#granted this time the compromise was his emotions

[grimvestige]

Hanzou changed up his disguise recently! He's going under the alias of 'Taigen' now :3

[killerpancakeburger]

Well-placed Trust

As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.

Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, Praise, Ghost is a menace (positive), boobs worship, 1k words.

Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.

This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.

Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.

You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you. 

You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.

“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”

Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you. 

So you insists.

“Ghost?”

“Mmh.”

The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.

“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.

You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.

“‘M not mad.“

The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.

“You're not? You have a right to b—”

“I trust you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”

The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.

You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness. 

“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”

“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”

Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.

He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.

He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.

Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.

“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”

In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.

“Fuck. Yes.”

The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.

He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.

With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.

It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.

“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”

Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.

“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”

“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”

“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”

Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.

“I never said that.”

Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.

“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”

You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…

Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”

Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.

“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”

“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.

[re-lmayer]

i can't afford rent because of my abusive ex and desperately need help. if i don't pay, it will cause a domino effect where i'll be homeless, lose my emotional support animals, and eventually i can be sued and my paypal account seized. i'll also fail this college semester, which will mess up all my student grant funding and getting a degree

i'm disabled and was recently hospitalized for a nervous breakdown, and stress is making me sick. i've been diagnosed with an ulcer

there's a lot of ways to help me and my cats. you can commission me on kofi, donate directly via paypal, check out my crowdfunds on youpay, share my twitter and bluesky threads, and of course reblog this post. sharing is free!

more context under the cut. it will be updated as things change

my ex boyfriend is an abusive alcoholic. he's raped me, tried to medically neglect me, stranded me at our new apartment alone with no food and a clogged toilet, and most recently refuses to pay any rent and is content to allow me to become homeless despite legal obligation

i have been granted a hud/section 8 housing voucher, but to use it a unit must pass inspection

the apartment i applied for didn't pass, and needed repairs. the landlord told me he'd accept the first applicant that could pay first month rent and a huge deposit. the housing authority told me i'd lose my voucher if i didn't proceed with this exact unit

originally, i was supposed to be on my own. but i was shoved between a rock and a hard place with the voucher and deposit. i couldn't afford the deposit despite friends crowdfunding for me, so... i asked my boyfriend for help

he needed a place to go himself, because he broke his lease bringing me and my cats in. (i was unaware of this, and had no suspicion he'd do something that would compromise his 2 bed/bath apartment)

my doctor also prescribed caregiver after my hospitalization so it seemed mutually beneficial from a financial standpoint, even if i wasn't enthused about it

we couldn't afford movers, so over the course of march we'd been moving things by the carload ourselves. the queen bed was too big, so the night before last he informed me he was dumping it while he had help from a friend to move it. i had a bedframe and mattress from the last place i'd lived, but it had already been taken to the new place. i thought we'd agreed i'd basically move in to the new place early so i'd have somewhere to sleep

come saturday night, i messaged him that the toilet was clogged. he refused to bring a snake, and told me i was using him because i don't hug and kiss him enough. (i'm a csem victim, asexual, and autistic and don't like physical affection)

he's decided he doesn't want to proceed with the unit, and it hasn't passed the inspection, so my voucher doesn't cover it yet. i can't afford the rent out of pocket, and i'm broke because i'm disabled. we agreed he'd pay rent until the voucher kicked in, then he would be added to it as my caregiver, because he'd take me to medical appointments, ensure i get my medication on time, ensure i'd and bathe, etc.

but that ship has sailed. now i'm left in a lurch, and desperately need help. a large portion of the security and pet deposits were nonrefundable, so all the previous effort would go to waste if i can't stay

because i was recently hospitalized, i don't know how i'll survive homelessness. my cats are prescribed emotional support animals, and losing them would be devastating

these are text messages from when he refused to bring the snake and dumped me:

after this, he proceeded to continuously ignore me when i'd bring up rent, that he's on the lease, and going to the bank to pay the landlord

he never responded to the above and then proceeded to act like nothing happened

he didn't respond to any of these except agreement to let me get my cats with the help of someone from my weekly ywca meetings

he is now proceeding to STILL not respond or accept responsibility despite me explaining to him in great detail what the repercussions will be if he doesn't help pay rent. he continues to say "you"

as of august 29, i don't have enough to pay the rent on my own, but i am keeping all of these text messages to present in eviction court if it comes to that. i also intend to take my ex to small claims court

the landlord's maintenance guy also """plunged the toilet""" after leaving me without a working one for five days, and after i was informed there was a problem with the entire complex's pipes. i was not here, so i can't vet if it was true. they """plunged""" without permission, and then sent me an invoice after the fact. i also can't afford this fee, and find it predatory in nature. the maintenance company is owned by the landlord

i have reached out to legal aid to ask about the legality of the landlord handling the situation like this. i will reach out to them again if i get an eviction notice

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Subtle-tea (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary/Prompt: “You’re only semi-lucid and are sort of reaching for my face, and for various reasons I shouldn’t kiss YOUR face but your hand is right here and I still need to convey affection.”  AKA. You and Benedict drink too much of Colin’s special tea and it spurs you to act upon previously hidden feelings. 

AN: Benedict is the bee’s knees, just a silly lil art guy. I got inspired and I’ve got two more Benedict fics coming out rip. But it’s just so difficult to write for Bridgerton cus you can’t write any gay stuff without it being tragic and/or a secret. Oh well, don’t expect me to write much more female reader content of my own volition/not inspired by my friends.

Content warnings: Reader uses she/her, use of Y/N and L/N, is referred to as “wife” 

Masterlist // AO3 

You had no idea what on Earth was in that tea. But you would have to ask later, because currently you felt as light as a feather and giddy as a giggle, laying on the sofa in the art studio as Benedict was launching himself between two walls, orating about his great desires to create. By far, you were experiencing the greatest emotions on the whim of your artistic associate.

“There’s just so many colours that we are privy to, and we take every single shade for granted!” He declared, his arms wide open to the heavens.

You pointed at him in an accusing manner, “Have you seen purple recently? It’s glorious! No wonder it was the colour of status in the Roman Empire, I too would want it all for myself and my friends.”

“How selfish you are, Miss L/N,” Benedict scolded, “Surely everyone should be given the chance to wear such a colour.”

His anger faded fast. As endearing as it was, it was nothing compared to that grin of his. So naturally you decided to make him smile even more with a ridiculous notion that just jumped into your woozy mind. 

“Do you know what would happen if my mother knew where I was?” You said in a loud whisper. 

Benedict pouted and nodded, riddled with pantomime guilt as he leant over, “You. Me. In a room. Alone.”

“Unchaperoned,” You said then gasped, your hands clapping against your cheeks in shock, “I would be ruined!”

Benedict mimicked your appal by dropping to his knees before you, “We would have to marry to save your reputation!”

“Imagine me, your wife!” You threw your head back as you flashed your bare left hand to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, an inhibition screamed at you to stop lingering so openly on something your sober self was set on not happening

But your heart grew gleeful as Benedict grasped your hand gently. 

“I shall imagine it!” He declared and lowered his lips, and planted a loud kiss upon your knuckle - right where the engagement and wedding bands would sit. You lowered your chin just in time to see this with your own eyes before Benedict met your gaze again, still beaming with roguish delight, “Oh what a beautiful imagining it is.”

Your legs curled up beneath you on the couch, and you fell over in hysterical giggling. You clasped your hand to your chest and cradled it like a newborn. As you lay sprawled out, Benedict popped into your field of view with his hands either side of your head, tactfully avoiding your hair. 

“Your laugh is like music! As your husband, it would be my purpose to make you sing at least once a day.”

“Then kiss me again, you silly man!” You squealed, offering your hand once more. 

Balancing on one arm, and completely unaware that this compromising position was aiding in your dizzy frenzy, Benedict kissed the same spot then turned the palm against his cheek. He held it there as he said:

“Look, it’s like you were sculpted to hold me.”

Euphoria ran riot across your body, your heart beating so fast you thought you would die from delight. 

“And you were carved to be held by me.” From your vantage point, with newly founded confidence, you tried to pull his lips down to yours, but Benedict resisted. 

“We shall not kiss ‘til we are married.”

Eyes wide, you squeezed the back of his neck to keep him close, “Is this a proposal?”

“I do not think we are in the right state of mind to make rational decisions,” and Benedict bumped his nose to yours, causing a little laughter before continuing: “But marrying you is the sanest idea I’ve had all evening.”

[chihoshisai]

Sweet Overtime

Nanami x Reader

cw : established relationship, kissing, nanami is madly in love, fluff fluff fluff and feelings // wc : 1.4K

Nanami hated overtime. 

Regardless of whether he worked for his unfulfilling past office job or as a current sorcerer, heaven would have more chance to fall down before he would clock out one minute later. It was an iron tight rule he had set for himself, to have control over his life after having his youth robbed by the constant going of society. But rules were meant to be broken, bent and sometimes ignored, as they served no purpose but to regulate and guide. All things considered, exceptions were a part of life and even Nanami had no control over it. 

You were an anomaly that came walking into his life, slowly and tenaciously clawing its way into his heart. At first, he disliked you like he did towards some other sorcerers — someone crazy enough to willingly do and enjoy the dangerous living of being a sorcerer. Someone who must’ve been completely out of their mind to fall for a fellow coworker and shamelessly pursue them at that too. But your consistency was enough for an opening to form in his heart, like a flower, it started as a sprout before blooming and leading to the complete surrender of Nanami’s feelings towards everything that partook in your existence. 

Despite his reserved attitude, he quickly acclimated himself to his role as your beloved — going on dates, the late night conversations, the emotional and physical intimacy which he insisted what mattered the most was what you liked, what you enjoyed while he promptly followed through. The hardest part was the vulnerability he had to learn to share with another, as you guided him through the thorny path of allowing himself to rely and lean on a fellow jujutsu sorcerer — who could lose their life at any moment. 

Despite all that, Nanami made it a point to separate all sentimentality while both of you worked — no sweet words, no stolen intimate moments. He treated you professionally.

And it slightly annoyed you, as you persistently tried to create opportunities that would make him fold only to fail miserably. Whispering honeyed remarks when no one was around, purposefully brushing your body against his claiming it was an accident and out of desperation, blowing a kiss in his direction. Though to be fair the last one did cause his face to flush. But his crimson self was the only act of fondness towards you that Nanami allowed himself to show. Even when his skin burned with desire for you, he knew better than to act on his incessant yearning. 

“Such behavior has no place here,” he would scold with his usual flat voice. But his eyes would soften at the look of your pouty lips as he whispered in a gentler tone, “we'll have plenty of time once we’re home.” 

The spoken words alongside the love filled expression of Nanami were enough for you to be willing to compromise, whilst a surge of motivation coursed through your body in order to finish your tasks of the day. After all, there was no mistaking that his affection knew no bounds once the veil of privacy was casted between the two of you, unraveling the mutual pining that he skillfully hid during the day. 

***

Today was just like the others — dull, boring but fulfilling enough as he had gotten the chance to exorcize another curse. With the clock that silently showed the passing of time, teasingly hinting towards the end of the day, Nanami’s longing for you had grown impatient due to your absence as he finished putting in order his report for the day. Earlier this morning you had left for a mission, depriving him of the usual sweet teasing he had taken for granted. 

While images of yourself danced in his mind, he was reminded of the way your lips curved to form a smile, how your eyes brimmed with delight anytime something catched your attention and most importantly the unparalleled warmth he felt everytime you uttered his name. His feelings overflowed like a waterfall and he just wanted to be done with this day so damn much.    

He just wanted to see you.

Dutifully focused on his task, Nanami didn’t notice the door you slowly opened as you poked your head through the entrance, just enough to see inside. 

“Kento,” your light voice floated to his ears and he perked his head up. The tender smile that emerged from his lip, sincere while also revealing the depth of his emotions at your sight, was enough to send a slight flush across your face. And following with a grin, you slid your body through the door and walked towards his desk, keeping eye contact with him, taking notice of the churning sensation that blossomed down in your stomach. 

“Aren’t you done yet?” You asked, well aware of the current time while sitting down in one of the chairs opposite his desk, eyes darting from his overwhelming paperwork to his sunglasses.

“Almost love,” he responded in a tender tone.

“Then I’ll wait,” you said on a hum, when in reality the need to tease him danced in your mind but you digressed in respect for his boundaries. Instead, you went to stroll around the room, letting your eyes trail alongside the endless bookshelves.   

Stealing glances at your pacing self in his office, Nanami promised himself not to get distracted by your taunts, even when his heart raced alongside the daydreams that previously filled his mind like soft rays of sunrise. But as none came, Nanami felt slightly disappointed at the lack of attention and before he knew it, the clock turned to five and he promptly put aside everything work related and his mind went on to focus on your nearby existence. 

Seeing as you still stood eyeing the bookshelves, Nanami discreetly went to wrap his arm around your waist from behind, gently holding and pulling you towards him as he did so and owning himself a slight gasp from your lips.

“That surprised me,” you said in a chuckle, as your skin prinkled at the touch of his fingers sliding around your waist. “Should we head home if you’re done?” You inquired, aware that Nanami disliked spending unnecessary time working as a sorcerer. 

“In a bit,” he whispered in your ear, “let me stay like this for a bit longer love,” he breathed down your neck, lips brushing your skin and draping you with his warmth. He had missed you. So much that he was willing to compromise on his unbreakable rule, enjoying this sweet moment he decided to bestow upon himself. A day apart was all it took for Nanami to abandon his principles, while he used his arms to make you face him, and bathe in your blushing face — his whole world. 

