#he's been having to be serious about the charity discussion so now it's all come out in a pure beam of What

[nightshadeowl]

Oh Joe is absolutely having fun with this one.

[onlyangel4]

desperate times call for desperate measures. toto wolff.

sugar daddy! toto wolff x reader

you are a struggling artist trying to live instead of just spending every moment worrying about money. toto wolff is the lonliest rich man in the world, when you find each other you are exactly what the other needs.

warnings- 18+, cursing, discussions of financial struggles. sugar daddy relationship. age gap relationship ( reader is around twenty five) there will be a lot of smut in the following parts of this fic. toto in love with someone he hasn’t met. male masturbation. smut. for this toto has been divorced for three years.

part two

your life wasn’t at the point that you hoped it would be by now. art was your biggest passion in the entire world, it was something that you loved and you were incredibly good at, but it was also so difficult to make a break through in the art space. you painted whenever you were inspired but those paintings crowded a storage unit that was worth half your monthly rent. your financials were in the bin, and you were furiously budgeting just to make sure you could afford everything that you needed. this was not living. your friends were constantly going on nights out but you had to say no time and time again just because you knew you would not be able to afford it. you were missing out on so much fun and it was driving you fucking insane.

you were embarrassed by your financial situation, the only person who knew about how much you were struggling was your best friend, anna. anna was the least judgemental person on planet earth, you knew that you were safe to rant to her about everything going on in your life, she didn’t have much more money than you but she did get to go on the trips that you missed out on.

“you know what you need?”, anna mused sat on the bed of your tiny apartment her frame threatening fall off at any moment, “you need a sugar daddy, lou has one and he buys her all sort of shit”, anna spoke and you just rolled your eyes at such an out there suggestion.

“come on anna, those things are just scams”, you spoke and anna was quick to shake her head.

“no, they are legit, lou showed me the app she uses. seeking arrangements, it is all legit. i swear if I wasn’t with tom i would have downloaded it already”, she was actually being serious.

you were going to come back with some snarky comeback for your best friend but you quickly noticed that the phone in her hands was yours and not hers.

“what are you doing with my phone?”

“i am doing you a favour y/n, this could really help you out”

you pondered her words for a moment, the last time you had seen lou she was decked out in all knew jewellery and she was wearing one of the nicest dresses you had ever laid eyes on. maybe this whole thing had worked out well for her. It could be worth a try.

“okay, but make sure you pick my best pictures”

the rest of that night was spent drinking wine and setting up your seeking arrangements profile together. there were was a good mix of photos on the profile starting with one of you on the beach from two years ago, the last time you could afford a holiday, you were dressed in a striking red one piece and anna swore that you looked like someone out of baywatch. one of you and your beloved black cat, liquorice. one with you next to the last painting you had sold, three months ago, the last time you had been truly proud of yourself. then there were a couple of filler pictures of you and your friends because anna decided that any sugar daddies needed to know that you had people that loved you, just in case they were planning on harming you, a comment that made your eyes roll. once the profile was set up you and anna both fell asleep, anna in your bed and you on the floor in a sleeping bag, because your couch was from a charity shop and probably the most uncomfortable thing to sleep on.

the following week your profile had gotten a little bit of attention from different people but never anyone that properly took your interest. all the first messages were either mentioning how good your tits looked in that one piece or they were guys proper showing off how much money they had something that did not interest you at all.  however, eight days into your profile being up you had gotten one message much more interesting than all the others, “that painting in your third picture looks familiar is that ares del maestrat?” now that message had taken you by surprise. one, because so far in all of the messages you had received no one had actually mentioned your art. and two, he was right, it was ares del maestrat, a place in spain that you happened to stumble upon on your last visit to the country, an area that you had found so stunning you knew you needed to paint it as soon as you got home.

“you are right! It is a gorgeous area, i found it by accident a couple years back, i wish i could visit it again”, you text him back.

“it is beautiful, i visit spain every year, i try to make time in my schedule to go every single year”, oh so this man was RICH rich.

you continued to text the man behind the kind messages about your work for the entire following week. you were quick to learn that his name was toto, his profile was under peter but that was only because he wanted to keep it somewhat private that he had a profile on the app because his career was in the public eye. Once he felt comfortable with you he began telling you what his job entailed, he was a team principle for an f1 team. you told him that you did not really know what that meant because you had never even seen a race. he explained to you his role and you couldn’t help but find the fact that he was so high up in such a career incredibly attractive, you were enjoying talking to him.

toto had downloaded the app due to a mix of loneliness and pure curiosity. He had been single for a few years now and he was getting fed up of both falling asleep and then waking up alone. he had heard about seeking arrangements and after doing a little bit of research on the app he had decided that maybe he did want to be a sugar daddy. he just wanted someone to spoil, someone that he could spend time with. and the idea of helping someone that was struggling with money was also something that interested him, it seemed like a pretty good exchange to him.

one issue though, toto found out that he was incredibly picky when it came to finding someone on the app. he was forever picking holes in all the profiles that he saw, some people had “don’t message me unless you will drop a hundred grand on me”, in their profiles which he just found tacky and others just did not seem like they had much substance behind them. but then he found you. each one of your photos was embellished by a genuine smile on your lips. and he couldn’t help but be taken aback by a picture of you with a painting of his favourite place in spain, now that had to be a sign. that is how you ended up being the first person that toto messaged on the entire app.

he had not been expecting to get on with you as much as he did. he educated you on all things to do with f1 while you sent him multiple voice messages about painting and your creative process. he was so interested you and listening to you go on about how passionate you were about art was something that toto could do forever. you were special and he was going to treat you as such.

after the first week of talking you sent him your number, citing that it was much easier to use that rather than text on the app. And after a couple days of having your number toto called you out of the blue. he spoke to you like you were long lost friends, there was no awkwardness at all. just the two of you talking about your days. you called every day always at the same time and after a week those calls turned into facetimes and toto was sure that he would never get bored of seeing your face flash up on his screen. you became the favourite part of his day. he actually began secretly purchasing your paintings, going through art dealers. making sure that his identity was hidden. every time you sold a painting you sent him a picture of you with the painting and he was so happy to see your smiling face, knowing that he was the reason for it made his heart swell with pride.

you were actually the first one to bring up meeting but you were too much of a pussy to do it over the phone, “so mister f1, when would you be free to meet in person, i like talking to you :)”, you had text him and as soon as toto saw that message his heart started hammering in his chest.

“well we have summer break starting next week, i can fly to London and we can meet there”, he had text back, making you smile brightly.

“i’ll see you then”

“darling, send me your address, i will send a car to pick you up”, you did as you were told, this man way only want you to provide company for him but you felt a need to oblige him. from your messages and times spent calling him you had learnt that he had a very dominant presence, one that never failed to make you go weak at the knees.

your message could not have come at a better time, you were driving toto mad with all your cute pictures and messages but toto had realised that he really needed to see you the moment he found himself with his fist around his cock, one hand looking through the pictures that were on your profile coupled with a few pictures that you had sent him privately when he asked to see more pictures that you had. he was rubbing his cock thinking about a girl that he had never met, a girl that just wanted a sugar daddy but he could not help it, something about you just made him moan your name as his chest heaved up and down, head tilting back slightly. And as he came onto his bed sheets he made a promise to himself. he was going to treat you so good you would not be able to find a reason to leave. and that was the night that you text him about meeting, it was like you could read his mind.

[bethanydelleman]

Knightley isn’t the Secret Villain of Emma

The book Jane Austen, the Secret Radical by Helena Kelly has been haunting me despite the fact that I’ve never read it and I probably won’t because everything I hear is wild. Theories from that book come up in discussions a lot.

Anyway, I would like to address the author’s theory that Mr. Knightley is actually the villain of the novel, marrying Emma just to he can enclose land and become more powerful/wealthy. Also, he caused the turkey theft by making people poorer. There is a argument against this theory here and, by the excellent John Mullen: here.

So firstly, this goes against everything we know about Mr. Knightley’s character. He shows concern for everyone, especially the poor, and he respects people of the lower class, such as Robert Martin. We see many examples of this, the Bates being a prime example. He sends his last apples to Miss Bates and offers his own carriage for the Bates and Jane Fairfax to go to the Coles. (This also proves he can use his carriage if he wants to). The most dramatic point of the book is him scolding Emma for being unkind to someone poorer than herself!

Secondly, there are still common fields, it’s right in the book: if one is blown over in the bleak part of the common field there will be the other at hand. I dare say we shall be all safe at Hartfield before midnight (Ch 15).

Thirdly, I don’t see how this is evidence at all of Knightley having evil plots:

“True, true,” cried Mr. Knightley, with most ready interposition—“very true. That’s a consideration indeed.—But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path.... The only way of proving it, however, will be to turn to our maps. I shall see you at the Abbey to-morrow morning I hope, and then we will look them over, and you shall give me your opinion.” (Ch 11)

Knightley is talking to his own brother, among family. We have absolutely no reason to believe he is lying. In his annotated Emma, David M. Shapard points to this same passage as an example of Mr. Knightley’s thoughtfulness to the local people. If anything, this makes him an ideal, not a villain.

Fourthly, like, theft happens people. In every society all the time. Poultry are smallish and stupid and easy to steal. And to blame Knightley for poverty when even Jesus admitted that poverty will literally always exist? One man can only do so much!

Finally, Jane Austen does mention enclosure in her novels, indicating she’s not scared to bring it up, and which character does it? John freaking Dashwood. When telling his sister why he is so poor, John says, “The enclosure of Norland Common, now carrying on, is a most serious drain [to his finances].” (Ch 33, Sense & Sensibility) Of course he’s not poor; he also does not engage in charity at all, not even when he makes a deathbed promise to his father. If you read both of these novels and somehow took away that Knightley is another John Dashwood than... I mean honestly I don’t even know what to say.

But it’s also unclear in S&S if Austen though enclosure was a bad thing. Henry Dashwood, the girl’s father, seems to me to be presented as a good man, and he might well to have been planning enclosure as well:  

Mr. Dashwood’s disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper was cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many years, and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the produce of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate improvement.

Which leads me to believe that the real crime of John Dashwood was to complain to his impoverished sisters, not necessarily the enclosure itself. He’s claiming poverty while doing something to make himself more wealthy.

Either way, however Jane Austen actually viewed enclosure, I don't know how you can read Emma and decide that the thoughtful, caring, polite, and truth-telling Mr. Knightley, who gives up his actual home to live with Emma and her father, is somehow the villain.

Additional Note: I am pretty disinclined to believe anything in the book Secret Radical because of her argument that Fanny bought a knife for Betsey to protect her from the abuse of Mr. Price. Which is.. just insane. I really doubt either Susan (14) or Betsey (5) could fight off a former Marine Officer with a pen knife, even if that was how child abuse worked... but also none of the Price children ever act like they are afraid of their father. He yells at the boys once to zero effect and then they come and make noise right in front of him... Anyway, I'm just addressing the Knightley thing because it comes up a lot online now.

[heir-less]

I sort of feel as if I was misled about the ITV interview a little. Within the context of it, Bradby is clearly grilling Harry on the topic of racism, and how it looks for members of the royal family to have all these allegations of racism tied to them. During this discussion Harry says about unconscious bias and the comments about Archie's skin colour:

But once it’s been acknowledged, or pointed out to you as an individual, or as an institution, that you have unconscious bias, you therefore have an opportunity to learn and grow from that in order so that you are part of the solution rather than part of the problem. Otherwise unconscious bias then moves into the category of racism [ . . . ] the environment within the institution, and why after our Oprah interview, they said that they were gonna bring in a diversity tsar. That hasn’t happened. Everything they said was gonna happen hasn’t happened [ . . .] if you are called out for unconscious bias you need to make that right. And you have the opportunity and the choice to. But if you choose not to, then that rapidly becomes something much more serious.

So, what I'm getting here is that Harry is saying, while the royal family might not have been intentionally racist with their actions, it has now been brought to their attention on various occasions and they have still failed to correct those mistakes and learn from them. Now it becomes a more serious problem of racism because they are aware, but aren't doing anything to fix the problem, incidents like with what happened to Ngozi Fulani. Maybe Lady Susan didn't mean harm (that's why he was saying he and Meghan love her, as a way of saying he doesn't think she acted with malice, not to excuse her actions), but her insensitive comments were a result of the palace making no effort to train people on diversity, resulting in racial minorities getting hurt.

He is still sort of misusing the term unconscious bias, but this is definitely not him saying the royal family isn't racist. My only issue with this is that he's using too many words, I cut a lot of it out and his answer is still too long. He needed to be more direct, which is hard, but it would have given a better answer. He's trying to control the press narrative which will paint him in direct opposition to his family, I get that, but the answer could have been given more coherently.

The "Africa's my thing" comment was taken out of context, I got an anon pointing that out, Bradby was quoting something written about William in Spare. William didn't want Harry doing charity work in Africa because that was "his thing" and that reveals a colonialist mindset on William's part.

Harry said he has no issues with the monarchy as a concept and still believes in it, but that does not signal to me any loyalty to the current British firm. He still obviously has grave issues with them and he has no plans of returning ever, he just believes that these issues aren't inherent to the system and can be fixed. Honestly, that's fine for Harry to believe that. I have never viewed him as an anti-monarchist, the value of his story comes in revealing the toxic workings of the British press and the abusive/hurtful elements of his family, and making a case for why these issues are harmful and need fixing not as a manifesto as to why monarchy is a bad political system. Will his book probably demonstrate why the monarchy is bad inherently? Yes, but that's not in line with Harry's personal views and that's all they are—personal views.

[theharddeck]

texan!hangman headcannons that no one asked for

literally no one asked lol but my qualifications are (1) my father is Texan (2) every summer my parents shipped us off to Dallas to swelter at my grandma's house (3) I was in a sorority in Texas (4) I lived there for 5 years and also worked my first job there, okay let's discuss

so first of all, because I've been seeing some people say Jake's from upstate NY (??)-- the man is Texan

this is important syntax, people

there's from Texas (you were born there), there's lives in Texas (you currently are there), and there's Texan (your whole identity) and y'all he is the latter

his family has their pew at the First Baptist Dallas, whether they attend or not, whether they listen or not, they tithe on easter and christmas and when the pastor comes over for dinner, and no one sits in their pew

Jake saw The Alamo (1960) in IMAX when he was like 8 and it never left his subconscious

once, when Jake was being obnoxious about it, Payback was like hey remind me again what they were fighting for? At the Alamo?

Jake stopped bringing it up after that

but that movie was damn important, along with the rest of Texas lore, in determining his principles on independence, nobility, service and sacrifice

in the same way from Texas/in Texas/Texan matters, the part of the state matters

Jake is Dallas

Jake is old money

There's a certain type of Rich Texan who're so serious about pedigree, you guys, and Jake walks the way he does bc he was bred for it

His mother is a Texas first family, his father's father was in oil, and his father is the one who carried on the business and cleaned up good (he's now in local politics)

Jake's mom is from the hill country, and they have a ranch that goes back a couple generations in her family

they do not go to the ranch unless they're bringing outside-the-immediate-family with them

campaigning efforts for his father come to mind

if Jake has sisters, they were debutantes

once he hit high school, he was an escort every year for a Dallas Symphony League deb

which means he's none of this bumbling country hick/cowboy Jake, no this asshole knows his way around a gala

he probably resented it, probably drove his mom insane with dirt stains on his suit, but he knows how to smile when he doesn't mean it, lead a girl around a waltz, charm matrons who are waiting to be impressed, and fathers who want to see themselves in him

his father taught him different types of whisky when he was like 15 and he never wants a beer but he’ll take one if offered

there’s just a lot of unspoken rules, right, and Jake learned them early

open doors for a lady, walk on the outside of the sidewalk, sir/ma’am, the place you buy your boots, it all matters

because nothing is more important than how you reflect on the family

his folks aren't around much

there's always charity events that his mom is swept up in, and his dad never emerges from his perfect mahogany-covered library in their house

which is in Highland Park, obviously

idk what else to say, I just need people to understand that Jake is not country!Texan, he is highsociety!Texan

[the-hot-zone]

Too Old To Play With Toys: The Sad Truth Behind Sokka's Boomerang

This is Sokka’s boomerang: 

[ID: a screenshot of Sokka’s boomerang from Avatar: The Last Airbender. It has just been thrown, and it whips through the air in a rapid, whirling motion. End ID.]

And as we all know, it always comes back. This characteristic makes Sokka’s boomerang a returning boomerang, rather than a hunting boomerang. This is an important distinction to make, and it’s where the heart of this headcanon lays. Let me explain. 

Accuracy: What’s the Difference Between Hunting and Throwing Boomerangs?

There are three types of boomerangs: the hunting boomerang, the returning boomerang, and the cross boomerang. We’re only going to be discussing hunting and throwing boomerangs, but feel free to learn about cross boomerangs and their construction--they’re really cool. As a general note: the following sources and information pertain to Aboriginal Australian cultures. Boomerangs were used elsewhere, but mainly as throwing sticks, not returning boomerangs.

So, hunting boomerangs, also known as throwing sticks or kylies, have this basic shape:

[ID: a black silhouette of a hunting boomerang. It is shaped like a skinny tear drop, with a slight curve along its form, and it widens asymmetrically at its ends. End ID.]

[ID: an overhead shot of three hunting boomerangs. They are carved from glossy, light-brown wood. End ID.]

Artist: Aboriginal Elder, Joe Skeen Snr. Buy here.

The hunting boomerang is straighter, larger, longer, and deadlier than the returning boomerang. “With it,” states the Britannica, “animals were maimed and killed, while in warfare it caused serious injuries and death.” This is due to its shape, which allows it to travel in a relatively straight line. With its capability for distance and force, the hunting boomerang is a very powerful tool. 

According to Boomerang: Behind an Australian Icon by Philip Jones, a hunting boomerang can travel around 100 meters. If the boomerang is heavy enough, and the throw forceful enough, large prey, like kangaroos, can be killed. If you want to see a hunting boomerang in action, watch sections of this Youtube video. The range and accuracy of this tool are amazing. 

The returning boomerang, which was used in eastern and western parts of Australia, is very different:

[ID: a black silhouette of a returning boomerang. It has two arms that widen towards the middle and connect, forming an angled shape, like a triangle with two sides. End ID.]

[ID: a painted returning boomerang. The base is formed from a smooth, light-colored wood. Designs are painted at the end of its wings, in the middle of its wings, and towards its center. At the center is a stylized turtle. End ID.]

Artist: unknown, but sold by Aboriginal-owned business Murra Wolka. Website here. 

As you can see, the returning boomerang is shorter, smaller, and angled sharply. The shape of it allows it to trace an elliptical path, thus returning to the thrower. But this property is not without its drawbacks:

“A hunting boomerang needs to fly well and nearly straight to strike prey some 200 metres away. The trouble is that the best-flying boomerangs tend to return, rarely departing beyond fifty metres from the thrower. With the returning form ‘there is no certainty of hitting the mark. It may come back too quickly and may hit your own friends standing near you.’ While recognising that the best-flying boomerangs do return, Aborigines defined a technological problem. They needed to strike a compromise between flying ability and hunting requirements...” (Australian Museum).

Now, the returning boomerang could still be used to hunt, but not to kill or maim prey. Its application was craftier:

“When hunting ducks, for example, nets were set up at either ends of a creek or river. A boomerang was then thrown out over the ducks which gave them a scare so that they took off up the river and flew directly into the nets. From there they were collected. At other times during the hunting of birds the returning boomerang was thrown horizontally along the ground into a flock, and, as they took off the boomerang would follow them into the air. This may or may not kill the bird and a harder way to hunt” (murruppi.com).

Still, this wasn’t the main application of the returning boomerang. In actuality, it was used as a toy:

“The returning boomerang was not primarily designed for hunting as it is too light and wouldn't guarantee a kill. Rather, it was designed as a toy for young aboriginal boys. The toy would allow a youngster to practice throwing skills but still make it fun” (murrippi.com). 

So, Sokka’s boomerang? A plaything.

Let’s Bring It Back to ATLA: What Does This Mean?

With the above information, Sokka’s use of his boomerang in canon becomes almost tragic. His boomerang was probably given to him by Hakoda when he was very young. He used it to learn how to throw; one day, when he was older, he would have carved his own throwing stick, and used it to hunt alongside his dad and the other adults of his tribe. 

