#fandom is meant for bonding not blocking

[moonlightseranade]

i havent read the book but im choosing to believe what someone else on here which is that eddie was 18 and therefore capable of changing and maturing. we meet him at almost 20 or he already was 20 🤷🏽‍♀️ something like that.

the eddie we know, joe's eddie still exists in tv canon, so its not like we're losing anything there, maybe we can link the missing two years and think he became more reclusive after the book ends. maybe something else but dont hate if people genuinely like the book even if in bits and pieces or entirely.

personally, i'll take the bits and pieces and run with it but im not gonna hassel about it. i've read so many au's and fanon that i adore about our fav metalhead that its all gravy to me. either way i think its kinda sweet how much we adore a character that we feel the need to be protective.

however, dont be a dickhead and claim its out of love. theres a fine line and sometimes people cross it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.

A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.

However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.

I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."

I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.

I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.

While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.

I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.

Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.

AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.

What are these acronyms?

[notherpuppet]

Is there any particular reason you use ship names with qpr relationships? (Like using a / or radioapple for examples) It makes it a little hard to tell what's meant to be romantic and platonic in fandoms sometimes, no shame for using them obvi and not pushing you to change your tagging or anything. Just wondering

Well the QPR I'm depicting is pretty affectionate (I mean mostly just xo's, not xxx hahaha) so even if it's NOT romantic, it probably may still be perceived as a ship between characters. I'm purposefully displaying a bond that is affectionate and loving, albeit platonic. So I still consider it a ship and that's why I tag it as such.

So with QPRs like radioapple, radiorose, almimzy, radiostatic, etc. etc. (alastor ships pretty much lol) I just figure that if people don't like to see characters in this ship, they're able to just block the tag. There are ships that I don't particularly like, but I just scroll away. It doesn't really bother me, but yknow; we get to cater a lot of our own social media experiences. There's the block and mute options for a reason.

As for ascertaining whether a ship art is QPR or not, I think someone can inquire or just do a little more legwork to figure that out themselves tbh. Some things may not have been written to be QPR, but may fit inside that idea for someone engaging in the artwork/fanfic. Some things may be intentionally written to be QPR and not coincide with a fan's taste or personal ideas. For example, someone may depict a QPR that includes sex. These are valid QPR experiences. On the flip side, someone may not be depicting a QPR and they include nothing explicit or affectionate, but it still fits into someone else's idea of what a QPR can look like. It's not black and white. There is nuance.

We should individually do the work of assessing if a fanart is something that we appreciate or not. AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL AN ARTIST IF YOU DON'T LIKE HOW THEY DO SOMETHING BTW. Just saying. Pretty RUDE ACTUALLY so yknow I would advocate for NOT doing that. I also don't think we need to put it on the artists to define exactly what they're depicting, since it can be a pretty difficult relationship to pin down. Affection and friendship can look very different for lots of people. And I don't think it's necessary for an artist or writer to spell out their intentions for us. Art is a means to express oneself and to have fun. If we choose to engage in an artwork, then we can also interpret it and come to conclusions of our own.

TLDR; I'm gonna go ahead and tag QPRs as their fandom ship names and I think it's up to us as users to cater social media to our tastes individually.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 2.

Summary: Felix and Y/N's first year of university means being more open with how close they are, while perhaps growing a little more distant than Felix would like. Also the Catton family have bestowed Y/N their own title, which Felix hates, and Y/N and Farleigh have a moment of connection over Christmas.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (reader bottoming but their gender is not made explicit), Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog & pet)

A/N: 3071 words. i definitely meant to get to the start of their second year/first run in with Oli..... but this chapter got long enough, so instead we'll meet Oliver at the start of the next chapter and instead we get Felix and Reader at university, best friends who hook up shenanigans, Venetia being a pot-stirrer because she likes to rile up her brother, and Farleigh and Y/N bonding and boning. i feel like the pacing is a bit strange so id love some feedback <3 ALSO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UK COLLEGE CALANDERS IM SO SORRY LOL

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo

----

To absolutely no-ones surprise, least of all yours, Felix takes to the social aspects of college like a duck to water. Neither of you missed a single day or night of activities during first year orientation, and you both left the various pubs and bars with a different hook up each night.

Felix sees a poster for a band in town, and crows with laughter as he talks about how his mother would hate if he ever got a piercing, but you know the look in his eye too well, and tell him there's a piercing place a block away.

"God I miss Farleigh," you sigh with a smile, watching him size himself up in the mirror of the tattoo parlour where the piercer had drawn approximate dots to mark his soon-to-be eyebrow piercing.

"Oh he'd love this, wouldn't he?" Felix agrees, grinning from ear to ear, catching your gaze in the reflection. Despite the piercer's reassurance that it doesn't actually hurt that bad, Felix plays up the bit of being concerned, insisting that you hold his hand.

It's easier in this environment to be affectionate. Perhaps its the way that all nights liked to blur together, lips and teeth and tongues and hands, and you find yourself invited to parties and into bedrooms and Felix is in the crowd, pupils wide and drugs in his blood and knowing you can take care of yourself.

Fruit flies mistaking his light in the night for the rot they're used to.

That being said, while of course Felix is gorgeous and the life of the party, your own magnetic aura and love features draw in your own crowd of admirers; you proximity to Felix was merely a perk.

You yourself find yourself blooming at college; with a far stronger sense of identity than you'd had for most of your teenage years, you shed many of your adolescent insecurities and begin to embrace yourself and the people around you as more than just Felix's friends.

"I miss you," he teases, eyes shiny and pupils huge, looking at you with that look that made everyone else weak in the knees. The two of you are crammed too close in a booth at a club, everyone else having left to dance or find something interesting to snort in the bathrooms.

"I'm always around, Fi," you murmur, just as high, lips twisted into a bleary smile, your finger beneath his chin to lift his face to you.

"They love you here," he grinned, lips inches from yours, skin glowing with sweat from the adrenaline and high of the night, "knew they would," it's not especially jealous, more proud, and you sigh against his lips with the kind of warm contentment his praise always brings you.

"Don't care if they love me," you say, very tellingly, voice low and flirty. Anyone could see the two of you, but the unspoken rules of high school had fallen away; the rules of college seemed to prioritise a lack of judgement, especially with the people you surrounded yourself with. Felix giggles, flushing red, leaning into your touch, leaning even heavier against you in the little, otherwise empty booth.

"You miss me, Fi?" You prompt, letting his face go as you wrap an arm around him, drawing you in close to him. Despite his height, he folds himself up to lean into you. Felix giggles again, mostly to himself, clearly shitfaced, without answering, he angles his face up to press a kiss to your neck, "we see each other every day, we still fuck around, we -"

"Do you think I could live without you?" He asks suddenly, and surprisingly frankly. His chin is on your shoulder, eyes wide and demanding an answer. It's not a joke, nor some strange attempt at flirting, and your throat turns dry as the lights spin around you both.

"You're drunk," you tell him gently, "and high."

"Why would I ask that?" He frowns, suddenly, sitting up, as if he's talking more to himself than you, "that's a fucked question actually, sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have -"

"I think it's more about how you feel about it." You tell him gently, "we should get water. You sit here, I'll get it."

You're unsteady on your feet when you head to the bar, collecting two cups of water, almost overflowing, from the end, trying not to think about it all. It didn't matter either way, how he thought or felt about it. It was a foolish, drunken question, it doesn't matter. Right?

Except he's bopping back and forth in his seat, tapping the rhythm with surprising success on the table top, eyes shining in the light where all he seems to look at is you. Felix grin wide and bright, thanks already in his smile before the words reach his lips as you sit back down next to him.

You could live without him, but you know you'd never want to, so long as he'd want you around.

"Think I'd rather die than live without you," he says with little prompting, holding the cup with both hands as he downs half in a single gulp. What?

"What?"

He turns those perfect, brown eyes upon you like you don't already live your life in his shape, like he hadn't validated every choice you'd made since you'd met him. He smiles.

"You're my best mate, you're always good to me and help me with shit and never get mad at all the dumb ideas I have and you've made sure I haven't gotten kicked out of any schools, even if I probably deserved it," he rambles and takes another drink, this time choosing to look out at the nauseating crowd of haze and lights and bodies, "I love you, I don't think I could live without you."

"Is that why you miss me?" Your voice is barely audible above the music, but Felix still hears it. Putting his mostly empty cup on the table, he shoves his shoulder against yours, refusing to let up until his full weight is against you, the two of you toppling down in the booth, him draped over you wearing the absolute goofiest grin. It's a good reminder that you're both incredibly drunk.

"Just miss you."

You stumble out of the bar together, and back to the dorms. Felix is insistent that you stay with him.

"No funny business," he mumbles against your ear, breath hot and smirk in his voice, "promise."

"You couldn't get it up if you tried," you snorted, "whiskey dick." Though he tries to protest, you gently elbow him in the ribs and he sulkily admits that you're probably right. Still, in the warmth of his room and the two of you stripped to your underwear, it's kind of irresistible to not make out like teenagers for a good while. You get you both glasses of water to put on the nightstand, and Felix tells you he loves you while on the brink of sleep.

"Love you too, Fi."

"Couldn't live without you, meant it," he hiccups, cracking an eye to smirk up at you from where he's splayed out on the bed, "probably."

"Don't think I could live without you either," you shuffle yourself into the bed beside him, letting him roll over to wrap an arm around you, "even if you are a fucking wanker sometimes," you grin, and hear him laugh into his pillow.

Felix has more game than anyone you've ever met without even trying, stealing and breaking hearts from all areas of the university. You watch it happen with amusement as you find your own slew of pretty guys and girls to keep you company when you feel like it. Still, for all the charisma and charm Felix had been blessed with, his touch-starved nature becomes both a blessing and a curse when he finds himself drunk and tactile and desperate for touch.

A desperate, affection Felix loses all of those carefully-curated social barriers that the two of you had put between yourselves as teenagers in public. Girls are more open and supportive around here; perhaps you should be offended, that many, once they learn he's prone to clinging to you, to kissing you, they end up rationalising it. It doesn't count.

Or perhaps they think they can shift the affection to themselves. Felix always learns to be more affectionate to them, but will find himself with you more often than he's not.

And those girls don't even know about the sex.

"I think about you," he huffs between short, jagged breaths, with you bent over the end of his bed, "is that weird?"

His latest breakup isn't even twelve hours old yet, but when you'd showed up at his room with a six-pack of beers and the offer to let him vent, he'd taken it without hesitation. While they hadn't been going out for long, she'd been pretty, but an apparently lousy fuck. When you'd jokingly offered to remind him what a decent lay was like, Felix had genuinely jumped at the chance.

"A bit - ah," you mused for a moment, hips rocking back to meet his in a pleasant rhythm. He takes a pause to tap one of your ankles with his foot, and you adjust your stance to be a bit wider, "what context? Just in general - fuck, Fi, there," and you find yourself lost for words as he presses his hand against the small of your back. His pace remains steady as he fucks you, and you obliging lean further down; he knows you well, know how to fuck you just the way you both enjoy.

Then you're in his bed, straddling him, riding him with his hands on your hips, your thighs, bouncing as his nails dig pleasantly into your skin.

"Think about me?" You finally continue, breathless, and something about the way he holds you steady, lets you pause as he laughs, flushed cheeks growing even more read, makes you grin too, "you mean like this, don't you?" And you rolled your hips, eliciting a groan from him that was like music to your ears.

"Shut up," he'd laughed, giving you a squeeze, unable to meet your gaze.

"Did you ever call out my name?" You lean down, across him, and for a moment his hands slide up your body to wrap around your neck, bringing you in for a gentle kiss.

"Thankfully not."

"Still, those poor girls," you teased.

"Poor me," Felix argued, "having to try and power through terrible sex while thinking about someone who's not even there, just because I know you're better at it," and he played at pouting for a moment, looking for sympathy.

"You really didn't have to tell me all this," you laughed, sitting back up and setting a gentle pace, smiling down at him, "you're such a perv." When his fingertips trail down your body, a shiver runs down your spine. There's this look in his eyes for just a moment, something knowing, something teasing, something you'd seen on occasion that made you feel so wanted and seen and -

He likes you knowing.

"You gonna give me something to think about?" That tone of voice, the teasing, the faintest hint of authority, like he's pretending like he doesn't know all the ways you'd debauch yourself if only he asked.

Venetia gets you a collar for Christmas, and Farleigh's already been kicked out of several universities by the time your first Winter break had arrived.

