beckoning. 

We'll be able to fly... don't fear the reaper

The feeling of impending death lifts the very moment she sees the woman. Her heartbeat and her breathing easing, relief and contentment filling her body. She’s smiling and she doesn’t know why she feels alive. Free, like she can do anything. She’s walking closer and closer to the woman, each step making her happier and happier. Her body lighter and lighter. Calm and peace, she’s never known. She’s right where she belongs, she doesn’t need to be anywhere else. 

Dahlia reaches out, finally about to touch her, a touch of their hands is so simple, so minor. But it feels like the only thing she wants. All she’s ever want, like every moment in her entire life has been building up to this, being here with her, whoever she is. 

Before skin can meet skin, the siren fades to mist. 

No, no, no!

She grasps desperately at the air where the woman once was, her heart racing, her lungs stinging like the airs been knocked out of them. The world is crumbling, falling down, everything going out beneath her feet. It’s falling apart and she can’t stop it, she can’t fix it. 

Dahlia takes a heavy gasp, desperately sucking in a heavy breath and she blinks, the world around her has completely shifted. Her vision isn’t blurred, no more prisms of color before her eyes. 

Cold, goosebumps raising up on her skin, shorts and tee doing nothing to save her from the Montana breeze. She’s outside the hotel, in the world she knows. That damn statue looming still in the distance ahead of her. 

Dull. 

The landscaped she was so mesmerized by this day, seems so dull now. She feels dull, after so many emotions, so much intensity both in fear and happiness…she feels so numb. Dahlia rubs her fingers together, her craving for the feeling of another’s hand in her own…there’s an ache. She was so close, but now she’s been plunged back into reality. 

She stands out in the field outside the hotel, staring at that cement statue, it still seems to call her. Her heart telling her to go towards that looming structure, but her head tells her to go back inside the hotel. 

So, she doesn’t move. 

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, just staring. 

“Miss Hale!” A voice pulls her further back into reality, the hotel receptionist walking out towards her with a large blanket. 

Dahlia blinks a few times, she no longer feels numb, the very real emotion of shame flooding in. She’s standing out in public, in her pajamas. Did she just wander out of her hotel room in her sleep clothes? She must look ridiculous. 

“Hey…”

“Is everything alright? You just walked out of your hotel, looked like you were sleepwalking.” 

“Uh…yeah, I guess.” 

That makes sense, she must have went to bed and had a weird dream…yeah. 

“Here,” the woman wraps the large blanket around Dahlia, “you must be freezing.” 

“Thanks, sorry, I, just, weird dream.” She murmurs as they walk back to the hotel, Dahlia giving one last glance at the hotel.

“Dreams are nice, aren’t they? Sometimes you just wanna stay there forever.” 

[igrublocal]

The Takeout’s fantasy food draft: Best pumpkin spice items

Takeout DraftTakeout DraftFood. Fantasy sports. Debating over Slack. Welcome to The Takeout Draft.

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Every week, we will select a topic of conversation from the food and drink world. Takeout writers will then field a team via the snake draft format. After five rounds, The Takeout commenteriat will vote on who they believe was victorious in that week’s draft. At the end of 2020, the staffer with the most weekly victories will select a charity of his/her choice that The Takeout will make a donation toward. (The 2019 victor, Kate Bernot, selected the U.S. Bartenders’ Guild National Charity Foundation.)

The previous  drew many passionate voters who were more than ready to reminisce about summers past. After a tight race throughout the first day of votes, Aimee Levitt pulled ahead and scored a well-earned victory with expert picks like garlic fries and lemon slushie (as well as an unexpected swerve toward lobster rolls in the final round). Congrats, Aimee!

This week’s draft is nothing if not seasonal, and it’s equally likely to delight and disgust you: Best pumpkin spice items. Is this a joke? Maybe. Are we about to take our Draft duties very, very seriously? Absolutely.

G/O Media may get a commission

Now let’s cozy up to fall’s coziest flavor.

Marnie: Okay, let’s kick it off with the acknowledgment that Aimee winning the Best Ballpark Food draft is appropriate, since she’s the biggest (only?) baseball fan of the three of us.

Allison: Everybody loves hot dogs.

Marnie: And garlic fries. This Draft will be tough to win people over with. But Allison’s got first crack at it.

Allison: Wait... I have the first pick? I can’t remember the last time this happened! I’m so overwhelmed!

Marnie: Use it wisely

Allison: Alright, so obviously my first pick has to be the iconic pumpkin spice latte. It’s the crossover item that made us a pumpkin-crazy nation.

Marnie: OF COURSE

Allison: Once upon a time, back in the Dark Ages, coffee and pie were two entirely separate things. No one had dreamed they could be together in one cup.

It changed the way we see everything. There would be no Cronut without pumpkin spice lattes. No sushi burritos. Why have one when you can have both?

Marnie: Do you think its popularity is deserved?

Allison: I am a devoted black coffee drinker, and I still get a PSL whenever the first crisp day of fall arrives, and one on Thanksgiving morning.

Allison: I don’t know how anyone could drink them regularly, but they’re a nice treat. And, nowadays, a good reason to get out of the house.

Going out to get a PSL is not an errand. It’s an event.

You need a special outfit that includes a soft sweater, and maybe a scarf. You need to inform everyone you know on social media before, during, and after.

Marnie: That would have been my first pick too. So now I’m in a lurch. But I’ll say Pumpkin Spice Tea. Because we always talk about how it’s really just spices like clove and nutmeg and cinnamon, and those are nice in a warm drink beyond coffee.

This photo of a cheese-stuffed pumpkin in Always Add Lemon is enough to make you kick yourself for…

Allison: You know, I don’t know if I’ve ever tried this. How does it differ from chai?

Marnie: It’s probably just like any number of other warm spiced teas, just with pumpkiny marketing. But Trader Joe’s “Pumpkin Spice Rooibos” tin is adorable, dammit!

Aimee: Of course it is.

Marnie: I fall for it every time. And it’s not as sweet as a PSL.

Aimee: Well, few things are. But maybe if you dumped in a few tablespoons of sugar?

Allison: Or actual pumpkin...

Aimee: That would spoil it! It’s about the SPICE!

Allison: What about blending pumpkin with maple syrup, and putting a spoonful of that in your tea?

Aimee: Huh. That could either be really good or amazingly terrible.

Marnie: TBD.... First pick, Aimee?

Aimee: Pumpkin bread!

Marnie: Oh damn, of course

Allison: There has never been a day where a pumpkin bread has been in front of me and I didn’t eat the whole thing.

Aimee: I especially love the recipe in Joy of Cooking. It’s sweet and spicy and perfect.

Marnie: The “spicy” makes all the difference. I think it should make your nose wrinkle a little.

Aimee: But I also love the pumpkin challah in . I made a couple last week and they make the best French toast.

Allison: I used to make a pumpkin brioche and use it to make bread pudding. It was pretty damn amazing.

Marnie: You were born for this draft

Aimee: I was actually torn between waffles and pancakes, but I love waffles more, so that’s what I’m going with.

Allison: I have not had these either, and am wondering how these particular waffles have been pumpkin spiced.

Is there pumpkin in the batter? Poured on top?

Aimee: In the batter, and mixed with the ginger, cinnamon, and cloves.

Marnie: Does it need cream cheese drizzle on top to really sing?