Instead, Sokka’s boomerang is another aspect of his childhood that was twisted by the war. His boomerang is--should have been--nothing more than a toy. He shouldn’t have had to use it to fend off Zuko, attack Azula, and defeat Combustion Man. Regardless, it did become a tool he used to help defeat the Fire Nation, and that’s pretty fitting when it comes to ATLA’s ideas of childhood and war: Sokka spent years acting as his tribe’s protector; Katara spent longer acting as a mother. Thus, his use of his boomerang throughout the show displays how Sokka was forced into a war-torn world at an incredibly, unfairly young age. As a result, he was forced to adapt in ways that took from him. 

And we’ve all seen Sokka’s boomerang in action. Here’s a video of his greatest hits--literally. His accuracy is insane, and he catches his boomerang every time. He’s more than ready to have a hunting boomerang, yet we see him use his returning boomerang throughout the show, and long after he earns his ice dodging mark. Tbh? I think that Sokka didn’t want to carve a hunting boomerang without his dad guiding his hands. 

So, you might be wondering, what happens post-war? 

Eventually, I think Sokka retires his returning boomerang and carves his own hunting boomerang, but the shape of it is particular: 

“Some scientists argue that a throwing-stick, commonly used by indigenous hunters around the world, is the precursor of the boomerang... Through trial-and-error the boomerang was refined to a point where the most desirable size, proportions and curvature were established. This refinement brought one serious problem: any improvement in flying resulted in a tendency to return. There is little doubt that indigenous hunters brought this experiment to its ultimate conclusion, by producing the perfect returning boomerang” (Australian Museum).

In short, making a good hunting boomerang is hard. Lots of trial and error, and still, hunting boomerangs come in a wide array of shapes. Thus, I headcanon that Sokka carves his hunting boomerang differently, as compared to the other members of his tribe--it’s more curved. This would show that although he's grown up and is in a post-war world, he's changed in some ways that can't be completely undone. 

In other words, Sokka eventually moves on, but the way he throws and uses his boomerang is going to be a little different.

Conclusion

TL;DR: Sokka’s boomerang is a plaything, and this has sad implications. But also? He never should have had one in the first place. Firstly, boomerangs were traditionally made from green hardwood, which I don’t believe can be found in the South Pole. I on god can’t find any authentic sources for bone or metal boomerangs. To be more accurate and still keep with the trend of throwing weapons, I would’ve given Sokka a nuqaq and darts or a bola.

Also, as far as I can tell, Sokka’s boomerang is the only aspect of Aboriginal Australian culture Bryke used in ATLA (I can’t get a confirmation on Hakoda’s name). This is cherry-picking to the max, and it perpetuates the harmful ideas of pan-indigeneity wrt one large, singular culture. 

So, if you enjoyed this, please consider supporting aboriginal artists and charities. You can buy aboriginal art from murrippi.com and Murra Wolka. This article here provides a list of charities as well as active GoFundMe’s for families affected by police brutality against Aboriginal Australians. Thank you.

Sources

“Hunting Boomerang - Extreme Range - The Aboriginal Karli” by Throwsticks Channel

“Boomerang Information“ by Murruppi, Djirrbal/Ngadjonji Tribe 

“Boomerang” by the Encyclopaedia Britannica's editors for the Encyclopaedia Britannica

“It Comes Back ... What a Nuisance!“ by Stan Florek for Australian Museum 

Boomerang: Behind an Australian Icon by Philip Jones from Wikipedia 

Murra Wolka 

Gonna tag @atlaculture​​​ because I think this is of your interest. <3

[snifflesthemouse]

Harry’s the Problem. His wife is the symptom. He is the real Diana 2.0 Wannabe...

         Since the Oprah interview aired, my whole perspective regarding the spare and his spouse has shifted. It would seem that I’m not alone in my thought process as more and more media outlets start reporting similar stances. Just recently, there was an article suggesting Harry didn’t change; but rather, he is only finally revealing his true self. The more I think about it all, the more I’ve come to the realization #6 is the real culprit behind everything.

         I’m not saying that his wife doesn’t have her own agenda or shares responsibility for her part in all this. Her hands are far from clean. What I am saying is it’s finally time for all of us to consider the cold, hard truth. Harry is his mother’s child. Harry is the bad egg, and his wife is only a side effect of the real problem here.

         Had it not been for the Oprah interview, I would have never put it all together. The problem with oversharing is too much information gets put out in the public. Most assume PR firms would worry about oversaturation in the press, but the real problem comes from personal interviews they cannot control in real-time. Puff pieces can be edited before publishing so facts and statements align; live interviews cannot. Over time, one of two patterns form from this oversaturation. Consistencies, repetitions, and similarities can be found in oversaturated truth-telling. Inconsistencies, changes, and huge differences result from those like Harry who prefer their trousers scorching hot from bursting into flames from deception. When you consistently lie, the only constant is the inconsistencies. 

         Now, those of us who have been following these two already know by now inconsistencies and changing stories should be expected. But the Oprah interview really highlighted some interesting things I had previously missed. The interview with Dax Shephard only solidifies my theories. Up until lately, those two have been together through most everything. Very seldom have we seen Harry alone in an interview or speech. There’s never a time where the missus isn’t popping up. James Corden proved that. Then we have the Oprah interview where she was supposed to be the star of the show. But, that was the moment it all changed. That interview was the moment she became the understudy. 

          Think about it. Who is the one being used in the media lately? Most people would suggest that the impending delivery of child number dos is why the missus is absent. One would then argue the Apple + special with Oprah started production well before the second child was a topic for discussion. The missus is being used less and less on camera or in the media. Everything is all about Harry. Forget about when Harry met Sally; Harry Met Hollywood! 

         Harry is the one doing the interviews, dropping projects, and talking with big Hollywood names. Even their announced Netflix projects are focused on one of Harry’s pre-married concepts. All the wife has going for her is a book that’s only number one in the “Books written by ex-Royals who couldn’t hack it” category. Seriously though, as of this posting the Bench is #2130 on the Amazon Books list, #12 in Children’s Black and African American Story Books, #73 in Children’s Emotions Books, and #167 in Children’s Family Life Books. Being pregnant isn’t a disqualifier for being interviewed. But, apparently being just the wife is.

         So, if it was his wife’s plan from the beginning to marry Harry, get him to abandon his family, move to California, and become a big star with a Prince for a husband, her plans have been ruined. And if you think about what she said in the interview with Oprah, you can actually see the moments she told us all exactly that. She clearly tells Oprah Harry was her direct link and source to the Royal Family and everything she needed to know. She didn’t misspeak or misunderstand a thing; she was telling us that Harry’s next to be markled. In every weird answer or revelation where she gave her versions for why their child(ren) were without title, saying they wed three days before the chapel, or having to cry out to HR since Harry failed to help her while she was so depressed she wanted to kill herself and her unborn child... all of it. It was all just the beginning. It may seem like she is attacking her husband’s family, but Harry’s the real target now.

          In just a couple sentences, she managed to reveal who Harry really was. Harry, of all people, should (and does) know how to navigate the press. Clearly, he failed to not only help her acclimate to Royal life, but it could also even be argued he set her up for failure for the get go. Let me give you an example. When my husband introduced me to his family for the first time, he told me little tidbits of information he found important for me to know. He essentially prepped me for the meeting so things went well. He wanted his family to like me because he loved me. I wanted them to like me because I loved him, too. So, I took to heart everything he told me. Yet, Harry’s wife shared with the world how little Harry cared about that. She credits Fergie with teaching her to curtsey, google for teaching her the National Anthem, and even said Her Majesty made her feel especially welcomed. So how did Harry not do more? If they started seeing one another in the early Summer of 2016, how is it Harry failed to teach or explain anything to her prior to meeting his grandmother, the Queen, when he had months and months of time to do so? How is it he failed his wife so miserably, she didn’t even understand basic UK custom, laws, or protocols? Why might you ask?

         Simply put, Harry is so much like his mother, all he knows is how to play the victim narrative while using the link to the Royal family as a nonstop ATM machine. Many people aren’t honest with themselves when it comes to Diana. She wasn’t the Mother Theresa everyone makes her out to be. Mother Theresa wasn’t a Mother Theresa either, though. Did Diana do some great things? Absolutely. Did she do them only because they were nice or great? Absolutely… not. Diana’s PR team would even have her switch up her charity causes whenever they felt it was getting to martyrdom level. They’d refer to her PR stunts as flavors. Does that sound like an innocent woman?

         Not to me. This whole time we all have seen his wife as the root of all issues, but she’s the side effect. It’s becoming more clear by the day that Harry searched out her. He wanted someone with the basic Hollywood connections that he could capitalize. Someone that seemed so controlling and ambitious it would be easy to believe they were controlling him, too. Of course he knew she would invite all the celebs she did. He probably inspired that guest list. Instead of guiding her in the press and in British society, he leads her to slaughter. He hides behind her repeated gaffes and wokeness to keep on his own mission.

         You see, Harry is obsessed with his brother eventually becoming king, being the “Second Son of Diana” and being the misfit. He is obsessed with his brother and father. They are all he talks about. When you obsess on something like that, it is more revealing than anything you say. Harry’s true motives aren’t protecting his wife and children. His real motive is making a name for himself like his mother did. If he can manage to get some revenge by making the Firm feel some backlash, hey that’s a bonus. 

         While his wife may think in her mind she will be the next Diana 2.0, the truth is we all missed who really will be. Harry is the one wanting to be Diana 2.0. If that’s the case, then that means the much older spouse for whom there are two children with, aka the wife, would be his Charles. Remember, Diana lost her HRH and titles. And we have Harry being very aggressive and pushy, to the point it seems he is trying to get ahead of a Palace announcement of them losing their titles. But it makes sense now.

         They aren’t trying to lose anything, but instead Harry keeps opening his mouth to create pressure in the media. He knows his wife does not want to give those titles back. But if he himself keeps saying outrageous things, then it would put everyone in ultimatum mode. Either Harry will push hard enough that Parliament and the Queen will have enough, or the press will get so critical of the two, Harry will push his wife to agree to returning the titles.

         Harry is following the Diana business model. While in the Royal Family, they both were seen as rock stars who had more star power the the Sovereign, which was an issue. Then, they couldn’t take all the abuse, coldness, and inhumanity, so they bolted for freedom. Instead of putting the past behind them, they use the past to monetize grief and trauma in such a way, they become their own brand. Right now, the trauma being monetized comes from the past, but the problem will soon come when that trauma is tapped out. He will need a source of new pain or victimhood. Enters the wife stage left.

          The wife is a tool. She of course has her own plans and thinks she is the one in control or the genius. She thinks she is the one everyone wants to work with. But it’s becoming clear to her that isn’t the case and she’s been played by her elite buddies. They all want him, not her. They all duped her for him. If I can see it, and I can see her already finger pointing that Harry is the failure here, then she can see it. And that means paradise will soon be lost in those Montecito hills. His wife won’t go down without a serious fight here. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she eventually causes him to lose his special visa. 

         Overall, Harry hides behind his wife like a beard or shield protecting him from the press’s glaring lens. He lets her do and say whatever she thinks is great so he can keep plotting his own plans. He allows her to take the fall, look stupid, pull stunts people can see through, etc. for a reason. He isn’t completely sure he can make it in his new California life. He knows he can’t if he keeps her for too long, but he also knows he needs an exit strategy in case it blows up. So, he pins the press to attack her as the true culprit. If they split and he has to, he can return home and play the victim of her. If they split and he is doing okay in Hollywood, she can be the reason he plays victim to big named people like Oprah and Gayle. 

         I can see it now. An Oprah Special with Harry tonight on Apple +. Something cheesy or corny that is almost plagiarism. Like Narcissus and the Prince or something. Watch. Mark my words. Oprah talking to Harry about surviving the marriage while trying to rescue two small kids, being in the spotlight as a Royal while being gaslit by a narcissistic wife… yes I can see the green screen set up now.

         I know this is difficult to digest, but I do ask you to try. While his wife is not innocent, she clearly is guilty for her own part indeed, his wife isn’t the true problem. The true problem here is a man who has a serious issue with living in the shadow of his future-King father and future-King brother, and his future-King nephew, that he has chosen to use the same exact attack model his own mother used to merch and marginally disrupt the institution that made her a star. Harry and his mother both wanted the entire spotlight, but both knew they could never have it the way they wanted it. So, they wrote their own victimhood narrative.

         And here we are now. Mark my words. Harry will keep pushing until those remaining titles are removed by them forcing the hands of Parliament and the Queen. Or, they’ll push and push in the press so much the outrage and hypocrisy will leave them no other option but to renounce and re-gift those titles and rights to the line of succession. That is what he wants, even if his missus doesn’t. Also make no mistake about it. Harry is the real Diana 2.0 wannabe, not his wife. Keep an eye out. I have this gnawing feeling that soon enough, there will be plenty leaks from the wife about the husband. She won’t go quietly into the Beverly Hills… but neither will he.

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part II) - Chapter 5

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words:  11.433K (they keep getting bigger and bigger don’t they?)

Authors note: I told myself i would only updated this once i finished writing two chapters ahead, but here we are. I hope everyone has a good reading, please let me know what you think and if you have any questions regarding the story i’m as lost as you are but i believe everything will make sense at the end.

//-//-//-//-//

When you woke up in the morning, you were really irritated.

Not having slept very well, both because of the time you went back to bed, and because of the strange dreams with red lights that you kept having, you were really sleepy when you had to get up.

And well, the first class was History of Magic, so the universe was not in your favor.

But you were quite surprised when you reached Professor Okoye's classroom and found a small crowd of students waiting at the door.

"What's going on?" You asked Quill as soon as you identified him in the crowd, Mantis right behind you. 

"I don't think we're going to have class today." He replied while looking into the room. You copied his movement, and could see the teacher moving the tables and chairs in the room away to the corner, leaving a nice clear space. When she was finished, she waved for everyone to come in.

You stood with Quill and Mantis and the rest of the students scattered around the room, and the teacher in the center. She closed the door with a wave of her wand as they all entered, a small smile on her lips.

"I have an announcement to make, students." She begins. "According to the traditions of the triwizard tournament, the host school must organize a winter ball during christmas night after the first task." She tells and has to raise her voice a bit because the students start talking to each other excitedly. "And as head of the Gryffindor house, renowned for its chivalry, I was made responsible for organizing dance class sessions." She pauses briefly, looking at the students until they fall silent. "I also expect the Hufflepuff house to behave as respectfully as my Gryffindor students, since the honorable Helga Hufflepuff was known for her great charity balls."

With a wave of Okoye's wand, a cabinet in the corner of the room opens, and out of it flies a small music organ to the corner of the room. When she waves it again, a soft melody fills the entire room.

"Let's begin."

//-//

It is only at lunchtime that you get to talk to Wanda. And your feet still hurt from the times Quill stepped on them during the dance class.

You throw your bag on the Slytherin bench and sit down next to Wanda, looking at her expectantly. The girl makes a confused frown.

"What?" she asks with a slight humor in her voice.

"Really, Wands?" You reply in the same tone. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"The tournament." 

Wanda rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the plate in front of her. You frown at the way she is being casual about it.

"What about the tournament?"

You let out a short laugh.

"What do you mean “what about the tournament”? You're the champion of Hogwarts! The underage champion of Hogwarts!" You clarify, but Wanda doesn't look at you. You blink in confusion, and reach your forearm down on the table, touching her lightly so that she looks at you. Your chest aches as she pulls her arm away. "What's wrong?"

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair lightly.

"I just don't want to hear about how I'm an irresponsible cheater or how dangerous the tournament is." She replies looking at you.

"I wasn't going to say that." You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes, which irritates you. "You haven't even heard what I have to say and you've already drawn your own conclusions."

Wanda clenches her jaw, her cheeks slightly reddened.

"And what do you have to say about it then?"

"I was gonna offer to help you practice for the tasks!" You clarify angrily. And Wanda blinks in confusion. You turn your face forward next, crossing your arms. Arguing with Wanda was absolutely the worst. 

It takes a moment, but her posture softens completely and she sighs, reaching out for your arm afterwards.

"Hey." She calls tenderly, but you continue to stare straight ahead. "Hey, I'm sorry. Look at me."

You slowly turn to the side, looking down at your lap. Wanda waits for you to look up, and when you do, she gives you a weak smile.

" I'm sorry." She repeats, and you sigh, nodding. Wanda bites her lip, looking at you for a moment. "I need to tell you something. Is about..."

Wanda falls silent as your friends arrive at the table, commenting excitedly on the news of the dance that has already spread throughout the school. She sighs softly, straightening herself to look forward. You bite the inside of your cheeks, curious to know what she was going to say, but not wanting to press her.

When Nebula and Gamora sit across from you, you strain to pay attention to their conversation.

"But Wanda, tell us, what is it like to be a Hogwarts champion?" Gamora asks after the topic about the ball closes. Wanda tenses momentarily, and you want to ask why Pietro is sitting at the other end of the table with boys you don't know instead of with his sister, but the brunette forces a smile and you don't.

"I don't recommend the experience, if you ask me." She retorted with slight irony in her voice, making the group laugh. "After the selection, the principals of the other schools were not at all happy about my participation."  She counters twisting her fingers lightly. "I think they were questioning the security of the Goblet choice. But Principal Harkness stood up for me, in her own way at least. She insisted that nothing could be done, because the magical contract with the goblet can only be broken with the end of the tournament."

"I imagine you had no idea this was all going to happen when you put your name on the goblet, eh?" Nebula asked wryly, making the group laugh. But Wanda frowned.

"I didn't put my name on the goblet." Wanda declared. Her friends gave a short laugh, thinking she was joking. But the other girl's serious expression makes them look at her in surprise.

"Wait, are you serious?" Gamora questions and Wanda nods, sighing. She exchanges shocked looks with Nebula and Mantis. Next, Gamora looks at you. "I guess that goes on your list of weird things this year, huh?"

You shake your head slightly, not wanting the girl in front of you to mention what happened in the cup, but Gamora is already commenting on your nightmares the next moment.

Wanda turns to you next.

"What nightmares?" She questions, and you sigh, losing your appetite. "And why didn't you tell me about what you saw in the cup? And well, if you were worried, you could have asked if everything was okay with me, we've been at Hogwarts for a month now and..."

"Wanda." You interrupt with a short smile. "Calm down, okay? I was just trying to find the right time to talk to you about everything."

"I am calm, I just want to know why you are hiding things from me! " She hits back and you frown in surprise.

"Look who's talking!"

You regret the way you speak, because Wanda gasps in surprise, her gaze hurt. Your friends witness the discussion intently.

"What did you mean by that?" She retorts angrily.

"You know very well what I meant." You reply in the same tone, feeling your stomach turn in nervousness. "You always hide things, whether with your family, or with your magic! And you won't tell me what's going on with us!"

Wanda looks at you in a mixture of surprise, anger and hurt, and you feel your heart racing. Some students are looking at you curiously, but Wanda's lack of response only disappoints you. You cast her an angry glance before getting up and leaving the hall.

//=//

You feel bad that you have accused Wanda the moment you reach your dorm. You don't know if she has the answers you seek. But you are tired, because it seems that everyone is keeping secrets from you.

Throwing yourself down on the sofa, you sigh as you close your eyes. You don't feel like studying right now, but soon you have a Defense Against the Dark Arts period and you need to get up. You don't rush, though, using all the remaining time at lunch to calm yourself, trying to push out the thoughts that you and Wanda would no longer be friends.

Mantis meets you at the door to the communal hall as soon as you leave, and you thank her for bringing your backpack back. 

"Are you okay?" She asks as you both walk toward the tower.

"Yeah, it was just a silly argument." You mumble clumsily.

"Wanda was pretty upset after you left." She counters, and you mutter in understanding. "I hope you two can make up soon."

"Me too."

When you arrived at the D.A.D.A. room, few minutes later, you grumbled softly because you could only find chairs in the front, and students who sat near Professor Fury were always called in.

The professor entered soon after, his long black cape dragging across the floor, and the customary eye patch hiding a scar on his face.

"Good afternoon, everyone." He announced loudly as he entered, and waited until everyone was seated to begin. Drawing out his wand, he charmed the chalk on the blackboard to write the subject of the day. Some buzz began to circulate as the words "unforgivable curses" formed on the board. "Who here can tell me what the unforgivable curses are?"

