#he knows i like him because i told him years ago

[incrediblyaccuratethoughts]

Added another chapter, here we goooo ~~

-

Tim stepped out of the Batcave to grab himself a coffee. He was gone for 10 minutes.

So tell him why as soon as he closes the entrance, he's accosted with the sound of Jason and Damian bickering over the bat computer. The computer he��d been using for the past 5 hours to try and solve an ongoing trafficking ring.

“I told you my fucking number and I’m no liar,” Jason grumbles.

“Shut it Todd, I’m concentrating.”

Why does this always happen to Tim? What god did he piss off enough to regularly put him in the room when his brothers are arguing? What did he do to deserve such slander??

“You wouldn't have to concentrate if you just believed me-” Jason snaps, as Tim starts to make his way down the staircase, quietly stepping between shadows to avoid being seen.

“I refuse to believe that you’ve killed that many people since you were revived.”

“I’mma crime lord, brat. I’ve killed a lot of fucking people. Not to mention the Pit Rage.”

When Tim gets his first peak of the Bat Computer, he doesn't know why he bothered to be sneaky. At a first glance, Jason looks casually relaxed, his feet up on the desk, but his shoulders are tight and his attention is focused on whatever the hell Damian is doing.

Did Tim mention that he didn’t like where this is going? He would like it on record that he doesn't like this one bit.

“Pit Rage or not, that’s a preposterous number.”

“And that’s a good enough reason to hack into the Watchtower for all the information they have on the League of Assassins?”

Oh shit. Oh fuck .

“Father has encrypted folders stored in their databases holding detailed information pertaining to the League of Assassins." Damian sniffs, "If the information we seek is anywhere, it’ll be there.”

Nope, Tim is definitely not a fan of this development. He’d been meaning to see if he could get to that particular file and erase all mentions of Ra’s obsession with him. Tim just hadn’t gotten around to it.

“And you’re what? Going to hack past Oracle?”

“No,” Damian scoffs, “I know the password.”

Tim scrambles for his phone. It’s not his favorite device to hack from but dammit, needs must.

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"As if I'd tell you."

“Sneaky little shit.” Jason sounds begrudgingly impressed.

For a few moments, the cave is filled with the sound of aggressive typing, before Damian makes a small, pleased noise.

“I’m in.”

From this angle he can’t see what Damian typed, but Tim has been breaking into shit he shouldn’t for longer than he should have been able to. He’s just gotta get in before they can download something they shouldn’t.

“Great, where’s the LOA files? Do they even have the LOA files?”

“Of course they do, the watchtower is updated on every major server-”

Tim frantically pulls up backdoors and firewall scanners, hoping he can slip his way inside despite not being connected to a direct network.

“What’s that?”

“We have a task, Todd. Try to stay focused.”

“No, go back. I’ve never seen that before.”

Damian scoffs, but returns to a file labeled, 'The Detective - Project Failed’

See, this is why Tim can’t have nice things. Every time he lets his guard down for even a second, a meddling brother fucks it up for him. Truly a tragic life he leads.

“It’s nothing important. Clearly it wasn’t successful-”

“Open it.”

“This is not a leisurely perusement of information, Todd. We have a task to fulfill.”

“The file was created two years ago. That’s too recent to have been Bruce.”

Damian pauses, cursor hovering over the file. Tim hopes with everything he has that the kid will ignore Jason’s request.

But of course, because the universe hates him, Damian clicks it.

The Detective

Age: 17

Height: 5’6”

Weight: 131 lbs

"I fucking told you it wasn't Batman. That's Robin levels of scrawny."

"I applaud your clearly superior intellect, Todd." Damian drawls.

"Who the hell taught you sarcasm?"

“I didn’t need to be taught, unlike some.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don't see how this is relevant.”

ABILITIES:

Trained by Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Lady Shiva

Martial arts disciplines including but not limited to:

Kung Fu, Aikido, Jeet Kune Do, Escrima, Krav Maga, Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Wing Chun, Hapkido, Karate, Savate, Kendo, Ninjitsu, Tai Chi, Leopard Kung Fu and Biangan.

Prefered Weapon

Bow staff

Highly skilled combatant

Master Detective, Tactician, and Strategist

Gifted Intellect

Excels in computer science and inventions

Firm grasp of assorted scientific techniques including biology, engineering genetics, forensic, criminology, acrobatics, stealth, disguise, and escapology.

"So I know I made a joke about this being a Robin, but…" Jason trails off.

"These descriptions are too specific." Damien agrees.

AFFILIATIONS:

Batman and his associates

Leader of Young Justice

Leader of Teen Titans

Justice League associates

League of Assassins associates

"Which fucking Robin worked with Ra's of all people?"

"I am the heir of-"

"Tell me when exactly you lead Young Justice."

“Tch.” Damain scoffs.

PERSONAL CONNECTIONS:

Janet Drake (Mother): Dead

Jack Drake (Father): Dead

Eddie Drake (Uncle): Fake Identity

"Oh fuck ." Jason breathes.

ALIAS:

Timothy (Tim) Jackson Drake-Wayne

Robin - Boy Wonder

Red Robin

The Detective

Alvin Draper

"What kind of alias is Alvin ? What the fuck?"

History:

Defeated King Snake (assisted)

Defeated Clusmaster (alone)

Escaped Bane and Killer Croc (alone)

Defeated Firefly (alone)

'Zero Hour'

Defeated KGBeast (alone)

Kidnapped by Zeus - (escaped alone)

First contact with LOA - apocalypse virus

Defeated Cluemasrer (alone)

Lead Young Justice

'No Man's Land'

Defeated Mr. Freeze and Ratcatcher (alone)

Defeated Darkseid (assisted)

'Titans Tomorrow'

Defended Bludhaven from OMAC's (assisted)

Defeated Secret Society of Super Villains (assisted)

Reassembled Teen Titans

Defeated Obeah Man (alone)

LOA affiliation - Objective: [REDACTED]

“No fucking way.” Jason breathes, and judging by Damain’s silence, he shares Jason’s sentiment.

Tim’s frantic typing is yielding no results. Fuck .

“I didn’t think the kid had it in him.”

“I was not aware that Drake was so… versatile in his skills.”

“That’s a fancy fucking way of saying he’s got a rap sheet longer than Santa’s naughty list.”

“He didn’t strike me as the type to work with Grandfather.”

“Yeah, no shit. When did that even happen?”

“By the dates, it would have been during Father’s disappearance into the time stream.”

“ Oh my fucking god .”

Classification: Potential Heir

Mission Success Rate: 98%

Active Member: N/A

Time of Service: 1y 2m 15d

Kill Count: 8,528

“That number can’t possibly be right.”

“Holy fuck, that’s a higher kill count than me .”

“I refuse to believe this. We need more evidence.” Damian states, scrolling down to the detailed notes.

“He blew up a League base?”

“Not just one. He blew up 7.”

“I don’t understand how he would have had the information-”

Tim’s phone vibrates as finally gains access to the Watchtower. It’s too late to have kept his brothers from seeing what they did, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bury his file.

“It says he that he was favored by Ra’s and… that bastard wanted him to be the next Demon’s Head? What the hell did Timmy do ?”

“I don’t understand.”

The data starts disappearing, and Tim clears his throat. His brothers turn around, staring wide-eyed at Tim’s blank face.

His heart is in his throat and his hands are shaking, but he forces a smirk.

“No one will ever believe you.”

Tim turns and sprints for the door.

Without the copies stored away in the watchtower database, his brothers will be hard-pressed to come up with proof about his crimes and really, he’s heard far too many comments about him being one of the more morally sound people in the family, so it’s not likely that his brothers will be taken seriously, but he's not sticking around long enough to get caught.

Tim’s escape lasts about five minutes.

It’s an epic five minutes, there’s a lot of sick flips and narrow misses involved, but by the end of it, the entire family is on the chase.

Which, Tim thinks wryly, is just fucking perfect as he wheezes under the weight of 200 pounds of sheer muscle.

“You have some fucking explaining to do, Timbo.” The jerk that’s currently crushing all of the air out of Tim’s lungs says, but all Tim can do is wheeze.

The weight lifts and oh . Fuck . Yeah, no wonder Tim was on the verge of breaking a rib, Jason was the one who tackled him.

Rude. Tim weighs like. A third of him. The man could at least pretend to use some constraint.

“Tell me why,” Jason starts in a dangerously low tone, “You have the highest kill count in this family.”

Tim tilts his head, the picture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ Bull. Shit . Damian and I saw the fucking file. Deleting it doesn't change the facts.”

Tim's expression doesn't falter. He’s been rubbing elbows with high society since before he could walk. He’s well practiced in a poker face. “What file?”

Jason lunges for him.

A short scuffle later finds both Tim and Jason separated, Bruce with an arm across Jason’s chest and Dick bodily hauling Tim off the ground.

"What's going on?"

Ah shit, that's Bruce's Batman voice.

"Tim has a kill count higher than me." Jason immediately spits, the snitch.

"He worked with Grandfather."

"He blew up 7 league bases."

Every gaze in the room lands on Tim, and he sighs, admitting defeat and slumping in the hold Dick has him in. Damn the man and his octopus arms.

It was a good run. But the gig is up.

"I was in a… bad headspace." He shrugs ruefully, "Black Canary once told me that shared misery is halved misery.”

“Your ‘bad headspace’ lead to blowing up 7 League bases ?”

Tim shrugs. “In my defense, Ra’s is an asshole who has my spleen in a jar. I think he deserves it.”

The arms tighten around Tim, “He has what -”

”Your spleen ?”

“That does sound indicative of Grandfather’s behavior.”

“What the actual fuck, replacement.”

"You have some serious explaining to do." Bruce says, tone authoritative with no room for argument.

Tim sighs. He just wanted coffee.

An opinion. Jason was the only batkid who did not come with a pre-installed Kill option, that was downloaded, after death, while he was with the League. Dick, Tim and Damian, tho, they came with it, and Bruce had to learn to manually turn it off.

99% success rate with Dick and Damian.

76% success rate with Tim who has not killed anybody, but has contemplated it way too many times for Bruce to be comfortable with.

Edit: for all the people who keep saying "But Tim blew up the League bases with so many people," listen, if Bruce doesn't know, it didn't happen. Don't go snitching on my boy like that.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Heyoooo, i just read your say it louder and im in love with that so much like holy, so i was wondering if you could make something kinda similar or something? like maybe logans chasing reader because she stole his cigars and they have a cute moment or something along those lines, maybe end a bit with or with smut? thanks so much babes!

Mine Now | DOFP!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: Primal!Logan, Scent Tracking, Shotgunning His Cigar, Marking, Implied Smut, Reader is a Mutant who has invisibility, Enemies to Lovers because I’m a sucker for pain, Takes place at the very end of DOPF when Logan comes back to the future, Pain Kink, Breathing Play, Choking, Claws come out – I repeat the claws come out,

Rating: R – No Minors

Word Count: 4.5K

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your request! This was a blast to write and honestly? It gave me a good excuse to write for DOFP!Logan! I adore you! 😊 Also completely unrelated side note….you did say you wanted smut, right??? Because I may, or may not, have spaced you said cutesy and went right to horny.

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

“Hank, have you seen her?” Logan asks, his voice layered with annoyance. You couldn’t help but silently snicker as you watched his brow crease, his nose twitch with frustration, his finger rapping at his side impatiently. The way his jaw ticked as Hank narrowed his own eyes at him made it impossible to hold your laughter, even when you were currently pressed up against the wall – a clear view of the situation going down. You pulled your lip between your teeth as you homed in on Logan’s features, eyes glimmering with rage. It was such a beautiful sight to see, one you have been dreaming of for months. Though you’d never openly admit it, everyone knew, all except him. You had to make the chase worth his while.

Logan Howlett is a force to be reckoned with, everyone told you that. When Charles and Eric first recruited you to teach with them in New York – you thought it was a joke, a cruel one at that. Living paycheck to paycheck in a hole in the wall Hell’s Kitchen apartment, dealing with constantly screaming and fighting from your neighbors, it wasn’t where you wanted to be. You were a survivor, you could adapt to anything, but after what you had experienced, you needed a fresh start. Working at a local diner, making shit for tips wasn’t ideal, but it was enough to help you save to leave. Where would you go prior to this? You had no idea, but someplace that experiences winter – you always loved the snow. But alas, that dreary November day a few years ago changed everything; It changed you. Meeting Logan on your first day told you everything you needed to know about him – he refuses to get close to anyone, you wanted to break that.

It's been three years since you first met Logan, two since you found yourself thinking he was cute, a year since you felt yourself falling for him, and six months since you started the cat and mouse chase. At first with how standoffish Logan was to you, you started to resent him. A year it took before that all fell to the wayside; Your feelings had shifted when you found him outside one night, crying as he smoked his cigar. Of course, your mutation left you able to turn invisible, able to watch him, without him knowing you were there. Through the heavy rain your smell was masked, he couldn’t tell you were there. But it made you feel closer to him; He wasn’t some robot who didn’t have emotions. He felt them too strong, which is why when he started to slip back into his mind, he pulled away. Being over 200 years old meant he saw some shit, lost people he loved, it took a toll on him after a while. That day forward you stopped keeping your distance, but instead made the effort to be near him, to show him you weren’t going anywhere.

Slowly you noticed how Logan started to open up to you, telling you stories of when he was young, his first mission with the X-Men. You got to learn a lot about The Wolverine, and come to find out he wasn’t a hard ass – he was sincere, doting, downright admirable. What he dealt with in his years fucked him up horribly to where he didn’t trust people easily – but it didn’t make him less. He always pushed forward and strove for success, to survive. He wouldn’t classify himself as a hero, but he was to you, and he deserved to know. Logan found himself trusting you easily after a year, his lonely nights stuck in his own head turned into game nights with you, strolls through the garden, getting a drink at the bar downtown. He could still be himself, but not have to carry the baggage by himself all the time. Falling hopelessly in love with him was inevitable, but also impossible. Nothing more could happen between the two of you and you knew that – but there was still a flicker of hope in your mind that wouldn’t quiet down. Especially with how flirty Logan had become with you.