With a racing heart, you let your eyes lurk over his lips in an obvious manner, as your hands moved upward to grip his broad shoulders. His breath mingling with yours increased your desire to close the distance, but you felt unsure whether Nanami would be alright to cross such a line at work. For that reason, you pondered on the thought of speaking your worries aloud or letting the tension speak for itself. 

But your thoughts alongside your moment got quickly interrupted by the abrupt opening of the door and alongside it, the unsuspecting sight of Gojo. Who with a sly smile let his voice boom throughout the room. “Please don’t mind me and do continue,” Gojo chuckled, well aware that he was clearly interrupting. You eyed him, internally cursing the white haired man for his timing and how he made no attempt whatsoever of returning the privacy he had stolen.

Nanami however had kept his gaze on you all this time despite the disruption — he knew better than to indulge Gojo by giving him any form of attention. Instead, as he saw how your eyes had been robbed from his sight, Nanami grabbed your chin to redirect your focus on him. And while looking at your momentarily surprised face, he united his lips against yours, offering a kiss that hinted at his day long yearning and desire for you. It was only when the sound of the closing door which indicated Gojo’s departure that Nanami allowed his hand to reign free atop your body — one seizing your waist and the other ruffling your hair. His heart throbbed at the intimacy your presence offered and with much regret, he parted from the kiss, forbidding himself to go further for the sake of unraveling the deepest parts of your body only in the shared sanctuary that consisted of your place. 

“Let’s go home,” Nanami whispered, cupping your cheeks and smiling at the face that intoxicated every fiber of his body. 

You hummed in approval and felt Nanami slide his hand to weave his fingers alongside yours while he went and guided the way out and to more intimate moments. 

[imaginaryf1shots]

Unreplacable | Fernando Alonso

WC: 3.9K

Fernando x exGF!reader

Summery: "I love you." "You'll move on."

Warning: drinking? idk

A part of my 1K Celebrations

Masterlist

Fernando Masterlist

The rain tapped harshly against the windows, the weather matching the atmosphere in the dimly lit living room. The room that held so many memories in it, a part of  your home. Or the place that was once your home, after today it’ll be longer your home, evident by the suitcases by the front door. You stood by the window your back to Fernando as you struggled to keep your tears in, you had to keep your composure. The decision you took seems heavier than ever now.

This decision was a long time coming, your relationship with Fernando has been suffering for a while now. Your once bubbly and happy relationship has been filled with nothing but fights and lonely nights lately, and it’s something you can’t take any more. You and Fernando talked about it many times before, and no matter what he said or what you said the both of you wouldn’t change. You both didn’t want to compromise and it was killing your relationship faster than you both could comprehend.

Fernando, whose face is a mix of frustration and heartbreak, paced the room with a restless energy. He came from a race weekend to see your bags ready to go, his house void of all the touches you added over the years, everything that is yours is gone, just like you’re about to be. His footsteps were the only sound besides the rain breaking the silence. Before he finally stopped and turned to face you. Your back is still to him.

“So this is final?” Fernando asks you, you sigh and turn to look at him, he’s standing on the other side of the room, his eyes searching for some sign of the love that had once filled this space, that had once filled you both.

“Yes, it’s for the best.” You say and avert your eyes, telling yourself; yes this is the best choice you both have. If you wait any longer and kind of respect or love you hold for each other will disintegrate and grow as hatred and resentment.

“I love you.” He said, his voice trembling slightly. The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy, like the rain outside. You took a deep breath trying to keep your composure, to keep your voice steady despite the turmoil inside, placing your hand on the window behind you trying to anchor yourself, seeking stability to face the emotional storm that’s in front of you.

“You’ll move on. We both will, love isn’t enough anymore.” You replied, the finality of your words echoing through the room.

Fernando’s gaze fell to the floor, his shoulders sagging with the weight of your decision. He knew deep down that this was the end, and that it’s the right choice but it didn't make it any less hard. The love that had once seemed so unbreakable now felt like a distant memory, slipping through his fingers like the rainwater tracing paths down the window.

In that moment the reality of the separation hits you both, leaving behind an empty, aching silence. The warmth of the past was gone, and the future seemed uncertain and bleak.

5 months later

You never thought you’d get into a relationship with another driver, granted he’s retired now, but an F1 driver nonetheless. He was just at the right place and at the right time with the right information. Jensen asked you out at a moment where you just wanted to move on, and you thought to yourself why the heck not. 

And you’re so glad that you did.

You haven’t felt like this in so long, you’re very giddy. The relationship with Jensen felt like a breath of fresh air. After the painful breakup with Fernando, you were drowning in memories, suffocated by the weight of what you lost. Jensen was like a lifeline, someone who offered you a chance to escape the relentless ache that had taken root in your heart.

His smile was a welcome distraction, his attention a balm to your bruised emotions. There was a certain lightness in your interactions, a simplicity that felt like a relief after the intensity of what you had shared with Fernando. With him, there were no complicated histories or lingering doubts, just the easy banter and the comfort of being wanted.

You threw herself into the relationship, hoping that if you just kept moving forward, you wouldn’t have to look back. There was a spark of excitement, the rush of new beginnings, and for a while, it was enough. You convinced yourself that this could work, that this new connection could heal your heartache.

Was there a bit of doubt that crept in in the darkness of your bedroom when you’re alone? Yes. And you couldn’t shake it no matter what. It was like a small voice inside of you kept saying that this wasn’t real, that you were simply running from the pain rather than truly healing from it. You haven’t given yourself time for yourself and for you to not love Fernando anymore. But you ignored it all, burying the unease beneath layers of forced smiles and laughter.

You wanted to believe that this new relationship could fill the void Fernando had left behind. But deep down, even in the beginning, you knew you were fooling yourself. Jensen was kind, attentive, and everything you should want in a partner, but your heart was still tied to someone else. And no matter how much you tried to pretend otherwise, the shadow of Fernando lingered, a constant reminder of what you had lost and what you were trying so hard to forget.

The sun broke through the clouds as if determined to erase the gloom of the previous days. You sat across from him, Jensen who had effortlessly swept into your life. His smile was charming, his laughter infectious, and for a while, he was everything you needed to forget.

The restaurant was bright and bustling. Plates of food were served, drinks were poured, and the noise of the surrounding conversations created a comfortable distance from the heavy silence that had settled in your heart. Jensen reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, his voice warm and inviting. You forced a smile, pulling your hand back to lift your glass of wine. 

“Just enjoying the moment,” You lied, taking a sip to avoid his searching gaze.

He didn’t press further, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh. “This place is great. I’m glad we came here.”

You nodded, your eyes drifting to the window. Outside, people passed by, oblivious to the turmoil within you. The world was moving on, and you were supposed to as well. But every time you tried to lose yourself in this new relationship, Fernando’s shadow loomed large, casting doubt over every smile, every touch.

A few days later, you and Jensen strolled through a serene park, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the path. The sound of children playing and birds chirping filled the air, but it all felt distant to you.

“Isn’t this nice?” He asked, squeezing your hand as you walked side by side. “It’s been a while since I’ve had time to just relax like this.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “It is nice.” You agreed, though your mind was elsewhere. The last time you had visited a park, it had been with Fernando. You remembered how he had laughed when a dog had run up to him, trying to steal the sandwich from his hand. You had both ended up sitting on the grass, sharing what was left of your lunch, and talking about everything and nothing.

“Hey, are you listening?” Jensen’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something.” You replied, feeling a pang of guilt.

“You’re always so deep in thought.” He chuckled softly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing important.” You lied again, forcing yourself to focus on him. He was here, now, and he deserved your attention. He led you to a bench under a large oak tree, where you both sat down. The air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and the gentle breeze ruffled your hair. He turned to you, his expression softening. 

“I really like spending time with you, you know.” Jensen said, his voice sincere. “I feel happy and light whenever we’re together.”

“I like spending time with you too.” You wanted to respond with something equally heartfelt, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you nodded, offering another smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.  But as you said it, the words felt hollow, like an echo in an empty room. You looked away, your eyes catching on a couple nearby, sitting close together, lost in their own world. You envied them, envied the ease with which they seemed to connect. It was the same ease you had once shared with Fernando.

That evening, the two of you found yourselves at a trendy rooftop bar, the city skyline glittering in the distance. The atmosphere was lively, with groups of friends laughing and couples huddled together, sharing intimate conversations. Jensen seemed to thrive in this environment, effortlessly engaging with the bartender and the other patrons around you.

“You’ve got to try this cocktail.” He said, handing you a glass filled with a vibrant pink liquid. “It’s their signature drink here.”

You took the glass, your fingers brushing against his as you did. He was trying so hard to make this work, to make you happy, and you couldn’t fault him for that. But as you took a sip, the sweetness of the drink felt cloying, a poor substitute for the bitter truth you were beginning to accept.

“You like it?” He asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.

“It’s good.” You replied, though the flavour barely registered. Your thoughts were miles away, replaying the last time you and Fernando had gone out for drinks. You remembered how he had teased you for ordering the same thing every time, his playful smirk making you blush.

“Are you okay?” Jensen’s voice brought you back once more, concern etched in his features.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just... a lot on my mind.” You set the glass down on the bar, taking a deep breath. 

He nodded, but the light in his eyes dimmed slightly, as if he knew there was something you weren’t telling him. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

You appreciated his offer, and you felt guilty for not giving him the same attention he’s giving you, but the words felt like a foreign language in your mouth. “I know. Thank you.”

As the night wore on, the conversation became more stilted, the laughter forced. You both tried to keep the evening light, but your unresolved emotions were impossible to ignore. By the time you left the bar, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

The following week, you attended a charity gala together, one of those events that required formal attire and polite conversation. You wore a dress that you’d bought specifically for the occasion, hoping it would make you feel different, more like the person you were trying to become.

Jensen was at your side, looking sharp in his suit, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back as you mingled with the other guests. He introduced you to colleagues and sponsors, making sure you were never left out of the conversation. He was attentive, charming, everything a date should be.

But as the evening progressed, you found it harder and harder to keep up the pretence. The small talk felt draining, the laughter around you too loud, too hollow. You excused yourself at one point, retreating to the restroom for a moment of solitude.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to recognize the person staring back at you. The makeup, the dress, the carefully crafted smile, it was all just a mask, hiding the turmoil beneath. You took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in your chest, and wondered how long you could keep pretending.

When you returned to the gala, Jensen was waiting for you near the dance floor. He smiled when he saw you, holding out his hand. “Dance with me?”

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. He led you onto the dance floor, where other couples were swaying to the slow, romantic music. He pulled you close, his arm around your waist, and you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you tried to lose yourself in the moment.

But as you moved together, the music a soft hum in your ears, all you could think about was how different this felt. With Fernando, dancing had always been spontaneous, filled with laughter and playful teasing. It had been about more than just the steps, it had been about the connection, the unspoken understanding between you.

The song ended, and you pulled back, offering him a small smile. 

“I need some air.” You said softly, stepping away before he could respond.

You made your way outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. The city stretched out before you, the lights twinkling like distant stars. You leaned against the railing, taking in the view, but your mind was elsewhere.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you glanced down to see a message from Jensen. 

‘Where’d you go? Miss you already.’

 The words, once endearing, now felt like a weight pulling you down. You sighed, slipping your phone back into your clutch without responding.

It wasn’t fair to him, you realised. He deserves someone who could give him their whole heart, not just the pieces left behind. But you weren’t ready to confront that truth yet, so you plastered on a smile and returned to the party, determined to keep up the facade for a little while longer.

Fernando is pulled by his friends to the club, they insisted he had to go out and forget about you. And there has been rumours that you're already dating, some saying you're with Jenson. He tried to not think about it and he hoped it was all false. Walking into the VIP section, he's pulled to the bar straight away, they all order their drinks. Fernando didn't really want to get drunk, so when his drink came he just sipped on it. Looking at the dance floor, his eyes taking in the dancing bodies, swaying, twerking and grinding. His eyes fall on a familiar head of hair, squinting in the lowlights of the club, the person turns and there's no mistake it's you. His breath catches in his throat, he blinks a few times. The smile on your face is undeniable, your body is moving to the beat of the music. You step to the side just a bit and Fernando's blood turns cold, there he is. The rumours are true after all. Jenson's hands move to your hips pulling you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck loosely as you move.

Fernando drowns the rest of his drink before he turns and order's another one, his friends cheer him on. Fernando refuses to dance, but he keeps his eyes on you. No matter how hard he tried to ignore you and ignore how close you and Jenson are. You go to the table you share with Jenson, who then heads to the other side of the bar, across from where he's standing, ordering drinks for the both of you before he heads back to the table. Fernando could tell that the drink is not something you usually like to drink.

He turns to his friends but when he next glances in your direction he sees you sipping your drink. He smiles to himself, he knows you better than anyone, better than he knows himself even. Time goes by, with Fernando keeping an eye on you, the only time you escape his eye is when he heads to the bathroom. The music is dull in the bathroom relieving his headache, and giving him a moment to think. Fernando stares at himself in the mirror, he's confused, he's hurt. How can you move on so fast? How can you be happy, when he's still hurting?

Splashing water on his face he takes a long breath and leaves the bathroom, wanting to end the night, he'll say his goodbyes and leave the club. While he's heading out of the bathroom, a body hits him. He stumbles back a few steps, his arms go out to steady the other person, he takes a breath and freezes, he knows this smell. He looks down and your eyes meet his. Yours go wide, clearly you haven't noticed him at all though the night, while he had his eyes on you the whole time.

"N-nando?" You mutter confused, he could tell you're a bit drunk.

"Hi." His heart skips a beat at his nickname coming out of your lips so easily. His arms are still around you, and neither one of you tries to move. You've sprayed the perfume Fernando got you on your first anniversary and you've been rebuying since then.