The room was completely silent. Fury walked between the tables.

"No one?" He asked. "How disappointing."

You knew that no one answered the question because it was a huge taboo in the witch community to talk about the dark arts so freely. Professor Fury seemed to know that too, and that only seemed to make him angry.

“Unforgivable curses are three of the most powerful and sinister spells in the world of magic.” Fury explains next. “Their use is forbidden in all magical communities, and if a wizard or witch casts any of them on another wizard or witch, they will receive a sentence in Azkaban.”

Fury made another motion with his wand and the closet at the back of the room opened, a small cage secured in an iron compartment with wheels crawled to the front. 

You and the rest of the room let out exclamations of surprise as you observed the creature inside. A large, hairy spider, very scary. Mantis shrank into the chair beside you.

"As an antidote to your ignorance, I recommend that you read the book of this subject before the next class, and bring me two scrolls about the first three chapters, specifying the history of the prohibition of unforgivable curses." Professor Fury then announced, drawing an unsatisfied buzz from the students. The room fell silent the next minute, however, as the professor opened the cage.

The spider moved on the iron, looking practically startled and shrinking into the cage. 

"The first unforgivable curse is the command curse." Fury explained, pointing his wand at the bug next. "Imperio."

You and the rest of the students watched in shock as the small crystallized flash came from the tip of the wand to the creature, which stretched its legs and then moved outward. It wasn't hard to deduce that it was Professor Fury who was controlling the spider, since from the movement of his wand, it was moving.

"The Imperium curse consists of absolute control of another living being." Fury told as he moved the spider around the room, drawing exclamations of fear and shock. "You see, during the last witch war, many sorcerers claimed that they were only fighting for Mephisto because of this curse." 

The mention of Mephisto made everyone hold their breath, but the professor didn't stop talking.

"The ministry found an efficient way to find out who was lying." He counters with a short smile. Bringing the spider back to the front of the room, to his desk for all to see, he holds it still. "You will find out eventually, children, that moral lines are usually broken during wars."

You exchanged a look with your colleagues, all clearly surprised and frightened. Fury cleared his throat, pointing his wand at the spider.

"Crucio" He spoke and unlike the other, no light came out. The spider cringed, making a high-pitched noise that filled the entire room. You understood that it was screaming in pain, and you felt your stomach clench. Before you knew it, you stood up abruptly, the noise attracting everyone's attention.

"Stop it!" You shouted angrily. "Can't you see you're hurting her?"

The teacher stopped, and you tried to control your uncompensated breathing. He cleared his throat, ignoring the buzz in the room as he extended his hand to the spider, which obediently climbed into his hand.

He turned to you, placing the animal on your desk, and you swallowed dryly, keeping your gaze on the back of the room, knowing exactly what was coming. Professor Fury looked at the creature with contempt. 

"The last unforgivable curse is the killing curse." He explains. "Avada Kedavra."

You close your eyes for a moment, feeling your body tremble. When you look down, the spider was dead. The room in complete silence.

You look at Professor Fury with watery eyes.

"No one should survive this curse." He tells you. Before you can say anything, he softens his expression, looking around. "And none survived, of course. Now, why aren't you guys writing down what I said?"

You don't feel very well for the rest of the class.

//-//

The vast majority of the students seem far more impressed with how dark Fury's classes have become than afraid. You can't say the same, because it seems that every time he has to explain something about dark magic, you feel sick. Gamora tried to cheer you up by joking that auror wouldn't be the right profession for you, but you've been so upset about the absence of Wanda that you've barely been able to smile.

As the first assignment approaches, you want to forget that you fought and apologize, but the girl also seems to be avoiding you, so you do the same.

Pietro has also been distant, and Nebula told you that he and Wanda were not yet on the best of terms, and Pietro was spending much more time with Monica and Darcy than with you all. 

When the day of the first task finally arrived, you ignored the fact that you were fighting and went to look for Wanda, unable to ignore the feeling of worry that took over your whole body.

You had no idea what the first task was going to be, but Miss Harkness had asked the whole school to go to the Quidditch field on Saturday, and there were tents set up at the north end. You told Gamora that you would join her in the stands in a moment, that you needed to talk to Wanda first, and you snuck through the crowd to reach the champions' tent area.

"Psst." You called out from between the canvas of the tent, recognizing the gloomy figure sitting in the corner of the place as you entered from the back. Wanda looked around, and then stood up, frowning when she could see your shadow.

Opening the tarp, she looked at you in a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"What do you want here?"

"I didn't come to fight with you." You let her know as you realize the tone in her voice. You bite your lips for a moment, and then sigh. "Damn, I missed you."

Wanda looks away, her cheeks reddening as she crosses her arms. You swallow dryly, ignoring your uncompensated heartbeat.

"Is this what you came for?" She asks half-heartedly, staring at the floor.

"No." You say. "I needed to make sure everything was okay, and I wanted to wish you good luck."

"Why do you care?" She hits back in defiance, and you roll your eyes.

"I'm still your friend, Wanda." You reply. "We fought, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore."

Wanda looks away again, and you switch the weight on your foot.

"Well, that was it." You say. "Good luck to you."

"Thank you." She mumbles without looking at you. When you turn around, her arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. Wanda rests her head on your back and sighs, and you recover from the surprise, caressing her hands resting on your belly with your thumbs. Before you can turn to correspond properly, she releases you. "Now get out of here before a teacher sees you."

You smile at her before walking away.

//-//

Wanda would confront a dragon. You think you're controlling yourself pretty well despite everything.

She was going to be the last to do so, but your heart was already racing from the moment Principal Harkness walked to the center of the Quidditch pitch and after making the general announcements, nodded toward the locker room area that had been enchanted so that the beast could hide inside. The next minute there were witches bringing a dragon into the stadium and the crowd screamed with excitement and fear.

The champions needed to capture the golden egg for the second task, and well, everyone was curious to know how they would do it.

Gamora handed you a small booklet, and you frowned when you realized that it was an enchanted betting chart. She gave you a little smile, waving to someone behind her, and you noticed that almost all the people were betting on the winners, and the game flyers were circulating around the stands. You felt your stomach turn as you watched the enchanted drawing of a dragon spit fire at the image of three witches. 

You ended up handing the flyer to Mantis and didn't bet on anyone, focused on watching the task.

Jean Grey captured the egg in fifteen minutes. She took on the Common Welsh Green dragon, and everyone was impressed to watch her use a mirroring spell to confuse the dragon about the true location of the golden egg. She finished the task unhurt, and unseen and you joined the crowd in cheering, watching her receive the perfect score.

Maria Hill was injured in her ordeal, but this certainly brought a lot more entertainment to the audience. She faced the Norwegian Crested Back, and tried to bewitch the dragon with a sleeping spell, but the creature awoke as soon as she reached for the egg. 

The audience screamed with excitement as the dragon began to spit fire everywhere, furious. Fortunately, Maria only had minor burns, as she was able to charm the beast again. Her score was lower than Jean's, but still high.

When Wanda's turn came, many of the Gryffindor students began to boo, and you clenched your jaw. 

You relaxed momentarily when Wanda looked around the audience, smiling at you before focusing on the creature in front of her.

"That one looks bigger than the other two, huh?" you grumble to Gamora with concern as you observe the beast in the center of the field. 

"Maybe he's more docile." She remarks, but it's not true, especially since the next second the creature roars ferociously as it notices Wanda approaching.

The Ukrainian Iron Belly moved his long tail around the field, the iron chains swinging as he did. Wanda was holding her wand, hiding behind a rock. You can barely hear the crowd with the ringing in your ears, your heart racing a thousand an hour in your chest.

As Wanda approaches again, trying to bewitch the beast, the Iron Belly roars, raising its tail in the air to strike her. You blink in astonishment as you watch a shield spell form around Wanda. She rolls across the field, faster than the beast, and runs to reach the egg.

She casts a spell on its snout that leaves it bewildered long enough for her to grab the prize.

On the way back, the creature wags its tail rapidly across the field, roaring with irritation, and hits Wanda in the back, throwing her a few meters forward.

"Y/N what are you doing? Put that away!" Gamora warns you at the next second. You blink in confusion, realizing that you have your wand in hand, raising it in front of you. Gamora lowers your hands, and because of all the commotion, no one else seems to notice. She looks at you with concern, but you feel your mouth go numb; you need to help Wanda.

"Let me go, Wanda needs me." You grumble pushing her hands away, and hurrying to get down from the bleachers. Gamora calls out to you but you don't turn around.

The test continues on the field next to you, but you have to look forward to get down, pushing people aside as you rush to catch up to Wanda, your wand vibrating in your fingers as the rest of your body.

Professor Heimdall stops you at the edge of the stands.

"I need you to focus on my voice, Stark." He asks as he places his hands on your shoulders. You gasp in surprise, trying to turn your head to look at the field, but the firm grip holds you in place.

"Let me go." You ask panting, a pain beginning to well up in your head. "Wanda is in danger."

"Look at me." He commands as he lifts his thumbs to your cheek, pinning your face to look at him. You stare at the yellow irises feeling your breath hitch. You need to help Wanda. But somehow, as the seconds tick by, the yellow eyes are all you can think about. "Pull yourself together. Can't you hear the celebration from the audience? Wanda has completed the test. She is safe."

You choke on the professor's words, feeling an urge to cry with relief. He keeps his expression serious, though.

"Pull it together. Keep your wand away." He commands. "Don't tell anyone about this, not everyone is your friend here."

"W-what?"

But Professor Heimdall lets you go, quickly taking your wand and putting it back in your cloak pocket. He looks around, and smiles at someone behind you. Only now you notice the celebratory noise around you, and you turn around. The crowd is descending, and Principal Harkness is announcing the final scores.

Your friends are coming toward you, happy and smiling. Professor Heimdall steps aside to join the teachers' group, and then you are being dragged with your friends to the center of the field, along with the rest of the crowd celebrating the end of the task. You hear fireworks and shouts of victory, but your gaze is searching for Wanda.

She is shaking hands with the Minister of Magic, Johann Shmidt, and you gasp when you catch sight of her. She has barely turned toward you, smiling and waving shyly when she realizes that you and your friends are coming to greet her, when you run toward her, throwing your arms around her when you reach her.

"Wow." She gasps in surprise, but hugs you back, chuckling softly. You don't let go, and soon your friends are hugging you two too. And they are laughing and celebrating, and you are holding back your tears, not understanding why the possibility of losing Wanda seems worse than death.

//-//

Things get better after the first task. After you left the Quidditch camp, you joined the celebration in the Slytherin communal hall, which was filled with people from all the houses.

All the students who had stood against Wanda before she defeated the dragon now seemed keen to become her friends, praising her and congratulating her on the way she killed the beast. 

You still don't understand what exactly happened, but Wanda used some spell that hit the creature in the heart, and well, killing the dragon earned her first place. The other directors were not happy with the judge's decision, but the rest of the school certainly liked it.

You are in the corner of the room, surrounded by your friends and Tony's friends, trying to stay sociable while ignoring how tired you feel.

"Why are you so quiet?" Gamora asks you softly, noticing your lack of enthusiasm to join in the explosive snap game that Quill has just suggested to everyone. 

"It's nothing." You lie forcing a smile. Professor Heimdall's words still echoing in your head. "I'm just not in the mood to party. I guess I'm sleepy."

Gamora murmurs in understanding, assessing your face for a few moments. But Nebula is pulling her sister over to look at the items Tony got on his last trip to Hogsmeade, and you don't join in the conversation. 

Your gaze searches for Wanda, who is locked in conversation with a seventh grader who has never spoken to you guys before, but seemed very willing to become Wanda's friend now that she has become a champion.

You were thinking of waiting until Wanda had finished talking to the girl to say good-bye, but then you felt irritation boil up in the pit of your stomach as you watched the older girl toss her hair to the side, her hand running up Wanda's arm, as Wanda gave her a wry smile. 

You really didn't want to watch Wanda flirting with anyone, so you hurried out of the dorm, hopefully everyone would be busy enough with the party to notice.

Outside, as you turned the corner, you saw something you didn't want to see.

Tony and Steve were kissing against a wall, your brother's hands inside the other boy's shirt. You let out a loud exclamation of shock, covering your eyes.

"God, get a room!" You complained loudly with your eyes closed, feeling your cheeks very hot. You heard Tony and Steve giggle, and waited a moment to open your eyes, only to find Steve very red, looking away, and your brother with his arms crossed.

"Don't be such a baby." He teased. "One of these days I'm going to find you like this."

You choke lightly, letting out an indignant laugh.

"Excuse me, but I don't want to hook up with anyone in the corners of the castle." You mumble in embarrassment, and Tony exchanges a look with Steve, letting out a chuckle.

"Damn, do girls go through puberty later or something?" He teases and you look at him wide-eyed. "I'm teasing you little sister, no need to freak out about it." He mocks as he pulls Steve by the sleeve, when he is walking away, he turns his head to you again. "Let me know if you change your mind, I bet Natasha that you were going to propose to Wanda this year!" He shouts before turning down the hall, leaving you behind with cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You figure you'd better get back to the dorm before you run into some teacher.

//-//

You have another nightmare during the night. As real as the vision you had during the quidditch cup. You see the graveyard and the red light, but this time, it is you who is attacking. You wake up in fright, but feeling absolutely exhausted, you go back to sleep almost immediately afterwards. This time you dream of someone holding your hand.

//-//

"Have you decided who you're going to ask to the dance?" It is the first question Gamora asks you during breakfast, and you choke on your pumpkin juice. She ignores your reaction and continues talking. "By the way, where were you last night?"

"I told you I was tired." You reply wiping up the juice you spilled with a napkin. "I went back to my dorm."

"You missed the best part of the party." She retorted excitedly. "Some Ravenclaw kids conjured up a fireworks dragon and someone handed out candy from Honeydukes to everyone."

"Sounds amazing." You grumble before going back to eating. Gamora looks at you expectantly, and you sigh, understanding that she is waiting for you to answer her first question. "I don't know if I want to go to the dance."

"You’re not going to the dance?" It is Wanda who asks as she arrives at the table. You almost choke again, but just roll your eyes at the insinuating look Gamora gives you as Wanda sits down. 

"Oh, she's just saying that because no one invited her." Gamora teases with an insinuating tone, and you try to hit her but she laughs as she moves away from your grasp.

"You know, you can ask someone if you want to. You don't have to wait for the invitation." Nebula then suggests, and you are surprised because she wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, a spell book laid out in front of her. "Unless you're afraid of rejection."

"What is it with you guys today?" You mutter irritatedly, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you observe the insinuating glances of the two girls in front of you. "Besides, why are you talking about invitations, Gamora? Who invited you?"

Gamora lets out a shy giggle, and then looks away. She nods toward Quill, and you let out a surprised exclamation.

"And you're just telling me this now?" You retort excitedly.

"You're the one who left the party yesterday!" She replies. "He invited me last night, and I was going to tell you, but you left without even looking back."

You roll your eyes with amusement.

"Are you really waiting for someone to invite you?" Wanda asks next, and you look at her, feeling your heart miss a beat. What the hell is going on with you lately?

"I... well, I don't know." You answer clumsily. "I haven't really thought about it.”

"But you want to be asked?" Wanda inquires and you swallow dryly. 

"I don't know, maybe."

"But if someone were to invite you now, would you like it?"

"I..."

"God, just ask her at once!" Gamora interrupts impatiently, causing you and Wanda to look at her wide-eyed. Nebula lets out a chuckle, without looking away from the book on your desk. Gamora gestures in Wanda's direction. "Sorry, girls, I just got a little carried away. Please, Wanda, continue with your embarrassing attempt to ask the dumbest person in this school to the dance."

You mumble clumsily, feeling your cheeks warm. Wanda giggles.

The brunette next to you pokes you lightly in the ribs, and waits for you to look at her again before speaking.

"Gamora's right, actually." She says shyly, and you feel your heart speed up. "All champions need to dance at the ball, and well, the first person I thought of asking was you." She confesses quickly. "But it's okay if you don't want to go..."

"No!" you interrupt quickly, feeling your face hot. You smile next. "I'd love to go to the dance with you, Wands."

Wanda looks at you for a few seconds, and you look back. Your stomach flipping with nervousness.

"I'm getting diabetes." Nebula comments next, breaking the moment. Gamora laughs, pushing her shoulder lightly against her sister as you and Wanda look forward uncomfortably.

"Stop it, they're adorable." Gamora hits back with a smile, you clear your throat, feeling embarrassed as you pretend to pay attention to the daily prophet lying on the table and not the presence of the brunette next to you or the comments of your friends.

//-//

Things go well between you and Wanda after that. The discussion you two had is long forgotten. You imagine that Gamora and Tony think that as you begin to help Wanda try to decipher the egg, that you have mentioned to her the connection you have been feeling, but you have not yet found the moment to speak up.

You told her about the other things, though. About the sky mark on the Quidditch canopy, and Tony's investigation of your father and the followers of Mephisto. Wanda was also surprised to learn that Howard and Erik had been friends in school days, but she knew as little as you did about all the issues. You felt bad for having accused her of hiding things from you, and bought Honeydukes candy to apologize.

And so time passed, and the day of the winter ball finally arrived.

To say that you were looking forward to it was an understatement. And you weren't the only one, as during the whole day, the vast majority of the students talked only about this.

Your prom outfits arrived the same day during breakfast. You had written to Jarvis to buy Gamora's and Nebula's costumes as well, and they were very happy to receive the dresses. Tony had a piece of toast in his mouth when you left his suit that arrived in the same package as yours on the table, before you turned to check your own outfit.

"It's very nice, isn't it?" You commented to Gamora as soon as you held out the material aloft. The girl let out a sigh of excitement.

"My god, you're going to look beautiful!" She exclaims, and then gives you an insinuating look. "In fact, you're already a cutie." She teases with a wink, making you laugh. 

"Good morning." Wanda said as she joined you, she widened her eyes slightly when she realized that you were looking at the ball costumes. 

"Great, you're here!" Gamora speaks to the brunette excitedly. "I want to see your dress!".

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

"It's in my room." She informs you as she sits down next to Gamora. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment, but when you notice, she deflects. "You can see it when we go to get ready."

The conversation eventually went in the direction of comparing outfits and forming combinations, and then you thought it best to put your clothes away before they got dirty with some of the delicious food from the breakfast.

//-//

You were a little surprised to hear that the girls were going to start getting ready for the ball as early as the afternoon, but you didn't object to joining them in the Slytherin communal hall, taking your costume package with you.

"Are you going to wear any makeup?" Gamora asked you as you all stood in the Slytherin dormitory bathroom, which had several girls in it. Fortunately the communal hall was the most luxurious in the entire school and had enough space for everyone. You were sitting on one of the sink benches, after showering and putting on your prom costume, waiting for the girls to finish.

"I don't know how to wear makeup, Gamora." You respond by looking at her. She smiles, looking away from the mirror to look at you. 

"If you want, I can help you." She says and seeing your hesitation, she smiles. "Only if you want me to, honey."

"I don't know." You say. "Maybe just lipstick."

Gamora laughs lightly, nodding in agreement. Nebula starts complaining loudly next, not being able to button the zippers of her dress properly, and Gamora gives a giggle, stepping aside to help her sister. 

"Stop moving." Gamora warns Nebula, and you chuckle at the scene. Wanda is coming out of the cabin she had come in from to put on her dress, and you feel your breath hitch when you see her. She is adjusting the straps and smiles shyly at the look you cast at her, and you do your best to cover it up.

"You look pretty." She comments as she approaches, looking at you for a moment before looking away to the mirror.

"You look beautiful, Wanda." You retort the next moment, half out of breath. Wanda smiles, her cheeks reddening as she keeps her gaze on her own reflection, fixing her hair.

"Wanda, help Y/N with her makeup, I think Nebula messed up her zipper." Gamora asks the next moment, pulling out her wand to concertize her sister's clothes, who fusses impatiently. You and Wanda share a giggle at the scene, but your giggle dies as Wanda approaches you, a lipstick in her hands. 

"I think this color suits your costume." She comments with a smile, opening the lipstick and lifting it to your face height. You feel your breath hitch, watching with slightly wide eyes as Wanda stands between your legs and touches your face with her other hand to hold you in place. "Stand still so it doesn't smudge."

