#forever dealing with Oliver’s jealousy

[prettylittleliarliziexoxo]

Excuse the bad photos but this outfit of Felicity’s is 🔥🔥🔥🔥 I always wanted this dress and the boots 👌

Jealous Oliver at its finest (this was when Barry was in his coma and he didn’t think felicity’s head was “in the game”)

Love felicity’s executive assistant wardrobe

[dfroza]

“I am God’s emissary to you, and I honor this call by focusing on what God is doing with and through you.”

growing A pure Tree:

“If the root of the tree is sacred, the branches will be also.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 11th chapter of the letter of Romans:

Now I ask you, has God rejected His people? Absolutely not! I’m living proof that God is faithful. I am an Israelite, Abraham’s my father, and Benjamin’s my tribe. God has not, and will not, abandon His covenant people; He always knew they would belong to Him. Don’t you remember the story of what happens when Elijah pleads with God to deal with Israel? The Scripture tells us his protest: “Lord, they have murdered Your prophets, they have demolished Your altars, and I alone am left faithful to You; now they are seeking to kill me.” How does God answer his pleas for help? He says, “I have held back 7,000 men who are faithful to Me; none have bowed a knee to worship Baal.” The same thing is happening now. God has preserved a remnant, elected by grace. Grace is central in God’s action here, and it has nothing to do with deeds prescribed by the law. If it did, grace would not be grace.

Now what does all this mean? Israel has chased an end it has never reached. Yet those chosen by God through grace have reached it while all others were made hard as stones. The Scriptures continue to say it best:

God has confounded them so they are not able to think,

given them eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear,

Down to this very day.

David says it this way:

Let their table be turned into a snare and a trap,

an obstacle to peace and payback for their hostility.

Let their bright eyes become cloudy, darkened so they cannot see,

and bend their proud backs through it all.

So I ask: did God’s people stumble and fall off the deep end? Absolutely not! They are not lost forever; but through their misconduct, the door has been opened for salvation to extend even to the outsiders. This has been part of God’s plan all along, and so is the jealousy that comes when they realize the outsiders have been welcomed into God’s new covenant. So if their misconduct leads ultimately to God’s riches coming to the world and if their failure turns into the blessing of salvation to all people, then how much greater will be the riches and blessing when they are included fully?

But I have this to say to all of you who are not ethnic Jews: I am God’s emissary to you, and I honor this call by focusing on what God is doing with and through you. I do this so that somehow my own blood brothers and sisters will be made jealous; and that, I trust, will bring some to salvation. If the fact that they are currently set aside resolves the hostility between God and the rest of the world, what will their acceptance bring if not life from the dead? If the first and best of the dough you offer is sacred, the entire loaf will be as well. If the root of the tree is sacred, the branches will be also.

Imagine some branches are cut off of the cultivated olive tree and other branches of a wild olive (which represents all of you outsiders) are grafted in their place. You are nourished by the root of the cultivated olive tree. It doesn’t give you license to become proud and self-righteous about the fact that you’ve been grafted in. If you do boast, remember that the branches do not sustain the root—it is the system of roots that nourishes and supports you.

I can almost hear some of you saying, “Branches had to be pruned to make room for me.” Yes, they were. They were removed because they did not believe; and you will stay attached, be strong, and be productive only through faith. So don’t think too highly of yourselves; instead, stand in awe of God’s mercy. Besides we know that God did not spare the natural branches, so there is no reason to think He will spare you. Witness the simultaneous balance of the kindness and severity of our God. Severity is directed at the fallen branches withering without faith. Yet kindness is directed at you. So live in the kindness of God or else prepare to be cut off yourselves. If those branches that have been cut from the tree do not stay in unbelief, then God will carefully graft them back onto the tree because He has the power to do that. So if it is possible for you to be taken from a wild olive tree and become part of a cultivated olive tree, imagine how much easier it would be to reconnect branches that originally grew on that olive tree.

My brothers and sisters, I do not want you to be in the dark about this mystery—I am going to let you in on the plan so that you will not think too highly of yourselves. A part of Israel has been hardened to the good news until the full number of those outside the Jewish family have entered in. This is the way that all of Israel will be saved. As it was written, so it also stands:

The Deliverer will come from Zion;

He will drive away wickedness from Jacob.

And this is My covenant promise to them,

on the day when I take away their sins.

It may seem strange. When it comes to the work of the gospel, the fact that they oppose it is actually for your benefit. But when you factor in God’s election, they are truly loved because they descended from faithful forefathers. You see, when God gives a grace gift and issues a call to a people, He does not change His mind and take it back. There was a time when you outsiders were disobedient to God and at odds with His purpose, but now you have experienced mercy as a result of their disobedience. In the same way, their disobedience now will make a way for them to receive mercy as a result of the mercy shown to you. For God has assigned all of us together—Jews and non-Jews, insiders and outsiders—to disobedience so He can show His mercy to all.

We cannot wrap our minds around God’s wisdom and knowledge! Its depths can never be measured! We cannot understand His judgments or explain the mysterious ways that He works! For,

Who can fathom the mind of the Lord?

Or who can claim to be His advisor?

Or,

Who can give to God in advance

so that God must pay him back?

For all that exists originates in Him, comes through Him, and is moving toward Him; so give Him the glory forever. Amen.

The Letter of Romans, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

A set of notes from The Voice translation:

In every generation, God makes sure a few survive the onslaught of judgment. The prophets call these the “remnant.” Paul sees himself living in a critical moment as fewer and fewer Jews pledge obedience to Jesus. But the Anointed’s emissary finds comfort in realizing how God’s faithfulness is playing out in his day. If you ever think that you alone are faithful to God, that somehow God has forgotten His covenant promises, think again. He always has a remnant.

The cultivated olive tree provides Paul with a beautiful image of how believing Jews and non-Jews were organically connected in the plan of God. Life flows from the earth to the branches—some natural, some grafted in—through the rootstock. Paul wants to make sure the grafted branches know they have not arrived on their own; their spiritual life and vitality flow from the root, Israel. God is the Farmer who has tenderly grafted them into the sturdy stock on the basis of faith. So pride and arrogance are completely out of place for those grafted branches. They will bear fruit only as they remain connected by faith to the stock.

Paul says that God’s mysterious plan for the ages is being revealed as the number of outsiders swells in the churches and as a part of Israel is hardened, at least for a time. But let’s not forget that hardening is not God’s unilateral action. Whatever hardening takes place happens first on our side before God reluctantly agrees. That part of Israel now hardened has already rejected God’s Anointed. Yet when the full complement of non-Jewish outsiders enters God’s kingdom, “all Israel will be saved.” But clearly “all Israel” can’t mean every last Jew, because Paul has already shown that not every son or daughter of Abraham is an heir to the promise.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 22nd chapter of the book of Exodus:

Eternal One: If someone steals an ox or a sheep and either kills or sells it for profit, then he must pay five oxen for the one ox he stole or four sheep for the one sheep he stole. But if the stolen animal—the ox or donkey or sheep—is still alive and in his possession when he is caught, then the thief must pay the owner double. A thief must make restitution for what he has taken. If he has no means of doing so, he must be sold to pay for his theft.

If a person attacks a thief in the act of breaking into his house and the thief is killed during the attack, then the homeowner is innocent of blood guilt. It is different if the sun has already risen; so any homeowner who kills a thief during the day must be considered guilty of bloodshed.

Eternal One: If someone allows his animals to graze a field or vineyard until it is bare and then lets his animals wander over onto a neighbor’s field, then he must compensate his neighbor from the very best of his field and vineyard.

If someone starts a fire and the fire spreads and sets the thorn bushes ablaze, and eventually that fire burns up stacks of harvested grain and everything growing in the fields, then the person who started the fire is responsible and must pay reparations for what was lost.

If someone gives his neighbor money or items to keep for him and it is stolen from his neighbor’s house, then if the thief is captured, he must pay double for what he stole. If the thief is not found, then the person who owned the house that was burglarized must go stand before God’s presence so that He can decide whether he is the one who stole the property.

Whenever there is a breach of trust—regarding an ox, a donkey, a lamb, a piece of clothing, or any lost item—and the contested item is discovered in the possession of a neighbor and claimed by two different parties, then both sides must appear before God. If God finds the neighbor guilty, he must pay double for what he stole.

If someone leaves a donkey, an ox, a sheep, or any other kind of livestock in his friend’s keeping, and the animal dies or is injured or disappears while no one is watching, then the two are to make an oath in the presence of the Eternal. The neighbor must swear he had nothing to do with the loss of the animal, and the owner of the animal must accept his statement and not demand any compensation for the loss.

But if the animal was stolen while in his neighbor’s care, then the neighbor must compensate the owner. If it was torn to pieces by another animal, then the neighbor may use the remains as evidence, and not have to pay any compensation for the torn animal.

If someone borrows an animal from a neighbor and it is harmed or dies while not in the possession of the owner, then the borrower must compensate the owner in full. But if the owner was there when the animal dies or is harmed, then no compensation is required. If the animal has been rented and not borrowed, then the rental fee paid shall cover the loss of the animal.

If a man entices a virgin who is not promised to another man to have sex with him, then he must pay her father the bride-price and marry her. If the young woman’s father refuses the marriage offer because he disapproves of the man, then the man still must pay the amount of money that is customary for the bride-price for virgins.

You are not to allow a sorceress to live.

Anyone who has sex with an animal must be put to death.

Anyone who dares to sacrifice to any god other than the Eternal must be declared under the ban and destroyed.

Do not wrong or oppress any outsiders living among you, for there was a time when you lived as outsiders in the land of Egypt.

You must not take advantage of any widow or orphan. If you do oppress them and they cry out to Me, I will certainly hear them, and My wrath will be kindled. I will make sure you are slaughtered by your enemy’s sword, and your own wives and children will become widows and orphans.

If you loan money to any of the poor among My people, do not treat them as borrowers and act as their creditors by charging interest. If your neighbor gives his coat to you as collateral, then be sure to give it back before night falls—even if he has not repaid you in full. You see that coat covers his body and may be his only protection against the cold. What do you think he would sleep in? When he calls out for Me, I will hear his cry. I am kind and compassionate as you should be when a fellow Israelite is in need.

Do not curse the one True God or any rulers of your people.

You must not hold back or delay your offering from the bounty of your harvest or the juice of your vineyard. Dedicate every one of your firstborn sons to Me. But dedicate your livestock—your ox and sheep—to Me in sacrifice. The firstborn of your livestock may stay with its mother for the first seven days. When the eighth day arrives, give the firstborn to Me. You must be holy before Me. Do not eat any animal that has been torn to pieces by wild beasts in the field. Toss its remains to the dogs.

The Book of Exodus, Chapter 22 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The difference between these two situations is the difference between daylight and dark. If a homeowner is protecting his property at night and injures a thief, it is to be treated as a case of self-defense. But if the crime takes place during the light of day, it is not necessary to incapacitate or capture the thief; it is necessary only to recognize the thief and bear truthful witness against him in court. The right to personal property does not eclipse the right to life.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, may 13 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the wonders of the heavens:

Shalom chaverim. I took this pic of the Northern Lights last Shabbat after saying kiddush and praying with my kids... I didn't have time to get out my tripod and a do a time-release, but this snapshot gives you some idea of the glory we saw that night (Psalm 19:1-4).

And Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. Thank you, Lord, for the great blessing of our mothers!

5.12.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[makaylajadewrites]

Part 9: Demons

Hi everyone, welcome back to the Bria Monique series! It's been quite some time since I've posted anything in this series, and although this is just a drabble/is kind of rough, I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 here

Summary: Spencer was not a stranger to having enemies. He had been dealing with them all his life and had them for as long as he could remember. Even as a child when he would walk down the street from his house to the bus stop a few blocks away, wearing his heavily scuffed Converse and old leather backpack that once belonged to his father, he was looked at like some kind of natural phenomenon. But the attention wasn’t always innocent and harmless, and he learned that the hard way through the ruthless bullying he suffered through his high school experience.

Tags: Hate speech, Homophobia, Potential transphobia, Bullying, Coming of Age

Word Count: 2665

-

Spencer was not a stranger to having enemies. He had been dealing with them all his life and had them for as long as he could remember. Even as a child when he would walk down the street from his house to the bus stop a few blocks away, wearing his heavily scuffed Converse and old leather backpack that once belonged to his father, he was looked at like some kind of natural phenomenon. The sensation of eyes on him was nothing new, because at first it had always been harmless, curious onlookers left confused and amazed at the sight of eight year old Spencer Reid, sitting in a Las Vegas public high school’s library soaking up the contents of a quantum physics textbook. But the attention wasn’t always innocent and harmless, and he learned that the hard way through the ruthless bullying he suffered through his high school experience.

To think that teenagers, some almost six years older than him, bullied him to feel a sense of power was sickening when he thought back on it, but he supposed it was a natural part of Darwin’s theory of evolution at play; survival of the fittest, and Spencer was far from the fittest. He was physically small at that age, as any ten year old would be, with knobby knees and too-small hands, but that only made him a primary target for bullies.

The goal post incidence would forever remain engrained in his memories, and even though it had been over ten years ago, Spencer would never forget the pain, humiliation, and shame he felt after that day. He had been so uncomfortable in his own skin, thinking things about himself that twelve year olds shouldn’t have to think. He didn’t like his body, and had come to hate it more and more as the years went by.

College should have been where the bullying ended, but it didn’t. Twelve - almost thirteen - year old Spencer trudged into his first ever class at Caltech with those same dirty Converse and his mother’s old peacoat since he was now tall enough to wear it without it going below his knees, and the looks were still the same. Some were harmless, others malicious; he told himself it was normal to be hated by those who didn’t understand him. He came to expect it, and at the tender age of fifteen, he began to realize another aspect of himself that would bring him hatred from others for the rest of his life.

Spencer was gay.

He didn’t know what exactly made him realize it. He had been sitting at the desk in his individual dorm room one day (since the university thought he was too young to dorm with another student) with an Abstract Algebra textbook open in front of him while he scratched out impossible equations in his notebook. And suddenly his hand seized movement, his eyes rose, and he looked out the window into the cool December air. A young man was walking across the street two stories below, with olive skin and unruly brown curls, and when he glanced up towards Spencer’s figure in the window. He smiled, and Spencer was breathless.

That was all it took. He had never thought about it much in the past, since he was so heavily caught up in his studies and more concerned with his education than anything else, but the minute those emerald eyes locked with his own, he was reminded of the fact that all human beings crave affection from someone, and in Spencer’s case, he just so happened to wish for it to be a man.

He was once again faced with self-deprecating thoughts, fearing the judgement that would certainly come his way should others know of his identity. He felt like he was constantly holding his breath whenever he went out in public, like he was one second away from screaming out to the world ‘I’m gay,’ just to get the pain and humiliation over with. He didn’t know much about gay culture, and as intelligent as he was, he didn’t know much about gay history either. So as well as doing research on his own, he took a course called Queer History the next semester. In that class, he met Ethan, and together, they explored their sexualities and Spencer had never been more sure of anything in his entire life. He was gay, and that was okay.

They drifted apart naturally, with no hard feelings or animosity, and even today, they remained friends, only contacting each other occasionally. Reid would sometimes pay his old friend a visit if the team ever traveled down to New Orleans, and seeing Ethan behind a piano always seemed to calm him. He was truly talented, and although many chastised him for wasting his intelligence in order to be a jazz musician, Reid couldn’t fault him in the slightest. He was doing what he loved, being who he loved, and that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t until Spencer met Derek that he began to think a little differently about himself. He had always had so many issues with his self esteem and the way he viewed his body, and even before their relationship turned into something more than a platonic friendship, Derek went out of his way to make Spencer feel better about himself. He called him ‘pretty boy,’ encouraged him to go on dates often, feigned jealousy regarding Spencer’s intelligence. When they became a couple, those efforts increased tenfold. Sometimes with no real reason he would compliment Spencer, throwing in pet names as a form of shared intimacy between them. They would make beautiful love together at night, writing poetry with their lips, composing symphonies with their joined bodies. He would wake up the next day in bed with Derek, and Derek would greet him with a deep voice that creeped over his skin like ivy, saying, “Good morning, beautiful.”

Over the years, those looks remained of course, but for the most part, he had learned to block it out, because he had proved time and time again, both to himself and others, that he was undeserving of needless judgements. He was fine the way he was, and while nobody was perfect, he had grown comfortable with himself. Of course he still had moments of doubt and he was still occasionally dysphoric of his body, appearance, personality, but Derek, ever the loving partner, would guide his thoughts in the other direction, and with gentle kisses and soft murmurs, Reid would feel better. Performing in drag definitely helped too, because a drag queen could not be a good performer if she wasn’t confident. But he lacked the confidence of Bria Monique in himself, and sometimes he wished he had merely an ounce of the confidence she possessed. But he was getting better, slowly but surely.

Which was why when he walked into the bullpen alongside Morgan on a seemingly normal morning, a sheer layer of lip gloss coating his lips and a dusting of pale pink blush over his high cheekbones, he nearly stumbled over himself when all eyes seemed to lock onto him. The whispers started, subtle in nature, but they pierced through his brain like a dagger, and not even Derek’s hand on the small of his back could erase the overwhelming sense of shame that swelled in the pit of his stomach. They knew. Word must have spread like wildfire, and it certainly didn’t help that most of the bureau followed along with the BAU’s cases, since they played out like a police procedural sometimes.

What bothered him the most though was that David Rossi stood just outside of his office, leaning over the railing and watching the scene play out like it was some sort of entertainment, a neutral, unreadable expression on his face. Spencer felt nauseous all of a sudden, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so uncomfortable in his own skin. He pushed away from Derek, not with malice, but with the need to simply get away from prying eyes, and his closest refuge was the restroom just outside of the bullpen. He quickly found a stall and threw himself to the ground before that porcelain throne, dispelling the contents of his stomach into the bowl and feeling a sob force its way from his throat. He hardly even noticed Morgan who was there with him almost immediately after, holding his chestnut curls back with one hand and rubbing his back, just between his shoulder blades, with the other.

“It’s okay… You’re gonna be okay, baby,” Derek said softly to him, hating the sight of his lover crying so openly. “Let’s get you cleaned up… We can talk to Hotch about this, get it sorted out.” And while he knew that Derek was only trying to be reassuring, it still hurt like a bitch to become the focus of all of that negative attention once again. He didn’t say anything at first, reaching blindly for toilet paper which Derek was happy to supply him with before wiping his mouth and nose with it, using another piece for his eyes. Morgan managed to get him out of the stall and standing in front of the row of sinks, he was faced with his reflection, and he was disgusted with himself. He turned the water on, splashing it on his face and practically scrubbing the light makeup off of his face with his fingertips. He looked up slowly, catching the dark bags under his eyes and other imperfections on his face, and he broke down once again. People couldn’t accept him either way. Derek pulled him in, and Spencer melted into the embrace as sobs shook his shoulders.

“Do you want to go back home, Spencer?” Derek asked softly, pulling away to catch sight of Spencer��s tearful honey-brown eyes, and he gently cupped his cheek. His thumb caught a tear that was just beginning to fall past his bottom lashes, and with a sniffle, he shook his head. That would be like admitting weakness.

“N-No, I-I just… I just need a minute,” he murmured rather lamely, pulling away from Derek and pulling a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry his face and wipe away his tears. “Then we can… We can go talk to Hotch,” he said, his voice dropping in volume considerably when he said that, like it was embarrassing. It was, but it was what they should do. He felt uncomfortable, singled out, and while talk and gossip was bound to spread, he hadn’t expected it to be so obvious.

“Take your time, pretty boy. Deep breaths, okay?” Derek reminded him, rubbing a hand over his back yet again as Spencer leaned heavily against the edge of the skin, exhaling shakily and doing as Morgan said. He needed to calm down if he wanted to go out there again, but he wasn’t sure if he could ever face his colleagues the same way again. Eventually though, he managed to collect himself, and the two exited the bathroom and walked quickly to Hotch’s office, Spencer keeping his head bowed in shame the entire time while Derek escorted him with an arm around him the entire way.

Once inside, however, they weren’t expecting to see Rossi inside, sitting down in the seat in front of Aaron’s desk. The two seemed to be chatting amicably while Hotch filled out paperwork simultaneously, but both men raised their heads at the intrusion, and instantly, Hotch took notice of his youngest agent’s flushed face and swollen eyes. He said nothing though, giving either Spencer or Derek the opportunity to explain. Rossi looked on curiously, but he remained silent, paying special attention to the contact between the two men.

“Hotch, we’ve gotta talk, man,” Derek said simply as he closed the door behind them, “How did details of the case leak?”

Hotch was silent for a few moments, setting his pen down and sighing, “It was bound to happen, Morgan. It was getting a lot of attention from the media due to the social justice concerns that arose from it. We cannot control what the media does with the information they retrieve,” he said, folding his hands across his desk, “Nor can we control how others react to seeing such news.”

“So… what? You just want Reid to deal with it?” Morgan asked, narrowing his brows. Spencer stood awkwardly alongside him, glancing over at his partner since the anger was radiating from him in waves.

“What do you want me to do, Morgan?” Hotch asked, clearly a bit exacerbated, “I believe the bureau is considering a mandatory seminar regarding discrimination and harassment in the workplace, but I can’t force them to do it.”

“Of course,” Reid said then, nodding his head a bit sheepishly, “I-I understand…”

“It came across as quite a shock, kid. No offense,” Rossi said, truly sounding genuine but the way his dark eyes roved over him made Spencer feel incredibly vulnerable. “It was, ah… shocking, to say the least. You can’t be surprised that people reacted the way they did.”

“David,” Hotch said warningly, but Reid was already raising an eyebrow, his expression turning into one made of both confusion and surprise.

“What does that mean?” Reid asked slowly, and Rossi simply raised his hands in exasperation as if it were clearly obvious to everyone.

“Oh, Reid… You have to understand how strange it is. Men don’t belong in women’s clothes, it’s just unnatural!” He exclaimed, and Reid shrunk into himself a little bit as the volume rose in the small office. Hotch rose from his desk slowly, catching Reid’s panicked eyes.