"Oh Pet, that's so cute," Elspeth coos at the designer, velvet collar that Venetia had smugly handed over while Felix had scowled, "is that Cartier?" Much to Felix's dismay, Elspeth and Sir James have apparently taken to calling you Pet as a pet name. He blames his sister entirely.

"Pet's easier, sweetheart," Elspeth had tried to argue when you'd sat down at your first breakfast of the Winter break at Saltburn, and she'd asked Duncan 'don't forget about our dear pet'. Naturally Felix had frowned the entire time while arguing with his parents, who insisted it's easier to use Pet than a whole new set of names and pronouns.

"It's been years mum, how have you not adjusted?" He demands, while you have shrunken in your chair and tried to divine life's secrets from your breakfast.

"What do you think, Pet?" Venetia said with a venomous kind of sweetness. Looking up at her, she's wearing this smug kind of smile, directed not at you but at Felix next to you. When you look to him, you see Farleigh across the table trying to hide his amusement in several pieces of toast eaten with no break in between.

"I think," you paused, looking past an annoyed Felix to his mother at the head of the table, "that if you want to call me Pet, you can, I think it's sweet, but please don't expect Felix to refer to me as such," you said with a surprising amount of firmness. Then after a beat of surprise from the rest of the table, you took a deep breath, "and for events and guests, I really wouldn't appreciate being introduced as such."

"Of course," Elspeth quickly amends, adding, "Y/N," for good measure.

"It's a pet name, Pet," Sir James gives an awkward little smile, nodding in agreement. Farleigh met your gaze for a moment, and you could see only the bread was keeping his laughter from spilling out. Beside you, Felix relaxes, and finally you look at him. Dark, serious eyes, with something grateful shining faintly in the morning sun.

Of course you let him throw Venetia's collar gift in the fire in front of her, despite her protests.

You get used to the sweet way the Cattons refer to you as Pet; as much as Felix despised it's connotations when it came from his sister, there was something comforting, something almost secure about the way the whole family had picked it up so easily.

"Was wondering where I'd find you," Farleigh's voice is warm while you're raiding the expansive kitchen for some kind of easy midnight snack. You could have asked one of the many staff members who reside on the property, but you hadn't wanted to bother them over probably some crisps.

"Farleigh!" You light up upon hearing his voice, turning, refrigerator door still open in your hand. He approaches, and you close the refrigerator, hugging him tightly, "oh this is great, it's been so long since it's been just us!"

"Darling pet," he says with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You should come to Oxford, Fi and I miss you terribly," you tell him, leaning into his touch with a sincere smile as he holds your face gently, while you still hold him is a loose embrace.

"I've already been accepted into another college; you'll be fine without me," and he grins, kissing you on the nose, pressing a kiss to each cheek, "pet." He adds, almost to himself, and your face falls as you think about what he'd said.

"Everything's better with you," you insist, "and you'd love it; we could party like we did that Summer in France, but every weekend -!" Farleigh cuts you off with his lips against yours; you can taste the sweet smile he's wearing before he deepens the kiss.

Later, in Farleigh's bed, bathed in moonlight and the afterglow, you light up a cigarette and open his window.

"Fucking freezing," Farleigh mutters.

"Sorry," but you don't close the window. Silence stretches out between you both. You hope Farleigh enjoyed himself, hope he's happy -

"You don't need them," he says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, you breathe out a lungful of smoke and turn to him with a frown, "this family; we all know where you're from. You don't need them." There's something strange about his tone, clearing his throat when he finally looks at you, "but you still want them to love you."

"They're good to me," you finally say, dropping your gaze as you reach back to offer the cigarette, "to us," you tell him, and he hums with the smoke in his lungs. Then, taking back the cigarette, you inhale the sour-sweet smoke and tap off the ash off the window sill.

"I'm not their fucking dog, Farleigh," you mumble, surprising frustration escaping you, anger you hadn't even realised you were holding on to.

"I know, pet," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you'll let them think they have you kept, but you're not their dog, I know."

"I like you, Farleigh," you say with a faint smile, leaning back to see the way he's grinning too, "and I love you a bit as well I think."

"I know, I love you too, Y/N."

"We miss you a lot." There's something about the quiet that follows your words that you know all too well; Farleigh's about to tease you for something. Probably Felix related.

As if on cue;

"Does he know you like being his dog?" Grin widening, Farleigh gives you a slight shove, though the truth of his words has you hiding your own embarrassed smile.

"He thinks it's an insult to me, which is sweet of him," you chuckled, and Farleigh eases the cigarette from your fingers, "but it's like he has no idea the effect he's had on me for over a decade now. Yeah, I'm my own person, I have hobbies and friends outside of him, but -"

"You're a service bottom and desperately in love," Farleigh cuts in with a surprisingly sage tone, nodding like he hadn't absolutely called you out. Shocked with his vulgar kind of accuracy, you practically shove him out of the bed, laughing that he needs to fuck off, and the discussion is left at that.

The next morning, sitting down to breakfast, Duncan quietly informs Sir James that there had been a disturbance during the night. Immediately you throw Farleigh under the bus and declare that it's his fault.

"Hey!" He shouts back, grinning, "it takes two to fuck in the kitchen!" Which has all four of you, Venetia, Felix, Farleigh, and yourself, cracking up with laughter as Elspeth and Sir James were exasperated by your collective antics.

There is so much affection in Felix's eyes in this moment, this simple, strange moment of admitted sexual deviance. Except it's never felt like that to either of you. It's one of the ways you've both shown love, and he loves that you love those closest to him.

And you love to make him happy.

Farleigh was right, not that you'd ever tell him.

[userautumn]

i thought you would be happy with buck getting his oh moment and realizing his feelings for eddie but i guess you really were sucked into the bucktommy fanon created huh. Shame that you won't be able to enjoy canon buddie when it happens.

This is the only message I am going to answer about this specifically since I initially brought the topic up on my blog.

So, first of all, by definition, BuckTommy isn't fanon. Fanon is a ship or character that is completely generated by fandom. Buddie, for example, is fanon. Although they share a strong platonic bond, their relationship is not textually romantic. They do not kiss. They are not textually established romantic partners. Eddie said in the last episode that he is straight. So Buddie only exists within a fandom context. Conversely, BuckTommy is established as canon. Buck has touched mouths with that man on-screen. They were established as boyfriends and, now, ex-boyfriends. So it is, quite literally, impossible for BuckTommy to be fanon, even if fans do extrapolate, embellish, or reconstruct that relationship for their own pleasure. So, that's number one.

Number Two: According to this fandom, Buck and Eddie have had their oh moments a combined total of six times now at least (3x15, 3x03, 4x13, and 5x11, to name a few) and absolutely nothing concrete has come out of these events. The shooting is the closest we ever got, and that was four seasons ago. I don't begrudge anyone for reading that moment at the end of tonight's episode within a romantic Buddie context. Go absolutely nuts and have fun with it. But to me, that moment, such as it was, was more of the same - Buck or Eddie look at each other a certain way, or have evident (non-romantic) feelings related to the other, fandom loses their minds, they speculate, convince themselves they're right, nothing happens, rinse and repeat. I'm personally tired of the spin cycle.

I said I wanted strides toward Buddie canon to be made crystal clear and that's still true. You clearly see things differently (and that's alright), but outside the Buddie fanfiction hivemind, tonight's episode was not crystal clear. There was no discussion of Buck's feelings. He didn't vent them to Maddie or Bobby or Eddie himself. He didn't say, out loud, or indicate in any explicitly romantic way that he has feelings for Eddie. Buck having feelings about Eddie leaving is not the same as having feelings for him. They are best friends. They are family, actually. If Eddie leaves, Buck is losing the anchor to his support system and his (pseudo-)son. That's a big deal. That is an extraordinary weight to carry, especially on the heels of a significant breakup, and especially while dealing with abandonment issues. There was nothing romantic about that and, reducing that moment to a romantic reading, seems... odd. To me.

I'd like to think I'd still be able to enjoy Canon Buddie if it happens tbh. I actively write fic about those two in my spare time even though I keep my conversations about them to the DMs. But if I'm not able to enjoy it, it won't be because of the ship itself, it will be because I finally tired of the abject cruelty that's cropped up in this space. There's this unspoken rule in fandom that what happens during hiatus stays in hiatus, and we all just silently agree to move on from it when the show comes back. But I'm having a hard time with that this year because I've seen and experienced some absolutely insane things from this fandom the last few months that have stuck with me. So. Maybe I won't still enjoy it, but I hope I will.

I was really angry with the (non-Buddie related) content of this episode when you messaged me, so you probably thought or hoped I would bitch and curse you out, and we'd do this whole back and forth thing that would inevitably lead to you getting blocked. But I meant what I said - I have no interest in arguing with anyone about this show. We're not going to agree, and that's okay. I'm not your inspirational Buddie Warrior, and that's also okay. I have too much to deal with than to actively engage in internet beef. What is is what is, whether you or I or both or neither of us like it, and arguing about it isn't going to change it. So we might as will just learn to live with it and each other as best as we can.

I'm going to go watch TV now.

[august-anon]

Brotherly Duties

Hey hey, @rosiesramblings! I cannot tell you how excited I was to be your @squealing-santa this year!! This fic was so fun to write and I love it a lot, so I hope you love it too!

When I saw your 3 prompts, along with your request for ler!Dick and lee!any-of-his-little-brothers, my brain went "Why Not All Three, Though?" So here's your batbrothers fic, featuring all 3 baby brothers and all 3 prompts! I may have gotten a little carried away lol

And also, a huge thank you to @cantsaythetword for hosting this year's @squealing-santa! You are hugely appreciated, Crow! I know hosting this event is no easy feat, especially with tumblr seemingly trying to block all avenues of communication. We all really appreciate you!!

(also obligatory warning to all that my characterizations are still very fanon-based, as I have been too busy to delve much into comics just yet lol)

____________________________

Brotherly Duties

Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity)

Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Jason, Damian, and Tim & Ler!Dick

Word Count: 6846 words

Summary: Whether it's to get his siblings to take a break or to stop them from being obnoxious little shits, Dick's patented brother-wrangling techniques are always successful.

[ao3 link]

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Dick didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing Jason back in the Manor again.

He was used to forcing brotherly bonding by breaking into one of Jason’s safehouses, or cajoling Jason until he agreed to drop by Bludhaven for a movie night, with or without their other siblings. When Jason started dropping by the Batcave every once in a while, even if it was originally just to steal gear and gadgets from Bruce, Dick thought he might cry. Bruce almost did. And Dick finally did cry the first time he entered the Cave to find Jason giving Tim a few pointers on the sparring mats, because despite all the sarcasm and their argumentative tones, they were bonding.

Alfred, the miracle worker, was the first one to get Jason back upstairs, if only for a brief moment to pick up a care package that Alfred had put together for him. And once Jason had gotten through that first hurdle, it slowly got easier and easier to convince him to head upstairs for a bit, until Alfred had convinced him once more to start joining in on family dinners.

So walking into the den and seeing Jason engaged in a Mario Kart tournament with their baby brothers? Dick had to swallow that swell of emotion damned fast before any of them called him out for tearing up. And then he promptly vaulted over the back of the couch to prove who the real Mario Kart champion is.

Except, after (losing) only a couple more races, Damian was called away by a disappointed Bruce – apparently he had some big test coming up that he was meant to be studying for, but he’d snuck away to play video games with Jason and Tim instead. 

Tim himself only lasted one more (lost) race after that before flitting off himself. Dick knew he was sneaking off to do some work, whether it was for their nighttime cases or something to finish up for W.E., despite the fact that he’d practically been ordered to take a break for the day. Dick also knew he was completely taking advantage of the fact of Jason being here, because Dick hated having to walk away when Jason was right there and willing to spend time with them and was unlikely to follow after and make Tim rest.

But Dick decided to let it slide, just this once. It’s not like he could reach his usual state of overworked before Alfred called them all for family dinner, and Dick could always force him to take a break later. Even if he had to sit on the kid so that he couldn’t reach his laptop. It wouldn’t be the first time.

And then it was just Dick, Jason, and the Nintendo Switch.

“You gonna back out, too?” Dick taunted, raising an eyebrow at Jason.

Jason scoffed, settling more firmly against the arm of the couch, bringing his socked feet up to rest on the cushions. It was a position he took up often when they played video games or watched movies here in the den when Jason was still a short, scrawny kid, all curled up like a cat despite being ready to spring up at any moment. It looked a little silly now, someone as large as Jason tucking his feet up like that, but it made Dick’s heart ache anyway.