You want to tell her you're not going anywhere, but she's putting the makeup on you in the next second. You keep your mouth ajar, trying to ignore the tingling sensation you feel on your skin where Wanda's fingers are touching, or the way your heart is racing. Wanda is concentrating on her task, and bites her lower lip as she puts on your make-up. 

"There you go." She whispers as she pushes the lipstick away from your lips, her gaze lingering on your mouth however. The dark glow in her irises makes your stomach do a flip-flop. You think Wanda is going to kiss you, because she is so close and her fingers are still on your chin, and you wish she would.

But Gamora lets out an exclamation of satisfaction as she manages to tidy up her sister's dress, and Wanda frowns, shaking her head slightly as she steps back.

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Gamora says as soon as she glances at you, making you smile awkwardly. You're feeling a little out of breath from all the interaction with Wanda, so you just keep your gaze on your own lap, waiting for the girls to finish the finishing touches. Nebula remarks something about a funny story in the Daily Prophet next and you get distracted.

//-//

You are a nervous wreck when you all reach the main hall. 

Gamora nods to Quill, standing in the doorway in his dark brown suit, looking very handsome with the tie that matches his eyes. He flashes her a contented smile as they greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. You see Pietro and Monica have entered the room as well, their arms intertwined. Darcy is right behind, accompanied by a girl you don't know.

You clear your throat, turning to Wanda as you stop at the entrance, but Professor Okoye catches up with you before you can ask if Wanda wants to come in yet.

"Maximoff, dear, there you are." Okoye announces sounding rushed. "The dance of champions is about to begin, I imagine you'll be the partner, right miss Stark?"

"R-right, professor." You reply and the woman nods in agreement, grabbing yours and Wanda's arm to drag you to a corner, where the other champions were already waiting. She hurried out the next moment, signaling to the students outside to come in that she needed to announce the start of the dance.

"Are you ready?" you ask Wanda ignoring the nervous feeling in your stomach. The brunette smiles, her hand slipping into yours and making your heart soar.

"I hope I don't stumble." She retorts with a shy smile, you think she looks absolutely stunning.

"Don't worry." You say looking forward, the other champions straightening up to get in line. "I won't let you fall."

//-//

You twist Wanda in your arms to the rhythm of the music, a laugh escaping your lips. This is already the fourth song in a row that you have danced to together, and the feeling is so incredible that you think you will dance all night.

Two more songs later, you feel thirsty and approach Wanda to tell her you'll get a drink for you two, completely oblivious to the way the girl's cheeks flush when you whisper in her ear.

At the drinks table, Gamora approaches you, her cheeks rosy.

"I just kissed Peter!" She announces and you almost knock over the punch.

"What?" you ask in surprise and your sister laughs, maybe from nervousness or excitement, you can't tell. "Did you like it?

"Sure." She assures you with a smile, looking pleased. You make a mental note to tease her about her blushing cheeks another time. "It was weird the first time, but the sensation is really good when you get the rhythm right."

You nod in understanding, not knowing exactly what you can add in this matter.

"And what are you doing here with me? Go kiss your boyfriend!" You tease next, smiling encouragingly and making Gamora laugh. She turns to leave, but then decides to tell you something.

"Don't forget to tell me how it was with Wanda. I think kissing a girl must feel different."

She then leaves, laughing lightly at your shocked expression. Your heart is racing because the only thing you can think about right now is the possibility of kissing Wanda.

Your gaze returns to the dance floor, and you feel your nervousness increase. Wanda dances timidly to the rhythm of the music, her hips swaying and her eyes closed. She looks beautiful. She is beautiful. Out of your reach.

You shake your head to push these thoughts away, and you take a deep breath before walking over to her again with the drinks in your hand.

//-//

After drinking and dancing to three more songs, the band finally changes to a softer melody, and you smile shyly at Wanda as you hold out your hand to her.

With your hands together, you hold Wanda around the waist, and she rests her free hand on your shoulder. She is blushing at the closeness of your faces, so she gives you a shy smile before resting her chin on the hand on your shoulder. You enjoy the proximity as you move slowly to the rhythm of the music.

You close your eyes, feeling quite good this way. In her arms. Peaceful.

When the music ends, it takes a moment for you to move away, your hands remaining together. 

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and then nods her head to the side to signal you two to leave. You bite your lips as she takes you by the hand to escort you out of the room.

You are too busy thinking about the feeling of your hands intertwined to worry about the path, and are slightly surprised when you end up in an empty room.

Wanda lets go of your hand as you enter. And you close the door as she walks inside. She stops walking when she reaches the teacher's desk, and turns around, leaning against the wood. You watch her twist the rings on her fingers nervously as you walk toward her. 

You stop at the desk in front of her, mimicking her motion of leaning against the wood as you risk a glance at her.

"What are we doing here, Wands?" You ask ignoring your heartbeat quickened by the tension in the air.

Wanda looks at you, pressing her lips together for a moment. 

"What do you think?" She retorts with slight defiance, and you bite back a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"You... you know we don't have to do anything just because everyone else is doing it, right?" You say, and Wanda lets out a short laugh, looking at you slightly impressed. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that's such a Gryffindor thing to say. Very chivalrous." She teases and you chuckle awkwardly, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, I am a hatstall after all." You mutter and Wanda frowns in confusion. You shake your head, briefly mentioning what the sorting hat told you in first year and drawing an impressed exclamation from Wanda.

"That's pretty awesome, you know, right?" she adds with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm pretty awesome indeed." You joke making Wanda laugh.

"Oh, there's the Slytherin part I see." She teases. "But I haven't found your Ravenclaw trait yet, are you sure you inherited the intelligence?"

You pretend to be offended for a moment with a grimace, and Wanda laughs, unconsciously or consciously stepping forward.

"Excuse me, but I am a very competent sorceress."  You argue smiling, ignoring the nervousness that grows as the proximity between you two increases. "Best charm student in the whole school."

"Oh, really?" Wanda retorts. "Last time I checked I had that position."

"It's okay, we can share first place." You assure almost in a whisper, Wanda is too close for you to think of adding anything else right now.

"There's the Hufflepuff." She says with a shy smile, approaching you one last time. You can feel her breath against your cheek, the emerald eyes fixed on yours. You swallow dryly, risking a look at the lips so inviting. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

"Not if I kiss you first." You breathlessly challenge, and Wanda smiles before moving forward, both of you closing your eyes at the same time as you meet her halfway.

Her lips were soft, just as you imagined they would be. You swallow hard, feeling your whole body heat up. You stood with your mouths together for a moment, before Wanda pulled away, her breathing uncompensated as much as yours, as your lips tingle. 

"Kiss me again." She asks hoarsely, and you move forward. This time it's even better, because Wanda's hands go to your neck and yours to her waist. And when she sighs, you ask for passage with your tongue, following your instincts completely.

The sensation is intoxicating, and sends a shiver through your whole body. Wanda tastes like cherry punch, and you gasp at the sensation of your tongues together, squeezing her waist lightly.

You parted for breath, keeping your foreheads together and your eyes closed.

"Wow." You exclaimed softly breathlessly.

"Yeah, I know." She agrees in the same tone, her hands coming down from your neck to squeeze your shoulders lightly. Wanda kisses you again, her tongue moving against yours slowly, exploring your mouth. You moan softly at the sensation and Wanda pulls away breathlessly, blushing due the sound she has managed to wring out.

"S-sorry." You gasp quickly, feeling your cheeks as hot as the rest of your body.

"Don't be." She says. "That was hot."

You let out a clumsy laugh, and Wanda copies, and the moment dissipates from palpable tension to humorous lightness. You kiss briefly before Wanda circles her arms around your shoulders in a hug that you reciprocate equally.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" You ask when she breaks the embrace, but her hands remain intertwined behind your neck. 

"Not really." She replies with a smile, biting her lips as she looks at you. " I just came to be with you."

"Oh, yeah?" You ask with slight teasing, and Wanda lowers her gaze to your lips.

"Hu-huh. And now that I have you, I don't want to let you go."

You smile, lifting your hands to her neck, caressing her nape lightly as you kiss her again, not as intensely as before, and with a smile on your lips.

When you pull away, Wanda is smiling too.

"Don't worry, Wands. I'm not going anywhere."

//-//

After the ball, there is a new tension in your relationship with Wanda that makes you lose focus on anything other than her. 

Gamora missed no opportunity to tease you about this. And every time she caught you casting passionate glances at Wanda, or the other way around, you got a wry comment to get a room. It was harmless, but it made you and Wanda both blush like tomatoes.

The best change was the kisses. 

They could happen suddenly, or be almost planned. Wanda liked to take you by surprise, you could tell. Stealing firm kisses between corridors that made you blush and clumsy, or kisses when you spent time together with your friends, and her hand slipped into yours. 

You loved all the kisses she wanted to give you. But you had your favorites. The ones that happened when you were alone, and all you could think about was Wanda. They were usually planned, because to have free time, without friends, you need a little organization. So they usually happened when you went to Hogsmeade together, or when you helped her study for the tournament. It was amazing to finish a study session with Wanda's mouth on yours.

But you knew you still needed to talk to her. You were afraid you would lose the kisses if you did.

As the date for the second assignment approached, Wanda began to get anxious, because you all still hadn't deciphered the golden egg clue.

At that moment you were in the Slytherin communal room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with many books around you. Wanda was lying on the couch, a book enchanted to be at her eye level. Gamora and Nebula in the armchairs, also reading. You are trying to find some clue to decipher the egg.

"We've tried the basic open and close spells, right?" Gamora asks without taking her eyes off the book, probably reading about what she mention. 

"Of course." Wanda replies. She sighs in frustration the next moment, taking the enchanted book off her face, and closing it in her lap. You move your hand to hers, trying to reassure her. "I need to figure this out soon, because the task is in a few weeks."

"We will." You tell her with a smile.

"Just out of curiosity, what happens if you don't break out the clue?" Nebula asks and Wanda sighs.

"I won't have any idea what the second task is about and I won't know how to prepare."  She replies. "And then I'll lose and be humiliated in front of the whole school. Feel free to drown me in the great lake if that happens."

Wanda's dramatization makes you all laugh, but then you get an idea and your expression fades. Wanda, who was watching you, looks at you curiously, but you are already getting up, hurrying to get the golden egg that was on the couch.

"What are you going to do?" Gamora asked, as curious as the other girls. You walked over to one of the aquariums and held the egg up high.

"Sorry, folks." You said to the fish, and then opened the clasp. The shrill noise filled the room, but before the girls could complain, you dipped the egg into the water and the sound stopped.

You leaned forward and could hear the low melody.

"I can' believe it." You grumbled contentedly, and then dipped your head into the water. Your friends looked at you with wide eyes.

"Has she finally lost her mind?" Nebula sneered at the other two.

When you surfaced again, you had a smile on your face.

"Girls, it's the merpeople!" You counted excitedly. "That's the clue. I can't believe we stared at the great lake all this time and didn't come up with this idea."

Natasha entered the communal hall next, and when she saw your wet torso, she frowned.

" Should I ask...?" She began with mild irony, watching you take the egg from the aquarium and return to the couches, the water dripping all over the hall.

"She just deciphered the egg!" Wanda warned contentedly, and when you approached, she ran her hands down your neck and gave you a lingering kiss, and you almost dropped the egg on the floor.

"For merlin, get a room." Nat teased before Gamora could do it, and you and Wanda parted with giggles.

You used the wand to dry your body and the floor, returning the egg to Wanda. Nat sat down in one of the free armchairs.

After you finished cleaning up, you repeated the lyrics of the song to them. 

"Does that mean you're going to be underwater for an hour?" Nebula questioned in surprise to Wanda, and the girl sighed.

"I guess so." She replied thoughtfully. "And now I'm going to need to figure out a way to do that."

"If you were an animagus, you could turn into a fish." Nat mocked making the group smile. 

"I thought you'd have a better resistance to holding your breath, Wands. Since you're kissing all the time." Nebula added and Gamora and Nat laughed, while you rolled your eyes awkwardly, and Wanda raised her middle finger at the girl, her cheeks flushed.

"Let's focus, please." Asked the sorceress in front of you, embarrassed by the teasing.

"Yes, yes." Gamora agreed, gesturing. She settled herself in the armchair before speaking again. "I think you could use some plants. I'm sure Mantis must know some herb that will make you breathe underwater."

"Speaking of Mantis, where is she?" Nat asked and you turned your head in her direction.

"She has private lessons with Professor Heimdall, Tasha." You explained. "Of divination. She's pretty good, I think."

Nat murmurs in understanding, and Wanda says she will talk to Mantis about it when she is free. You gather up the books, and decide to spend some time playing chess and drinking tea now that you no longer have to worry about unraveling the egg.

//-//

You miss many opportunities to tell Wanda about your connection with her. That's because you have too many moments alone, between conversations and make-out sessions, and you just don't tell. And the feeling of keeping something from her corrupts you inside, but you bear it.

And then the date for the second task comes, and you're a nervous wreck, and Wanda doesn't understand why you're especially affectionate this morning, but she's not complaining.

Mantis got some kind of plant for her, which would give Wanda enough time to stay submerged as long as necessary.

You and the girls had also practiced swimming in the great lake with Wanda many times since the day you discovered the clue. And the vision of Wanda in her swimsuit was still preserved somewhere in your mind.

"Have you seen Pietro anywhere?" Wanda asked annoyed, looking around as you all had breakfast. The vast majority of the school was already on their feet as well, excited for the start of the task.

"I last saw him last night, after we went to Quidditch practice." Quill counters distractedly, passing jam on one of the toasts. 

"You two had worked things out, right?" You ask as you are sitting next to Wanda, she nods and then sighs.

"I think so." She mumbles. "I wanted to see him before the task."

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing how to help her. It was already time to leave, and you hoped that Pietro wouldn't be so stubborn to stay away from his sister on this day. You kept your hand intertwined in Wanda's all the way, trying to assure her, and she was very grateful.

The clue was right after all. The whole school was carried to the middle of the lake through the boats, up to huge iron bleachers that were conjured up during the night. 

"You look so cute in that uniform." You comment in Wanda's ear before bidding her farewell to go up to the bleachers, talking about the Slytherin competition uniform, and smiling at the way her cheeks redden. "Be careful, Wands."

"I will." She assures before kissing you. She joins the champions and you look at her one last time before going upstairs to join the rest of the students.

When Principal Harkness announces the start of the task, after explaining that an important treasure had been taken from the champions and they would need to find it in the lake, you stand with your body tense with nervousness, clenching your hands on the railing as you look down.  The whistle sounds and you hold your breath as you watch Wanda dive in. 

"Hey, are you going to be okay?" Gamora asks next to you, placing her hand on top of yours on the metal. You swallow dryly, looking away from the lake to her.

"I will." You say trying to force a smile. "As long as she does."

Gamora looks at you a moment, assessing your face.

"I'm sure Wanda will be fine." She says. 

You nod, looking down again. Now all that was left to do was wait.

//-//

"Did you hear what Tony just said?" 

You blinked a few times. You were in the circle with your friends in the bleachers, and you got distracted again by looking at the lake. Everyone was anxiously awaiting the return of the champions to the surface, talking among themselves and placing bets on the winners. Tony's friends joined in as soon as the task began.

"Sorry, Gamora." You say. "What?"

"Natasha is missing too." She says and you frown in confusion looking at the rest of the group. 

"What?"

"Pietro and Tasha, Y/N." Gamora says. "Tony just said they were supposed to meet last night, but she didn't show up. And no one saw her, just like Pietro."

You didn't know exactly what to make of that, but when you looked at the lake, you frowned.

"Gamora, you don't think that..."

"That's exactly what we're thinking." It is Tony who speaks now, looking at your expression and deciphering the idea that has gone through your head. "I just talked to the Durmstrang guys. One of their boys vanishes at night too, I think he's Grey's best friend."

You widened your eyes, and then leaned on the railing, looking down. Tony and Gamora mimicked your position.

"That's insane." Gamora commented, and you nodded in agreement.

"What happens if the champions lose the task?" Tony asked and you shook your head, not liking the possibility.

"I'm sure Professor Harkness wouldn't let anything bad happen." You say. "Right?"

Gamora and Tony murmur in agreement, and you find that your words were more to reassure you than to reassure them.

//-//

With thirty-eight minutes on the clock, Jean Grey emerged from the lake. And she was not alone.

The crowd started cheering as she and Scott Lang, as Harkness announced, swam out of the lake. Reporters from the Daily Prophet were also taking several pictures, and you noticed the Durmstrang flags in the hands of some students.

Your friends seemed reassured to see Scott's condition, deducing that Pietro and Natasha would also be fine. You only felt more nervous because Wanda was still at the lake.

Twelve minutes after Jean, it was Maria Hill's turn to step up. The crowd celebrated as they watched the remainder of her transfiguration into a shark before she returned to human form, bringing Nat with her. You and your friends rushed downstairs to Tasha, but you barely caught Gamora's teasing about the redhead being the treasure of the foreign student, as your gaze was on the lake while you were on the edge.

"Ten minutes to the end of the second task!" Announced one of the judges loudly, causing the crowd to cheer. You felt your stomach drop. Where was Wanda? 

And then you saw her. But only inside your head. 

It was another vision, and you felt your body go cold as if you were in the lake. It was dark and blue, and you couldn't breathe properly.

Then you blinked and were back in the stands.

With a sob, you jumped into the lake.

Immediately, as soon as you did, the crowd and the teachers looked at you with shock, but you dove in the next.

It was very cold.

The lake was as dark underneath as you thought it would be. And you were gradually running out of air as you sank, but you didn't care. You needed to find Wanda.

When you began to lose consciousness, you thought you saw a light, and struggled to swim a little further. But then your air ran out completely, and you passed out.

//-//

You woke up in a jolt, feeling like you were drowning. 

But you were warm, and lying on a soft surface. It took you a few seconds to realize that it was the bed in the infirmary.

The warmth came from the comforter at the level of your neck, clearly bewitching judging by the way it shimmered softly.

"Hey." It was Wanda. At your side. Safe. 

You moved out of the covers quickly, your hand reaching for hers on the bed.

"Hey, how are you feeling? You didn't get hurt did you?" The questions escaped your mouth faster than you even thought about them. Wanda had a frown on her face, but she squeezed your hand back and with the other she touched your face, and you leaned into the touch, feeling your body relax.

"I'm fine, I promise." She assures. "I just don't understand why you did that."

"Did what exactly?" You ask confused, trying to remember how you ended up in the infirmary. Had you hit your head somewhere?

Wanda looks at you with confusion.

"Jump in the lake." She clarified. "Why did you jump in the lake after me?"

You blinked in surprise, giving a short laugh.

"What are you talking about, Wands?" you asked. "I was watching you. Are you sure I didn't fall? Maybe I hit my head and..."

"You don't remember?" She interrupts in shock, and then lets out an incredulous sigh. "Okay, now I'm even more worried."

You were feeling your head aching, and you rubbed your fingers over the tip of your forehead a moment, before sighing.

"What happened to you in the task, anyway? You were gone long." 

Wanda looked away from yours, biting her lip.

"It was nothing." She grumbled and you frowned.

"Wanda..." You started. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." She retorted snidely. But when she looked at you, she didn't keep her gaze and you sighed, letting go of her hand and throwing yourself back on the bed, feeling frustrated. "I just don't want you to think I'm weird."

You frown at the statement, turning your head to look at her again. Wanda takes a deep breath before confessing.

"I've been having visions in my head." 

You think you can laugh at the irony of the facts. Wanda takes advantage of your lack of reaction to continue explaining.

"S-started last year. I... I don't know what they mean, but sometimes they make me too distracted. And well, I had one during the task, and I got lost. So it took me a while to find Pietro, but I was fine." She recounts. "You didn't have to jump in the lake and..."

"I saw you." You interrupt half breathlessly. "In my head. I... I thought you were drowning." You recount recalling, feeling a slight pain deep in your eyes. "It was dark and I felt like I was being pulled under."

Wanda's eyes widen.

"I fought with Grindylows down there for a moment." She says. "They tried to pull me to the bottom, and well, it was quite despairing, but I managed to take them on. It was right after I got lost."

"R-right."

Both of you are silent for a moment, your breaths slightly uncompensated as you try to understand exactly what it all means. You clear your throat deciding to break the silence.

"Wanda, what happened to me?" 

"You almost drowned." She says lowering her gaze to the bed. "I found you on the way back. Unconscious." Wanda counters with watery eyes. "For a moment I thought..."