“I don’t think you get to choose what type of clothing someone wears,” Reid said simply, “People can wear whatever types of clothes they want to. I don’t wear women’s clothing in my casual life but I’m quite familiar with women’s clothing due to my hobby, which is not unnatural and is completely harmless.”

“Reid…” Rossi started, shaking his head, but Reid wasn’t finished just yet.

“Maybe you should come to one of my shows sometime. Then you’ll see how unnatural it is for me to feel comfortable in my own body and enjoy myself. You have no idea how many straight men have tried to take me home. I bet even you wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off of me, David,” he said smoothly with an air of confidence, huffing a bit and glaring sharply at Rossi, making direct eye contact, something he was not known to do. In fact, Hotch and Morgan shared a look of surprise, and even Rossi was left speechless. Derek had never seen his lover like that before, but he was swelling with pride at seeing Spencer defend himself. Reid didn’t feel an ounce of regret for anything he said, and was in fact quite satisfied with himself.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to fix my makeup,” he said with no hesitation, turning on his heel and leaving even Derek in the office as he returned to the bathroom to do just what he said. When he emerged, pink gloss glistening on his diamond lips and translucent blush shimmering on his cheeks, he walked to his desk with his head held high, and even as the whispers continued around him, he sat himself down and got to work, just like he always did. Derek watched him from his own desk and Spencer’s eyes lifted to meet his gaze. He didn’t have to be afraid of judgement anymore, and even if Rossi couldn’t accept him, he would always have someone.

“I love you,” Derek mouthed, and Spencer beamed, feeling more content with himself than he had in a long time.

“As you should,” Spencer said aloud in response, looking down at his work and not missing the guffaw of laughter that came from his lover.

He may always have demons, but he would always have Derek too.

<-Part 8: What a Woman

[spookymultimedia]

A Summer to Remember Ch 5

[Tim pov]

I walked up to Ned Flanders after breakfast and looked at him from a few feet away. He was in the kitchen working on the morning dishes, just humming to himself. It was cute. He really was a sweet man. I wasn't sweet like him. I was bitter and tired. Helen tells me I'm a pessimistic person and how I tend to see the negative side of things most of the time. I hated early mornings and usually grumbled instead of talking. Mornings were just too early sometimes. I liked to keep to myself and had a distaste for casual conversations. They felt anything but casual for me. There's uncomfortable lulls and I never know what to say. In conversation everything is unpredictable and I never have the right words. On the pulpit it's different. I've planned out what I have to say. I know what to expect for the most part. Everything is controlled. I like control. Is it selfish to prefer a little less chaos in my life?

       But somehow over the years I've grown used to Ned. Of course sometimes I don't feel like talking, but sometimes he just has to worry and talk on and on about something that's not that big of a deal and sometimes I have to step in and put him into perspective of what really matters. He's a nervous person. He can't help it. We're only human.  We both have our flaws; he's probably a more likeable person than I am though.

    So how on earth can such a kind, optimistic, genuine person have feelings for someone like me? It was surprising. Unpredictable. But I didn't mind this surprise. It was a new discovery of this friend I've come to like. Really when I think about it, it's no surprise that he's gay.

     I walked up closer to Ned and looked at him. I tried on a smile for once,

      "Good morning."

He gasped at me then smiled, "Reverend. I didn't hear you; you scared me. Goodmorning. "

     "I'm sorry." I frowned awkwardly. I really was that quiet, huh. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel better." He shrugged. He didn't sound confident. 

   "I'm here for you." I smiled again.

"I know you are." Ned smiled warmly. There was something about Ned that made you feel good. He could make you see how temporary worldly troubles are and made you feel like everything would be ok. 

      "Ned, are you going to come out to us as a group this morning? I think it would make for a good discussion. . .if you're comfortable with that of course." 

      He thought for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah, I'm comfortable. I trust all of you." He smiled at me looking happy to have some support. "Tim. . .why did you walk off like that last night?"

  I just shrugged, "I don't know." I didn't have a good answer. I just didn't want to be there anymore, I had felt confused last night. What was sexuality? What was mine? I was straight, right? But how did I know that? It was all too overwhelming to process. I wasn't sure where to start. 

     "Oh. .ok." Ned looked down thoughtfully and looked at me again. "Should I bring up how I feel about you?? I'm sorry, I should just get over it  .  . .I should. .I'm sorry." He rubbed his hand on his arm nervously. He was tense. He should relax more. 

     "Ned it's okay, it just happens sometimes. It's up to you if you want to talk about it. . you don't have to though." 

        "Okay. I'll catch ya later then. I better go wash up." He walked off. 

         If it was up to me I'd just have both of them, Ned and Helen. Maybe something in me felt curious. I wanted to see what dating Ned would be like. I winced, confused. Why was I thinking like that? Did I have feelings for him?? That's not how marriage works. It is between a man and . . . No I mean, it's between two people, not three or more. But why not? Why was it that way? If I made Ned happy and chose to be with him that would mean I'd have to leave Helen, I love Helen. I've been through everything with her. We've had our highs and lows. We even came close to breaking at times but we stayed strong. I can't just end that now. But what if I do nothing and regret it forever? What if I end up wanting Ned more than I realize? Was this something I was seriously considering?? I felt sick.

        "Timothy?" 

      I flinched and turned to see Maude. "Oh, it's you." I sighed out relieved. I was jittery at the moment. It didn't help that I had just drank coffee. 

        "Are you alright?" She cocked her head.

"Yes." I said firmly. ". .why?"

        "You were staring at the wall?"

". . .mm yes." I walked off, again, for no good reason.

[Ned pov]

     I sat there waiting for morning study.

I stared at the fireplace that was always lit. Helen always complained to Timothy it was impractical and only made a mess. No one really knew why he always had it lit. He just likes setting fires for some reason. My chest was feeling just like that fire; restless, warm and tense. What if Helen hates me? What if I lose her friendship? What if I ruin everything? I took my hand and gently fiddled with my other hand, pulling at its fingers nervously. It was a bit hard to breathe. Maude sat by me.

       "Hey. You ok? You look tense." I looked down at her and shrugged. "He asked me to come out officially to you all and. . well, I'm scared of how Helen will take it." I muttered. She held my hand and I took it.

       "Well I'm here for you. I always will." I nodded and took a deep breath.

"Ok."

     Soon Timothy and Helen joined us and sat down. He opened up with a prayer and looked at me, "Ned, would you like to share an enlightening discovery you've had recently?" 

        I nodded but didn't say anything for a moment.

      "Well?" Helen asked, a bit confused and impatient. 

       He put up a hand, "Helen, please." He looked at me kindly, "Take your time Ned."

     I swallowed. "I'm- I'm gay. I'm a gay man. I. .I like men." My voice shook.

Helen shrugged, "Is that all? I thought it was something serious."  I wasn't sure what to say to her. She wasn't upset. That was something.

        "And the Lord understands you and loves you Ned, there's nothing wrong about you at all." Tim confirmed to me once again.

Should I tell her more? The truth would come out eventually, I might as well say it. 

       "Helen . . .I . . .I need to confess something that's been on my heart."

         She looked at me puzzled, "What?"

I opened my mouth trying to find my words.

     "I'm sorry. . .I just- I- I hope you can find it in your heart to understand." 

      "Okay. ."

       "I fell in love with your husband.  . .I didn't mean to. I didn't do anything with him I promised but I've just been having these strong feelings and I know it isn't right. . ." I felt a tear run down my face. She should just yell at me, I deserve it. I was shaking. 

       "Oh. . Oh .Ned. I understand. . .it's okay. I forgive you. It's just a harmless crush. I don't blame you. He really is a nice man." She smiled up at Tim and petted his back. Ridiculous jealousy itched at the back of my head. I wanted to hold him too. Why can't I have him?! I want him!! I need him. These bitter thoughts left me with a bad taste in my mouth. It was unlike me to feel so jealous. 

"Yeah. . ."

      "I'm glad you could be honest with us,Ned." 

      I stood up, "I need fresh air. . ." I made my way outside. I felt like I could throw up. 

     "Are you ok?" Tim stood up. Stop caring about me, it hurts. I kept walking and ran until I was in a meadow. I layed down. The bugs were going to be everywhere in my clothes. It didn't matter, I'll run to the showers soon. I started to cry. I was just so overwhelmed and stressed I couldn't help it. I felt dizzy. Emotions were burning me alive. My heart was yearning for something that was forbidden. He wasn't mine. He'd never be mine. The thought upset me like a spoiled child who was told no. I felt stupid. 

       After a minute I stood up. Maude looked at me from outside the meadow. She was only a couple feet away. "What's wrong?"

"I . .  . I want to be alone right now."

She nodded, 

          "Okay. . .we love you." 

  "I know. I love you too."

[Maude pov]

I walked back to the cabin and found the Lovejoys still by the fireplace, 

      "He wants to be alone right now."

"Hmmm. ." Timothy looked at the floor looking distressed, "This is my fault I shouldn't have pressured him. I should have let him talk on his own terms." He ran his hand through his hair. "Did I say something wrong?"

            "I don't think so?" Helen replied. She put a hand on his back. 

   "You're very supportive,Timothy." I sat by him. 

        "Thanks Maude." He smiled but still seemed worried. "He's not hurting anyone. I don't feel offended or betrayed at all." He paused before looking at Helen. "Are you?"

She shook her head, "No, he was only being honest. I don't feel upset. I don't see any issue with Ned having feelings really."

         "Doesn't it bother you a little that we're married?"

         She shrugged at him, "No. . .I mean I am a bit surprised. I don't know." She looked over at me and walked over to where I was sitting. I was staring at the floor thinking.

    "Everything okay?"

            I wanted to be honest with her but I wasn't ready. I was still anxious. I just shrugged. 

     "Why don't we go for a swim? Will that help?" 

       I smiled and nodded, "That would be nice. It's so humid out here." I stood up and gave her a hug. She hugged me back, she always did. Her hugs were firm and sincere. God, I could feel her chest under my head, they were so soft and nice. After a couple minutes I let go and left to change into swimming clothes.

       I found Helen at the "beach" and sat in the shallow water with her. I sighed at the cool water, this was nice. Helen's hair was already dripping on her shoulders. 

     "Feel better?"

      She looked down at me.

     "Mmhm."  I leaned on her shoulder and smiled. The shore's waves beat against our legs washing small rocks off and onto us. I picked up a smooth olive grey rock that looked pretty and looked it over. Helen started to skip stones across the water. Or at least she tried to. The most she could get were two skips and when she had she looked over at me with huge eyes, "Did you see it?" She said proudly. 

                          "Yeah I did." 

 For a few moments we were peacefully quiet until she spoke up, "Maude?"

                  "Hm?"

      "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

I tensed up slightly, was she suspicious??

  "No. . ."

           "Oh. ." She sounded a bit disappointed, it surprised me. Why?

    "I have once."

I sat up and looked at her, "Really?" I gave her a look that begged her to tell me more. 

      "Yeah . . I was in 10th grade and I there was this all girls sleepover at my house. Me and this one girl thought it would be funny to kiss. I dunno, we just wanted to make a scene I guess." There was a giggle and blush in her voice. I smirked, "I'm not surprised."

     "Well, we did it. And we made out because it just kept getting attention and I dunno I was just young, it was just too fun. And well I . .I kinda liked how her mouth felt against mine and how her chest felt against me . ..But I was young." She shrugged.

          "So?"

"So I . . .I just like men now." I could swear she was trying not to look at my wet shirt where my boobs were. She played with her hand in the water and looked down.

      "Are you sure?"

She shrugged, "I don't know.  .I mean. I just thought it was something all young girls went through." 

              "A phase?"

"Yeah. ." 

            "Well, do you still like girls?"

"Maybe.  .  .? Isn't that weird?"

       "What?" 

"That I'm- that I might sorta maybe still feel attracted to women while I'm married?"

           "Mmmmm I don't think so."

"But I love Timothy."

           "I think you can find them nice to look at and still be committed to Timothy, Helen. I forget what the word was. Umm. . .bisexual I think?" 

         "Oh . . ."

"That doesn't mean you're gonna go around kissing other girls. You're committed and you just happened to like girls too. It makes sense."

       "But.  . .what if I do want to kiss other girls?"

     "I . .I don't know." I blushed. Was she thinking about what I thought she was thinking about?? I got butterflies everywhere.

"Do you?"

         ". .Yeah.  . ."

       She leaned slowly towards me, testing the waters. I stopped thinking and met her in between. I pecked her lips and she pecked at mine. Her hands rested at my waist. Something in me woke up. It was an aching desire to get closer to her. To get more of that sickly sweet sensation I was feeling that felt so nice. I poked my tongue into her mouth, and she cracked open for me to feel and explore. I kissed her deeper and felt her cheek with my palm. It was a wonderful feeling. After a minute she broke the kiss and looked at me, her face was flushed pink. "Helen . .Helen, you have to tell Timothy about us." 

     "It was just a kiss.  . I mean friends kiss sometimes right?"

           "Usually no. . .not like that." 

She thought it over in her head, "God, we've made such a mess." Despite her stress her hand played with my hair, my head leaned against it. 

        I gave her a long look and before I knew it we were on each other again. Her kisses were hastey but deep. Intense but soft. I got into her lap and felt her hand pet at my back. One of my hands rested on her chest. It was soft, it was so soft. I wanted to grab at it and play with her . . .but that wouldn't be ladylike of me. So I resisted. I pulled out and rested on her shoulder to catch a breath. "Helen you're pushing your luck, what are you gonna do if he finds us like this?? What if he's upset?"-

     I looked over at the sound of footsteps and found Timothy standing there. I quickly moved off of her. "Reverend! I . . .we. .we got- it got out of hand. .I'm sorry. Please don't be mad." I teared up feeling scared and hugged myself. 

                "Helen.  . ?" There was hurt in his eyes. "I- I didn't realize you felt this way."

        "Timothy I'm sorry. . .I still love you, I mean it. .I'm so sorry, can we talk about this?"

       "I understand." He walked off solemnly. 

[christophe-delorne]

Good Dog: Chapter 16

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this in the works earlier this week but got caught up in family problems and couldn't finish editing it. Needed something to take my mind off things. Its a bit shorter than normal but I couldn't find much energy to add more.I'm putting this story on hiatus, I'm just too tired to really continue writing at the moment. I hope someday I can come back to this. Shout out to my dog, JoJo, though. He's the goodest boy, I don't know where I'd be without his comfort and love.

Christophe was unaware how long he slept, but he found himself waking to comfortable warmth wrapped around him. It was tempting to let himself be lulled back to sleep, having the strange feeling of safety blanket over him, as if nothing could reach him. That was what bothered him though, he never felt safe or comfortable enough to allow his defenses to fall. His mind fought through the fog of his brain so he could focus on reality, a bad choice on his part as instantly he was flooded with a dull, aching pain. It served as a reminder as to what had happened to him.

Being shot was no fun ordeal, no matter how many times Christophe had been shot, he'd never really get used to it. The best solution was simply not to move until he was healed, he was moderately safe, recalling somewhat that he'd been in the presence of Kyle and Gregory. He was as safe as he was ever going to get, but that wasn't saying much really. Gregory was the biggest danger to Christophe, not even a trained hitman posed as much as a threat as the Brit. Gregory knew all of Christophe's weaknesses, knew how to hurt the Frenchman without even raising a hand. The man was every form of torture designed specifically for Christophe.

The current torture was the secure feeling of having those perfectly defined arms curled about him.

He could feel Gregory's slow and easy breath ruffling his dark brown hair, the feel of those broad chest pressed against his shoulders. Long legs tangled with his own, keeping Christophe from pulling away, not that he really wanted to at the moment. It was so rare to have this moment, where Christophe was almost tempted to believe that they lived in a different reality. One where everything fit just right, straight out of some romance novel. Not that Christophe would ever admit to having read one before. In moments like this, it was easy to fall into the illusion, where Gregory was a caring boyfriend that only had eyes for him. They'd wake up, Gregory giving him a good morning kiss before making breakfast.

It was sickening and... Christophe could see why people found it appealing. That life wasn't for him though. He wasn't deserving of it.

"Mm, thinking of me, 'Tophe?" A whisper of a voice brushed against the back of his ear, he should have know Gregory would be aware of Christophe waking up, the tension in Christophe's body was always a dead give away. Still though, Christophe didn't respond, not bothering to humor the blonde. He was too tired to deal with his antics, but Gregory took Christophe's silence only as an invitation. Soft lips pressed against the back of his ear, a deceptively gentle kiss. One Christophe would not fall for, gentleness had never been given to Christophe except to lure him into relaxing before Gregory got rough with him.

Those lips trailed down, pressing feather-light kisses down Christophe's neck until Gregory buried his face into the crook of it. Christophe could feel those arms tighten around him briefly before relaxing again when Christophe grunted from the pain of his bandaged wounds.

"I thought I lost you again..." Gregory's voice was barely even a whisper now, muffled against Christophe's neck to the point Christophe barely understood him. Christophe understood though, no matter how much Gregory posed and did his best to keep his composure, Christophe was also his weakness. Christophe tensed, remembering what it was like the time he died, how he'd woke up to a sight that was forever branded in his memory. Of Gregory crying. He'd never seen Gregory cry again after that, though he felt like right now that Gregory was doing his best not to succumb to saddness once again.

Crying? For him?

Tears were better wasted on someone else, not him. But... Christophe couldn't help but to fancy the idea that maybe he was loved deeply enough by the blonde that fear and heartache could effect him. Maybe in another life they would have been lovers, tied together by some invisible string, maybe even destined soulmates. Christophe found some sort of peace in the idea, enough so that he dared to reach up with one hand and brush his fingers into those silken stands of fine spun gold. Gregory wouldn't have tolerated such under any other circumstance, but now, they were experiencing a different reality, a dream for as long as they could before it slipped through their fingers.

Gregory's fingers were gentle, stroking slowly back and forth over the uninjured part of Christophe's abdomen, tracing over scars as if his touch alone could erase them physically and mentally. Lips pressed kiss after kiss on olive skin, worshiping Christophe, praising him for staying alive. How could Christophe ever leave? He could never abandon Gregory. Not even God themselves could pry him away from the blonde. Against all odds, Christophe would always find his way back to Gregory, as romantic as that sounded.

Love. Romance.

Two words that Christophe avoided the best he could, but he'd never escape it. He should run from it, shun it with everything he had. He couldn't though, deep down, he yearned for it. Maybe not the love that was pictured on films, he could never live a normal life like that. However, Gregory could offer him a place... but would he?

No.

If Gregory wanted him like that, Christophe would be living in his home, not some girl that clung to Gregory's arm like a trophy. He wanted to hate her, to give in to the jealousy that clawed inside him, but he couldn't. He was aware of the truth, Gregory's lifestyle demanded someone of higher caliber than Christophe could offer. Christophe couldn't smile, didn't have that pleasant look in his eye. Not to mention the wrinkles and the bad habit of smoking whenever he was stressed, and he was stressed a lot. All in all, Christophe and Gregory were complete opposites in reality. It simply wouldn't work.

"You're getting tense again." Gregory murmured, reluctant to give in to reality just yet as he brushed his nose against the underside of Christophe's jaw. Dark green eyes peered down at the mass of golden hair, so beautiful, so perfect, like a ancient Greek god who crawled into his bed. Christophe wouldn't praise Gregory in such a way, it would only feed the other man's ego and would never let Christophe forget it.

"What are we, Gregory?" Christophe rasped out, making him realize he probably needed something to drink soon, his throat was dry.

The question made Gregory still, pulling him out of the dreamworld they shared for such a brief moment. It was best they not dwell too long there, or else what little sanity they had left would be lost. Gregory didn't respond right away, letting silence fall like a winter's chill in the bedroom. Still though, Gregory didn't let Christophe go, didn't pull away, still locked in his fear of losing Christophe. Golden brows furrow, soft lips thin as Gregory was losing himself in thought, puzzling this out, trying to find the right words to say. Thinking. Always thinking too much.

"I can't lose you again." Gregory replied as if that was a satisfactory answer, but it wasn't. It solved nothing. Christophe was on his wits end after near death. Could he possibly kept this up? He wasn't certain, but he was tired, tired of being a good dog who came at Gregory's beck and call without hesitation. He was tired of receiving nothing in return, tired of his leash being yanked and his collar tightening around his throat to the point he couldn't breathe. It was time he demanded something for himself and if Gregory taught him anything, it was to sink his teeth in and never let go.

"Implying you ever had me to begin with." It was a statement, an accusation tossed out there to hit Gregory and pin him down with a choice. He could feel Gregory's arm tighten around him, muscles like lean cables of steel locking him in place. In Christophe's current condition, he'd be hard pressed to fight back, but he didn't need physical strength to hurt someone, Gregory had taught him that much. "I'm just some stray you occasionally feed scraps to, but I've never been yours and at this rate, I never will be."

"Careful what you say, Christophe." Gregory's voice was dangerous against his ear, but Christophe wouldn't be pressed into obedience. Not this time.

"When have I ever been careful?" A sour response. "I'm drawing the line here. I'm not some side piece, some toy you can play with. Not anymore. Either you completely dedicate yourself to me, or else this will be our last job." He hated Colorado, hated the people from South Park, hated how everything crumbled apart when they were involved. It had to be this way, if Christophe did die and stay dead, what was his point? Would anyone really remember him? He'd be left having accomplished nothing in this hell of a planet. He wanted something, something for himself. For once, he wanted to be selfish.

"What do you expect me to do?" Gregory was backed in a corner now, his defenses down from stress, of being reminded of how he found Christophe. He'd rushed to find Christophe both times, and both times he'd found Christophe alone and bleeding on the ground. Everyone gone, forgetting about him. Except for Gregory. In all honesty, Gregory could never forget about the Frenchman. Forget the way those dark forest green eyes stared in defiance at him, saw right through all his charades. Christophe had never cared about looks, about manners, had always pressed Gregory to be more independent, to stand on his own instead of chasing after his father's coat tails.