“As if,” Jason said. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Dick couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, because you’ve been doing such a good job of that so far. Remind me, Jay, how many races have you won since I got here?”

Jason grumbled something that sounded rather like “shut the fuck up, Dickface,” clutching his controller closer to his chest. “Just pick the next race, already.”

Dick chose a track at random and settled in against his arm of the couch, locking into the race. Though it was a close race, Jason staying on his tail the entire time, Dick still won the race. And the next one. And the one after that. Dick couldn’t help but laugh, even as Jason fumed.

Jason chose the next track without a word, refusing to even look in Dick’s direction. Dick couldn’t wipe the grin off his face if he tried, and broke into even more laughter as Jason’s kart failed the startup boost and burst into a cloud of smoke. His laughter was quickly cut off as a foot jabbed into his arm, jostling him and making his own kart almost fly off the track.

“Hey!”

“What?” Jason said, as if he wasn’t stretched across the couch (curse his stupid Lazarus Pit induced growth spurt), and he shoved at Dick’s arm again.

“Cut it out, Jason!”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

Another light kick, this time to Dick’s hands in an attempt to knock the Joycon out of them. Dick cursed, barely keeping the controller from going flying, and Jason crowed as he pulled into the lead.

“Take that, Dickwing!”

“Jason!”

“What?”

Another kick, Dick just barely managing to evade it as he tried to regain first place. Jason’s second foot came into play then, one continuously jostling the arm nearest to Jason while the other tried to knock the controller from Dick’s hands. Dick couldn’t even fight Jason off, because he’d chosen a track with too many twists and turns to take his hands off the controller for too long. When the foot dedicated to shoving at Dick missed his arm and instead jabbed a toe into his ribs (which Dick totally didn’t flinch at, thank you very much), the solution came to Dick all at once.

He just hoped the Lazarus Pit hadn’t made his baby brother any less ticklish.

“That’s it,” Dick snapped at the next kick as he paused the game, grabbing an ankle in the same motion.

“Shit, wait!” Jason’s voice had gone hilariously high pitched, and he started kicking at Dick for a whole new reason. “Dick!”

“I’m not waiting for shit – you deserve this.”

Dick skittered his fingers against the socked sole in his grip and Jason grunted, sealing his lips shut. Unfortunately, Jason was a lot stronger now than he had been at thirteen, and he was easily able to rip his ankle out of Dick’s grip. He spared a moment to shove Dick into the arm of the couch with both feet before rolling over, trying to crawl over the arm of the couch to escape – as if that was somehow a better plan than just standing up from the couch and leaving.

Either way, it gave Dick the perfect opportunity to launch himself forward and sit across the backs of Jason’s thighs. Jason spat out a curse, kicking and twisting and bucking to try and throw Dick off to no avail.

“Get your fat ass off of me!”

Dick tutted, a habit he had slowly started picking up from Damian without realizing. “You’re gonna owe Alfred so much money in the swear jar by the time I’m done with you.”

Jason gave up on squirming, shooting Dick an absolutely lethal glare over his shoulder. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Mhm,” Dick said, absently, cataloguing Jason’s body language and facial expressions. “Sure.”

As skilled as Jason might have been at burying his thoughts and feelings (they were both trained by the Batman, after all), Dick was better at prying them out. Not only was Jason his first baby brother, as fraught as their relationship has been over the years, but he was the first son of the World’s Greatest Detective. Jason couldn’t hide those reactions from him.

The laughably awful escape plan, the lack of tension in Jason’s eyebrows, the twitching at the corners of Jason’s mouth. His nose wasn’t even scrunched up in anticipation of a snarl, which always happened when Jason was starting to get pissed off. Plus, while Dick could certainly take Jason in a fight (he’d been in the vigilante business a lot longer, after all), it’s not like he was extending a lot of effort into their little play tussle. If Jason had really wanted to throw Dick off earlier, he would have.

Jason was having fun.

And who was he to deny his little brother some silly goofing off? God knows Jason needed it.

And so Dick didn’t hesitate a second longer, reaching out to vibrate his fingers into the middle of Jason’s ribcage. Jason didn’t bother clamping his lips shut this time, instead burying his face into the couch as he let out a giggly yelp. His legs kicked out behind Dick, drumming against the couch cushions, and he tried to squeeze his arms against his sides for protection despite how awkward his position made it.

“Aww, Little Wing!” Dick couldn’t help but tease. “I think you’re even more ticklish now than when you were a kid.”

Jason peeled his face up from the cushion just long enough to shout a wobbly “Shut the fuck up!” before planting his face back in the fabric.

Dick laughed, squeezing sporadically up and down Jason’s sides just to watch him wiggle around like a frantic little worm. When they were younger, he used to curl up like a little pill bug whenever Dick or Bruce would tickle him, knees up to his chest and arms wrapped around his torso like it could ever save him from their wiggling fingers. It had never worked, of course – and was even less help to him when they realized just how ticklish Jason’s back was.

Speaking of…

Dick pulled his hands back, giving Jason a half-second of a breather, before delivering a series of sporadic, nibbling pinches traveling up Jason’s back. This time Jason shrieked, his legs scrabbling even harder at the cushions since they couldn’t curl up, and he reached back to try and slap at Dick’s hands. Being all bulky muscle now, he couldn’t quite contort that far anymore, so instead he settled for slapping at Dick’s knee.

“You dick!”

“Well, that is my name, Jay. Don’t wear it out.”

“You’re so fucking stupid!”

“I hope you know I’m keeping track so I can tell Alfred later. You’re up to at least six dollars, and that’s not even counting before I started tickling. You’re gonna get the disappointed grandpa look.”

Jason picked his head up to retort, but Dick chose that moment to start poking just below his shoulderblades, following along the edges of them. Instead of cursing Dick out again, he tumbled into bubbly giggles and shimmied his shoulders to try and throw off the attack. Dick laughed again, switching to prodding at the edges of Jason’s armpits.

“What’s-a-matter, Little Wing? Does that tickle? You regret messing with me yet?”

Jason’s laughter spiked, but it had nothing to do with the tickling. “You kidding me?” He warbled through his laughter. “I died, I’m not gonna break for a little tickling, Dickhead.”

Dick frowned at the death joke (he didn’t think he’d ever feel comfortable with Jason joking about it), but narrowed his eyes as the rest of the sentence hit him. He paused his fingers, but even though his panting giggles, Jason still kept trying to (very obviously half-heartedly) wiggle his way out.

“Oh, yeah?”

Something about his tone made Jason freeze in place. Jason slowly turned to look over his shoulder, making eye contact with Dick (bright, smiling eyes, and so full of life).

“Dick.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Jason.”

“Come on, man.”

Dick’s other eyebrow jumped up. “You wanna be tickled that bad?”

Jason’s eyes went wide and he started wiggling again. “Wait– no!”

Dick chuckled and wormed his fingers under Jason’s body, settling his fingertips into the divots beside Jason’s hip bones.

“Any last words?”

“Um. Sorry?”

“Hmm. I don’t think you are, though.”

And Dick dug his fingers in, squeezing at Jason’s hips mercilessly. The noise Jason let out was almost a scream before he fell into hysterical, hiccuping cackles. His body went limp under Dick, giving up on fighting or even trying to pill-bug for protection as he laughed himself hoarse.

“Are you sorry now, you little shit?”

Jason managed a mangled “swear jar” through his guffaws.

Dick grumbled, but couldn’t help but grin. It had been so long since he’d gotten to goof off with Jason like this. It felt like something inside him was finally clicking back into place, the final piece left to settle his soul ever since getting Jason back.

“Okay!” Jason wheezed, knocking Dick out of his thoughts. “Okay, I’m sorry!”

Dick chuckled, but stopped immediately. He swung a leg over Jason so he was no longer straddling him, but sitting against the back of the couch with his legs tossed over the backs of Jason’s legs. Jason panted and giggled and finally curled up like the little pill bug he was. Dick reached out and rubbed a hand up and down his back to help him calm down.

Jason’s eyes had drifted shut as he recovered, but Dick caught a shadow lurking out of the corner of his eye. Glancing up, he saw Bruce hovering in the doorway to the den, eyebrows drawn in worry. Dick inwardly winced, recalling the frantic scream Jason had let out only a few minutes before. He couldn’t exactly blame Bruce for coming running at the noise – and clearly just back from the office too, based on his attire.

 But Dick just grinned at Bruce, winking and wiggling the fingers of his free hand in explanation. Bruce’s face cleared, his mouth twitching up briefly in amusement (what would likely be a chuckle on anyone normal) as his eyes melted in that fond way they tended to whenever Dick or his siblings did something Bruce found particularly endearing. Dick had to look away, always feeling oddly vulnerable under that gaze, and after a few more moments of staring, Dick saw Bruce’s shadow retreat. The warmth his smile had left in Dick’s chest had not.

“You know, Dickie,” Jason said, having finally caught his breath, “one of these days, one of us is gonna get you back.”

Dick laughed, briefly clawing up Jason’s back just to hear him squeal again before going back to rubbing it soothingly. “Keep telling yourself that, Little Wing.”

Jason scoffed. “You better watch your back. I’m bigger than you now, and I remember all your tickle spots too.”

The warmth still sitting in Dick’s chest turned into a swarm of butterflies. Fuck Bruce, actually, for tickling him in front of Jason often enough for that information to stick.

*    *    *    *    *

Apparently, being benched meant you couldn’t even run comms these days. Dick had to shove down the wave of frustration as Alfred shooed him away from the Batcomputer, as if a shoulder injury somehow meant he couldn’t operate a keyboard and talk into a microphone. He wasn’t an invalid, thank you very much. But Dick knew better than to argue with Alfred, and his tone brokered no room to do so as he told Dick to “go check on your brother.”

Because Dick wasn’t the only vigilante benched that night. 

And as Dick picked his way through the Cave, Alfred kicking him off comms suddenly made a lot more sense. He could hear heavy breathing coming from the training mats, the sound of grunts and fists meeting vinyl. Dick sighed and changed course, heading for the training area instead of the stairs. Of course Damian was frustrated with being benched. He wasn’t even hurt.

Dick watched Damian train for a few minutes. His face was creased with irritation, sweat dripping from his jaw and hairline. Dick could see where the exhaustion pulled at Damian’s limbs, making his form sloppy and imprecise (at least, sloppy and imprecise for a former assassin and a current Bat). He had his fists wrapped properly in tape, but Dick could see his boxing gloves abandoned at the edge of one of the training mats. The velcro strap on one of them was broken, but whether it was from overuse or Damian’s frustration was unclear.

“Shouldn’t baby bats be in bed this time of night?” Dick called out eventually, kicking off his slides to step onto the training mats.

“I should be out on the streets with Batman,” Damian ground out, throwing a particularly vicious punch at the bag.

Dick sighed again, making his way behind the punching bag to brace it for Damian. “You know the rules, kiddo. No patrol before school tests, not even a reduced one. You need your rest.”

“It is a waste of time! My classmates are imbeciles, I could take the exam high on fear toxin and still get the highest grade of them all.”

Dick bit back a reprimand, seeing as Damian would certainly not be receptive to it at the moment. He’d been doing better with his peers recently, anyway – he had even joined the art club and started making a few friends. It was more than likely his anger talking than any real malice.

“I know how smart you are, Dami, we all do. But Robin still has rules, and they’re there to look out for you.”

At least, most of the time. Dick could still easily recall just how stifling a number of Bruce’s rules could get, and Damian wasn’t the only Robin to ever feel held back by them.

But Damian just heaved out a large sigh, briefly resting his forehead against the punching bag. “I know.” He just as quickly pulled back, fixing the scowl back onto his face. “But that does not mean I should neglect my training. Just because I am forced to stay in for the night does not mean there aren't ways to improve myself.”

Dick pursed his lips and glanced at a nearby clock (analog – all the digital clocks had been removed from the cave shortly after Jason started re-integrating. Dick still didn’t know who was responsible). It wasn’t too late yet, and Dick was all too familiar with how vigilantism could screw up one’s sleep schedule. If he tried to force Damian into bed now, he’d just lie there awake for the next couple of hours. 

“Alright, Dami, we can train for a bit. But only for another 45 minutes, then it’s bedtime for baby bats.”

Damian scoffed and looked away, crossing his arms. “Tt. I do not need your assistance with my training. You’re still recovering.”

Dick rolled his eyes, then rolled his injured shoulder. It twinged a bit, but nothing like the pain when he had fumbled his grapple and almost wrenched it from its socket. “I’m fine – almost good as new! I can help you run through some drills, or work on your gymnastics.”