"Hey." You breathe out, your eyes not straying away from him. You hear someone rounding the corner, you both take a step back from each other, Fernando's arms fall by his sides. They're itching to fall back on your waist. Where they made themselves home for so long. "How are you?"

"I'm alright." Fernando says and he takes all of you in, you're as beautiful as ever. "How about you?"

“I'm okay”

“Good, that's good.” He says and you stand in silence for a moment.

“I-uh- I need to go to the bathroom.” You say pointing to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. yeah, of course. Fernando wanted to say so many things but it seemed like he couldn't get his mouth to move, for any sound to come out. "Bye.”

"Bye." Once more Fernando watched you walk away and once more he couldn't stop you.

Fernando leaves the club. When you get back to Jensen you ask him to go, he agrees immediately, he picked up on your change of mode.

Two days later

Jensen is at your house, you called him telling him you needed to talk. He had a feeling what the talk was about, he's not stupid.

"Hi." Jensen says leaning in for a quick hug, before you both make your way to the living room. The mood is sombre, you both sit down on the sofa facing each other. Your emotions have been conflicted and knotted up for so long, and no matter what you did to untangle them or pick them apart you couldn't. You couldn't move on, you couldn't stop loving Fernando, you couldn't keep him out of your thoughts. Day and night you thought of him, he's consuming your life. It's like an addiction, you're addicted to him and being with him is what quilled that addiction, now that he's far away, your need for him intensified.

Your relationship with Jenson has been nothing but a distraction, you know it's unfair to Jensen, you've known for a long time. The selfish part of you made you stay even though you knew you couldn't give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

Looking at the man you've been fooling for months, you felt claustrophobic, like the walls around you were closing in. Your emotions were bubbling, it was harder to breathe. Jensen places his hand on top of yours and you meet his eyes. Jensen gave you the kindest smile, making the guilt chew you up.

"It's okay, I know." He says softly, your eyes well with tears and your lips wobble. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You manage to say getting choked up. Jensen scotches closer to you and pulls you in for a hug. Here you are breaking up with him, and he's the one comforting you. "I thought I'd get over him."

"I know." Jensen knows you're not a bad person, and when he asked you out, you were hesitant but he insisted. He thought you'd get over Fernando, guess, you were both wrong. "I thought so too."

"You've been super nice to me, and I've been nothing but an asshole, oh god, I can't believe how much you've endured because of me, I'm so sorry Jensen truly, I didn't mean to." You ramble pulling away from Jensen so you could face him.

"I know you didn't mean to, I know you y/n, I know who you are, and how you're like, believe me, I do." Jensen said, patting your hand. "It just wasn't meant to be.

"I'm s-"

"If you say sorry, one more time, I'm not going to forgive you." Jensen cuts you off and you give him a tear, sad smile. Jensen gets up and heads to the door, he opens it, but before he steps out he stops and turns to look at you. "Do me a favour?"

"Of course."

"Talk to him." You don't have to ask to know who he's talking about. You nod and give him a smile, before he closes the door and he's out of your life.

You don't deserve him, he isn't mean for you. Whoever he ends up with will be a lucky woman. 

It's the weekend, and you find yourself at a pub you and Fernando always went to together, it's small and discreet. Not once have you been recognized. It was a place you both went to when you wanted to drink out of your house. Walking into the familiar place, nostalgia hits you, the familiar scent and the dim warm lighting you know very well.

Walking up to the bar, your eyes go to the booth you usually shared with Fernando, your backs to the door and the pub, it's empty. You tear your eyes from it and to the bar where you want to spend the night. On a stool, sits the back of a man you know so well. You both came here, it may be a coincidence, but like in the club you like to think it's fate, it's a sign. You take the chair next to him, and wave the bartender over.

Fernando frowns, there's so many empty chairs, why did it have to be the one next to him that's taken. He doesn't bother to look up from his half empty cup. When your voice reaches his ears to the familiar order of your favourite drink, he thinks he's hallucinating. He only had one drink and he didn't even finish his glass. Fernando takes a deep breath and he smells the familiar perfume. It's you. With your drink placed in front of you, and your arms on the bar top, Fernando hesitates. He second guesses himself before he places his hand on yours, you turn your hand and lace your fingers together. The relief is evident in his eyes, you both look at each other, a tearful smile on your face, as Fernando releases a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry." You mumble, Fernando shakes his head no. He stands up and turns your chair so he's standing between your legs, His hand cups the back of your head while the other goes to your waist.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles in your hair, he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I should've tried harder."

"I also should've tried harder, we both need to work on us." You tell him and he agrees with you. "God. Fernando, I can't live without you."

"I can't live without you too, amor."

Maintaglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . 

[plasma-studios]

more on mercy thoughts Cross' character is tied inextricably to the idea of freedom. will not spoil XGaster's role in the story, but yknow, it's XGaster. obviously there's some history there that may or may not be related to the themes of control and freedom.

Cross’ freedom lies at the hands of XGaster, Dream and Nightmare, and each of these relationships is a different take on freedom that all together demonstrates the Cross’ experience with freedom.

Nightmare’s relationship with Cross goes along the lines of:

“What is freedom when survival opposes it?”

even from the very first chapter, Cross' answer to that question is "survival over freedom"; he consistently priorities Nightmare's orders over his own wants, for the sake of his survival. even if it means sacrificing his own sense of autonomy. he is even resigned to this fact. and it makes sense; he had to adapt to survive, and this is what was left with him.

interestingly enough this differs with Dream; when Dream allows him freedoms with strings attached, he is so often irritated and frustrated, at least internally with some level of suppression. this goes to the question that their relationship explores in the current arc:

"What is gaining freedom if it is conditional?

again, he does not greet the granted leeway with gratitude or anything remotely positive. which obviously makes sense, he's not stupid, but if we look at it at a closer level: the increased freedom holds little value, because survival is prioritised above it. think about it. if survival is linked to Nightmare's orders, Dream's granted freedoms in order to persuade him to betray Nightmare represent the conditional freedom being contradictory to survival.

and then we get to the question shared between both relationships:

“Is loyalty a form of freedom or a form of bondage?”

with nightmare, his 'loyalty' is rooted in survival. his survival is bound to his will. however, interestingly enough, this strict hierarchy allows him to focus on survival without being swamped with turmoil: he is perfectly clear on his and Nightmare's relationship. he knows very well that his loyalty is transactional. he can and has detached himself emotionally from the idea of loyalty being a moral obligation, and rather a necessity. we see this impact the way he acted as his time as a council spy: he was emotionally distanced from everyone, even CORE, because loyalty was no longer by emotional allegiance, but a tool for survival.

with dream, freedom does not mean his loyalty, because conditional freedom is contradictory to his survival. he cannot embrace this sort of freedom as there is always the risk compromising his survival. so he must reject it. survival must take precedence over any loyalty that risks his existence. true freedom cannot coexist with the threat of loss.

[delfiore]

—DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT (3/3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x android!reader

synopsis: natasha finds a way to to lure you out; and, a confrontation.

warnings: canon violence

word count: 3.8k

a/n: last part wooo!!! i’m so glad this idea is fully written out now after sitting in the dungeon for like 2 years.

PART I, PART II

Natasha had known pain like any other feeling.

The Red Room ensured her a lifetime's worth of it. But rarely, though, has she ever felt the pain of betrayal. Perhaps the Sokovia Accords had given her a taste, but it was nothing compared to when she looked you in the eyes, knowing that you had just tried to kill her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you had said. So easy to just say sorry as if that would solve everything.

Was everything you and her had together all a lie? A part of the scheme created by whoever was sick enough to be behind all of it? You had been the perfect little spy, Natasha should have known.

She let her emotions compromise the Avengers.

"Well?" She turned around when she saw Steve walk into the common lounge. He was still in his suit, meaning he must have just returned from patrol.

"Still no sign of Y/N or VULCAN's location," he replied. "Tony's saying we attempt to catch another android. Only this time, we make sure we get whatever information we need out of it."

"That won't work", Nat shook her head. "Those things are airtight. Their programs won't allow it."

The Captain pursed his lips, watching his teammate and friend stare at the monitor displaying your information. "Nat." He spoke quietly.

She stayed silent. If only I had been more vigilante, she wanted to say.

"There was no way you could have known." Steve sighed, setting his shield down by the table. "She managed to fool everyone."

Natasha chewed at her lower lip, looking to the ceiling to stop the wetness from spilling out of her eyes.

"I let her fool me," she exhaled. "I won't let it slide."

"What's your play?" Steve asked.

"I racked my brain, trying to understand why. Why infiltrate us? Why get close to me?" Natasha turned to him. "And then I got it. They want to create an army, but not just any army; an army of androids. Think Ultron's army, but each of them possesses the same intelligence and mental capacity that humans do. That's what Y/N is, a perfect soldier."

"So how do we stop 'em? Can't be as easy as punching our way in like we did with Ultron," Tony appeared from the doorway with a mug in his hand. "I mean we don't even know where they are."

"There’s something that I haven’t told you, about my past,” Nat pursed her lips before she continued. “In the Red Room, they used a formula to control our minds. The other day, I checked my laptop for a file disguised as the real formula. Sure enough, it had been copied, no doubt by Y/N when I wasn’t looking.”

“So she doesn’t have the real formula?” Steve asked.

“Which means we still have some leverage.” Tony said grimly. “We need to hurry before we lose that too.”

Natasha inhaled warily and nodded. She wasn’t used to being on the losing side, and she would you just what it felt like to be backed in a corner.

It was easy for you to adjust to your new position at VULCAN. With the data from the Red Room retrieved and in Caesar's possession, you became his favorite among his human and android soldiers. Instead of your regular civilian clothes, you were now dressed in dark and tight clothing fit for a spy. A real spy, that's what you were now.

As you approached his office, the guards by the door saluted and granted you entrance without a word. Caesar was looking out the window wall behind his desk, his back facing you.

"16."

"Sir." You lifted your chin. "Batch PF200 has just finished being assembled. They should be ready to be deployed in a few days."

"Good," Caesar said, unmoving. You took that as a sign to be dismissed, but as you turned to leave, he spoke up. "Wait."

You straightened up again. "Do you remember why I created VULCAN?"

"To create a better world, sir." You answered without hesitation. "To arm the world with intelligence void of human errors."

"Correct, and yet," he turned to face you, his eyes hard and dark. "All you've done ever since you were activated is FAIL!"

His sudden outburst made you jump out of your skin. Your breathing quickens as you watch him pull out a USB from his pocket, and toss it on the table. It was the one you handed him.

"It's a fake." He gritted his teeth.

"B-But, I thought—" You sank to your knees with a scream as a volt of electricity coursing through your body in an instant. Looking up, you saw Caesar with a remote in his hand, his knuckle turning white at how hard he was pressing it.

"Where is the real file?!" He shouted over you.

"I-I don't know, I thought that was the real file! I took it off of Natasha Romanoff's personal computer." You blurted out quickly.

"I ordered you to kill the Black Widow, and you fail, but this?! This was the whole reason I brought you online!" You flinched at his tone, as you doubled over on the floor. Caesar had never treated you like this before. It made you fear whatever punishment came next.

"I'm sorry, sir," you uttered meekly, your legs still spasming preventing you from getting back up.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head. "It seems there might still be some . . . shortcomings in your program. That would be my fault, I failed. You're a failure, 16."

You swallowed and pushed yourself up, your legs still wobbling but you stood, though your eyes were stained with tears. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." You wanted to sound firm, to make Caesar believe that he could trust you again. Without Caesar's trust, what did you have left?

"No, it won't." He said bitterly and leaned into you. "You are a weapon, 16, and you will be of use in that front. You will kill, and you will be good at it. As for your well-roundedness, well . . ."

Caesar walked over to the adjacent wall, and pressed a button next to it. The wall unblurred and revealed a lab below where engineers were working tirelessly on another android model. Its left arm and leg weren't yet connected to the rest of the body, parts of them laying at the side. The torso was bare, still revealing the metal underneath the skin that would be put on. But its face was what caught your attention; it was as if you were staring at another version of yourself, a disembodied jumble that was still blissfully asleep.

"I've been working to improve you, 16," Caesar said, looking down proudly at his creation. "The Winter Soldier program shocked and froze its Soldiers to keep them in line, but they’d never truly have control over them. I have the resources to start anew each time the current one becomes faulty.

This is model FD700-17, your successor. It will be faster, stronger, more intelligent, and most important of all, absolutely void of human errors. Perfection."

Your eyes burned, your extremities ached from the current, your heart broken in half. Why did you ever think that you weren’t expendable? You were a machine, and there was always going to be something else coming along to replace you. Maybe being with Natasha made you feel special, like you could live a life. None of that mattered anymore.

“I have a lead on the real formula, sent by the Black Widow herself.” Caesar came up behind you. “Tick tock, 16, or your next stop will be the scrap metal yard.”

The address Natasha sent lead you to an abandoned warehouse by the piers. It was clever, no one ever has business here, and those that do usually wishes to keep their presence under the radar. You walked in cautiously, hand on the gun you had by your belt. You armed yourself generously; every pocket you had you had put something sharp in it, not that you planned on using it on Nat.

By the time you reached the third floor, you stilled your movements to listen to your surroundings, but all you heard was water dripping from rotten pipes and the sound of the city in the distance.

“If I had known it’d be this easy to smoke you out, I wouldn’t have bothered with all the patrolling we’ve been doing the past few weeks,” you heard a voice spoke behind you.

Turning around, you saw her standing where you came in, dressed in her combat suit, her hair braided and by her shoulders. Behind her, you could see the hilts of her machetes peaking out. She wore a teasing smile on her face like nothing happened.