 Usually, he was like this with Jean and Storm, taking it up a notch with them so he could have the last retort. To say he wasn’t a ladies’ man was a lie, he could pull anyone he wanted to. To Logan it was a game, seeing how flustered he could make him teammates – and he loved to win. With you it was different – it wasn’t low growls and light touching on your arms, no, it was more. At first to started off to be resting his chin on your shoulder, letting his breath stroke the column of your neck. Slowly it moved out to touches; Holding your waist from behind, rubbing his large hands over your lower stomach, slipping his hands under your shirt to caress your hip. Over the last few weeks though, he upgraded to holding your face, running his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, stealing forehead and cheek kisses before heading out. Rogue and Kitty that you two were dating, even Bobby got in on it – but when you stated you weren’t everyone looked at you like you had six heads.

“No Logan, I have not.” Hank let his eyes pan to where you were hiding as Logan turned away for a moment, giving you a small wink as he played along. After all, this was his idea – well, his and Xavier’s. You had overheard a conversation about how Logan’s cigar smell had been wafting into their classroom’s lately – distracting everyone as Logan taught. Charles had the bright idea for you to nab them and hold them hostage, until Logan learned his lesson. You on the other hand, were far too gone to do that. Instead you decided to take the cigars, but make a game out of it. Little post it notes with clues on where you were hiding, you stored them all over his bedroom and classroom, thanks to Scott. Ever since Jean told you just how primal Logan could get, how good of a tracker he was, you wanted to test it out for yourself. What better way than take the one thing he cannot live without? “What happened this time?”

Logan huffed as he ran both of his hands down his face, coming dangerously close to propping his hip against your body. You had to shuffle slightly as he leaned into the wall, letting his head bounce off the wood a few good times. “Little shit stole my box of cigars.” He looked exhausted, frustrated, and downright sexy. Seeing how lost and irritable he was without them made you smirk, causing you to bite your lip harder to suppress a whimper. You noticed how Logan’s ear perked up as you gulped, his head turning softly. Hank noticed this almost immediately and replied with a whooping laugh.  “Ha!” You sighed inaudibly as you silently thanked Hank, knowing he used his booming voice to mask your sounds. Holding one of his hands up to Logan, he snickered as he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry that was cruel of me. What I meant to say is, that’s funny.” Hank let out a small chortle at Logan’s distain, being met with a flash of a middle finger, and claw too.  “Thanks, asshole,” Logan huffed as he pushed himself off of the wall, running his hand through his hair.

You watched him intently, thanking whoever was listening for making you have the power of invisibility. Being able to listen to everything going down, while Logan has no idea you’re here, made you feel powerful. You heard talks about how your power could be useful, but ultimately not threatening; Now, you’d beg to differ. Though you grew tiresome of the chase, being a fly on the wall versus a real player. It was fun the first two hours this started, but encroaching on hour six – the school clearing out and the sun almost set on the horizon, you grew slightly bored. “Have you tried the library? She likes to hide there.” Hank let out without hesitancy, making your eyes grow wide. It was like an aha moment for you, choosing the most likely place for last. Earlier it was too crowded, people would know you were there the second Logan came looking for you. But now with the young mutants either outside or in the city due to the upcoming weekend, you knew it would be vacant.

“I know her all too well, Hank. That’s the first place I looked.” Hearing Logan say that made your heart flutter, made you feel special that he knew you so well. A strong sigh left your lips as Hank coughed, dreamily staring at Logan as you started to walk backwards. Losing your invisibility for a moment, you stood a few feet behind Logan, walking towards the grand staircase that took you to the library. Waving at Hank, you motioned for it as you smirked, causing Hank to laugh. “You sure?” He asked, nodding behind Logan. As you stood closer to the staircase, you noticed how Logan was sniffing the air – his body growing tense as he spun around. It’s when he laid his eyes upon you that you knew he was fed up. It wasn’t the primal growl and heavy breathing that got to you, but the way his hazel eyes went from green to black in a split section, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Oh shit,” was all you managed to let out as you turned invisible again, running up the stairs.

Everything was a blur to you, running as fast as your body could take you. Three flights to get where you needed to go seemed like forever, when you were being chased by The Wolverine. He had super human speed, a great nose for sniffing things out, he was at the advantage whilst you were at a disadvantage. Even with scent masking, now that you started to sweat it would make you more obvious, especially when the library was empty. Huffing and puffing as you managed two steps at a time, you refused to look back. But you could hear the stomps of Logan’s boots, clearly taking three steps to match you. Silently you prayed to whoever was listening, to get you to the library safe and sound before Logan got you. The last thing you wanted was for him to pin you to the stairs so everyone could see, that was too on the nose.

Reaching the top step of the library, you managed to sway your way through the wooden chairs and tables, giggling to yourself as you were halfway across the room. Due to the grand nature of the library, especially being two floors, it gave you so many good hiding spots. A circular room to see everything, yet hide in plain sight. As you made it over to the spiral staircase for the second level, you had noticed Logan standing at the entrance of the library, huffing and puffing. It made you snort, seeing how riled up he was. You had to admit, it was sexy to see how pissed off he was, causing a fresh wave of your arousal to coat your panties. Logan seemed to have taken note as he sniffed the air, his eyes cutting across the room straight to yours. “Come on out princess,” he growled, flexing his hands at his side. Slowly you crept up the metal staircase for the second level, taking one step at a time to not elicit any sounds. You let your breathing relax, slowing your heart rate as you kept calm, not needing to give yourself away. But Logan could sense you, eyeing the staircase with every move you made. “I got you now.”

A devilish grin fought to claim his mouth as he pounced over the tables, running on all fours as he landed right at the bottom of the staircase. You managed to get all the way up and around, leaving to the right. Multiple aisles of books covered upstairs, as well as the walls, each window let in the dusk light – showing dust particles roaming the air. Your tell-tale shimmer of invisibility was caught in the light a few times, but Logan was too lost to notice. Finding your perfect hiding spot away from prying eyes, you slotted yourself against the endcap of Psychology of Mutants, knowing no one reads these. You could feel the stagnant beating of your heart at times, wondering if it was due to fear or the thrill of the chase. Maybe it was the aspect of it being bittersweet as well; A years long chase with Logan finally reaching its peak. You knew there would never be going back from this, and that was okay. Stealing his cigars wasn’t the endgame, it was only the beginning.

“You can’t hide forever you know,” Logan snarled as he reached the top of the landing, huffing as he eyed every shelf. You could see him, nor did you want to, hoping to God he chose to head left instead of right. Alas you were sorely mistaken as his heavy steps started to echo right, causing you to curse under your breath. SNIKT, you heard the metallic sound echoing through the room, but also your mind, causing you to whimper. Logan had unsheathed his claws, holding them out. The idea of him using the claws on you, pinning you down with them, holding them against your neck made your body run hot, your arousal heightening as the thoughts ran rampant through your mind. “I will catch you.” It was not a threat but a fact, Logan was not kidding anymore. The animal inside of him was taking over, leaving the Logan you knew behind. This was all caused because you pushed him to the point of no return, and you fucking loved it. The reverberation of his claws against the wooden shelves made you shudder, knowing how close he was getting now.

Biting down hard on your lip, you placed your hand over your mouth, trying to regain control of your breathing. Being right across from the last window on the right didn’t do you any good, especially with the beam of light falling through. If you moved even a millimeter, you were going to be made. It’s then when you opened your eyes to pan to your left that you saw his shadow encroaching on you, his stance wide as his claws were pointed at the ground. Each gruff huff he let out made your eyes roll back, finding it harder and harder to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t look away from him either, you needed to watch him; How the sweat beaded at his hairline, how his little tufts of hair were wild from pulling at them, how his snarl got more animalistic the longer he tried to look for you. “Where did you go?” You couldn’t describe how Logan sounded in that moment; Primal and animalistic do not even begin to crest.

You focused too much on his tone, completely forgetting your watchful eye on him. When you glanced back after trying to calm yourself, you noticed the 6’2 Wolverine was no longer walking his way towards the aisles but vanished into thin air. Not knowing where he was, made your heart rate skyrocket – panic ensuing all over your body. Goosebumps arose across your skin as you pondered where he could be, afraid to move in case he was lurking close to you. Maybe he went off to the left instead, leaving you by yourself to escape. It would make sense, considering how you heard the creaking of the floorboards on the opposite side now. Letting out a concealed breath, you slowly moved away from the end cap of the shelf, leaving your back exposed. You knew it was a mistake when the hot, stifling air of the closed space became ice cold, a shiver falling down your spine. The sun shifted away in that moment, blanketing the area in darkness, complete with only a sliver of light, not even to cast shadows. The second your back was exposed; All hell broke loose.

Two strong hands grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you back into a solid form. The yelp you let out was loud enough to echo, but not loud enough to raise suspicion. The strain on your powers had gotten to be too much, slowly slipping back into being visible. You huffed out as your back connected with his chest, your hands finding purchase on his muscular forearms. “There you are little mouse.” He snickered in your ear, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck. Logan deeply inhaled at the vein, his teeth barring to nip at your exposed shoulder. It felt good to have his mouth on you, to have him seemingly obsessed with your scent. After all, it is what gave you away. Whimpering out, you dug your nails into Logan’s arm, feeling the reverberation of his snarl through your body. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move – you were a lost cause. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Logan was mocking you at this point, purposely being a little shit to mimic how you have been with him. When it came to his cigars, he wasn’t fucking around. But when he knew it was you who took them, well he wasn’t going to let you live this down. Logan moved from behind you, but kept his hands grasping your flesh. Moving to the side, he pressed your back against the end cap again, bringing you back to your original position. His right hand remained on your hip as his left grasped your neck, pressing against your pulse point, feeling the thrum of blood on your veins. The edges of your vision began to go fuzzy due to the restricted blood flow, but you didn’t care. Logan was putting you right in your place, and you were obeying so well for him. “I believe you have something of mine,” he murmured; His prominent nose pressing harshly against your cheek. The warmth of his breath on your skin, mixed with the cold drag of his claws against your skin made you shiver, loving how it felt too much. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed out, clearly laced with thrill.

Logan didn’t take too kindly to you playing dumb, the tick in his jaw spoke measures. His grip on your neck was heavier than before, using his full weight to restrict your blood flow quicker, your vision developing black dots. “Oh, you don’t?” The challenged in his voice said all you needed to know – he was fucking desperate. There was no hiding it now, he needed you – not his cigars, but you. Gulping down against his large hand, you felt the press of his claws against the back of your neck, pushing through the wood of the bookshelf to lock you in place. He would never intentionally draw blood, or hurt you, but he knew this was your deepest fantasy, all thanks to Jean relaying it. His lips were inches from your ear as he chuckled darkly, groaning out against the flesh. “Do I need to jog your memory?” You shouldn’t have been as turned on by that as you were. Your knees buckled slightly as you almost fell, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Logan took advantage of your eyes being closed to pull his hand away from your hip. The loss of touch made you whine, but quickly you were quieted by his roughened tugs. Grabbing at the edge of your tank top, Logan ran his claws through the fabric to create slits, ripping them open just as easily. Looking down at your jeans, he could see the bulge in your pocket – where you had hidden a few of his cigars. A huff of relief fell from his parted lips as she cut your pocket open, letting them fall right into his hand. He mimicked your hiding and shoved them into his own pocket, moving on to the next. The cool breeze against your exposed skin made you quickly heat up; Logan using his claws on you made you lose your fucking mind. He repeated his efforts with your other side, making matching holes in his jeans and shirt, not caring anymore.

It was as the last few cigars rolled out of your pocket that Logan pulled back, his heavy body heat no longer suffocating you. The contact was missed, causing you to pout slightly. “Boo hoo hoo,” Logan mocked as he watched you, walking backwards to push his back against the window. The sill right below it was begging him to sit, so he took advantage of it. Reaching into his left pocket, Logan pulled out his Zippo lighter – flicking it against his pants to ignite the flame. It was intoxicating watching him, how effortlessly fluid his motions were. Biting your cheek, you watched him intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled out the precut cigar from his pocket and pushed it between his lips, favoring his left side for it to rest between his teeth. Lighting the end until the cherry burned bright, he took a few quick puffs, blowing the smoke out in a cloud around him.

Your eyes could not pull away from him even if you tried, it was nearly impossible. The way he moved was like silk through the wind, so effortless and elegant; He knew he was hot like this. Taking another quick drag, Logan let the smoke fall from his lips as he tucked the cigar back in between his teeth, putting away his lighter. Reaching forward with his claws still extended, he hooked two of the blades into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you forward. There was about a person’s space between the bookshelf and the window, making it easy for him to grab at you. Of course, your body obeyed his silent command, tripping slightly as you tried to regain your footing. Placing both of your hands on his thick, warm thighs, you licked your lips. The smoke being released from both the cigar and his mouth captured your attention, making it difficult to focus on what he was saying. The way his motions flowed were so smooth, it was impossible to say anything else to him.

Taking a rather large drag of his cigar, he puffed his cheeks out a bit to hold it all in. It took you by surprise, why he was holding it all in his mouth. Retracting his claws on his right hand, Logan grabbed at your jaw like a man possessed, pushing his meaty fingertips into your flesh. The slight ache of his possessiveness made your mouth part, a pained look on your face that you were lost in. Logan got close to you, his lips only mere inches away from your mouth as you whimpered. With your lips parted, Logan mimicked your motions as he breathed out. The soft, heady tendrils of smoke wafted from his mouth into yours, causing you to let them stir. Tobacco mixed with the sweetness of the wrap caused your eyes to dilate, boring into Logan with pure unadulterated lust. There was no mistaking it as he shotgunned his cigar with you, his smirk prevalent. “That’s my good girl.” He crooned, taking in your big eyes, the heat of your skin – basking in your glory.