After some more prodding, Damian agreed to let Dick guide him through some new gymnastic and acrobatic moves, provided that Dick did not do anything to strain his arm and only stepped in when Damian needed it. They worked through a few flips and various ways to incorporate such moves into fighting. As always, Damian was a quick study.

And as always, Damian was far too stubborn and far too focused to quit when their time ran out.

“Dami, come on.” Dick rubbed at his eyes, feeling oddly tired himself despite the hours he usually kept. The injury must have taken more out of him than he realized, even as healed as it was. Maybe Bruce and Alfred were right to keep him benched for this long. “Time’s up, we can come back to it tomorrow when we’re fresh.”

Damian let out a frustrated growl. “I almost had it!”

“I know, buddy. And I bet you’ll get it even faster tomorrow, when you’re fresh and well-rested.”

Damian didn’t listen, continuing to try and execute the flip and only succeeding in flopping himself to the plush mats over and over.

“Damian.”

Damian did not budge. He flipped again, his body once again not reaching the rotation it needed to successfully execute the move. Except this time, Dick could track the trajectory – Damian would try to land on his feet, but at that angle… well, he would probably wind up benched for a lot longer than one school night.

Dick launched himself forward, managing to catch Damian around the middle to stop his momentum and halt the bad landing, but wrenched his injured shoulder in the process. He hissed a breath in through his teeth, hoping it was quiet enough that Damian didn’t hear, and lowered them both to the ground.

“I had it, Grayson!”

“No, you didn’t!” Dick snapped, then paused and took a couple deep breaths. Damian stayed quiet while he composed himself. “We’ll talk about what went wrong and how to prevent it tomorrow. Are you tuckered out yet?”

Damian crossed his arms. “If you’re so tired, then you go upstairs to bed. I’m fine to continue on my own.”

“Alright.” Dick took another slow breath to calm himself. “That’s it.”

Dick dug his fingertips into Damian’s sides, squeezing and wiggling away. Damian, clearly not expecting the sudden attack, had no hope for defense or hiding his reactions. He burst into boyish giggles instantly, slapping and shoving at Dick’s hands as he tried to wriggle away.

Dick grinned, the laughter of one of his baby brothers melting away his frustration faster than anything else ever could. “Maybe this’ll finally tire you out, huh?”

“Richard! Wait!”

Dick chuckled. “Why do you guys always tell me to wait? Wait for what, kiddo?” His hands converged on Damian’s belly, laughing along when his giggles got even squeakier. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna come to your rescue.”

Damian grumbled through his laughter, finally managing to wiggle out of Dick’s hold. “I don’t need a rescue, I can take care of myself!”

Dick let Damian retreat a few steps before hauling himself to his feet. He put on a show about it, stumbling around a bit and bringing one hand up to his head. “Uh oh, Baby Bat – better look out. I think I’m being taken over… by the Tickle Monster!”

Damian tried to scowl at him even as a goofy smile tugged at the edges of his lips. He clicked his tongue, watching Dick’s movements carefully. “Tt, the Tickle Monster isn’t real, Richard. I am too old for such childish games.”

Dick stumbled forward a few steps, reaching a jerking hand out to Damian. “Oh, save me, Dami! There’s only one thing that can help me now!”

Damian’s retreat faltered, one eyebrow raising in curiosity. “Which is?”

Dick grinned. Gotcha. “Your giggles!”

“I do not– Richard!!”

Dick laughed as he tackled Damian down to the mats, careful to twist them so he didn’t land on top of the boy or on his injured shoulder. He rolled so his own back was against the mats with Damian’s back flush against his chest, and made sure Damian was secure in one of his patented Octopus Grip hugs before resuming his attack. Damian burst back into silly giggles as one of Dick’s hands attacked his stomach, the other climbing up and down his sides and ribs sporadically. Every few seconds he would switch hands, and Damian squeaked each time without fail.

“What was that about not giggling, Baby Bat? What’s that I hear right now?”

“Shut up!”

Dick laughed, but laid off the teasing. The kid could only take so much playful embarrassment before he got genuinely upset, and Dick didn’t want to push it when he was already having such a frustrating night. He kept his tickling light, silly, and jumping, not wanting to overwhelm Damian on top of everything, but despite his squirming and protestations, there was no strain to his laughter or genuine undercurrent of anger in his threats.

Yeah, maybe Damian needed these giggles just as much as Dick did.

“Tuckered out now, kiddo? Tickle Monster’s happy to stick around if you’ve still got some energy to spend.”

“You’re ridiculous!”

“Well, in that case…”

Dick heaved them both up to a sitting position, barely giving Damian a moment of reprieve before reaching down to squeeze at the muscles just above his knees. Damian shrieked, laughter growing from giggles to guffaws. Though he kicked out to try and dislodge Dick’s hands, tugging at Dick’s fingers with his own, Damian still easily melted back into Dick’s chest as he laughed. Dick couldn’t help the fond smile that rose to his lips as he tapered the tickling off, pressing a kiss to the top of Damian’s sweaty head.

“Hit the showers, bud, then the hay. Got it?”

Damian huffed out a large sigh, clearly swallowing back residual giggles as he leaned even further back into Dick for a few moments. “Yes, Richard.” He hauled himself to his feet before holding out a hand to help Dick up. “Get an ice pack for your shoulder, and perhaps locate some anti-inflammatories before you head to bed as well.”

“I told you buddy, I’m fine–”

Damian shot him an unimpressed look. “I heard you when you saved me from injury, I know you aggravated it. I will tell Pennyworth if you don’t take care of it.”

Dick sighed, pulling Damian into a side hug with a gentle smile. “Always looking out for me, aren’t you, bud?”

Damian rolled his eyes, as if it was a stupid thing to take note of. “Of course. Just because you’re not Batman anymore doesn’t mean that stops.”

Dick pulled him in for a full hug at that. “You’ll always be my Robin, Damian.”

Damian hummed and gave him a quick squeeze before detangling himself from Dick’s limbs. “I’m serious,” he called over his shoulder on his way to the shower. “I’ll tell Alfred if you don’t take care of it.”

Dick grumbled under his breath, but obediently turned to head toward the medbay. If he wanted to help Damian perfect that flip tomorrow, then he needed to make sure his shoulder was as good as he could get it.

*    *    *    *    *

By the time Dick finished up his patrol and returned to the Batcave, Tim was already planted in the Batcomputer’s chair, hard at work despite the cast that now swallowed his left calf. Red Robin had taken a nasty hit on patrol, thrown full-force through an already-crumbling wall by an irate Killer Croc. Dick was just grateful that he hadn’t gotten hurt worse, walking away from that fight with only a broken leg was a near-miracle. Clearly Tim didn’t feel the same way, if his scowl was anything to go by.

Dick sighed and eyed the several Zesti cans littering the desk. Tim hadn’t even been back in the Cave for two hours. “Bruce is going to kill you. You know his rules about food and drink near the Batcomputer.”

Tim shrugged one shoulder, not bothering to turn around. “What B doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I needed the caffeine.”

“You should be resting, kiddo – Croc’s back in custody, it’s okay to take a break.”

“No time.” Tim waved him off. “Jason asked for my help tracking down some murders in Crime Alley, whoever it is is good. And Two-Face escaped last week and we’re no closer to finding him. Ivy’s seemed jittery lately, despite how well she and Harley had been doing, so I need to keep an eye on both of them. And I’ve got this case for the Teen Titans –”

“Whoa, Timmy – take a breath. Not all of that has to get done tonight.”

Tim took a deep breath in, then suddenly finally turned to look at Dick. His face was twisted in disgust, wrinkled button nose and all. 

“You smell like shit.”

“Gee, I wonder why. Who could we possibly know that frequents sewers around here?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Go take a shower, I can’t focus with you stinking up the place.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’ll just stay right here, then. Drive you out with the smell so you can finally get some sleep.”

“I’m fine – I’m not even tired.”

“Tim, your eyebags have eyebags – just looking at you is making me tired.”

“Then maybe you should go to bed.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting Tim to take a break was nearly impossible, and he didn’t know if he had the energy or patience for it tonight after dealing with Croc. He was glad that Batman and Robin were handling things with the GCPD, letting Nightwing head back first.

“Look,” Dick said, keeping his voice light and level. “You have until I’m in civvies to clean up the desk and finish up, and then we’re both heading up to bed – even if I have to carry you up there.”

“Mhm, yeah, Dick. Sure.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at the back of Tim’s head. “I will sit on you.”

“Good luck with that.”

Dick held in another sigh and made for the locker rooms, snatching up some solvent for his mask along the way. He took his time in the shower for once, forcefully scrubbing the sewer stench off his body while letting the hot water ease the aches and pains from getting thrown around like a ragdoll. When he was finished and dried, he pulled on a soft, warm pair of sweatpants and broke into Jason’s locker to steal an oversized sweatshirt (it wasn’t like Jason used the Cave’s locker room often enough to miss his clothes – Alfred always washed and replaced them before Jason even noticed). 

Smelling fresh and feeling cozy, Dick emerged from the steaming locker room and back into the chill of the Batcave. Tim hadn’t moved an inch in the time he was gone, still hunched over the Batcomputer. In fact, Dick could swear there were even more cans of Zesti than when he had left. Where was he even hiding it all? There was no way Alfred allowed that much soda into the Manor, let alone the Batcave.

“Come on,” Dick said, jostling Tim’s chair as he approached. “Let’s take care of these cans and catch some Z’s.”

Tim didn’t dignify him with a response, only throwing him a bloodshot glare. Dick took a careful breath and switched tactics. Flippant sometimes worked with Tim, depending on his mood, but it was more the tactic to use on Jason. Tim, attention-starved little gremlin that he was growing up, historically responded a lot better to affection – so long as it didn’t feel like coddling.

So Dick carefully leaned up against the back of his chair, reaching down to squeeze gently at Tim’s shoulders to try and get him to release some of the tension there. “Alright, bud. Anything I can help with?”

Tim shot him a hesitant look. “Not really. I’m mostly just combing through security footage for Jason, right now.”

Dick hummed, turning his squeezing into more of a shoulder massage. “Two sets of eyes are better than one, right? Let me help – you’ll get it done faster, which means you’ll get some rest sooner.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“Never too tired for you, Baby Bird.”

Some of the tension bled out of Tim and he blinked heavily before turning back to his screens. Instead of pulling up one of the spare office chairs they had tucked away exactly for this purpose, Dick continued to lean up against the back of Tim’s. It left him with easy access to Tim’s neck, shoulders, and upper back – all places he carried immense amounts of tension from hunching over computers and laptops just like this. He kept up the gentle massage as they reviewed Crime Alley’s limited CCTV, and despite Tim’s evident frustration with their lack of progress, his shoulders stayed relaxed under Dick’s ministrations.

After a while, Dick switched up tactics. One of his hands travelled down to rub at the gooseflesh along Tim’s arms, thanks to him only wearing an oversized t-shirt in a literal cave (though, notably, it was one of Dick’s soft old t-shirts, clearly stolen from his locker just like Dick stole from Jason’s, and something about that made his heart melt). The other hand travelled up, combing through Tim’s hair and scratching gently at his scalp. After a few passes, Dick could feel Tim fighting off the urge to go completely boneless. A careful peek over the chair and Tim’s shoulder showed his eyelids fluttering as well, valiantly trying not to close completely.

“I know what you’re doing,” Tim grumbled.

“Oh?” Dick’s voice was low and quiet, as soothing as he could make it. “Do you, now?”

“Yes. And it’s not gonna work.”

Dick hummed. “Seems like it’s working to me.”

Tim frowned, bracing himself for a moment, and pulled away from Dick’s hands, rolling the chair closer to the desk to try and create some space between them. Dick’s blunt fingernails caught on the nape of Tim’s neck as he rolled away, earning him a rather adorable little squeak and a brief turtling of his shoulders.

Well, there was an idea.

Maybe a different method of brother-wrangling was in order.

“Well it’s not,” Tim said, clearing his throat and shaking his head immediately after, clearly trying to wake himself up.

Dick sighed, long and dramatic. “Then I’m afraid you’ve brought this upon yourself, Timmy.”

Tim whipped around to look at him, eyes wide. “Wait– what?”