“You expecting a fight?” You called out.

“Just being cautious.”

“Are we alone?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” It was a big feat asking that after all the deception that you’ve done. Humans tended to not be rational after they’ve been lied to, thinking that transparency isn’t warranted on their end. You expected it from Natasha.

“Where’s the disk, Natasha?”

She pulled it out and held it up in between her fingers. “You mean this?”

What you didn’t expect was for her to toss it over to you, just like that. What you needed was in your hands. You looked at the formula in your hands; you’d had to give up your humanity for this.

“Everything you need is on there, or rather, your maker does,” she said.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I trust that you’ll do the right thing,” she spoke, her eyes soft and empathetic. “I know that if you really wanted to give it to your maker, you could have a long time ago. Something’s holding you back, that’s your humanity, Y/N.”

“That’s not my name.” You shook your head. “I-I don’t have a name.”

“You can still make the right decision,” she took a step closer. “Help us take Caesar down, help me.”

“And then what?” You scoffed humorlessly. “What place do I have in the world? I was made to kill, Natasha. I was made to sabotage and kill you until he decided that I wasn’t good enough. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not good enough.”

“I know you don’t think I know how you feel, but I do.” Natasha looked at you. “Okay? I do. I was made to be a weapon too, one my own handler could just discard if he felt like he didn’t need me anymore. You’d find that a lot of us have similar stories, but we can’t let them win, Y/N. We deserve a chance to live too.”

Her eyes were stained with tears. “You’ve made my life worth living.”

You were crying too, but your tears were synthetic. You had a chance once, but you didn’t go down that path, and now you were here.

Now you were here.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been stalling.” You spoke quietly.

A loud explosion sounded outside the building, rattling the entire structure. The sound of helicopter blades swarming and landing cut through the night.

“We got incoming, Nat!” You heard Steve’s voice through her intercom.

“So much for being alone,” you utter coldly, and turned on your heels to escape.

There was a loud shriek, a sound of metal giving out. You looked back, and the floor was collapsing in front of you, a dark pit opening up ready to swallow Natasha with it. You didn’t think. You leapt towards the edge, and extended your hand hoping you’d be fast enough to catch her. When she looked up, her face was covered in dirt and grime, in her eyes a rare display of fear.

Whenever you decided to go against your program, your head becomes warm, your body becomes limp, and your judgment slows. It was so debilitating that you sometimes feel as if you had no control over your body at all, your mind screaming at you to obey, obey, obey. And yet you gathered your strength. Yet, you pulled her to safety.

Your superhuman strength and the momentum at which you hoisted her upwards threw her onto the other side of the floor, her body hitting the ground with a thump.

“He won’t let me go,” you knew either way you would die, but it would be by Caesar’s hand.

Without a word, she took your hand and jumped out the window as the rest of the building sunk into a pile of rubble.

The rest of the Avengers quickly assembled around her, but hesitated once they saw you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony floated above the others. “Your room at the Compound’s still vacant. Why don’t you come back with us?”

You laughed, and sat back, still reeling from the impact. You almost missed the searing pain that pierced your side of a bullet fired from distance.

“Y/N!” Natasha gasped.

Your eyes followed the bullet’s line of projection. There it stood, the image of what Caesar wanted you to be, what you could have been but never would be.

FD700-17.

Its eyes were cold and hard, as it holstered the gun it used to shoot you.

“At last, the Avengers.” He reveled in the moment, but scowled when he turned to you. “I should have known you would betray me sooner or later.”

“We’ve done this dance before,” Tony shrugged. “We’ll do it again.”

“Eyes up, guys.” Steve said and charged. 17 was the exact replica of you, and therefore smaller in stature than him, yet it blocked his fist like it was nothing and sent him flying back with a single punch.

Caesar cackled beside it as his army of androids lined up behind him.

“Leave it to me.” You stood up, the bullet materializing out of your stomach. You palmed it and tossed it aside.

17 charged like a bull that saw red. Its punches were heavy and skillful, but familiar. You realized that Caesar had used the same combat program for 17 that he used for you. You matched each other stride for stride, like fighting a mirror.

“You disobeyed Caesar,” it voiced, eyes blazed. “You’ve become weak.”

You managed to block a right hook but didn’t see a knee coming up to thrust into your open wound. You sank to your knees with a cry of pain. You felt a hand grab you by your hair and drag you towards a piece of broken scaffolding that perked up from rubble. It attempted to press your neck into it, its strength overbearingly dominant over your injured body.

“But don’t worry,” 17 seethed. “I’ll take your place.”

You used the last of your strength, fueled by fury, to push back. A headbutt sent 17 stagger back, and you grabbed its head and reversed the position that you were in mere seconds before.

“There’s too many of them!” You heard Clint cry out in the distance.

“Keep going! Don’t quit!” Sam called back as he slammed his wings into one of the androids.

17 was stronger and pushed you back, then proceeded to pummel you hard. When it was done, you noticed half of the shell on your face—the one that gave you your human appearance—had fallen off.

“Traitor!” 17 yelled. “You’re ignorant of the good that Caesar could be doing to the world. You don’t understand his cause!”

“Is that what he’s been telling you?” You managed to utter, spitting out blood. “‘Cause he told me that I was his favorite. That’s what he does. Why do you think I’m number 16, you’re 17? Once he’s bored of you, he’ll toss you aside like you’re nothing.”

For the first time, you saw the corner of 17’s lips perk up. “So naive. This is why you’re no good. I would not let these petty emotions get the way of my service. I will die knowing I’ve serve my purpose.”

It’s got the upper hand, not having an open wound in a spot where it would hurt with every turn of the body. You were staggering when 17 charged towards you, hugging your stomach to slam you down on the ground with a thud. It clamped you down by straddling your midsection.

“So long, 16.” 17 said, pointing a gun at your forehead. You closed your eyes and waited for judgment.

“No!” A scream sounded from afar, then the sound of metal hitting 17 above you. It was Natasha. You opened your eyes, and redirected the gun away from you, just as it went off. In a split second, you had disarmed 17, and had it under your boots.

With a swift precision, you fired into its forehead, the left side of the chest where the synthetic heart would be.

“Too slow, junior.” You muttered, looking down at the corpse of your successor.

“16!” You heard a yell. Turning around you saw Caesar bleeding from his temple, keeping Natasha in a headlock, a gun pointed to her head.

“Let her go!” Tony held out a hand that would fire a rocket at him.

Caesar snickered. “You’ll never understand the magnitude of what I could have achieve with VULCAN, you never will.” He turned to you. “You’re too human for that.”

You sucked in a breath. “I refuse to be your machine.”

“Oh. Is that so?” He squeezed the barrel of the gun into Natasha’s temple, earning a squirm from her as she tried to free herself. “All because of her? She’s barely human. All the things she’s done, all the blood she’s spilled. I’d be almost tempted to take her back, pull her apart and put her back together to become a worthy soldier of mine.”

“It’s over, Caesar. You have nowhere else to run.” You staggered closer. “Let her go if you don’t want to be locked up in the Raft for the rest of your life”.

He took a step back, almost reaching the edge to plummet into the Hudson River. Steve blocked his right next to Clint, while Tony raised his arms feom the left flank. He was completely cornered.

“See, this is why you think you can be human, but you never will be.” Caesar growled, a wild grin on her face, blood caked on his white hair. “I’m your maker, I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

He didn’t let you respond before aiming the gun at his own head. When he fell to the ground and his head hit the asphalt, he was dead.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and suddenly the pain of all the injuries you carried. You didn’t even have half of your face plate anymore, lost somewhere under scraps of the fight.

“Nat . . .” You shuddered, and walked over to her. You hesitated and stopped a few paces before her, but she threw herself at you, locking you in a tight embrace.

She let out a tearful laugh when she pulled back, examining your injuries.

You felt your breath getting more shallow as the second passed. Your oxygen compartments have been punctured, and you saw the warning in your vision: “Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

You thought you might have lost your balance and collapsed, but Natasha caught you in time. You rested your head on her lap, your right eye had completely malfunctioned, and you could only see that Nat were crying from the peripheral of your left.

“Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, but you did know if your voice was strong enough for her to hear.

“Shh, stop talking,” she refused to meet your eyes, scanning your battered body, and grasping your hand, “reserve your strength.”

“I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” you smiled, but you barely see anymore. “I wish I could have been . . . someone you deserved.”

“You were everything I wanted and more,” Natasha spoke, then rummaged through her pocket. “See this? See this, Y/N? That’s for you.”

She held the ring in front of you, but your eyes were glazed, and staring past her towards the night sky.

“Y/N?” She whispered, like a prayer, like it would somehow pull you back to her. “Tony! Please.”

The man came by your side, but somehow he knew that it was too late.

When you were activated, you didn’t have a mission. The first emotion you thought you could register was surprise. Why don’t I have a purpose?

You were laying in a bed in a room, one that you thought you had been in before. Its design was modern, sleek, yet elegant with great feng shui. Where were you? You sat up carefully, feeling refreshed and relaxed, as if you had just woken up from a well-deserved sleep. Whatever happened before you slept, you had no recollection of.

The door clicked open, a woman with red hair and an older man with dark hair entered. She had a look of timidness when she came closer, and judging by the lack of confidence in her stance, you assumed she meant you no harm.

“Hey, kid. Glad to have you back.” The man said with a smile. You scanned your database, no memory of him whatsoever.

“You know me?” He nodded. You didn’t even know who you were.

You looked at your hands, your fingers. They curled and uncurled with exceptional speed and precision.

“Nanotechnology. Impressive” You concluded. “Are you my maker?”

The man laughed, and shook his head. “No. Just someone with a knack for electronics, and tried to fix you up.”

You turned to the woman who has been silent this entire exchange. There was a name. “You’re . . . Natasha.”

This came as a surprise to her. She gasped as her eyes began to fill with tears. “Yeah, that’s me,” she said. “How did you know that?”

You shrugged. “It’s the only thing in my database. Why is that?”

There was a lightness that washed over you the moment you said her name, like a bout of heavy rain washing away all the weight of the world, purging you then making room for a new beginning, a fresh start.

Memory was a funny thing like that. Her name must have been the only thing salvaged from your last iteration.

Natasha.

You had no mission, yet you were here. No purpose, yet you were here. Figured, you would make your own purpose in the world, and you knew just where to start.

[wutheringmights]

can i ask for the hot mess commentary plz?

sure

Before we crack into this, take a moment to read what I said about the neck thing. I write that up a long time ago, but it provides some important context and is a good refresher on the secret history of Spirit's bi awakening.

Also, the director's commentary for this chapter is here, in case you want to review that.

Good? Okay, let's go at it.

So.... they had sex. Yay. Insert jazz hands.

I feel like I actually have way less to talk about here than I did for the neck thing. Granted, a lot of the neck thing is behind the scenes stuff. I guess that's a good place to start.

You may recall the informal hiatus CTB went on after Spirit came back to Warriors's era. I used a lot of that time to actually work out how to end CTB and what character/plot points I would need to hit to have a satisfying conclusion.

During this time, I was listing out things about Spirit and Warriors that I need to return to. Spirit had his codependent histories with the greenhorn and Zelda, or really his strategy for offering himself up as a means of feeling more in control, that needed to be explored. I needed to do some kind of follow-up with Warriors's latent attraction.

The two topics were similar enough to make me want to tackle them at once. But the moment I did, my brain decided that they should hate fuck. (I definitely was also thinking about my old concept of Spirit's unrequited crush-- I still write the characters like that happened, even if it never actually made it into the story.)

Why hate sex? Honestly, it would be kinda funny. Plus, it's a good writing exercise to ask yourself what would happen if your characters in conflict did (not really).

I knew immediately it could only end badly for everyone involved. But I knew I needed Warriors to hit an emotional low point to motivate him to do his Castle Town plan. I knew I wanted Spirit's big speech to come at a time when he and Warriors were emotionally connecting again, and that the response to that speech needed to push him back to Time.

Shit, I thought. This might be what they do.

But, like. I love protecting my peace. I have been skirting around the edges of homo eroticism with Spirit and Warriors as much as I dared. I didn't want to invite angry anons. But then.... did I really care? I understand where people are coming from, but at the same time... this is such a minuscule non-issue. Truly, and with emotion: who even cares?

First off, we already established with the neck thing that whatever fucked up thing these two have going on does not count as shipping. And second, if it does count as shipping, then fine! It's shipping then. This is what the plot is. I've been working on this story for too long to compromise now. I'll reap the consequences, whatever they may be.

I decided to keep it on the books, half believing I would change my mind once the chapter came up.

I was feeling very confident about my choice, up until the day of posting. That was then I got slammed in the face with regret. Luckily, there hasn't been any issues. I may have overestimated as much the general populous care about CTB. If there was ever any confirmation that this story has the world's most niche audience, this is it.

And you all have been great. There's been a lot of encouragement and kind words from you the readers, after you all stopped yelling, of course.

(Though I was prepared to be an obstinate jackass to anyone who tried to complain. I found a loophole and was ready to exploit the hell out of it. I was so ready!)

Funnily enough, everyone's reactions to the past few chapters helped to reassure me the most. There was been a lot of jokes about Warriors and Spirit having the world's worst situationship (lol).

So them having sex turned into an important character and plot moment. Warriors and Spirit got built up and tore down in self-destructive ways. This experience becomes the wake-up call Warriors needed to decide that he was ready to stop being the hero and get his life back.