You blew the smoke right back at Logan while he chuckled, licking his lips to wet them as he took another puff. There was something so intoxicating about how you reacted, it was like watching a painting come to life. From the first day he met you, he knew you were something else – he had to challenge you. Almost four years later and you’re still trying to get with him, he admired it. Finally, the silent love he had for you could be shown, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for you. You made him work to catch you, now you had to work to get what you wanted. “Get on your knees.” The command fell off of Logan’s lips so naturally you almost didn’t catch it at first. Your eyes glossy as you watched him, your brain not keeping up. Narrowing his eyes at you, he cocked his brow as he laid the cigar to the side, watching to see your reaction. “I’m sorry?” You questioned without realizing, your face slack with lust.

Reaching forward towards you, Logan grabbed your neck once more, this time yanking you so close to his face that you felt his breath waft over your features. “Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.” There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice as he stated his command, letting his face go rigid to show he was getting pissed off. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” You wanted to, every fiber of your being wanted to disobey him, make him angry so he was rough with you – at the same time you didn’t want to make him mad, not yet anyway. Nodding to him against his hand, you slipped down to your knees easily with a moan, pressing out your wet bottom lip as you gazed up at him.

Logan rolled his eyes as he grabbed the cigar again, pressing it against your lips. It’s when you take a drag of it that he pulls out, putting it in his own mouth once more. With his hand now free from holding his cigar, he quickly flicked open his belt buckle, undoing the top button on his jeans as you took the silent command to pull his zipper down. His erection was stiff against his jeans and left nothing to the imagination. He was big, he was hot, and he was fucking turned on. Watching you with a lustful glow in his eyes, Logan groaned as he watched you, never letting you have the last word: “You may have started the game princess, but I am going to finish it.”

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @mami-veracruz @salemslostwitch @karencaribou @princesstarble @dirtylittlefairytales @hbwrelic @mosscrissfemmefatale @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones @silversprings-mp3 @lokidovahkiin

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 crusty first kiss rookanis enjoy 🪶

By the time they come out of the Diamond and into the marketplace, even the crystal peddler is closing up.

"Mierda."

"What?" Rook comes to a halt next to him. Little less than a week ago, he would have stepped away from just how close she stands to him.

"I meant to buy groceries. We're out of some spices."

Rook is quiet, like she's working up courage to speak her mind. Strange.

"I mean.. I've got groceries at home, if you still got time."

"How would you know the contents of the cooking rack?" Lucanis asks, despite motioning for her to lead the way. "I've not seen you use it once."

"Because someone always hogs the stove." She playfully knocks her shoulder into his arm. "No, I meant in my pad. It's just- well, up the roofs, but down the road. You get it."

She takes his hand and guides him down the road, up the trellis, over beams and through strategically broken windows.

"It's probably smelly in here," she says as she pulls out a keyring from under her cloak and opens a doorlock hidden behind an overgrown trellis. "Haven't been here in.. oh, over half a year."

"Hit the Antaam and hauled out of Treviso."

"For all the good that did, yeah. Oh, dear, sorry about that!"

Smells like stale air and rotten onions. Spite makes gagging sounds next to him as they both thread themselves through the open frame.

"Kitchenette's over there, you can just pick up whatever you like - let me open another window." She says over there as though her room wasn't so small it was already crowded with two short Crows and a demon.

A grunt, as she breaks open another of her windows. "Curse this forsaken rookery."

Sweet. Rook lives in a rookery.

"I'm sure her name hasn't been Rook her entire life, Spite. Or that she lived in a rookery all her life. How would a babe even get up here?"

If Lucanis had been told a year ago that he would comfortably talk to a demon inside him out loud while his dear is well within earshot, he would have fallen off a beam cackling.

Rook laughs. "It is a little funny, he's not wrong." Smart girl.

"Varric's chosen Rook for the chess piece, though. Says I think in straight lines. Can't imagine why."

"What's wrong with your own name?" Instead of going through her cabinets, he watches her light what seems like enough candles to burn down half of Treviso as she weaves a path through the clutter on the ground. Messy girl.

"He has this old friend of his, from where he comes from, who he'd given it as a nickname. Also an elf. Shorter than both of us, still, apparently. But she was Daisy first, I guess."

"I'm taller than you are."

"And I heard what Teia said to you about me. How you found the one Crow shorter than yourself." No bite or judgement, none at all. He's said worse to Davrin on a good day.

There's a spell of quiet, as he turns to actually take inventory of her reserves and she collects things she wants at the Lighthouse off the floor into an enormous backpack. Clothes, mostly, from the sound of it.

At least, quiet except for Spite logging every individual smell he registers. Every herb, every spice, the old must of damp fabric on wood planks, garlic so rotten the cloves have turned liquid inside. Lucanis' own cologne and Rook's strange mixture of cocoa and wet soil, though he dismisses those as Known and therefore uninteresting.

"Your kitchen is well-stocked, Rook." When she leans against the side of her tall cupboard, her plumed jacket hangs haphazardly over the doorknob behind her. By the door, her overstuffed backpack and a strapped milk crate filled with shoes.

"Don't sound so surprised. I remind you my shit-frys were at least edible, as opposed to whatever Harding does to the poor produce."

"That you call them shit-frys makes me all the more concerned." His sigh is playful, and she knows it. She hands off a basket to him, to collect the kitchenette's loot in.

She moves her hair over her bare shoulder, watches him collect containers of dried herbs, pink salt and ground garlic, syrups, jams. Some jerky, preserved damson.

"I don't actually put shit in it, you know." Through the sleeve of his shirt, she pinches at his arm.

"Do I know that?" She plays at offense when she catches his glance.

"Shit-fry's said faster than random assortment of fried vegetables. If I had grains, I'd call it Crow Feed."

It hits him like a blind bird hits a tall window, the domesticity of what they're doing here.

The achingly familiar weight of her skin on his. The unconditional trust as she lets him raid her kitchen. The fact that, when he'd asked to touch her back just that morning, to rub the visible tension from the muscles along her spine, she'd brushed her hair over her chest and turned away from him.You don't have to ask, Lucanis. You never have to ask.

The way that, even though he holds himself still as marble, his muscles still soften to accomodate for her touch.

Her forehead rests square against his triceps. Fingers curl in the fabric of his waistcoat, the other hand covering the edge of the countertop with the familiar ease of having suffered many injuries at its points.

Lucanis doesn't dare move. The spell of the moment would be broken faster than a splinter takes to skin. Spite runs across all four walls and the ceiling like a rabid cat.

"Never thought I'd see this place again," she admits, quietly. "Funny. I always hated it here. That I could never dream to live anywhere better. That this rancid, abandoned nest covered in birdshit was all my life would ever amount to."

The fingers in the fabric of his waistcoat pat gently against his small back as she collects herself with a deep, steadying breath.

"If you miss it that much," Lucanis starts, slowly. He holds himself so taut he can feel her brows pull together, even through his shirt. "You can always come back. A hideout from the hideout."

He moves to meet her gaze when he can feel her move to look up at him.

"Are you coming, too?"

"If you lead, I will follow."

Spite hurls curses at him in languages Lucanis never heard in his life, for reasons he isn't privy to, but it doesn't matter.

Not with the way Rook looks at him, right now.

"I really want to kiss you, Lucanis," she whispers. Her eyes flick up at his, down at his mouth.

"So do I." Spite chokes on the lump Lucanis tries to swallow out of his throat.

"Oh, good."

And then she leans up and does.

It's short, doesn't even last a heartbeat, and somehow it's both the smallest and the biggest thing that ever happened to him.

Her hand settles, surprisingly warm, on his low back. Even Spite is quiet, crouching in the sink with eyes wide as saucers. Rook's palm is still shielding him from the countertop corner.

People kiss like that all the time. Good-morning, good-night, I'm-still-too-sleepy-to-speak, I-just-felt-like-kissing.

It means nothing, and it means everything.

She comes back up for another.

YES. Again. More!

And another.

Her lips are parted now, wrap warm and soft around his.

Or his around hers.

Lucanis isn't sure.

The noise out of her throat, from balancing on her bad knee, rings loud as a chantry bell to him.

He's still holding on to the sweet potato.

Drops it to steady her, hand near her elbow. The sound turns curious, but she leans into the touch. There's renewed strength behind her lips now.

"Maker provide me," Rook huffs when she comes back down. She abandons the countertop corner, her nails slide onto his welt pocket.

When he looks at her lips, somehow there's more glitter on them than before.

"I could get lost in your puppy eyes for the rest of all time."

Lucanis has neither breath nor words.

So he ducks his face down to hers again.

🪶

this is spite

ALSO I PUT MY THESIS INTO THE HANDS OF MY COORDINATOR TODAY IM FINALLY FREE WHEEEEEEEEEE

also idk what first kisses w someone you actually care about are like dont come for me the reason I write like a wattpad preteen is bc when it comes to intimacy i AM the wattpad preteen

@lanafofana what we talked about is coming i promise <3

[~rina]

[cottonlemonade]

Long Distance Relationship

word count: 970 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: University AU!Kageyama x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

request: hi! can i get a 32 and a 33 for lunch and then study with kageyama? thank you i'm so excited! xx || fluffy, 2.16am LDR with boyfriend Kageyama

You stretched and heard a pop that you didn’t know if it came from your neck or the rickety old desk chair. It was late, a quick phone check told you it was 2 in the morning. A wide yawn spread over your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, then blinked a few times to get your vision back into focus. You had stopped comprehending any of the sentences in front of you hours ago but hoped that through sheer willpower and the mere fact that you had the decency to pretend to study, it would all work out in the end. Your eyes fell onto your lock screen, lit up briefly by some spam mail. It showed a picture of you and your boyfriend Tobio with your heads stuck together, each holding a small carton of milk while squinting into the sun. It was one of your favorites because of the way he scrunched his nose. When you were accepted to different universities your heart had broken a little but you promised each other you’d be the high school sweethearts that beat the odds. You had nothing to worry about with him. The only other love he’d ever known was volleyball and besides that, you and breathing, Tobio didn’t pay anything much mind. The first year at university worked out great. You usually met right in the middle between Tokyo and Kyoto every other weekend so neither of you had to do the 3-hour train ride each way and could spend a bit more time together. Plus, those tickets were cheaper, meaning you could see each other more often. Your heart began to ache when you thought of your last get-together and how you didn’t want to let him go at the station, how he almost missed his train because he couldn’t stop kissing you, and how you both held back your tears until the other was out of sight. Because in your second year, the workload became greater and meeting became more difficult, you hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. However, the little countdown of days right next to the time, now in the single digits, gave you a little hope. Your roommate snored softly and turned around in her bed. You checked the lamp again to make sure it wasn’t pointed directly at her.

A rush went through your body when your phone buzzed and you picked up immediately.

“Hey you, why are you still up?”, you said quietly.

“I- Hi.”

“Hi.”, you grinned. Your fatigue was completely wiped away. It was so nice to hear his voice and you were barely able to contain your excitement.

“I was wondering how your day went.”

“At 2 am?”

“… yes.”

“Well, it’s much better now thank you, how about you? You sound out of breath. Were you jogging? At this time of night? That’s dangerous, baby, please get back as soon as possible.”

“I’m still quite a bit away but I’ll let you know when I’m home.”, he muttered and his tone made you smile.

You knew exactly what he looked like right now - hand in his pocket, probably looking at the tip of his shoe drawing random patterns on the ground.

“I miss you.”, you said into the silence that followed.

“I miss you, too.”

“But hey, only”, you briefly lifted your phone away from your ear to check, “9 more days until we see each other again, right?”

“Yeah uhm… about that…”

“You’re not gonna make it?”, you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“No no, it’s not that. Uhm, which was your dorm room again?”

“Second floor, third from the left, why?” Your heart did a tentative little bounce.

Something that sounded very much like a pebble on glass tapped against your window. You stood up and almost tripped trying to see out into the night. There, taking a few steps back so he would be seen in the cone of light from the campus lantern stood your boyfriend, wearing his favorite sweats and the hoodie you had given him for your last anniversary. You clasped a hand over your mouth to not squeak too loudly and Tobio heard scrambling on the other end. Half a minute later the lights in the foyer went on, then the front door opened and you stood there with only one slipper and a sweater that was inside out. He jogged over to you.

“What are you- how are you- oh my god, you’re here!”

He buried his face in your shoulder when you pulled him in for a long, tight hug.

You collected your second shoe on the way back up to your room and settled into your bed. Tears were welling in your eyes at his familiar smell as you drew him close. Too precious to waste with much else, you combed your fingers through his hair, while Tobio tried his best to be as close to you as humanly possible. He wrapped himself securely around your soft, squishy form. There was little talking involved, cuddling and the occasional gentle kiss were all that mattered. It was cozy and familiar being in each other’s arms like this and you wished the moment would never end. You could have fallen asleep but just as you were happily drifting off with the comforting scent of his shampoo brushing your nose a phone buzzed. Tobio made a low grumbling noise against your neck.

“I have to go.”, he whispered. The clock on your roommate’s nightstand showed 4 am.

“No, stay…”

“I want to. But I can’t…”, he didn’t make any attempts to move, just kept mumbling against you, “I have training in a few hours.”

He looked up at you, sleepy but so so happy. “And we’ll meet again in 9 days, right?”

a/n: request for @haikyuusunsalad

This was the softest prompt ever oh my gosh 🥺🥺 thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it!

[roboticchibitan]

Not a job (I am disabled) but I also have a story. I'm a Tibetan Buddhist and my teacher is a Tibetan refugee and he's been a monk for 48 years. He's 65. He lived alone in a cave for five years. He holds some conservative views about things like marriage (in the sense of arranged marriages often being more successful and therefore better than "love marriages," not in the sense of "same sex marriage bad") and how children should be disciplined. So I was nervous to come out to him as nonbinary.