"The same thing as you expect from me. Loyalty and dedication." It was simple, or sounded as such, and yet so complicated. Nothing had ever been easy for them, such a tangled mess of their lives that they tried so desperately to hide or ignore. Christophe was tired of getting tangled up in it all, he needed something stable to stand on. He didn't want this fantasy he caught brief glimpses of to remain that way, just fantasy. It would never be perfect, but at least it would be something he could work towards, something that would help him continue fighting to live.

"I shouldn't..."

"Why not?

"It will only hurt me more if... something did happen to you."

"Coward."

That got a response out of Gregory, Christophe was well aware of how much the Brit didn't like being called a coward. A cheap tactic, but Christophe wasn't one for beating around the bush or succumbing to cowardice. A firm hand came up to grab a hold of his jaw, jerking his head roughly to the side without warning but Christophe didn't resist. He knew Gregory's aim even before those addicting lips crashed onto his own. There was no waiting as a tongue suddenly delved past his chapped lips and conquered his mouth, Christophe didn't have the energy to fight back, simply letting Gregory lose himself in the moment.

This was a good enough answer for him.

[camillemontespan]

cake fluffy alphabet

Thank you to @pixelburied for letting me use this template! 😄 This is on my phone so apologies for the lack of a keep reading line.

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @dcbbw @emichelle @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @notoriouscs @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @gardeningourmet @katedrakeohd

A – Anger (What was their first fight about? Any big or recurring arguments?)

A recurring argument is how Drake often uses whiskey to block out negative thoughts. Camille tries her best to get him to open up and he is working on it. 

B – Best (What would they say is the other’s best trait?)

Drake thinks Camille's best trait is her empathy.  She listens and she wants to help you if you’re having a rough time. ‘I’ve got wine, come over for chats, let’s unpack this.’ 

Camille thinks Drake’s best trait is how amazing a father and husband he is. He always puts his family first and he will do anything to keep them safe and happy. Becoming a family man was the making of Drake Walker.

C – Camera (How do they document their relationships? Who likes to take pictures? Or videos?)

Drake has a photo album on his phone of just pictures of Camille which he looks at when he misses her or just wants to smile. 

Camille has a scrapbook and develops actual photos and sticks them inside. 

D – Dates (What are their dates like?)

Cosy, romantic, lots of hand holding and laughter. They have ridiculous conversations over the table, such as ‘who would die first in a horror film starring our friends?’ (answer: Maxwell). 

E – Early (What was the first month of dating like?)

Drake constantly thought she was going to dump him. He didn’t believe he was worthy of her and he thought she would realise she had made a big mistake. Huge. 

Meanwhile, Camille was happy and giddy at the thought of dating him which is a complete contrast. 

F – Friends (How is their relationship with each other’s group of friends?)

They obviously have the same group of friends :) 

G – Gifts (Do they like giving each other gifts? What kind?)

They do! Personal, thoughtful gifts. Camille isn’t into anything flashy, she much prefers cute little things that she can treasure. She loves to read vintage books and Drake will buy her one if he wants to make her smile. 

Camille gifts him different bottles of whiskey, the more obscure the better. But the best present she ever gave him was the little babygrow with an embroidered marshmallow on the pocket as a birthday present, to surprise him with her baby news. 

H – Hugs (All things involving hugs)

THEY LOVE HUGS. When Camille’s cooking, he will come up behind her and give her a hug ‘just because.’

I – Inside Jokes (Do they have any?)

They have one involving vaseline and clingfilm thanks to Olivia and Leo.. 

J – Jealousy (Who gets jealous easier? How do they show their jealousy?)

Drake gets jealous easier. He knows she loves him but those early dating thoughts start coming back when he sees her talking to a handsome guy and he starts to doubt himself. He will go very quiet, stewing. Camille will know exactly what he’s thinking, which means she will become more touchy feely with Drake to reassure him that SHE IS NOT GOING TO LEAVE HIM.

K – Kiss (How do they kiss? Who usually initiates?)

Passionately! Cutely! Tenderly! All the kissing! Drake usually initiates because he is a romantic marshmallow under that rugged and sarcastic exterior. 

L – Love (How do they first say those three words?)

He said it to her in bed, almost in shock at himself because he hadn’t been expecting to say it but he just had to get it out there because she looked particularly beautiful that night and he realised how happy he was. Even better, she said it back.

M – Movies (What kinds of movies do they watch together? Is it a regular Netflix ritual?)

They watch thrillers and the occasional romcom which Drake tolerates for her.  They have Netflix and they like to bingewatch series (Drake has a crush on Nancy from Stranger Things)

N – Nicknames (Things they call each other)

‘Baby,’ ‘honey,’ just those kinds of names. 

O – One (Tell us about the moment they realized they were with the one.)

Drake took her camping up the mountains and she loved it. She didn’t complain at all, she took photos of everything, she got excited when she saw wildlife. They snuggled up together in the tent and Camille said that she wished they could stay in the mountains together forever. That was when Drake realised she was the one. 

Camille realised Drake was the one when she told him about her parents. She has always been private about her family but on the 20th anniversary of their death, she was very upset and wallowing. All she wanted was to talk to Drake about them. It was a big deal when she told him and he was very understanding and kind, listening carefully, giving her support. That was the moment she knew he was the one.

P – Pizza (What is their favorite food to eat together?)

Tapas because its fun to share and they can introduce different things to each other.

Q – Quit (Do they break up? Almost break up? What happened?)

His drinking got heavy for a while due to external pressures. Camille stuck with him. If there are issues, they work it out. They're a team.

R – Rainy Days (How do they comfort each other on dark days?)

Drake makes her tea and brings her one of her favourite books. Or he will put on a romcom.

Camille curls up beside him and makes up funny and ridiculous stories that make him chuckle.

S – Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

Drake got really excited about decorating the baby's nursery. He was running around thinking of ideas and what to buy while Camille watched him, melting, because he was so deliriously happy.

Camille found old photos of Drake and his father which were tucked away in a drawer, forgotten. She didn't think they should be hidden away gathering dust so she framed them and hung them up to make a gallery wall in the living room. Drake came home and couldn't believe all her effort.

T – Texting (Do they text each other a lot? What do they usually talk about over the phone?)

They text throughout the day if they're apart. Camille will send him photos of her shoes or her coffee, just something random.

Drake will send her a heart emoji at the same time every day to show he's thinking of her.

U – Unique (Tell us about some of their odd habits that surprised one another.)

Drake found out that sometimes she layers moisturiser on her hands and then puts on gloves to keep the moisturiser locked in overnight while she sleeps. He thought it was weird and hilarious.

Camille found out that Drake can't go to the bathroom first thing until after he's had a coffee.

V – Vanity (Something they’re proud of in themselves and their partner)

Camille adores his chest and shoulders because he's so broad and rugged looking.

Drake loves her eyes.

W – Wedding (Tell us about your wedding head canon if they’ve gotten that far. Or if not, have they talked about it?)

They got married at the Walker ranch with only close family and friends. They wanted it to be intimate and romantic with no frills or media presence. They exchanged vows on the jetty and consummated their marriage by the lake later that night.

X – X (Something they hate about the other)

They can't hate each other. But if Drake had to choose, probably the NFL team she supports.

Camille hates his aunt Bianca, so that's not really about Drake but it's related to Drake..

Y – Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)

They're very private. They have Facebook which they barely use but Drake does use Instagram and its basically dedicated to Camille. He'll post a photo of her with captions like 'woman crush every day, not just Wednesday.'

Z – Zoo (Are they into animals? Do they want pets? What kind?)

They love dogs. They have two corgis, Cheddar and Olive. Cheddar is more of Camille's dog while Olive worships Drake.

[jellybelly30]

For the anon who sent me a number from my fluffy prompts list. Pairing is Richard/Schneider.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

Christoph hated tour buses.

The bunks were too cramped, the lounge at the back was too small, and everyone was on top of everyone else. Little things that would have been just minor annoyances were now teeth gratingly irritating.

Add to that the fact that they were currently barrelling down a highway in the arsehole of America, with nothing to see out of the window but flat plains and Christoph was sure he was going to have to kill someone for picking their nose.

Oliver wasn’t too bad; he’d sat at one of the tables near the front of the bus with his laptop and a set of headphones to watch something on Netflix. Flake was scribbling into a notebook, occasionally chewing on the top of his pen before staring out of the window. Till was in his bunk, reading and resting his voice for the next show. Paul was sitting up beside their driver, talking about god knew what, but every so often Christoph could hear the both of them cracking up with laughter.

Richard, Christoph assumed, was either asleep in his bunk, or hiding in the back lounge. He’d been withdrawn since they’d met up with family and friends in San Francisco, and had been overheard having a yelling match with his girlfriend before storming out and going back to their hotel. No-one knew exactly what had caused the argument, but Paul had said the last thing he’d heard was Tara yelling “YOU NEED TO CHOOSE, RICHARD!”.

Christoph wasn’t sure how to describe his feelings towards Richard. They’d become friends in the chaos that was Reunification, paths crossing as they joined and started new bands. Then Christoph and Olli’s room mate had left and they were stuck for someone to take their spare room and help with the rent. Richard moved in and that’s when things got complicated; at least on Christoph’s part. At first, Richard’s girlfriends were more of a small irritation. Let’s face it, who likes being woken up by your flatmate’s girlfriend telling the world how fucking amazing he is in bed?

As time passed, what started out as a small irritation soon developed into what others would have called jealousy. Christoph was incredibly protective of Richard. Most of the women who ended up with him would get gently warned to not hurt Richard. Christoph would say he was just looking out for his friend. If Richard had a problem with it, he never said anything directly to Christoph.

That all changed when Richard met a South African woman, and fell ass over tit in stone cold love with her.

Caron. The woman he’d declared undying love to after three days, and proposed to after a week. Before anyone could tell Richard to take a step back and think it all through, he’d flown to Johannesburg and married her on a beach. He’d even taken her last name. And to top it all off, he sold his house in Berlin and moved three thousand miles to New York. Christoph felt like he’d lost an arm.

They’d kept in touch, but only sporadically. Christoph had heard on the grapevine that Richard’s marriage had broken down, that he wasn’t dealing with it well. But he’d held back from getting in touch; what would he say?

Christoph found Richard in the back lounge, smoking a cigarette and staring out of the window. He looked like shit, unshaven, eyes dulled from lack of sleep, hair flattened. 

“Penny for ‘em?”

Richard turned to face Christoph, now standing in the doorway. He huffed out a breath, ran a hand through his hair.

“They’re not worth that much.”

Silence fell between them, so heavy in the air it made Christoph feel sick.

“She’s left me.”, said Richard. He stubbed out his cigarette with a bit more force than was necessary. “Said she was fed up playing second fiddle to you.”

Christoph was sure he looked like a fish out of water. The statement came out of nowhere, as if Richard was discussing the weather.

“What? But how…..what made Tara think that?”

“I think the fact that you have a habit of sneaking up behind me and humping me might have something to do with it.”

“Reesh, I do that to everyone. No-one takes it seriously.”

“Apparently, she says that I really must like it, because I never fight you off.”

“Mainly because I tend to run away before you can do anything about it.”

Richard stared out the window again, squinting as the sun filled the small lounge. “Well, then…..I guess it was the fact that the last time I fucked her, I accidentally said your name instead of hers.”

Christoph was totally floored by that admission. All these years, all of the mad backstage parties and groupies shared, and not once had Richard said a word. Not that he’d been forthcoming with his own feelings, but he’d managed to convince himself it was all one way.

“Oh.” was all that Christoph could manage to stutter out. What else could he say?

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy, lying to her about how much I wished it was you in my bed and not her. It’s not easy for me to sit here and tell you how I feel, when I know you don’t see me like that. But hey, since when have I ever had an easy life?”

Richard’s voice sounded small in the room, almost a whisper that Christoph could barely hear.

“If I’m being honest, Christoph, I’ve loved you forever, and I know you don’t feel like that about me. And it fucking kills me. So now you know. Tara left me because she knew she’d never be you.”

It took a few moments for Richard’s confession to sink in before Christoph managed to speak.

“We’re fucking idiots, Reesh.”

Richard turned to face Christoph, not expecting to see him standing there with a dopey grin on his face. “We have got to be the two most blind and stupid people on this bus right now.”

Christoph crossed the small space, and sat beside Richard. It was now or never.

“Kiss me.”.

Richard looked at Christoph like he’d suddenly sprouted two heads.

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

The already small space seemed to shrink even further as Christoph moved closer. “I said, kiss me. I think I’ve waited long enough.”

“I…..I can’t. I’m scared.”

Christoph smiled, brought his hand up to softly cup Richard’s cheek. The fact that Richard wasn’t backing away was a good start.

“Of what? It’s just me. You’d know that I’d never hurt you.”

Richard sighed, closing his eyes as he nuzzled into Christoph’s touch. “Because if I kiss you, I don’t think that I’d be able to stop.”

Christoph leaned forward, placed a small kiss to Richard’s forehead.

“Who says I’d want you to stop?”

[fierce-little-miana]

Hello^^ As threatened here I am with my pile of questions regarding the Color Ask! Sooooo here we go: Crimson, Amber, Olive, Brunswick, Denim, Ghost, Shadow, Black and Onyx for my problematic fave Bassel; Rose, Amber, Jumpsuit, Emerald, Peacock, Ash for my girl Saran; Coral, Coconut, Sepia, Hickory, Penny for my not-so-secret absolute favourite Sichilde and Ink for the whole cast! :D

For spoilery reason they will answer these questions as they are at the beginning of the story so the view of the characters on some questions might be different by the end of the story. But this is what they become, not what they are/were. So let’s start with who they are (so we might understand who they become)

Also people lie, to us and to themselves ;)

Bassel:

Crimson - Have you ever been in war? If so, describe how it impacted you

I have never personally been in a war. I have had the chance to be a third party witness to other’s wars and to speak directly with officiers. It is interesting and distracting; seeing men panicked and taking bad or out-of character decision for situations they more than often created. I have a particular affection for leaders capable to remember who they are and what they are supposed to do in a war and who do not shift the blame. They are not numerous.

I have however been implicated in two coups. It would be a euphemism to say that the first one completely changed my life and the second one, which was butchered, cemented those changes. I wish people who have no business dealing with power stayed away from it.

Amber - Do you wield any sort of superpower? If so, what is it?

Well technically I am perfectly normal for someone of my family but I guess this uses humans as reference? Well let’s just say that I am particularly found of flying, that I have a pretty good health, and that fire is a part of me.

Olive - What is your Greek personality type? (sanguine, phlegmatic, choleric, or melancholic)

What is a greek personality type? It sounds interesting.

(Note from Avit: He tends toward sanguine)

Brunswick - Are you a person who is often jealous? what makes you jealous most often? 

What is there to be jealous about? I am sometimes resentful of the freedom granted to others but this is a hardly jealousy. I a more than ready to share something or someone that I love if this is the only way to make sure that I can still have them.

Denim - What is your fashion style?

I have pretty expensive taste. I like rich and dark fabrics with complicated embroidery. I also love high quality thin leather. I am not overly found of fur though. A bit as a decoration can be nice but I don’t see the point in more. While I love clothes that are structured they must still be confortable to move with.

Ghost- Are you easily scared? What scares you the most? 

No I am not. I don’t think there are things that scares me particularly. However there are things that anger me.

Shadow - What is your biggest regret? 

Regrets are for things you are responsible of. I do not make choices that lead me to regrets.

Black - What is the darkest thing you’ve ever done? 

There was a time with Alpaïs… No this was an accident. 

Onyx - What are your nightmares most often about? 

Having to stay stuck on the ground in Vicis. Who would want that?

Saran

Rose - Would you consider yourself a romantic person?

If you are asking me if I am the type of person who would die of anguish on a desert moor, the answer is no. If you are asking me if I am type of person who would stupidly ruin their life in a duel, the answer is no. If you are asking me if I would built my entire life around notion such as true love, the answer is still no.

Amber - Do you wield any sort of superpower? If so, what is it?

I have absolutely no power or capacities that are out of the ordinary. None. And the people telling you that I am a too lucky for not being a bit of a witch are obviously sore losers and there is no truth in their allegations.   

Jumpsuit - Have you ever been arrested/ in trouble with authority?

I tend to avoid being noticed negatively by the authority even if I am not very convinced by how most of its representatives wield power and I will discuss it but not with anyone.

I have insulted the entire ruling council or Arcem, but in my defense I was already in trouble and they were making the situation worse.

Emerald - If you could be immortal, would you want to be? 

What would be the point of being immortal? I have nothing to accomplish that I can’t accomplish in my life-time and I do not want to be alone forever. 

Peacock - Are you a more flashy person, or do you like to blend in?

To be perfectly honest I do not tend to blend in, but I don’t really have control on that, there aren’t a lot of people whose family is from the Horde of the Blue Wolf in Écre. However I am not a flashy person either. I might be a bit to outspoken sometimes though.  

Ash - Is there something or someone from your past that you miss? 

My father and my mother.

Sichilde

Coral - Do you have a strong moral code? What are some moral things that you feel strongly about?

I think everyone should tend toward being moral. For me the core of morality is respect and I try to respect others, social expectations and decency. It makes everyone’s life easier, isn’t it?

Coconut - What would be your ideal vacation? 

I wouldn’t leave someone else to shoulder my duties and I have to be here for my father but a quiet place with a chosen like-minded people does sounds nice.

Sepia - Do you have any hobbies? If so, what are they?

I love music, playing the luth and singing. I try to write my own songs but most of the time I just put already existing story in music. I wish more artists would come to Vicis so I could learn new things from them but it is complicated. 

I enjoy embroidery too but I tend to get bored with it after some time. 

Hickory - How smart are you? Would you consider yourself more book smart or street smart?

I am not bad at navigating the court I think, but I must be lacking when it comes to reading certain people. I enjoy learning things and I try to know everything someone of my rank should strive to know but I would not pretend to the name of erudite.

Penny - If you could make a substantial living doing anything, what would you do?

I would enjoy being a court musician, of teaching music to people passionated by it, but of course it is no what I am supposed to be.

and for the all cast!

Ink - write your autobiography in one sentence 

Bassel: I am  Bassel Derkomaï Prince of Arcem, last member of the most noble line in the world, but don’t hesitate to talk to me about things I don’t know about.

Saran: I am the daughter of Bat-Erdene and Doria and I intend to become one the best goldsmith of Écre and all the West to honor their memory.  

Rémi: I come from Clerveille and I have had the chance that my mother did everything for me and that Sir Roland tutored me.

Sichilde: I am the daughter of Monseigneur Fergal, Marechal of Arcem, and a member of the Derkomaï court.

Avit: I am the Chancellor of Vicis, and please to do not think the words of his Eminency Bassel Derkomaï are an invitation to make him lose his time, or make me lose mine.

Robert: I happen to be the most promising knight and best looking one in Clerveille, I also try my best to make Rémi have a bit a fun sometimes.

Kénaël: I am supposed to deal with mostly incompetent guards and soldiers while being in a delicate cross-authority situation and my best friend is the most insufferable person on earth and my prince.

Césari: I am just a man out to right the wrongs, and by that I mean using all the means imaginable to right the wrongs done to my rights.

[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 17)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 1935

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst, jealousy…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The anniversary had definitely taken a backseat, what with Sherlock headlining here and there, getting awards, presents, and rewards from every case he helped. He couldn’t care less, but you knew John liked the (somewhat) glorification.

But then Moriarty had downright shocked you as he somehow managed to break the case to the crown jewels. He was, of course, arrested. But he had some form of plan. What was it? That’s what was eating all three of you alive.

You were less concerned with how, and more concerned with why he wrote “Get Sherlock” and what the end game was.

Six grueling weeks later and Sherlock was called to trial as a witness. Both you and John accompanied him.

“Remember,” you tried to say and he cut you off.

“I know.”

You let out a breath of frustrated air. “Sherlock, this is serious. Moriarty is not to be fucked with, you know this. Don’t--”

“Don’t do anything like myself. Don’t provoke them. I know.”

You closed your eyes, knowing it was useless.

Before the trial, Sherlock went into the bathroom and you waited outside for what seemed like forever before he finally emerged.

“Bloody hell, did you fall in?” you demanded.

“Sorry, had to deal with a flirting fanatic,” he noted.

“You... What?!”

But Sherlock calmed you down by shrugging it off, and of course, he had to enter court. Sherlock had asked you to tune into your deduction skills and watch all over the courtroom while he took the stand.

When it was all said and done, you three went over the facts, walking back into the flat.

“...Three of the most secure places in the country and Moriarity broke into them and no one knows how or why. All we know is--”

“He ended up in custody,” Sherlock finished.

“Don't do that,” John slowly requested.

“Do what?”

“The look?”

“What look?”

“You’re doing the look again?”

“Well I can’t see it, can I?”

John gestured to the mirror. “My face?” Sherlock asked, completely confused.

“Yes, and it’s doing a thing. It’s doing that ‘we both know what’s really going on here face’.”

“Well, we do,” Sherlock insisted.

“No, I don’t, which is why I find ‘the face’ so annoying.”

You’d been gripping your head in frustration before you finally snapped, “Oh for God’s sakes! If Moriarty wanted the jewels he would have them. If he wanted the prisoners free, they would be. The only reason he’s sitting in a cell is because that’s what he’s chosen. So now the question is why. Why does Moriarty want to be behind bars? What’s the point? What’s the end game?”

By the end of your rant, you’d begun to pace.

“Y/N’s right, it’s part of his scheme,” Sherlock agreed.

At this, the three of you continued to mull over the “why”... Sherlock the most concerned with it.

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

John went to the trial, to hear the sentence. Sherlock waited at home. You were actually doing your real job, busy at a trial of your own, but your mind was never far away from your boyfriend. You were nervous as hell, but you were sure they would find him guilty. How could they not?

But then the horrible news that he was found not guilty rocketed you into another dimension. John had called you after he called Sherlock. His voice was full of panic.

“What do you mean they found him innocent?!” you shrieked as you were on recess for your own trial.

“I don’t know. But they did. He’s coming for Sherlock, I know it. The bastard just hung up on me though.”