A lot of people expressed surprise that Warriors and Spirit would go through with it even after talking it out. To be honest, I was a little surprised too! I was half convinced that Warriors had grown enough to stop the self-destructive cycle and turn Spirit down. But when looking at the scenes leading up to them being alone-- from Twilight denounce his friendship with Warriors, Toto turning him away, and Warriors generally in an emotional rut over his intellect and lost beauty--I realized that Warriors was already in the middle of another downward spiral. He would go through with this, if only to feel valued. It was the war all over again.

Also, apparently half of you guessed that Warriors would get cigarette burns from Spirit eventually. I hope you all were happy with the results!

When I posted that snippet from the chapter, apparently all of you knew that a kiss was coming. Ooops. I'm a little glad I surprised all of you with what happened next afterward.

On to funnier things:

I meant for there to be more compare/contrasts between Warriors's nights with Icarius and Spirit. The only one I really managed to do was Link being unable to sleep next to Icarius vs Warriors falling asleep easily.

Because this chapter and the last were supposed to be one, this scene was supposed to come out around Valentine's Day. Could you imagine?

I had the silliest time trying to figure out how to get Warriors and Spirit alone in a room together. I had this grand plan about them needing to get a room in a different inn from the others, whether because they were too tired to walk home after dancing or because they were too drunk to remember the way. Then I realized that Ganondorf could just give the Chain enough money to get more rooms. I realized this way later than I should have.

If you're wondering.... they switched....

I wrote that Warriors thought that sex with Spirit felt like an argument. That is because they are both the bossiest motherfuckers in bed. They both want things done their way or else. It's combative. Unfortunately, they both like the challenge.

I did have an idea for how to end this whole matter in a funny way, both involving someone from the chain finding out.

In my first idea, Time barges into what he thinks is just Warriors's room, in the middle of some kind of rant. Then he sees both of them sitting in bed, pauses, then promptly walks out. Warriors and Spirit quickly get dress before there's a knock on the door. When Warriors opens, Time walks in casually and starts his rant again while pretending none of this had happened. He would wait until Warriors was alone to be like WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!

My other alternate scenario involves Warriors and Spirit getting a room in a different inn. In the morning, Spirit is hurriedly trying to leave when there's a knock on the door. This time, it's a few members of the chain asking if he's seen Warriors anywhere. He says no. All but one walk away. The one who stays (probably Legend) would lean and discreetly tell him that he knew the room was under Warriors's name, so if they were done, could he tell Warriors to get his ass outside? Cue Spirit burning up in embarrassment.

EDIT: I actually had a third silly scenario idea. Similar to the others, Twilight barges in to talk to Warriors about Midna (they're still friends in this scenario; this was an idea from a long time ago). Warriors is still in the bed, but luckily Spirit is in the bathroom. Warriors tries to have a normal conversation without alerting Twilight that something was amiss. And it almost works until Spirit just walks out of the bathroom, waves, and goes to put his clothes on. Cue Twilight's 404 error.

So, yeah! That's the Hot Mess. As always, it's been really fun to see everyone's reactions. Warriors and Spirit are both extremely polarizing, and I love hearing everyone's hot takes.

Does this count as toxic yaoi? Not until I see an AMV to "Numb" by Linkedin Park. Luckily, Warriors and Spirit will never do this again. Probably.

[amethystina]

The Devil’s Due - Chapter 1 (?)

TW: Mild self harm, mentions of violence, mentions of suicide

—

"Defendant."

Ga On stared down at his tightly clasped hands, the whiteness of his knuckles standing in stark contrast to the bruises and barely scabbed-over scratches surrounding them. His skin was itching, restlessness humming just underneath the surface — loud, buzzing, and insistent. Keeping his fingers laced together was the only way to stop himself from picking at the wounds.

He'd forgotten himself twice already, blood beading on the knuckles of his left hand. Ga On couldn't help staring at the little dots of crimson, glinting in the harsh sunlight slanting in from the high windows.

His leg bounced up and down, his shoulders stiff with tension.

"Defendant."

Ga On swallowed and forced himself to look up. His heart was hammering, the bitter taste of nausea thick at the back of his throat. It took several seconds before his gaze was able to rise high enough to actually meet that of the judge, Ga On's stomach bottoming out as the gravity of the situation hit him full force.

He should have known he'd end up here eventually. Professor Min had warned him, more than once, but Ga On had been too arrogant — too reckless and stupid — to listen.

He only had himself to blame.

"Are we boring you, defendant?" the judge asked, his tone flat with disapproval.

Ga On swallowed again, his throat tight, and shook his head.

"No, your honor."

The judge regarded Ga On for a couple of beats, his gaze unnervingly sharp — downright intrusive. Ga On felt like he was being picked apart, forced to bend and unravel, all at once, until nothing but the bare bones remained.

Until everything had been laid bare, leaving him exposed and defenseless.

Ga On forced himself not to squirm but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't maintain eye contact. His gaze fell, settling instead on the nameplate propped up in front of the judge. He could still remember the concerned wrinkle that had appeared between Professor Min's eyebrows when he'd heard what judge would be presiding over Ga On's trial.

Judge Kang was relatively new to the position, Professor Min had explained, but had already made a name for himself as someone who judged with calm yet ruthless precision. He was rational, firm, and was never swayed by his emotions, immune to both pleas and bargaining.

He judged solely based on the law.

A heartless man, Professor Min had said.

Immovable.

And, from what little Ga On had seen, he had to agree. Despite his young age, Judge Kang carried himself with the confidence of someone much older — someone who commanded attention and demanded obedience with his mere existence. That had been obvious the moment Judge Kang had stepped inside the courtroom, a shift going through the air, everything sharpening — heightening — at his arrival.

A man like that had no reason to negotiate or compromise.

He didn't have to.

"How did you get those bruises on your face, defendant?"

Ga On looked down at his hands again, his fingers clenching tighter, until he could feel his bones grind.

"A fight at school."

The silence that hung over the room was deafening and, as uncomfortable as that made him, Ga On still preferred that over the alternative. He would have felt even worse if he'd been forced to listen to Soo Hyun choke back sobs from the spectator seats somewhere behind him.

He was glad he'd been able to convince her not to come.

Professor Min had insisted, however, perhaps feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to stop the trial from happening. He'd always been able to before, smoothing over ruffled feathers and promising the police to keep Ga On out of trouble. Perhaps Ga On had taken that for granted — some part of him might have assumed that, no matter what he did, Professor Min would always find a way to bail him out.

Except this time, it seemed — though not for lack of trying.

And Ga On didn't blame Professor Min for that. This was Ga On's fault. It was his own recklessness that had gotten him into this situation and he shouldn't expect anyone else to get him out of it.

He could admit he was scared, though — outright terrified.

Destruction of property and assault might not be the worst offenses one could be charged with, but they had the potential to ruin his life regardless. A tough judge might give him prison time. And prison time meant he'd be marked as a felon for the rest of his life. He wouldn't be able to get a proper job and might even have a hard time finding a place to live, since no one wanted a convicted criminal as their neighbor.

Ga On should have listened to Professor Min. He should have been more careful.

He just felt so incredibly pathetic.

Soo Hyun had stopped him from committing murder, only for him to go down for assault and something as stupid as hitting a parked car with his motorcycle. It wasn't even his bike that had caused the most damage — he had, when he'd gotten thrown off and slammed against the hood and windshield.

Ga On's shoulder had been throbbing for days afterward but, miraculously, he'd come out of it relatively unscathed. Perhaps because he hadn't been driving all that fast when he'd taken the turn.

Judge Kang let out a low hum.

"Not from the plaintiff?" he asked. Ga On wasn't sure if he'd ever heard someone's voice sound so flat. It would have been fascinating if it hadn't also been so unsettling. "Did Jung Hyun Woo cause any of those bruises?"

Ga On made sure not to look at the plaintiff in question, instead glancing to his right, meeting the gaze of his lawyer. He didn't really know the woman — she was some acquaintance of Professor Min's who had agreed to help, free of charge — but she'd been surprisingly kind and understanding so far. To the point where Ga On could almost ignore the pitying looks she gave him when she thought he wasn't looking. Those definitely made his hackles rise, but he supposed he couldn't blame her.

He must look pretty pitiful to her.

Lawyer Yeo gave a small nod, wordlessly urging him to answer the question.

Ga On only managed to lift his gaze to Judge Kang's nameplate rather than the man himself.

"No," he replied, voice hoarse. "He tried but never actually hit me."

That was something Ga On had been viciously proud of at the time, but probably didn't put him in a very good light now, while sitting in a courtroom being questioned about the crime in question. Then again, what would? He knew that, to everyone in this room — save Professor Min — he was nothing more than a reckless, violent young man who'd destroyed someone's car and then beaten the owner of said car when he'd been confronted about it.

Ga On had known he shouldn't — even as he'd taken the first swing — but he simply hadn't been able to stop himself. Perhaps because he'd seen the brand of the car — much too expensive for the kind of neighborhood they were in — or perhaps it was the way the rich guy had talked to him afterward. The arrogance and contempt in Jung Hyun Woo's voice when he'd threatened to beat the shit out of Ga On for what he'd done.

Perhaps Ga On had just been too angry — high on adrenaline, pain, and grief.

Either way, Ga On had decided to punch first. If the guy wanted a fight, Ga On would give him one.

Except the rich brat, only a couple of years older than Ga On, had been more bark than bite, too stunned to do much after the first punch had landed. Jung Hyun Woo had clearly never been in a fight in his entire life — probably never even been hit before.

Perhaps not even felt real pain before that moment.

And, somehow, that had only made Ga On angrier, his blows coming faster, harder, out of the sheer unfairness of it all. For a brief, frightening moment, Ga On had wanted nothing more than to transfer all of his pain and suffering onto that spoiled rich kid, through whatever means necessary.

He'd stopped only because some people had come out of a nearby doorway, interrupting him mid-swing.

In hindsight, Ga On was grateful for that, since he was honestly scared of what kind of damage he might otherwise have caused. As it were, he'd landed a couple of blows — enough to break Jung Hyun Woo's nose judging by the bruises and bandage he was still sporting — but not enough to require a longer hospital stay.

That was still bad, though, and Ga On was horrified by his own actions.

He hadn't been able to look Soo Hyun in the eye once since that night.

"Are you proud of yourself, defendant?"

Ga On stiffened, his breath catching. He blinked — once, twice — before slowly looking up. Judge Kang's gaze was just as cool as before, but there was a spark of something else hidden just underneath the surface. Ga On couldn't quite name what that something might be, nor if it was good or bad.

"W-what?" Ga On stuttered out.

Even if Judge Kang didn't raise his voice, it still seemed to fill every millimeter of available space within the room.

"I asked if you are proud of yourself."

Ga On was too surprised to respond at first. And, quite frankly, the answer should be obvious.

What sane person would be proud of themselves in his position?

Eventually, after far too many seconds had passed, he shook his head. He felt a twist of regret, knowing just how little that admission mattered.

It was too late now anyway.

"No," he whispered.

Judge Kang let out another low hum, leafing through what Ga On assumed had to be his case file. He couldn't quite tell from this angle.

"And what about your parents?" Judge Kang asked, his gaze rising yet again, pinning Ga On in place. "Do you think they're proud of you?"

It felt like being kicked in the chest, all the air being pushed out of Ga On's lungs.

He couldn't breathe, the grief blooming too fiercely and taking up too much space to leave room for anything else. A chill settled underneath his skin, numbing him from the inside out, sinking its claws into flesh and bone — until he could think of nothing but the dark, festering sorrow. Nothing but the grief. Nothing but the pain.

It had been over a year, but he was still an empty shell, carved out and left hollow.

The only emotion capable of filling that hole, if only for a little while, was anger.

"I didn't think so."

Ga On could barely hear Judge Kang's words over the ringing in his ears. The nausea was growing stronger, the room swaying even if Ga On was sitting down. Tears burned and, in a desperate attempt to distract himself, Ga On dug his fingernails into the backs of his hands. He could feel them catching on his scabs, some no doubt tearing, but that pain was nothing compared to the breathtaking agony washing over him.

Of course his parents wouldn't be proud of him.

At the same time, Ga On also felt a flash of fierce, selfish anger. Why should his parents' opinion matter? They were no longer there — they'd left him, all alone, to fend for himself. What right did they have to judge him when he was the one forced to live without them?

The rush of guilt that followed those thoughts was shamefully familiar, causing a lump to lodge inside Ga On's throat. He still couldn't breathe, emotions choking him.

Perhaps going to prison was what he deserved for being so angry and selfish. Always causing trouble. Always making Soo Hyun worry. Always forcing Professor Min to fix his problems.

"Do you understand the severity of your crimes?" Judge Kang asked.

Ga On swallowed and, despite the tightness in his chest — and the impending lightheadedness — was able to nod.

"Answer verbally, defendant." The command felt like a physical weight settling on Ga On's shoulders. "It's needed for the record."

Ga On squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging even deeper into his skin.

"Yes," he croaked.

"And have you been informed of the level of punishment you might receive for said crimes?"

It took everything Ga On had not to just nod. He had no idea why Judge Kang was asking him all these questions, but he also knew he was in no position to refuse to answer them. That would only make his situation worse.

"Yes."

"So you realize that you might very well have thrown your entire life away simply because you couldn't control your temper?"

Ga On couldn't open his eyes, the fear and regret spreading through his veins, cold and biting.

He could only imagine the face Professor Min was making in that moment. Ga On had been warned, so many times, but had never paid enough attention. He shouldn't have been so stubborn.

He should have listened.

"Defendant?"

There was a barely stifled snicker from somewhere to Ga On's left. He didn't have to look up to know where it came from — the smug superiority made it obvious. The rich brat was clearly enjoying himself.