I visited him a few weeks ago and made a remark about wanting to be a monk in my next life and he said "well you never know what will happen. It could happen in this life." I told him that was true as I've already decided I'll become a monk if something happens to my gf. I then said something along the lines of "I guess technically I'd be a nun... I'm kind of somewhere between a monk and a nun though." And then I was internally like "will he think anything of that? Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

But he responded really positively! He told me about how being trans wasn't a thing in Tibet but now they've had their first trans person transition from being a monk to being a nun and that she's very popular. Then he told me about Indian hijras and asked me some questions. He very excitedly said "you're teaching me so much today" like three times.

He asked me if third genders are legally recognized here for things like official documents and I told him that federally I didn't think so but that our state does. And he told me that India recently recognized third genders legally and that "people should just accept it because it is the reality now."

I haven't heard him use any pronouns for me yet but I know he'll try his best to respect them. English is his third language so I don't really mind if he makes mistakes cuz I sure don't speak more than one language and I still make mistakes when someone I've known my entire life changes their pronouns.

Lots of people have open hearts. The haters are just loud.

I started a new remote job last week, and I'm the only genderqueer person at the company (and the first person who uses neo pronouns that anyone on my team has ever met, apparently).

So far:

Manager carefully wrote down spelling and pronunciation of my pronouns and told everyone on the team to respect them.

Coworker apologized privately for misgendering me (I hadn't told her yet) and said she will practice.

Guy on another team valiantly tried to use my pronouns and ended up saying something like zirzs-zhizz (I DM'd him and thanked him for trying and linked him to a practice site).

Teammate told me he has written out my pronouns and how to use them in a sentence and literally taped it to his monitor so he can practice.

Teammate also referred to me as compañere after I linked to a comic about gender-neutral endings in Spanish (whole team except me + 1 other person speaks Spanish as first language and they held all meetings in Spanish before the two of us started).

I am so stoked that people are actually trying. 💜🤍💚

[lulunothulu]

“Something More”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Content: angst, some swearing, suicidal ideation, sadness, HEA though!!!

I’d like to apologize for being MIA, it’s been a rough few weeks/month. I’m trying to make my comeback so bear with me as I try to get through the asks and drafts I have. Thank you for your patience and enjoy some angst with Jakey boy 💗

You were looking out the window, sighing up at the moonlight when Jake found you. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket and a cup of tea was placed in your hands when he’d walked upstairs to your reading nook.

He watched as you seemingly ignored (or not noticed) his presence and he couldn’t help but smile. It’s been a while since he’d seen you look relaxed. Not since the last mission you were both sent on.

The mission was supposed to be an “in and out” situation. Get the goods, bomb the shelter, and fly out. That’s what Maverick told you both anyway. Though you’d both been dating, you were allowed to fly together. Since no one but Bradley and Natasha knew you were together, you were both able to get away with it.

This mission changed that.

When your jet was shot down, Bradley spilled all the secrets. He told maverick that you’d both been dating, in an attempt to have you both saved at the same time. Jake knew his friend did it to save you both from heartbreak, but also because they would have chosen to save you first—being a woman and all.

Jake didn’t want to think about it.

No, instead he shakes the thoughts out of his head before approaching you with a sly smile. At the creaking of the wood flooring, he watched as your head swung to face him—your hands gripping the mug so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

“I didn’t realize you were standing there,” you said. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope, just checking on my favorite person.” Jake’s eyes raked down your body, stopping at the boot on your foot. “How’s the foot feeling?”

How are you feeling? He wanted to ask.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” you tell him. You flash him a tight smile before turning back to the window. “What’s the real reason you’re creeping around the house for?”

Jake sighs, taking a moment to kneel next to you before he says his next words.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Not really but I’m dealing with it.”

“We can always—”

“Don’t say it.” He knew you knew what he was going to suggest.

He’d suggested therapy, even couple’s therapy if it made you comfortable. But like the first time he’d suggested it, you closed off. He was the same way when Bradley had told him to start going three months ago. Jake didn’t want to go, he wanted to deal with his feelings himself—just like you were now. But once he’d gone, he couldn’t get enough of it. The feeling of relief he felt after the first visit was enough to get him to change his mind about therapy all together.

“Baby,” he started, trying not to sound too eager or nagging. “I think it’ll really help.”

“Jake,” you started. “Do you know why I don’t want to go? I don’t want to go because I know what they’ll say. I know what happened wasn’t my fault but it feels like it is.”

He watches as your face falls a bit before you compose yourself and sniffle. His heart broke to see you so down and wanting to give up. In the two years you’d been together and the five since he’d known you, you were always so strong. You never cried, never complained. You didn’t even cry when you fell off the ladder going into the back of the jet two years ago and twisted the shit out of your ankle.

No, you were headstrong and unmoving. So to see you uncaring and wanting to give up, hurt him more than anything in the world.

Bullets hurt less than this.

“I shouldn’t have let you fly with me,” Jake whispers, looking down at his hands by your thigh. “I should’ve asked Mav to move you with Bradshaw, forced you to stay behind. I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have known what was coming,” you tell him. “No one could’ve known.”

“So then why do you take the blame yourself?” He asks you, head shooting up to look at you. “Why can’t you let me take some of the blame?”

“Because I want you to have that peace of mind that you weren’t at fault!” You exclaim, scaring yourself. “I could’ve done better. I should’ve done better.”

Jake takes your hand, putting the mug on the floor away from him. His green eyes search yours for any hint of the person you once were before that awful mission.

But you were gone.

You were there, but you were gone.

The person he fell in love with was broken, maybe just resting behind that broken shell you put out. Your eyes seemed vacant and your face paler than normal, almost a ghost of who had been. He wouldn’t allow it to over take you, he couldn’t.

“You are so much more than what you think you are.” He watches as your eyes water, brows furrowing in thought and sadness. “Our jet getting shot down was not your fault. If anything, it’s our fault.”

“Jake—”

“No,” he starts. “You’re everything I need and where you need to be. Don’t ever think you’re less than that because of a mistake we both made.”

He watches you intently, almost begging with his eyes for you to take in his words. He wanted a reaction, something to show you’d understood his words and took them into your heart.

“You’re so much more than you think you are,” he continued. His eyes water as he says, “I need you to know you’re something more than what you think you are. I need you to know that what happened falls in both of us and if you think you’re a shitty person, then so am I.”

Jake couldn’t contain the tears now. He cried, wiping his eyes quickly before looking and searching yours for any sort of emotion. He was surprised to find that you’d finally shown an ounce of compassion for him—for yourself. Your hands cradle his face before you press your lips against his, kissing him firmly and deeply with tears falling from your eyes.

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll try to do better. For you.”

Jake hugs you, burying his face into your neck and inhaling deeply.

“Just so you don’t call yourself a shitty person,” you add with a small chuckle.

He pulls away with a soft smile before pecking you in the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake thought you were talking out of your ass to get him to stop crying. But when you asked to join him the next day at his therapy session, he knew you’d meant it. Though he knew it’d take a bit to get you back to how you were before the mission, he was glad you wanted to take the next steps to recover—to heal.

Because he knew you wanted to be more than your failure.

He knew you wanted to get better.

And god, did he pray that you could be. Because he knew you were in there. And he couldn’t wait to see you become something more.

[viennakarma]

i was thinking of the ending where the reader moves on!! i was interested in what luna would think happened bc i thought she would see that lewis is still clearly in love with her mom but her mom obviously moved onto to fernando.

but i am biased to the ending where reader forgives lewis (bc lewis is my main man <3 hehe) so i really appreciate that perspective!! i do feel like even tho reader has forgiven and moved on by the time luna’s a teen, lewis would low key still carry that guilt. he seems emotionally driven for sure (to me) and he was dreading the day luna found out bc she eventually would, in the age of social media

i would love your thoughts on lewis’ perspective as well (either when it happened or when luna asks him about it) bc as someone who went thru something similar (we were never dating but it still hurt lmao) i still cannot wrap my head around the betrayal even tho it was years ago at this point. so seeing lewis still be in love w reader and truly regret his actions heals a part of me even tho this is fiction hahahahaha.

love your writing btw ❤️❤️❤️

ohhhh thank you so much! I also went through something similar (i guess that's why say something feels so raw to read and all over the place with emotions)

so you wanted to know how lewis would carry that guilt after losing the woman of his life? (evil laugh) it sparked me to write a bit, so here it goes: (keep in mind the post wreck my plans headcanons)

((also, written in the format you = reader))

Growing up, Luna had slowly become aware of her father's feelings for her mom. She knew the story, they had fallen out of love, divorced when you were pregnant with Luna. But as she became a pre-teen, and a teen, she started to really pay attention to the way Lewis looked at you. During her school games, Luna was a midfielder in football, she'd notice how Lewis' gaze would linger on you, the longing almost unbearable for a couple of seconds before he was able to scold his expression and look away. When Fernando arrived, wrangling Luna's younger siblings, Lewis would go back to his normal, polite self. When he'd drop Luna off at your house, Luna would notice the way Lewis stared from his car, looking at you and Fernando playing with the children in the backyard, using water balloons under the heat of the summer, how you'd embrace Luna and immediately let her join in the game. Luna started to grow aware of this, and by the age 15, she'd be completely sure that her dad still had feelings for you, and she would know that you had no feelings for him. Because the way Lewis looked at you was the way you looked at Fernando.

Luna decided to dig up, one night. She had a limited and monitored access to the internet ever since she was little, and with the years, she just wasn’t big on internet and social media, rather spending time with her siblings, her friends and family or her many hobbies. But with google, it didn’t take long for her to find a specific video. It was at a press conference, back when her dad was a racing driver, someone asked him what his thoughts were on his ex-wife, Luna’s mom, dating Fernando, a fellow racing driver.

Luna stared at her dad in the video, the dim in his eyes when he said his marriage had ended for unrelated reasons and that he was the only one to blame, since his loyalty as a husband had faltered and he was the one to fail the vows he had made to you. Luna closed her laptop with a slam. She wasn’t dumb. She was fifteen and loved English classes. She knew what he meant with loyalty faltering.

She got upset, she had never thought cheating was the reason for the divorce, not when you and Lewis had told her that they fell out of love. She grew moody for a couple of days, short tempered and rude, you and Fernando had thought it was only teenager moodiness, so you let Luna be. When she confronted you, two days later, she spilled the truth of what she had found out, Fernando, sensing the moment, took Vicenzo and Benny to his family’s place for the weekend, knowing you and Luna had a big conversation coming.

You explained to Luna what had happened, why you were the one to divorce Lewis. But you were kind, always reminding her that her dad had always been a good father, always taking care of Luna and how you and Lewis loved her no matter what. After that talk, Luna got calmer, but she asked you to not go to her father the following week as they had agreed on. Lewis was distraught when you called him to inform that Luna wasn’t going to his house that week and she didn’t wanna go camping as planned anymore. When you told him over the phone that Luna had found out… you could hear him crying.

After giving Luna a week to give her space, Lewis went to your house to find her. They decided to finally go on that camping trip under the condition that he’d answer all of Luna’s questions about what had happened.

She was silent for most of the trip. Once they arrived at the cabin, they sat in the backyard, Lewis lit up a bonfire and Luna and him sat around it, burning marshmallows in the fire.

“Do you regret it?” Luna asked, breaking the silence. Lewis exhaled for a second.

“Every waking moment,” His voice faltered.

“Why, then?” She muttered, looking straight into the fire.

“I don’t know. Back then I had been upset, having had a couple of bad seasons in Formula 1, feeling useless, feeling like I wasn’t able to do the one thing I knew how. I had a couple of drinks, and someone from my past showed up… And I made a mistake that cost me my happiness, my future and the love of my life. Looking back now, all of those were silly reasons for doing what I did. They weighed nothing compared to your mom and our marriage…” His voice was wet with tears and Luna didn’t have the heart to look at his face yet, “Your mom, she even tried to fix things for a few weeks after I confessed. But I could see… I could see the love she had for me dying more and more every single time. When we signed the divorce, she was already pregnant with you. We decided to become friends to co-parent for you.”

After some silence, Luna looked at Lewis, the tears in his face.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Of course,” She reached out, wiping his cheeks of tears. He closed his eyes, a weight leaving his shoulders at the acceptance and she hugged him. Lewis couldn’t help but see you in Luna, in her caring embrace and her forgiveness.

After a few quiet moments, Luna pulled back.

“How… How was life when you two were married? You know, before all this?” Luna asked, “Mom never talks about it.”

“Why do you wanna know, baby? It’ll only hurt you…”

“Because I have no idea how it was.”

So he told Luna about random things of those few years you were married. He told her how you’d draw and leave charcoal stains everywhere, and how upset he’d be, Luna would tell him you rarely ever use charcoal nowadays, but every few weeks Fernando buys you new colors of paint and asks you to paint him something. Luna told Lewis how all of Fernando’s offices are full of colorful paints you made him.

Everything Lewis told her, Luna would counter with how things were nowadays. And each time it hurt his heart a little. Fernando didn’t make you travel around the world anymore, Fernando helped you take care of the garden, supporting you most recent hobbies, Fernando who gifted you with a little rescue kitten, a scruffy little thing you had always wanted but didn’t get because the kids were too small back in the day.

Lewis started to see how he had failed you many times even when you were married, even before the cheating. How he had been unsupportive of your hobbies, of your career, of your wishes.

He knew he’d spend the rest of his life wishing he could come back to that one fateful night and never get in a hotel room with that woman. He’d know what to do now. He’d know how to go home straight to you, how to cherish you, how to support you.

But it was too late, and you had found someone who did all that without the need to make a mistake to value you for who you are.

note: damn, this really ran away from my hands too phew

[uzumaki-rebellion]

An Alex Cross Joint Mission

Alex Cross & The Heartbreak Brotherhood Part 1

Main Cast: Alex Cross, John Clark, and Terry Richmond, Black Female OC.

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Violence, Murder, Mystery, Thriller, and Drama. Grown Folks Shit.