You tried to even out your breathing. “Okay, that’s okay. If Sherlock knows this, he has a plan.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I know Sherlock and I know he weighed and thought about every possible outcome. If Moriarty is coming for him, he’ll be ready. In the meantime, I gotta go. Keep me updated.”

You ended the call and went back to your trial. When it was done (and you’d won the case), you raced to Sherlock’s flat where he was explaining everything to John. Apparently Moriarty had come by the apartment and had a little chat with him. Of course it was a threat, but none of you knew what the hell it meant or could possibly mean.

You and Sherlock seemed to spend the better part of two months going over anything he could be plotting. Romance, the anniversary, the relationship as a whole went on the back burner. All efforts and focus was either on Moriarty or an active case.

Then suddenly, a kidnapping case had come about. Sherlock was nearly giddy with glee as it seemed to be a rather curious case indeed. As luck would have it, you were with him when Donovan and Lestrade presented the case to him. You, John, and Sherlock were driven to the site of the abduction.

You watched Sherlock work (an aphrodisiac for you). He startled the nanny, and then graciously told her he believed her story and requested someone get her a bag to breathe into. The sheer confidence of the ordeal was enough to make you smirk appreciatively.

Donovan caught your approving face and skipped up next to you.

“You think him being a complete ass and scaring poor old women is funny do you?”

Your face lost all trace of humor, and anger ignited inside you. “I think Sherlock getting the job done as quickly as possible is good, yes. Or was that not the point? To get to the children as quickly as possible.”

“He sure has a funny way of going about it,” she muttered snidely.

“At least he doesn’t fuck around while on the job, literally. How is Anderson’s wife by the way?” you asked, turning to face her as you walked backward. A mischievous grin played on your face as you twiddled your fingers in the air at her like a wave before turning to follow Sherlock into the house.  

Watching Sherlock work, you remained silent. It was best not to speak while he was “in the zone” unless asked. He found a bottle and requested for Anderson. Anderson came and prepared the room for black light analysis. Without fail, Anderson gave a brilliant impression of a moron, to which Sherlock told him so.

He found some samples of the kidnappers boots that he said would behave like a map for them. Which would be true. Scraping some samples and the three of you rushing to St. Barts, Sherlock began his analysis, dragging Molly into it as well.

Every time you were around Molly, it was….strained. You knew she had known him longer than you had, you knew she had feelings for him -- still, and she stayed in line, not trying to cross the line of friendship with Sherlock. Yet every time you were around her, there was a touch of awkward tension in the air. Part of you respected her for being an adult, part of you didn’t like Sherlock around her because you knew of her feelings, and another part of you felt entirely sorry for her.

It must be one hell of a thing to watch the man you carry a torch for love another. Even if you and Sherlock never showed any sort of public affection, even if you kept it strictly professional while working a case, the fact remained that you were his and he was yours. This fact was glaring just by the looks you two shared, the way his gaze would linger on yours.The way he would shoot you a knowing smirk. The way he commended your deductions.

So now, you stood with John, helping him on some of the tests when Molly suddenly struck up a conversation with Sherlock that wasn’t science related.

“What did you mean ‘I owe you’?” she asked as she worked. Sherlock stopped his movements and you did too. You couldn’t help but listen in. “You said ‘I owe you’ while you were working,” she noted.

“Nothing,” he quietly said, shutting the topic down.

“You’re a bit like my dad. He’s dead. No… sorry--” she tried, realizing the social awkwardness of her statement.

“Molly, please don’t feel the need to make conversation, it’s really not your area,” Sherlock advised.

She made a face, a nervous, but bold face. “When he was dying, he was always cheerful. Lovely, except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once, he looked sad.”

Sherlock gave her a warning. “Molly…”

“You look said,” she continued, ignoring his tone of caution, “when you think they can’t see you.”

Both of their gazes flashed to the two of you, but you made quick work to shift your own eyes and make your hands start fiddling about.

“Are you okay? Don’t just say you are, because I know what that means when you think no one can see you.”

“You can see me,” he noted.

“I don’t count,” she commented, and a pang of sympathy washed through your chest for her. “What I’m trying to say is, if there’s anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all. You can have me.”

Red shot into your cheeks as you kept your face down, still pretending to work.

“No, what I mean is... I just mean... If there’s anything you need… It’s fine,” she stammered, ending her olive branch speech.

“But what could I need from you?” Sherlock asked and his tone made it clear that he would never need her.

“Nothing,” she replied, sorrow in the back of her voice. “I don’t know. But you could probably say thank you.”

Sherlock stuttered a thank you and she quickly exited the lab. Standing for a moment, you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to talk to Molly, but on the other hand it would be best if you left it alone. Your tenacity got the better of you and you put your tools down, following her out into the hall.

“Molly,” you called, jogging to catch up to her.

She spun and faced you, not saying a word. You knew she didn’t like you, at all. She was polite to you around Sherlock because of him and John, and because she’s a nice person. But you knew if she could have a wish, it would be to get you out of the picture.

But that wasn’t the case. You were here to stay, and Molly needed to realize what her place was in Sherlock’s life.

You pressed your lips into a flat line as you peered at her, her waiting for you to say something.

“Look... I… I know you love him,” you started and she seemed to stiffen, probably awaiting you to demonize her. “I know how hard this must be for you. I wanted to let you know I appreciate you being an adult about this. And I really appreciate you not crossing that line and trying to be something more.”

Your gaze held hers for a second, a hardness settling into your eyes, while the rest of your face remained soft. “He doesn't have many friends, and it’s nice to know you’re there for him and support him.” You reached up and gripped her arm gently, a reassuring squeeze coming from you. “He and I are lucky to have you in our lives.”

Molly nodded, staying quiet a long time. “I--I--Yeah, you’re welcome.”

You smiled at her, the grin loaded as you let her go. Her gaze lingered on you a moment longer before she walked off to the cafeteria.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@cocosierra94

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@thefridgeismybestie

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

CC tag: @disneyoncerlover815 @ultrarebelheart @tngrayson @clairese1980 @ladyblablabla

[raywritesthings]

Wrong Road to the Right Place 4/?

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Quentin Lance, John Diggle, Thea Queen, Moira Queen, Joanna de la Vega Pairings: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel finds herself curious about the marks Oliver showed her that night in his bedroom - and the tattoo on his left shoulder stands out in particular. When she discovers its meaning, she finds herself questioning everything she knows about the man she doesn’t want to admit she still loves. AO3 link

Things had calmed down in her life compared to the past couple weeks. CNRI had a future, Tommy had given up his less than subtle attempts to get her to start seeing him again, and nothing odd was going on with Oliver.

And then Mrs. Queen was shot at.

“I wouldn’t worry,” her dad told her when she called. “She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wasn’t even the target. It was a mob hit.”

Laurel gripped the phone tighter. “Mob?”

“Yeah, one of Bertinelli’s guys was trying to do a deal with them. It’s not gonna go anywhere, though. The Queens got more sense than that.”

“Mm-hm,” was all Laurel could really manage.

“You alright, honey?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

And it was fine. It had been the Italian mob, not the Russian mafia. And Oliver hadn’t even been involved, so it was probably just a coincidence. Right?

She was soon distracted by a different friend’s woes; Tommy’s father cut him off from his trust fund only a few days later. Knowing how much the CNRI benefit must have cost, Laurel couldn’t help feeling enormously guilty. Not enough to sleep with him, but enough to agree to dinner on her next free night.

Tommy recommended a new restaurant that was opening called the Cavalli, but if she’d known the wait was going to be so long she would have told him to take them somewhere else. As it was, they’d been standing there for about thirty minutes when a familiar voice hailed them.

“Hey!” Oliver appeared through the crowd leading a woman with long, dark hair. He was dating. Her mind went totally blank for a brief moment, and Laurel had no idea what to feel.

Then he introduced them all, and somehow it got worse.

Helena Bertinelli. Oliver was dating a Bertinelli. Laurel could scream.

If she didn’t know what she did, she probably would’ve overlooked it. It’s not as if Oliver would ordinarily have any reason to know whose families were or weren’t in the Italian mob. Not like her, cop’s daughter who was sat down and told who she couldn’t be friends with at school before she’d even reached the first grade. And the Bertinelli family was right at the top of that list.

Which, knowing what she did, Oliver had to be aware of.

“Nice to meet you,” Helena was saying to Tommy.

“My pleasure.”

It took her a bit of a pause to reply, “Likewise.”

“You look beautiful,” Oliver told her.

“Thank you,” she said with surprise in her voice, not expecting the compliment. If he was on a date, it wasn’t exactly the done thing.

So what was really going on?

When Helena offered to let her and Tommy join them at their table, Laurel didn’t even feel bad saying yes. After all, if it prevented some sort of mob deal from going down, wasn’t that her civic duty?

Not that there was a deal. She had no proof. Yet.

And the dinner got off to a fine enough start. Catching up, reminiscing. And that part she did feel a little badly about, because it left Helena somewhat on the outs.

She seemed to realize it herself, because she asked, “So, how long have you and Tommy been seeing each other?”

“Oh, we’re not,” Laurel said, and she didn’t miss Tommy’s grimace or Oliver’s mouth dropping open soundlessly. Had he thought she was getting back with Tommy? Was that why he was dating? “We’re just friends. Have been for a long time. And Oliver, too.”

Both of Helena’s eyebrows went up. “So you all have known each other—”

“We’ve all known each other forever,” Oliver confirmed. Laurel nodded.

Things ended on an awkward note when Laurel found out Tommy hadn’t talked to Oliver about working at the club and Helena found out she and Oliver had used to date. Tommy stormed off, and she followed him only to be yelled at for making him some kind of project as well as being accused of still having feelings for Oliver. She should have realized he was sore about her turning down a relationship, but wasn’t this exactly the reason she’d done so? The last thing she wanted was some bout of jealousy to destroy the friendship Oliver and Tommy had had all these years.

He came back and apologized the next night, which she accepted easily enough since it hadn’t hurt her feelings too badly. Tommy was going through a pretty serious life change; some bumps and bruises were only to be expected. At least he was trying to do better.

“In fairness, I think we all weren’t at our best last night.” She still had no idea why Oliver had alluded to them sleeping together up at the Aspen ski lodge. If he and Helena were serious that was about the worst move to make, and if they weren’t then it didn’t look very good for whatever cover they were trying to pull off.

“Yeah, you seemed kind of tense at dinner,” Tommy remarked. When she didn’t immediately answer, he added, “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to Oliver about working at the club. I guess I just thought it’d be weird, me working for him.”

Laurel waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Helena,” she answered.

“What, you didn’t like her? Or do you not like that Oliver is dating her?”

She wasn’t about to take that bait. Laurel had been the one to say she and Oliver could never be more than friends. It’d be crazy to be jealous if he’d decided to move on. He should be able to move on...just, maybe with someone else. And at a time when he wasn’t possibly engaged in mob activity. Was that so unreasonable to ask?

“You know what the Bertinelli family is famous for, Tommy? Being at the head of the Italian mob.”

He sat up properly at that. “Wait, really?”

Laurel nodded. “That’s why that motorcyclist shot at Mrs. Queen the other day. The man she was talking to was trying to broker a deal for Helena’s father.”

“Then what would Oliver be doing with her?”

“I have no idea.”

Tommy frowned, clearly not liking anything about this. “Maybe Helena’s different. Maybe she doesn’t have any part in the mob stuff.”

Laurel considered it. She really didn’t want to automatically assume the worst about a woman she hardly knew. But it was such a bizarre coincidence.

“Was I really that tense?”

Tommy chuckled. “I think it’s safe to say it was pretty awkward all around.”

“I should apologize. Or maybe that’d make it worse,” she amended when Tommy pulled a face. “I could invite them over? And maybe some other guests. Throw a house party.”

That got a full-blown laugh out of Tommy. “You’ve never thrown a party!”

“Well, maybe I want to,” she insisted stubbornly. “Or you could organize it, and I’ll pay you an hourly wage. Start you on a freelance career if you don’t want to work for somebody.”

Tommy held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. I’ll talk to Ollie about the club tomorrow.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you.”

“Are you gonna talk to him?”

Laurel sighed. “You don’t seem to think I should. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll wait and see how things go with Helena.”

It turned out she didn’t have to wait long.

—-

Joanna came back from a lunch late in the week with her brother in good spirits, but as she approached her and Laurel’s desks her smile slowly started to fade.

“I see,” Laurel was saying to someone on the phone. “Is there any chance you have their names or contact information?”

On her computer screen was a map of the North China Sea, the one the news had posted with that island they’d found Oliver on highlighted.

“No, it’s not for an interview. I just wanted to know if they had any information on comings and goings in the region. Groups, organizations. Uh-huh.” Her friend jotted something down on a notepad. “Yes, you can call me back at this number.”

“Laurel, what are you doing?”

Her friend jumped and spun around in her chair. “Nothing.”

Joanna nodded to the screen still displaying the article. “Yeah, that looks like nothing, alright.”

Laurel’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, I was trying to get in contact with the fishermen who found Oliver.”

“Why?”

Laurel didn’t answer.

“I really don’t think you should try to force this,” Joanna warned her.

“I’m not trying to force anything, I’m just trying to piece together what happened.”

“Well, I doubt they know what all happened in the last five years.”

“No, but they might know who does.”

“Yeah, we all know who does. Oliver.” Joanna shook her head. “But he’ll talk when he wants to.”

“That’s the trouble, Jo,” Laurel said. “I don’t think he ever wants to. And I’m worried what will happen if he doesn’t.”

“Is this because of what happened with Mrs. Queen the other day?”

“Partly,” Laurel admitted.

“Well, word on the street is that shooter’s with the Hood now.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe what happened with Mrs. Queen was an accident. But I really don’t think every single problem in this city can be tied back to Oliver. Even if your dad wishes it could.”

Laurel allowed a smirk at that. “I guess I do sound like him, huh?”

“Just a little.” Joanna perched on the corner of her friend’s desk. “You’ve gotta learn to let these things go or people are gonna start calling you crazy, too.”

“Look, I would love not to assume the worst. To just let Oliver go on dating Helena—”

“He’s dating?”

“Yes,” said Laurel.

Well, that didn’t match up at all. Then again, Oliver didn’t seem to know what he wanted from Laurel any more than Laurel knew what she wanted from him. It was enough to drive the rest of them all mad from watching it.

“Okay,” Joanna said slowly. “Maybe some space is the best thing for both of you right now.”

“Tommy said the same thing.”

That didn’t surprise her.

“Well, give the research a break, too. If you really think there’s something more to all this going on, it’s more your dad’s kind of work, anyway. Let him handle it.”

“And have him haul Ollie down to the station on trumped up charges again?” Laurel shook her head. “No. This has to stay between you and me. Promise me, Joanna.”

She held up both hands. “Alright. But please consider letting this whole thing go.”

“Okay.”

That tone was not at all convincing. Joanna sighed and looked down. As she stood back up to head over to her desk, her eyes caught the word Laurel had written and underlined on her notepad: Triad.

She wasn’t sure what her friend was trying to dig at. The Triad had attacked Laurel last month, not any of the Queens. Oliver might have been there, but that was totally a coincidence.

The next morning she woke up to the news that a mob war had nearly erupted overnight between the Triad and an Italian crime family and that Helena Bertinelli was confirmed to have fled the city, her identity as the Huntress made public.

Maybe Laurel wasn’t so crazy after all.

—-

Diggle and Helena had both been right in their own ways, and Oliver should’ve known better. As it was, he could only be thankful the Huntress had elected to leave Starling City behind, even if he had given her the tools and training to make her far more dangerous than she’d ever been before they met.

And there was nothing he could do to block out her words.

I saw the way you looked at her. That kind of love doesn’t die! You still love her.

He’d told himself any sort of personal connection with someone would have to wait until after he’d completed his father’s mission. As a result, he’d had to push people — particularly Laurel — away. Helena had seemed like a way to feel less alone, and maybe that hadn’t been fair to her.

But what did it mean that Laurel was alone right now?

She’d told him nothing could happen between them, and Thea had seemed convinced the CNRI benefit Tommy had thrown had been his way of making his intentions clear towards Laurel. So then why weren’t they together? Laurel had said she didn’t need him to forgive her for sleeping with Tommy while he was away, and there was nothing to forgive, but maybe she did need closure. Proof that he was fine with never being with her again.

Was that something he was willing to give?

He wanted Laurel to be happy above all else. Whether that was with him or not. And right now he couldn’t be with her. All that would do was cause her more worry and doubt the more he had to lie. So maybe he did owe it to her to let her go. Even if it meant lying about how he felt.

He was chasing those thoughts around and around his mind as he drove home from checking on the club that evening. John had put his foot down on him going out as the Hood, so now he had nothing to do with his usually occupied hours.

Though it looked as though they were entertaining somebody by the looks of it, as he noticed a car pulled off slightly to the side when he came up the drive.

“Hello?” He called as he entered through the front door.

“Up here, Ollie!” Thea yelled back from her room. That was puzzling; Thea hadn’t seemed all that excited for him to meet her friends since he’d been back.

Nevertheless he climbed the stairs as directed and soon discovered why his sister was being so open: it was his friend in her bedroom.

“Hey.”

Laurel looked up with a little half-smile. “Hey.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m getting Laurel’s opinion on what to wear to your club opening,” said Thea from inside her closet.

“Who said you’re invited to the opening of a night club?”

His sister emerged, a superior smirk on her face she’d learned from their mom. “Tommy did.”

“Well, the ink hasn’t dried on his employment papers, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Come on, Ollie,” Laurel said as Thea scowled at him. “She just wants to be there to support you. Your mom and Mr. Steele will be there, too.”

He relented. Somewhat. “What kind of outfits has she been showing you?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” she said with a grin, which was likely the only thing that saved him from Thea’s rage. Laurel stood and added, “But that wasn’t the only reason I stopped by. Do you mind if we talk?”

“Of course not.” Oliver led her out into the hall and down a few doors, slowing as they approached his own bedroom. Laurel did as well, having fallen into step right beside him.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night. I shouldn’t have invited Tommy and I along on your date.”

“Helena invited you. And as it turns out, it really wasn’t meant to be anyway,” he remarked with a healthy dose of chagrin Diggle would have been proud of.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Laurel glanced up at him. “She didn’t mention anything about all that to you, did she?”

Oliver hid a wince. He knew it did not look good for him to be associated with the Huntress so soon after being suspected of being a vigilante himself. “You’d probably have better luck asking that Hood guy.”

“Right.” She leaned her weight against the wall and added in an offhand tone, “My dad said we got pretty lucky the Hood drove her out of town before the, ah, Bratva could get involved.”

That was something Oliver hadn’t even considered, but he certainly agreed with Lance. He also couldn’t remember if the Bratva were something he knew about before the island, but it was best to play it safe. “Bratva. Isn’t that a kind of doll?”

Laurel’s eyes narrowed. “It’s the Russian mafia.”

“Oh, yeah. That would make more sense.” He nodded a couple times for added effect. But it was best they didn’t dwell on the Bratva or the Hood for too long. “Hey, I actually wanted to ask you — what’s going on with you and Tommy? Or not going on?”

“Nothing.” She huffed at his disbelieving look. “Really. I mean, he asked me out on a date instead of for sex, and I turned him down. But we’re still friends.”

“Was there a reason you did?”

“Is there a reason I should tell you?”

Oliver shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Laurel, I’m not trying to — I want to be a friend to you, and that includes being there if you need to talk. Like you said at the CNRI benefit.”

“I said I wanted to be there if you wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, well that’s the thing about friendships. Sort of supposed to go two ways.” Oliver allowed himself the slightest smirk as she pouted. It was unreasonably cute. “So is something bothering you? Anything I can help with?”

A short laugh escaped her.

“What?”

“No, it’s — I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.”

“Well, why not?”

“Oliver, I’m not looking for a relationship. Haven’t been, not since...all that.”

His eyes fell to the carpet. He’d been right. “Laurel, I am sorry. And I never wanted to make you think a relationship wasn’t something you could have.”

“But it isn’t,” she stated so matter-of-fact it nearly made him reel back a step. “That’s not just romantic relationships, either. I think my family alone makes a great case for why me and long-term connection with another person doesn’t work out.”

He wanted to say something, knew he should say something, but his words failed him. How could Laurel think that about herself? None of what had happened the last five years was her fault.

Laurel shrugged. “Now I’ve made things awkward with Tommy, and then there’s you and me.”

“I thought you didn’t want there to be a you and me,” he said, just loud enough that it might be heard.

“There can’t be, because we’re not—” She cut herself off, looking away from him sharply.

In spite of himself, Oliver felt something like hope. “Not what, Laurel?”

She drew in and let out a breath. “There’s a lot that I’ve been trying to work through, to figure out, these last few months. And I think you have been, too. But there’s a lot we’re not saying to each other.”

His head bowed as reality caught up with him. The Hood. He could never really speak freely with Laurel as long as he was the Hood. And he had to be.

“I still — I want to be there for you. Even as a friend.” A confession of some kind was trying to claw its way up his throat urged on by some voice that sounded suspiciously like Diggle, why not just tell her? — but he tamped it down.

“I do, too,” she agreed softly. “I just don’t know how much it can help.”

“Laurel.” He caught her hand as she pushed off the wall. “You being there for me since I’ve been back, it means more than you could know.”

She gave his hand a squeeze before letting it slip out of hers, their fingers tangling briefly before their arms both fell back to their sides.

“Then I guess...I’ll see you around, Ollie.”

Laurel turned and walked down the hall to the stairs, and there was nothing he could do.

That was a lie; he could call her back, tell her everything about why he’d been so strange and secretive since his return, how it was all to keep her and his family safe — but that was it, wasn’t it? He loved Laurel so much that he wanted her by his side through it all, but he loved her too much to put her in danger.

As long as his mission lasted, he had no choice but to let her walk away.