She sighs softly, controlling the urge to cry by shaking her head slightly and forcing a smile. You feel horrible for worrying her like that.

"Heimtall and Strange jumped into the lake a little later behind you. I guess everyone thought you were playing tricks, but when you didn't climb back up they realized something was wrong. I was trying to carry you along with Pietro when they caught up with us."

"Come here." You ask opening your arms and Wanda climbs on the bed, sinking against you. You both immediately relax from the embrace, and you close your eyes as Wanda buries her face in your neck, running her hands behind your back.

"Please don't ever do anything like that again." She whispers against your skin, and you swallow dryly. Judging from the facts, you can't promise her that.

//-//

Your friends came to visit you in the infirmary too. You had a short episode of hypothermia, so Nurse Cho wanted you to rest and had let only Wanda stay to see you. Everyone had agreed that you would like to see her first. 

Tony told the teachers and judges that he had dared you to jump in the lake, and even though your friends didn't understand why Tony didn't want the adults to know what was going on with you lately, they all backed up the story.

You and Tony ended up with a month's detention for this.

The only relatively good thing about this whole story was that you and Wanda shared the same experiences. You told her about your visions and nightmares, and she told you about hers. Visions of red lights as her powers, and masked witches. 

You talked to Wanda about your connection on a rainy Thursday in May. You both were on your bed in the dormitory, a few spell books between you to finish the lesson Professor Stephen had passed on, and Wanda was concentrating, the strands of brown hair falling down her face as she bit the end of her pencil and read the words in front of you. She was beautiful, and you were in love. And you could no longer hide it.

"I need to tell you something." 

Wanda looked at you with a mildly surprised expression, but smiled, shifting on the bed to look at you.

You watched her expression go from confused, to embarrassed, and then to worried in a few seconds after the words "There's something weird going on with me. I think I'm magically connected to you, and I'm not just talking about liking you" came out of your mouth. And then you told about the way you felt every time you thought of her in danger, and Wanda swallowed dryly, looking away.

"I don't know what to say." She confessed clumsily, and then clasped her hands to her face for a moment in frustration. "Shit, I have no idea what that means."

You sighed, reaching out to reach for her hand on the bed. Wanda watched your fingers together, and you frowned as her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm putting you in danger, aren't I?" She asked in a whisper, and you looked at her with confusion, but she didn't wait for you to speak. "I'm talking about the lake. You almost drowned to follow me. What happens if I get hurt?"

"Wanda..."

"No." She interrupts forcing a smile, and releasing his hand. "Do you realize how dangerous magical connections can be? What happens if, I don't know, the third task is even more dangerous? Will you throw yourself in front of some other monster? How far does it go? I don't want your life to depend on mine!"

Wanda stands up, babbling nervously about things that might happen, and you look at her in surprise, standing up as well. You try to touch her shoulder, but she pushes your hand away.

"Do you even know if you really like me? If it isn't just because of the magic?" She accuses and you take a step back.

"Don't say that." You retort starting to feel irritated and hurt.

"No, I mean it." She repeats in a whiny voice. "How can you be sure your feelings are real? It could just be the magic and.... "

"I am in love with you." You interrupt, but Wanda just shakes her head in disbelief, letting the tears flow. When you try to touch her again, she sobs and pulls away. "Wanda, I really am. Please..."

"Stop." She gasps as she pulls further away. "Just stop." She asks and you hold yourself in place, feeling your face wet. Wanda takes a deep breath, wiping away her tears. "I need time. I don't...I don't know what to make of this right now."

You swallow dryly, looking at her in shock.

"I don't want us to end." You say and Wanda just sobs softly, shaking her head.

"I can't stay with you without knowing if what you feel for me is real." She retorts in a voice hoarse from crying, but her gaze doesn't flinch. Your stomach turns the wrong way, because you feel terrible. "I need time to think. And I can't think with you by my side."

"Wanda..."

"I'm sorry." 

Then she left. And you let the tears flow freely. 

//-//

Tag list> // @sxfwap​ // @table57​ ||@imapotatao​ / @aimezvousbrahms​/ @ensorcellme​/ @helloalycia​@mionemymind / @abimess​ / @stephanieromanoff​ / @yourtaletotell​ / @tomy5girls​ / @justagaypanicking​ / @thegayw1tch​ / @idek-5​ // @myperfectlovepoem​ // @helloalycia​ // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam​ // @olsensnpm​

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

[queenshelby]

Foreigner – Peaky Blinder Fanfic

PART ONE – WAY BACK HOME

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Angst (don’t worry, Smut is coming in the next part for you dirty minded people)

Words: 3462

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

Your Story

It has been 8 years since you left Birmingham and embarked on a journey to the US with your parents. Your brother was killed by Arthur Shelby, after having stolen from the Lee Family and getting involved in your father’s business.

It wasn’t your brother’s fault that he resorted to stealing. In fact, it was all he had ever known since he has been a young boy. He was stealing to feed you and your mother while your father was preoccupied interfering with Thomas Shelby’s gambling business.

Over 8 years ago, your father was employed by the Shelby Family to fix races but, at the same time, he was trying to skim money from their forged winnings and it wasn’t long after your brother’s and father’s actions had come to the attention of Thomas Shelby that a war emerged between your family and the Shelby gang.

The war was bitter and a threat made by Thomas Shelby against your father’s life caused your family to flee to a safe haven offered by your aunt Esme Bortelli in Atlanta.  Just like you and your parents, your aunt was gypsy. But, she made a deal with the devil after her first husband had passed away from Spanish flu.

Her second husband was no other than Luigi Bortelli. Luigi had a direct affiliation with the North Italian Mafia in Atlanta. He enjoyed the dangers in life. Handling and dealing with cocaine, heroin and alcohol, which, at the time, was prohibited in the US.

Luigi was shot a few years ago by police along with his brother Pepe while collecting a shipment of cocaine from the port of Atlanta. Following Luigi’s death, your aunt Esme took over the family business and dealings with the North Italian Mafia. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t taken serious by some of her suppliers. It wasn’t common for a woman to be in this kind of business. Your father became her assistant, taking shipments and dealing with suppliers on her behalf. Nonetheless, it was her all along who pulled the strings.

The business ran smoothly for several years until, one day, a dispute occurred between the Sabini family and yours. As a result, your mother was shot in your family home by Sabini’s men. Giovanni Sabini resided in the UK and was Darby Sabini’s brother. He had family in the US which operated a rival gang importing the same products as your aunt Esme. After your aunt Esme ignored several of Giovanni’s demands to cease dealings in the area and accept shipments from the UK arranged by the Changratta family, he sent his men to send a message and kill Esme’s sister (your mother).

Esme and your father soon declared war on Giovanni Sabini but, your family’s local men turned against Esme as word came to them that Sabini had turned on the Changratta Family and, as a result, Luca Changratta was killed in Birmingham and the Peaky Blinders took over the supply of alcohol and cocaine to Atlanta exclusively to Giovanni Sabini’s men. This caused the Sabini family to gain greater power within the Atlanta area, much to the disadvantage of your aunt and the North Italian Mafia.

Your aunt Esme saw only one option to rectify this issue and replenish her standing within the North Italian Mafia. She sent your father back to Birmingham to make Thomas Shelby an offer he could not refuse, namely an alliance between the Peaky Blinders and the North Italian Mafia, guaranteeing exclusive supply to the entire West Coast.

Since you had become interested in the family business over the past few years and your aunt had taught you a lot about her supply and trading operations, you demanded that you join your father during his trip to Birmingham. Whilst your father had grown fearless and calculating, you were smart and practical which is just what your aunt Esme needed in order to represent her business.

Unfortunately, whilst your aunt was suspicious of your father’s recent behaviour, what she didn’t know was that he had a very different plan of his own. He wanted revenge on both, Arthur Shelby and Giovanni Sabini, even if it would cost him his own life. For this reason, your father was against you joining him on this journey. You were his only living child.

But, aunt Esme demanded that you join him and so you went.

‘Watch him and his men and report back to me’ were your aunt’s words as you left the port of Atlanta.

Back in Birmingham

After a three day boat journey, you and your father arrived in Birmingham along with several of his men.

Three of your men were questioned by border security upon their arrival. Fortunately for them, aunt Esme’s men in Birmingham had already made pay offs and you were escorted to your hotel.

Birmingham has changed a lot since you have been there last. Most factories, bars and residences were owned by Shelby Company Limited and even the hotel you were staying at was owned by Thomas Shelby.

You never met anyone from the Shelby family. Your father and older brother both worked for the Shelbys for many years until conflict emerged between them. Nonetheless, during this time, your father shielded you and your mother from these dealings. He always said there is no place for women in this business. It therefore comes as a surprise that your father works for aunt Esme now.

You know that your aunt does not trust your father. She always tells you that your father is a danger to himself and you have begun to believe it. His anger and hate has taken over in the last few months and that is why aunt Esme has sent you.

As you finally arrived at the hotel, it became clear to you that Shelby family already had tabs on you. A note from Thomas Shelby was left at reception for your father. It was an invitation to a charity event.

‘Smart’ is what you thought when you read it. Thomas Shelby obviously doesn’t know whether or not he can trust your father. What better place to discuss their business could there be than a public event where your father and his men cannot strike against him. After all, most men in Birmingham work for the Shelby family in one way or another.

Your father, however, was not impressed with the invitation and liaised with two of his men. A message was to be delivered to Thomas Shelby at the Garrison. You only ever heard of the Garrison in conjunction with your brother’s death. This is where he was killed just over 8 years ago by members of the Lee family. But, despite this, you recalled your promise to aunt Esme, to keep an eye on your father and his men.

Shortly after the two men had left to the Garrison, you sneaked out of the hotel.

The Garrison

‘Excuse me sir, how do I get to the Garrison?’ you asked the delivery driver who was delivering Gin to the hotel you were staying at.

‘The Garrison? This is really no good place for you Love’ the delivery driver said.

‘I have business to attend to at the Garrison. I am new in town and am looking to promote a new type of champaign to all of the establishments in the area’ you explained.

‘I don’t think you are going to have much luck at the Garrison Love, but I can take you there after I finish unpacking these. It’s my next delivery stop’ the man said.

‘Thank you sir, I much appreciate it’ you said as you climbed into the man’s truck.

The drive was less than 10 minutes and after you gave the man a couple of pounds for his troubles, you climbed out of the truck and went inside the Garrison while keeping a careful lookout.

The Garrison was full of drunk men, some steel factory workers and some men nicely dressed in suits.

Unfortunately for you, you could not see the men your father had sent. You carefully removed your hat and ordered a glass of whiskey.

‘Top shelf please sir’ you said as you sat down at the quite end of the bar. To your surprise, the bar tender didn’t question you or your choice of drink. It wasn’t common for women to drink in establishments like this. In fact, it was prohibited.

You decided to stay for maybe ten or fifteen minutes to see whether your father’s men would turn up. You took a careful look around every two minutes or so but the men couldn’t be found.

There was, however, one man who caught your eye. He was incredibly well dressed for a place like this and accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman. It was obvious to you that the woman wasn’t his wife. In fact, she looked just as much out of place as you did.

His eyes were blue like the sky on a sunny day in Atlanta and his hands were perfect, clean and masculine as if they had been crafted by an artist.

You couldn’t stop starring at him. His charisma was almost overwhelming.

It wasn’t long until he noticed you too. His eyes gazed over to you several times, much to the dislike of his female companion.

His looks were intimidating and you didn’t know whether he noticed you starring at him or whether he had taken an interest in you. Probably the earlier, considering that he was obviously much older than you.

After 15 minutes had passed and you felt surprisingly awkward in this man’s presence, you quickly finished your drink and decided to call it a night. You did not think that your father’s men were going to appear any time soon and it was getting quite late.

As you left, you noticed two drunk men following you.

“Ey Love, how much for the both of us?” one of the men said as he followed you.

‘In your dreams’ you said with laughter as you turned around for a brief second as, all of a sudden, the man grabbed your wrist.

‘Feisty… I like feisty girls’ the man said as he pulled you closer towards him while his acquaintance approached you and ran his hand over your blouse.

‘Fuck off and leave me alone’ you responded angrily and with some ignorance towards their actions.

‘Oh, you like it rough love?’ one of the men shouted in return while the other pushed you against the wall.

You tried to reach for your gun which was pinned to your left upper leg as, suddenly, you heard a gunshot from near the entrance to the Garrison.

It was a dark and foggy night and you couldn’t see much more than a shadow of a man approaching you and the attackers.

‘The lady said that she wants to be left alone’ another man said from the distance while pointing a gun at the attackers.

‘Piss off man’ one of the attackers yelled in a rather drunken tone, ignoring the first gunshot that had already been fired by the mysterious man.

Suddenly, you heard a second gun shot and a loud scream from one of the drunk men right beside you. He had been shot into his left knee and was in agony.

‘The next time I will aim higher’ the gunman said as he approached you closely, just before the uninjured drunk man scrambled and ran off, knocking you down onto the gravel in the process, while the other man began pleading for his life.

‘I am… I am very sorry please. I won’t…It will not happen again’ the man said. The tone of his voice was frightened and you could tell that the men knew each other.

‘I will not see you and your friend at the Garrison again, you understand?’ the gunman said angrily before allowing the injured attacker to leave.

You were lost for words. This mysterious man may have just saved your life.

Getting to know the Stranger

‘Are you alright, Miss?’ the man asked as he put away his gun and reached for your hand to help you up.

‘Thank you, I am fine’ you said quietly.

As you looked up towards the mysterious man you noticed that he was the man you had seen before, at the bar, with the beautiful blonde lady by his side.

With thoughts racing through your head, you almost didn’t notice that your legs were shaking and you had an awful pain in your left knee.

‘You are bleeding’ the man said, but you barely noticed the red staining on your white skirt. It was like you were hypnotised by this stranger.

‘Common, lets get this sorted out for you, ey?’ the man said with a caring voice and, without further words, you followed his lead back to the Garrison.

The Garrison was still as busy as when you had left and no one really noticed you walking in.

‘Bring us some bandages and whiskey. Top shelf, two glasses’ the man said before guiding you to a private room next to the bar.

‘Thank you for your help but I am fine, really’ you said to him as he pulled out a chair from beside the table in the middle of the room.

‘If you do not get this cleaned out, it will get infected. Now sit down love’ the man instructed as the barmaid brought bandages and a bottle of top shelf Irish whisky with two glasses.

The man poured you a glass of whiskey and handed it to you. Without words, you took a hasty sip knowing that, what was about to follow, would hurt. Your mother used to clean out your wounds with whisky on numerous occasions after you had fallen off your bicycle, just not as expensive as the bottle that was standing on the table right in front of you at this moment.

Without warning, the man kneeled down in front of you and lifted up your skirt just above your knees. He poured a good amount of whisky onto your wound, which caused you to clinch your teeth and some tears escape from your eyes. He then used his handkerchief to carefully pull some pieces of gravel and broken glass from your knee before wiping the wound again with some more whiskey.

‘So, tell me, what brings a girl like you to a place like this? You are clearly not from here’ the man asked as he wrapped your knee up with a bandage.

‘Business’ you clinched as you grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and poured yourself another glass while the man finished bandaging you up.

‘Business?’ the man asked surprised as he sat down opposite from you while lightening himself a cigarette. ‘What kind of business?’ he added.

‘Export of products to the US’ you said carefully. You didn’t know who this man was so you didn’t want to reveal anything that could be of detriment to you or aunt Esme.

‘Now that is interesting’ the man said with a grin before taking a short pause. ‘Let me guess, you want to export alcohol to your country because of the prohibition’ he added.  

‘What makes you think that?’ you asked carefully with a little pretend chuckle. It was not your place to discuss matters like this and you were surprised that he caught onto you almost immediately. Could he read you, you wondered, and regretted saying anything at all.

By this time, you were quite intimidated by this man and were contemplating to leave. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be rude. After all, he had just saved you from an attack.

‘What else could you possibly export from Birmingham to America? You manufacture machinery, vehicles and weapons yourself. This means you have no need for them. You are after something you cannot get where you are’ the man said as he leaned back into his chair.

‘Let’s not talk about business’ you said nervously. You felt as though you had been cornered.

‘Alright…let’s talk about something else’ the man said before pausing again. ‘Maybe let’s start with your name. What is your name?’ he added.

‘Y/N’ you said.

‘It is nice to meet you Y/N…’ and, before the man could introduce himself, another, older man stormed into the room.

‘They fucking got him, we need to move now’ the man yelled.

‘I am sorry Y/N, I have one of my drivers take you to wherever you are staying’ the man said before storming out of the room and grabbing two guns from behind the bar. With him were several men and all you heard was yelling and cars driving off within moments after.

Family Confrontation

A young man came into the room and introduced himself as ‘Finn’.

‘Apparently, I am your driver’ Finn said rather annoyed. ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.

‘Renaissance Hotel’ you answered.

‘Alright, then let’s go’ Finn said in a haste.

This was an abrupt ending to an eventful night and the drive back to the hotel was rather quiet. Finn didn’t speak a word with you, not a single one.

As you approached the Hotel, Finn wished you a pleasant night before racing off. Your guess was that he was going to join the others for some kind of fight.

It appeared to you that life in Birmingham wasn’t so much different to life you knew in Atlanta. Violence, gangs and conflicts. It all was the same.

‘Y/N, what the fuck did I tell you?’ your father shouted at you as you entered the penthouse suite.

‘Father, I am not a child anymore. I can look after myself’ you said.

‘What is this, on your knee? Your skirt is full of blood’ your father asked worryingly.

‘I fell. It turns out that heels do not go well with all the horse shit on the streets here. A nice man at the Garrison helped me to get bandaged up. It is not a big deal’ you explained, not wanting to admit that you had gotten in to trouble.

‘The Garrison? What the fuck did you do at the Garrison? This place is dangerous, you hear me Y/N?’ your father said angrily.

‘I am keeping an eye on your men, something which you have obviously failed to do as they weren’t there’ you answered, causing your father to raise his hand at you.

‘Careful Y/N. This business is not for you and I wish that your aunt would learn to understand this. Get yourself cleaned up’ your father said before walking away.

And, so you did. You ran yourself a nice warm bath, knowing exactly that it will hurt, but this was exactly what you needed. Sometimes pain makes you feel alive and there has been a lot of pain in your life in the past eight years.

Your mother never got over the grief of losing her son while your father never gotten over his hate for the Shelby and Lee family. Your aunt Esme was the one who took you in, who ensured you were educated and who had confidence in you.

Being in business with her was something you wanted. You both felt that change was needed and the success that came with the business was something that gave you satisfaction. You were running her accounts for the past two years and you knew how lucrative this business was. But did your father care about it? This was always something you were wondering about.

‘Perhaps these questions and thoughts were for another night’ you said to yourself as you poured yourself a glass of whiskey and climbed into the warm bath.

It stung terribly but soon the pain went away and all you could feel was the warmth over your body.

Your mind soon drifted off into more pleasurable thoughts about the man you had met tonight.

You only ever had been with one man before and it didn’t take long for him to bore you. That being said, he was barely a man at all. He was the same age as you and studying to become lawyer. There was no adventure and no intensity. But, this man you met tonight, who was a fair bit older than you, he appeared to be far from being boring. There was some kind of intensity in his eyes, it was almost hypnotising. His voice was calming but yet intimidating and the thoughts that appeared about him in your mind were unfamiliar to you. They were intense. They were pure pleasure.

You kept wondering who this mysterious man was and whether you would see him again.

[dubersbutt]

4 Times Leon Joined You and Connor

+ 1 Time He Stayed

Summary: How you, Leon and Connor became a thing

Warnings: smut (oral (female receiving, male receiving, penetrative sex), mlm sex (blowjobs)), sexuality crises (sexuality procrastination)

1) The “Accidents”

Leon gets your text message a second too late. The notification with your name and “DON'T OPEN MY SNAP” hanging above the picture of your scantily clad torso, matching royal purple set, the deep colour complimenting your tan skin. Leon is torn between wanting to be respectful and wanting to keep the picture open until he can get himself off. But, he’s a good dude so he does not do the latter. Instead, he closes the snap and texts you back

Leon: Whoops. I didn’t get your message until after I opened it

You: Ugh. I’m sorry, your name is right under Connor’s and my finger slipped.