Summary: Homicide Detective Alex Cross must join forces with former elite Navy SEAL John Clark, and former marine MCMAP instructor Terry Richmond to solve the mystery of a murderous stalker seeking revenge on all three of them. The only connection the men have to each other is a sexy femme fatale they each had an intimate relationship with recently.

Word count: 1.8K

Dedicating this one to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes !

"Six minutes

Six minutes

Six minutes Doug E. Fresh

You're on…"

Doug E. Fresh—"The Show"

Alex Cross bounced around in the front seat of his Ford Explorer in time to the old Hip Hop song blasting on his radio. From the rearview mirror he glimpsed his nine-year-old son Damon and seven-year-old daughter Jannie rolling their eyes at him.

"Y'all don't know nothing about this. Nana Mama used to play this for me when I was little to hype up my day."

Both of his children ignored him as he bobbed his head in time to Doug E. Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew's "The Show". He told a little white lie to them. It was his mother who used to play it for him when he was four years old, before she passed away from a drug overdose. Alex avoided mentioning his mother because it would remind his children of their own mother, who died in a drive-by shooting a couple of years ago. The pain was still tender, yet he wanted to get them excited about going to a church picnic with Nana Mama and other children from the community center he volunteered for.

Alex had other plans for himself that afternoon. He was going to meet a beautiful woman he'd been spending time with for the past six weeks whenever she was in town. A fellow doctorate in psychology, Sasha worked for a global PR firm and traveled a lot for her job. They'd recently become intimate, and the sex was mind-blowing for him. Nothing interested him more than a sexy, intelligent woman with a body for days. He'd been reluctant to take the next step with Sasha, preferring to keep their sporadic dates platonic and fun. Spending time with her without a commitment allowed him to dip his toe back into the dating scene without pressure. She was flexible, not put off by him being a widow with children, and seemed to always know when to give him space for his home life. After four weeks of seeing each other, he crossed over into intimacy easily with her. Sasha was hard to resist. Forty-two days in, he had an itch for her that needed scratching.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Holy Comforter- St. Cyprian Catholic Church. Nana Mama stood by her Blue Honda Accord with her best friend Mrs. Whitman, waiting for them. He turned down the music and watched his children jump out from the back, grateful to be freed from Dad's old-time music. He stepped out of the car for a minute.

"I'll see you guys later…hey, have fun today," he said.

Damon and Jannie nodded, running over to Nana Mama's car. Alex's grandmother had to do some earlier prep work at the church kitchen and he agreed to drop his children off later, before he met up with Sasha at the National Mall.

"Are you sure you and Sasha don't want to hang with us? We'd like to meet your new girlfriend," Nana Mama said.

She gave him a teasing grin, and Mrs. Whitman chuckled.

"No, I'm not ready to bring people around the kids yet," he said.

He leaned over and kissed Nana Mama's cheek. Jumping back into his car, he waved at Damon and Jannie. Changing the music on the radio to something more adult contemporary, he headed for a grown-up picnic on the National Mall. He'd also been a little proactive in reserving a luxury hotel room. The four times they'd had sex had been in hotel suites that she booked while in town. She lived in Maryland when not traveling, and they both stayed cautious with their personal lives interacting just yet. They were still in the getting-to-know-each-other phase with fucking thrown into the equation now. He made plans to wine and dine her later that evening after a long "nap" at the hotel. Nana Mama knew not to wait up for him because he wanted to spend as much time with Sasha as he could before she jetted off to solve some other public figure's national reputation.

Traffic slowed him up, but he didn't fret. It was a sunny day with blue skies and he was on his way to have some adult fun after a stressful week of work. He had some vacation time stacked up, and he wanted to convince Sasha to run off to Vegas for a weekend. Janet Jackson would start her music residency there and he snagged some tickets because Sasha was a huge fan.

He parked his car in the visitor parking lot on Ohio Drive and strolled toward the spot where they would meet, carrying a fancy bottle of wine in a bag. Sasha texted a picture of herself to his phone, blowing him a kiss, letting him know she provided all the goodies for their day. All he had to do was show up. This was part of Sasha's routine on their dates. She'd plan something special or spontaneous and give him the locations to meet her where she'd make him feel like a king. He reciprocated when he could, but Sasha was part of the jet set, often overseas. Most of their time together had to be centered on her schedule of availability.

Alex wandered past other people who had the same plans to picnic in the sun. He looked around for the familiar gorgeous face with the dark mocha skin as soft as a rose petal and those lush lips he so wanted to kiss right then and there. Sasha was so fine that it made him step up his dating game, which had always been above solid before he was even married.

Checking the location pin she sent him, Alex surveyed the surroundings. She had to be late, or moved to a different spot. Quite a few tourists meandered about taking pictures. Perched on a picnic table, a light brown-skinned Black man in expensive maroon jogging fits stared at his smartphone. He glanced at Alex with green eyes and gave the international Black man head nod of "W'sup." Alex returned the nod and moved past him, keeping an eye out for his date.

Another Black man glanced around the area near Alex, checking his phone, too. He eyed Alex and dropped his gaze back to his phone as it dinged a message for him. The man grinned at his phone and faint dimples popped in his cheeks. He had on comfortable tan cargo pants and a tight, long-sleeved white shirt.

Alex sported a light blue sweater with pale blue drawstring casual pants. D.C. weather was always fickle later in the fall. Warm one minute, chilly the next.

Ten minutes went by and Alex started fidgeting while waiting. He finally pulled out his smartphone from his pants pocket and called her number.

"Sasha, I'm at the spot for our picnic. No worries if you're running late. Just wanted to make sure I'm in the right location," he said.

The green-eyed man on the bench stared at Alex when he said Sasha's name out loud. So did the dimpled dude near him. He heard a distant sound of something popping like a firecracker or a whip snapping suddenly. One woman let out a terrifying scream as her companion, another woman, fell face forward onto the ground. Dead.

A sharp, hot pressure radiated in Alex's left shoulder and several more people screamed as a blood stain bloomed like a rose and ruined his good sweater. The shock of being shot hadn't registered in his brain yet as he noticed the dimpled man near him take a grazing on the hip from the same bullet that exited Alex's body. Another shot tried to take the stranger down again, but the dimpled man jumped behind the picnic table as the green-eyed man dove over the side joining him, just missing getting struck himself by another two bullets that went through the picnic table and bench.

Alex dropped to the ground and yelled at other potential victims to run and hide. From his position on the ground, he pressed a hand against his shoulder, using his sweater to help staunch the flow of blood.

"You okay, man?" the dimpled man asked.

"Yeah, clean shot through me…you?"

"I'll live. Bullet that hit you nicked me."

Green eyes used his phone to call 911. The dimpled man looked in the direction of the gunshots.

"That's a roof shot with a high caliber rifle. A good mile away. I'm guessing the museum over there from this angle," dimples said.

Police sirens blared in the distance, so did fire trucks.

No more shots were fired.

The green-eyed man glanced at Alex's wound.

"Keep putting pressure on it," green eyes said. "I think we should stay here until help arrives. Those shots weren't random. The first shot that hit that woman was meant for me. It looked like she got in the way by accident. You were next…and then you. This was a planned hit. Someone aimed all those bullets at us."

"I'm Alex," Alex said, lifting himself to rest against the picnic bench.

He needed to collect information from these men.

"I'm Terry," green eyes said,

"John," the dimpled man added reluctantly.

"Who would want the three of us taken out? We don't even know each other," Alex mumbled to himself.

"I heard you mention a name when you made a phone call before the shots happened…Sasha," John said.

"Yeah, she was my date today," Alex said.

"What she look like?" Terry interjected.

Alex grunted and pulled out his cell phone with his right hand. He swiped a screen to the last text photo he received.

"That's her," Alex said.

Terry's eyes narrowed, and John's lips curled down into a frown. They each pulled out their phones and showed Alex the same photo and text from Sasha.

"What the hell is this?" Alex said.

Cops and paramedics arrived on the scene. Alex left Nana Mama a message on her phone, and then contacted his best friend and partner on the force, John Sampson, who arrived soon after the paramedics lifted him onto the back of their ambulance. Terry stayed around to answer questions, but John had disappeared.

On the ride to the hospital, Alex wracked his brain trying to figure out who his lover Sasha really was. Had she set them all up for murder in one fell swoop? What had he done to warrant her plotting something like that? Or was someone else behind it? John vanished without a trace, and that seemed suspicious, but would he take a chance of getting wounded like that if he were part of the nefarious plot?

Alex closed his eyes.

The first chance he got, he was going to investigate the two men that were marked for death with him.

A.N.:

Giving y'all a taste now. I'll be working on adding updates in spring of 2025, so bookmark it! I have so much to write in other fandoms, lol! I haven't watched the series yet, but Aldis is that dude and I have been waiting to write something for him. So combining him with two other hot men is a treat!

[mr-mercutio]

So here's something that I have learned about patriarchy I want to share: patriarchy is designed to benefit PATRIARCHS. Being the male "head of the family." It's about power and status and hierarchy. To be a patriarch you have to be in charge of others - generally your family. That includes other men! There's no real way to actually escape this, but the closest thing to escaping it for men is to become patriarchs themselves.

My dad was raised in a very strict and traditional catholic household. My opa (his dad) was very much The Head of the Family - even more so because he immigrated to Canada and his father wasn't around, so there was no one above him. He expected obedience from his wife and children, including his two sons, and that was just The Way of Things.

My dad suffered under this quite a lot. And he did the big hippie thing of vowing not to be like his dad - and to his credit, he did try in many ways not to repeat the same mistakes his dad did when being my dad. But the problem is that he still bought into the system of patriarchy. And the only real way to have power in that system is to be a patriarch. So that's what he became. He got a wife and had kids and expected them to defer to him the way he had to defer to his dad. He expected the cycle to continue, but now in his favour.

Problem was that no one else in my immediate family was fine with that. My mom eventually checked out of that. I cut my dad out of my life about 8 years ago. My sisters barely speak to him. We said no, you don't get to control us like that just because you're The Man of the House. You don't get to dictate our lives to us, to tell us how to behave and what's allowed and what isn't, especially as adults. It was chafing enough as kids, but as an adult he still had this expectation that we'd all still defer to him. He would always be right the same was his dad was always right.

And that worldview of his extended to everything outside the family as well - that's why he buys into men's rights nonsense and is anti-choice and thinks the world is too woke. Because he sees that people aren't willing to just prop up the system, and it means he doesn't get the power from it that he was promised. When he was young, it was clear that if he just held out and did what he was told, he would one day be King. And now he doesn't have that and hates it.

I've cut him out of my life because it's been too difficult to stay connected to him. He's hurt me too much and I can't be okay with him anymore. But I'm SAD for him because he's been screwed over by this system just as much as most people I know. Not in the same ways, but still very palpably. But he'll never acknowledge that the problem is the system and not everyone who refuses to follow it. For him, everyone who says no to patriarchy is just wrong and a traitor to how people should live, and he refuses to see that he doesn't benefit from this system because it's a BAD system. It crushed him and remolded him into something to prop itself up, and that's heartbreaking.

The people who support patriarchy are rarely the ones who are actually truly benefiting from it. Yes, men definitely get privilege from the system because it's designed to put men over everyone else. But very few men in the system actually manage to escape the hierarchy of the other men over top of them who make their lives miserable.

If you can, be kind and try to understand and help. It's too late for me and my dad - there's too much bad blood there now and I tried to help for too long without success. I still hope for his sake that he finds a better way to be happy. But there are lots of men out there who would blossom and thrive if they could let go of the idea that patriarchy is going to make them king - and there are more chances than ever that they CAN understand that. Try to give them that chance.

I want there to be fewer MRAs. Do you want that too? Do you want to know what helps us get there, from a feminist perspective?

You may not like my answer: acknowledge that sexism can affect men. Recognize that, although the patriarchy generally privileges men, they are also subject to restrictive gender roles that are harmful to them (shunning all things “feminine,” not showing emotions, being protectors/strong, never admitting being victims of SA/IPV, having to “earn” their manhood, etc.).

Give young men a place other than the right-wing manosphere to be heard about the issues they experience. If these grifters are telling them “only we understand how hard it is to be a man, the left hates you for your gender” and they look to the left and see “men claiming they have ‘problems’ are losers who just hate women, all men are trash,” do you think they’re going to be drawn towards or away from feminism?

Before you leave an angry response: no, this does not mean to center men instead of women in feminism, it just means including them at all. No, it is not “coddling” men to treat them with human dignity, you can and should continue to hold them (and every other gender) responsible for unpacking sexist beliefs. No, this does not mean it is every individual woman’s and feminist’s responsibility to prioritize men’s issues, it just means at the least not shutting them down when they do speak up about sexism. No, it is not “not all men-ing” to point out that “men are trash” sentiments hurt the feminist movement rather than helping it. Ask questions before you make accusations on this post, please. I have been abused by men too, I get it, this isn’t easy to hear.

[positivelyholland]

Can we get a Styles-Swift reader! imagine in honor of Liam Payne?

Steady Hands in the Storm

Pairing: Harry Styles x daughter!reader

Genre: slight angst into fluff

Warnings: kinda a heavy one but it has a happy ending

A/N YALL IM BACK Word Count: 7,243

The house was unusually quiet. The kind of silence that feels heavy, pressing down on every surface. You sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly stirring a spoon through your cup of tea. It had gone cold a while ago, but you hadn’t noticed. Not really. All your focus was on your father, who was sitting across from you.

He was hunched over, elbows on the table, his head in his hands. His curls looked messier than usual, like he hadn’t bothered to tame them today. You’d noticed the little things over the past few days—the way he moved slower, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. Even the way his voice sounded softer, like the energy had drained out of him.

You knew why, of course. The news had hit everyone hard. Liam Payne, your dad’s former bandmate, had passed away unexpectedly. And even though it had been years since One Direction had been a band, those boys were still family to him. Losing Liam felt like losing a part of himself.

“Dad,” you said softly, your voice barely breaking the stillness.