Aimee: Oooooh, yes, that’s genius!

Allison: I’m thinking of the recipe I did last year for butternut squash pavlova, but making the topping with pumpkin and putting it on a stack of Belgian waffles.

Marnie: Aimee’s double whammy of delicious pumpkin spice carbs has me reeling. How can my second pick compete?

Aimee: I believe in you!

Marnie: I will say pumpkin spice Cheerios. Getting to drink pumpkin spice cereal milk is a lovely way to start the day.

And it’s a nice contrast with all the hot pumpkin spice stuff we usually eat and drink

Allison: Oh GODDAMNIT that was my pick!

Marnie: HA!

Allison: I was apprehensive about buying that, but I had to because of the pumpkin spice bet I have with my husband. When we tried them, the Cheerios made the milk taste like pumpkin pie custard.

Allison: We bought like 20 boxes so we could enjoy them all winter. It was a fine decision.

Marnie: Allison, what’ll you choose now that I’ve swooped into the cereal space?

Allison: I’m going to take pumpkin spice ice cream, much for the reason you picked the Cheerios—it’s a nice cold option, in contrast to the PSL and so many other pumpkin spice’d foods.

Aimee: With caramel sauce and lots of whipped cream! Maybe pecans?

Marnie: Ooo, any particular brand?

Allison: Remember those Talenti layer things I love? They’ve got a pumpkin pie one now with pie crust and stuff.

Marnie: DAMN I want to try that

Allison: What’s also nice: we’re all so ready for fall the second Labor Day is over, but it’s still hot. And even though it’s hot, I’m STILL wearing a cute jacket outside, out of principle.

Marnie: True. We need pumpkiny items for the last legs of summer

Aimee: With the hot sun of summer but the cool breeze of fall...

Allison: I anticipate eating a LOT of ice cream over the next five weeks or so.

Next up: pumpkin pie toaster strudel. You can debate the need for pumpkin spice-anything all you want, but when you see pumpkin toaster strudel, it’s like “this makes perfect sense”

There’s nothing to quibble about. It’s a thing, and it should be a thing.

Aimee: This is true. It’s like a pie.

Allison: If anything, the pumpkin spice latte walked so that pumpkin spice toaster strudel could run.

Aimee: That’s beautiful. Brought a tear to my eye. (Pumpkin spiced tear, of course.)

Marnie: Only major downside of toaster strudel is that you absolutely have to warm it, whereas a Pop-Tart is flexible and can be eaten room temp. But a warm toaster strudel really is amazing

Allison: What I don’t like about pumpkin Pop Tarts is that they should be better. It’s like, if Pop Tarts respected us, it could be amazing. But they don’t. They phone it in.

Aimee: I feel that way about most Pop Tarts.

Marnie: Okay, my third pick might be....controversial. But hear me out: pumpkin pie

Aimee: Ha ha!

Marnie: The original pumpkin spice item

Aimee: It’s true! It’s so obvious, no one even thinks of it anymore. Someone should call it pumpkin spice pie.

Allison: Pumpkin pie is one of my favorite “bed pies.” Have I told you about that concept?

Marnie: Sounds self-explanatory

Allison: I wrote about it a few years ago. It’s essentially a family bonding experience where we all stay in bed and eat an entire pie together from the pan while watching old cartoons, like Garfield’s Halloween and Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. Pumpkin is ideal for this.

Allison: The filling isn’t going to plop out all over the sheets. And the crust isn’t ultra crumbly

Aimee: Ah, yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have bits of fruit falling all over the sheets.

Allison: If made well, you can pick up a slice of pumpkin pie and eat it with your hands. Just like pizza (non-folded, of course). I very much encourage both of you to try this.

Aimee: And you can squirt the whipped cream directly into your mouth. No mess!

Allison: You understand me, Levitt!

Marnie: AIMEE

Aimee: Rolled in lots of cinnamon sugar.

Marnie: STOP TAKING THE GOOD THINGS WHILE I FAIL TO THINK OF THEM

THAT’S....CHEATING, SOMEHOW

Allison: I have not had a good doughnut in a while, and now it’s all I can think about.

Marnie: So just to be clear, we’re not talking about a filled doughnut

More like a cider doughnut, but pumpkinified?

Aimee: Well, I suppose you could... but yes, I was thinking of the cakey doughnuts. I love cider doughnuts so much.

Marnie: Yes please

Aimee: Oh, yes. With a variation for the stove!

Allison: Here’s your variation for the stove: fry it in hot oil just like any other doughnut. There ya go.

Aimee: My next pick is pumpkin spice oatmeal. With lots of brown sugar.

Marnie: Interesting—does it come in that flavor or do you add the spices to make it that way?

Aimee: Quaker does make that flavor, but I’ll bet you could just add the pumpkin spice if you want to do homemade.

My philosophy is that anything that tastes good with cinnamon would also taste good with pumpkin spice.

Marnie: Yes, I can’t imagine anyone being all in on cinnamon but out on nutmeg. Cloves? Mayyyyybe divisive. But it all seems to speak to the same palate

Aimee: Warming spices!

Allison: And it’s coldest in the morning! This is science.

Marnie: How does the pumpkin factor in if you make it yourself? Pumpkin puree right in there with the oats?

Aimee: The beauty of pumpkin spice is that there doesn’t have to be pumpkin. Only spice: the blend of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, and cloves.

Allison: Yup! You can just stir it right in, with a bit of spice, and maybe some maple syrup to sweeten.

Marnie: I’m going to try to court the CPG crowd with a busy, on-the-go pumpkin spice item: the Spiced Pumpkin Pie CLIF Bar

Allison: Never eaten this! I had a Clif bar once in the early 2000s, and that was the end of that.

Marnie: Yeah, you either love them or hate them. I love that they actually feel substantial, like you just had breakfast. Regular granola bars never make me feel that way. And the Pumpkin Pie CLIF Bar comes with a drizzle of icing that, in my opinion, could stand to be paired with a lot more pumpkin spice items.

Pairs great with coffee! People are going to hate me for this but it’s my truth!

Aimee: That’s fine. You have every right to it.

Marnie: Aimee, do you have a firm stance on CLIF bars?

Aimee: I do not because I’ve never had one.

Marnie: I somehow think you’d despise them.

Aimee: I think so, too, which is why I’ve never had one.

Marnie: Last two picks, Allison!

Allison: Alright — my fourth pick is pumpkin butter. What makes this so great is it has the power to make anything into pumpkin spice.

Marnie: Here’s my question with pumpkin butter: what does it work best on? I can never figure out what to apply it to

Allison: You can stir a spoonful into your oatmeal, or put it on ice cream, or into your coffee or tea. Literally anything.

Warm milk! Pancakes! Toast!

Serve it with pork chops, smear it on cookies or graham crackers.

Marnie: Has an application ever failed spectacularly??

Aimee: This is like the shrimp scene in Forrest Gump.

Allison: ^^^and shrimp is a bad place to use apple butter.

But if you don’t know how to restrain yourself when feeding yourself pumpkin butter you should just stop cooking. Let other people do it for you. You can’t be trusted.

Allison: Very! I shared my super-easy apple butter recipe here last fall. You can do that with cubed pumpkin, or canned. As always, just keep an eye on things, because it’s all visual cues on that one. The line between apples and pumpkins in fall desserts is very thin.