Dick’s only answer was a mischievous smirk as he rolled the desk chair even further forward, until Tim’s chest was flush with the desk. No squirming away on his watch. He leaned up against the back of the chair (careful not to put too much pressure, lest he crush his baby brother) to prevent Tim from pushing back and set to work, skittering his fingers around Tim’s neck and ears. Tim, tired as he was, immediately burst into bubbly giggles, unable to bury them like usual. His shoulders hunched up as he chased after Dick’s hands with his own.

“Dick! Wait, no!”

“No more waiting, Baby Bird! I tried to be nice, but it looks like now you’re just gonna have to giggle yourself out. Let me know when you’re ready to take a break from working, yeah?”

Tim squealed again, thrashing in his seat as Dick dragged all his nails up the length of his neck, bursting back into giggles as Dick went back to spidering all over the delicate skin.

“That’s not fair!”

“‘Course it’s fair, Timmy! It’s practically Big Brother Law that I tickle you a certain amount per week. I’ve been slacking lately – gotta make up for lost time.”

Finally, Tim managed to latch onto Dick’s wrists, and Dick let him pull them away, if only for a moment. He panted and tried to pout up at Dick, but the expression was rather ineffective when he couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his face.

“Come on, just let me finish? Just thirty more minutes, I swear.”

Dick titled his head, pretending to consider the offer. “Mmmmm-nope!”

At a speed even the Flash would be impressed by, Dick twisted his hands out of Tim’s grip and shot them down between Tim’s body and the armrests of the chair. Expecting the worst, Tim shrieked before Dick had even touched him, plastering his arms down against his ribs.

No matter, Dick could easily come back for those later if Tim kept being stubborn. Dick instead targeted Tim’s hips, readjusting so he was attacking from either side of the chair rather than from above. Tim snorted, which made Dick laugh, which made Tim’s hands shoot up to cover his nose and mouth.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all this laughter.” Dick vibrated his hands into Tim’s stomach, making Tim burst out into full-bellied laughter. “Man, it’s so loud in here, huh? That echo really carries.”

“Dick!”

“Hey, could you keep it down? I’m trying to focus on this CCTV here and you’re really distracting me right now.”

“Fuck you!”

Dick laughed again. “Jason would be proud.”

Tim’s hands latched back onto Dick’s wrists. Success. Dick grinned down at the rats nest that was Tim’s hair and put his plan into action, slowly crawling up Tim’s sides. 

The thing was, having not been tickled much growing up, neither by the neglectful Drakes nor his friends, Tim was a bit inexperienced in how to defend himself. Despite Dick’s countless tickle attacks from the moment he named Tim his baby brother (long before the adoption papers came along), Tim had never really grown out of that.

For someone who was always thinking twelve steps ahead and had at least six contingencies for every possible outcome, Tim was on a rather one-track mind when he was tickled. Usually, that one track was simply Oh God, Stop Dick’s Hands. It was a sound line of logic – after all, if Dick’s hands stopped, so did the tickling. However, Tim rarely took into account how laughter weakened even the hardest-earned muscles and leached the coordination from even the most well-trained gymnasts. Dick knew from experience – he flopped around like a fish out of water when he got tickled. All this to say, Tim tended to forget that in trying to capture or push away Dick’s tickling fingers, he left open weak spots that were all-too-easy for Dick to exploit.

Like now, with Dick’s fingers slowly crawling onto his now-exposed lower ribs. Tim cackled and, based on the thumping coming from below the desk, was kicking his legs fiercely. He didn’t seem to realize that the higher Dick tickled, the higher his own arms went too, exposing all his worst tickle spots.

“Last chance, Baby Bird. Taking a break?”

“N-no! I have to finish–!”

Dick let out a fake sigh. “Then you leave me no choice, kiddo.”

Dick latched onto Tim’s upper ribs and Tim’s arms finally crashed back down, trying to launch a defense all too late. Tim wheezed before bursting into the loudest, most hysterical laughter Dick had ever heard anyone make (outside of Harley and the Joker, that was, but they were outliers and should not be counted). He tossed his head back against the chair and shook it, scrubbing his already messy hair into one big knot against the leather.

Even with Tim’s cheeks going an endearing tomato-red from the laughter, Dick didn’t stop. He knew Tim’s bull-headedness all too well for that. He poked and prodded, scribbled and scratched, searching around for those hidden little hyper-ticklish spots across Tim’s upper ribs and armpits with relative ease, despite the arms pressed against them.

“Okay!” Tim eventually shrieked. “Okay, okay!”

Dick didn’t stop his attack, but he did slow his fingers slightly. “‘Okay’ what?”

“I’ll – I’ll take a break!”

Dick blew a stream of air against Tim’s ear and neck, just to hear the squeaky snort he let out, his head jolting sideways for protection. “Hmm, I dunno if I believe that.”

“I promise! Dick, please!”

“Alright, alright.” 

Dick chuckled and pulled back, wheeling the chair away from the desk and turning Tim to face him. His face was flushed, his eyes were teary, and Dick wasn’t even sure if his hair was salvageable at that point or if Alfred would wind up having to cut some mats out. Still, the dopey smile remained plastered to Tim’s lips as he went completely boneless in the chair.

“You, Baby Bird, are sleeping all day tomorrow. Even if I have to sit on you.”

Tim blinked blearily at him. “Don’t you drive back to Blud tomorrow?”

Dick shrugged. “The city can survive another day without Nightwing. Not sure my baby brother can go on another day without Dick Grayson.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but didn’t correct him. Dick fought off a frown. Maybe he needed to make the drive from Bludhaven more often, if Tim was missing him enough to not give him shit. Or maybe Tim was just that tired.

Either way, Dick pushed the thought away for the night. Deciding the cans were a lost cause for the night (which, Tim was totally getting grounded from the Batcomputer for those), he leaned down and swept Tim into his arms, tossing Tim over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Tim squawked in protest.

“What are you doing?!”

“Cashing in on that break you promised – we are having a movie night, all curled up in your bed–”

“It’s covered in W.E. documents.”

“– all curled up in my bed with warm blankets and Alfred’s famous hot cocoa–”

“You’re just trying to get me to fall asleep.”

“You’ll keep beating sleep off with a stick if I leave you alone. If I can get you to rest with some hot cocoa, brother cuddles, and hair pets, then I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

“Oh no,” Tim snarked. “Dick Grayson being forced to cuddle, what ever will he do?”

Dick grinned and bit back a laugh, tweaking the back of Tim’s knee to make him yelp. “Watch it. Timmy. We can still go for round two.”

Tim grumbled under his breath, something about stupid big brothers and revenge, but Dick decided that could wait for another day. He had a baby brother to tuck into bed, and hopefully his own sleep to catch soon after.

[imthebadguyyy]

Something Just Like This

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.

part - i (part ii)

warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.

a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️

when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"

so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.

when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.

just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.

"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.

"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"

and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.

"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.

you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.

there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.

"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"

"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.

"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out

"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.

the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.

your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.

you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.

as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.

you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.

his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.

"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.

you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.

it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.

so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.

in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)

so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.

"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.

gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.

but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.

you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.

"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.

and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.

the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.

you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.

before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.

"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.

"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.

and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.

"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.

slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.

Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.

"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.

"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.

you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.

"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.

you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.

your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.

and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.

"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.

you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.

charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?

the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.

his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.

after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.

you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.

you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.

"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.

"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.

"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.

"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.

and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.

there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.

but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.

until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?

you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.

and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.

"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'

your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.

you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.

you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.

what you saw broke you.

charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.

your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.

you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.

you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.

later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.

"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"

"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.

"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.

there it was.

the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.

"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"

and he chose to take solace in your words.

just like he took solace in your soul.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.

so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.

and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.

p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.

and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.

rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.

"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.

when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.

and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.

when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.

so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.

"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"

"quoi?"

"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"

the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.

"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.

"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.

"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.

oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.

charles' heart ached.

oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.

later that day, you wrote the song feels like.

social media had a breakdown.

charles had a breakdown.

but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.

unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.

this songwriting thing was so frustrating.

it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.

with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.

but the ending caught your attention.

humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.

being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.

'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.

you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.

your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.

and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.

so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.

but you would know.

and so you sent it to be your next single.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.

you were sure the timing was right.

you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.

you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.

"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"

"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.

"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.

"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.

back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.

smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.

you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.

the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.

"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.

"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.

he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.

"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.

you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.

"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.

"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.

"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.

"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.

"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.

arthur pretended to be hurt.

"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"

"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.

arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.

"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.

you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.

and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.

your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.

but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!

i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.

feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷

hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo

taglist -

everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420

f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion

to be added to the taglist send me an ask, dm or comment 🩷

masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[tiredemmet]

I made a post about this thought years ago but I got submas on the brain rn (like always).

One of if not the main reason I love Ingo and Emmet, especially after the sygna event is that they love each other very much in a familial sense. These two characters go together, they are MEANT for each other. But it's all platonic, and that's very precious to me. It's like, there are so many character sets out there that are sexual or romantic so it's nice to have a set that aren't centered around a romantic/sexual relationship.

I never got into shipping in any fandom really, sometimes I think I ship characters but then I realize that I just want them to be best friends. Bizarre example to people who don't follow my other blogs, but I thought I shipped Dr. Von Goosewing with Count Duckula but honestly I just love the idea of an eventual truce and comradery.

I don't see aro/ace representation very often, and any characters that are close to each other are automatically deemed lovers by a lot of fans. It can get tiring when that's all you see. I used to like Good Omens (before the Neil Gaiman scandals) but I blocked the tag eventually because EVERYTHING. WAS. SEXUAL. Everything!!! Except maybe like three artists in the tag but it was all overshadowed by people sexualizing two characters that I saw as just best friends. Then season 2 happened and it was just fanservice let's be honest.

I digress. Anyways, that's why I love Ingo and Emmet and the tragedy of Legends Arceus. Their bond is very strong and it's nice to have a set of characters that has a strong majority of fans who don't sexualize their relationship. On that note, I can filter tags and block idiotic users so it stays that way. Lol.

[dreamingofthewild]

100 Bloodweave Fanfic recommendations

As there are over 3,000 Bloodweave fanfics, I have been wanting to do a fanfic rec list for a while. To share some of the works I enjoyed and to offer support for the talented writers in the fandom. I opted for 100, as it is a nice number for a rec list. It was very hard to narrow it down, and there are many good fics that, unfortunately, didn't make it too the list. This is not meant as a 'Top 100' list.

The recommendations will be shared in 6 parts as it is too much for one post.

Part 2: In Universe Canon One-Shots - 17 fics.

Of Jackpots and Sticky Fingers by Asidian. 2,736 words. Astarion and Gale encounter the Djinn at the Circus of the Last Days. Hijinks ensue.

Warding Bond by Haarlec. 4,136 words. Fluff and Angst. For Bloodweave Brainrot's 31 Gays of Summer - Day 4 - Shield. 

Dissonance by Quillscales. 2867 words. Manipulation, Implied/ Referenced DubCon. Tav attempts to manipulate Gale into participating in a fivesome with the drow twins and Halsin. Astarion isn't having it. Can be seen as romantic or platonic.

There's no Healing in not Feeling by amberxwrites. 2,872 words. The Araj scene, Tav being a jerk. Five times Gale questions Astarion about his relationship with Tav, and the one time he does something about it. Can be seen as romantic or platonic.

Starving by milestogo2. 7,276 words. Past Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts. Hurt/ Comfort. Gale comforts Astarion during a troubling time.

Veneficus Duellm by Aria_Lerendeair. 8,930 words. Gale challenges a group of wizards looking to kidnap Astarion and return him to Cazador to a wizard duel. I would also recommend this one to non-Bloodweave shippers. Gale gets to be badass and show how competent he is with magic.

Feebleminded by spAceArrow. 3,004 words. Hurt/ Comfort. Astarion is hit with the feebleminded spell. Gale helps.

a delicacy of undeath by shroomonabroom. 3,800 words. Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Angst, Mind the Tags. Gale finds an alternative cure to vampirism: a spawn needs to kill their Master and then consume their heart. Make sure that you have a tissue handy.

All those regrets we cannot bear by Astralia. 7,305 words. Angst, No Comfort, Smut. Gale and Astarion pushed each other towards ascension. They say the way to the Hells is paved with good intentions, and they both paid the price for it.

Like Broken Shards of Stained Glass by lividstatue. 3,089 words. Astarion sees himself for the first time in the Self-Same Trial. Gale attempts to be there for him, despite the gauntlet dredging up his past.