He didn’t look up, but you saw his shoulders tense slightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

You sighed, setting your spoon down with a soft clink. You knew him well enough to understand that he wasn’t trying to shut you out. He just didn’t know how to put what he was feeling into words.

So, you decided to try a different approach.

“Do you remember that time Liam came over for Christmas when I was, like, six?” you said, leaning back in your chair. “He spent the whole day teaching me how to do a handstand in the living room. Mum was furious because we kept knocking over the decorations.”

That got a small huff of a laugh out of your dad, though he still didn’t lift his head.

“I thought she was going to banish him from the house forever,” you added with a grin.

“He kept apologizing every five minutes,” your dad muttered, finally looking up. His green eyes were red-rimmed, and you could tell he hadn’t slept much. “But then he’d just… try again. Said you were getting better every time.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I did get better. All because of him.”

The room fell quiet again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. You could see your dad’s shoulders relax a little, his hands falling to rest on the table.

“He was so good with you,” Harry said after a moment. “Always patient. Always kind.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. “He loved you, Dad. All of you. I think you meant as much to him as he did to you.”

Your dad swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“It just… it doesn’t feel real,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up and… and he’ll call or text, and it’ll all have been some kind of awful dream.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “I know. But he wouldn’t want you to carry this alone. You’ve always told me that grief is lighter when you share it.”

He gave you a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was a start.

“Why are you so wise for a teenager?” he asked, his voice tinged with warmth.

You shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. “I get it from Mum. Obviously.”

That earned you a soft chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like the cloud hanging over the room lifted just a little.

Over the next few days, you made it your mission to help your dad through his grief, even if he didn’t realize it. It was little things at first—making sure he ate, suggesting you watch one of Liam’s favorite movies together, or putting on some music to fill the silence.

But as time went on, you noticed that your dad seemed to be retreating into himself more. He’d spend hours in his studio, not working on anything, just sitting there with his guitar in his lap. You’d find him staring out the window, lost in thought, or holding his phone like he was waiting for a call that would never come.

It broke your heart to see him like this, so you decided to take a more direct approach.

One evening, you found him in the living room, staring at an old photo album. You sat down next to him without a word, leaning against his shoulder as you looked at the pictures. Most of them were from his One Direction days—grainy selfies, group shots from concerts, and candids of the boys goofing around backstage.

“Did you ever think those days would end?” you asked softly.

He shook his head. “Not really. We were so young, so caught up in it all. It felt like it would last forever.”

“But you’re still close,” you pointed out. “You and Louis talk all the time. And Niall sends those ridiculous videos that make you laugh so hard you cry.”

He smiled faintly at that. “Yeah. And Zayn… well, we’ve reconnected a bit over the years. It’s not the same as it was, but there’s still love there.”

You nodded, flipping the page to a picture of Liam holding a microphone, his face lit up with a big, toothy grin. “He’d be proud of you, you know. For everything you’ve done. For the way you’ve been there for everyone else, even when it’s hard for you.”

Your dad’s eyes filled with tears, and he quickly wiped them away, his hand trembling slightly.

“I just… I feel like I should’ve done more,” he admitted. “Checked in more often, made more of an effort to keep in touch. Maybe if I had, things would’ve been different.”

You shook your head firmly. “No, Dad. You can’t think like that. You loved him, and he knew that. Sometimes, life just… happens. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reassurance. “How’d you get so good at this?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Years of listening to your music,” you teased, earning a watery laugh from him.

A few weeks later, your dad had a concert scheduled—a big one, with thousands of fans waiting to see him. You weren’t sure if he was ready to perform, but he insisted that the show must go on.

That night, as you stood backstage, you could feel the nervous energy radiating off him. He kept pacing, running his hands through his hair and mumbling to himself.

“Dad,” you said, stepping in front of him to stop his pacing. “You’ve got this.”

He looked down at you, his green eyes wide and uncertain. “What if I break down in the middle of it? What if I can’t do it?”

“You will,” you said confidently. “Because you’re doing this for him. And because he’d want you to.”

He took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers, your dad turned to you one last time. “Stay close, yeah?”

“Always,” you promised.

The concert started off strong, with your dad pouring his heart into every song. The crowd loved him, cheering and singing along to every word. But it wasn’t until halfway through the set that he finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“This next one…” he began, his voice shaking slightly. “This next one is for someone very special to me. Someone who’s no longer with us, but who will always be a part of my heart.”

The stadium fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“I miss you, mate,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “This one’s for you.”

He started to play, his voice raw with emotion as he sang a song he’d written just for Liam. The lyrics were beautiful, filled with love and pain and memories of the friendship they’d shared. By the time he finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house—including yours.

When he walked off stage, you were there waiting for him, your arms open wide. He pulled you into a tight hug, holding on like you were his lifeline.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. “For everything.”

You smiled against his shoulder, tears streaming down your face. “Always, Dad. Always.”

In that moment, you knew that while the pain of losing Liam would never fully go away, your dad would be okay. Because he wasn’t alone. He had you, and he had the love and memories of a bond that could never be broken.

And that was enough.

The End.

[clairedaring]

brief points from spare me your mercy press con interviews

disclaimer: with VERY limited thai comprehension skills and auto subs, here are the few points i picked up from two torjj interviews (one with director wo and screenwriter lux, one without them). if any kind fans would like to fansub interesting bits from the interview, i'd love to be tagged in (boop @recentadultburnout)

1. The TorJJ interview with Wo and Lux

it took them FIVE years to find the right cast for spare me your mercy. they bought the rights to the novel 5 years ago.

screenwriter lux says that it's less a matter of finding talented actors with capability to play the roles but rather finding the people with the right age, ability, same attitude, same passion to tell the story of euthanasia because it's a sensitive subject matter

director wo compliments saying that he met a lot of talented actors but it's by chance that they were able to get tor and jj who share the same passion in telling the story

tor jokes that it's not easy to get a compliment from director wo like that. tor says that the subject matter is what pulled him into doing this project and that if he's decided to do something, he's fully committed to it.

jj says he feels the same and hope that everyone follows the story because not just his and tor's characters but everyone else is great

tor says he had to do homework for his character too since dr. kan is not like the doctor we usually see at the hospital, but one that specialises in treating terminally ill patients.

jj says that he was nervouse since it's his first time working with screenwriter lux and director wo, first time leading a one31 original. he wants everyone to follow the story since his character wasan will face a lot of problems in the story.

jj says everyone already know his first work with tor is in family we trust and at the time they were still getting to know each other so there's a bit of tuning and adjusting to each other but coming into this work (spare me your mercy), it just flows and is already easy for him when paired up with tor since the chemistry comes easily.

(on the subject of a very experienced supporting cast ) director wo says it's like he didn't have to direct at all because it's really easy to work with these experienced older actors. he doesn't want to spoil anything but the supporting actors are really good.

screenwriter lux says that since the story being told is quite complex, it was established from the beginning that they would cast actors who have the capability of delivering difficult performances, even if they're not main roles

2. The TorJJ only interview

jj says the first challenge is that smym is a series that follows an ongoing investigation so it'll be interesting for viewers to follow what's going on with each timeline and each case

for tor it's the fact that its neo? suspense genre. at first he thought it wouldn't be that difficult but he's grateful to learn a lot from elder doctors for his role. so it's a new experience.

when asked about his character being the one taking care of terminally ill patients, tor says he thinks that's the secondary story because the main story is the suspense (investigation). tor thinks the beats of the suspense genre is hard for his style of acting

but you've done dramas like this before? tor says but he doesn't really encounter suspense (genre) very often. for suspense genre, it's like you know it in your heart but you can't say it at all (i'm guessing he's talking about his character). it's verrrry difficult for me.

jj jokes that it's because tor met him (re: tor got jj as a partner for this drama) that tor's good at it. "i'm just joking joking joking"

from tor perspective, dr. kan is a doctor that we don't get to meet very often, even for tor himself, he's also getting to know this character as he took on the role of dr. kan -> proceeds to talk about how his character doesn't really treat/cure patients but is more like a partner with them until they end their life peacefully

tor did a lot of research for this role, with real palliative doctors but he has to admit that even with his research he does draw a line and he can't interfere to research real terminally ill patients because it will involve with their family as well. so he did as much research as he could but to see things that will disturb the privacy of real families, he can't do that

tor says he can only make assumptions from what he's researched and he accepts criticism if ppl say "you can't understand fully like that", he admits he can't bc he can only do so much research without affecting real life people.

jj says that it's difficult for him as well (in the role of police officer) because when entering crime scene, there's a lot of details. and the timelines for the series is a bit confusing (maybe he's talking about non-linear narrative?). so wasan may not be done with one case yet we're already jumping into another plotline (ah maybe he's talking about there being many different ongoing plot threads) which makes it interesting to follow along

for jj's character, he says it's not difficult like tor's character because his character is a detective who doesn't have things to hide so the approach to their respective characters is not the same

jj says it's not just enough that each characters have their own self-conflicts but there's also conflicts between them as a couple.

who's the one playing with the other's heart? tor says "if you think jj's character or mine is playing with the other's heart then you're WRONG"

so no one is playing with the other's heart? no one is fooling the other? no one is using love to trick the other? tor "no, love isn't something to be played with. BUT… EVERYONE in this story will be playing/tricking on each other. everyone is playing the everyone else's heart in this series"

tor "you will be able to see it from the first episode, that our identities (he's probably referring to their sexualities?????) are already told/being shown"

jj "let's talk about the first scene, when we first met. i think everyone will be able to tell that there's "something" going on" 🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈????? "i hope everyone will follow the series, because if i reveal it then you won't be excited for it"

"oooh you're playing a couple. how do you level up?" jj jokes "are you excited? 😏i'm excited too ☺"

tor "this one i can spoil for you. the chemistry in our relationship will develop naturally and smoothly. very normally, very smoothly. i believe that if the actors could feel [the chemistry] the audience who watch it will be able to feel it as well"

"how complex/confusing is the series?" tor says "oooh do i have to count/quantify that? hmm, if you ask me if it's confusing or not, i'd say that it's not confusing but it's the overlapping events/plot threads that makes it confusing"

is there pressure to work/act in this? (i'm guessing the interviewer is implying abt starring in a bl series 🙄) jj says not much pressure on the acting aspect because they can communicate and it's easy between the two of them because they're already close with each other

are you prepared to face what will come next like the sns discussions or questions about this subject matter "euthanasia?" tor feels like they don't have to prepare for it because even though it is a sensitive subject, the series doesn't point to what's wrong/right idea about euthanasia. if you look more closely, it's more like a series that presents clashing beliefs on the subject matter of "euthanasia" to stimulate this discussion/debate in society. we can't control what ppl say on sns but what we're clear about is that the series does not intend to "teach" anyone anything. it's not like we're forcing ppl to debate this question. if you finish the series and have questions, then we can discuss. if you finish the series and just enjoy it for the investigation/ whodunit story, that's good as well.

jj was happy that the series was filmed in his hometown chiang mai and praises the production team for being very professional, arranging travelling and staying very convenient and comfortable.

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

Watching the episode again and I just cannot get over how well done it all is! One of the things I focused on this time was the way they managed to show us the state of TK and Carlos' relationship. We haven't really checked in with them one on one since episode 5, and I think there's so much here that can give us insight into what has been going on since then:

We see that the box is still in use! Since we're told in this episode that Gabriel died a year and a half ago, that means that about 6 months have passed and Carlos is still using the box! This shows clearly that he's been making serious efforts to be more present. I noticed some people hypothesizing that the fact that his phone was outside of the box was meant to show he was struggling to be fully present, and that's definitely a valid interpretation and maybe it is what they were going for...but to me, it seemed like the phone was outside of the box just because it was being charged. Carlos still left the phone next to the box when he went to bed and I think that indicates some major effort!

However, the presence of the box a whole 6 months later also indicates to me that they ARE still struggling. Things aren't 100% fixed. If they were, I don't think the box would really be necessary anymore.

Carlos wakes up on his day off and the first thing he does is reach for his husband. When he realizes TK isn't there, Carlos goes to find him, expresses his desire to spend the morning of their shared day off sleeping in together, and then kisses his cheek and sits on the couch next to him. TK is not remotely surprised by these behaviors. To me, this shows that there is not constant tension between them. They are loving and affectionate with each other. They look forward to spending time together and make efforts to do so.

When Carlos announces that he wanted them to sleep in on their shared day off, he makes it seem like such a thing is a rarity. Add to that the fact that he worked so late the night before that TK wasn't sure when he got home, and it's clear that they aren't getting to spend nearly as much time together as they'd like. While it doesn't seem like this is some dire situation, it certainly may be contributing to remaining issues that they are having.

The way Carlos talks about their counseling makes it sound like they are still going, which I think is a really good thing because it again shows major effort being made in their relationship!

All these things perfectly set the scene for the conflict in this episode, showing clearly that these two love each other, they're putting real work into their relationship, but they're still struggling. Under those circumstances, when you add in a major crisis and upheaval like the Jonah situation, it's inevitable that things aren't going to go smoothly. However, their love and soulmatism is still shining through, and we know they're going to make it and come out the other side stronger than ever!

[copperhawks]

You're not the first person to make this comparison on this post, but when I wrote this, I hadn't done a re-read of SOTL yet (and the last time I'd read In the Hand of the Goddess was... a LONG time ago, so I couldn't really make a good comparison between these two scenes), but I have now and I've been sort-of thinking this over and have some thoughts on it.

For me, this isn't so much an indication of them being similar so much as it is just an unusually similar narrative beat. A character chooses to disobey an order about not crossing a border during a war in order to go save someone who has been captured and, in so doing, takes out a major antagonist that leads to the end of the war.

But the MOTIVES behind the two actions seem very different to me. Jon goes to save Alanna because he's in love with her and can't bear to lose her. Kel goes to save the refugees because she's responsible for them and takes that extremely seriously. She does CARE about the people, obviously, it's still being done out of love, but she's not doing it because she can't stand to live without them so much as that she's INSANELY duty-driven. She goes up to save Lalasa for similar reasons after being told that a noble's duty to their servants is basically sacrosanct. Kel goes across the border because she believes it's the honorable thing to do. Jon's motives aren't about honor and are, arguably, somewhat more selfish in origin.