I don’t believe that apple butter needs to be a fussy, complicated thing to make. You shouldn’t…

Marnie: That’s a good utility pick and I feel like the voters will reward you for it.

Unless you mess it all up on the last pick.....

Allison: Don’t think I am, because I’m reaching into my personal back catalog again and going with . You know me and pudding.

Marnie: Picking your OWN RECIPE on the final round is A POWER MOVE

Allison: Damn straight it is.

Marnie: I begrudgingly respect this decision

Please tell us what makes it a worthy pick, for those of us who haven’t tasted its majesty yet

Allison: Pumpkin pudding is much creamier and luxurious than pie! And easier to make, in a way. You don’t need to fuss with the oven, and don’t need to worry about making a pie crust. I make a pie crust better than anyone, and honestly do enjoy the process, but it adds a good amount of time to the process.

Sometimes you’re okay with waiting a few hours for pie. And sometimes you’re like “I want pumpkin something within the hour,” and this is what can get you there.

Marnie: A shortcut to immediate pumpkin spice intake is key

Allison: Exactly. There’s a ton of variables I consider when coming up with recipes.

One of them being “how long do I have to wait before I eat this dessert”

Aimee: That’s always an important one.

Marnie: Sometimes you don’t need to consider cook time at all. Because sometimes the thing you want is not edible in the least. Folks, my last pick is a pumpkin spice candle. To make EVERY room in the house smell delicious, not just the kitchen!

Aimee: Ha ha!

Marnie: It is a far-reaching, long-lasting pumpkin spice item. Perhaps the most cost-effective, too.

Aimee: AND if you don’t like pumpkin, it’s still mostly a pleasurable experience.

Marnie: A signal of the changing seasons! Coziness incarnate. People of all palates can agree on smells, can’t they?

Allison: I believe I have at least ten of these in my house right now.

Even if it’s not fall outside, it can be fall inside, whenever you damn well please. You guys need to try lighting up one of those bad boys in April and see how that changes you.

Aimee: As long as they’re not those cinnamon brooms. I don’t know why, but they annoy the crap out of me.

Allison: What are these cinnamon brooms? Another midwest thing?

Aimee: They sell them at Trader Joe’s. They’re in the front where you first walk in, with the pumpkins and the plants, so you can’t avoid them.

Marnie: They look sort of sinister

Aimee: Exactly. They’d be good for witches, but they smell like cinnamon which is somehow not exactly witchy.

Anyway, last pick goes to Aimee! What’s it gonna be?

Aimee: My last pick is... pumpkin spice cotton candy. Mostly because I would really like to find out if you can taste the spices.

Marnie: Does.....does it exist outside of your mind?

This is the first time I’ve really thought about cotton candy having a flavor. Isn’t it usually just sugar, in technicolor?

Allison: I do not like cotton candy, and yet I want to try this.

Aimee: Once I tried a rosé cotton candy and it tasted like rosé if you did the taste equivalent of squinting.

These people are geniuses!

Marnie: I’m excited to let this Takeout Draft loose upon the world.

Aimee: Because no one is tired of pumpkin spice yet!

Who won this week’s Takeout Draft? Vote in the comments.

[apprenticegamemaster]

*leans in with extendable ears* You had something to say about Anne McCaffrey forgetting about corn?

So my favorite book in the Pern series is Dragonsdawn- more specifically, the first 2/3 of it. Love me some good worldbuilding stuffs. The thing is, Dragonsdawn is also one of the better novels to show McCaffery’s limitations as a writer, and one of the ones that sticks out to me the most is that as far as I can tell, Pern has no corn.

There’s a LOT that could be said about how poorly thought out the whole colonizing force was (only a few thousand people to colonize a whole planet? Were they expecting more ships to come in at some point or something??), but in particular, they don’t seem to have actually brought that large of a variety of Earth plants with them for growing. There’s literally thousands of different things grown as crops worldwide, but the Pern expedition only seems to have brought maybe one or two types of the more popular food crops. 

Cinnamon in particular comes to mind- there’s a number of different plants whose dried bark is called by that name, and there’s a HUGE variety of spices that are in the same ballpark. Yet Sorka mentions at some point in the book (in reference to Duke the fire lizard/dragonet, iirc) that Cinnamon would “soon be a memory if the agronomists didn’t have more luck” or something like that. Sure, some of that could be cut down to basically none of the main characters having much to do with farming (another victim of McCaffery being a Horse Girl, probably), but what I’m getting from it is that either Pern had some pretty incompetent farmers or they didn’t bring anywhere NEAR enough supplies to cover every contingency. Probably a mix of both plus some bad writing, to be honest. 

Let’s bring this back to corn. Corn is a Very Good Crop. You have to treat it if you want to get all the proper nutrients from it, but this is the future so I’ll pretend that they’ve genegeneered some kind of supercorn that doesn’t have that issue. Corn is such a Very Good Crop, in fact, that one decent-sized field of it can make enough cornmeal to feed a large family for a whole winter. Compare this to most other grains, which need acres upon acres to make an equivalent amount of flour. There’s a reason why you had cornbread if you were poor and biscuits if you were rich in the American South, and it ain’t got much to do with taste. 

YET. From everything I can tell, McCaffery NEVER ONCE MENTIONS CORN. I believe rice was mentioned (in the context that the colonizing force hadn’t found land suitable to growing it yet), and fields of crops in general are pretty common even in later books, but not ONCE can I remember corn or any derivative of corn being used. ALL of it- other than a handful of Pernese native foods and the aforementioned rice- is the kind of stock you’d generally see grown in Europe. She’s treating Pern as a sort of Fantasy Europe 2.0 with a thin veneer of scifi.

So this is basically yet another case where McCaffery didn’t bother to actually put in the effort to make her novels realistic or use the full potential of worldbuilding, and I AM THE SALT. 

[thedarksideofriverdale]

So the story plot can be something along the lines of your Reggie's sitter and your not to fond of Kurtz but you end up getting trapped in a room with him and things get really steamy.

Wow, I haven’t written smut since I was 13 so let’s see how this goes. Always willing to trying things once lol. Also, since Y/N is Reggie’s sitter, I’m going to be making her to be in her 20s as well as with Kurtz.

SMUT ALERT

The vibrations of the plastic seat on the subway made you acutely aware of the fact that you were very much leaving the suburbia that was the town of Riverdale to a slightly richer, more New York kind of town. All of this to babysit a highschooler. It was summer break, and Reggie Mantle’s parents went to their summer home for some de-stressing. Little did they know that Reggie’s plane ticket to South Korea was for the wrong month, and his plans to see his grandmother were now delayed. It didn’t bother you to hop off to a new town to babysit someone; you were a freelance writer, so you weren’t expected anywhere. But, you dreaded to deal with a sixteen year-old short fuse, forced to live with his parents for a month longer than intended.

The train doors opened, and the flux of people in and out began. You watched in wonder, rapid movement of people being a new sight for you. Rolling up the your sweater sleeves, you check your watch. 8 AM, another ten minutes until your stop. When the train stopped, you were the only person to step off, onlookers gazing at you, wondering if you were one of the rich ones. You shrug it off and exit the platform. Letting the GPS guide you, you came upon the large apartment complex. The lobbyist buzzed you in, and you made your way to the penthouse. When the elevator doors dinged to open, you exited to find yourself face-to-face with Reggie. “Wow Reggie. Your parents get richer?”