Counterspell by kimprobable21. 7,735 words. Fluff, Catching Feelings. Oh no, whatever is a simple rogue to do when their handsome wizard turns against the party, and they don’t have access to counterspell? There must be some way for Astarion to block the verbal and somatic components of Gale’s scorching ray…

Recipe for Disaster by fsaoud. 8,255 words. Angst, Fluff, Trauma. Inspired by that one line of banter where Astarion says that he pictured his return to Baldur's Gate to include days of hedonistic debauchery and Gale says that it sounds like a recipe for disaster but he is starting to enjoy the taste of chaos.

if my heart stops beating, we'll bleed the same way by AgentBuzzkill. 8,640 words. Hurt/ Comfort, Angst. Gale falls in battle during the fight with Lorrakan and Astarion does not take it well.

These marks will stay by Elowen. 8,434 words. New Relationship, Smut, Comfort. When Astarion loses his tadpole powers and is forced to flee from the sun, it is (to his surprise) Gale who follows him into the dark to offer comfort.

The Missing Piece by thealphaaxolotl. 10,811 words. Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Introspection. Astarion doesn't realize he has feelings for Gale until the wizard is taken by Orin.

The winding road to Waterdeep by LuckofTymora (FelixFelicis). 1,500 words. Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Grief/ Mourning. When Orpheus dies before they can reach the Crown of Karsus, Gale has no choice but to use the orb. Astarion isn't okay with this.

At Last by seagull_soda. 4,716 words. Hurt/ Comfort. The orb is stabilized and Gale gets to have a big ugly cry as a treat.

Part 1: In Universe Canon Multi-Chapter - 15 fics

Part 3: In Universe Canon Divergent - 16 fics.

Part 4: In Universe Post-Canon Multi-Chapter - 20 fics. 

Part 5: In Universe Post-Canon One Shots - 14 fics. 

Part 6: Alternate Universe - 18 fics.

[amberskywrites]

Power Outage

Fic Masterpost | Ao3 Link

Fandom / Genre: Stardew Valley / Angst with Ambiguous/Open/Hopeful Ending

Pairing: Maru & Sebastian

Prompt: Requested by @incendiarybomb :

Prompt list 19, #2 and #12 || 2) "I hate you." and 12) “Take my sweater, you’re freezing.” with Maru and Sebastian because these two deserve some sibling bonding time ;-;

Warnings: Hypothermia, Mildly toxic family relationships/Implied strained relationships, Near-death experience, lmk if I need to add more!

Note: I am. So ridiculously sorry for how long this took to get to. It also took a major turn from what I was expecting - but ultimately I'm satisfied and I hope you enjoy! I will say though, I definitely gotta spend more time with these two characters. Also. I live in a place that never snows, so this is definitely not accurate.

Summary: An unexpected blizzard leaves everyone in Pelican Town snowed in, and for Maru and Sebastian things take a turn for the worse.

There was a blizzard in Pelican Town.

Normally, this wouldn’t mean a thing. Everyone within this little town could handle a blizzard, freak weather phenomenons were nothing new. Sometimes it was a regular Tuesday, and everyone just went about their day. Sometimes a blizzard meant everyone gathering in the town square and just enjoying the frigid weather and bountiful snow.

This blizzard was decidedly not normal.

For starters, it was mid-spring.

And secondly…

“Dammit farmer…” Sebastian muttered, hanging up the phone and slumping over the shop counter. Of course the farmer somehow caused a blizzard by experimenting with magic alongside the creepy wizard. 

Wasn’t the guy supposed to keep them in check when it came to magic?

It was a Friday, and Sebastian had been planning on going to the saloon like usual, but the farmer had asked to stop by after closing for some “emergency materials” for a “top-secret” project. Judging by the patterns bought, Sebastian had money on it being something to embarrass Lewis.

Since his mom was working on the farm, and Demetrius had headed to the saloon anyway without her, and Maru had spent all day helping Harvey with appointments - and apparently scraping the farmer off the floor after they had over exhausted themself - his mom had asked if he would run the store for the day.

And now he was snowed in with Maru of all people indefinitely.

He huffed, pushing himself off the counter. There was no point in staying at the counter if no one was going to show up, the farmer had confirmed his mom was safe and a quick phone call to the saloon revealed they were all snowed in too, but all safe. He scribbled a note for Maru - because as much as he may not like Demetrius, Maru very much did, and she’d likely want to know both he and their mom were safe - and slipped it under her door before retreating to his room.

It was dark and even through his hoodie he shivered. The heating had kicked the bucket about an hour into the storm. He beelined for his closet and hauled the small, spare heater they kept in the house - or rather, one of two, this one designated to his closet because the other apparently took up too much space in the shed to put it with the other one.

Shoving it near his bed, Sebastian grabbed his gameboy and climbed under his covers to pass the storm more quickly.

---

A knock on his door stirred Sebastian from his near-sleep state, and he blinked at the bright light emitting from the gameboy just a few inches from his face. Groaning, he listened, but after a minute there was another more insistent knock.

It was still dark in his room, the window still blocked out by at least a few feet of snow. It couldn’t be his mom or Demetrius.

Sighing, he sat up. “Come in.”

Maru opened the door, holding a lantern in front of her. Sebastian blinked, taking in how small she looked, swallowed by a heavy blanket she had bundled around herself.

“Yeah…?”

“Um,” Maru started, tightening the blanket in one hand and trying to adjust her glasses at the same time. “The heater upstairs isn’t working. I was wondering…”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her when she trailed off and didn’t finish, just looking at his heater. He wasn’t going to give it to her and freeze himself down here.

After seeming to realize he wasn’t going to answer, she swallowed and looked back at him. “I was wondering if I could stay down here with you and the one that works?”

“Oh,” Sebastian slumped slightly, before shrugging. He didn’t think she’d want to stay down here with him. “Sure, I guess.”

She brightened, shuffling further into his room and settling on the floor by his bed, close enough to get some heat from the heater without pressing directly against it. Sebastian watched her hunker down into her blanket, making herself as small as possible to wrap it more securely around as much of herself as she could. On her lap she left enough room for a book, and left the lantern close enough for her to see the text somewhat okay.

Maru didn’t say anything else, so Sebastian resettled under his own blankets to resume his game.

---

The silence didn’t last as long as Sebastian would have liked.

About half an hour after invading his room, he could feel Maru staring at him. When ignoring her didn’t make her stop, he finally looked up with a huff. “What?” he finally snapped out.

She seemed rather tense, like she was trying not to move too much. “Nothing, just - having the heater that close to your bed is a safety hazard.”

“So? I’m cold, it’s keeping me warm.”

“I know, but if it sets your blankets on fire-”

Sebastian sighed loudly, and moved the heater away from his bed. “I hate you,” he said as he moved it a few inches, no real heart in the words. “Better?” he asked when it was finally in a better place.

Maru wasn’t looking at him anymore, but her blanket bundle shrugged, and she rehid herself under the massive thing.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and got back to the game.

A few minutes later, there was a quiet murmur of words that Sebastian just barely heard.

“I just want you to be safe.”

Sebastian grimaced at how small her voice sounded, and the sniffle that followed only made him flinch a little more. Sure, he made his distaste for her pretty common knowledge, but that didn’t mean he liked causing her to cry. But what would she even be crying about-

Oh.

But she didn’t really believe him, did she? Surely not.

But also…

He supposed he never really gave her any idea otherwise.

Maru didn’t say anything else.

Sebastian didn’t dare open his mouth again lest he just dig himself a deeper hole.

Eventually, they both fell asleep.

---

The thing about the heaters they owned was, they were small. And old. And meant to work alongside a burning fire - or rather, run when they couldn’t safely burn a fire while they slept. It wasn’t meant to run for an entire night. They’d learned that ages ago, when they had run them an entire night and woke up to them dead and needing some internal repairs.

Sebastian woke up cold, and when he opened his eyes, his room was somehow even darker. Squinting, he fumbled around for his gameboy just so he could illuminate a bit of his room, and cast it around.

He cursed under his breath at the sight of the dead heater, the supplies to get it working again in the shed that they definitely couldn’t get out to at this moment. It wasn’t smoking, so Sebastian figured it was relatively fine - it wasn’t broken completely, it didn’t decide to combust.

He turned his light towards where he last knew Maru to be, and wasn’t too surprised to still see her bundled under her blanket. But what he was surprised to see was her awake and shivering. She looked up towards him when he cast the low light onto her, and her glasses were off her face. She blinked slowly at him, breathing slowly, and he could see her breath - he hadn’t realized it was quite that cold, hadn’t processed seeing his own breath.

“Maru?” he asked, sitting up straighter. She just blinked at him again, her brow furrowing slightly but not by much. A harsh shudder ran through her, but she didn’t pull the blanket tighter around her. “Maru, are you alright?”

“I…” she said slowly and quietly, “I don’t…” she trailed off, and he watched her try to speak, but the words were jumbled and too quiet for him to hear over the sudden rushing in his own ears.

He scrambled out from under his own blankets to the floor in front of her, hesitating only a moment before he pressed his hands lightly to her cheeks, then her neck, feeling for her pulse, her own voice filling his memories from ages ago when she was first learning about medical science and preparing to apply to be Harvey’s assistant.

He ignored how cold her skin was to the touch, how she barely tried struggling away from his own frigid fingers - or rather, she tried, but all she managed to do was barely shuffle herself away, slumping against his bed more than anything.

Shivering. Difficulty speaking. Slow breath. Weak pulse…

He cursed, louder this time. He racked his brain, looking around his room - but his room probably wouldn’t help at all. Less chance for cold to creep in compared to upstairs, where the wood was a good defense against the cold but had more crevices where it could slip in compared to his basement guarded by being underground. But the cold had already seeped in here, and once it was in it never left.

They wouldn’t be able to light a fire, but maybe he could get her warm again faster upstairs?

But wasn’t moving someone also dangerous?

Maru’s head fell forward suddenly, and Sebastian jolted, catching her. She was so cold.

He shook her, gently. “Maru, come on. You gotta stay awake. You know better.” She blinked her eyes open as he pushed her back a little, and after a beat she nodded ever so slightly, sighing with a harsh tremor. “Hold on, okay? Just. Here, take my sweater for now, okay? You’re freezing.” He shimmied out of his sweater, and with minor difficulty slipped it over her head.

“Okay,” he mumbled, barely feeling the cold sting his now exposed arms. “Okay. This is fine, just… next step.” He swallowed thickly, just staring at Maru shiver and trying to remember how she described helping someone experiencing hypothermia.

He growled in annoyance at himself, as he seemingly could think of everything other than what he actually needed to remember, and he reached up to pull at his hair just to see if that would get his brain working.

She stared right back at him, her face pulling into what he thought to be her mildly frustrated scrunchy face, but it wasn’t as expressive as that, her face was probably so cold she could barely feel her muscles struggling to move. She was trying to say something, and it took Sebastian a good 30 seconds to understand what she was trying to mumble.

“fl…at.. la…y..ured…”

He blinked at the slow, slurred words, but after a moment it clicked and he jolted up off the ground. “Flat- you need to lie flat, okay. And layers. Right.” He looked around his room and cringed, again wondering if it was best to stay down here.

But she needed to lay flat, he needed to lie her down flat, and the memory of her stressing “Gently. Handle gently,” rang in his ears. Carrying her upstairs would be anything but gentle.

Would it even be warmer up there?

He shook his head. He should get her as warm as he could right now, and see if he could move her after she wasn’t in so much danger of freezing to-

He squashed that thought immediately.

“Okay,” he said again, just to fill the silence. He darted for his dresser and pulled out as many warm clothes he had, pulled his extra hoodies off his hangers, and retreated back to Maru, dropping them into a pile beside her. He hesitated for only a second before unzipping a few of his looser hoodies and reaching for her, slowly working them around her, pulling the hoods up and drawing the hoods closed as much as possible without obscuring her face. “Okay, he repeated. “I’m going to move you, alright? In a second. I’m gonna- these are gonna be between you and the floor, along with your blanket, them I’m gonna move you.”

And he did just that, spreading the remaining warm clothes over the floor after tugging on a single jacket for himself, and wrapping Maru’s blanket more securely around her shoulders, he moved behind her and eased her back onto his chest. Very slowly, with arms holding her steady, he leaned down with her just to ensure he didn’t move her too harshly, and carefully moved out from under her so he could lay her down on the clothes.

He pulled his blankets and sheets off his bed too, ignoring anything that clattered off for the moment, and laid it all over Maru. He stared at her, clenching his fists, trying to think if there was anything else he could do.