So while this is obviously a very similar storyline, I don't find that it's an example of these two characters being similar to each other.

Kel is willing to give up EVERYTHING out of a sense of duty to the people she's responsible for. While Jon is someone who does a LOT of things for his people and spends a lot of his time and energy making life better for them, I can't recall a moment where Jon is ready to give up everything he wants and everything he's worked for just to save his people. Jon actually tells Kel in Squire that he and Thayet work pretty hard to keep themselves OUT of that kind of danger whenever possible, that's the point behind all of the compromises. All of the arranged marriages for his kids are to try to ensure peace through political connections and stop fighting in wars.

This is where they DO differ because Kel feels like someone who, at least at this point in her life, is willing to die to protect her people. But Jon is someone who will do whatever it takes to LIVE for his people for as long as possible. Jon understands that, in his position, it's more beneficial for everybody for him to make compromises in order to stay alive so he can keep making changes that will make people's lives better in the long run. This is a lesson that, while we do see Kel LEARNING it a little during Lady Knight, isn't one that really plays into the final conflict of the book. It's possible that Kel will end up being even more like Jon in this way as she gets older, more willing to stay back herself and trust others to do what needs to be done in her place, but by the end of Lady Knight, that just isn't who she is yet.

And maybe that's what's interesting about the comparison. Kel isn't all that much like Jon YET, and she's certainly not all that much like Jon when HE was 19, but Kel shows signs of being a lot more like Jon as he is during HER series as she gets older and gains more experience. Kel is very righteous, very inclined to just act and get things done, but over the 9 years we get to know her, she has to learn more and more about when to act and when to WAIT. She has to learn when to push and when to bend a little.

As a woman, she's going to be held to different standards than her male counterparts like Raoul or Wyldon, she'll be dealing with different limitations and setbacks than they ever did. And so her approach to leadership will, by necessity, have to be different than theirs was. She does look to them for inspiration, but in execution, I think she'll likely end up far more like Jon. Jon is obviously not a woman himself, but as King he's ALSO held to different higher standards than his compatriots and he was very young when he took the throne and has been very progressive throughout his reign which means he's dealing with certain limitations and setbacks that more conservative people might not.

Kel has strong opinions and firm ideas of what the world SHOULD be like, and that's going to lead her down a similar path of trying to CHANGE things, but she'll be dealing with all of the same limitations that Jon is, which will force her to approach things the way he does. She's going to have to compromise, she's going to have to bend, she's going to have to learn when a fight is worth having, she's going to have to learn to give a little in order to get a little later.

Kel would probably not have crossed the border for just one person. If it had been Neal, for example, and Neal alone, she may not have decided to take that risk. Neal is a trained knight like herself and probably won't thank her for giving up everything to come save him. Kel could probably have been convinced not to cross the border for him, as much as it would've pained her. And Jon I think would not necessarily give up everything to save a few hundred people the way Kel did, even though it would pain him to have to make that choice.

Kel IS like Jon and will likely become even more so as she ages, but crossing the border just isn't one of those places where their similarities are showcased to me.

The funniest thing to me about Kel, and maybe one of the most interesting because of how understated it is, is that Kel becomes a good commander in the end, not by emulating Wyldon who was cold and implacable and insensitive, or by emulating Raoul who mostly only disobeys orders out of principle or because he has an issue with what the order says about his personal relationship with Jon, but by emulating JON.

Kel doesn't even LIKE Jon, she BARELY respects him as a person. He's a good enough ruler that she's willing to fight for him and swear loyalty to him and to at least mostly believe that he wouldn't work with Blayce to make his own killing monsters, but that's as far as it goes for Kel. If he's kind to her, she finds it uncomfortable and almost untrustworthy because she assumes he doesn't care about her and so his kindness and respect towards her must be fake.

But from the outside, as readers, we know just how much Jon fought for Kel. We know how much he does respect her right to be a knight. Jon is the sole reason that Kel DID get the opportunity to prove herself, if he'd capitulated to Wyldon completely, she just wouldn't have ever been allowed to join. Kel doesn't KNOW THAT, obviously, but we do. We know that Jon did everything he could to find a way to convince Wyldon to let Kel become a page. While Wyldon claims later that the reason he chose to let her stay at the end of the probation year was because his better judgment convinced him she'd earned it, I'd be willing to bet that part of that better judgment also included knowing if he couldn't prove to JON that she needed to go, then he'd be in trouble. Kel was training and working in front of plenty of other trainers and teachers who could easily contradict Wyldon's lies if he'd tried it, many of whom are closer to Jon than they are to Wyldon.

Kel's experiences and feelings about that experience are entirely valid, and she doesn't have the knowledge we do about how hard Jon fought for her, so it's not shocking that she's upset with him for a good portion of her series. She never even discovers this truth by the end of her series, even though she does get a lesson from Jon and Thayet (and Raoul to some degree) about how politics and compromises work in order to make changes happen. So her opinion of him by the end is boiled down to the quote from Squire: "good kings weren't always good men." It makes sense for her to think this, but because Kel's knowledge base is so limited (and her worldview so black and white for much of her series), it makes her an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator about this particular issue.

Kel believes that while Jon generally does his duty and keeps the peace, he doesn't actually care all that much about his people as individuals. But in their only meaningful conversation in Squire, Jon is able to point out that he (and Thayet, who is actually equal to Jon in power, something Kel either doesn't know which would be a failure in her education or just tends to ignore so she can focus her ire on Jon) has to make a LOT of compromises in order to get ANYTHING useful done at all. Sometimes, often, it means making deals with people he doesn't like or people he just fundamentally disagrees with, because it's the first step in a multi-step plan to help more people in the long run. He also points out that just throwing his weight and authority around in order to be able to change everything he wants to change immediately regardless of what anyone else thinks about it is a great way to get himself and his family killed. Because even if he had good intentions, that would be tyranny. It does make Kel think a little, but she doesn't tend to like him much still afterwards, her resentment from her page years will always color her opinion of him a little.

However, then she gets to Haven and she's suddenly tossed into a position of leadership over a lot of other people, many of whom disagree with each other or disagree with her or both. And all of the sudden, Kel has to make compromises. She doesn't LIKE the way the sergeants often treat their men, especially the sergeants whose men are convicts, but there's very very little she can do about it without really pissing off those same sergeants and that's not something she can afford to do. There's a moment when Neal starts getting frustrated about the treatment of the convicts and she takes him out to vent to her so he doesn't vent to the sergeants, something that the sergeants would then take out on their men. Kel's reasoning as she does this is that she "preferred to avoid battles with them now so she would have authority with them later if she needed to use it." Later, Kel is talking to Daine and she says "That's all this job is... Trying to please everyone and pleasing no one. And it will only get worse, not better."

Both of these moments showcase Kel choosing to make compromises. She may not like the way the sergeants treat the convicts, but she needs to stay on the sergeants' good sides because she doesn't have enough resources to butt heads with them nor enough authority to just force the issue, and even if she DID, it could cause the sergeants to become troublesome or take out their frustration with her on the men in ways she can't see as well. But staying on the sergeants' good sides might mean letting some of their maltreatment slide if it's not physically harming the convicts. And even setting that aside, she's dealing with nearly 500 refugees eventually, all of which are from different towns in the area and have different needs, not all of which she can accommodate. This requires compromise. Sometimes she can please some of them and not others, but mostly she probably just ends up not pleasing anybody because that's often how compromises WORK.

She never makes the active connection to Jon and his lesson on leadership from Squire while she's in Haven, but that quote up there about how this job (aka being a commander) is all about trying to please everyone and pleasing no one? It sounds a HECK of a lot like "good kings weren't always good men." You can try your best to help others, but often doing the right thing can involve making everyone unhappy. You can't be everybody's friend if you're going to get anything done.

Some of this she might've learned from Raoul's style of command, but Raoul commands a fairly small amount of people (at least in comparison to a King), and so we see him able to be pretty friendly to the people he commands in a way that Jon is perhaps unable to do. And she might believe that she learned some of this from Wyldon, but Wyldon had a tendency to be very unfair and biased due to his raging bigotry and conservative values, as well as the fact that he doesn't actually even LIKE being a training master and that likely impacted the way he treated the pages (he's almost never that kind to the pages, whereas we see him capable of being quite kind with the refugees later, which is where Kel comes to the conclusion that he hadn't enjoyed being a training master).

But Jon makes an entire speech about how he (and Thayet) have been working THEIR ENTIRE REIGN to change laws that help people. He explains how they have to consider the needs of merchants, nobles, farmers, street people, priests/priestesses, and mages. They have to consider not only what these people might need or want, but also what they could do when they feel sufficiently offended and how that could impact not just the royal family or the nobility but the realm as a whole. Jon points out that they HAVE made changes, for the better, and that just because they don't always succeed at everything or because they have to compromise sometimes, doesn't mean they aren't working at making changes or that they don't care about helping people. Not everyone you have power over is going to be your friend, they might not even be someone you like. But if you're going to take on the job of leadership, that's something you have to be willing to accept and work with, which often means making compromises with people whose needs and values are contradictory to your own.

Jon probably knows when he makes the compromise with Wyldon that it will likely impact a lot of people's good opinion of him. Alanna is right there and clearly angry, and we know Thayet doesn't like the decision, either. And it's entirely possible that Jon knows in the moment that Kel herself will put the blame on him because he's the King. But he also knows that if he insists on Kel being allowed to be a page without trying to compromise with Wyldon, Wyldon will quit over it and he'll end up with ten DIFFERENT problems that could cause a lot bigger issues to far more people than just one girl. So he makes the compromise. He sacrifices Alanna and Thayet and even Kel's good opinion of him in order to ensure that Kel gets the opportunity to become a Knight without turning all of his nobles against him which could ultimately lead to a civil war. Is it fair? No, and he knows it. But it's the best option he has in order to get the outcome they all actually want which is just for Kel to have the chance to prove herself.

Kel has to make similar choices once she's finally in a position of leadership of her own. And whether she realizes it or not, without ever even spending more than a few minutes with Jon, she ends up emulating his leadership style more than anybody else's because it WORKS and it works WELL. She'll probably never admit it, she might never even realize it herself, but she's so much more like Jon than any of the other men she sees as role models. And I love that. I love the dramatic irony of that, that the one person Kel only barely respects because of a compromise he made on her behalf that she'll never even know about, is the person Kel ends up most resembling. Jon is the reason she has the opportunity to become the Protector of the Small in the first place, Jon is the person who created that environment that allowed her to nurture those values, and she'll probably never even really be able to acknowledge that, because sometimes that's what being a good leader means.

[pinkpastels113]

romance is not dead (if you keep it just yours)

also on ao3

a/n:

for @mcrololo and @shikariix <33 did i listen to paris by taylor swift and enchanted on repeat the entire time while writing this?? maybe... also thanks for the idea/encouragement to write this based on this tumblr post @pyresrpgear!! hope you like this as well :))

People often forget that you can find romance in the most mundane of things, that love exists in the most simplest of gestures.

Chloe was getting some water at the fountain in the common area of Beca’s music label when one of these moments happened.

“Shoot your shot!”

Chloe turns at the sound of the man’s voice behind her. It belonged to one of Beca’s coworkers and she can just make out him slipping behind the wall of the opening to the common area with a subtle wink before her attention lands on Beca, her wife, walking towards her, her own water bottle in tow.

Chloe grins, as she always does when in the same vicinity as the love of her life. “Fancy meeting you here!”

Beca chuckles, nervously, and lifts a hand to rub it at the nape of her neck as if working up the courage to pop the following question:

“You’re really cute. Wanna go out with me?”

Her dark blue eyes are downcast, just like that time eight years ago when they were both in their twenties in university, high on the serotonin and adrenaline of yet another win with their Bellas, after a group hug, when Beca had also asked her out with the same expression, her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and a hopeful lift to her eyebrows. 

Chloe’s heart leaps in her chest in the exact same way back then, too, now, like she had been waiting forever for that feeling, that confirmation, that Beca liked her back in that all consuming, I-might-be-sick overwhelming way that Chloe had felt towards her best friend ever since she’d joined their silly little acapella group. 

(Even though Chloe considers herself a romantic– she had been reading romance novels ever since middle school, after all– she feels like Beca might just secretly be a bigger one.)

She sets aside her water cup, reaches forward and repeats the gesture with Beca’s, in favor of taking both of Beca’s hands in hers. Beca’s fingers were cold, so she threads them together and squeezes to breathe some warmth into them. 

“Yes. Of course I would love to go out with you.”

Beca’s face lit up, like a dang near Christmas tree, and her lips quirk into a huge relieved smile just like they did when Chloe had first said yes all those years ago as well. (Pft, as if Chloe could say no.) She returns Chloe’s squeeze. 

“Cool beans.”

And it may be cheesy, and corny, and just a tad bit dumb especially since both of their matching wedding rings are digging into their skins, but it still made Chloe’s day. She already knew that nothing would wipe that dopey grin off her face for the next twenty four hours, and she’s completely satisfied with that fact.

When they got home later that day, after dinner and they’re cuddling on the couch with the heater on and a movie playing in the background, Chloe talks about it, mentioning the shoot your shot comment.

“Was he new or something? What was that about?”

Beca snorts, burying her face into the crook of Chloe’s neck where her breath ghosts over Chloe’s collarbones, “Nah. I told him that I was about to ask out the hottie at the fountain and he’s simply encouraging me. He knows that we’re married, Chlo. Just cheering me on like the dork that he is.”

“Like the dork that you are, you mean,” Chloe corrects, pressing a soft kiss to the center of Beca’s forehead. She finds the whole thing incredibly cute, even though it was small and mundane.