Reggie rolled his eyes and replied, “Not rich enough to get me a new plane ticket. Instead, I’m stuck here with you.” He crossed his arms and pouted.

“Oh, no offense taken. I love babysitting you.” You smirked and headed over to the couch to set your bag down. “Your parents already leave?”

“Yeah. They left about five minutes before you arrived, so not too long.”

“Alright, well, you’re 17. Go do what you want; just don’t leave the place.” 

“Ugh fine. I’ll be in my room.”

“I’ll make lunch around 12!” 

You sat down on the couch and took out your laptop. Maybe a new town will get the creative juices flowing… at least that’s what you’d like to think. Before you could think, however, the buzzer alerted you of a visitor. The lobbyist’s voice came through, saying, “Hello miss. There is a visitor for the young Mr. Mantle. A man by the name of Kurtz. Shall I send him up?”

Kurtz? Riverdale gargoyle junkie Kurtz? “Um…” What the hell is Reggie doing with him? “Give me a moment. Let me go ask Reggie.” You ran down the hallway and knocked on a door with various stickers, indicating a teen lived there. “Reggie, there’s a guy named Kurtz here to see you.” The door cracked open a little. “Would you like to explain yourself?”

Reggie sighed and said, “Just send him up. I’ll explain later.” You looked at him skeptically, but conceded. Tapping your foot against the marble floor, you waited anxiously for the man to come up. The ding put it more on edge as a mop of ash brown hair and dark under eye circles came into full view. 

“Whatever you have going on with Reggie, finish it quickly. He’s not allowed strange visitors,” you stated. Kurtz said nothing and brushed passed you, walking to Reggie’s room. Reggie stepped out and greeted, “Hey man, how’s it goin’?”

“Cut the small talk, Mantle. You know why I’m here,” Kurtz snapped. He brought his backpack to the front of him and pulled out a red box. “Latest shipment. I’m charging you extra for transportation.”

“Oh man, you’re the best. The guys tonight will love this.”

“Tonight?” you questioned, looking at Reggie with stern eyes. “What’s tonight? Because I thought you would be here, watching a movie with me, as your parents requested.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Y/N. I promise I won’t get into trouble.” Kurtz smirked at Reggie’s response, which made you angrier. 

“Absolutely not. Kurtz, you may leave.”

“Not until I get my cash.” Kurtz folded his arms across his chest. “Where is it?”

Reggie flitted his eyes back and forth for a little and then said, “My wallet’s in the guest room. Hid it from the cleaning staff. Come on.” Reggie started walking down the hallway to his left while Kurtz followed. You, not wanting them out of your sight, decided to go with them as well. When you reached the room, Kurtz was leaning against the doorframe. Reggie was opening up drawers all of the place, and Kurtz was getting exasperated. “Dude, I don’t know where my wallet went. I swear, if I lost it. Lemme just get cash from my parents’ room. Hold on.” Reggie exited the room, moving past you. You walked into the room with Kurtz, looking around at the pale blue walls and soft curtains. 

“How do you know the kid?” you asked, sitting down on the bed. “Didn’t think you associated yourself with the rich folk, considering all the shit that went down between you and the Lodge family a couple of years back.”

“Yeah well, the big apple was a different ballpark. I moved to Riverdale for that reason. I go where business suits me,” Kurtz replied, leaning against the bed frame.

“You mean drugs? I know about the fizzle rocks you’ve been selling. Stop corrupting the kid; it’s bad enough he’s got absentee parents.”

“Forgive me for not feeling bad for a rich kid’s plight. I’m gonna go see where the little twerp went.” Before he could reach the door, it slammed shut. You looked at it in surprise and widened your eyes further when Kurtz couldn’t open the door. “It’s locked! I swear to fucking god, I’m gonna murder that kid!”

You went to the door and said calmly, “Reggie, let us out. You’re not gonna gain anything out of this.”

A loud voice from behind the door said, “I just wanna chill with my boys. I’ll be back before midnight. There’s a mini fridge in there and an attached bathroom. Bye!”

You turned away from the door and let out an “ugh” before sitting down on the bed. Kurtz kicked the door in anger and sat down on the floor. “What the hell are we supposed to do for more than twelve hours?! I’ve got places to be-”

“Drugs to sell.”

“Shut up. Don’t act uppity with me. I’m not one of the kids you babysit, alright?”

// 4 hours later

“My phone’s running out of charge,” you stated, exasperated.

“Sounds like a you problem,” Kurtz deadpanned. You glared at him from your laying position on the bed. Turning slightly, you set your phone down on the nightstand and look up at the ceiling. A few minutes later, Kurtz said, “I’m bored,” which made you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t you have a phone?” you asked with a dead voice.

“A burner phone. Not a smartphone like you rich idiots.”

You sat up from the bed and glared at him once more. “Stop being so bitter. Just because we don’t have to sell drugs on the street doesn’t mean we haven’t faced tough shit in life. Stop projecting your anger on people when it’s for capitalism. You’re such a dumbass.”

Kurtz furrowed his brows in anger. “Like I’d listen to you. Graduated highschool with the dream of being a hotshot author in two years and look at what you’re doing now? Babysitting highschoolers. Really, who’s the dumbass? A person with an actual business or a person too busy chasing clouds to have money.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You stood up, seething. Kurtz looked up at you and smirked. He was relishing in the fact that you were riled up.

“Make me.”

“Ugh!” You grabbed him and yanked him up from the floor. Knocking him backwards against the dresser, you wanted to beat the living daylights out of him. But, he was much stronger than you and pushed you towards the bed. You fell down hard on the mattress, and Kurtz pinned you underneath him. 

Leaning down next to you ear, Kurtz whispered, “Guess you failed at shutting me up.” Before you could reply, he pushed his lips against yours. You struggled against it, opening your mouth slightly, which allowed him to push his tongue through. And�� you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t deny the fact that the man was beautiful under the whole rugged appearance, and you had a massive crush on him back in highschool. Years apart never took away the attraction you had for him.

Kurtz stopped the kiss, panting heavily above you. His face was flushed, and the cockiness from before disappeared. “Sorry,” he said quietly, beginning to move away. But, you stopped him by grabbed his arms. “Don’t be,” you said as softly. He looked at you for a moment, and you smirked. “Let’s say we kill the time a little.” In response, his eyes got darker as he leaned in to capture your lips once more. This time, you wrapped your legs around his hip, pushing him closer to your body. You let go of his arms to run your hands through his hair as kept pushing you into the mattress with the ferocity of his kiss. He stopped for a moment to take off his oversized jacket, his thin shirt leaving nothing up to the imagination.

His hands began to go down to your chest, kneading your breasts. You needed more skin contact, so you started tugging on his shirt. He let go of your lips once more to tug the shirt off, his muscles in full view. But, he didn’t go back to kissing you. “Not fair. I can’t be the only one undressing,” he said with a smirk. 

You sat up a fraction and tugged your sweater over your head. Before he could say anything, you unclasped your bra and threw it off to the side. In response, Kurtz pushed you back down on the bed, and his mouth latched on to your left breast. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you grabbed his head to pull him back in for a kiss. 