Leon: Aren’t you supposed to be at school.

You: Stats are boring. I was trying to bother my boyfriend.

Leon: Pay attention in class, (Y/N).

You: 🙄

You: You can keep the picture btw. I know I look good

You: No face, no case

Leon doesn’t keep it but, his finger hovers over the replay button for far too long.

~~~

Leon’s furnace craps out on him halfway into the season, and Alberta winters without heaters isn’t very enjoyable so he temporarily moves in with Connor, the day of the charity gala. Leon has a good time for the most part. Except -

He can’t get that fucking picture out of his head. And your dress hugs you in all the right places and he really hopes that neither you or Connor notice that how often he looks over at you. Connor has to rub elbows with the rich donor more than Leon does, so he keeps you company in between rounds. The two of you keep yourselves entertained by comping up with potential conversations for the other people in the room.

“Leon wait,” you say, clutching his arm and Leon feels his heart skip a beat, “That girl is his daughter, not his sugar baby.”

“No,” Leon was convinced, they were sitting way too close if that were true, “How do you know?”

You point to an older lady that’s approaching the table. She leans down to give the man a quick kiss and Leon’s about to propose a potential mistress until he realizes the girl looks like a younger version of the older woman.

“Shit,” he says and you look at him with wide eyes, “We’re going to hell.”

“We totally deserve it too.”

An hour later, Leon is excusing himself from a conversation with Klefbom and an older lady. She hardly notices, her attention has been focused on Oscar the whole time. Oscar tries to get him to stay but Leon thinks her not-so-subtle flirtation is hilarious.

He laughs when he gets the “I’m gonna fucking kill you” text from Oscar on the way to the bathroom.

Leon: I don’t like being the third wheel

Leon: Make sure she’s not married, klef. You’d be a terrible mistress

Oscar: I would be the best mistress in the history of mistresses.

When Leon opens the door to the bathroom he’s met with the sound of moans. He supposes he should have shut the door right then and there but he opens it all the way without realizing. He’s met with the sight of Connor fucking you on the sink. Your nails are digging into his back as Connor fucks you. He’s frozen for a moment, can’t remember how to move his limbs until you meet his eyes. He’s fairly certain you smile at him but he’s also convinced he imagined it. He replays your moans and tiny whimpers in his head.

He’s not even surprised when he wakes up the next morning and the girl next to him looks a little like you when he squints.

~~~

A week later he’s coming home from a run, the weather had warmed up enough for a short 15 minute jog before he had to pack for the California road trip. He lets himself in through Connor’s garage door, taking off his snowy boots in the mudroom. He takes his earbuds out, pocketing them when he hears -

“I - fuck, don’t tease me.”

Not again.

Now, Leon is kind of annoyed. He texted Connor that he was on his way home, had given him ample time to move to his bedroom. And Leon has to pass the living room to get to the guest room.

“You’re such a brat,” he hears Connor say and the next thing that comes out of his mouth is a loud groan.

Leon has to start packing, they need to be at the airport in an hour. He tries to make his appearance quick and minimal but he meets Connor’s eyes. He mouths, sorry as he picks up the pace, but Connor doesn’t seem to mind. His face is flushed, and his chest is rising and falling quickly. Connor winks at him. Winks.

When he finally makes it to his room he slumps against the walk, leaving the door open a crack so he can hear Connor’s moans. He can’t help it anymore, he pulls the waistband of his pants down, gripping his dick. He has to bite down on his hand to keep his moans at bay. He cums in unison with Connor, using his moans to guide him to finish.

He stands there for a moment, hands sticky with cum listening to Connor praise you through the crack in the door.

~~~

Leon doesn’t make a habit of picking up men during the season. You can never know who's secretly a hockey fan wanting to sell Leon’s bisexuality to the tabloids. Hell, only like 4 people on the team knew. But Anaheim doesn’t have a huge hockey presence so he takes a chance. He gets out of team movie night under the guise of an upset stomach.

Instead, he Ubers to the nearest gay bar. The place is pretty packed when he gets there. He orders a drink and notices a floppy haired blond guy across from him. He’s a little too scrawny to pass as Connor, but Leon’s not asking for perfection. He asks the bartender to send over another of whatever he’s having before he makes his way over to him. Not-Connor’s name is Josh, and they hit off right away.

Soon, Leon’s pushing not-Connor up against the bathroom wall, grinding against him. Not-Connor gets down on his knees and sucks Leon off. It doesn’t take long until Leon’s shooting down his throat with a hand in his thick hair. He starts to get down so he can reciprocate, his jaw is gonna kill him tomorrow but he’s not an asshole, when not-Connor stops him.

“If you want, we can go to mine and you can fuck me,” he says, biting his lip.

Leon’s already forgotten his name, but he says yes anyway.

Not Connor is really fucking flexible, letting Leon hook his legs over his shoulders when he fucks him in missionary. They stop for a quick snack in the kitchen before Leon bends him over the counter and fucks him until tears form in the corner of his eyes.

Leon’s half an hour late for curfew, but no one says anything to him.

2) The Vacation

Don’t get him wrong, Leon is always honoured to be invited to All-Star weekend. However, if he had the choice of being interviewed for two days straight or sitting on a beach in california for a week, he probably wouldn’t put too much though into his decision.

But, he still had 4 days of vacation in Palm Springs with the team before he and Connor had to leave early. Connor had asked him if he wanted to split the cost of the penthouse suite, and because Leon’s room was on the other side of suite as yours and Connor’s room, he said yes.

They left for California as soon as their last game ended, leaving them too tired to party the first night, choosing to order room service instead. Leon gets a plate of honey garlic chicken wings, 12 of them to himself, spaghetti, and a slice of cheesecake because, fuck it, he’s on vacation.

When it arrives, he snatches the plate of wings before Connor could take one, he had a bad habit of saying he didn’t want stuff and then asking for a few bites. Normally, Leon doesn’t care but he’s been craving wings for weeks. Why did he choose the career with the strict diet regimen?

“You’re really not gonna share?” Connor asks, eyebrow raised.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ and sinking his teeth into his second one.

“You have 12!”

“No one was stopping you from ordering your own.”

Leon feels your eyes on him. He assumes it's because he’s foregone any and all manners. The sticky sauce on the wings coat his fingers, he can feel it in his beard but he does not care because they’re so good. He doesn’t care that he’s gone full barbarian-

“Leon do you want to have a threesome with us?” you ask and Leon chokes on a piece of chicken.

“What?” He nearly drops his wing, “Right now?”

Connor’s groans and runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, “This is not how we said we would ask him.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t explain it,” you giggle and gesture at how he’s hunched over his wings, “but this is doing it for me?”

“Really?” Leon asks incredulously and Connor looks at you in disbelief.

“I wish I could say it didn’t.”

Leon squints at you and Connor, “You’re serious about this?”

“Yeah,” You both respond.

“We’ve been discussing adding a third,” Connor asks, “We were going to ask when you weren’t beasting a plate of wings - I admire your ability to eat during a conversation, by the way - but someone can’t keep it in their pants.”

You shrug, taking a bite from your burger.

Leon contemplates it, eating his 8th wing in the meantime.

“Sure,” he says, starting his 9th, “But not tonight. I don’t feel sexy after I eat spaghetti.”

You laugh, “Leon, if you had to choose between only sex or only food which would it be?”

“Food,” he says with no hesitation, or regrets.

~~~

The next day Leon spends baking in the sun. Everybody had decided to spend the day in the attached private pool in the suit. He chirps Connor when his skin starts to burn about an hour into the day and pokes at his red shoulder when he joins Connor under the umbrella.

By the end of the day Leon is pleasantly tipsy, saying goodbye to the team as he lounges on the couch. When the door shuts, you settle yourself in his lap. Your skin is warm from the heat.

Your sheer white swimsuit coverup has been driving Leon insane for the past two hours the team has been in the suite. Although, seeing you in your bikini, watching the water glint off your tan skin as Connor splashed you with the water, was far worse.

“Hi,” you hum, leaning in, “You still down for this?”

“Of course.”

You kiss him, letting out a groan as you do so. Leon rests his hands on your thighs, and when you don’t rebuke him he slides them up, dragging your cover up with him. His fingers toy with the band of your suit bottoms. He pulls away from your mouth, instead kissing along your jaw, scraping his beard against your skin gently. Normally, he wouldn’t be so bold, but, when you first started dating Connor, he told Leon that he started to grow his beard out because you enjoyed the scratch on your skin. He pays attention to the places that draw tiny gasps or moans from you, noting them for later.

“I should have known that the two most impatient people in my life wouldn’t wait for me,” Connor says, holding your jaw to kiss you. Leon doesn’t miss the way your body goes limp against him when Connor’s fingers tighten ever so slightly.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sub,” Leon hums, pulling your cover up all the way over your head. “She’s not,” Connor interjects, helping Leon with his task, “She’s a brat, but she’s pretty.”

“You’re mean,” you respond, “Should we move to the bedroom?”

Connor pulls you up, off his lap. Leon thinks that he’s just going to lead you, but Connor picks you up. You pull him closer with your legs, grunting as Connor settles you and starts walking to the master bedroom. Leon has to stop himself running after you.

Leon takes two minutes to get there, stopping for a quick glass of water. Two minutes is all it takes for Connor to fuck you from behing. Leon takes a minute, scanning his eyes over the two of you. Connor looks over and winks at him and Leon gets that same pang in his heart again. He stops, and you let out a whine in protest, pushing your hips back against him.

“Take her mouth,” Connor says, nodding towards the empty spot on the bed.

“For the record, I’m not thrilled that you’re bossing me around,” he says but obliges, pulling his swim shorts off on the way there.

He gives himself a few pumps before you reach over and take over, “You can put your hand in my hair,” you say, before you wrap your lips around the tip.

Connor’s hand slides along your spine, lightly dragging his nails as you start to bob your head, taking Leon deeper each time.

“Should we link arms in true Eiffel Towel fashion?”

~~~

Leon thought it was going to be a one-time thing, but the next morning he wakes up with your throat on his dick, and he can hear the shower running. By the time Connor’s back in the room, you’re cuming on Leon’s cock as he spills into the condom.

“You asshats,” Connor says, water dripping down abs, “I leave for five minutes.”

“You take the longest showers known to man, Con,” you tease, accepting his kiss.

That day the team planned on going to go sightseeing, but Leon makes the excuse of finding a girl at the hotel bar last night. Connor says that the two of you are going to take advantage of the empty penthouse. And you do. The next day, during the team hike, the three of you lag behind the rest, too exhausted to keep up.

~~~

Leon thinks that when they land in San Jose for the All Star game, that it’s the end, and he’s almost sad about it. But at the end, Connor and him get the same snap. You lifting up your McDavid jersey to reveal a lacey, navy blue bodysuit. The V dips tantalizingly low, Leon wants to lick the exposed skin and feel your body squirm against his as he teases you. He and Connor change faster than Leon thought was possible, and soon he’s upstairs in yours and Connors room. Connor fucks you first, not giving you quite enough to cum as he finishes, filling you. As Leon’s rolling on the condom, Connor’s whispering in his ear - don’t let her cum.

So Leon fucks you  slowly. Holding both of your hands in one of his palms, he takes his time. His thrusts are rhythmic, as he grinds into you, watching your face contort. He rubs your clit, feeling the way you clench around him. He pushes you to the edge and waits  before pulling out entirely. He rests his dick on your stomach, pulling off the condom as he cums on your stomach.

3) The Dinner

Connor gets sick from the WEM signing in February. (Whoever decided to have the Oiler’s star player do a fan signing with a thousand people in the middle of flu season needs to be fired but that’s besides the point.) Because of this, he can’t go to the Nuge’s team bonding dinner but he insists that you still come, the other girls would miss you.

So you go, and you press up against Leon every once in a while during drinks. At dinner, you sit next to him, keeping a hand on his thigh at all times. Your hand moves onto his inseam as you spoon risotto into your mouth. While Nuge and Bre are handing out deserts, you lead him down a hallway.

“Hold on...aha!” you push open a door, leading to a guest room. The bed is made, and there’s a picture of Nuge’s dog on the bedside table. You turn the picture down, “I don’t want Sophie to see what we’re about to do.”

“(Y/N), What about Connor?” he asks. Leon has spent the night with you and Connor multiple times since coming home, and he’s fucked you many times but Connor’s always been there.

“Connor doesn’t care,” you say, pushing him down on the bed, “He said it was fine. We can FaceTime him if you want.”

Leon doesn’t think you’re lying, but he does enjoy watching Connor bite his lip as he watches Leon fuck you from behind. He’s got a terrible angle, can’t really see much but just the sounds of you and Leon make him groan into the phone. You end the cal with a quick “I love you.”

“You coming over tonight?” you ask when you and Leon finished getting dressed.

“Obviously.”

Everyone’s tipsy enough that they hadn’t noticed the two of you were gone.

When Leon comes over that night it’s the first time he gets his hands in Connor. He’s just finished fucking you - he’d quickly become the one to call the shots when he was around - and Connor was watching him pound into uou with wide eyes, fists clenched at his side like he was told.

Leon had spent a number of nights with you and Connor by now, but he figured Connor wasn’t into men so he didn’t push it. But this time it was different, he didn’t know why, but it was.

Leon knee-walks over to him, planting his legs on either side of Connor’s thighs. He doesn’t kiss him, doesn’t know if that’s too much, but he slides his hand up the length of them.

Giving a handy for the first time is always a little bit awkward, Leon actually has to pay attention to what they do and do not like, but with Connor it’s easier. It’s still a little awkward, he accidentally squeezes Connor’s base a little too hard and he crumpled against him, but it’s significantly better.

(Later that week you’d have a conversation with Connor.

“You know I don’t mind if you wanna do stuff with Leo when you’re gone right?”

“What?”

“If you want to. You don’t have to but you seemed like you really enjoyed Leo’s hands the other day. Not that I blame you for that.”)

4) The Roadie

Leon isn’t expecting anyone to knock on his hotel door. He’s surprised when it’s Connor there. He’s antsy, cracking his knuckles.

“Hey,” he says, furrowing his brows at Connor’s uneasy demeanour, “everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” Connor replies, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Do you wanna come in?”

“Wh-oh yeah sure,” he stutters like he didn’t realize that he was still outside.

Leon lets him in, and Connor walks to the chair on the other side of the room, but doesn’t sit. Leon eyes him as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“So I talked to (Y/N),”  Connor starts.

“And…” Leon prompts.

“She said that if we wanted to mess around together on roadies then that’s fine with her,” he takes a deep breath “andivebeenthinkingaboutitandiwannatrymaybebutivenever-”

“Woah woah woah,” Leon stops him, “You’re going to have to repeat that way slower.”

“I was thinking that, if you’re down, then maybe I would be willing to try it?” he trails off at the end.

“Connor?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Maybe,” Connor takes another deep breath, “I mean I’ve never done anything with a dude before, but I kinda liked it the other day. But like, only if you want to.”

“We can fool around on roadies,” picking up is so much work, Leon would love to have a steady side piece - even though he doesn't have a main piece, “Since when were you into dudes.”

Connor rubs a hand over his face, “Don’t start with me. I’ve been having an ongoing sexuality crisis for a while. I love women, (Y/N) especially, but we’re tabling this conversation for, like a year.”

“Just one thing,” he says, finally sitting down on the bed next to him, “I don’t want you to….fuck me just yet.”

Leon wants to laugh, Connor’s so straight that it hurts, “Gay sex isn’t like straight sex, there’s a process. And, I don’t want to brag, but if I were to fuck you, you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week and you’re kind of important to the team.”

“So...you’re a bottom,” Leon teases, poking him in the shoulder.

“I think so? Obviously I won’t really know until I try it but I see the appeal….what are you?”

Leon does laugh at that, “ I usually top but I don’t mind taking it every once in a while.”

Connor nods, which Leon finds adorable. The last time Leon dealt with any kind of virginity was when he was losing his own (both times), and he’s kind of excited.

Connor leans in, kissing Leon softly. Leon pushes against them, hand coming up to card through Connor’s hair. A few moments later, he pulls away.

“What’s the verdict?” Leon asks.

“Your beard feels weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird,” Leon didn’t have a 5 step beard oil routine for it to feel bad.

“Good weird.”

Leon hums in approval. Connor leans back in, and this time Leon pushes him down on the bed and Connor lets him. He lets Leon trail kisses down his neck, chest heaving off the bed once Leon gets that spot at his jawbone that drives him crazy.

“You good?” Leon asks as he lowers himself between Connor’s spread legs. Connor nods, “If you’re uncomfortable, tell me and we stop.”

He takes Connor’s dick out of his shorts, only mildly surprised when he realizes Connor’s not wearing any underwear. He licks his lips as he starts to jack him off. Connor lets out a breathy moan as Leon drops his hound to the base of his cock a with a gentle squeeze. Leon leans forward, sucking on the head gently as he watches Connor’s face turn red. Leon bobs his head down, taking more down his throat each time. Leon digs his fingers into Connor’s hips to keep them down.

“Easy, baby,” Leon murmurs, not realizing the nickname was on the tip of his tongue until it had slipped out, “It’s been a while, you’re gonna have to give me a second before you fuck my throat.”

“ ‘M sorry,” Connor says, panting.

“It’s okay, Con,” Leon responds, reaching for Connor’s  hand and placing it in his hair.

“Fuuck, Leo,” Connor grunts when Leon starts to suck on his head.

Leon finds a good rhythm, bobbing his head low and hollowing his lips as he comes up. Connor is groaning, Leon should probably tell him to keep his voice down given that they’re surrounded by the team but he doesn’t care.

Leon drops his dick, until the very tip of his cock, and sucks. Connor grunts, thrusting up into Leon’s hands before Leon starts to slide his hand up and down quickly, bringing Connor to the edge.

“Close,” he pants, “I-close, Leo, plea-”

Leon sinks his head down one more time before Connor hits the back of his throat. He sputters a little as Connor keeps spilling into his mouth. He feels a little bit dribble out, and when he finally pulls off, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“How was that?” Leon asks, tucking Connor’s soft dick under the waistband of his shorts.

Connor has a hand thrown over his face, and his only answer is a groan. Leon can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I know my head game is strong.”

(Connor tries to give Leon a blowjob, but he gets a little too ambitious and chokes a few bobs in. Connor sputters and coughs, and Leon can’t help but chuckle as Connor grips his thighs, trying to catch his breath. He wants to try again but Leon stops him.

“You’ve done a lot today, you can try again later if you want to.”

“No, no I can do it.”

Leon explains that he doesn’t want Connor to bite his dick and Connor relaxes, giving him a hanjob instead. His pressure is a little light, so Leon wraps his hand around Connor’s and guides him until Leon finishes all over his stomach.

(Connor hesitantly runs a finger through the mess, before slowly raising his finger to his lips. He scrunches his nose in disgust. “Drink some pineapple juice, ugh.” and Leon laughs)

Connor leaves shortly after, and Leon definitely doesn’t replay the moment over and over again in his head.)

+ 1) The One Time he Stayed

When Leon pulls up into Connor’s driveway, he’s expecting the usual: play with Lenny, threesome, play with Lenny, dinner, play with Lenny, maybe round two, decide if he wants to drive home at 3 am (the answer is most likely no).

However, when he shows up Connor isn’t even home, which is not normal. Lenard throws himself at Leon when he walks through the door, knocking him down on the floor.

“One of these days he’s gonna be successful in his assination attempts,” you joke from your place on the couch.

“There are worse ways to die,” he says as he gets back on his feet, this time ready for Lenny’s high energy. Eventually Lenny decides Leon is not worth his time, padding off to his bed by the fireplace, so Leon sits by you on the couch.

“Watchya reading?” he asks, poking you in the side.

“My textbook detailing the different types and phases of psychosis,” you say,  capping your highlighter.

“Hm,” Leon grunts, “Uplifting.”

“Very,” you place the book on the coffee table, “So Connor was telling me about your hook up on the roadie.”

Leon’s heart stops, “Connor said it was okay and you seduced me at Nuge’s so I assumed-”

“Leon, relax” you cut him off with a chuckle, “I’m not mad.”

Leon lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“And I did not seduce you at Nuge’s.”

“You led me down a hallway I’ve never been in just to have sex with me in their guest bedroom,” he raises an eyebrow, “that’s the definition of seducing.”

You mutter something that Leon can’t decipher under his breath which he knows means that he’s won this argument.