[istanhooman]

Didn't think I'd see Totally here 0.0

Do you have any ships? I think Oliver and Gingerale are adorable cuz the defender relationships are my comfy place >^>

WAIT YESYESYESYES OKAY HERE: ~ I also love Oliver x Gingerale, because yesss the defender ships are the best. Angry tsundere and anxious boi sjfekljelk. Okay, so I really like to think that Gingerale’s like, the comfy place Oliver goes to. Like, if it’s a little too stormy and he can’t sleep- and Gingerale’s all “Ugh fiiiiiiiine.” but secretly enjoys the attention like- sfjke. Oliver’s easy to pick on, so Gingerale’s going to be next to him 24/7 anyway. Not like the blue kitty’s upset about it, he appreciates the bodyguard-boyfriend ~ I said this in my last post, but I think Aidan and Cinder would be- MUUUUUAH CHEF’S KISS. If we imagine Cinder’s only real murder was the kitten, and that was her trying to defend herself and in a moment of anger, I think it’d be fine to think she only needs someone to actually care. If she joined the twins’ family, HOOOO-WEEEE IS SHE GETTING CARE. Their parents, after asking Totally, are the average couple. Exhausted while taking care of the twins, but they get more sleep now so- I think Aidan starts just by thinking she’s cute before slowly realizing that he actually kinda likes her- and after pestering her non-stop, Cinder snaps and Aidan backs off (because who wouldn’t??) and she realizes she misses being pestered and goes back to apologize and explain that she’s not used to attention and only really knows angry reactions - super embarassed. and they just kinda go from there. I love it. You love it. YOU LOVE IT DON’T LIE TO ME. ~ So, the next two are messy. I think Nadia would totally fall for Two-Tone. And the black-and-white tom just- doesn’t really understand how love works? So he’ll just accept it as it is, since it makes one of his friends happy (and lowkey gives him lil butterflies hehe). Nadia’s probably more well-versed on how this works than her brother, considering she’s really pretty by canon. I bet she’s had to deal with toms going after her, maybe dating a few? I dunno, but she lands on Two-Tone and it’s cute. She’s really good at dealing with his random, out-of-it attitude, maybe even finding it charming. ~ This is where is gets messy. I’m on the fence on Toby x Two-Tone. Like, I think it’d be cute, but also I appreciate their wholesome friendship y’know? I came up with two different routes with basically the same plot. Romance: Toby’s had a huge crush on Two-Tone since forever and was too scared to tell him, so when he realized that Nadia was able to ask him out without issue because the cat doesn’t really get it, destroyed him. Poor bby. Friendship: Toby and Two-Tone have been friends since kithood, so I have no doubt he’d be shocked at the suddenness that Nadia and Two-Tone started going out. Or the cat equivalent, considering they have human thoughts and emotions. Either way, Toby gets really jealous because he suddenly has his crush/friend’s (whichever one you like best) time and attention taken away. And as much as he’d rather NOT hate Nadia, he can’t help it. Toby has other friends, sure, I have no doubt he’s super popular, but- that’s his best friend :( ~ We only have Milo left without repeating, but I don’t really think he has a match here. Unless I pair him with Oliver in the same sense of comfort. Anxious bby needs comfort. Or maybe his fatherly personality can fix Cinder’s issues? Maybe he can just be wholesome with Nadia or, once again more comfort, he helps Toby get over the jealousy by averting the tom’s attention. Idk, but he deserves loveeee.

[dfroza]

A new covenant

“Grace is central in God’s action here, and it has nothing to do with deeds prescribed by the law. If it did, grace would not be grace.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 11th chapter of the letter of Romans:

Now I ask you, has God rejected His people? Absolutely not! I’m living proof that God is faithful. I am an Israelite, Abraham’s my father, and Benjamin’s my tribe. God has not, and will not, abandon His covenant people; He always knew they would belong to Him. Don’t you remember the story of what happens when Elijah pleads with God to deal with Israel? The Scripture tells us his protest: “Lord, they have murdered Your prophets, they have demolished Your altars, and I alone am left faithful to You; now they are seeking to kill me.” How does God answer his pleas for help? He says, “I have held back 7,000 men who are faithful to Me; none have bowed a knee to worship Baal.” The same thing is happening now. God has preserved a remnant, elected by grace. Grace is central in God’s action here, and it has nothing to do with deeds prescribed by the law. If it did, grace would not be grace.

Now what does all this mean? Israel has chased an end it has never reached. Yet those chosen by God through grace have reached it while all others were made hard as stones. The Scriptures continue to say it best:

God has confounded them so they are not able to think,

given them eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear,

Down to this very day.

David says it this way:

Let their table be turned into a snare and a trap,

an obstacle to peace and payback for their hostility.

Let their bright eyes become cloudy, darkened so they cannot see,

and bend their proud backs through it all.

So I ask: did God’s people stumble and fall off the deep end? Absolutely not! They are not lost forever; but through their misconduct, the door has been opened for salvation to extend even to the outsiders. This has been part of God’s plan all along, and so is the jealousy that comes when they realize the outsiders have been welcomed into God’s new covenant. So if their misconduct leads ultimately to God’s riches coming to the world and if their failure turns into the blessing of salvation to all people, then how much greater will be the riches and blessing when they are included fully?

But I have this to say to all of you who are not ethnic Jews: I am God’s emissary to you, and I honor this call by focusing on what God is doing with and through you. I do this so that somehow my own blood brothers and sisters will be made jealous; and that, I trust, will bring some to salvation. If the fact that they are currently set aside resolves the hostility between God and the rest of the world, what will their acceptance bring if not life from the dead? If the first and best of the dough you offer is sacred, the entire loaf will be as well. If the root of the tree is sacred, the branches will be also.

Imagine some branches are cut off of the cultivated olive tree and other branches of a wild olive (which represents all of you outsiders) are grafted in their place. You are nourished by the root of the cultivated olive tree. It doesn’t give you license to become proud and self-righteous about the fact that you’ve been grafted in. If you do boast, remember that the branches do not sustain the root—it is the system of roots that nourishes and supports you.

I can almost hear some of you saying, “Branches had to be pruned to make room for me.” Yes, they were. They were removed because they did not believe; and you will stay attached, be strong, and be productive only through faith. So don’t think too highly of yourselves; instead, stand in awe of God’s mercy. Besides we know that God did not spare the natural branches, so there is no reason to think He will spare you. Witness the simultaneous balance of the kindness and severity of our God. Severity is directed at the fallen branches withering without faith. Yet kindness is directed at you. So live in the kindness of God or else prepare to be cut off yourselves. If those branches that have been cut from the tree do not stay in unbelief, then God will carefully graft them back onto the tree because He has the power to do that. So if it is possible for you to be taken from a wild olive tree and become part of a cultivated olive tree, imagine how much easier it would be to reconnect branches that originally grew on that olive tree.

My brothers and sisters, I do not want you to be in the dark about this mystery—I am going to let you in on the plan so that you will not think too highly of yourselves. A part of Israel has been hardened to the good news until the full number of those outside the Jewish family have entered in. This is the way that all of Israel will be saved. As it was written, so it also stands:

The Deliverer will come from Zion;

He will drive away wickedness from Jacob.

And this is My covenant promise to them,

on the day when I take away their sins.

It may seem strange. When it comes to the work of the gospel, the fact that they oppose it is actually for your benefit. But when you factor in God’s election, they are truly loved because they descended from faithful forefathers. You see, when God gives a grace gift and issues a call to a people, He does not change His mind and take it back. There was a time when you outsiders were disobedient to God and at odds with His purpose, but now you have experienced mercy as a result of their disobedience. In the same way, their disobedience now will make a way for them to receive mercy as a result of the mercy shown to you. For God has assigned all of us together—Jews and non-Jews, insiders and outsiders—to disobedience so He can show His mercy to all.

We cannot wrap our minds around God’s wisdom and knowledge! Its depths can never be measured! We cannot understand His judgments or explain the mysterious ways that He works! For,

Who can fathom the mind of the Lord?

Or who can claim to be His advisor?

Or,

Who can give to God in advance

so that God must pay him back?

For all that exists originates in Him, comes through Him, and is moving toward Him; so give Him the glory forever. Amen.

The Letter of Romans, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

A set of notes from The Voice translation:

The cultivated olive tree provides Paul with a beautiful image of how believing Jews and non-Jews were organically connected in the plan of God. Life flows from the earth to the branches—some natural, some grafted in—through the rootstock. Paul wants to make sure the grafted branches know they have not arrived on their own; their spiritual life and vitality flow from the root, Israel. God is the Farmer who has tenderly grafted them into the sturdy stock on the basis of faith. So pride and arrogance are completely out of place for those grafted branches. They will bear fruit only as they remain connected by faith to the stock.

Paul says that God’s mysterious plan for the ages is being revealed as the number of outsiders swells in the churches and as a part of Israel is hardened, at least for a time. But let’s not forget that hardening is not God’s unilateral action. Whatever hardening takes place happens first on our side before God reluctantly agrees. That part of Israel now hardened has already rejected God’s Anointed. Yet when the full complement of non-Jewish outsiders enters God’s kingdom, “all Israel will be saved.” But clearly “all Israel” can’t mean every last Jew, because Paul has already shown that not every son or daughter of Abraham is an heir to the promise.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 62nd chapter of the book of Isaiah:

I will not keep quiet for Zion’s sake;

I will not remain silent

Until Jerusalem’s justice shines like the light of a new day

and her liberation blazes like a torch in the dead of night.

Jerusalem, the nations of the world will witness your righteousness,

the most powerful world leaders will see your brilliance,

And you will be called something new, something brand new,

a name given by none other than the Eternal One.

And you will be the crowning glory of the Eternal’s power,

a royal crown cradled in His palm and held aloft by your God for all to see.

People won’t talk about you anymore

using words like “forsaken” or “empty.”

Instead, you will be called “My delight” and the land around you “Married,”

because the Eternal is pleased with you and has bound Himself to your land.

As a young man marries the woman he loves,

so your sons will marry you, Jerusalem.

As a groom takes joy in his bride,

so your God will take joy in you.

I have stationed watchmen on your walls, Jerusalem.

Day and night, they never stop calling out.

You, too, must not rest or grow silent;

keep reminding the Eternal to watch over Jerusalem.

Tirelessly pester God—give Him no rest—until He reestablishes Jerusalem

and makes it worthy of praise throughout the whole world.

The Eternal has promised with all divine power and might:

Eternal One: I will never again turn over your assets to your enemies,

never feed them from your grain stores

Or give them the wine you have labored to produce.

Instead, those who harvest the grain will eat its bounty,

and offer praise to the Eternal;

And those who gather the grapes will drink of their richness

in the courtyards outside the temple.

So ready yourselves to pass through the gates, from old to new.

Clear the way for the people;

Make it clear, easy, and straight.

Unfurl the banners that proclaim these people are renewed!

For none other than the Eternal has announced for all to hear—

Eternal One: Say to the daughter of Zion

“See, your salvation is coming; your liberation is on the way—

God’s reward is with Him: His work is by His side.”

And they will be called “The Holy People, Redeemed by the Eternal”;

Jerusalem’s new name will be “Desirable City, No Longer Forsaken.”

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 62 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

A divine drama is played out with the chorus on one side, the soloist on the other. The “people” ask a question, and God rings out a response. Dramatic, to say the least. What trials and tribulations the Israelites have been through! What highs and lows! It is all God’s doing in response to their faithlessness. But this is history, and now they find themselves living and working in a brand new time; a new day is coming—of restoration, peace, and glorious reputation for God’s people such as they’ve never had before. The renewal is international in scope, without peer in the world. And this, too, is God’s doing. His capacity for mercy is great. He loves His people beyond comprehension. This is why He should be recognized and appreciated by all as the one True God. He keeps saving and delivering, restoring and supporting the people, just as God has done since that moment of binding promise made so long ago.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, August 27 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about loving the truth:

People perish because "they refuse to love the truth and so be saved" (2 Thess. 2:10-12). Therefore the issue of truth - physical, moral, aesthetic, spiritual, etc. - is central to salvation.

====

In the New Testament, the Greek word metanoia (and its related verb, metanao) is the most commonly used word to express the idea of “repentance.” The compound word is formed from 'μετα' (after, with) and 'νοεω' (to think) and generally means “changing your mind” (in the noun form) or “thinking differently” (in the verb form). Since it can also represent an “afterthought” expressed emotionally as disappointment over a loss of some kind, metanoia is similar to the idea of nacham (נָחַם) in the Hebrew Scriptures, which literally means to “sigh” as a way of expressing regret or consolation. The Greek word strepho (στρέφω), like the Hebrew word shuv (שׁוּב), means to “return” to God in a practical sense, that is, by performing acts of contrition. In either case, however, a change of direction is implied, and that change ultimately begins with how we think and what we regard as truth. Repentance, then, involves a new vision, a new way of seeing reality...

Yeshua's earthly ministry began with the message, "The time has come and the kingdom of God draws near: repent (μετανοεῖτε) and believe (πιστεύετε) the good news" (Mark 1:15). These two verbs (repent, believe) are in the imperative mood. We are commanded to repent, to "change our thinking," and to turn away from hopelessness - and the sin that hopelessness begets - by accepting God’s intervention and deliverance. But you cannot believe if you do not first turn, and therefore you must change your focus: clear away the world’s distractions and ready your heart to hear the message. It is in the desert places that we "prepare the way of the Lord and make straight a highway for our God" (Isa. 40:3).

Note that the word translated “prepare” (i.e., panu) comes from a root word (פָּנָה) that means to turn to face someone... The Hebrew word panim (פָּנִים), “face,” comes from the same root, as does the word penimi (פְּנִימִי), “inner,” and the word penimiyut (פְּנִימִיוּת), meaning “inwardness” or “immanency.” This suggests that we must go within our own hearts, and there, in our "desert places," we will encounter the Presence of the LORD. It is in the solitude of the desert - away from the noise and distractions of this vain world, where we can focus our heart, confess our sin, and express our great need for God... Being honest with ourselves makes us yashar (יָשַׁר), and crooked ways are made straight for God to be received... The Hebrew word mesilah (מְסִלָּה) alludes to the ladder (i.e., sullam: סֻלָּם) that Jacob saw in the desert when he received the blessing of God (Gen. 28:12). Yeshua is the Bridge, or Ladder (הַסֻּלָּם), that unites and mediates heaven and earth (John 1:51).

Since God holds us responsible to repent and believe the truth of the gospel (Acts 17:30-31), He must have made it possible for us to do so (“ought” implies “can”). And indeed, God has created us in His image so that we are able to discern spiritual truth. He created us with a logical sense (rationality) as well as a moral sense (conscience) so that we can apprehend order and find meaning in the universe He created. All our knowledge presupposes this. Whenever we experience anything through our senses, for example, we use logic to categorize and generalize from the particular to the general, and whenever we make deductions in our thinking (comparing terms, making inferences, and so on), we rely on logic. We have an innate intellectual and moral “compass” that points us to God.

Since we all necessarily must think in order to live, we should value clear thinking. This should be obvious enough, though people often make various errors and misjudgments because they devalue the effort required to carefully think through a question. As William James once said, “A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.” When it comes to questions about the gospel, however, God regards such carelessness to be blameworthy. Again, the LORD holds us accountable for what we think and believe, especially when it comes to the reality and mission of His Son.

The truth about God is always available to human beings, if they are earnestly willing to look for it. The Divine Light that was created before the sun and the stars represents God’s immanent presence that “lights up” all of creation - including our minds (Gen. 1:3). As Paul stated, “the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen so that people are without excuse” (Rom. 1:19-20). The heavens are constantly attesting to the reality of God’s handiwork (Psalm 19:1). All of creation “shouts out” that there is a God. Even small children understand this.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 19:7 Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm19-7-lesson.pdf

Hebrew audio:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm19-7-jjp.mp3

Note: For more on this subject, see “Teshuvah of the Mind" here:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Holidays/Fall_Holidays/Elul/Metanoia/metanoia.html

8.25.23 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

August 27, 2023

The Danger of Diluting Scripture

“And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book.” (Revelation 22:19)

This final testimony and warning of Christ to those who profess to be His followers is a clear command not to either augment (Revelation 22:18) or dilute the inspired “words” (not just “thoughts”) of the Bible. There are many people in the various cults following some leader who thinks he or she has received some new inspired word from God. That is very unwise. But it’s usually certain leaders in the mainline denominations who presumptuously either cull out or explain away those Bible verses they consider unscientific or offensive in some way. That’s even more dangerous, for those whose names are not found “in the book of life” will be “cast into the lake of fire” (Revelation 20:15).

Whether men believe it or not, the Bible is the inerrant Word of God. It’s true that any two Christians may interpret certain passages in different ways. But they won’t be too far apart if they believe the Bible to be the inerrant, understandable, inspired Word of God, especially if they really believe God is able to say what He means. The Bible authors do occasionally use figurative language, of course, in which case any symbols are usually explained in context. When the writer clearly intends to be understood literally, as in the first chapter of Genesis, for example, it’s dangerous to impose some metaphorical meaning on the passage because of outside considerations. This seems to be what Paul called “handling the word of God deceitfully” (2 Corinthians 4:2) and can become a very slippery slope for those who choose that broad and easy way. It will be easier at Christ’s judgment seat to explain why we believed God than why we believed men who questioned God. HMM

[winterflash-2019]

Crossing Paths pt 4

 Part 3

The next day you were pacing in the middle of the cortex. You had to leave since now Cisco knew exactly what needed to be done to save your son it’s just one obstacle in the way, Barry. You had no idea how to tell the speedster you had to leave, sure he would understand…right.

“Hey y/n” You freeze when you hear Barry’s voice from behind you. You slowly turn around and put a small smile on your face but he saw right through you considering he had an advantage since he was married to you.

“What’s wrong” He asks before sitting down in a computer chair. You sigh and walk towards him, nervously rubbing your hands on your jeans Caitlin gave to you they were tight since your hips were a little wider than Caits.

“Listen Barry I um…I’m leaving” You held your breath as you prepare yourself for his reaction but all you see is him staring back at you strangely.

“Okay”

“What”

“I understand I just wish we had more time together you know…I want to know more about my son” You pursed your lips together as you stared at your husband with pure love. Sitting down next to him you pull out your phone and go to the photo gallery and showing him a picture of Hayden.

“He was 5” You whisper and Barry looks at the picture, speechless as his eyes watered.

“He’s beautiful y/n” He says quietly as a tear slides down his face and you wipe it away before kissing his cheek.

“I love you Barry” You whisper before looking behind him to see Iris staring at the both of you with jealousy on her face.

“The portals ready” She says before rolling her eyes and walking back to the others. You and Barry stand up and you put out a hand for him to grab which he does and the two of you follow Irises steps.

_

“I’ll miss you guys, it was strange being here but I loved it” You giggle as you hug Joe

“Be careful” He whispers

“Don’t worry I will” You say as you looked at Barry who looked as if he was going to cry, he didn’t know when he’ll meet you in his time but little did he know you were going to walk right into his life real soon. You take a deep breath before turning around and walking into the portal, leaving nothing but a bright light where you once were.

Barry sighs and Caitlin rubs his back before walking back into the cortex.

“Barry can we talk” Iris asks and Barry nods, following her into a nearby room.

“What’s going on”

“What do you mean”

“I mean, what’s happening to us barr it’s like you don’t love me anymore ever since y/n came here and told you that she was your wife…you haven’t really paid attention to me, your actual wife”

“Iris I know okay and I’m sorry…I really am it’s just she needed me my son is in danger Iris, our son and she came here to save him so I just-“

“Barry, she told you she loved you how you think that makes me feel huh…to know that we’re not going to be together forever, to know that you have a child with someone else Barry the whole point of us getting married was because we loved each other…I’m Iris West-Allen”.

“Iris please-“

“No…I-I want a divorce” She lets the tears fall as she sighs before walking away and Barry just stood there in shock.

-

2 months later team Flash was still dealing with Devoe and it was frustrating Barry to the max. So many things were going on and he was growing tired of it. He walked into Jitters and ordered his usual, waiting for his order he looked around the café and stopped when he saw you sitting at a high table and typing away on your laptop. This is it, this is his chance to finally have you in his life for good.

He heard his name being called so he paid and grabbed his coffee before turning around to make sure you were still in the café.

“Excuse me” He says to get your attention and you look up and his heart stops. Not seeing you for 2 months really took a toll on him and seeing you smile at him right now is exactly what he needed.

“Hi um I-I saw you sitting here and I w-wanted t-to tell you that you’re very pretty” He cringes and you blush at his words

“Thank you so much…” You look at his coffee cup

“Barry” You say with a soft smile and his heart melts

“Can I sit with you” He politely ask and you nod

“So, what you writing” He asks while twiddling his thumbs. He was so nervous even though he talked to you already…it was like flashpoint all over again.

“oh, I’m CCPN’s newest journalist, right now I’m just finishing up on one of my biggest reports” You reply while looking at your computer screen and Barry stares at your face that has concentration written all over it.

“Wow congratulations I can tell already your stories are good although I haven’t read any yet” You giggle as you look at him over your laptop.

“I feel like I’ve met you before” You smile with squinted eyes and he panics

“Nope, I don’t really recall meeting a beautiful woman” He smirks and you sheepishly place a stray hair behind your ear.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Barry” You joke and he chuckles. Barry finally felt whole again you were the piece he was missing as time went on it became easier to talk to you and he was having a blast before his phone ranged.

“Sorry I have to take this”

“No, it’s fine go ahead”

“Hello”

“Barry where are you, you were supposed to be at the precinct an hour ago”

“Oh, hi Joe, um about that…I’m on way right now” He hangs up and looks at you like he was caught stealing from a cookie jar.

“I’m sorry but duty calls” He stands up and you gather your things

“it’s alright…I tell you what how about we meet each other here again tomorrow for lunch” You say while stuffing your laptop in your computer bag and Barry smiles down at you.

“Yeah I would like that y/n”

“How do you know my name” You say with a teasing smile

“O-Oh um I-I” Barry stutters and you laugh

“Barry I’m joking you must have saw it on my cup” Barry relaxes and you place both hands on his shoulders

“Calm down cutie, see you tomorrow?” You ask as you stood by the door

“Yeah see you tomorrow” He smiles and you wink before turning around and exiting Jitters.