Ga On gritted his teeth and pushed himself to speak, desperately hoping his voice wouldn't break.

"Yes." His breath shook. "I'm aware."

A silence settled over the room, tense and oppressive. It felt almost like a living entity, pushing down on Ga On, making him want to curl up and hide. His heart was racing, each beat pushing painfully against his ribs, but that still hurt less than the knowledge of what he'd done. Of how stupid he'd been.

He'd ruined everything — not just for himself, but for Soo Hyun and Professor Min as well.

Soo Hyun would be absolutely devastated.

Judge Kang let out another one of those low hums.

A shift went through the air.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you were given a second chance, would you take it?"

Ga On froze, everything stilling for a second.

Had he heard that correctly? The words themselves weren't all that odd — Judge Kang was clearly gearing up for a lecture of some sort — but the tone certainly was. For the first time since he'd stepped inside the courtroom, there was an emotion other than disapproval in Judge Kang's voice.

He sounded curious.

Ga On looked up, equal parts confused and surprised.

"What?" he whispered.

When their gazes locked, the intensity in Judge Kang's eyes was nothing short of unsettling. Ga On held his breath, a chill traveling down his spine, even as he felt an odd thrill of hope. Not so much because of the question he'd been asked, but rather the look on Judge Kang's face.

The man was still undeniably intimidating with his black robe and artfully styled hair — every little detail immaculate — but there was a slight quirk to his lips now. A hint of humanity that was both startling and strangely captivating.

As if suddenly being shown the man behind the stern façade.

"If you were given a second chance, would you make sure to actually do something with your life?" Judge Kang tilted his head to the side, which made him look even younger — almost playful. "And promise not to make the same stupid mistake again?"

Ga On sat staring in stunned silence, not quite sure what was going on.

Neither was anyone else, it would seem. Ga On could hear hushed whispers behind himself and, in his peripheral, saw Jung Hyun Woo lean over to whisper something to his lawyer. Even the other two judges sitting on each side of Judge Kang were giving him bewildered glances.

The confusion in the room was palpable.

Because while those questions weren't entirely unexpected, the way they were said — the way Judge Kang phrased them — made them seem like something more.

Like an offer of salvation.

"Would you treasure that second chance, Kim Ga On?" Judge Kang asked, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

Despite knowing he was probably being tricked — or goaded, somehow — Ga On couldn't help the desperate surge of hope.

"Yes," he replied. "Yes, I would."

He held Judge Kang's gaze, the fear slowly trickling away, leaving nothing but determined conviction in its wake. If Ga On got a second chance, he wouldn't waste it. He would stop being so reckless. He would stop making Soo Hyun cry, time and time again. He'd make Professor Min proud.

He knew it would be hard, rage and grief still whirling inside of him — even now — but it wasn't worth his future. It wasn't worth causing the few people he had left to love this much pain.

He would cherish that second chance. He'd make it count.

"You would promise to do better?" Judge Kang asked. He sounded amused, with an undercurrent of gentle encouragement that was both soothing and terribly disorienting.

"Your honor, what are you—"

Judge Kang held up a hand and Jung Hyun Woo's lawyer cut himself off mid-sentence. Judge Kang still hadn't broken eye contact, his attention not wavering in the slightest — still focused solely on Ga On.

The intensity was almost too much, Ga On's heart giving a nervous flutter inside his chest.

Judge Kang lowered his hand, the room deafeningly silent, no one daring to move or speak. Ga On swallowed, trying to draw breath despite the dryness of his throat and tightness in his lungs.

"You would promise to do better?" Judge Kang repeated, lower now — smooth and cajoling in a way that sent a jolt of something down Ga On's spine.

The question sounded dangerous all of a sudden, as if Ga On was about to enter a binding contract of some sort — one he didn't even know the terms and conditions of, but also couldn't afford to say no to.

He didn't want to go to prison. He didn't want this stupid mistake to ruin his entire future.

At that point, Ga On would be willing to make a deal with the devil if he so had to, let alone the supposedly heartless judge in front of him.

"Yes."

Ga On couldn't quite decipher the look on Judge Kang's face, but he seemed pleased with the answer.

"Are you sure?"

Ga On nodded, jaw clenching. "Yes, I'm sure."

He'd spent the past year making things difficult for Soo Hyun and Professor Min, too dumb to listen to their warnings. Nor had he considered the consequences. He thought he had, telling himself he was prepared to face his punishment, should he ever get caught. Some part of him might even have hoped he would, so self-destructive that he wanted someone — anyone — to just end his suffering.

But he'd clearly been lying to himself.

He didn't want this.

Somehow, this trial, the possibility of going to prison, and the thought of ruining his chances for a future was more frightening than his suicide attempt. Bizarrely, it felt more severe — like a slow, drawn-out punishment as opposed to the quick, sudden end dying would be. And, right now, he wanted neither.

He didn't like what he'd become.

And, if he got the chance to try again, he wouldn't take it for granted.

A couple of seconds passed, Judge Kang scrutinizing Ga On with that unnerving intensity of his — as if trying to assess his honesty. Whatever answers he found must have been to his liking since he soon gave a small nod.

"Very good."

An unexpected shiver traveled down Ga On's spine and he wasn't entirely sure what to attribute that to — Judge Kang's odd line of questioning or the overall weirdness of the situation.

Ga On was unsure of what any of this meant, his heart thundering away inside the tight confines of his ribcage. He didn't dare to glance at his lawyer again, worried that this would all end the moment he looked away from Judge Kang. As if he might lose whatever imagined chance at freedom this confounding man was maybe offering.

It was Judge Kang who eventually broke eye contact.

Without a word — or explanation of any kind — Judge Kang looked back down at his papers and made a couple of notes. A wave of coldness washed over Ga On, the faint flare of hope flickering, struggling against the sudden onslaught of doubt.

Hadn't Ga On given Judge Kang what he wanted?

Was this all just a trick of some kind?

No one seemed to know, a low murmur of confusion spreading throughout the room. Ga On chanced a glance at Lawyer Yeo, but she seemed just as unsure — though she made enough effort to give him a comforting smile when she noticed him looking. Ga On couldn't bring himself to smile back, feeling too nervous and off-kilter, but she didn't seem to hold that against him.

Jung Hyun Woo's lawyer — Hwang something, if Ga On remembered correctly — was the one who eventually broke the silence, a thread of frustration in his voice.

"Your honor, what's the meaning of this? My client is a busy man and we can't—"

"Then let's continue," Judge Kang interrupted, looking up from his papers as if nothing had happened — as if he wasn't the cause for the delay in the first place. "We wouldn't want to inconvenience your client."

While Judge Kang's tone was perfectly civil — polite, even — Ga On somehow knew that last part had been an insult, not a sign of deference.

Lawyer Hwang seemed to notice as well, his expression souring. But, before he had time to do more than open his mouth — no doubt intending to protest on his client's behalf — Judge Kang crooked a finger, wordlessly signaling for the lawyer to step closer. The gesture looked utterly misplaced within a courtroom and Lawyer Hwang didn't seem to know how to react.

A beat passed without anything happening.

Then, ever so calmly, Judge Kang raised a single eyebrow. Lawyer Hwang stiffened but eventually pushed himself up from his chair and approached the bench. His hesitation was visible in the slowness of his steps and the tight line of his shoulders. He even glanced at the rest of the room, as if to confirm that he wasn't the only one seeing this.

Ga On wasn't even sure what 'this' was, but he couldn't deny that he was mesmerized. He'd never seen anyone take command so effortlessly before and while some part of him should probably feel wary — if not outright frightened — there was another that was undeniably fascinated.

With nothing more than a look and a simple hand gesture, Judge Kang could make a man do exactly as he asked — even one several years his senior, by the looks of things.

Ga On felt that odd, almost nervous flutter again — a little lower this time — but was too focused on what was playing out before him to really pay attention.

As soon as Lawyer Hwang came within reach of the bench, Judge Kang picked up a sheet of papers and held it out to the man. The angle and distance made it impossible for Ga On to see exactly what was on it, but it looked like it might be one of the photos from his case file. The lawyer looked equally baffled as Ga On felt, but accepted the photo nonetheless.

"Your honor, what—"

"You may return to your seat."

The dismissal was blatant enough to be insulting, but Lawyer Hwang was hardly in a position to refuse. So, instead, he gave a brief nod and did as asked.

Ga On had no idea what was happening and he only got more confused when Lawyer Hwang's steps faltered as he looked down at the photo Judge Kang had given him. Lawyer Hwang threw a startled glance at Judge Kang — who was blithely shuffling through his papers, seemingly completely unaffected by the tension in the room — before hurrying back to his seat.

Lawyer Hwang looked even more tense than before, his face having gone pale.

Ga On wished he knew what was in that photo.

"We will proceed," Judge Kang announced, effortlessly slipping back into his calm, businesslike demeanor from before. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about the hushed yet clearly heated whispers going on between Jung Hyun Woo and his lawyer. "Defendant, do you have anything else you would like to add?"

Ga On startled at the question, tearing his gaze away from Jung Hyun Woo and Lawyer Hwang to instead focus on Judge Kang. The previous glimpse of humanity had been wiped away, leaving the same aloof and cold judge who had first entered the courtroom. The shift was jarring — and made Ga On wonder which was the real Judge Kang — but he knew it wasn't his place to question it.

Instead, he shook his head. Then, a split second later, remembered to add:

"No, your honor."

A flash of amusement — or perhaps approval — flitted past on Judge Kang's face, but it was so brief Ga On might have imagined it. Ga On swallowed, his thumb rubbing nervously over the knuckle of the other.

"Counsel, do you have any questions for the defendant?" Judge Kang asked, turning his attention to Lawyer Hwang.

The whispered conversation cut off and while Lawyer Hwang made an effort to appear calm and in control, even Ga On could see the cracks in his composure. Ga On had no idea what had been on the paper Judge Kang had given the lawyer but, clearly, it was enough to send them both into a panic.

Ga On's curiosity grew — as did the flicker of hope.

While Ga On might not know what Judge Kang had given the lawyer, it had clearly done something. And it was enough to wipe the smug superiority off of Jung Hyun Woo's face. He almost looked frightened and Ga On desperately wanted to know why.

"No, your honor." Lawyer Hwang paused for a second, as if hesitating, but a swift nudge from his client soon made him continue. "We would like to ask for a short break, however."

Judge Kang regarded the lawyer with a measured kind of blandness, as if he couldn't care less.

"Very well. Will ten minutes be enough?"

Lawyer Hwang nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

"Yes, thank you, your honor."

"Then we take a ten-minute recess," Judge Kang announced. "Defendant, you may step down from the witness stand."

Ga On flinched at suddenly being addressed — he'd almost forgotten he wasn't just a casual observer — but hurried to bow his head to Judge Kang before doing as told. Lawyer Yeo gave him an encouraging smile when he returned to his seat next to her, but he could see the tension in her shoulders. And the way she glanced over at Judge Kang said that she, too, was wondering what was going on.

The previously low murmur of voices swelled as the recess started and only distantly did Ga On take note of Jung Hyun Woo and Lawyer Hwang exiting the courtroom, whispering furiously to each other. Ga On's focus was on Judge Kang, who remained seated at the bench, calmly flicking through the papers in front of him with a detached look on his face.

As if he hadn't just caused the entire courtroom to erupt into furious whispers and speculations.

What was Judge Kang doing? And what had been on that photo he gave Lawyer Hwang?

Ga On's thoughts were churning, curiosity and intrigue almost making him forget where he was and why.

Ga On startled when Judge Kang suddenly turned his head and calmly met Ga On's gaze. He did so with enough precision and purpose to make it obvious he was aware of the staring and had finally decided to address it. Ga On cheeks flushed with embarrassment and even if he told himself to look away, he didn't.

He couldn't.

It was as if his own body suddenly refused to obey him.

Instead, Ga On stared back at Judge Kang, helpless to stop himself, not sure how a gaze could be that intense, even from across a room. It felt almost like a physical touch.

Ga On realized his heart was racing again.

A couple of seconds passed before Judge Kang let out what looked to be a small, amused huff. Then, with a brief yet unmistakable flash of mischief in his eyes, smiled at Ga On. While Judge Kang might act unconcerned and aloof, that smile said that he knew exactly what he'd just done — and didn't regret it one bit.

Such blatant lack of remorse should probably have been alarming — and it was, at least to some degree — but Ga On also couldn't ignore just how smoothly Judge Kang had orchestrated it all, never once breaking his composure.

It was as terrifying as it was impressive.

Judge Kang was dangerous.

And yet, all Ga On felt at that realization was a dizzying flutter in his gut, his breath catching for a split second.

Which was... new.

Ga On tried to swallow but found that his throat was too dry, his thoughts tumbling over themselves. He felt his blush deepen and, finally, through much effort, was able to tear his gaze away. He stared down at the table in front of him instead, spine stiff and heart pounding. He had no idea what was going on — why he suddenly felt so nervous, his skin prickling with awareness — but he could tell now wasn't the time.

Not in the middle of a courtroom, while waiting to see if he'd sealed his own fate with one careless act.

Ga On laced his fingers together in his lap before closing his eyes, trying his best to tune out the whispers. He didn't look at Professor Min, afraid of what he'd see on his face — feeling far too raw to handle the inevitable concern and disapproval he'd probably find there. He'd wait until after the trial, whatever the verdict would be.

Ga On's throat tightened as whatever brief spark of hope he'd felt during Judge Kang's questioning began to dwindle. Of course there would be no second chance for him — not when he was actually guilty of the crimes he was accused of. He should be punished. Just because he regretted his actions now, when he was faced with the consequences, didn't mean he should be forgiven.