More blankets, he thought, because even if his blanket and hers were thick, they were just two blankets. He’s sure his mom and Demetrius wouldn’t care if he snagged theirs in a rush if it meant helping Maru.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, keeping his voice low even though there was no reason to. But it felt like if he spoke any louder, he’d somehow hurt her more.

He dashed up the stairs, to his mom’s room, and yanked off with slight difficulty the heavy quilt and sheets. Bundling them into his arms, he was about to dart back down to Maru, but he paused just as he was about to pass the lab.

Didn’t they have a first aid kit in there?

Would it have anything that could help?

It was worth checking, wasn’t it?

He glanced to the stairs before dropping the blankets for now, and booked it into the lab, swiftly opening all the cabinets he could until he found the first aid kit they did keep in there, because his mom refused to let them into the lab until they got one.

Sebastian grunted as he hauled the blankets back into his arms and raced as quick as he dared down the stairs. He dropped everything near Maru and set to work draping the extra blankets across her, and even grabbing his pillow and taking off the pillowcase just to put something around the top of her head where the blankets didn’t quite reach well enough.

She was still shaking, and breathing somewhat slow, but already it wasn’t quite as slow as before. He settled close enough to her head that he could see her face, and was struck by the fact that his gameboy was still the only thing giving light into his room.

He glanced around, and spotted the lantern she had brought in, knocked over in his haste to get everything out of the way. He reached and dragged it closer, flicking it on and keeping it close. Then he remembered his phone.

It was, miraculously, still on his nightstand. He didn’t get up from Maru’s side, just stretched to grab it before hunching over and turning it on. He hoped he could still get service despite the power knocked out and being in his room.

He pulled up the clinic’s emergency line, hoping Harvey hadn’t gone to the Saloon that night, and clicked call.

The ringing was agonizing even as he busied himself with pulling the first aid kit into his lap and starting his way through it, even if he might not be sure what he was looking for inside it.

Harvey sounded tired when he answered, but alert enough, and Sebastian guessed it was because of the emergency phone in the clinic going off. He didn’t pay attention to what Harvey actually said at first.

“Maru’s got hypothermia,” Sebastian said, hunching further into himself and technically over Maru. She was still awake, luckily. “I- we’re snowed in, and the power’s out, and the heaters broke. When I woke up, she was freezing. I got her blankets and as many of my hoodies and coats I could get. Is there anything else I can do?”

Harvey was very, very quiet for a lot longer than Sebastian liked. But when he finally responded, voice a little higher pitched and worry clear in his voice, the frustration Sebastian felt dissipated just slightly.

“You’ve done well, Sebastian. Stay with her. I… I also seem to be snowed in for the time being, but I think Lewis or Marnie may have something that could clear snow. I’ll call them as soon as I can and get you guys out of there. If you have a first aid kit in the house, see if there’s any warm compresses. Apply to her face or chest, do not under any circumstances put them on her arms or legs, as much as they may be freezing, it will only cause more harm. Stay with her. Have you called your parents?”

“Not yet. I- Demetrius is at the saloon, Mom’s at the farm.”

“Alright, I’ll call Demetrius after calling Marnie and Lewis, you see if there are any warm compresses and call the farmer.”

“Don’t Marnie and Lewis go to the saloon on Fridays?”

“Marnie already called me earlier asking for advice on keeping Jas warm, she’s home. Now call your mom, let her know what’s going on, and I’ll call you with news about what’s going to happen from there. Continue getting Maru warmer, slowly.” 

The phone clicked off as Harvey hung up, and Sebastian dialed the farmer’s number. Once it was ringing, he kept the phone between his shoulder and ear and now looked through the first aid kit with a purpose, sifting through until he could hopefully find some compressors. 

All he could really do now was hope for the best.

[arty-holly]

I never thought I'll enjoy Ep Nagi so much, but this spinoff has me feeling all kinds of things.

Stalker Reo 😭. The extents he goes to be Nagi's friend. Nagireo was never my thing, but I'm starting to see the appeal.

I think we as a fandom collectively ignore how funny Nagi is. The "legs broken" , " cells dead" 😂, Relatable icon.

The expression in his eyes... they did such a great job with the art. And Reo clearly didn't understand how much of a big deal Nagi saying this was, bcz from a person who considers existing a pain, this is HIGH praise. Yep, definitely shipping Nagireo now.

God really isn't.🥲 Why does my boy Niko have to go through this?? From his perspective, this must look so horrifying. "Hugs Niko through screen".

Glad we have zantetsu's backstory now. I am LIVING for this friendship.

The Nagi- Zantetsu scene in the bath was so so cute. A depressed weirdo and a ostracized idiot finding a tentative comfort in each other. It really makes me wonder how Zantetsu is doing in PxG with all the ...interesting combination of people there. He seems like the type to straight up ask Loki why is a 17 yr old teaching them. Wonder how he'll bond with members like Tokimitsu and Rin. And his whole dynamic with PxG.

Protective Nagi!!

The "Nagi-kun" 😂 . Even Reo is sweating at how unnaturally angry Nagi is at Barou for hurting Reo. And I don't blame him at all. Bcz this chapter reminded me of why I dislike Barou so much.

I mean his behaviour here,

My heart is breaking for the other team. The desperation in the eyes of that blond kid , the bangs kid's sobbing... It really makes you feel for the rest of players who got locked off like Naruhaya and had an even worse time bcz of a bitch like Barou. Worst part is he meant every word he says here.

I'm sorry to all the Barou stans here, if you don't like what I'm saying, simply block me.

Ppl can call on-field Isagi and Rin rude all they want. Hell, even Sae does’nt bring people down in this manner. But nothing comes close to Barou spouting this kind of trash to his team. That they shouldn't even consider themselves human bcz they couldn't score a goal against Nagi.

And the way he was so insensitive to Snuffy opening up about Mick's death. Who tf actually tells a grieving person they won't end up like said dead guy bcz they're better or whatever, high key insulting Mick. Not a drop of compassion in him. Snuffy has the most patience in this entire facility for putting up with his bs.

Sae is rude to reporters, Barou is simply a deplorable human being with no excuse for his actions. I will be cheering Isagi on when he humiliates this guy in my reread. The only good thing I can say about him is that he's a great antagonist. If you stan Barou, atleast stan him as the jerk he is and not excuse his actions.

You tell him, babe! ( the way he caught Reo I- )

What. A. Badass.

Said it before and I'll say it again. The art in Ep Nagi is absolutely phenomenal. Esp, the shading on the other side of Nagi's face is stunning. Well, that's abt it for the first part of Ep Nagi.

[fourswords]

can i be so for real about something here on my blog real quick. and i'll state flat out that this definitely isn't meant as an attack on anyone and is just me sort of rambling about things i've seen. one of the reasons i never really tag my fsa manga posts with the main 'four swords' tag that everyone uses is because the fandom at large is like. bound and determined to make everything as black and white as possible. the biggest Thing that everyone is perpetually caught in the throes of is "you HAVE to pick a side when it comes to the relationship between shadow and vio" and i'm not even talking about shipping because i genuinely could not care less about that. i'm talking about how there's. like. the "vio and shadow are 100% on the same wavelength of being fucked in the head and understand each other perfectly and have a Bond That Transcends Time And Space" camp or whatever and the "vio and shadow should NOT be allowed in the same room together because their entire friendship was ABUSIVE and TOXIC and there was NOTHING POSITIVE WHATSOEVER about it" camp. things along those lines.

and it's just. i know it's a children's manga and so a lot of things weren't really expanded upon but the entire theme of the story was "hey man the world isn't black and white. link is a Stereotypical Arrogant Brat on the outside but when his outer layer is forcefully shattered and you see the pieces that make him up you find out that he's stubborn and kind and overly emotional and devious and mischievous and. honestly. still an arrogant brat. and he has so much love in his heart that all four of him stood around his enemy as he died and accepted him as a friend without a second though despite all the pain said enemy put them through. and he understands so much more than he lets on to anyone except maybe zelda but he's also still young and misunderstands a lot in the process. shadow link is your Stereotypical Bad Guy on the outside but once he drops all pretenses at his lowest point you see that all his explosive anger is a cover-up for deep-seated insecurity and fear and all it took for him to throw all of that out the window and truly prove that he was a reflection of link and all his aforementioned qualities was a single act of kindness. he realized what it meant to care about someone else because of vio and he realized what it meant to truly be seen as a person because of zelda and he realized what it meant to be at peace with himself because of green." and then you take a peek into the fandom and it's like "How Can We Make Every Scenario In This Manga As Black And White As Possible". but i still want to reblog cool art and not get blocked by half the fandom and stuff so i sit in my corner and make funny posts and avoid the main tag like the plague. LMAO

[lovelykhaleesiii]

I have been going back and forth in posting this, but want to have a clean slate and a clear mind going forward.

this fandom if I am being honest (and from experience in many others) has been the most roller coaster ride. it has been wonderful and blossoming, yet also, toxic and disheartening…

my current state right now, I feel as though I have been shunned from the community from all corners. stranded alone, with only a few friends (I could count them on one hand) to talk to and to trust.

I have been incredibly disappointed in this fandom by people I had considered friends, people that I believed to be sincere and kind, but over time showed a very different and ugly side.

I am not going to sugar coat this topic anymore… and be warned, I will call you out if need be, from this point on. I always had hopes that as a community mostly dominated by adults, we would act more like it, but it seems not. then accountability is necessary, because this school yard behaviour is not it.

I work most of the time, I barely even have time for a social life on top of personal things… tumblr is not my priority. but when I log in on here, I do wish and intend for this to be a space where I can relax and enjoy myself, to be creative and write and share my ideas and stories. to interact with people, to bond over characters and stories that I don’t ever get the chance to in real life, because I barely meet people with similar interests.

this is meant to be my safe haven.

recently it has been quite the opposite…

I have been gaslit, bullied & ghosted/neglected. as someone who genuinely struggles to put herself out there, I have made attempts that I am thankful for yet hurt by the experiences. putting myself in discord chats only to leave in the matter of a few days…

I have said this before and I will say it again. If I ever say anything to you directly or indirectly, and it doesn’t sit right with you. I am open to talk privately about it. I am not perfect, in fact far from it. I have flaws as do we all. I can make mistakes, I am human. if the matter can be resolved, amazing, if not: I don’t expect to get along with EVERYONE on this hellsite. the block and unfollow options are there for a reason!!!

regardless, I understand everyone has their own personal lives and issues… believe me, I DO! I am a huge advocate for life > tumblr. you need a break, take the break. you want to go on hiatus, go on hiatus. you do not owe anyone in this fandom shit, as I have reminded myself as of late. In saying that, showing people common courtesy and decency is not by any means a stretch, it should be the bare minimum.

showing support to your fanfic authors/gif makers and creators is valid and ideal.

I have taken multiple breaks because the stress and exhaustion from my work and personal life has been a lot, that I am able to remove myself from a situation, to not allow anyone else to suffer my ordeal. your actions have repercussions, and you will be held accountable.

to wrap it all up, I will continue to write my little, silly stories, I will continue to read fics. However, I have of recent been so turned off by some of the people in this community, that if I’m being honest (which I also strongly advocate for, and believe I owe whoever read this that), I have no energy to interact with people that have crossed me and made me feel less of the person I am at this point in time. my friends who I respect and admire dearly, know who they are, I don’t need to tell them twice.

when I feel comfortable with this fandom, my interactions may change, but for now. I very much enjoy my small number of friends.

thank you to those who read this entire mouthful, I genuinely appreciate the small things and taking the time out of YOUR day to read and listen to little old me, says a lot.

please take care of yourselves, and I hope that we can create a better more wholesome fandom space.

love always, Hel 🤍

[thedeviltohisangel]

Fall For A Shooting Star//Cassian Week 2024: Day Seven, Free

a/n: i feel so accomplished for completing my first ever fandom week! thank you all for supporting my first journey into acotar fanfiction, i can promise that this is not the last that you will see of me playing around in this universe. my main focus is my azriel novel i have been working on but i would love to dip back into cassian x thea at some point or if you guys have anything from them you'd wish to see. drop me a note, thank you and love you.

previous part

The giggles of the little boy matched the general joy that always seemed to be filtering around the banks of the Sidra. Thea laughed as the gentle breeze ruffled his tiny wings and blew more dandelion petals across his vision. Her son’s chubby hands were attempting to catch them but he found joy in the pursuit even though it was futile. 