Who says romance is dead just because you’re married? It survives even past death, unlike those classic vows for marriage.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 27/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX

CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN

                “I fatti contano più delle parole,” Leandro says, patting his face and Bradley sighs. It’s not the first time he’s had the sentiment thrown his way, and even when he’s been able to throw them back he hasn’t taken any consolation in them.

                Actions speak louder than words indeed.

…            …            …

                “Lieutenant.”

                “Admiral Kerner sir.”

                “Another care package for you.”

                Jake bites back the quip about him making an excellent delivery man. There’s friendly respectfulness, and then there is over-familiarity.

                “Thank you sir. Much appreciated.”

                “No need to thank me Lieutenant, it is definitely worth it to me to do this for Bradley. Uh. Leo.”

                “You can call him Bradley sir, I do know it’s what his name is. I just know him better as Leo.”

                “Alright then. Thank you, I know him as baby goose as well, but calling him that is likely a sure fire way to either make him angry or sad, so maybe best not to test it.”

                “Baby goose sir?”

                “Hmm. He tell you about his father?”

                “Yeah. Right. His father’s callsign was Goose. I get it.”

                “Mmm. Thought for a long time he’d follow in his father’s footsteps, join the Navy.”

                “Until his godfather pulled his papers from USNA,” Jake supplies, because Leo has told him that Admiral Kerner knows all about it, and he’s not beyond going digging and using the resources available to him. He just never thought he’d be having this kind of conversation about a boyfriend with an Admiral. Beyond bizarre on so many levels.

                “Yes. Idiotic move if you ask me. Would have been nice if Tom had been able to talk some sense into either of them…”

                “Leo’s Uncle Tom,” Jake says, hazarding a wild stab in the dark.

                “Yeah. He told you about him huh?”

                “Uh huh…” Jake says, because yes, Leo has talked about his Uncle Tom. Once. Vaguely. He guesses it makes sense that Admiral Kerner knows whoever this Tom is, if he also knows who Bradley’s godfather is. He wonders if he could just ask.

                “Of course, bunch of stubborn idiots the lot of them. Ice has the patience of a saint to put up with the pair of them. I’d have locked them in a room together years ago until one came out victorious or they actually talked… I’d have given Bradley weapons. Stacked the odds in his favor. Although Ice would have likely done the same for Maverick…”

                Ice.

                Ice is Tom?

                Iceman?

                Tom Kazansky?

                Oh shit.

                Wait.

                Maverick? Maverick Mitchell? Where does he fit into the picture?

                He doesn’t let anything show on his face, years of practice at maintaining a benign poker face, calm and unruffled. Inwardly though he’s wondering just how many fucking admirals Leo calls uncle and has them running errands for him.

                Jesus.

                But Mitchell just jumped to the top of his list of suspects of being Leo’s godfather.

…            …            …

                “Holy shit, you’re here,” Jake says, and Bradley knows in that instant that Slider didn’t spoil the surprise.

                “I sure am. And I have a hotel room. Happy for us to not see anything but the four walls, or we can do some sightseeing,” Bradley offers with a wide grin, cap pulled over his face in an attempt to hide it at least a little as people stream around them. He tugs Jake away from the main press of people and can’t stop grinning. It’s been over four months and while they’ve communicated in some way nearly every day the fact he has Jake in front of him in the flesh makes the time apart just melt away.

                “Hotel. Then maybe sightseeing. You came all this way to see me, I need to make it worth your while…”

                “Just seeing you in person makes it worth my while.”

                “God you’re a sap.”

                “Yeah well, I’ve missed you.”

                Then Jake’s kissing him, his hands on either side of Bradley’s face before they’re sliding around his neck and pulling him close and Bradley lets himself be tugged closer. Jake might get a warning about doing this in uniform, but nothing like he would get if it wasn’t Slider who has approved his extended shore leave. Bradley’s isn’t usually one to use and abuse his connections but for this? Yeah, he’ll do it in a heartbeat every single time.

…            …            …

                Jake doesn’t know where to start when faced with Leo, naked and happy in a bed with him, his whole body seems to be fizzing with sheer joy and Jake has to admit it’s contagious. Even though they’ve not seen each other for months he doesn’t feel any sense of awkwardness between them, or that there has been that much time spent apart. It’s nothing like he feared it might be, some of the horror stories he’s heard from others about deployments ruining relationships. He guesses they’re probably still in the honeymoon phase or something. He kisses up one of Leo’s thighs, lets his fingers trail up the other one, knows he might be making the other man ticklish but he likes nothing more than hearing Leo laugh freely, it’s a beautiful sound and it makes him smug when he knows he’s the cause.

                “Was going to stretch myself open, be ready and waiting for you…”

                Jake groans at the images his brain provides, drops little soft kisses up the length of Leo’s cock, doesn’t bother keeping the grin off his face. “Decided you might want the privilege this time.”

                “Yeah, you’re right… want to get my fingers in you. Jesus Leo.”

                It’d both brand new and familiar when he pushes into the tight hot clench of Leo’s body, mouth falling open to suck in more air before he leans up to kiss him. Leo’s riding him, body rocking and flexing above him, allowing Jake to get his hands everywhere. This position is definitely turning into one of Jake’s favorites. Who is he kidding, they’re all his favorite, they just have different pros and cons. He brushes a hand teasingly over Leo’s cock, smirks at the sharp intake of breath and lets his fingers dig into the flesh of Leo’s hips, hard, holds him still while Jake grinds up and he hopes he leaves the bruises that Leo likes.

…            …            …

                They don’t seem to stop touching one another for more than a few minutes. Ordering room service, curling up and watching movies, talking about a whole range of different things, pressed against each other the whole time. They sleep entwined, the large bed completely superfluous, at least when it comes to sleeping. Clothes don’t even make it out of his bag, the robes in the room and Jake’s body heat more than sufficient depending on what they’re doing. He takes a few pictures of him and Jake grinning at the camera, sends them to Vi and Jake’s sisters, ignores the teasing comments he gets back. He knows they’re all happy for them.

                He’s taking a very firm denial approach that they only have two days, but nothing in his power stops the seconds ticking away and as he watches Jake get dressed back into his uniform he feels an irrational grumpiness about life being unfair that he and Jake both have to return to the real world. Jake has insisted that he wants to say goodbye to Bradley here, in the privacy of the hotel room. Jake’s fastening his belt, his eyes haven’t left Bradley though, taking in the litter of marks left over his skin by Jake’s fingers and mouth and he lets himself run his fingers over them, presses into the ones on his hip and smirks when Jake’s eyes go darker. Then Jake’s stalking toward him, pushing him back and straddling him, hands pressing down on Bradley’s chest.

                “Can I get you to do something for me?”

                “Yeah. Of course. What do you want?” Bradley asks.

                “Next time you know we’re going to see each other, and you know in advance… I want you to not jerk off for a coupe of days. Want you to stretch yourself open until your loose and use lots of lube and then put a plug in…”

                “Fuck Jake…”

                “Yeah, want you ready for me and desperate for it… you like the sound of that darling?”

                “You know I do.”

                “Mmm. Think I’m going to let you know exactly what I’ve been thinking about doing with you when I have more time on my hands.”

                Bradley doesn’t think he whimpers, but he wouldn’t put money on it either.

…            …            …

                Two days isn’t long enough but it is still better than nothing and he’s never had anyone go to this much effort other than his family. He knows Leo is talking to his family like he’s part of it, that they have a group chat which Jake isn’t part of, and he’s fine with it. In fact he likes it, that Leo is so well liked by his family, already so involved and entwined.

                “Wow, you look… well rested,” Phoenix says and Jake smirks, because rested is not the word he’d use, but he’s in too good a mood to say something snarky back. “Thought you had a boyfriend Hangman.”

                Jake raises an eyebrow at the insinuation.

                “I do. And he’s doing very well.”

                “Wait… he was here?”

                “Yep,” Jake says, smirking because now she’s annoyed. At least he thinks so, now she simply looks speculative and Jake frowns. “What?”

                “You really like him, huh?”

                “Trace, I’m pretty sure I more than like him. He’s something special.”

                “Well, he must be if he’s putting up with you!”

                He does pull a face at that, but he feels a little icy tendril of worry that maybe what he’s feeling is too much, too fast. That maybe Leo doesn’t feel the same way. He wishes he could just pick up the phone and call his sisters, but he’s going to have to wait. He sends a message and figures out the time difference to organize a time he can talk.

…            …            …

                “So, not that I don’t like talking to you, but why me?” Sandy asks.

                “I need your advice.”

                “Uh. Okay.”

                Jake knows he’s surprised her, because they’re not the closest, however she is the one who had the longest time with their mom before she started declining. He really wishes he could talk to his mom right now, but Sandy is the next best thing, all his other sisters, especially the ones closer to his age, will potentially just tease him.

                “I think I’m in love. Not just in love… I think I love him. Like… forever kind of love him.”

                “Okay.”

                “What do you mean okay?”

                “Uh… what?”

                “Isn’t it, like, too soon?”

                “You think emotions like love have nice tidy timelines? That it’s just this thing which will happen after a set time? Really?”

                “Uh.”

                “Jake… our parents eyes met across a dance floor and mom said she knew he was the one before they’d even exchanged words. I hated Daniel the first time we met, thought he was a brainless jock. And every single time I held each of my kids for the first time I knew I would die for them. So yeah, okay. If you love him, you love him.”

                “But…”

                “But what?”

                “What if he doesn’t…”

                She’s laughing then, long, loud and gasping breaths of laughter and it sounds like she’s struggling to catch her breath, unable to say anything and it continues for far longer than he thinks warrants. What he said wasn’t even funny. This is worse than being teased. He wonders if he should hang up.

                “Oh my god, I needed that. Thank you.”

                “What?”

                “I needed the laugh. Jake. You don’t need to worry about him not feeling the same. He flew to Japan to spend two days with you.”

                “He said he had work here!”

                “Yeah, work that he more than likely organized to align with your shore leave. Your boy is as stupid for you as you are stupid for him. It’s… it’s really sweet actually.”

                “Uh… thanks?”

                “You’re welcome. We like seeing you happy. Let yourself be happy.”

                “Yeah. Okay.”

                “Okay.”

TWENTYEIGHT

[theocddiaries]

*On a GUN private jet* Abe: Hey, I found this little guy here. [shows a chessboard]: Any of you guys want to play to kill time? Shadow: Pass. Sonic: Sure thing. Abe: Nice. I might teach you a few things. [goes to set the pieces] Sonic: Oh, it's okay, I can play; Tails taught me. Shadow: Isn't that wonderful… [grabs Sonic's arm and pulls him close. Whispers]: Let him win. Sonic: What? Shadow: He's a grumpy loser. He mopes, he makes the face, he slams the door, then he said he didn't slam the door. It'll be better for everyone that he wins. Sonic: Shadow, please, stop being stuck on things that happened over fifty years ago. Shadow: Fifty years ago? I’m talking about how he acted last week because some agent’s kid beat him up at the Hungry Hippos game. Sonic: … Okay, I'll lose. [moments later, they've come back and are in GUN HQ] Abe: Thank you for your assistance, Sonic. Sonic: Always a pleasure to help. Abe: I'm glad you're not upset about our chess match from earlier. Nobody likes a sore loser. Sonic: So I've heard. Abe: I've got a kid's guide to chess back in my office. I can give it to you before you leave? Sonic: ...No, I'm good. Abe: You sure? You can color in the little players with your crayons. Rouge [comes in and walks to Shadow]: Hi. What's going on? Shadow: Towers and Sonic played chess. Rouge: And you told him to lose, right? Shadow: Yes, don't worry. Rouge: Good. Momma needs some extra cash this Christmas. Abe: Or you can give it to your fox friend. Maybe he can teach you better the second time. Sonic: … Are you calling my brother stupid? Rouge and Shadow: Damn. Sonic: You know what? Let's play a rematch. Rouge: Shadow. Abe: Okay. Game on. Now, I want you to go first. Now remember, try to open up the middle of the board. I'd have moved that guy two spaces. Rouge: Shadow, please, do something. Shadow: Don't worry, just because Tails taught him doesn't mean he can actually-- Sonic: Checkmate. Shadow: Or maybe he can and we're gonna have to go through one of those weeks.. Abe [blinks]: Huh? What? How'd you do that? Sonic: Want me to bring you the kid's guide so you understand it better? Shadow: Sonic. Sonic: Hey, you told me to let him win the first time, nothing about the other times. Abe [turns to Shadow and Rouge]: You did what? Why tell him to lose to me? Shadow: Because you're like a baby when you don't win. With the kicking and the eyebrows and the angry eating of the sunflower seeds. [Chittering] Abe: That's not true. Rouge: Oh, honey, it is. We're still picking up the shells from the horrendous episode of the Hungry Hungry Hippos. Abe: I don't mind losing to a chess genius. Sonic: Well, I wouldn't say genius. Shadow: True. That was an average move. He's not even as good as I am. Abe: You're not that good in chess. I beat you on our first mission together. Shadow: Did you really? Or did I let you win that one too? Abe: …You didn't let me win. Shadow: Hm. Why would I sacrifice my queen for your pawn, Abraham? Huh? Huh? Abe: I got it. Stop saying that… Rouge: Well, I guess we'll never know! Abe: Or we can find out right now. Rouge: No, it's-- Shadow: Are you sure you want to do this in front of people? Rouge: Shadow-- Abe: Sit down and let's settle this. Shadow: Gladly. Rouge [saddened]: I just wanted a pair of boots… [MOMENTS LATER] [through a phone call] Tails: Hey, Sonic, everything okay? Sonic: Yes, buddy, sorry for not calling. I arrived but I--uh--I kinda can't leave. Tails: Why not? What happened? You okay? Sonic: Yes, it's just-- Abe [in the background]: Stupid lab rat--Take this! Shadow: Damn it! Listen, I lose and I burn this whole facility with everyone inside! Sonic: It's just some déjà vu I'm feeling kind of icky about…