He would be a coward to try and run from this.

And yet, Ga On couldn't deny that he felt a clench of panic as silence began to settle over the courtroom once more, signaling that the break was almost over. If he could have frozen time, right then and there, he would have. He didn't want to hear the verdict. He didn't want it confirmed that he had, in fact, ruined his life.

He should have listened to Professor Min.

Ga On didn't open his eyes until Judge Kang started speaking again, Ga On's shoulders coiled tight with tension and heartbeats loud in his ears. He couldn't bring himself to look up, though, instead staring down at his hands — at the scabs and blood on his knuckles, and the half-moon-shaped indents from his fingernails on his skin.

"Let us proceed." Judge Kang spoke with cool efficiency, Ga On swallowing at the flat tone. "Since the defendant—"

A low, apologetic throat-clearing echoed through the courtroom.

"Your honor, if I may?" Lawyer Hwang ventured carefully.

There was a brief pause, long enough that Ga On glanced up at Judge Kang, who was observing Lawyer Hwang with the same impenetrable calm as before.

"You have something you wish to add, counsel?"

Lawyer Hwang got to his feet and bowed formally — albeit stiffly — to Judge Kang.

"Yes. My client wishes to drop all charges, your honor."

Ga On's head snapped up, staring wide-eyed at Lawyer Hwang.

He must have heard that wrong.

Except the wave of surprise that swept over the room, followed by the sudden surge of whispers from the spectators, said that Ga On wasn't the only one who'd heard those words. Only distantly did he register Lawyer Yeo squeezing his arm, his gaze flicking up to Judge Kang instead.

"Drop all charges?" Judge Kang sounded mildly surprised, though Ga On wouldn't say it sounded very sincere. "How so?"

Lawyer Hwang's jaw tightened, but his tone remained impressively polite as he replied:

"Defendant Kim Ga On has expressed his remorse over his actions and, considering his age and situation, my client has decided to show compassion and not pursue legal action. Mr. Kim is young and has his life ahead of him. It would be a shame to ruin his future because of one brief lapse of judgment. We therefore wish to drop all charges and have the case dismissed."

Ga On blinked, not sure how to react. First, while he didn't deny what he'd done, he hadn't exactly shown remorse, either, just that he regretted being foolish enough to end up in this situation. The two were wildly different things. Second, the thought of being pitied by this rich brat made his hackles rise, especially since he knew how hollow the words were.  Third, Jung Hyun Woo probably didn't have a compassionate bone in his body and couldn't care less about Ga On's future.

But Ga On wasn't foolish enough to object, that flicker of hope suddenly bright and blazing, humming through his chest. He held his breath, not quite sure if he dared to believe it just yet — too scared, too hopeful, and too shocked to fully grasp what was happening.

It felt too good to be true.

"If that's what your client has decided," Judge Kang replied, his voice perfectly even, "then the court will of course respect his wishes."

Lawyer Hwang bowed. "Thank you, your honor."

Lawyer Yeo's grip on his arm was tight, but Ga On didn't pay that any mind. He was looking at Judge Kang, both amazed and alarmed by the complete lack of emotion on his face — as if this wasn't at all his doing. As if what Judge Kang had done — whatever he'd written on that photo he'd handed over to Lawyer Hwang — wasn't what had made Jung Hyun Woo change his mind.

Judge Kang inclined his head in acknowledgment before picking up his gavel.

Everything was happening much too fast.

"The case of plaintiff Jung Hyun Woo versus defendant Kim Ga On is hereby dropped. Court dismissed."

The sound of the gavel hitting wood was sharp like a gunshot in Ga On's ears. His breath left him in a rush, like a startled little gasp, his head spinning as the magnitude of what had just happened hit him.

The relief was overwhelming — suffocating — and fierce enough to leave him dizzy.

Slowly, as if experiencing everything through a fog, Ga On became aware of Lawyer Yeo talking to him. He couldn't quite hear what she was saying, partly because of the ringing in his ears, but also the cacophony of voices echoing inside the courtroom. Ga On couldn't really make sense of any of it, but automatically nodded when Lawyer Yeo patted his arm with a beaming smile.

Ga On swallowed — feeling lost and disoriented — and, without conscious thought, driven by some nameless instinct that didn't even make sense, found himself looking toward the judge's bench again. Judge Kang was rising from his chair, effortlessly calm and composed. He picked up the folder from the desk and then, between one heartbeat and the next, his gaze flicked up to meet Ga On's — unerringly precise, just like last time.

As if he'd known exactly where to look.

Ga On held his breath, gratitude surging, but without any real way to express it. There was an entire courtroom between them — loud voices talking, Professor Min approaching in Ga On's peripheral — and too many thoughts, too much to say, for Ga On to be able to voice any of it.

A beat passed before Judge Kang tipped his head in a gracious nod, the gesture seemingly both a blessing and a warning — sealing the deal Ga On had just made.

Ga On had been given a second chance, as promised — now he had to uphold his end of the bargain.

He had to make it count.

And he would. He didn't know how Judge Kang had done it, but Ga On wasn't stupid enough to waste the opportunity he'd been given. He wasn't going to take this for granted.

Ga On's throat tightened and, with the telltale burn of tears behind his eyelids, he nodded back.

No sooner had he done so before Judge Kang turned to leave and, a split second later, Ga On felt the familiar weight of Professor Min's hand settle on his shoulder. Sounds returned — Ga On wasn't sure when they'd become so dull and muted — and he almost swayed in his seat when he turned to look at Professor Min. He felt unmoored again, left adrift, and it took a second before the rest of the world seemed to catch up, slotting back into place.

Ga On took a trembling breath, still a little lost, and realized he was shaking. The relief was staggering, mind-numbing, and when Professor Min crouched down next to him, hand still on Ga On's shoulder — safe and grounding — all Ga On could do was burst into tears.

It was over.

And, through some kind of miracle, he'd been given a second chance.

He had a life again.

—

So this was that idea my brain presented me with, all neatly tied up with a bow. And I wrote down this first chapter within a couple of days, just to make it shut the hell up x’D And I’ve taken down notes for the rest of the story, just in case.

I kind of want to continue? But, for now, I figured I’d throw it up here for... idk. Judgement? Vibe check? To make sure it doesn’t just wither away in my WIPs folder?

Fun facts about this story:

This scene happens when Ga On is 17-18, so BEFORE Isaac dies

The rest of the fic would be set a couple of years later, but also a couple of years before the drama, when Ga On is studying to become a judge

Ga On now feels more indebted to Yo Han than Professor Min for helping him get his life straight, so that will change the dynamic and lessen Professor Min’s hold over Ga On

Ga On has clearly started his gay awakening much, much earlier (his timing is the worst) so there will be fewer sexuality freakouts

Consequently, Ga On has kind of already realised he might not be in love with Soo Hyun, even if he loves her dearly (Yo Han the Homewrecker, amirite?)

Ga On is going to get a little bit obsessed with Yo Han while trying to figure him out, kinda like in the drama except for his own gay reasons instead of Professor Min asking him to

No, Yo Han didn’t just write “drop the case” on that photo — he’s too good for that xD

Ga On is going to come into Yo Han and Elijah’s lives much, much sooner and spare Elijah from so, so much trauma (though there will, of course, be some confusion due to his face)

I just want Elijah to be happy, so sue me

So yeah. I hope you enjoy it! And, hopefully, it sounds like an interesting story? Since I might just write the rest at some point. We’ll see! :D

Thank you for reading 💜

[lostinlewis]

I Want You Around...

Rating: Soft

Words: 808

Laid with a hand under his pillow, his skin bare but for the tattoos that covered it, you stared at the cross that adorned his back as he slept so peacefully you could be mistaken for thinking his life was perfect. 

You imagined it was, mostly. Money, fame and the ability to have whatever or more so, whoever, he wanted at any time, on the surface he had it all, but behind closed doors, when it was just the two of you, his actions told you of the one thing he could never seem to get; someone who stayed.

Lewis would never tell you as much, insistent he was that he did not want to settle down with someone until he was done with racing, free with his emotions he let you taste what it would be like to be loved by him with his gifts, with his compliments, with the way he made sure that you were happy every moment you were with him, but careful was he to never say the words that would change anything, careful was he to make sure he never gave you any false hope. 

It didn’t matter though, you didn’t need him to say the words for you to know where you belonged. It started casual, very casual in fact, a brazen DM sent to ask you to join him at his hotel so many years ago, Lewis made sure you knew from the jump that it was never going to be more than sex between you both and you were fine with that, until you weren’t.

Looking back you would find it impossible to pinpoint the exact moment you knew you had fallen for him, one night quickly turned into seven months of being flown around the world to meet him in hotel room after hotel room, just sex turned into dinner and drinks, turned into nights spent cuddled up in bed watching a series he made you swear you wouldn’t watch without him. 

That was the thing about Lewis, despite how insistent he was that he did not want a relationship, he craved all of the simplicities, all of the comfort that having a partner granted, and he found it in you. 

At first he didn’t seem to mind when you were unable to leave at a moment's notice to be with him, understanding that you had a life and a career outside of him, but that soon changed. Soon he offered to fund your lifestyle, to fund your dream of pursuing writing full time, with the promise of going to him when he called for you. 

It was a deal that had worked out well for the both of you. Lewis got to experience the pleasures of having someone there with him whenever he needed and you got to enjoy a lifestyle of luxury, of peace, if you could forget the fact he would never call you his. 

As you watched him sleep, something you did often, you took the opportunity to curl up in the seat you sat on, your laptop always sat on the table for when inspiration took hold of you, and in the middle of the night, in a hotel room in Italy, you had certainly found that inspiration. 

‘Some people get the fairytale, some people get the husband, kids and the white picket fence, others get what they are given. Love means having to compromise for him, love means having to forgo your own dreams to work with his, love means having to stay even when everyone else tells you to leave. Love is him, and love is everything he makes it. No one chooses love, love chooses them and his found you.’

Lewis stirred, the flow of your typing woke him enough for him to realise you were no longer laying under him, no longer providing him the warmth the covers he had thrown on the floor in the heat of passion could have, his hand left the safety of his pillow as it searched for you on the bed. 

You didn’t move at all until you heard him call for you, vulnerable and soft he let your name ring out through the room as if it was something he did every night. 

“I’m here…”

You knew his calling was your cue to head back to bed, shrugging off the silk gown that you had covered yourself in, you let it hit the floor before you climbed back into bed next to him. 

“I thought you had left.” 

Lewis let his words wash into your skin as he pulled you into him, resting on your bare breast as if the sound of your heartbeat was the only thing to soothe him, he drifted back off to sleep in an instant. 

“I never would. I will be here as long as it takes.” 

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Ubbe Would Include:

Well, he's a bit of a hopeless romantic. He likes to shower his partner with love and affection, but he also enjoys a bit of adventure and spontaneity. He appreciates surprises, from small gestures like a cute text message to bigger things like a spontaneous trip to a new city. He's not afraid to go out on a limb, and he's not afraid to take risks for the people he cares about.

Dating him can be a rollercoaster of emotions. Sometimes he's hot, sometimes he's cold, but at the end of the day, you can always count on him to be there. He may be intense and passionate, but he is also loyal and dedicated. If you're lucky enough to experience his love, it will be like nothing you've ever felt before. It can be a lot to handle, but I promise it's worth it.

Oh, you want to know more? Well, let me tell you that he is not afraid to be vulnerable. He is an emotional man and he is not afraid to show it. He is not perfect, and he makes mistakes. But, he is always willing to learn and grow. He believes in communication and honesty. He wants to be able to share everything with his partner.

In general, dating him is a roller coaster of emotions and experiences. He may not always be easy to deal with, but he is always honest and true to who he is. He enjoys deep and meaningful conversations, but he also loves having fun and making people laugh. He is a complex individual, and he likes to keep you on your toes. If you are looking for a challenge in a relationship, then dating him is sure to be an unforgettable experience.

Dating him means never knowing what to expect. He is constantly evolving and growing, which makes him both interesting and unpredictable. He likes to keep things spontaneous and exciting.

He is also a very loyal and devoted partner, and he will always strive to make you happy. He loves to surprise and spoil you, and he is always thinking up new ways to show his love for you. He is not afraid to put in the hard work and dedication it takes to make a relationship work, and he is always willing to communicate and compromise in order to reach an understanding. He is not the easiest person in the world to be with, but he is always honest and true to himself and his partner.

If you're his partner, you can expect him to be a loyal and devoted supporter. He will always push you to pursue your dreams and ambitions, and he'll be there to cheer you on every step of the way. But be warned, he also expects the same from you. He wants to be challenged and stimulated, both mentally and physically. Dating him means that you'll never be bored, but it also means that you'll never feel taken for granted.

To be in a relationship with him means having his heart in your hands. He is capable of great love and deep affection, but his emotions can also be intense and overwhelming. It takes patience and understanding to be his partner, as he can be demanding and challenging at times. He may have a certain idea in his head of what a loving relationship should look like, and he expects you to live up to that vision. Ultimately, he will always strive to be honest and sincere with you and to make sure that his feelings are known.

In addition to being a supportive and loving partner, he is also a fun and adventurous person. He enjoys trying new things and exploring different cultures. He loves to challenge himself and step out of his comfort zone. He is also a bit of a foodie, and he loves trying new and unique cuisine. He's always up for a good party or a spontaneous road trip. No matter what the occasion, he's always up for a good time with you.

When he is in a relationship, he is very loyal and devoted to you. He loves to spend time with you, and he makes every effort to make you feel special. He makes time for romance and he enjoys showing his appreciation for you through small gestures. He is not perfect and he knows that he will make mistakes, but he is always willing to learn and grow in order to improve himself as a partner. He believes that the key to a healthy relationship is mutual respect, understanding, and communication.