“Anyways,” you say, clearing your throat, ““Connor was gonna be here, but he had an appointment and now he’s stuck on the Henday but he’ll be here soon. We were talking and we were thinking, only if you wanted to, that maybe you could join us...as a couple.”

Leon isn’t sure he understands your proposal.

“What?”

“Would you like to join me and Connor as a third?” you ask, “If you don’t want you can leave before Connor comes home and we’ll never bring it up again.”

~~~

Later that day, when Leon is falling asleep with Connor on one side of him using his chest as a pillow and you’re on his other side tucked against him, he’ll think about what a strange road it was to get here. Connor’s already asleep, listening to Leon’s heartbeat as his head rises and falls on with Leon’s breath.

“So was this always the plan?” Leon asks when he feels you tracing something on his skin.

“Hm?” you question.

“Was this all an elaborate ploy to get me to join you and Connor?” he clarifies, “Because if so, kudos because I never expected.”

“No,” Connor mumbles against Leon’s chest, turns out he wasn’t asleep, “We didn’t expect to ask you to join us more than once in California but you’re too damn cute.”

“I never thought we would because I didn’t think Davo was into dudes,” you say, “We get any closer to an answer on the sexuality thing, Con?”

“We’ll get there when we get there.”

[mcheang]

Lila doesn't know that Luka is Juleka's brother so she tries claiming that he is a delinquent and a bad influence on Marinette.

Gossip report

One day when Lila was leaving school, pondering on how to steal Adrien from Kagami, she spotted Marinette talking to a boy with blue hair and a guitar.

He was obviously older and definitely cute.

Nearby two girls were whispering about how lucky Marinette was to have this senior student asking her out.

Well, Lila certainly hates it when the spotlight isn’t on her.

Later that day, while hanging out with the girls (because Marinette was definitely out on a date), Lila tried to be the one to start the gossip chain.

Lila: hey girls, I don’t want to alarm anyone but do you think Marinette will be fine with Adrien off the market?

The girls exchanged shrugs. “She’ll be fine. She’ll move on.”

Lila feigned concern. “That’s what i am worried about. I think Marinette is so heartbroken, she’ll give her heart to anyone who gives her the time of day. I just saw her after school talking to some high school dropout.”

Pause.

Juleka: what did he look like?

Lila: he had blue hair, rode a bike (let them think it’s a motorcycle) and wore grungy clothes. *gasp*

Alix: and what makes you think he’s a bad influence?

Lila saw her pink hair and quickly backtracked on looks. “I could tell by his face. He looks so smug, arrogant and sneaky. The kind of boy you see smoking and dealing with drugs.”

Juleka: I see...

Lila: so you see, we must interfere on Marinette’s behalf, before his claws are in too deep.

Or at least they will because everyone knows Marinette will never listen to Lila.

Juleka was using her phone and at last found an image of Luka, alone at one of his favorite rock concerts. The background was dim and he was making faces for the camera.

Juleka: was this the boy you saw?

Lila: that’s him! What do you girls think? Delinquent or what?

Mylène: i think you should give him a chance. Don’t be deceived by appearances.

Lila: trust me! I’m a good judge of character. This boy is bad news. He’s the type of guy who ends up in jail and drunk.

Rose decided to intervene. “He’s also Juleka’s brother.”

Oh....

Alya: maybe you should check your facts before you go spreading rumors.

Lila’s brain: hypocrite!

Lila: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I just got so worried for Marinette.

Mylene: we understand Lila. But Luka’s a genuinely sweet boy.

Rose: all the girls at his school like him

Alix: he’s a real artist, in a musical way

Alya: he’s a member of Kitty Section and the songwriter of their songs

Juleka: and he’s a great judge of character. If he doesn’t like somebody, we don’t like him. It’s a band thing.

Lila sweatdropped. “Oh. Well I can’t wait to make his acquaintance and get to know him better.” Maybe she could make Marinette look bad to him and he could tell Kitty Section?

Alya: no worries. Luka’s taking Marinette back here for guitar lessons

Lila: great (at this line, even I can’t tell if she is sincere or not)

Luka and Marinette arrived on his bike. His travel worn jacket and ripped jeans hardly a cause for alarm. Beneath his bright blue hair were darker, soulful eyes.

The moment they stepped through the door and saw Lila, Marinette predictably scowled and Luka surprisingly flinched.

Before Lila could start charming him, Juleka beat her to it with a request to help him keep his bicycle. (As if. Their boat was cluttered and he could have dumped his bike anywhere.)

The moment they were alone, sister asked brother. “What was her music?”

Luka winced. “Loud. Very loud. Like fire alarm loud that you can’t hear anything else.”

Juleka: she sounded like a fire alarm?

Luka: no, she sounded like screechy violins. Like a novice attempting to be Mozart on her first try, and in vain.

Juleka nodded, worry wrinkling her brow. “I understand.”

Juleka headed back to the group and clapped her hands. “So sorry everyone. But it’s time for a band meeting. So everyone who isn’t Kitty Section, I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave soon.”

Alix: no worries. I can meet up with Nathaniel at the museum.

Alya: and I have to be at a date with Nino anyway.

Mylène: I’ll go call Ivan over.

Lila frowned, correctly assuming Luka didn’t like her and told Juleka. “Is it because of me? Does Luka doesn’t like me?” Cue crocodile tears.

Juleka quickly reassured her. “No. No. He just isn’t used to Italian music, and he’s been very cautious about creating music since Bob Roth. So only band members are allowed.”

Lila: but why isn’t Marinette leaving with us?

Marinette: i have to see them to perform to think of what costumes i have to design for them.

Lila’s brain: darn, she has a legit excuse.

Lila: please, can’t I stay?

This time it was Rose who spoke. Kindly, but firmly. “Sorry Lila. But this is strictly band business. Besides, aren’t you meeting with the president’s daughter online soon? To discuss charity options?”

Lila hid her rage. “Right. Thanks for reminding me.”

As Lila expected, and to Marinette’s surprise, for the rest of the afternoon, Kitty Section warned the rest of their class not to trust Lila. Alix and Alya were already suspicious about her since she tried to malign Luka, and his reaction just confirmed it.

Alya finally fact checked her work and took down Lila’s interview, apologising for posting false information.

Nino told Adrien, who already knew. Nino warned Adrien to tell the truth next time because tabloid gossip is different from deceiving friends.

The next day at school, Lila didn’t bother to show. When Caline reported she was ill, the class finally told her she was a liar and is probably lying now.

Caline: do you have proof?

Alya: yes! And if she’s been lying about Ali, she’s been skipping school for months.

Caline finally became serious. “Well then I shall have to contact her mother.”

Alya smirked. “As Vice President I already sent her an email (double checking the embassy website) asking for confirmation if her daughter had really been in Achu for months. Because after her lie about being Ladybug’s best friend (I attached the video link) and her claims of being Prince’s Ali’s buddy, I am skeptical of her claim to be in Achu for all that time.”

Caline’s frowned deepened.

But as it turns out, Caline needn’t have called Mrs Rossi because she dragged her daughter to school to see the principal after she opened her company email and saw the video. Her colleagues told her what was up and even how her own daughter had been akumatized more than once.

It’s a shame they didn’t get to see the scolding happen. But Mrs Rossi forced Lila to tell the whole class the truth. As Lila had been missing so many classes, Kim pointed out there was no way she could graduate unless she took summer school and make up classes.

Lila protested she already saw the online video lessons.

But Mrs Rossi corrected that Lila wasn’t just going to graduate, she had been expelled for tampering with official documents.

Lila sulked and accepted her fate.

Mrs Rossi reminded her daughter that it was worse than she thought because no school would accept a pathological liar with a record for truancy except the ones prepared for such misbehaving cases.

Alix snorted. “Karma! She called Luka bad news and now she’s heading for a school for troubled kids.”

Indeed, Lila’s new school life was miserable. She couldn’t skip without someone finding her and dragging her back to a class that would laugh at her and an unsympathetic teacher. And where everyone knew of her condition, nobody believed anything she said. Her mother won’t even believe her when she reports she is being bullied. Not when the teacher didn’t think calling Lila a liar is bullying, especially when she keeps coming into class with fake doctor notes, painted blood, self-inflicted scratches, and loose bandages. Seriously, bullying is seriously monitored. Beyond the name calling, nobody actually harms Lila because she always tries to harm herself anyway.

She is like the class jester, giving them a free show. And the punishments for actual bullying are so severe that nobody dares do it.

[sakura-83]

Things from Anne with an e that I feel like writing down

Season 1 Episode 7: Wherever You Are Is My Home

⚠️WARNING!!!⚠️ this episode not only talks about suicidal thoughts but also a character trying to commit such acts, of you are sensitive to this I suggest you just skip this post or at least skip #75-77

1. Anne calling it comforting that no two snowflakes are alike, as well as calling snow a sign of gods forgiveness as he blankets the dead world in a beautiful frost

2. Josie gossiping about her while she’s RIGHT THERE

3. Her and moody just talking

4. “And I love Christmas, don’t you?” “I don’t know, but I plan to.” “Did you not have Christmas at the orphanage?” “There wasn’t much to it really. I’m not sure why Father Christmas wasn’t able to stop there, maybe the matron scared him off.”

5. “Do you at least know if they’re going to keep you?” “Keep me!?”

6. Anne trying to sing with the others but the other voices quickly fading out as she panics and rushes home

7. “They’re not going to send you back, you’re in the Bible and everything!”

8. Marilla has every right to be angry that Matthew rushed their home without even discussing it

9. “I knew you’d lose your head-“ “Oh, I oughta smack yours right off your shoulders!”

10. Matthew is prone to heart attacks, the very same thing causing his death in the books

11. “He’s had an episode of the heart” just a funny way to say heart attack, sort of long winded

12. Marilla not understanding the complex math because she had to leave school when she was young

13. Anne helping her with it because she’s top of her class

14. “Not keeping you? You’re a Cuthbert, for better or for worse! No getting out of it now.”

15. The awful bank not relenting on the payback schedule despite the fact that Matthew cannot work. Corporations are cruel and ungiving despite the human struggles and needs of its clients and it hurts. I know the bank invested that money and they need it back but Matthew was indisposed by a tragic event and to not only not extent but to SHORTEN the payback schedule is just unfeeling

16. Marilla putting out an ad to the mainland to take in borders

17. The terrifying idea that you must sell everything you have in order to survive

18. Marilla being desperate yet still too prideful to accept charity

19. The fact that it not only effects the family but also Jerry, as they can’t afford to pay him. It puts him out of a job and lowers his families income

20. A reoccurring theme I love in this show is the idea that the characters will give up their belongings, no matter how sentimental, in the name of family. Matthew selling his dead brothers watch, Marilla selling her grandmothers brooch, Anne selling the dress of her dreams, all because no matter how important these items are, they are just things. That family is more important, so even though it pains you to have to give those things up, you do it in the name of love for others

21. “Theyre just things.”

22. Anne feeling sorrow and yet being excited to stay at aunt Josephine’s

23. Despite being told she can keep the dress, Anne insists on selling it back because it’s a family effort

24. Anne being exited for a solo adventure and then getting stuck with jerry

25. Jerry has to be there to get money Anne his family is hungry :(

26. “I don’t actually need your help.” “When’s the last time you drove a sleigh? Auctioned a horse? Let’s go.”

27. Diana giving her things to sell as well

28. Jerry knows how to drive a sleigh?????

29. “It’s not so bad to ask for help sometimes, y’know?” “If I needed help I would say so.” “No you wouldn’t.” “Yes, I would.” “Wouldn’t.” “Would! Times infinity.” “What???”

30. Jerry singing in French

31. “No singing. I mean it. I’m serious, Jerry! This is an important journey! I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BEAR HANDS!”

32. Jerry grinning as she gets madder

33. Anne bring mystified by the dress shop

34. “I’m here to return a dress.” Is something wrong with it?” “Not a thing.” “Do you not like it?” “It is my very favorite thing that I have ever possessed in life. But I need to return it to help my family.” “You’re Anne, Matthew’s Anne!” “I am! How nice it is to hear it said that way.”

35. Anne being upbeat until Jeannie asks what’s wrong and then ask just breaks down

36. Poor Jerry waiting outside in the snow for her

37. Either Matthew spent some much money on Anne’s dress or Jeannie gave her extra, or both

38. “Did Matthew really spend this much?..” “You’re worth a lot to him.”

39. “I hate to say goodbye…” “😏 I won’t be so long~” “To the HORSE, Jerry. Why are you so annoying.”

40. “You’re a good horse Birdie, try to remember that. Someone will be very lucky to have you.”

41. Birdie really is a beautiful horse though

42. Anne’s little “my parents are spies” act she uses on the pawn broker

43. The pawn broker is so understandable rude because of his profession, it makes him equally annoying and funny

44. “What a piece of work you are.”

45. Anne is so good at making up stories on the spot

46. “If you can’t afford it I completely understand.”

47. I love how snide remarks of “being a good Christian” are frequent and effective insults in the 1800’s

48. Poor Jerry doesn’t just get beaten up and robbed, he gets brutally beaten by two grown men and there’s nothing he can do despite that being… his last paycheck. That was the last income he was going to give his family and he’s so ashamed of himself that he keeps apologizing for it despite most of the money being his. He apologizes to Anne, to Matthew, it bothers him for months to come

49. Gilbert’s back!!

50. “Still seems unreal. Even though I just sold all our… everything.”

51. “He’s a good man.” “I love him with all my heart. I don’t know what if do if…”

52. Them arguing over not arguing

53. Anne apologizing

54. “Anyway…” “Anyway..”

55. I genuinely didn’t realize that the men who beat up Jerry are the same men that took in borders at green gables, I got the same face blindness as Jerry himself

56. “I’ve missed you.” “Yeah?” “At school, theres.. no one to compete with.” “”You want to spell out a few words for old times sake?” “How about… truce?”

57. Jerry thinking Gilbert was going to hurt Anne and take her money and immediately jumping in to stop him despite swaying on his feet

58. When Anne asks him if he’s okay he immediately starts apologizing about the money

59. “I don’t like the city.”

60. “Just take care of yourself, and come home someday.”

61. Anne and Gilbert staring at each other quietly

62. “This is a palace, not a house.”

63. Jerry assuming that they’ll make him sleep in the stable instead of inside the massive house

64. “I’ll look after belle.”

65. “This city is rife with ruffians!”

66. Aunt Josephine insisting on helping

67. Matthew lamenting his own life, talking of how his life insurance will give them a sizable sum and how he drags them down despite them needing him

68. “Anne loves you, you have to remember that.” “But her future…” “Which do you think she would choose, this house or you?”

69. Jerry bring terrified to stay in a room by himself because he’s always had his family around him

70. Anne making room for him only for him to sleep upside down

71. “Don’t worry, I don’t kick like my sisters.” “Yeah, you’d better not.”

72. “Everything will be alright. It’ll be alright..”

73. Aunt Josephine helping by paying for Jerry to work at Green Gables, as well as giving Anne books

74. “We’ve been together all these years, thick or thin, so don’t think I’ll put up with you slipping away now. Anne will be home today, and she’ll be very happy to see you.”

75. Matthew trying to kill himself because the life insurance would pay off the debt he caused

76. Jeannie happening to show up and find Matthew with the gun just in time as he tries to hide what he’s almost done from her, realizing what he’s done

77. The way they stress how his passing would effect Anne the most because of what they mean to each other, that she will suffer without him despite what he’s trying to do

78. “Don’t ever get old…” “Too late for that.”

79. “You would’ve left us that way!? Left me?..”

80. “Give it back. I won’t take charity.” “But.. love isn’t charity.” “I won’t take it.” “Nay I ask why not?” “We will not be pitied! I don’t want people thinking we can’t fend for ourselves.” “Well at the moment we can’t, and I’d sure give my last bit of strength or my last dollar to help a friend. Then I know that friend would feel grateful and loved above all else. And I do. I feel very grateful to have such a dear friend as Miss Barry. Sometimes you just have to let people love you Marilla.”

81. Anne selling her cleaning services to make steady income

82. “We’re rich, aren’t we Matthew?”

83. Jerry carving a star for the Christmas tree!!!!!!

84. Anne’s friends coming to sing carols at their house

85. Anne helping Matthew walk outside

86. Not Nate :(

87. Nathaniel, the bane of my existence

[angeloncewas]

dream has gotten 100x worse treatment by the internet than any smaller cc idk how ppl think he “gets away with stuff”

Here's where the argument is divided into the mcyt fanbase versus the internet as a whole.

This claim that Dream "gets away with stuff" doesn't come from nowhere. Inside of the mcyt community - notably, Twitter - it's almost as though everything Dream touches turns to gold.

Now, that's obviously not true, and I think it's never been more apparent than lately, but I'm not gonna pretend that this argument has no merit. He's got the biggest fanbase so I think that's partially why it's so apparent and such a problem, but we've seen the hypocrisy over and over again as ccs are completely shunned for much, much less than things Dream has done and been forgiven for, or even praised in regards to. "He apologized!" - So did they. - "Their apologies weren't good enough!" -- "Just because it was in the past doesn't mean it didn't happen." - Okay, what about Dream's past? - "Oh my god, just let him live!" -- These ccs often have a smaller following and/or are minorities of various kinds and they get attacked over the tiniest misstep, either real or completely fabricated.

I'm not saying that Dream shouldn't have been allowed this grace (some would argue it, I'm not one of them) I'm just saying that no one else in the community is ever allowed even the vaguest slip-up, so the way they allow Dream to pass on by is particularly stark in comparison. Frustrating, too, for a lot of the ccs in question.

What I don't think these people are aware of though is the climate outside of the fanbase. There, Dream has it 100000x worse than any small cc. In fact, their mistakes often are reflected onto him, as no "anti-mcyt" is gonna take the time to distinguish between some random person in the community who tweeted something racist and the most recognizable name. They're gonna assign the blame to Dream. And they do. We've seen it. Real or entirely fabricated.

Dream has been accused of nazism, being a creep to kids, being transphobic (source: just trust me dude), scamming artists, lying about charity, exploiting child labor (?!) and so on and so on.

Maybe the in-community people who are so hard on Dream just don't care, but it honestly feels like they don't know this. They make all these claims that everyone treats him like a god and bows at his feet, but he's literally out here getting extremely damaging false accusations leveled against him and passed around as fact on the daily; as well as having to face some more serious stuff I don't particularly care to discuss.

TLDR: I do know why people say Dream gets away with everything. But saying that feels reflective of a very small scope of the internet.

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 20

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language, drinking, allusions to/mention of sexual content

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch

We're on the edge

On the edge

We just might be lovers

Dive in to the glory where we'll be out there

~ Takida - Edge ~

With an exhausted sigh, Orion let himself fall against the back of the sofa in the green room. Even now, more than an hour after their second show of the day had been over, he could still hear the roar of the crowd hanging in the air.

The experience of their charity show still fresh in their minds, every one of them had given everything to make their main show just as memorable as the one before.

Catching some sleep had helped with clearing Orion’s mind of the turmoil that had raged inside his thoughts. Although it had been unexpected, he was glad Lizzie had come to check on him. Before she had arrived, he had felt like a leaf tossed in the winds of his memories, unable to catch hold of anything that would help him weather the storm.

But when he had felt her arms around him, her steady heartbeat had been enough to ground him and return his focus to the moment at hand, not the past and not the future. Who would have thought that the touch of her hand alone would be enough to calm him where, on his own, he needed several hours of meditation.

As they did do every so often these days, his eyes wandered over to where Lizzie was chatting with Skye. All the fans that had been allowed to meet them were long gone, one of them leaving hanging on Everett’s arm.

Skye was impatiently glancing at her phone, checking the time. Orion noticed how she made a point not to look to the door, where Erika was standing with an unreadable face.

Lizzie said something to Skye that made her roll her eyes. Sniggering to herself, she made her way over to him; her movements were less energetic than usual and Orion could tell the exhaustion of the day was already affecting her.

She slumped down onto the sofa next to him. “I think Skye and Erika want us to leave,” Lizzie giggled. “Skye said they ‘have some things to discuss’”. She tried to hide her grin behind her hand. Her blue eyes were sparkling with laughter, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“I can just imagine what kinds of topics they would feel the need to cover,” Orion smirked.

Lizzie giggled again, then sighed and sunk deeper into the plush couch. “Me too, but can’t they just go somewhere else? I don’t want to move, I’m tired.” She grimaced as she tilted her head from side to side. “And my shoulders hurt like hell.”

“We could go back and you let me do something about that,” Orion said so quietly only Lizzie would hear, his smile turning decidedly more mischievous. He almost reached out to touch her, catching himself at the last moment.

Lizzie pursed her lips before they curved into a shrewd smile, the one Orion knew meant trouble. She leaned slightly forward so she was closer to him; she was just far away enough to not seem suspicious to the others but the look in her eyes was intense.

“How could I refuse such a generous offer,” she purred before abruptly leaning back again, “but not just now. I want to wind down a little before we go back.”