Still kissing you, Kurtz unbuttoned your jeans and reached in to rub you through your underwear. You moaned at the feeling and commands, “Take them off.” Kurtz pulled down your pants and chucked them aside, leaving you only in your black lace underwear.  The two of you kept grinding against each other, but the friction of his jeans and your skin was uncomfortable so you unbuttoned his dark jeans. He got the cue and took off his pants completely. His erection was visible through his boxers, and you looked at him hungrily. With one swift movement, you removed your underwear. Kurtz smirked at you and followed suit, stepping out of his boxers. “I want you,” you said quietly.

“I know you do.” Kurtz crawled on top of you again, trailing his kisses from your forehead to your breasts and down to your inner thigh. He came back to kiss you. You broke the kiss, asking him whether he had condoms. He chuckled and clambered off the bed to take a condom out of his jacket pocket. He slipped it on and came back to the bed. “You a virgin?”

You laughed loudly. “Are you kidding me? It was public knowledge that me and my prom date had the worst first times ever.” Kurtz chuckled softly. “I’ll be fine. I need you… in me. Now.”

Slowly, Kurtz slid inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut at the pinch, but you breathed out, “Keep going.” He slid in further until he was fully inside you. Grabbing the headframe, Kurtz began moving slowly. It was agonizingly slow for you so you ordered him to go faster. He smirked and let go of the headboard to kiss you. Still kissing you, he began to move faster, the bedpost hitting the wall repeatedly. You moaned against the kiss, your hands traveling him his back, leaving small scratches in their wake. 

You two were rocking back and forth, waiting for that peak. “How close are you?” you breathed.

“Close. You?” You nodded, and Kurtz’s movements got faster and harder. Your breaths were getting uneven; you were about reach your climax. “Kurtz, I’m gonna cum.” And if it was even possible, he moved even faster than before. You came short moments after that, dark spots filtering your vision. Kurtz was still pumping himself in you, trying to reach his peak. It took a few seconds, and a look of pure bliss came upon his face. He took himself out of you and laid down beside you, stripping off the used condom into the bin next to the bed. 

“Well, fuck,” he said quietly.

“We just did that,” you said, staring off into space. 

“What time is it?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“A little past two.”

The two of you breathed loudly for awhile, trying to get your breaths even again. Once they did, you looked at Kurtz who had his eyes shut for a brief minute. He then looked at you, seeming as if he had a strange thought. He smirked and asked, “Wanna go for round two?”

//

The buzzer woke you up. You blinked your eyes open and sighed softly. But then you remembered what woke you up. “Oh no.” You shoved Kurtz softly and he muttered a ‘what?’ before rolling to the other side. “Someone’s here!” you screamed. Kurtz, full awake now, got up from the bed. He began slipping his boxers and shirt on. Fully dressed, you chuck his pants at him and said, “Put your pants back on!” Before he could get his pants buttoned, the door unlocked to reveal Reggie.

“Hey guys, I’m back early and- what the fuck?” Reggie stared at Kurtz’s unbuttoned pants. Then, he looked at you. “What happened here?” he asked, peering around them to look at the messed up sheets. “You guys seriously had sex in here. Oh my god.” Reggie turned away from them, and Kurtz buttoned up his jeans. Reggie cleared his throat and faced them again. “Fix up the sheets and remove unwanted things,” he said, looking at the condom on the rim of the trash bin. “We never speak of this.”

Oh lord I hope that smut was good enough. I’m rusty as hell.

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command Prompt: Emma finding out she’s pregnant with Linnie.

As always, thank you to you guys who have read all of those crazy words of Second in Command (Tumblr | AO3) and who keep asking for more! You guys mean the world to me for allowing me to keep writing in this same universe! I like this little one-shot a lot and hope you do too. 💙

If AO3 is more your style for reading | here |

-/-

The sun beats down on her skin as she’s stretched out on one of the lounge chairs by the lake. She’ll have to move under the umbrella soon so that she doesn’t get burned, but she’s just so comfortable resting here. Brennan and Allison have been spending more time here now that Brennan isn’t actively working as much as he nears his eighties, so they’ve updated as much of the furniture as they can while still making the place look as elegant as possible because that’s simply what they do (her house is a mess of toys on the ground with a stained couch cushion that’s been flipped over after the grape juice couldn’t be cleaned out, so elegance has never been high on her list of furniture needs) in this family. These lounge chairs with plush cushions may very well be her favorite thing on the property.

Modernity can be a good thing.

And she really likes their bed here. It’s like sleeping on one giant pillow when in reality they have at least fifteen pillows and three fluffy blankets. That’s all good with her, though, even when Andy somehow manages to force himself in there early in the mornings when she’s trying to rest. Going on holiday can be a little stressful when she’s always wrangling kids, but this is so much easier than traveling with them while working. They went to Canada two months ago, and it was an experience.

She’s almost entirely sure that Sutton cried on every plane that they took.

(She might have too.)

“Should we join them in the water?” Abigail asks her from her spot next to her. Emma lifts her brow in response, not bothering to take off her sunglasses to look at Abigail or in the direction of the water.

“It’s far too cold. I’m not entirely sure that the kids aren’t going to come back with pneumonia or something.”

“They’ll be fine. Liam and Killian won’t let them stay in for too long, especially Sutton.”

“Is she swimming or is Killian still holding onto her?”

“Killian’s holding her.”

A sigh passes through her lips before she sits up, having to take a few deep breaths to settle the dizziness that she’s feeling after having laid down for so long. Her eyes scan out to the lake where she sees Alex, Andy, and Lizzie taking turns jumping into the water, each of them doing different kinds of jumps before splashing in the water. It makes her a little nervous for Andy to be copying Alex, especially since he’s so much bigger, but that’s pretty much how things work when they’re all together. Andy doesn’t care about the size or age difference as long as he gets to spend time with his older cousins. They’re pretty good at accommodating him, but sometimes they do leave him behind to run off on their own. That always results in a meltdown, but it always passes.

Kids.

They’re ridiculous.

And exhausting.

She loves them.

“I’ll be back,” she tells Abigail before rising from the seat and stretching her arms above her head, letting the aches fade away as much as they can.

She has felt so under the weather for the past few days, but she’s thinking it’s mostly her body calming down from working so much this summer. She’s been more involved in Kidding a Goal and its new facilities and events, as well as picking up a few more patronages, and it’s been kind of exhausting balancing working, being a mom, wife, daughter, friend, and, frankly, a human being. She loves her life, what she does, but sometimes it’s exhausting trying to put on a happy face and spending her days talking to more people than she can probably count without losing track. It’s so rewarding getting to help people and organizations who need it, but like everything, it can take its toll.

Her life is blessed, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t experience hardships. That’s something Killian really had to help her with when she’d have a hard day and try to excuse it away by saying others had worse days, that she was too privileged to get to have a hard time. It’s true, but it doesn’t make the fact that she had an emotionally or physically exhausting day any less valid.

Right now, she’s mostly physically exhausted. Emotionally, she’s feeling pretty good.

She needed this time with her family. With Killian. God, if there’s anyone who she can spend time with without really needing a break, it’s her husband. That’s not to say that they don’t need time apart or get on each other’s nerves when they spend too much time together because those things most definitely happen, but a lot of the time she simply needs him to sit next to her on the couch in silence as they work on their laptops once the kids are asleep. It’s a comfortable companionship. He makes her feel comfortable when the rest of the world has her walking on a ledge.

Usually in heels.

