#i could probably do a whole back & forth of 'that reminds me' 'oh that reminds me' 'well THAT reminds me' with gale

[devotedlystrangewizard]

i dont like saying astarion is my least favorite of the companions because it makes me feel like im such a "look at me im so special" guy but he honest to fucking god. is my least favorite. i cannot keep silent on this matter. i think hes a good character, i think neil did a fantastic job with him, but also hes committed the unforgiveable sin of annoying me and for that he gets one thousand years in brain jail

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ having a pregnancy scare wasn’t on rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader’s to do list anytime soon.. but alas, here they are waiting to see if two pink lines will change the trajectory of their lives forever.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of a breeding kink lol, super sweet fluff, slight humor, lots of crying

a/n: this is my not-so-subtle way of introducing babydaddy!rafe to my blog (i’ve been reading a lot of babydaddy!rafe lately.. yum) also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the second tag of this post: ‘₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader & babydaddy!rafe’

w/c: 1.3k

“a-are you sure you’re late?” rafe was pacing back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as you flipped through your little calendar book. “yes! i look at my calendar everyday rafe, it’s been three weeks!” you sniffled, checking for the millionth time. rafe joined you on your bed, realizing he probably wasn’t making you feel any better if he was freaking out too. “hey..” he cupped your chin, “it’s gonna be okay, baby. what do you need me to do? ‘want me to go get some tests from the store?” you cried even more, the whole thing becoming too real all at once. “i don’t know! i don’t know what to do, ray!”

he sighed, holding you as you wept in his arms. “oh, baby,” rafe rubbed your back, “you know i’m going to take care of us, of you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. he wiped the tears from your eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i know.. it’s just— this is so new, and even though we don’t have a for sure answer yet, i feel like i really am. you know.. pregnant?” saying it out loud made rafe’s heart drop to his stomach. you saw the way his expression softened, his eyes flickering down to where you two held hands.

while it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering you two never use protection.. it’s still a delicate matter that rafe took very seriously. “am i gonna sound crazy if i say i hope that you are?” you took a breath, stroking the side of rafe’s face. “no. i want it too.” letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he pulled you against his chest, embracing you once again. “why don’t we find out? ‘go to the pharmacy and get some tests?” you nodded, the anticipation already feeling unbearable. “okay.” you pulled away, getting under your knitted blanket.

“you’re not going with me?” rafe laughed. “are you joking? the owner has known me forever. if he see’s us buying a pregnancy test, he’ll—” you lowered your voice down to a whisper, “he’ll know what we’ve been doing..” your cheeks heated at the thought of the sweet old man who’s known you for all of your life checking you out for a test that indicates you’ve been doing a lot more than just baking cookies. “baby, if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, and far away from any kind of civilization, everyone on this island would know what we’ve been doing.” he winked.

at his words, you shooed him out of your camper as a giggle escaped your lips. he wasn’t wrong. rafe knew all the ways to make you scream and tremble in pure bliss. it felt like forever since rafe had been out, but one glance at the heart shaped clock on your wall, and it had only been ten minutes. you laid on your back, fingertips skimming your tummy. imagining a baby, half of you, and half of rafe, a result of two worlds, both full of so much love, colliding into one and making the most beautiful creation you were sure to ever see, made a smile grace your pretty face.

now you were thinking about a nursery, wondering if you’d be painting it baby pink or powder blue. either color was fine with you. sitting up, you looked around your camper, really seeing just how small it was. you and rafe barely fit in here together, let alone with a little baby that’ll eventually grow and want to run around. now you felt sad at the indication that you might have to move out of the only place you’ve ever known. this would change your life, but with rafe by your side you felt more ready than ever. just as you were going to call rafe and politely tell him to hurry up, he walked through the door.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so i just grabbed one of each.” rafe gave you the bag, plopping down next to you. there was about ten different tests in there, including a lot of the snacks you’d been craving over the last week. sour gummy bears, chocolate, and spicy chips mostly. taking out a pink box, you read the instructions before looking back at rafe who already had his full attention on you. “can you come with me?” without hesitation, rafe helped you up and guided you to the bathroom. “alright..” he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you unwrapped the test.

“i can’t really pee if you’re looking..” rafe had zoned out, thinking about house hunting already and wondering what kind of car seat would be the safest for a baby. “right, i’m sorry.” he turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. rafe needed the confirmation just as much as you did, his stomach doing somersaults as he nervously bit his lip. “you okay?” he asked. you hummed, peeing on the stick before setting it down on a piece of toilet paper. washing your hands shortly after, you and rafe left the test in the bathroom as you waited in silence.

“my heart is beating so fast right now.” you laughed, on the verge of tears as rafe rubbed circles into the flesh of your thigh. “i want you to know something..” rafe whispered, “whatever those test results come out to; negative or positive, we’re going to be okay. i don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright?” your chin wobbled as you nodded, your head falling in the curve of his neck. you stayed quiet for the rest of the time, the timer on rafe’s phone going off. “oh, god..” you whimpered, motioning for rafe to grab the test. “don’t look at it, just bring it over!” you called out.

rafe walked back with his eyes closed, nearly bumping into the wall as his hands trembled with excitement. “where are you?” he kept his eyes screwed shut, in which you followed suit. “i’m right here.” you squeaked out, holding onto his wrists. “on three we’re gonna look down.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “okay, i’m ready.” both of you smiled. “one, two, three—” both of you looked down, rafe jumping and running out of your camper as you stared down at the sight of two, very prominent, pink lines. rafe was shouting outside, the sound making you laugh as you took a seat on the couch.