_

The next day Barry was thinking about you non-stop.

“Barry” Cisco calls out and he breaks away from his thoughts.

“Sorry Cisco I was thinking about something”

“If you’re still thinking about Iris man I swear-“

“No, I-I’m not”

Silence soon filled the room and Cisco smirks

“you met y/n didn’t you” He says and Barry smiles while looking at the ground

“Yeah”

“Well dude get with her before somebody else does”

“Cisco I have a date with her in a few so I should be fine” He rolls his eyes and Caitlin walks in with a cup of coffee

“What’s this about a date I hear”

“Barry met y/n yesterday” Cisco blurts and Barry looks at him with a seriously face.

“Dude…for real?”

“My bad”

“That’s great did you tell Joe?”

“Not really I don’t want to considering Iris till comes around and he might tell her then it’ll be even more awkward then it already is.” When the words left his mouth his phone beeps, letting him know it was 12:00.

“well I got to go bye” and with that Barry runs off to Jitters but stops at the flower shop along the way.

As soon as he walks in he spots you sitting down at the same table from yesterday your hair curled with an olive-green shirt and matching short skirt with heels.

He clears his throat and you look his direction and he peeks from behind the white roses he held with a goofy smile on his face and you stand up and hug him with a huge smile.

“These are for you”

“Wow Barry, these are really beautiful” you smile and place them on the table

“Only the best for you” He flirts and you raise your eyebrows teasingly while he takes a seat across from you.

“You look beautiful y/n” He compliments and you smile

“Thank you”

“I’ll go order for us, what would you like”

“Just an expresso for me please”

“Anything for a beautiful lady” You blush at his choice of words and he leaves to go order.

-

The lunch date was going great, Barry was pretty sure there will be more dates in the future hopefully you would be his girlfriend by then.

“I read your article and let me say wow you are so badass”

“Well I try” You laugh and Barry grabs your hand, entwining his fingers with yours and smiles

“I really like you y/n” You nervously smile as you held your breath while staring directly into Barry’s eyes but before he could say anything else he hears the door to Jitters open and he look to see Iris walking through the door and instantly spotting him sitting across from you.

Furrowing her eyebrows and letting out a frustrated sigh she says

“Barry”

Tag list:

@onceuponateenpanwolfian

Back at it again with another upload. I’m having way too much fun with this series hope you guys like it.

- winterflash-2019

[fulcrumahsokaamidala]

Sunday Spectacular #22

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ They are posted in the order I read them. All posts will be tagged #spectacular fic rec

I Will Take Care of You, Always by @hope-for-olicity​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity calls in sick to work and Oliver becomes very worried. Set in S2 before the Russia trip!

stranded in their youth by @alexiablackbriar13​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Mia accidentally ends up stranded and injured in 2015 after her Time Courier breaks. Oliver and Felicity, who are secretly married and enjoying a long vacation in Ivy Town, find their future daughter panicking in their backyard.

A difficult journey begins for them as they try and return Mia to 2041 while avoiding temporal aberrations, all the while dealing with the various trials and tribulations of learning to bond as parents and daughter along the way.

Fallen Angel by @it-was-a-red-heeler​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity’s happiness in Starling City is disrupted when John Diggle asks for Oliver’s help on a case. What they uncover will threaten the couple’s relationship and both their lives.

The Ravager by @laxit21​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson's plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn't anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he's trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man's world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra's al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter's existence.

Flirting with the Devil by @oliversmuse​ | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Oliver and Felicity are on a mission in Los Angeles when they are left with no choice but to seek the help of Lucifer Morningstar. Lucifer is good looking, charming and quite the flirt and when he meets Oliver and Felicity that flirting is put into overdrive. He is particularly drawn to Felicity. This brings Oliver's jealousy to the forefront and Felicity's babbling to a peak. Oliver is not happy that he has to ask for Lucifer's help but he might be the only one that can help save their mission.

(i’ll show you) who this heart beats for by @dust2dust34​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Sequel to (i will be the fire) that keeps you warm, and the second story in my spontaneous “The Artie Chronicles” series. It’s Valentine’s Day and Oliver and Artie have a very important question for Felicity.

Sympathy for the Devil by @thatmasquedgirl​ | Arrow | Oneshot

Summary: Felicity is supposed to be forgetting a hard week, not flirting with the club owner that she sometimes works for. He has other ideas. Another Olicity AU, this time involving drinking, a couple of pianos, and a very flirty Oliver Queen.

It’s in the Air by @emmilynestill​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: December 23, 2016. It’s Mayor Queen’s first holiday party and love is in the air. No, wait, that’s tension in the air. Bitterness. Regret. Painful longing for one’s former love. Awkward interactions with current significant others. A little humiliation mixed in. Yup, this was one great party. Then the gas came. Maybe love was in the air afterall.

**Just my usual lock Oliver and Felicity in a room with a mind-altering substance with a dash of holiday magic thrown in. And, by magic, I mean Sex Pollen. And maybe a little Truth Serum to stir things up.**

Pieces of Always by @so-caffeinated​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. You do not need to have read FiCoN to enjoy this, but it will spoil the end.

Like Real People Do by more0rLessJess | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity Smoak has had a rough couple of years and all she wants to do is move on with her life and start her own tech company. After an incident at Queen Consolidated, she quit and accepted a job working as a technical analyst and computer expert at the Starling City Police Department, where she’s stuck for at least another year thanks to the non-compete clause she signed in her Queen Consolidated contract. But as much as she’d rather be in the tech world, she does love being able to help others. Plus she gets to do that with the help of a certain Detective, who she may or may not be attracted too. Oliver Queen just finished five years in the Army Special Forces and is only working as an SCPD Detective because his best friend and fellow soldier, John Diggle, said it would be good for him to help pull his life together after years of hardships in the military. Oliver expected to hate the job, but what he never expected was meeting the IT girl with a heart of gold and her own demons to deal with. Captain Quentin Lance just wants a functioning police department.

let it be me by  imfallingforyoureyes102 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: (Or, Tommy's at the hospital with an injured Laurel, ten times pissed at Oliver, when he sees the man himself racing past Laurel's room and to the ER. Tommy's quick to stop him - quick to scream furiously at the man he once called his best friend - but then there's a doctor and Ms. Smoak may not make it through the night and the man that Tommy once knew as indestructible and sturdy and strong is shattering into a million pieces).

The Line || by @someonesaidcake​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity Smoak is no one special.  Her life is simple, her job pays the bills, and she prefers it that way.  But, when her roommate goes missing and no one is prepared to look for her, Felicity embarks down a path she might not easily come back from… if at all.

It’s a path that puts Felicity directly in the crosshairs of the Cártel de la Sangre, and ultimately into the arms, and bed, of the very man who might have the answers, Oliver Queen.  He’s bad news with pale eyes and a devil’s smile that hides a world of secrets, while she reminds him of innocence and of everything he lost to become who he is.

Set into the dark backdrop of drugs, sex, and murder, both of these strangers are willing to cross lines in search of the truth. But at what cost? 

i like my body when it is with your body by cmbing | Brooklyn NIne-Nine | One-shot

Summary: “Have you seen that really hot detective up on the fourth floor?”

“Have I? I’ll admit it—I have snuck up to use their copier just to see him.”

(or, amy finds out that jake is the hot guy of the precinct)

William Darcy Diaries by elizabeth_darcy | Lizzie Bennet Diaries | Completed

Summary: AU where it's Darcy who has the video blog, not Lizzie. Instead of writing her a letter, he sends her a link to his vlog to explain everything. How does their relationship change when Lizzie can see Darcy's perspective play out on screen?

From Russia with Love by  griever11 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Rookie FBI Agent and resident IT extraordinaire Felicity Smoak has just landed the assignment of a lifetime. Together with Supervisory Senior Agent Diggle, she returns to Starling City undercover in an attempt to flush out the elusive Odessa gang that has been a thorn in the Bureau's side for many years.

Leader of the Russian mob Oliver Queen stumbles upon a piece of information that unfortunately requires a certain set of hacking skills that no one he knows seems to possess. Lucky for him, he comes across an unusual criminal hacker who has mysteriously turned up in Starling and funnily enough, seems just right for the job. How's that for perfect timing?

Almost Lover by lust_muffin | Arrow | WIP

Summary: After the siege, after the whole mess with Slade Wilson, after telling Felicity he loved her without meaning it (but totally meaning it), things hadn't been great between them. Tension was running high, they had problems communicating when that was something that never happened before and Laurel... Laurel was making everything worse. Until one night, she went too far. And that was the point that changed their lives forever.Or a "what would Oliver and Felicity's life be like if they got together sooner?"

And then you walked into my life by @oliversmuse​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Felicity Smoak is a down on her luck IT specialist who has taken a job walking dogs. She enjoys the animals and less stress but she wants to get back into her field as soon as she can. Oliver Queen is a CEO of the most lucrative tech company in Star City. He has recently adopted a new puppy as a way to relieve his stress and decides to hire a dog walker. He never expects the blonde haired, blue-eyed beauty that shows up at his door and will change his life forever.

The Daughter That Was Left Behind by @laxit21​| Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

Artemis by @laxit21​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen's Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

Time in a Bottle  by MaryESP | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Being woken by a call from Digg telling her, "Just leaving the manor. We'll pick you up in 30 minutes," was confusing enough. Waking in her old apartment? That was pretty trippy, yeah, but what REALLY threw her was how normal her boobs felt. She's going to kill Barry. Or the Monitor. Or whoever the FRAK did this. (Felicity falls asleep in late 2019 and wakes up six years earlier in 2013)

Soon You’ll Get Better by @stephswims​ | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity finds a lump on her breast.

 @hope-for-olicity @emdee8907 @malafle @laxit21 @icannotbelieveiamhere

[wildroseofarran]

Taking Steps || Quintane

Tane: Tane took a deep breath and stared at Q's door, trying not to fidget. It had been a week since his fight with Q, and in that time Q had done such a thorough job of ignoring him and freezing him out that he was sincerely starting to wonder if Q truly hated him now. Hell, he wouldn't even look in his direction anymore.

That's why Tane was standing here. It was time to apologize for being an asshole and make things right.

He shifted the plate he was carrying and knocked on the door.

Q: He had indeed gone to great lengths to ignore Tane Lukela, but it wasn't just their argument, though it was the largest factor. Problems had piled from every direction, and today like every day he was doing his best to process them.

The door was opened. Olive cargo pants were all Q Traxler wore. He scratched at his calf with his right foot. Bags rested under his eyes, skin as pale as it had been that night in Kitty Hawk.

He said nothing, only stared.

Tane: Meanwhile, Tane was dressed like it was the throes of autumn. Any significant dip in temperature and he was reaching for a jacket.

He adjusted his grip on the plate and bag he carried, trying not to look like he'd been pining as he took another deep breath.

"Hey."

Q: Slowly, the door was opened, still saying not a word. He turned and headed to the kitchen.

Tane: Tane waited a beat before stepping inside. It wasn't exactly an invitation, but it wasn't a rejection either. That had to be a good sign, right?

He closed the door with his leg and followed Q to the kitchen. Here went nothing.

"I'd planned to make some small talk but I hate small talk and you already get enough of that every day so I'm just going get right to it.

"I'm sorry, Q. I was an asshole. I'd been having a shitty few days and I ended up taking it out on you, which is the last thing I ever want to do."

Q: Q was stirring something into his glass of what looked like Monster energy drink. He was listening, but keeping his eyes to himself.

"I touched you and you didn't want it. I had my own shit going on and I still do. Not everything is your fault."

That being said, he crossed the tiny house for his phone on the charger.

"I recorded my conversation with Logan."

Tane: "Even so, I could've handled it better. And I am sorry, for what happened and that you've been having a rough time."

He would've kept going, but the sudden revelation had him blinking. "You--what?"

Q: "I told you I would. I was going to regardless if we're through." The phone was handed over.

Tane: Tane took the phone, but he felt weird about listening to the recording. Like he was invading Logan's privacy. "I thought you were just going to talk her and then tell me what she said."

Q: "I'm not in the mood for talking to you. I'll say too much, do too much, like I always do."

Tane: "Q..." Tane set down the phone and all his cargo. "I don't want you to feel like you have to censor yourself around me or walk on eggshells. If you really don't want to deal with me today that's fine, I'll leave, but please don't feel like you have to put on a mask or something with me. You don't."

Q: A hand rested on the counter, listening again, but trying to find a meaningful way to respond. The only response to mind was to blurt out the truth. He couldn't just do that. Not to Tane.

"You don't know what you're saying."

Tane: "I'm a grown man, Q. I do know what I'm saying. If I wasn't prepared to accept you as you are, I wouldn't have befriended you or gone on vacation with you and I definitely wouldn't be here now. My track record hasn't been the best so far but I'm trying to work on it. I want to make it up to Logan and I want to make it up to you. And not just by apologizing."

Tane took the bag off the coffee table and offered it. "Open it."

Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was something Q would definitely recognize and hopefully remember from one of their conversations.

Q: Goddammit, T.

"Tane, you just..." Alright, he would open it. The look on his face was anything but humor. Something about little Gizmo broke his heart and it showed.

"You idiot," he whispered.

Tane: "You said you always wanted one," Tane said softly. Had he miscalculated? He'd thought the little mogwai would make Q smile, but he instead he just looked...devastated. "This was the best I could do without reaching into the movie and grabbing him for you."

Q: "Tane, you don't understand." The gremlin was clutched to his chest. "You have to stop. This is going to hurt you, being nice to me."

Tane: "Why on earth would it hurt me? We both laid our cards on the table in Kitty Hawk. Even if nothing happens between us I still want you in my life. I didn't just befriend you with the aim to make you have feelings for me. I like you. Not just in a romantic kinda way but in a person way. In a friend way."

Q: It was too much to bear, to accept Tane as this man laying his heart on the line to know he would just leave eventually.

He rubbed his temple and dropped his hand. He couldn't. "I'm - I sleep with people for money, T. Men and women. I don't care. I sleep with both. I've been doing it for pretty much all of my adult life. You...You have to know this. I know Stacey knows this and she has a big mouth. Why are you wasting our time like this? Why are you making all of this fucking effort when you know it's pointless?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but it ended with a pleading tone.

Tane: Tane's voice was even and calm as he said, "I know." He could deny knowing about Q's profession, but what would be the point? It would only cause them trouble and probably heartache later on down the line.

"I've known for a while. Long before Kitty Hawk. And this effort I'm making? It may seem pointless to you but it isn't to me. I'm not wasting my time, I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing with it. This effort, as you call it? Very deliberate and freely given. Why? Because I like you and I care about you. Your profession doesn't change that. One fight doesn't change that."

Q: "You...knew?" Now he wanted to throw Gizmo at Tane's face, but he liked it, so instead it was placed on the coffee table. "So that's why you kept saying no, isn't it? Don't want to fuck a whore, right? Don't want to fall for me? This is that effort I'm talking about. Why the fuck are you pulling me close then pushing me back? How the fuck do you want me?"

Tane: "Yes, I knew." Still calm, still even. "I didn't want to fuck you because one, it was the anniversary of my best friends' death and I was gutted and two, because of the feelings I've had for you since...well, quite frankly it feels like forever. I told you in Kitty Hawk I wasn't ready to take that step with you and I'm still not. Like you said earlier, not everything is your fault. I asked you to be patient with me. That's why I pushed you away. Not because you sleep with people for money, not because I didn't want to fall for you. I already fell for you."

Q: It sounded too neat. It was a story wrapped in a pretty bow and he didn't want to get close to it.

"Just admit it, T. Just admit it. I won't be angry. There's no need to lie like this."

Tane: "I'm not lying to you. Don't project on me, Q. If you can't accept that someone would care about you for who you are and not what you do and would have feelings for you that were sincere, that makes me really sad but that's on you. I know what I feel."

Q: "What are you thinking in this fantasy of yours? That you can love me and accept that I'd fuck someone other than you? Are you telling me you're not jealous? Not curious who uses me in this town? Won't bat an eyelash when someone walks into The Brig and flirts with me? No, you won't bat an eyelash because this was never more than seeing me naked and kissing me. Going to keep your feelings just so, right?"

Tane: "Do not. Project. On me. Quintin," Tane said again, stepping closer with each word. "Don't try to put me in a box in that head of yours and dismiss everything I say when it turns out I don't fit into it. You seem to have conjured this image of me that's very different to the one in front of you. You just assume all my relationships have been monogamous, that I want to move into a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, that I'm some lovestruck moron who can't take things as they are and make decisions for himself.

"Well I'm here to tell you something very different." He stepped closer still. "You think I don't notice when someone flirts with you? I can name each and every single person in the past week who's come into the bar and flirted with you. I can tell you how long they looked at you and what part of you they looked at because yeah, I was jealous that you were paying attention to them and not to me.

"Did I enjoy kissing you, looking at your body? Of course I fucking did, I'm flesh and blood and I'm attracted to you and you know that. And miraculously, I can be attracted to you and have romantic feelings for you and not fucking care that you sleep with other people."

Q: Normally, Q would have held his ground, but with each step closer, a step back was made until his back touched the cold wall. His hiss was quiet and his eyes remained locked as Tane continued on with his explanation and berating.

"The last person to tell me that is dying, T. You can say that at first, and that can be believable right now, but eventually it'll catch up to you. You're not immune to the kind of jealousy that eats away at you. I know what you want. We've talked about it. I'm not that person. I don't believe in that shit for me. It's lovely and you should have it, but you can't have it with me."

Tane: Tane braced his hands on the wall on either side of Q, caging him in. "No, Q, you don't know what I want." That calm, even voice was so soft it was almost silk. "You think you do because of that box I mentioned earlier. All you know is that I have feelings for you. Everything else is my knowledge only, and it's going to stay that way for the foreseeable future because a person's entitled to keep some things to themselves.

"I'm not immune to jealousy. I've felt my share of it in life. I've never felt the kind that eats away at you because that's not how I'm wired. People aren't possessions to me. I don't believe in manipulating them into cages to satisfy ego and insecurity. One day I'll tell you about Shane, my boyfriend's boyfriend who made really great banana bread and told really dark jokes.

"I'm not the last person who said these things to you. I'm not dying. I'm me, and I'm right here."

Q: Leaning his shoulders against the wall, his hip jutted out, barely touching his guest.

"So, you're telling me, Big T, that all of those conversations we've had about love and relationships in the past were a lie? Why would you lie about it? What exactly do you want from me? You came here to apologize, to say you miss me? What else? I've given you the recording."

Tane: He shook his head. "No. I've only told you about one relationship, where I was being used and manipulated. I also mentioned being in love with my straight best friend when I was younger. Those weren't lies. They weren't my only relationships, and I don't think I ever said they were. I'm almost forty-three, Q. I've had a life, and other people have been a part of it. A couple of those people happened to be polyamorous. I'm not, but that didn't stop me from having relationships with them, and those relationships didn't end because of it."

Tane sighed. Q had a way of making him say more in one sitting than he had in his entire life. "I came here to set things right between us. I wasn't thinking about Logan when I was walking over here, I was practicing my apology. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I wanted to put an end to our fight and just...have everything go back to normal. And feed you. There's eggs benedict on that plate."

Q: It wasn't so much about the relationships, but the love in which Tane projected, the kind of relationship he had imagined based off of what he had described. It wasn't necessarily white picket fence, but it was something close. It was love and commitment and faithfulness and things he could not and would not offer. He didn't want a honeymoon spark with Tane for it to fizzle and drown. Tane meant more than a fleeting desire, and he hated that.

"I'm not hungry." Would he want to know why? If he believed in his conviction so much, why not? "Five thousand dollars from five university students. I haven't slept since I left my day shift yesterday because of it. My body is sore. I've been lying in bed watching Netflix."

Tane: Tane had had the types of relationships Q had imagined, but they hadn't all been that way. He'd only ever imagined the white picket fence deal with Logan's father, and that dream had died the moment he and Kelly had said their vows at the altar.

His dream of a loving relationship hadn't died along with that, nor had it died when Stacey had told him about what Q did for a living.

Was it really so strange to have an unconventional relationship that was sincere and loving? In Q's eyes, apparently so.

"Then you need to eat, sleep, soak in a hot bath, and drink water, not whatever energy drink is in that glass. Luckily for you, you don't have to cook. A meal literally came to your door."

Q: Q braved a step forward. "So now you're going to take care of me?"

Tane: "I always take care of you. You just don't always see it."

Q: "I've seen it. The way you chased Gill out of here. Are you why he's gone, too?"

Tane: At last, something other than fierce determination graced Tane's features.

He blinked in surprise. "What do you mean he's gone?"

Q: "He hasn't been to work in ages. Nothing from his phone nor his house. I needed him and someone drove him out of town."

Tane: "You don't need that piece of human garbage. I should send flowers to whoever made him leave."

Q: "I needed him because he had me in a vice."

Tane: "Does he still have you in one?"

Q: Q pulled down his pants to reveal his nudity free of metal and plastic.

Tane: "Apparently not. All the more reason to be glad he hit the bricks."

Q: "When we went to Kitty Hawk I was in one. I had been for days. I didn't want you to see me that way. I had to MacGyver the lock. He didn't appreciate that."

Tane: "Did he hurt you for taking it off?" Tane asked, frowning. He'd track that son of it bitch down and gut him if that was the case. Forcing Q to remain locked up was bad enough, but hurting him? That would not stand.

Q: "I don't need you to protect me. I appreciate what you did that night, but I was on...a lot of shit. I needed it that night. I don't always if ever. I need you to understand that."

Tane: "I know you don't need me to protect you. But there are going to be times when I do, especially from garbage like Gill."

Q: "He's why I have this apartment. I have money, but credit? Not the same. Without him I wouldn't be here. I don't know why I'm here, but I like it and I didn't need waves."

Tane: "Him providing you with your living doesn't excuse his behavior. There are lots of people who hire someone without treating them the way he treated you."