She stood up and had to take a little extra step to catch her balance again. “Let’s go get some drinks, what do you say?”

Spending time with her seemed a good way to end the evening one way or another, so Orion got up as well and they set out to leave. It felt strange to just go out with her for drinks, they hadn’t done anything like that in ages. But then again, Lizzie had been right earlier; they were still friends after all.

They were just about to walk out the door, when his eyes fell on Merula sitting in the far corner of the room. She was playing with a lighter that was unfamiliar to him. She was staring into the flame burning up from the small device before she extinguished it again. Orion felt a pang of guilt rising up in his chest; he hadn’t even noticed she was still here.

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” he muttered to Lizzie and made his way over to his foster sister.

Merula only looked up briefly from the flame she had sparked again when Orion stood next to her.

“I thought you were leaving.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

“Not without saying goodbye,” he leaned forward slightly, trying to catch her violet coloured eyes. “Are you okay?”

Merula snorted. “Do I look okay?”

“You have a habit of hiding your true sentiments under a mask of sarcasm and spite, so for the inexperienced observer it is hard to tell.”

She let the flame go out and raised her eyes. “And what does the experienced observer say?”

“That you look even more sulky than usual.” Orion indicated the gleaming lighter in her hand. “Where did you get that? You’re not supposed to smoke.”

Merula’s frown deepened at his words. “You’re not Ethan fucking Parkin, but you sure start sounding like him,” she snarled. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, got it?”

Surprised at her tone, Orion raised his hands defensively; he was usually exempt from Merula’s moods. “I never meant to reprimand you. I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble.”

“Keep me out of trouble?” Merula snorted. Her eyes went to the door through which Lizzie had left a few moments ago. “How about starting with yourself then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t take me for stupid.” Her eyes grew hard as they turned back to him. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Orion pressed his lips together; he didn’t like what he was hearing. What was going on between Lizzie and him was supposed to be a secret, yet in a matter of days three of their closest friends had all discovered the truth.

The guilty expression written over his face was confirmation enough for Merula. She angrily stuffed her lighter into her pocket.

“I can’t believe you’re so stupid,” she hissed. “You of all people, risking everything we have like this. And not even telling me,” she added bitterly. “I thought you trusted me.”

“You know I trust you,” Orion answered, trying to keep his voice steady. “But this was not a matter for me alone to decide.”

“Yeah, I see,” Merula sneered, “she’s fluttering her lashes at you and you’re putty in her hands. Doesn’t matter if what you’re doing is the most stupid fucking thing you’ve ever done.”

Her eyes flashed and she grit her teeth. “And seriously, Lizzie? Of all the girls you could have had, why did it have to be her?”

Orion frowned. “Why would you say that? I sense a lot of hostility in your words.”

“Spare me the bullshit, you know exactly what I mean. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but couldn’t you have just done it like Ev and gotten yourself some random groupie? But no, of course you had to go the complicated way and get yourself involved with someone who is strictly off limits.”

She raised her chin in defiance. “You can’t really believe she’s being serious with you. Just look at how she’s acting, she’s flirting with anyone with a pulse.”

Orion was becoming increasingly annoyed with Merula’s accusations; listening to her, it seemed as if she hadn’t known Lizzie for years.

“No doubt, Lizzie is an affectionate person. But you should know her; she is quick to share friendly banter but not her…”

“Her what,” Merula scoffed, interrupting him, “her love? Her heart? Wake up Orion, she’s playing a game with you.”

“No,” he said pointedly, another flare of anger at Merula’s unwarranted criticism. “You misinterpret the situation entirely. This has nothing to do with love.”

Merula looked him up and down for a second. “So that’s it? Just some mindless fucking around? Seems I have misjudged you; didn’t think you had that in you,” she snorted. “Not her though, she’s acting just as I would have expected. I always knew she was a little -”

“Mind your words,” Orion cut her off sharply. He wasn’t able to keep his anger at Merula’s insults to himself anymore. “If I were you I would think well about what you want to say next.”

Taken aback by his sharp tone, Merula blinked at him. “You snapped at me,” she said, looking completely dumbstruck. “You’ve never snapped at me before.”

“You’ve never acted like a petulant child before.”

“I don’t get it; why don’t you see it? That everybody’s darling thing she’s doing is not real, it’s just for show.”

Orion shook his head. His hand went to the pendant around his neck, tugging at it. “The face we show to the world is not always a mirror of how we feel inside. Only because Lizzie doesn’t let people look through her like glass, doesn’t mean she is a bad person. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Fed up with her, Orion turned to go but Merula grabbed his arm, holding him back for just a moment longer.

“Just be careful, okay?” she said, suddenly sounding much softer than before. She didn’t look at him when he turned his head to face her. “This band is the closest thing to family we’ve ever had; she’s not worth risking that.”

*

Orion kicked the door to his hotel room shut with his foot, while Lizzie kissed him passionately. He could still taste the rich flavour of the whiskey on her lips, the bottle they had been sharing dropping to the ground with a muffled thud as she wrapped her arms around him. It landed right next to the jacket she had brushed off his shoulders; she stepped over it and pulled him further into the room.

In passing, Orion bent down and picked the bottle up again and took another sip. The earthy taste filled his mouth and the liquor burned in his throat, adding to the fire running through his veins. Lizzie pulled him closer again, their lips connecting as she kissed the last drops of whiskey off them.

She took the bottle from his hand, and brought it to her own lips, her eyes never leaving his even for a second. When she stepped back into the light falling into the room from the window, he could see there was a drop still hanging on the corner of her mouth; she spread it over her lower lip with her thumb before wrapping her lips around her fingertip, her smile heavy with promise. Orion exhaled slowly; she knew exactly how to drive him insane.

Within a heartbeat he was by her side again, the energy between them drawing him in like a force field. It had been building over the course of the whole evening; the exchange with Merula had left him feeling stirred up and with the last traces of adrenaline left from their show, his body had been flooded with the same restlessness he had been feeling for most of the day.

The strong drinks served in the bar where he and Lizzie had wound up had been a welcome distraction, just like her lingering looks and fleeting touches. It was a game between them she had mastered to perfection.

They hadn’t even been inside his room yet when Orion hadn’t been able to resist her any longer. He knew it was risky as hell to kiss her out in the open, but the sizzling tension between them had clouded his judgement. He hadn’t cared a single bit who might see them when he had pinned her against the door of his room, and judging by the way she had eagerly returned his kiss, neither had she.

It was stupid, it was dangerous and it was just what both of them needed tonight.

Maybe Merula had been right at least in one thing; Lizzie knew what to do to get him where she wanted him.

But she wasn’t the only one knowing him like the back of her hand. The soft moan escaping her as his kisses trailed down her throat was just as electrifying as the roar of the crowd when they were on stage.

She tilted her head to the side to give him better access and Orion smirked as he felt her fingers tangle in his hair. Her body shivered as his hands wandered up her sides from her hips. She let go of him just long enough to let him pull her shirt over her head, his own following just a moment later.

He rested his hands on her waist, which fit into his palms as if they were made for them, before they went up to her shoulders, giving her a slight push towards the bed. Lizzie let herself fall back into the sheets, pulling him along with her, their lips locked in a steamy kiss.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him even closer, her hands running down his spine.

“We should close the curtains,” he mumbled with the last shred of rational thinking he could muster, followed by a sharp intake of breath when her fingers dipped under the hem of his trousers.

“Better hurry then,” she breathed, teasingly biting his lip. Her words were slurred from the exhaustion of playing two shows in a day and the whiskey taking its effect on her.

Orion reluctantly broke free from her. She leaned back into the cushions and shook her hair out; it fell in soft waves over her shoulders and Orion couldn’t wait to bury his hands in her honey-brown mane. He kissed her one last time before getting up again; leaving her sprawled on his bed like this was feeling like a crime.

He stepped towards the window to pull the curtains close when he saw the figures dancing in the street outside; the faint sound of music was drifting up to him. He stopped and watched them for a moment.

“Looks like there’s quite the party going on outside,” he chuckled.

When he got no response, he turned around and, after a first moment of incredulity, had to bite back a laugh. Lying on the comfortable mattress, the day had gotten the better of Lizzie; her head had fallen to the side, her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted. Her slow and steady breathing showed him that she was fast asleep.

Orion laughed quietly; no wonder she hadn’t been able to resist the lure of sleep, even if he was a little disappointed she’d left him hanging. Playing two shows in one day had taken a toll on all of them.

He knew she wanted to be left alone when she was sleeping, but the bed was only so big and he just couldn’t resist when he climbed into the sheets next to her. He gently ran his hand over the curve of her hips up to her waist. He didn’t want to wake her up, he just wanted to feel her smooth skin under the tips of his fingers.

Responding to his touch, Lizzie murmured something indiscernible and turned around, resting her head on his chest. Orion couldn’t help but smile as he carefully covered them both with the duvet.

They had shared the same bed more times than he could remember, even though Lizzie had made a point in returning to her room when they were on tour. Even so, the sight of her sleeping next to him was not new to Orion.

He was familiar with the way she hugged her pillow, and how she couldn’t sleep without the weight of a blanket on her shoulders, no matter how warm it was. He knew how she liked to sleep with the windows open, and that what she missed the most when they were home in London was the sound of the sea.

And still, even after all these months, they had never spent the night together without sleeping with each other first. This kind of intimacy was against all of the essential rules they had established; they weren’t about emotions, only about fun times between good friends. No commitment, no complications, no heartbreak. It was just another way of relieving the adrenaline in their bodies after they had left the stage.

But Orion couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something felt different; that something else had sneaked into their dynamic over time.

He looked down and watched Lizzie sleeping peacefully for a moment. He shifted slightly so he had his arm around her and brushed back a strand of hair from her face. Just like this afternoon, he felt at ease with her in his arms, all thoughts about past and future forgotten. Everything that counted was right here and now, in this moment, just the two of them.

He absentmindedly twisted one of Lizzie’s curls around his finger and thought about what Merula had said. She was wrong, he decided for himself; this utter peace of mind he was experiencing right now, this was worth risking a lot for.

As Orion felt his own consciousness slip, he rested his face against Lizzie’s soft hair. He pressed a light kiss on her head, her familiar scent of jasmine and mint enveloping him and making him breathe her in deeply.

A memory rose from the depths of his mind, an off-hand remark made by him on a hot summer night on his rooftop. As her body was nestled against his, feeling as if it just belonged there, he couldn’t help but agree.

She really was the perfect size.

His lips curving into a smile, Orion drifted off to sleep.

[castiel-barnes]

MYTHASOURS

Pairing: Ice Hockey! Din Djarin x Reader.

Summary: Yourself and Din adopt a little one, who Din teaches to skate. Ice Hockey AU.

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: Slight mentions of injuries. Soft Din. Swearing mentions.

A/N: This is based of @shanediomorrissey Hockey Din AU fanart, which is absolutely amazing and you should totally check out their work.

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell @scribbledghost

Your husband had been part of the Ice Hockey World since he was very young. That was one of the first things, his adopted father taught him. Now he was on a professional team, in the Intergalactic Hockey League (IHL). His team.

The Mythasours.

One of the best teams in the entire IHL. Home to the late Jango Fett, who's career ended far too soon in a deadly incident. After the incident, the Fett memorial was created and gifted to the Most Valuable Player.

You felt Din move in the double bed, his arms detaching from your waist where they had been for the majority of the night. It must've been 05:35am. Run time. His routine was pretty much the same every day. Run. Shower. Get breakfast ready for you both. Gym and then the training session at the rink.

You groaned as you felt his warmth leave you, and you wrapped the blanket up around around your head.

"Hey Cyar’ika, it's gonna be a good day at the rink today. Wanna come?" He asked as he got his running clothes on,

"What's happening at the rink?" You groaned peaking an eye open. You smiled slightly as you saw the V cut at the bottom of his abs.

"There's uh a charity thing going on today. We're teaching kids from the orphanage, how to skate and play. I just thought you'd like to come with, you're usually really good with kids." Din explained giving you a small kiss to your head,

"Yeah, I'll come with. I like watching you teach little ones." You replied smiling tiredly. You laid in bed for five more minutes, before getting out and showering then changing into warm clothes. No matter what time of year it is. The rink is always cold.

For a change today, you made breakfast and let Din take his time in the shower and getting ready. After breakfast, you packed a few snacks into your bag.

You always took a book with you when the boys where in the gym, although you did sneak glances at Din every now and then.

Before the kids from the orphanage came into the rink, The Mythasours and their opposing team The Twin Sun's skated onto the ice.

As you and the other sat down, you over heard a girl 'bragging' about being Din Djarins girl to her friends? Oh you could not have this.

"Excuse me, I think you should reconsider before you brag about something you're not." You stated standing up,

"And who might you might you be?" She asked in a sneering way.

"I just so happen to be his other half." You replied calmly,

"Oh yeah? Then prove it. Otherwise your just another bitch who wants attention from my hubby." She tried to continue to pretend.

"I'm Y/n Djarin. I'm married to Din Djarin, the Captain of the Mythasours and our anniversary date is March 7th. Now why don't you go before I have to call security." You stated slightly seething, and standing straight to gain height advantage.

At this she backed off and went to the other side of the rink, whilst her friends abandoned her. Din witnessed this whole confrontation, and you went over to him as he called you over.

"What was that about baby?" Din asked holding your hand gently,

"Just another fan who thinks they can get what they want. Don't worry about it din." You replied giving his cheek a sweet kiss.

"Hey look the kids have arrived." You continued smiling. Din turned and smiled as all the kids filed in. He noticed out of all the kids with black, brunette, ginger and blonde hair. There was a kid with white hair, who was slightly smaller than the rest and seemed to shy away from the rest.

As the kids oogled at the professional hockey players, each player got to know the kids individually. Din decided to speak to the little white haired kid that had caught his eye.

"Mr Djarin." Peli Motto stated smiling at him. "It's so nice to see you again." She continued,

"Please Peli, there isn't much for formalities on the ice. Please call me Din." Din replied smiling awkwardly.

"Very well Din. I see you spotted our youngest here today." Peli said as the little white haired kid looked around scared,

"Yeah, what's the little guys name?" Din asked curious.

"Grogu. He is a selective mute we think. He hasn't talked since we got him at the orphanage." Peli explained with a sad look,

"Just sad that a cute one like that can be left with no parents." Peli continued.

"Do you mind if I.. like if I go over to him?" Din asked,

"Of course I don't mind. It's what we came here for." She smiled. Din smiled and skated over to Grogu, he wasn't really standing with anyone else. As he got to Grogu, Din kneeled down and smiled.

"Hi Grogu, my name is Din. How are you today?" Din asked,

All he got from the considerably small kid was a shrug and a nervous glance. But it was better than nothing.

"Do you wanna learn how to skate?" Din asked, at that Grogus eyes lit up like seeing a festival for the first time. Grogu nodded and smiled, causing Din to smile. You watched as Din helped the child, putting the skates on and trying them properly.

Grogu was a little hesitant at first to go on the ice, but Din was there to help him.

"It's okay buddy. I'm gonna help keep you steady." Din said quietly to Grogu. Grogu looked up at him, his big green eyes finally losing some of the fear he had earlier. Din smiled and held Grogus hands, as Din skated backwards.

"You're doing so good buddy. Do you wanna be a professional one day?" Din praised,

Grogu nodded and continued to concentrate on keeping balanced. Din smiled brightly and looked at you for a brief moment, and you were smiling right back at him. After a while the kids had their break, and watched the professionals skate around for a bit.

"I see you got a new best friend baby." You stated giving Din a kiss,

"Yeah, his name is Grogu and he's a mute. But he is so kriffing adorable." Din replied smiling ear to ear.

"He's adorable, you two look so cute together." You said quietly, earning a blush from Din.

After hours, it was finally time to go back to the orphanage. For Din, letting Grogu go back felt wrong. Grogu reminded him of himself when he was about that age, before his adoptive father found him.

When the two of you got home. You could feel something slightly off with Din.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked wrapping your arms around him,

"I just feel kinda bad for leaving Grogu at the orphanage." Din said quietly burying his head into the crook of your neck.

"Well baby, we could always maybe adopt him. If you wanted. Cause seeing you and him earlier. I honestly couldn't of thought anything better." You suggested nervously,

Din whipped round with one of the biggest smiles on his face.

"Really?" He asked, trying to gauge if you were serious or not,

"Yeah. I mean, you'd make a great dad. Watching you with Grogu was amazing. Maybe we could speak to Peli." You replied. Din continued to smile and hugged you tightly.

The next day, you and Din went to the orphanage. You could tell he was nervous but that was a good thing. After some discussions with Peli, Din went by himself to Grogus room.

"Hey buddy." Din smiled kneeling down,

Grogu turned around and smiled brightly. His white hair tousled slightly.

"What do you think about coming home with me and Y/n?" Din asked,

Grogus face went into an expression of disbelief. He nodded and launched his tiny body into Dins. Din laughed as he hugged Grogu back, and helped pack the few belongings Grogu had. The two boys came out into the main area, Grogus small hand in Dins. And the two of them smiling brightly.

***************************

Time skip:

Grogu had been your adopted son for many months now. His skating ability increasing significantly, and starting to become one of the best on the kids Death Watch team.

9 times out of 10, Grogu watched Dins games.

This one game though was very different. The Twin Sun's had a new player. And even Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett had their queries about this player.

The game was heading towards a victory for the Mythasours. And this didn't settle right for the new comer. He saw his opportunity as Din skated forward with the puck, and the new comer shoved Din into the boards.

Din grunted falling to the floor hard, hitting his head against the ice. The game was called to a stop and IG-11 the medic, came onto the ice.

Boba went up to the new comer and got right in his face.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing newbie?" Boba growled,

"I was stopping him. Just cause he is the mighty 'Din djarin' doesn't mean he has my respect." The new comer explained. Boba was about to punch him, until Cobb stopped him.

"It's not worth it Boba." Cobb whispered.

Din was helped out, and Grogu was extremely upset trying to follow.

"I know buddy, I know. We'll go see your buir in a moment I promise. He's gonna be fine buddy." You croaked out trying not be scared for Grogu.

The two of you followed the ambulance to the hospital. And waited in the waiting room for almost an hour. You sat with Grogu and tried to distract him for a while.

Finally the doctor came out, and you stood up with Grogu in your arms.

"Is he alright?" You asked quickly,

"He only has a mild concussion and some slight bruising on his side. We'll have to keep him observation for the next few hours, you're able to go see him if you would like." The doctor spoke, showing the way to Din's room.

Din opened his eyes slightly, and smiled as he saw the two of you.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" You asked quietly,

"My head hurts. A lot." Din replied. He smiled at Grogu and watched Grogus hands as his signed.

'Are you okay papa?' Grogu signed,

"I will be buddy I promise. Its just a part of hockey." Din replied ruffling Grogus white hair.

After a few hours Din was able to go home, and get sleep. For the next few weeks, Din rested making sure to listen to the doctors.

He eventually went back to the rink, slowly getting back into the swing of things. Din attended a lot of Grogus training sessions, sitting on the sidelines giving him tips. He did stay for the Mythasours practice and watched.

When Din finally returned playing, everyone including Boba and Cobb.

"Din! My Vod how are you feeling?" Boba exclaimed smiling and hugging Din,

"A lot better than I was, that's for damn sure. What happened to the kid who gave me a concussion?" Din asked.

"Got kicked out. Turns out he's done this in a bunch of other teams just never been reported properly." Boba returned.

Din's first game back was amazing. Everyone, even the Twin Sun's fans showed their excitement of the Mythasours captain making his return.

The game went to the Mythasours.

At the end of the game, Din done a speech giving his thanks for the support.