What she would give to be able to wear jeans and sneakers more often.

Or slippers.

She’s a very old thirty three year old.

(Almost thirty four as Killian likes to remind her.)

“I thought you just said it was too cold.”

“I did,” she laughs, twisting her body and picking up her cover up before wrapping it over her, the thin material barely doing its job, “but Sutton is being clingy when we’re trying to get her to like swimming. It’ll help if I go down there.”

“Make sure my children still have all of their limbs, okay?”

“And if they don’t?”

“I don’t know. Let Liam worry about it.”

She chuckles at that, shaking her head as her feet move from the pavement to the soft grass. It only takes a minute to get to the lake, and no one notices her over the commotion that is Andy, Alex, and Lizzie all jumping off of the dock at the same time. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and wolf whistles, the sound loud enough that Sutton’s head whips toward her, Killian’s following right after.

“Mummy,” she squeals, releasing her arms from Killian’s neck only to grab on more tightly when she realizes that she might fall. She won’t. Killian’s got a good grip on her on top of her floaties. He’s not about to let her down. “Andy did a big jump.”

“Isn’t it so much fun?” she asks as she steps closer to the water, sitting down at the edge so that her feet just miss the lake, the coolness of the water somehow permeating through the air. “Don’t you want to go swimming with Daddy?”

“This little lady refuses,” Killian explains, hoisting her a little higher until she’s sitting on his shoulders, her feet hitting against his chest and the little bit of hair that’s peeking up above the water there. “Tell Mummy why you don’t want to go swimming, Button.”

Killian wades a little closer to her, his body coming out of the water little by little, and at that moment she swears there’s never been anything hotter than her husband soaking wet while he carries their daughter. It’s ridiculous and totally unfair, but she’s not going to complain. That would be dumb on her part.

She’s the one who gets to appreciate him and have him in her life. Forever.

Love and all that jazz.

“There was a fish.”

“A fish?”

“In the water,” she huffs, totally exasperated by the fact that she has to further explain herself. There’s so much sass in that little body, and it’s definitely payback or something for how she and Killian are. It has to be. She’s scared of what she’s going to be like when she gets older. “I don’t like fish.”

“You don’t have to eat it, baby,” she explains, smiling softly at Sutton whose lips are in a little toddler scowl.

She and Killian make some cute kids.

“Uncle Liam said I did.”

“Of course he did.” She turns to say something to Liam only to have him suddenly very interested in swimming away to be closer to the dock and to the rest of the kids who still don’t care that she’s shown up despite her cheering them on with her whistle. But who cares about Mom when there are jumps to be done? “He was just kidding. You don’t have to eat the fish, but wouldn’t it be so fun to get to swim with the fish?”

“Darling, that doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“Hush,” she laughs at Killian’s waggling brows and upturned lips. “Sutton, if Mommy swims will you go swimming with us? You can hold onto me.”

She seems to think about her answer, her nose scrunching up as she debates on whether or not she wants to get into the water.

“No fish?” she questions, her green eyes glancing down at the water as it ripples with each of Killian’s movements.

“No fish,” Emma confirms, nodding her head and smiling while she sheds her cover up from her shoulders, the sunshine hitting her skin once more.

It’s going to be cold, the water. She knows it is. It’s not like it’s summer in Florida. It’s summer in Scotland, which is a whole different ballpark. She didn’t want to do this, but she does a lot of things for her kids that she would never do for anything else. This is probably the least gross or annoying if she’s honest with herself.

Stepping into the water, she lets her toes sink into the mud while her legs slowly disappear under the blue, goosebumps rising over her flesh the further she makes submerges herself. How Killian and Liam have been out here with the kids for an hour, she has no idea.

They must be immune to the cold by now because it’s taking everything in her to keep her teeth from chattering.

“Daddy, I want Mummy.”

“If the lady insists.”

“Come here, kid,” she sighs, reaching her arms out to take Sutton from Killian while she tries not to squirm at the chill in the water. She holds Sutton above the water as much as she can, but it’s difficult with her height, so she lets her toes dangle in the water, slowly but surely dipping her further in while she talks. “You know, one time your daddy made me eat a fish, and it was so gross.”

“He’s silly.”

“Hey now, Poppet,” Killian laughs, wading over to them so that his shoulders rest just above the water, blue eyes staring directly into their daughter’s, “I am not silly.”

He taps Sutton’s nose, and she scrunches it up again. Sutton is a pretty good mix of both of them, but when she does those little facial movements, all Emma can see is herself.

“You are silly,” Sutton insists, releasing her arm from Emma to tap Killian’s nose back. “Like a goose.”

“Do you hear this, love? I’m silly like a goose. I think Sutton is the silliest goose through.”

“Oh no. I definitely think Daddy is the silliest goose. Look at his face.”

“It’s funny,” Sutton giggles while Emma keeps lowering her into water, the kid not at all noticing.

“Funny?” Killian huffs, his face pressing back into his neck while his lips flatten into a straight line, looking about as unamused as possible as Sutton continues to laugh. “My face is not funny. I happen to know that I’m handsome, dashing even. Your mummy tells me so the one time a month that she’s nice to me.”

“Hey,” she scoffs, running her hand through the water and splashing Killian without really thinking about it, the water hitting him in his face, “that is not true, babe. I tell you that at least twice a month.”

“Yeah,” Sutton agrees, not really knowing what she’s agreeing to while her legs kick under the water, Emma’s arm still wrapped around her waist. “You’re pretty, Daddy.”

“Thank you, my little love,” he sighs, wiping the water from his brow before dipping his head down to press his lips against Sutton’s temple. It doesn’t make her heart swell. Not at all.

(It does.)

“You’re pretty too,” he promises, very gently and expertly taking her away from Emma and dragging her though the water in small circles while he continues to talk, “and very, very funny. I’d say you’re smart too and as sweet as one of Gammy’s cakes that we ate after dinner last night. And don’t tell Mummy, but you may very well be my favorite girl in the whole world.”

“The whole world?” she gasps, excitement shining through her eyes while she continues to move around.

“The whole world,” Killian promises, looking over at her and winking, his lips now curved into such a smile that all of the lines on his face are more prominent than before. “Now, tell me all about what you and Indy were doing last night under the dinner table. Indy’s stomach looked very full. Did she eat some of your peas?”

-/-

“They’re asleep,” she sighs later that night, plopping down onto the mattress and sinking into the blankets, a day full of sun and running around making her so exhausted that she doesn’t think she’ll ever move from this bed again. Not unless someone drags her kicking and screaming.

Killian hums from somewhere in the room. She’s sure that he’s close, but her eyes are closed. She doesn’t feel like opening them either. But then there’s the soft press of lips against her jaw, sharp pricks of scruff trailing behind it, and she can feel the familiar radiation of body heat hovering over her. She still doesn’t open her eyes, though. Instead she lets Killian run his mouth over her skin, kissing and nipping in all of the right places that have her sighing in contentment and that have him increasing his efforts. It feels so damn good, and if it were any other night she’d let it keep going and ride him until their limbs feel like jelly, but she’s tired and feeling a little bloated.

And she honestly can’t tell if her boobs feel weird because she’s kind of turned on her if it’s because her period should be starting in a couple of days.