In summary, he is a passionate, protective, and affectionate lover. He is honest and always strives to create a strong foundation of trust in his relationships. He is willing to listen to and consider the thoughts and feelings of his partner, even when he may disagree with you. He also enjoys showing my affection through physical touch. Dating him can sometimes be difficult, but ultimately, he is devoted to you and committed to creating a loving and healthy relationship together.

He has been told that he is a wonderful lover and companion. He is kind, gentle, generous, and loving. He is a man of deep passion and desire and he will shower you with affection and devotion. He is also very protective of you and would do anything to protect you. He is a true Viking warrior at heart, which means he is strong but also sensitive and loyal. You can count on him to be your biggest fan and your strongest supporter.

When you are with him, he will make sure that you are always happy. He will surprise you with thoughtful gestures, like flowers or a romantic dinner, just to let you know how important you are to him. He will do his best to make you feel desired and cherished every day. He will be your protector, your confidant, and your best friend. He will be the one you can turn to when you need a shoulder to cry on or a comforting hug. He will be there for you no matter what because you deserve nothing less.

He is also a great cook and has been known to spoil you with delicious food prepared with love and care. He is an avid hunter and fisherman who loves to provide for you. He is a skilled woodworker and craftsman who can build you a warm and cozy home. He is a passionate lover of music and song, and he will often sing romantic ballads to express his love when alone with you. He is also a huge fan of literature and enjoys sharing stories and poems.

He is a romantic, so he would show his love through thoughtful gestures and acts of kindness. He would be sure to surprise you with little gifts and treats, and he would make sure that you feel cared for and appreciated every day. He would be a thoughtful partner, always listening to your feelings and responding in kind. In fact, he would make it his duty to make you feel as good as you deserve.

He enjoys being tied up or restrained, having control taken away, and allowing you to take the lead.

He likes being teased and edged, not being allowed to orgasm until you allow it. Being denied only makes him desire more.

He likes it when you are a little bit bratty and likes to play hard-to-get sometimes. It's exciting to know that he has to work harder to get what he wants, but when he finally gets it, it makes the experience all the more pleasurable.

He likes having a partner that will tease him too, and tell him exactly what he is doing right and what he could be doing better to drive you wild. He wants to please you and make sure you are satisfied, so he enjoys the guidance and feedback.

In the end, his main kink is pleasing you and creating new and exciting experiences for you. He enjoys discovering your desires and fantasies, learning what you like, and then doing his best to make it happen.

Whether it's trying new positions, role-playing, dirty talk, or using toys, his goal is to make you happy and fulfilled.

Ultimately, making sure you come first and are satisfied every time is the ultimate turn-on for him.

[coochiequeens]

72 and now a widow just trafficked a three year old across international borders.

Edinburgh man, 72, and deceased wife recognised as parents of surrogate child

An Edinburgh sheriff has granted a parental order which recognised a 72-year-old man and his deceased wife as the legal parents of a child born in the USA as the result of a surrogacy agreement.

An Edinburgh sheriff has recognised a 72-year-old man and his deceased wife as the legal parents of a child born from surrogacy.

The three-year-old was born on August 21, 2020, in Oklahoma. This came after a surrogacy agreement that the couple, who were in their late 60s at the time, made before the pandemic.

Following travel restrictions, the man and his wife were unable to travel to America. The child was cared for by a professional nanny.

They were brought back to Scotland in August 2021, and visited a nursing home where one of his parents was three times a week. The court understood that he recognised her as his mother.

The judgement noted that while the parents are "outwith the normal accepted range of parenthood", the father was described as "active and energetic". It was said that he had been enrolled in nursery, while boarding school options were being considered.

Factors such as the connection between the boy and his father, the effect on his identity, and the "legal rights he would have on her significant moveable estate" were also noted.

In her decision, Sheriff Wendy Sheehan said: “I do not consider that the petitioners’ failure to apply to the court for a parental order within six months should operate as a bar to their application. There are cogent reasons which account for the various delays in this application.

"A broad and flexible approach to interpretation of these proceedings should be adopted when this is necessary to secure the effective protection of the rights. That interpretation results being read down so as to read ‘At the time of the application and the making of the order (a) the child’s home must be with the applicants (or in the case of an application where an applicant has died and the application is brought on his or her behalf by the surviving applicant, the child’s home must be with the surviving applicant."

She also highlighted issues that may arise in future, such as appointing a guardian in the event of the father's death. She said that the child's welfare would be "gravely compromised" if the court made no order.

She concluded: “The lack of a parental order would result in a failure to recognise his genetic relationship with the first petitioner and would deny him the social and emotional benefits of recognition of his relationship with his parents with a legality that matched his day-to-day reality. A is well cared for and thriving in the care of the first petitioner. Overall, am satisfied that the orders sought will safeguard and promote his welfare and that it is better for him that I make a parental order than that none is made.”

[beeslibrarycorner]

Movie night with David8

Lets face it, he's going to try and get the both of you to watch Laurence of Arabia and you're going to have to put your foot down because that movie is super slow, you will definitely fall asleep.

All you want to watch is anything but Laurence of Arabia, you are willing to watch paint dry because again it's a super slow and old movie.

Davids not amused.

So the two of you make a compromise: you get to choose the first movie and he gets to watch his beloved film and if you fall asleep then he can finish the movie and then carry you off to bed.

You thought it was fair so you agreed on it.

David was thrilled.

So when it comes time to watch the movie you choose something that you know both of you would enjoy.

The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your jammies with a blanket tucked up to your chins and your feet covered in fuzzy socks. 

You're having a lot of fun and you can see that David is enjoying himself too.

When your movie ends David starts his movie and naturally you fall asleep a good 15 minutes into the film.

When David looks down and sees you sleeping he smiles, he knows every part of the movie.

He tells himself that it can wait until after he puts you to bed so he turns the tv off and he carries you off to bed. 

When he puts you to bed and makes sure you're nice and cozy, he turns to leave so he could finish watching his movie.

He hears you say his name groggily, half asleep and he turns his head to look at you. You looked so at peace but also angry about something at the same time. He understood why you looked the way you did when you uttered the words.

“Please stay with me”

He felt the emotion in your voice, he knew he had to stay because he knew that he couldn't take the time that he had with you for granted; he could watch that movie anytime.

As he walked to the empty side of your bed and got in he couldn't help but feel his synthetic heart swell when you moved towards him like a magnet, your legs clumsily going over his and your arms slowly moving around his torso.

When he knew that you were done getting comfortable he powered down to rest as well, with you warm and safe in his arms he couldn't be more content.

[asknarashikari]

About the W summer movie, would it be just other cases of Philip taking Shotaro for granted too often (since Xtreme debut), or that it's more about the writing regressing Philip that one time?

Regarding what Shotaro has done for him, what'd be a scenario you think it's justified for Philip lashing out (at least about venting and being angry, not physical) at Shotaro or the other main cast? Not saying I'm agreeing or disagreeing here, but the argument IMO sounds like children being criticized for being ungrateful to their parents for what they have provided them (well you did talk about the family thing too here), but dunno.

Hmm... I think in the case of the summer movie, Philip took Shoutaro for granted in a more wounding way, specifically by bringing up the fact that they aren't really family and thus Shoutaro can't truly understand him. And this, after everything they've been through. Even after they literally became one, sharing their minds and souls in a single body.

That's the hurtful part. Philip was blinded by his need to have a blood family and became fixated on Maria Cranberry being that blood family he wanted... even though his partnership with Shoutaro should've made them family in every way that matters.

(To add insult to injury, Akiko and Ryu were also present when Philip lashed out. One wonders how they felt if Philip didn't consider Shoutaro family- when he has known Philip more intimately and for longer than they have. I don't think Philip did, which adds to my view of him being insensitive sometimes.)

I also think Philip questioning Shoutaro's judgement also had a greater effect on Shoutaro than he realized. While he does criticize Shoutaro for being half-boiled (as did everyone really), I think in this case it goes beyond that. He was choosing to trust Maria, a woman he barely knew, over Shoutaro- when Shoutaro would've trusted Philip's judgement on this had he not been obviously emotionally compromised (and they not just gone through Wakana's betrayal, which likely played into Philip's emotional state to begin with).

It probably made Shoutaro wonder what else Philip questioned about him. And add to that Philip not considering them family... Well, Shoutaro was likely wondering what he meant to Philip at all.

As for what would justify Philip lashing out at them... I think, maybe, that if he felt like he was being infantilized by them (e.g. acting like he doesn't know anything due to his lack of experience outside his time in Museum, coddling him, etc) could be a scenario where him losing his temper would be justified. Though no one really treated him that way, tbh.

[who-the-fuck-knows-blog]

So glad people are seeing that Izzy is supportive of who Ed wants to be, as proven by his statement to Ed in 2.07 about following what makes him happy, what feels good, and that Izzy’s brushing off Ed’s “feels like a storm’s coming” is because:

1. Izzy is wasted coming to confront Ed, that doesn’t tend to lead people to be super non-abrasive especially if they have previous severe trauma with the other person, caused by the other person. He’s not super receptive to Ed’s advice. Ed rarely listens to his. Do we know if Izzy would have still rejected Ed’s advice about the storm if Ed had provided something other than a feeling? (actually, additionally, 2.06 is about Izzy learning to trust his feelings and that they’d lead him somewhere safe. The last time we see him with Ed the next episode — the next day — is him saying ‘trust your feelings’ as opposed to the beginning of the episode when Izzy —allbeit drunk— was brushing them off.)

2. because his previous job was to provide pushback and alternatives for Edward. sure, he should also believe him (although i’m sure an amount of trust has been broken in that relationship and ed just got out of a time period where his judgement -to Izzy- was severely compromised) but if a first mate believes anything and everything you say without any pushback, you have negative outcomes. Plus, even though Ed was right that things are gonna get fucked up, he was actually moping at that moment. Ed wasn’t giving Izzy any concrete evidence anything was happening, just “feeling” like a storm is coming, unlike the cloud shapes in 1.04, its not based in a reality that Izzy is perceiving. (Also see above in Izzy’s lesson from 2.06 being that sometimes things feel right or wrong and that leads to him being supportive ultimately of whatever Ed chooses for himself.)

it got a little long so more below the cut

Also that Stede doesn’t love Ed for who he is right now, distinct from Izzy who does love Ed for who he is right now. (I’m not sincerely making the argument that Stede doesn’t love Ed for who he is, this is just exactly how Edward feels currently) Izzy still loves Ed so clearly that he’s encouraging Ed to do whatever makes him happy instead of trying to make Ed do something he doesn’t want (piracy) unlike Stede who is telling Ed who he should be, who he is, and that is someone Stede wants to be with. Izzy is also trying to comfort Stede and tells him openly that he thinks Stede and Ed balance eachother out, and all he wants is for Ed to be happy, and he didn’t realize Stede was healthy for Ed before but now he does and he’s supportive. When he knew something or someone was better for Ed, he went out of his way to both keep it safe, and bless the union, even if it didn’t entirely make sense to him, he’s learning things don’t always make sense to everyone and that doesn’t invalidate them.

And Ed is a complicated man (to others) who is simple (to himself). Mostly because he struggles to communicate with the people around him about how he’s feeling and why he’s feeling that way. He’s never told Izzy why he shot him, how is Izzy supposed to know? Ed’s behavior looks contradictory to everyone on the outside and it’s only because we are granted access to Ed’s internal world that we know why he does things. To someone not being told, that would be confusing. (As far as the average viewer goes, people who dig into Ed and his character and study him would likely know his motivations without being so directly told) To us, he’s not complicated because he’s not being contradictory. Also, Izzy has a very small amount of emotional intelligence (he’s working on it), but he is trying to reassure Stede, and what’s better proof that Edward is complicated than his relationship with Izzy?

Currently as it stands, Izzy is the one pushing for Ed to be who he wants to be, whatever that is (—not to separate Ed and Stede, but because he wants what makes Ed feel the best and who Ed feels he should be—) and Stede is the one telling Ed who he is and who he isn’t. (“you’re not a fisherman!”) Because he thinks he knows who Ed is better than Ed does and it’s paralleling Izzy’s statement from 1.10/his general sentiment.

Even if Ed is meant to be a pirate, he has to come to that conclusion on his own away from people telling him who he should be and who he is. In this case. Izzy is providing healthier advice to Ed because he’s not worried about keeping him close the way Stede is.

In conclusion I would like people to not tell me who I should or should not be shipping. If I want to ship edizzy or steddyhands I can. And I wouldn’t even be doing it because it’s not healthy. Edizzy could end up being healthy with the trajectory they’re on— Ed’s taking responsibility, Izzy’s not trying to dictate Ed’s identity— and they do care about eachother. If anything, these past episodes have proven to me that Izzy will love Ed no matter who he decides to be. That’s the vibe I got. I still think Stede cares about Ed and with help from Izzy who went through a similar thing with Ed, he can work on the issues arising. He has to also learn to let something go.

Steddyhands is not at all unrealistic or unhealthy (if we are applying all these lenses to it and obv it would be tumultuous and rocky but I find those relationships more compelling personally) inherently because of Izzy’s presence.

Edizzy is a perfectly acceptable ship whether or nor you prefer them in their toxic marriage or their ex-ex-divorcee status learning who eachother are outside of the narrow scope of piracy and realizing those are still people the other can love. It can be both!

Edizzy was, after all, intended to be read as a form of love story, so it’s not going against the narrative to ship it.

edit: also will add it’s obviously fine to not ship edizzy for any reason at all

dni if you’re here for an argument