Q: "That's how it is, T." Q turned, removing his pants altogether to reveal the bruising and scratches over his ass. He then made his way back to bed, lying on top of the covers, stretching prone. "Some people want to buy a boyfriend, some just want a hole."

Tane: Tane frowned at the wounds. They weren't that serious, but he still hated that someone had put them there. Who could look at Q and not treat him like gold?

"And some people want to slather you with Neosporin."

Q: "If you're so fucking determined then go ahead, T. I won't stop you."

Tane: "You really can't stand me wanting to look after you a little, can you?" Tane wondered, making his way to the bathroom to search for the Neosporin.

Q: There was a container nearly full as it had only been used once. By the time Tane returned, Q had retrieved his drink and finished half of it. Netflix was being roamed quietly, once more keeping his eyes to himself.

Tane: Tane hadn't only grabbed the Neosporin, he'd grabbed some rubbing alcohol. It was probably overkill for a few scratches but better safe than sorry.

He worked quickly and carefully, cleaning each wound and soothing it. "So is this how it's gonna be now?" he asked quietly. "I try to be nice and you ignore me?"

Q: Q settled for a documentary and sighed.

"I expected something different. How could I not? You want me to rehash all the reasons why I expected it? I still don't know what you want from me. You expect us to go back to normal?"

Tane: "Is it really that weird that I've had a couple of open relationships along with non-open ones? Do you think less of me for it?"

He gave a sigh of his own. "I just want you to give me a chance, Q. To let me have hope even if you don't. It's my heart I'm risking."

Q: "You-" Q rolled onto his side. "-You think I'm not risking anything?" A pea green accent pillow was thrown at Tane's face.

Tane: He made to dodge the pillow, but wasn't quite fast enough. "I didn't say that. I said I was risking my heart. Are you telling me you're risking yours?"

Q: "I don't want you because I want you."

Tane: ".....What?"

Q: "I love honeymoons. I don't want you to be a honeymoon that disappears."

Tane: "What makes you think I would be? Am I that boring?"

Q: "I know me. I skydive. I don't hike."

Tane: "So I am that boring. I'm the hike."

Q: "Any relationship is going to be a hike for me. It's easier for people to pay for a night or a weekend. I've tried to tell you."

Tane: "I'm not asking you to overhaul your life and move in with me, Q. All I want is a chance."

Q: "A chance for what?" He wanted to roll over onto his back but he couldn't with medicine slathered everywhere.

Tane: "To...be with you. Get to know you, have adventures, go dates maybe. I'm not asking you to commit to me right here, right now. Just...to let me in."

Q: "Boyfriends, then? Boyfriends in an open relationship, where you wish me good luck when I go to my second job and sometimes come back sore?"

Tane: "It doesn't have to have a label if we don't want it to. It could just be us doing our own thing, going our own way. And really, is it so strange that I'd be okay with your second job?"

Q: "Yes, it would, because you're so goddamn perfect. Now you're...too good to be true."

Tane: He gave a humorless chuckle. "I think if I've proven anything, it's that I'm far from perfect. Wanna talk to Shane? He can tell you how not perfect I am."

Q: "Was that the asshole that wanted everything from you?"

Tane: "No, that was another relationship. Shane was the boyfriend of one of my previous boyfriends. We stayed friends after they broke up."

Q: "So a boyfriend with a boyfriend, and you were okay with that?"

Tane: Tane nodded. "I was."

Q: "Why were you okay with that?"

Tane: "I think it was my parents' divorce. They fell in love, then fell out of love, then fell in love again, and then sort of...got to a place where they forgot the bitterness of their marriage falling apart and started loving each other again. But it was different this time around. It was platonic, and...something else. They had a bond because they had me. And I guess watching that happen I just saw love as something that changed and came in lots of different forms. Like the ocean."

Q: "...Everyone has someone out there that's their perfect match. Why is it you're so determined to think that's me?"

Tane: At long last, a smile. "I don't know. Something clicked the first time I saw you in the boss' office all those months ago."

Q: He couldn't say it wasn't the same for him. Tane was something else altogether and he had the pleasure of his company. Not always, but...

"Do you want me to tell you when I have a client?"

Tane: Tane considered for a moment. Did he want to know?

"If you don't mind." Just in case something happened.

Q: "Fine. I have an appointment on Sunday. If I don't feel well enough by then I'm going to have to make up something so it's just snuggles. It's the boyfriend experience. Sex only happens half the time."

Tane: Tane nodded. "All right." Boyfriend experience. He'd seen that on the app Q advertised his services on during one of the many times he'd found himself looking at it.

"Dare I suggest the eggs benedict again? You really do need to eat."

Q: Q tried to sink deeper into his bed, but it was simply too firm. All his efforts managed to do was accentuate his bruised rump. "You're really not going to let up until I eat, are you?"

Tane: "Nope," he said with a shake of his head. "I'll feed it to you if I have to."

Q: "Just put it on the table here and I'll try, okay?"

Tane: He'd take that. "Okay."

The plate was unwrapped, a fork grabbed, and a glass of water poured.

Q: Oh, water? He'd have to finish his glass of terrible concoction, first. He made a point of moaning with approval just in spite of his...whatever Tane had become.

Tane: Though Tane made a face, there was some measure of humor in it. "I don't know how you drink that stuff."

Q: "It has vitamins. It's not all bad."

Tane: "I had one once and the caffeine and sugar kept me awake for two days."

Q: "Exactly. I'll stay awake until tonight so I can sleep properly. I don't have another shift until Saturday."

Tane: "All the more reason to eat and drink water. Sleep will heal you."

Q: "Babe, this isn't my first rodeo. I've had worse than scratches on my ass and I'm still here and fine."

Tane: "At my age even non-serious things need to be treated with some care." He made jazz hands. "The joys of middle age!"

Q: "That's why I will always cherish older men and women. The wisdom and maturity in action. Can't you tell these were men younger than me?" His ass swayed from side-to-side. "Not that there aren't rough old men out there, but you can usually flee better."

Tane: "Interestingly enough, yes, I can tell they were younger men. No patience, no finesse." No clue how to treat someone as gorgeous as you.

"Since most old men don't look like me, yes you can."

Q: "You're not old. Don't talk like that." Well, he was thirsty. He tried to position himself at the edge of the bed.

Tane: "Older then. I'm an older fellow. No no, don't move. You'll cover your bedspread in Neosporin."

He picked up the glass and offered it.

Q: "Baby, it's just scratches. He had some ugly broken nails. That's all."

Tane: "I can tell. They're nasty scratches."

Q: "Do you want the details now that you know this part of my life, or just the basics, like my Sunday appointment?" The water was taken with a nod of thanks and chugged.

Tane: "Let's stick to basics for now. Keep some mystery between us."

Q: "If that's what you want these scratches to be, fine."

Tane: "These are a byproduct of youthful impatience. After we find our footing, well...we'll play it by ear."

Q: "Impatience, right." So then they would continue this way because it was what Tane needed. Fine. Tane seemed to be getting his way left and right today. He knew about Q's profession and kept it to himself; he couldn't ask or take intimacy at Kitty Hawk, but now was fine. It all seemed like a convoluted mess but this was what they had to deal with.

"Pick something to watch. I can only watch nature documentaries for so long."

Tane: Tane studied Q for a moment. "Does that bother you? That I'm trying to see them that way?" For all the confidence he was attempting to project, he felt like he was wading in a sea of uncertainty. And no matter what he said, he had a sinking feeling it wasn't going to be enough. Whether it was due to timing or something else he wasn't sure, but something told him they were just getting started.

"I'd end up picking another nature documentary." And I'm not entirely certain whether you want me here right now. "You pick."

Q: Q wasn't entirely sure, either. His instinct had told him to shut the door in Tane's face. He had begun to suspect he knew when they arrived at Kitty Hawk. Chalk it up to his talent or a tell Tane exuded, he wasn't certain, but he felt that their relationship would be different had the bouncer never found out.

Right now, no one was hated more than Stacey.

"Fine." A moment of looking and a cartoon show was chosen. The plate on the table was scrutinized.

Tane: Tane waited for an answer to his question but Q didn't seem inclined to give one. Should he push or leave it alone for now?

Perhaps the latter. He really didn't want to have another fight with Q and besides, there was always time for more discussion later. Hopefully when emotions weren't running quite as high.

"It's the meal I'd planned to make you back in Kitty Hawk," he said at Q's scrutiny.

Q: "Were you going for romantic?" he asked, busting one of the yolks and watching it run.

Tane: "Not really. Just friendly. I thought it'd make you smile." Like the mogwai.

Q: "Mm." He wanted to smile, but...

"What was on your mind last week, anyway?"

Tane: "Before the fight or after?"

Q: "During. Why you pushed me away, why you were in a shit mood."

Tane: "It was almost the anniversary of Logan and Kelly's deaths."

Q: "I thought you said that was around our vacation."

Tane: "Did I? Probably worded it wrong." He supposed that was bound to happen when you weren't used to talking so much. "It was around the time of our fight. I kept saying no and pushing you away during our fight because..." He sighed. "There was a lot going on in my head."

Q: "I wanted you because there was a lot going on in my head." That's all he'd say on the matter. He'd finally attempt to eat.

Tane: Tane nodded and looked down at his hands. What a pair they made.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you needed."

Q: "You're not obligated to, babe. I don't think clearly with you."

Tane: A ghost of a smile flitted across Tane's face. "I can say the same about you."

Q: "...This is good, T. Thanks." Though he was picking at it.

Tane: "Yeah? Glad you like it."

Q: "Come here."

Tane: Tane came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Q: "I want to know what you're thinking right now."

Tane: Tane thought for a moment, trying to decide what was most prevalent in his mind. "I'm wondering if you want me to leave and...if we'll ever be able to be at ease around each other again."

Q: "We're on the same wavelength. A part of me does want you to go, but you'll come back." If Logan is anything to go by. "We work together, and we're a mess."

Tane: "Yeah," Tane said with a nod. "I would come back. I don't give up easy." He chuckled dryly. "Guess that's my biggest flaw."

Q: "Depends how Logan looks at it. Stubborn staying gone or stubborn being here. You should listen to the recording."

Tane: His gaze shifted to the phone laying on the coffee table. He still felt weird about listening to it, but was that really any worse than getting a report from Q?

"I'm scared to," he said softly.

Q: "I'm having dinner dates with her." He paused. "Nothing sexual, I promise." Not unless she wanted it, and he highly doubted that. Just a feeling.

Tane: "You'd probably strike out if you brought it up," he said absently, still staring at the phone. "She likes girls."

Q: "Ha. Guess my intuition was on the money."

Tane: "It was." He took a deep breath and got up to retrieve his phone, resuming his seat shortly thereafter. "So you're gonna be spending time with her?"

Q: "I am, yeah." A cigarette was pulled from the pack in his drawer. "You both like beating this cooking thing over my head."

Tane: "I'm sure her cooking is superior to mine. Her dad could make spray cheese taste like something out of a five star restaurant."

Q: His half-finished plate was forgotten for the quiet promise of comfort. Stretching out once more on his bed, he sighed. "Just listen, babe."

Tane: Tane took a deep breath. He really didn't want to do this, but if it helped him either bridge that divide between him and Logan or cut his losses...

He hit 'play'.

Q: It was an honest confession, sincerity from both Quintin Traxler and Logan Riley. There were tears and encouragement and exchanges of said confessions and by the end, benign pleasantries. Rather than hearing secondhand reports, Tane now heard Q's efforts to maintain promises despite an argument.

Tane: The first and most surprising thing Tane noticed was the absence of Dana Tolvin's voice. There was a part of him that thought the man had permanently glued himself to Logan's side, and while part of Tane resented him for it, he was also grateful. After all, Tolvin had been the one to keep Logan safe for half her life.

The second thing Tane noticed was the waver in his goddaughter's voice, the sorrow and desolation in it. Concentrating on their conversation became more and more difficult as that voice tugged at him, and as the reason behind finally revealed itself, as the bitter sobs and her sadness bled out of her, his heart broke.

For a split second he wasn't listening to a recording. It was as if he were back kneeling on a beach over fifteen years ago, cradling a tiny girl and listening to her cry and scream after a bluebottle jellyfish had stung her back.

The pain she'd felt then melded with the pain he was hearing now and it devastated him.

"I'm sorry, I--" Tane had to pause the recording, excusing himself to Q's bathroom.

Q: Q had kept his eyes to himself as Tane listened, looking up only when he was spoken to.

"No rush." He could stay all night not saying a word if he needed. The situation was dire and required finesse.

It also required patience, and in his wait for Tane's return, he rolled over onto his back.

Tane: Q wouldn't be waiting all night, but he would definitely be waiting for quite a while.

Listening to Logan...emotionally bleed out was dredging up things he'd either repressed or tried really hard not to think about, things he'd felt in the days leading up to his fight with Q. Guilt and sadness and anger and regret and self-loathing pooled in his stomach and clawed at his insides with jagged talons, knocking the wind out of him until he could do nothing but grip the sides of the sink and weep.

Q: Giving someone like Tane space was a little too easy during fights. Moments like now, however, itched Q's skin like a hundred peaky ants. The temptation was bedded first with a cigarette, followed swiftly by pot. Maybe Big T would want a hit after collecting himself.

Tane: A few minutes later, Q would be able to hear the sound faucet running and Tane splashing cold water on his face.

It really took some doing to make him cry, and every time he did it left him with a throbbing head, swollen eyes, and a complete drain of energy. The cold water helped, but only to a point. What he really needed was an aspirin and sleep.

And maybe a time machine.

He emerged from the bathroom with a grim expression and red-rimmed eyes, wordlessly pressing 'play' again and listening to the rest of the recording.

Tane: "That I'm all yours?"

Q: "Mhm."

Tane: "A while," he said, lathering Q's back and taking the opportunity to nibble on that lovely delicate shoulder.

Q: "So you've just decided you're not going to date anyone even before telling me?"

Q: The attention made him shiver.

Tane: "Not unless Jude Law comes to town."

Tane: "Or Cary Grant comes back from the dead."

Q: "You're putting all your investment into me?"

Tane: "Does flirting with the cashier at the diner count? That's the furthest I've ventured into the dating arena in ages."

Q: "Is that because of me?"

Tane: "You're a part of it, but this has been happening since before I met you. I haven't really dated in the past few years. I've had dates but nothing's come of them."

Q: "Is that because of everything in Australia, because of Logan?"

Tane: Tane nodded. "All parts. It's just a whole big stew of things."

Q: It began to make sense, and under different circumstances it might have stung. "Mm. Now let me wash your back."

Tane: He dutifully turned. "You are the biggest part, though. After I met you I didn't have eyes for anyone else."

Q: Did he want this discussion again?

"I see."

Soap was lathered and slathered between Tane's shoulder blades.

Tane: Tane gave a content little hum, leaning into Q's hands. It hadn't occurred to him, but from Q's current position he had a perfect view of the little secret Tane had been keeping: a tribal design centered around a hibiscus and a sea turtle tattooed on his lower back.

Q: "This is dangerously close to a tramp stamp," Q pointed out, gently tracing the outline with amusement.

Tane: His brow furrowed in confusion. "What i--" he felt the touch "Ohhhh. Uh. About that..."

Q: "Yes, there is a story behind this and yes I want to know about it."

Tane: He chuckled. "Well, for starters I think it does count as a tramp stamp."

Q: "And why did you get it right here?"

Tane: "There may or may not have been a great deal of alcohol involved in the decision."

Q: "It's so..." feminine.

Tane: "Girly and slightly trashy?"

Q: "Uh, girly?" he chuckled.

Tane: "It's a pink flower above my ass."

Q: "Okay. What logic led to that road?"

Tane: "Logan was always doodling and on that particular evening, he--also falling down drunk--was showing me his doodles and dared me to get one as a tattoo."

Q: "There wasn't a more...Tane kind of doodle in there?"

Tane: "There absolutely was. Drunk me chose the least Tane kind of doodle, but it was pointed out by my siblings that except for the color of the hibiscus and the location, it was a very Tane doodle."

Q: Q studied the tattoo once more. "You know, you could always change the colors a bit to update it. The outer edges need some touch up. I have another I've been meaning to get." Since his phone call with Margot.

Tane: "I've been meaning to for ages but I always forget it's even there."

Tane glanced over his shoulder. "Oh? What are thinking of getting?"

Q: "I don't know yet." He did. He just didn't want to explain it. "Still, schedule an appointment for two sometime, or I will."

Tane: "Deal. We could do it when we go to Hawaii. I got a guy."

Q: "Oh shit, all the way over there? Okay, but I've never gotten a tattoo when I wasn't high."

Tane: "Casey will take care of you. And if he doesn't, I'll just hit him." Tane smiled. "He's one of my brothers."

Q: "One of your brothers?"

Tane: "Yep. From my mom's re-marriage."

Q: "Remind me again. How many do you have?"

Tane: "Six. Three from each."

Q: "All step-siblings."

Tane: "All step-siblings. Three step-sisters and three step-brothers."

Q: "So your brother is going to ink me."

Tane: "If you so choose."

Q: "Mm. If I so choose." He shrugged, stretched. "Alright. No suspicious romanticisms, okay?"

Tane: "What does that even mean?" he chuckled.

Q: "No...telling him I'm your boyfriend or proposing to me in front of family."

Tane: Tane blinked. "I wouldn't do that to you. I want to take you on vacation for the hell of it, not as part of some plan."

Q: "You say that now," he smiled. "What about next year? Or 2020?" Teasing, but still.

Tane: "We're not in next year or 2020." He made quick work of shampooing his hair. "I can only speak for current Tane."

Q: "Alright." He disliked reminding Tane and this was only night one officially. Kitty Hawk didn't count. Kitty Hawk had been a mess, in his mostly drunk remembrance.

Tane: Tane disliked it as well. Mainly because being reminded of just how against romance Q was had caused the warm, comfortable feeling that had gathered in his chest to evaporate, leaving him feeling cold and just a little sad.

"Want me to wash your hair?" he asked once he'd rinsed his.

Q: "You want to wash my hair?" he smiled. "Requires almost no shampoo and a handful of conditioner just sitting in my hair."

Tane: "I do." Tane spotted the conditioner, grabbed it. "Turn around and tilt your head back."

Q: He would do so seductively, turning and placing his fingertips on the wall. "Yes, sir."

Tane: Tane felt certain parts of him heat. "Mm." How was it possible that Q could have such an effect on him by doing the simplest things? It was bordering on ridiculous.

He poured some conditioner into his palm and began massaging it into Q's hair.

Q: Of course he tilted back to accommodate. That was one of his favorite things, and it was sacred, which was why so few ever had the privilege of doing it. A kiss and a fuck were one thing. A scalp massage was worth more than gold.

"Mm. Feels good."

Tane: Even without knowing the significance, Tane was operating with the utmost care and reverence. He'd spent very long hours fighting the urge to reach out and touch one of these curls and now that he was, he planned to take his time.

Tane: "Good."

Q: "Gonna play with my hair all night?"

Tane: "Play with it, bury my face in it, pet it. I have big plans for your hair."

Q: "You don't love me. You love my perfect hair and body."

Tane: Tane smiled to himself. "Cut me some slack, I've been restraining myself for many moons."

Q: "I've never held back. When I want to touch your arm, I do."

Tane: "Harder to randomly bury your face in someone's hair than it is to brush their arm."

Q: "I've always had advantage, then."

Tane: "Not entirely. I did get to pick you up quite a bit before today."

Q: "Teasing me don't count."

Tane: "Since when are piggyback rides teasing?" he laughed.

Q: "All that strength is a tease to my cock."

Tane: "Is it now? Get all tingly watching me lift things?"

Q: "Of course I do. I'm talking to drunks but I'm always keeping an eye out for you."

Tane: "Then you're gonna have a great time this week." He kissed Q's shoulder. "Boss is gonna have me help him organize the store room. Gonna lift allllll those boxes."

Q: Q smiled at the affection. "Mm. I might record you for ... you know, reasons."

Tane: He laughed softly. "Knock yourself out, gorgeous."

Q: "I'll masturbate to it."

Tane: The other shoulder was kiss. "In that case you should come hang out with me during my next workout."

Q: He tilted his head, inviting for more. "Don't. I won't wait until I get home. I'll do it right then and there."

Tane: Tane pulled Q close, nuzzling his neck before whispering, "Why do you think I'm inviting you?"

Q: Given his nearness, there was nothing to hinder Tane from seeing his host's erection.

"Want to know my wet dream of you?"

Tane: There certainly wasn't. And given that, it would've been criminal not to kiss Q's neck and make it worse.

"Tell me."

Q: "Mm. Should be obvious. On the bar where we work. All I dream about when I dream of you is riding your cock so hard you can't breathe."

Tane: The mere thought had Tane groaning. "One day," he purred, kissing that neck some more. "One day."

Q: "Kiss me," he demanded. If nothing else give him that.

Tane: Q's wish was Tane's command. He was spun around, gathered in Tane's arms, and kissed with complete abandon.

Q: Why would he turn Q around when he knew what was on the other side, what would be pressed against his naked skin? He was a damn fool, but Q was doing his best not to take advantage. His hips were kept at bay, hands firm in Tane's hair.

Tane: Ah, but that was precisely why he turned Q around. Now that he'd gotten a taste of the beautiful man in his arms, he wanted more.

Tane's hands took to exploring Q's skin as he slowly devoured him, kneading at his muscles, teasing him. "You know what I'm gonna do?" he asked between kisses.

Q: Q smiled. "Something very wonderful to me, I hope." And he did. Despite their lack of sex, surely they could achieve another mutual orgasm.

Tane: "Mmhmmm." He trailed kissed across Q's jaw and down his neck. "I'm gonna rinse us off and take you back to that bed for round two. How does that sound?"

Q: Not a hum this time, a gasp followed by a feathery groan. His answer was there, as well as the throb in his cock. "You have my permission."

Tane: "Then tilt your head back, gorgeous. I've gotta rinse out the conditioner." And feast on your neck while I do it.

Q: Excellent. He did as he was told and made a show of it, tilting in such a way as to invite Tane's mouth to his chest.