“You are the most beautiful woman,” Killian whispers against her skin, punctuating each word with a kiss on different parts of her face, finally landing on her lips as he gently slides his mouth over hers, the softness overwhelming her. It feels too good to ask him to stop, so she doesn’t. “Today you had on a sinfully small bikini, and it was far too distracting while we were trying to get our daughter to swim.”

She chuckles at that before reaching her arms up and resting her hands on his back, her fingers trailing along the muscles while her eyes finally open, a deep blue gaze staring into her.

“You were most definitely not supposed to be thinking about that. We have children for goodness sakes.”

“How do you think we got those children?”

“Obviously a little stork dropped them off,” she laughs, arching her back up to further press herself into him while her right hand finds itself resting at the base of his neck, fingers toying with his hair. It’s gotten a little too long, but she loves it. He’s got this little section at the front where some strands fall across his forehead, and she’s kind of obsessed with them. He’ll have to cut it before he goes back to work, but she can appreciate it now. It makes him look boyishly handsome when he smiles, and she is forever charmed by him. “We don’t have sex. That’s not a thing that happens.”

“Definitely not. And I’m definitely not trying to do that right now.”

“I think I might be too tired,” she finally admits, flashing him a weak smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirms before softly kissing him. “Maybe tomorrow. Today was exhausting.”

“I’m sorry you’re exhausted,” he says before rolling off of her and onto his back, the mattress moving under his weight. She twists to the side and props her head up on her hand so that she can face Killian. “Are you still feeling ill? You probably need to go to the doctor, love.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need to see anyone.”

“You’ve been exhausted for weeks. That’s not normal.”

“Killian, I’m fine.”

He huffs, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. His lips are pressed into a firm line, his brows furrowed together, and she reaches over to him with her free hand so that she can trail her fingers over his chest in an attempt to soothe him.

“I’d just feel better if you were to get checked out. If you’re sick, you need to get some kind of medication.”

“Babe, I’m not sick,” she promises, patting his chest. “It’s nothing. It’ll pass, and then I’ll be full of energy running around chasing Andy and Sutton.”

“If you say so.”

“Killian.”

“What?”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“Because I’m worried about you. I can worry about you, can’t I? Am I not allowed to do that?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she sighs, confusion coursing through her veins at his sudden harsh tone. His jaw is ticking, his eyes looking toward the doorway and not her, and she doesn’t know what’s happening. “Of course you’re allowed to worry about me. I’m just saying that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about it. I mean, at worst, I’m pregnant or something, but I’m definitely not dying.”

A heavy silence falls over them, the only sound the thump of the ceiling fan rotating over them, and her words begin to ruminate in her mind, settling there and settling between them. She’s not pregnant. She can’t be.

Or she can be.

She definitely could be. Her birth control would be super sucky if it’s true, but there’s always that small percentage. And she has forgotten before. She has, and it’s always something that worries her until her period comes along. She should probably get an implant so that she doesn’t have to worry about it anymore, but it might possibly be too late for that.

Pregnant.

Shit.

That’s not at all how she should be thinking about this, but with the way her heart is thumping against her ribcage, a small pulse of heat radiating over her body all the way down to her toes, it’s all she can think. They could have another baby. They could. It’s not like they couldn’t afford it or that they don’t have anyone to help out. They have each other, their parents, friends, Elsa. Of course, they may send Elsa running screaming if they bring another kid into the mix, even if Andy will officially be starting school soon and she won’t watch him as much.

That’s a whole other can of worms that she does not need to be opening now.

She could be pregnant.

Again.

Some of the signs are there. Her fatigue, her sore boobs, her lack of a period. She didn’t even realize that until now, too caught up in…life. She was too caught up in her life and in everything that’s been going on to even truly realize that her body has been more than tired.

She’s done this twice. How the hell could she not have noticed? Or known?

Technically she doesn’t even know now. She’s just speculating. That’s all that it is. It’s a small thought that seems to be festering into something bigger. It could be nothing.

She’s not sure that she wants it to be nothing.

And she has absolutely no idea how Killian feels about. He might not have even gone down this thought path. For all she knows, he’s still pissed at her for brushing off his concerns about her health. She gets it, does the same thing to him, but she knows her own body.

Kind of.

She might be pregnant after all and not have realized it until she told a really bad joke.

At least she’s not nauseous.

Yet.

“Are you?” Killian finally asks, the tepidness of his voice cutting through the tenseness and the silence of the room. He turns his head to face her, blue eyes widened with…something. It might be excitement or trepidation. She can’t tell. “Emma, love, do you think you’re pregnant? That would explain so much about the past few weeks.”

“I don’t know.”

Killian nods his head before reaching his hand over to cup her cheek, rough fingers caressing her skin. His thumb keeps moving back and forth under her eye, and it takes everything in her not close her eyes at how comforting his touch is. But she wants to see the look on his face, the brightness in his eyes, and the small smile that seems to be tugging on the corner of his lips.

She wants.

She thinks she might want this hypothetical baby no matter how terrifying all of this can be and has been in the past. She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget holding onto Killian’s hand and chanting over and over again “please let her be okay, please let her be okay, please let her be okay” when she was giving birth to Sutton. It was somehow more terrifying than when she gave birth to Andy, the knowledge and experience making her more anxious, but everything turned out just fine. She knows that it doesn’t always work out like that, and that terrifies her but…she doesn’t want to think about all of that right now.

“Should we go into town and go buy a test?”

“Killian, we cannot go into a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test.”

“Sure we can.”

He’s obviously lost his mind. Going into a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test is the absolute last thing that they can do. They have a hard enough time keeping their lives private. This would be walking out of privacy and into publicity.

“First of all, Thomas will never let us. And secondly, someone will see us and there’s bound to be a bunch of reports. I don’t want that because this is no one’s business but ours. And I’m not even entirely sure that I am. I mean, I’ve been pregnant before. Twice. I know how it works. But that doesn’t really mean anything when I - “

“Emma,” he coos, pulling her face a little closer to his. He’s got this look in his eyes, one she’s seen before, where the blue is a little bluer and the wrinkles around them somehow younger, almost resembling when they met thirteen years ago. He’s excited. He’s excited by the possibility that he’s going to be a dad again, that this unplanned thing may turn out okay, and she’s over here having some kind of potential meltdown mixed in with happy thoughts.

It makes sense though. She’s the one who has to be pregnant. All Killian has to do is rub her feet and listen to her bitch about heartburn.

God, the heartburn.

And the weird skin marks. And vomiting. And giant bellies that never quite go back to the way they were before. The birth. Just…everything about the birth.

That epidural stuff is good though.

As are the babies who grow up to be their own people. Andy and Sutton are the greatest, most beautiful thing she’s ever made, and she made them with her body and with the love she and Killian share. They’re so damn difficult sometimes, the uncertainty as to how to deal with crying fits and tempers is terrifying. How she and Killian act and parent them impacts them for the rest of their lives. They’ll already have so much to deal with because of who their dad is, and she just wants them to have good, normal childhoods like she had.

She wants them to be happy.

Because she loves them, would literally, actually die for those little munchkins, and seeing their smiles makes her entire day. Her entire life.

So maybe another baby wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe even good. Great. Fantastic.

Damn it.

She really wants another baby, for real this time, and she isn’t even completely sure if she’s pregnant or not yet.