“Would you like some fruit, my little love?” she cooed. Jace glowed in the presence of his mother, smiling as soon as his eyes rested on her. He was just getting the hang of sitting up on his own, still prone to wobble and fall on occasion, but was enjoying the new vantage point that the position offered. “Here you go.” She held the piece of ruby-red watermelon to his lips and he sucked on the juicy fruit contentedly. His baby teeth were still little nubs in his mouth so the fruit equally served to soothe the redness that came with growing. 

Thea kissed her son’s chocolate curls and dabbed at his chubby cheeks with a cloth from the picnic basket to her right. Cassian was away in Illyria on a mission that he refused to give her the specifics of. It meant days of a closed bond and her and Jace filling their time with their own little adventures. Normally, Mor or Feyre would join them on a stroll around Velaris. A picnic by the river. An afternoon at the park in the Rainbow. But everyone had their role to play with conflict brewing with Hybern. She just wished they would allow her to play one as well. 

Her newly burgeoning magic was wild and uncontrollable but her daily lessons with Rhysand had her getting better at managing it. But since the unfortunate loss of control at dinner a few weeks ago, she had been banned from trying to use it outside of a controlled environment with the High Lord. 

She was helping Jace sip from his water cup when she felt it. The shift in the air. The sky darkened and thunder clapped. An uneasy darkness that was not the one she had come to associate with the comfort of her found family. “Let’s head back to the house, Jacey, okay?” He whined as Thea pulled the watermelon from his grasp and tossed it into the grass. A tear rolled down his cheek as she quickly packed their basket and lifted him onto her hip. “I’m sorry but we are going to have so much fun with all your toys at Uncle Rhys’ house. I promise.” The House of Wind would be safest but without someone bringing her, there was no way her and her son would make it. The Townhouse was heavily warded, as was her and Cassian’s new home on the outskirts of the city, but the others would be at the shared home. If something was wrong, there would be strength in numbers. 

THEA. She wasn’t worried until she heard her mate’s voice echo through her head. Where are you? Where is Jace?

We are down by the Sidra-

RUN, Thea. You need to run to the Townhouse. 

Cassian, what is happening? His answer, if he was able to provide one, wasn’t necessary as the winged creatures began to streak across the sky. 

She dropped the basket she had been holding and wrapped both arms around her son before taking off in a sprint. Cassian’s voice was growing louder in his head as he raced closer and closer across the sky. 

He nearly dropped from the sky when dread and fear and panic shot through the bond. A winged creature blocking Thea’s path to safety. 

Her hand drew Jace’s face into her neck as best she could to block his eyes from having to look at the creature. In the distance, the blue of Azriel’s power was in the sky slicing through the beast like they were nothing. The flames of Amren were in the heart of the city. No doubt Rhys and Mor were hurrying back from the Hewn City to join the fight. She felt stupid for leaving her daggers in the now abandoned basket now yards behind her. Cursed those men who had taken her wings from her centuries ago that now prevented her from flying her son to safety. Thea took one step back to give herself distance to think but another creature landed at her back. For all intents and purposes, she was trapped.

Thea, Mor is on her way to you. I’m going to be there- His voice cut off into grunts as he encountered the first waves of the creatures on his way into the skies of Velaris.

Cassian…Cassian…I have to lead them away from him. I can’t trust my powers. Her eyes stayed laser focused as the creatures began to circle her. I love you, Cassian. “I love you, my son.” Mor would find Jace and she would protect him until Cassian arrived. The outcome of this fight did not matter for her. All that mattered is that her child lived to see tomorrow. That was a future she would die to preserve.

No, you can. Trust yourself, my warrior. Trust our love for each other. Your love for our son to guide you. Thea swears she saw a flash of red in the distance. The babe in her arms whimpered in fear. It was all she needed.

She took one moment to breathe, to center the emotions swirling within her, to envision what she wanted the magic to do and the shape the nebulous form of darkness needed to take. The creature lunged and her palm flew towards, a spear of night lodging itself in the chest of the beast. The other one curled to launch behind her and she curled around Jace, prepared to take the brunt of the blow, when the ground cracked around them with his arrival. 

“Are you both okay?” he asked. It would determine how quickly those creatures met their end. 

“Yes.” Cassian cut through them like butter. His Siphons nearly blinding as the power burst from his chest and cleaved through a hoard that was approaching. 

“House. Now.” He grabbed them both with one arm, racing them to the Townhouse in record timing, smirking as Jace giggled with the glee he always had flying with his father. Thea turned to leave his arms as soon as they landed but he stopped her. “Let me look at you both. Just a second.” 

“You got to us in time. We are okay. Safe.” His hands gently caressed her face and arms before his gaze landed on his son and he almost broke. 

“I’m sorry, my son. I failed you by letting danger come to your home.” Jace babbled in response and reached for his father. He wanted cuddles and a nap after such a tiring afternoon. 

“Don’t even think that,” she urged with a hand on her mate’s cheek. A cloud of darkness, more familiar and comforting this time, began to roll through the city. “Go fight with your brothers. We’ll be here when you get back.” His Siphons glowed in response. Thrilled to be given the opportunity to thrive on the battlefield. 

“I love you.” The kiss between them was quick but meaningful, his lips pressing to his son’s forehead and his thumb stroking his baby-soft skin before he pulled away. 

“I love you, too.” They had always promised to say it back. No matter what. 

She walked backwards to keep her eyes on him until the door of the house pressed against her back, lifting Jace’s arm in a wave as Cassian waited for the door to shut behind them before he blew a kiss and took off to rejoin the fray. Thea looked down as the little one yawned in her arms. “Let’s have a cuddle, my lovebug. Don’t let battle excite you quite the way it does your father and uncles. At least not yet.”

@cassianappreciationweek

[acourtofthought]

1) stop spoiling HOFAS. Jesus Christ.

2) the Bryceriel ship went up against a pre-existing relationship where the two characters (Bryce and Hunt) actually have feelings for each other, and actually like spending time with each other as both friends and lovers. You know, all the things Elain and Lucien canonically have no current signs of.

3) Lucien having a sad backstory doesn’t entitle him to Elain’s affections or love. It’s not about what he needs, or what the fandom thinks Elain needs (e.g. she needs to accept the mating bond, or she needs sunshine, or she needs to leave the Night Court), it’s about what Elain wants. And all signs (over 4 whole books now) suggest that’s not Lucien. It’s Azriel. And Elain is a seer - I’m trusting her judgement on this one.

4) I wouldn’t be so content to mock other people’s ships when you yourself have spent every. single. day. of the past 2-3 years going on and on about how Elucien is endgame, and that you know better than everyone else on the matter. You could be wrong too, you know?

Stop spoiling HOFAS?

You mean stop writing "Post contains HOFAS spoilers" followed by a Keep Reading button which hides the rest because you're the (insert choice word here) who chooses to continue reading the post when you're trying to avoid spoilers? Also, if you're the one who keeps using proof of a tainted Elucien bond because of the Cauldron then NEWS FLASH, you are already reading spoilers because that's a bullshit E/riel theory that they've suddenly come up with the leak of HOFAS. And...feel free to BLOCK my account if what I post is bothering you so much. I'm not sure why you're so desperate to keep my blog visible when it upsets you to this degree.

2. My point was that Bryce / Az shippers were convinced that because Hunt and Bryce's bond was described different than other ships, it had to be fake and Bryce's real mate was Az. Just like E/riels have a million and one theories for why the Elucien bond isn't real. But just as it was proven that Bryce and Hunts bond was the real deal regardless of it's differences to other bonds in description, Elucien's bond is the real deal too. Just like Feysand, just like Nessian. You still have absolutely NO PROOF that it was manipulated in any way especially when there are multiple examples in the ACOTAR series and CC3 explaining that when a bond snaps, it can be scented. Not just when it's accepted. 3. Lucien doesn't deserve Elain because of his tragic backstory but from a logical literary standpoint, authors do not write the progression of events that SJM has written for Lucien only to have his mate reject him in the end. The author chose to write it into her book that they are mates, has written him to be entirely respectful to the gift they share, and continues hitting us over the head with their compatibility. Elain is not real, you do know that, correct? It's not about what Elain wants but what the author wants for her. Nesta WANTED to drink and fuck random fae. Was that the best thing for her? Or did the author want better for her? So just because Elain wanted to hook up with Az doesn't meant that decision is being made for the right reasons or what Elain actually wants long term. I think it's a RIOT that you think Elain wanting to have a hook up with Az while refusing to reject her bond is a bigger clue to her future story than things like Elain always being by the sunniest window, that Elain wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of the NC....it sucked the life from her, that SPRING had been made for someone like Elain, that Elain's scent was a promise of Spring. Oh, you mean the Seer powers Elain confirms she hasn't used? That her good boy Az hasn't offered to help her with? Yeah, great call banking her entire future on those powers. Seriously, step away from your ship for half a minute and pay attention to the fucking book outside of the Az and Elain moments. 4. I'm sorry. If I actually knew who you were and I looked at your page, do you think I'd find how you liked posts of E/riels mocking Lucien and the Elucien ship? Are you honestly coming on to my page and acting like what I do is so much worse than the people you follow? What I'm "mocking" is E/riels going around claiming they have canon evidence that the Elucien bond has been proven tainted and I'm fairly sure I'm allowed to call out how ridiculous that is. I acknowledge I could be wrong Elucien. I don't think I am but until the book is written anything is possible. But have you considered that you all could be very wrong about E/riel?

[brian-in-finance]

Jamie Dornan in ‘The Fall’ / HELEN SLOANE/NETFLIX

Jamie Dornan reveals Fifty Shades fame led to a 'stalker-type' situation

"The more I can block that out, the better it is for me and family," he said.

Though he generally manages to fly under the radar, Jamie Dornan has had to deal with a potentially dangerous fan in the past.

Dornan, 41, rose to international fame when he played billionaire-with-specific-sexual-tastes Christian Grey in the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy. And while the films opened some doors for him, they also put him in the path of some unhinged fans.

While speaking with British paper The Independent, Dornan revealed that the fame and rumors surrounding the franchise led to a disturbing encounter. “I’ve been involved in situations where it’s impacted my family," he said.

I had a situation... a stalker-type situation before Covid. That was f-ing scary. Someone turned up at my house when my kids were there. It was not something... The more I can block that out, the better it is for me and the family.

Dornan also addressed ongoing conspiracy theories that he and Grey costar Dakota Johnson have a secret relationship and family (in reality, Dornan has been married to Amelia Warner since 2013, with whom he shares three children).

I tried to put walls up around [the fans], to really try and not let that in. I’m pretty good at just blocking any of the noise associated with whatever fandom is – not letting it affect me, or more importantly my family.

Jamie Dornan in 'Fifty Shades Freed’ / EVERETT COLLECTION

His time in the Fifty Shades franchise was marked by boffo box office combined with behind-the-scenes strife, largely due to author E.L. James' differing creative vision from original director Sam Taylor-Johnson. But Dornan also revealed that his past history as a model meant he was often only considered for romantic heroes like Christian Grey in his early days as an actor.

“All I’d ever get to audition for was, you know, ‘the count who comes in on a f-ing horse and ravages the woman���,” he remembered. “I’d come from modeling, so I thought those were the only types of roles I was going to do."

The opposite has proved true with Dornan playing everything from a serial killer on The Fall to a lovestruck himbo in Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar to a dad fighting to keep his family together during the Irish "troubles" in Belfast. He's hoping to avoid projects that might bring him the level of notoriety of Fifty Shades in the future.

Jamie in ‘Barb and Star Go To Vista Del Mar’ / CATE CAMERON/THE CW

"There’s never going to be anything like Fifty Shades again," he said. "It felt very much like its own thing, particularly because it focused in and around sex. But there are obviously other jobs that bring insane scrutiny, like superhero stuff, or f--ing James Bond – any of that stuff. I’ve done pretty well to avoid that sort of s-- so far."

Though he also doesn't rule out the possibility of finding himself in a project of that nature at some point. “I think if you’re an actor of a certain standing, who has a certain sort of recognition, you’re going to be in those conversations,” he noted. "I’m not saying I’d never do anything super high-profile again, or a big [intellectual property] with all eyes on it. I probably will. But I’m also really happy with where I’m at right now."

"I can live a pretty normal life for the most part," he concluded. "I can sit on the Tube and I’m fine. I’m an ambitious person, and I have a fire under me, but in the last 10 years or so, I’ve realized I don’t want big peaks all the time. That doesn’t interest me. I’m happy to keep ticking over as I am, then one day just disappear and play golf for the rest of my life."

Jamie in ‘Belfast’ / ROB YOUNGSON/FOCUS FEATURES

EW

Remember how the Belfast stars probably compared notes?