Tane: How could Tane refuse such an invitation? Every inch of Q that was in reach was going to be kissed and nipped and nuzzled.

Q: In that moment, Q was in what some would label as love. Tane was his everything, if just for tonight. Clinging to his hair, he had to wonder if this was what it felt like from the other side.

"Don't leave a bruise," he smirked.

Tane: "I would never," he said, smiling against Q's skin. Nothing but loving kisses to match the flurry of emotion in his chest.

He turned his attention from Q's chest long enough to inspect his hair. "All gone."

Q: "Good." So he could turn off the water and cling. "I believe you said something about taking me back to bed yourself? Bring it on." Because he so much wanted to be carried.

Tane: Tane chuckled. "Yes I did. Just gotta get us dry first."

After patting himself down Tane bundled Q into a towel just like he had in Kitty Hawk and carried him back into the bedroom, nuzzling him the entire way.

Q: "This is the opposite of sexy," he laughed. "I'm a burrito."

Tane: "Only for a bit," he said with a grin. His precious cargo was laid on the bed and immediately attacked with kisses.

Q: The kisses were interrupted by smiles and mischievous laughter, tugging at his damp towel until revealing himself in all his naked glory. Tane wasn't allowed to leave. Not an inch to separate. Legs wrapped around his hips, arms around his shoulders.

Tane: Tane had no intention of doing anything of the sort. He planned to stay right where he was, all but glued to Q and lavishing every single inch of that perfect body with affection.

"Someone's eager," he whispered against Q's lips, slowly reaching between them.

Q: "I want your skin all for myself." Tane was the perfect temperature, heat bordering on too much without becoming sweaty. He wouldn't need a blanket to sleep with this man.

The firm grip of his legs loosened just enough to allow Tane's exploration.

Tane: "You've got it, gorgeous." The kisses moved down to Q's collar bones as Tane began to gently fondle him. "You can have your fill of my skin, my hair..." He nipped one, then the other. "My touch, my kisses..." Tane's mouth moved to Q's sternum. "All you want."

Q: "What I want? Anything I want?" His hand joined Tane's, caressing his fingers before taking both cocks in hand, giving a purposeful and slow squeeze.

"I want your mouth on my nipples."

Tane: "Mmhmmm..." His hum tapered to a soft groan. That little bit of friction was all it took for his body to come fully awake again.

Well, that and the man underneath him.

"Do you now?" Grinning, Tane ducked his head and took a nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling over it. "Like this?"

Q: "Uhn," his approval was given with both noises and a squeeze. "Let me see your tongue." It was more than just feeling it; watching Tane was where the majority of his arousal came from.

Tane: If Q wanted to watch Tane, then Tane was going to give him plenty to look at. Every alternating open-mouthed kiss, swirl, and lap of his tongue would be Q's to enjoy, as would all the strokes and caresses to his cock.

Q: "Fuck," a word like a whine. No. This was too perfect. "I don't wanna cum," he whispered. "Don't let me."

Tane: "Oh, but I want you to." He lifted his head to kiss Q. "Whether it's my hand or my mouth is entirely up to you."

Q: The audacity alone caused him to throb, taking Tane's mouth tongue first. Clearly, clearly he knew the authority he held over the escort's body. Two nights of truth, months of dancing had established it.

"Yes, sir." He had only one choice; Tane had given him only one. His limitations were now a thrill.

"Your mouth. Please, sir."

Tane: Hearing that word fall from Q's lips would never, ever fail to send a lance of heat straight through Tane's body, to arouse him and set his hands and lips to purpose. And every time he heard it, he wanted more.

Q was given a long, long lingering kiss before Tane's mouth travelled down his body, settling on his groin. Despite his determination he was in no rush, kissing and nuzzling Q's lower abdomen as he teased everywhere but where Q wanted him most.

Q: Oh no. How had he not considered that this would be an issue? He could still taste Tane on his lips, but that wasn't enough. Now he was being denied the very thing he had asked for.

He whimpered, pouted.

"You're an asshole," he whispered.

Tane: That pout was too cute not to be kissed. "Patience, beautiful," he chuckled softly.

He was only distracted for a moment, however. Though he was having a splendid time pulling those needy little whimpers from Q, kissing up and down his shaft and sucking gently on his head was far more appealing.

Q: God... God. Why was Tane tormenting him? Was this revenge for every tease? Each time he'd ignored him these past couple of days? Was this for every time he'd disobeyed his order to behave?

Another whimper followed needy hands combing through Tane's hair, urging him to take not just the tip, but everything. Take it all. It's yours.

Tane: It was all of those things and none of them at the same time. While it was nice to be on this side of the teasing fence for the moment, what was really spurring Tane was a need to see Q dissolve into a squirmy, sated mess.

And judging by that gorgeous little whimper they were part way there already.

Taking painstaking care, he took more and more of Q's shaft into his mouth, bobbing his head slowly, stroking over his thighs and abdomen and scrotum as he lovingly devoured.

Q: Sometimes it was worth it to just let go. Dropping his guard meant leaving his filter forgotten. Tane's name was repetitious on Q's tongue. Not only was it sweet, but velvety. He couldn't think of a better way to express his gratitude than with his mantra, slowly rolling his hips, using his mouth selfishly.

Tane: There were no words to describe how Tane was feeling right now. He was with the man he loved, touching him and pleasuring him while his name filled the air with all the reverence of a prayer.

He hummed in approval when Q's hips began to move, relaxing his throat and taking Q even deeper into his mouth to let him feel the vibration. One of his hands reached for Q's, untangling it from his hair and twining their fingers. He needed that connection.

Q: Something about that hold hurt his chest. It was so intimate and loving and he should have known Tane would do something like that. He knew in his heart of hearts that Tane was romantic, that these feelings weren't going to just dissolve. He knew this and yet he let himself believe it was harmless.

So he fucked his mouth, squeezed their fingers together, and came, whispering Tane's name between gulps of air.

Tane: Q didn't know how right he was; Tane's romantic feelings weren't going anywhere. If anything, this little escapade of theirs was only going to make them stronger.

Not that he intended to let Q know that, however.

He'd continue as he'd begun, doing his best to hide the depth of his affection while still showing some to Q. Shouldn't be too hard, right? It had taken them months to get to this point, where Q was saying his name over and over while Tane sucked him off.

He squeezed back, humming again as Q worked himself to completion. Tane swallowed and milked every last drop of his release just as before, pulling off and continuing to kiss and nuzzle his groin even after his body settled.

Q: Q's body didn't want to settle. Everything that he was wanted to possess Tane in a way he never had before; at the very least, to own him in a way he never realized he had all along. He wanted Tane to remain between his legs, wanted as something he could hold like a ring, a chastity cage, a shirt. Blurred by his orgasm, right and wrong were inconsequential.

"You're mine," he whispered. "Mine, you hear me?"

Tane: "Mmhmm..." Tane hummed, nodding as he pressed tiny kisses all over Q's inner thighs. "I'm yours." And I have been for a very long time.

Q: Sooner rather than later his head would clear and he would feel remorse for his behavior. That wasn't this minute.

Gently, he combed Tane's hair from his eyes. "Say it again."

Tane: One more kiss was given to Q's thigh. "I'm all yours, beautiful."

Q: "And you're going to stay here tonight."

Tane: "Mmhmm..." Okay, one more kiss. And maybe a nibble.

Q: Knees raised, exposing more of his body in his retreat from Tane's mouth.

Tane: Tane moved up Q's body, offering his lips.

Q: God...this man couldn't possibly be human. That body commanded respect and yet with a single finger he could push him away. He could do serious harm to a man who could break him in half. How could Tane not be aware of his own strength? Of course he knew.

"Get on your back."

Tane: He stretched out beside Q, giving a pleased little groan as he stretched, letting Q see all that muscle he admired moving about.

Q: Nudity in all its glory for his eyes to feast upon. Perfectly tanned skin that looked as warm as it felt. He kissed over his heart, explored down his stomach.

He climbed aboard.

"Pick me up," he said, folding and resting his arms over Tane's chest.

Tane: Contentment settled over Tane as Q kissed over his skin. He could've happily spent years right here, trading affection and endearments with the man he loved.

"You want me to pick you up?" he chuckled, smiling at Q. "I need better leverage. Scoot up a little bit."

Q: He would do as told, and he would make damn sure it was exquisitely bothersome by deliberately pressing his body into his lover, allowing their genitals to greet and nuzzle.

"Like this, sir?"

Tane: Tane shifted as well, making sure he was lying completely flat and trying his best not to moan too loudly when he rubbed against Q.

That little 'sir' earned Q a nip to his collar bone. "Just like that," he said. He raised his knees and put his hands around Q's waist. "Keep your back straight, okay? Don't want to hurt you."

Q: Oh. He hadn't expected this. Still impressive. "Where do I put my arms?" he laughed.

Tane: "Wherever you want," Tane chuckled. "Just keep that back straight. Ready?"

As soon as he received confirmation, he adjusted his grip and carefully lifted Q.

Q: Wherever... best was probably his wrists. He gripped onto Tane and took a breath, made his body rigid.

"Okay," he exhaled, gasping less than a second later. "Haha! Oh wow!"

Tane: Tane laughed softly at Q's reaction. "Having fun up there?"

Q: "This hurting your arms any?"

Tane: "Nah, they're fine for now. How about you? Back hurting any?"

Q: "A little. You can put me down whenever, though."

Tane: Tane kept Q up for only a few more moments before lowering him just as carefully as he'd lifted him.

Q: Ah, to be comfortable on top of his lover once more. Immediately, Tane's neck was given some much deserved affection.

Tane: Tane moaned softly as he wrapped his arms around Q. He was quickly becoming spoiled to skin to skin contact with this man.

Q: "When are we going to Hawaii?"

Tane: "As soon as the boss gives us some time off."

Q: "We already took the weekend. I don't think he's going to be eager to just let us go again."

Tane: "Maybe not in the next couple weeks but we should be able to wrangle a week or two out of him soon. Maybe sometime in the next month."

Q: "Two weeks, huh? Pretty bold."

Tane: "I think we can swing it. Why do you think I'm helping with inventory?" he chuckled. "Earning some brownie points."

Q: "If we go together, when we go together, is this going to continue?"

Tane: "This as in cuddling naked and giving each other orgasms?"

Q: "Yes." Perfectly serious.

Tane: "If you still want to, absolutely."

Q: "And you don't want me to be with anyone else while we're there?"

Tane: "I want to have you all to myself, yeah."

Q: His face was studied to the count of ten. Q rolled off and to the edge of the bed, pulling from his bedside table a box. In the box was a clear plastic chastity cage.

"Put it on me. Try it out."

Tane: Tane propped himself up on his elbows, frowning when Q pulled the chastity cage out of its box.

"You just spent ages in one of those."

Q: "It was a debt. This is different."

Tane: "Are you sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable." Especially when they were supposed to be on vacation.

Q: "It's not about literally preventing me from having sex. It's meant more as...symbolism."

Tane: Tane considered for a moment. "All right, I'll try it." Just for a bit. He really didn't want to cause Q discomfort.

He eased himself into a sitting position, holding his hand out for the cage.

Q: Q laid back comfortably and offered the cage and key. This was a test for both men. He wanted to know how far their trust of one other stretched. What's more, he wanted to gauge the level in which Tane would enjoy. He had accepted Q's claim just minutes before; now it was his turn.

Tane: His only other experience with one of these things was with his manipulative asshole of an ex-boyfriend. Not only had no care been used when putting it on him, Tane hadn't even agreed to it. But apparently 'I'll think about it' had been taken as a green light.

This time around it was different. Tane was extra gentle and careful as he eased Q into it, making sure no skin was being pinched as he closed it up and squirming a bit the entire time.

Q: Q smiled when he realized what was happening. Not the TLC; he expected that. The squirm. Was that squirming?

"What are you doing?"

Tane: "You know when you put on a turtleneck and it feels like you're slowly being strangled until you take it off?"

Q: "But it's my cock," he giggled.

Tane: Tane chuckled. "Same principle applies."

Q: "How does it feel?"

Tane: "Like it's on me."

Q: "How does it feel to have this kind of control?"

Tane: Tane took another moment to consider. He'd never really had this level of control with anyone before. He was used to filling the more dominant role in most of his relationships but he couldn't remember a time when someone had handed something like this to him. Literally or figuratively.

"I don't know," he said at last. "Foreign."

Q: "Well, I'm foreign." It wasn't a brag, just reality. "You know what this means," he said, touching the key Tane held. "While you have this key, you know for a hundred percent that I'm yours."

Tane: He looked at the little key in his hand, nodding. Strange that such small things could hold such meaning.

"And you want me to put this on you when we're in Hawaii?"

Q: "If you take it off me, it'll either be for us, or I'll take the hint."

Tane: "I might end up taking it off because it makes me antsy."

Q: "I love that about you."

Tane: "My antsiness?" he asked, smiling.

Q: "Something that's happening to me is something you experience for yourself."

Tane: His smile softened. Q deserved a kiss for that.

Q: Oh, he'd take that. Arms around Tane's neck, he was brought on top with the intention to squish. "I feel safe. It's okay, Big T."

Tane: He nodded and kissed that pretty mouth again. "Okay," he said softly, settling carefully over Q so he wouldn't crush him. Q's comfort was what mattered, and if he felt safe and comfortable then Tane was happy.

Q: "So, are we going to lay here staring into each other's eyes the rest of the night, or do you want me to put on a movie, and we just cuddle naked?"

Tane: "Hmm....movie and cuddle naked." It would give him ample opportunity to squeeze in more kisses.

Q: Either were acceptable; he wasn't leaving the bed. The controller was given to Tane, TV turned on.

So, this would be their night together? It was simple and yet fitting. He couldn't decide whether or not their relationship counted as grossly complicated or oversimplified. It couldn't be both, he mused.

Tane: The controller was taken with a kiss. "What are you in the mood for?" he asked, shifting a bit so they'd be more comfortable. "Comedy? Action? Horror?"

Q: "You know what I like," he yawned. Creature features. "You pick something you like, babe."

Tane: "Let's see..." What was something they could half watch while probably making out?

"Pulp Fiction, perfect."

Q: "Ever seen The Beach with Leonardo DiCaprio?"

Tane: He thought for a moment. "I don't think so?"

Q: "It's such a you movie."

Tane: "We'll have to watch it sometime when I'm less distracted."

Q: "Is it my cock or my mouth or my ass distracting you?" he smirked.

Tane: "All of the above. But mostly this right here..." Q's neck was nuzzled and kissed.

Q: "Mm," he smiled. You're not the first to compliment it, he thought. Coming from Tane was a boost to his ego just the same. "If you can help it, don't leave a mark, baby."

Tane: "No marks, beautiful. Promise." Just lots and lots of kisses and the occasional comment about the movie.

Q: Inch by inch Q was turning himself onto his back once more, wanting to dedicate much of their movie time to liplock. He knew the risk; he knew too much time dedicated to making Tane moan would leave him uncomfortable in his cage.

He was hoping for it, just a little, to show him.

Tane: The moaning was more like soft, content hums. As Q turned Tane adjusted, giving the precious man in his arms enough room to move while also keeping him close to his chest, where Tane firmly believed he belonged.

Just as those lips belonged on his.

"Still feeling okay?" he whispered.

Q: "Mhm," he nodded. "I'm alright." Tane's hand was brought between his legs to feel for himself.

Tane: Tane gave a nod of his own, cradling Q despite the obstacle. "All right." He kissed Q again.

Q: "Comfy?"

Tane: "Mmhmm. You? Cold?"

Q: "No. You're a good space heater," he smiled.

Tane: Tane chuckled. "I try my best. You'll never need a blanket with me around."

Q: "Do you want one? We can go to sleep like this."

Tane: "Nah, I'm good. You're all the warmth I need."

Q: "Fucking romantic bitch."

Tane: He laughed.

Q: Q would fall asleep with him. He wouldn't make it to Samuel L. Jackson's speech in the diner. He would be holding Tane's arm, hugging to it like a pillow.

[davidmann95]

Isn't it rather pointless and naive to have Superman continue to extend the olive branch to Luthor even when he and the audience know nothing will come of it and Luthor will always be a villain?

Yeah, that’s a fair question. You’d think after the 8th or 9th death ray or earthquake machine, he’d start thinking that while Lex isn’t a lost cause - Superman doesn’t tend to believe in those - he’s not particularly likely to turn over a new leaf either, and that actively hoping he wakes up and sees the light one day is just torturing himself.

Beyond that emotional investment though, what does it cost him? It’d be one thing if he was letting Lex go out of faith that this time he’ll surely clean up his act, but Superman’s still going after him and fighting everything he throws his way. He just thinks their war is stupid and pointless, and that there’s better things they could be doing with their lives. And that there is, in fact, a possibility that Lex could one day see it that way himself.

Not that this applies to every version of the character. Expecting the Golden Age Lex to reform would be like expecting Wile E. Coyote to stop chasing Road Runner. And the Byrne-era Lex - who literally considered himself a god and openly regarded humanity as barely-sentient insects fit only for grovelling at his feet as pitifully as they could manage, hating Superman purely because he found the idea of someone trying to stop him from tormenting, humiliating and murdering whoever he wanted whenever he wanted to be an almost inconceivably disgusting moral offense - was probably never going to see the light one day and turn his mighty intellect to helping mankind (especially since at the time his thing was primarily being business-smart rather than science-smart). But I hardly think it’s a coincidence that those are by far the least interesting takes on him: at his best, yes, Lex is a monster by any measure, but he’s also complicated. There is something there to dig out of him beyond the animal impulse to conquer and annihilate.

The thing with Lex - and yes, I realize it’s been repeated ad nauseum and boiled down to a misleading one-line summation of his character, same as it’s impossible to suppress an eye-roll at this point when someone calls Joker an “agent of chaos” however accurate it may be - is that he really does think he’s the hero, however much he’s deluding himself. Back in the Silver Age, for all the gags that he just hated Superboy for turning him bald, it’s clear reading that original story that he was a profoundly lonely kid desperate for friendship and respect, and that when it seemed his hero and only friend betrayed him out of jealousy at the moment of his greatest triumph, it shattered him beyond recognition into the man he becomes; hence the Bronze Age Luthor of Maggin and Bates who hated Superman but had nothing against mankind in general and was entirely capable of love even though he was ultimately ruled by his hate, or the Birthright Lex whose every act of spite was nakedly driven by a crushing sense of rejection. Or the modern Lex who convinces himself he’s humanity’s champion against an ubermensch whose very existence undoes our meaning as a species, even if he could care less for mankind and clearly is more concerned with his own value or lack thereof as the Greatest Man Of All Time.

That he’s capable of being salvaged is obviously a tougher proposition with the contemporary take; if nothing else, the one man above all others Superman thinks of as redeemable being a billionaire white guy is increasingly sketchy, especially when you factor in that the “people will wither and die with outside help, they need to learn to strive for greater things themselves” argument is something we hear these days less in relation to Superman, and more in relation to why poor people don’t deserve insurance. But it comes down to two things in particular that I think it makes sense Superman sees something in him:

1. Much as Lex is lying to himself about why he does what he does, he at least feels some kind of genuine need to justify himself. He doesn’t just go around destroying the world in his power armor the way 90% of the other villains Superman deals with do, or consider the concept of acting on principle towards a greater good to be a delusion for the little people; he’s constructed an incredibly elaborate, almost internally consistent set of self-justifications for why he’s still a good man in spite of all he’s done, and he believes he’ll actively work to improve the lives of others once Superman’s not ‘in the way’. The takeaway being that on some level, he wants to be a good man, if not as much as he wants to satisfy his own ego.

2. He wants to be loved. That’s often wrapped up with a desire to be outright worshiped, but as much as he may look down on his fellow man, he desperately craves acceptance and validation. It’s the great unspoken commonality of almost every major take on the character, whether he lashes out at Superman for seemingly betraying him, or for soaking up the love he wants for himself. Add the important note that most versions of him have at least one person he openly feels some kind of affection towards - typically either Lois or a version of Lena, or Clark himself once upon a time in some takes - suggesting that this sentiment at least somewhat extends beyond assuaging his own ego, and the concept that he could come to care about or at least acknowledge others doesn’t seem entirely like a pipe dream, however unlikely it may still be.

Arguments stemming from Lex’s personality aside though, Superman has other reasons for wanting to help him in particular. There’s of course the old idea that Lex could save the world in a way Superman never could, and there’s definitely truth to that; Lex IS smarter, and while Superman’s typically busy making sure the Galactic Golem doesn’t step on Metropolis, Lex has all the time in the world to cure cancer and take us to the stars, and serve as an example of practical and moral achievement to humanity, who doesn’t require superpowers to boot. Often - and I know I prefer it this way - Superman feels however irrationally responsible for Lex one way or another, whether because of his old friendship with Lex as Clark or Superboy going sour, or simply because his presence is what elevated Luthor to such heights of rage and desperation.

But most of all? I think Superman feels really, truly, completely uncondescendingly sorry for him. That Lex Luthor has spent his life so powerfully longing for something genuinely within his grasp - to change the world, and be respected for it - but wastes his life in pursuit of a selfish war he can never win, because he hates Superman so overpoweringly and because killing him would assure his own ascendance? That unlike so many of the people he fights - monsters who see human life as simple food, tyrants literally without the capacity to feel, authoritarians who make no bones about seeking conquest for its own sake - he wants love more than anything in the world, but lacks the self-awareness to realize it, or the empathy to feel it for or meaningfully from others? I think that would break Superman’s heart. I think that as much as he might be frustrated or enraged with Lex at a given moment, in the end every Kryptonite deathtrap and warped Bizarro clone and bid for the presidency and city-wrecking temper tantrum just makes Superman mourn for the person he could be all the more deeply. And because he sees that in him, and feels responsible for him, and knows Lex is one of the few people in the world who could talk with him on anything like the same level if they could just get along, and maybe above all else because he knows what it is to not quite be like anyone else but want to have a place among them, he can’t help but hope for Lex and try to draw that better person out of him. Because whether it’s naive to extend the olive branch or not, Superman lives forever in hope.