Hopefully she is. And if she isn’t, maybe they could start trying. Killian wants this. She knows. Gone are his insurmountable fears of being a bad father because his influence was a horrible one for most of his life. Killian’s got to be the greatest dad in existence, probably even more so than her dad, and if he…if they want to do this again, they should get to do this again.

Her mind changed far too quickly, the thoughts all over the place. That’s either a bad thing or maybe a really, really good thing. Maybe it means that this baby, hypothetical or not, is a good thing. Maybe it means that she’s ready.

Maybe it means that one last time, and this will definitely be the last time, she and Killian can go through all of the wonderfully terrifying moments of being parents to a newborn where everything is so small and terrifying and refreshingly innocent.

How things change from when she was younger and never could have imaged her life being like this, could have never imagined wanting this.

Kids are really gross sometimes. Why people want them is still a mystery to her, even if she is one of those people who wants kids.

The things you do for love.

She and Killian make some damn cute babies. Seriously. They’re pretty much the best.

And her oldest baby is almost five and that’s decidedly not a baby anymore.

Nope. She already told herself that she wasn’t going there.

She’s got this kind of nervous energy running over her, an anticipatory buzz, and when she focuses back on Killian and the way his lips are ticked up on the right, his eyebrow raised with them, her skin suddenly feels like a livewire. She’s nervous and scared and a little anxious, but she wants this.

“Emma,” Killian repeats, his thumb still moving against her face, “are you okay?”

“I’m currently thinking about the state of my vagina, but yeah, I’m great.”

Killian snorts before pressing forward and softly kissing her, moving his lips against hers over and over again. “Do you want to go find out? I’m pretty much an expert at hiding out in public so that no one notices us. You’d be surprised what a baseball cap and sunglasses can do.”

“Okay Captain America. We’ll just look like we’re robbing the pharmacy because it’s dark outside.”

“Perfect.”

She’s not entirely that this plan is going to work, and for their entire drive into town, even with Killian’s fingers resting on her thigh the entire time, she wonders just how spectacularly this is going to blow up in their faces. It has to, doesn’t it? She has a lot of good things in her life, but the one thing that she does not have a lot of the time is privacy. For someone who has never wanted a life in the spotlight and who happened to fall in love with someone who was born under those bright lights, it’s all been a bit of a culture shock even so many years later. She’s pretty comfortable with things now, but it’s not like she can wander into a pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test without someone realizing who she is.

Freaking ridiculous.

But that’s exactly what she and Killian do, quickly sliding in and out of the store, using the self check out to buy several tests and a few bags of candy for the two of them.

Okay, really for her.

She’s kind of feeling like stress eating, and if she’s going to be carrying a baby for the next seven to nine months of her life, she can have some damn chocolate.

But only a little. Moderation and all.

“It’s nice out here,” Killian tells her as they walk hand in hand through the streets of the town, her sneakers pressing over the cobblestone. “It’s very…”

“Ancient.”

“Aye, exactly,” he laughs, squeezing her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. How in the world is that so soothing? Seriously. It’s like some kind of weird drug. “I vote that we sneak away from our house and our kids far more often, and that maybe, just maybe, we get up to a few naughty things.”

“Hm, like what?”

“I’ve always wanted to make out with you in an alleyway. That doesn’t seem gross or dangerous at all.”

“We’ve done that.”

“Have we?”

“I am a damn good kisser, baby,” she gasps, turning to look up at him. He’s got his brows furrowed together, all of the lines on his forehead bunching, and she realizes that he’s actually trying to remember this moment. “And I really feel like you should remember me dry humping you in the alleyway behind the pub.”

“I seriously don’t remember, love. How old were we?”

“I…have no idea. All I know is that my parents were working with me that night, and we snuck out the side door for a moment alone because you kept whispering particularly dirty things in my ear whenever I walked by you.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“I know. You never talk like that.”

“Never,” he whispers, leaning down to talk directly in her ear, his scruff brushing against her skin and his teeth biting down on her lobe. “I find I don’t need to when the most alluring woman on the planet has already fallen for my charming ways.”

“You’d do well to keep the most alluring woman on the planet then.”

“Well, I do know that she falls apart under my touch, so I’ve got that going for me. But she also finds me funny and kind and far smarter than I am. I’m also a good father to her children, or so I like to think.”

“You are,” she reassures him, releasing his hand so that she can wrap her arms around his neck as he pushes her back against a storefront, her back hitting a stone wall. “You’ll be a good one to this third one too, if there is a third one.”

“I think we have the means to find out.”

“I thought we were going to make out in this alleyway first.”

He chuckles before dipping his head to kiss her temple, not her lips. “My wife deserves far better than to be kissed against a building.”

“We’ve done it before.”

“You weren’t my wife then.”

“Ha,” she laughs, leaning her head back and looking up at the sparkling blue that’s staring down at her. “So what? I wasn’t as important then?”

“Exactly, my love.”

Killian does kiss her then, and it makes her toes curl in pleasure before he convinces her that they need to go back home and to their suite before anyone realizes that they’re gone, before their kids wake up and need them. She’d somehow almost forgotten the real reason for their little adventure, but the entire ride back she’s a mix of nerves and excitement itching to get back to a bathroom so that she can take one of these tests.

Or probably all of them.

After they get back, she immediately heads to the bathroom, unwrapping the box and taking the test before placing it on the counter and walking the few feet to settle down onto Killian’s lap as he sits on the cushioned bench in the entryway of the bathroom.

“I’m nervous,” she mumbles into his shoulder, holding onto his neck as his hands move up and down her back, nails tracing random patterns into her skin. “Are you nervous?”

“Bloody terrified. We didn’t plan this.”

“We thought about it, though. We just…never decided. We were still in the talks, and they’d decidedly been put on hold.”

“That’s how it happened with Andy, darling.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, pressing her lips into his collarbone, “that’s true. He’s the best.”

“Absolutely. I love him.”

“Sutton too.”

“Of course. She’s going to give me hell one day.”

“One day? It’s not happening now?”

“Not in the way I’m thinking,” he laughs, moving his hand up beneath her shirt, his skin impossibly warm, while she adjusts her legs. She can already feel him messing with her bra. Cheeky bastard. “I’m thinking she’s going to pull a few stunts like we just did.”

“Sneak out to go buy a pregnancy test.”

“God I hope not. I was simply thinking of her trying to sneak out. I bet she’ll move into the bedroom with the trellis outside the window and climb down so that she doesn’t have to walk past our bedroom or use the front door.”

“Security will see her.”

“Most likely. I believe that’s the best perk of having them around. They’ll work out all of the kinks with Andrew.”

“Yeah, he’s our test child.”

“Exactly.” Killian kisses the crown of her head, and she wonders if she could fall asleep right here in his arms. “It’s time to go check.”

“Already?” she whines, pulling back and pouting, knowing that she’s acting a bit pathetic. “I’m not ready.”

“Sure you are,” he promises, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear and tapping his thumb against her cheek three times. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and you can handle anything.”

“Charmer.”

Killian’s lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows moving across his forehead. “You did tell me I had to work to keep the most alluring woman on the planet.”

“You’re doing a good job.”

She makes the effort to take a few deep breaths before rising from Killian’s lap and walking over to the counter so that she can see the test. In the twenty seconds that it takes her to look, it’s confidently, finally, officially  settled in her that she wants this, wants this baby, and wants to do this one more time with the love of her life.

The positive sign on the test tells her that she gets to.