“oh my god.” rafe poked his head in, your teary eyes meeting his. thankfully, he was able to read the room and calmed down a bit. “oh my god.” he repeated, kneeling down in front of you. “are you okay? are you happy?” rafe rubbed the side of your thighs, his touch providing a comfort like no other. “yes! i just can’t believe it..” you hugged him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “we have a lot of planning to do.” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. rafe could already see it. the white house, the white picket fence, both of you were already two steps closer to your dreams becoming a reality.

“yeah, we do,” he agreed, “let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah?” you smiled, cupping his face. “i love you so much, this is crazy.” he kissed your lips before taking the test in his hands again. “a whole baby..” you were in utter disbelief. “maybe i should take the rest of the tests?” you stood up, taking the plastic bag with you to the bathroom. by the time you finished, the sun was already setting, both you and rafe staring at the approximately ten tests in front of you. all positive. “looks like we took the breeding kink a little too seriously, huh?” you looked up at rafe through his reflection in the mirror. “that was a good one.”

[tojismain]

clenched jaws and promises

someone tells you that you're not toji's type, were they right or are you just scared?

“You’re Toji’s girl, right?” This girl had been staring at you for the entirety of the party, waiting for her moment to pounce and you just left Toji to get some hors d’oeuvres at the end of the hallroom while he greeted someone. 

“Uh yeah.” You replied, smiling slightly. 

She hums with an amused smile. “You’re different from what I expected.” 

You could’ve imagined the whole thing, but you could swear that the sentence carried a venomous tone. 

“Oh? What did you expect?” You asked, hoping you misread her intention. 

“I mean...” She gestures over your frame with her black-painted acrylics. “Just- you know, you’re not really his type. Not what I expected to see.” Definitely venomous.

“And what exactly is his type?” Your smile was completely gone as you stared at her. 

“Different, that’s all. Guess he switched up, didn’t he?” Her smile grows at the sight of your discomfort and you were certain your eye was twitching. 

“I guess so.” You grasped the glass in your hand tighter. 

She steps closer and leans her head forwards as she whispers, “He’s going to get bored, you know? He needs someone exciting. I doubt you and your life can keep it enticing for him. No offense, you just seem like the fragile-type. I mean you probably didn’t even want to come to this, did you?” 

"Yeah." She laughs as she backs up before continuing, her voice back to normal, “But what do I know? Maybe he’s into that.” And you doubt she knew what Toji needed. 

Your jaw was clenched and your words come out shaky, “Thanks for letting me know.” 

She brushes her hand over your shoulder, “No worries! Just giving you a heads up. It’s pathetic to see someone cling on to something that’s clearly not meant to be.”

In that moment, you wished you were more confrontational and could slap her, but you walk away before causing a scene. 

You end up in the fancy bathrooms looking at yourself in the mirror. Was she right? You knew Toji went for different types of girls before you, but that means nothing right? But, all you could see was a reflection of things you weren’t for him.

You spent some time in there fixing your makeup and trying not to let her words affect you. It wasn’t effective but you were really good at lying to yourself, so for tonight, it’ll have to do.

You step out of the restroom and see Toji leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He looked unbothered and straight-faced, until he turned to look at you.

He looks at you for a second before reaching out and grabbing your wrists, pulling you to him and trapping you between his body and the wall. 

A gasp leaves your mouth at the sudden movement, “Is something wrong?” You breathed out. 

He leaned down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, he hums, “Took you a while in there.” He says in a grumble. 

“I just- I needed to freshen up.” Your face burned red as one of his hands gripped your waist, keeping you against him.

“For that long?” He asked as he nipped the skin on your shoulder, starting to leave small marks.

You whine at his actions. “Toji-”

His nips turn to peppered kisses. A grin makes its way on his face at your whining. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

His question was meant to be teasing, but it reminded you of your previous conversation with the girl and you moved away from him slightly.

“Nothing.” You managed to mutter out. 

He lifted his head and looked down at you. His eyebrows furrow, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nod your head and smile slightly, “Yeah I'm okay.”

He noticed that something was bothering you so he grabbed your chin with his hand and let his eyes roam over your face. 

“When are we going home?” You asked before he could make any comments or ask any questions. 

You avoided his eyes and tried to move your face away from him, but he splays his hand at your jaw. He brushes his thumb back and forth and he notices your discomfort—not from him, but clearly from something. 

“Soon. We’ll leave soon, baby.” He trails his hand down to your own and interlaces your fingers. 

The both of you walk away from the hallway and make your way back to the mainroom. The minutes go by with Toji talking to numerous people, his words were now quick, wanting to leave more than anything.  

Eventually he turns to look at you, “Let’s go now, yeah?” He asks, his gaze harshening as he fixes on someone else behind you.

part 2

aurelia

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.2

Chapter Summary: Events from Tommy and Maria's engagement party force you to confront your feelings with Joel about the future.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, smut (MDNI 18+), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk, angst, fear of commitment, talk of pregnancy

WC: 7.7K

Series masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You couldn't have picked a hotter day to host the engagement party. Sweat trickled down your neck as you finished cleaning up your kitchen, cursing yourself the whole time for coming up with the idea in the first place. You straightened up and looked around the first floor, deciding you were finally satisfied with the result before sliding on your sneakers to go find your friend and co-worker, Carrie, outside.

Jogging down the porch steps, you spun your head in either direction before spotting her across the street talking to Julia, one of Jackson's elementary school teachers, and balancing a large box on her hip. They both turned and gave a wave when they saw you approach.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, your skin feeling instantly flush when the sun's rays hit you. "House is all clean, ready to start setting up?"

"Yeah! Julia was just telling me what a fun time her kids had making the decorations, that was such a good idea," Carrie said, flicking her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and fanning the back of her neck.

"It was a great distraction from the heat this week," Julia said with a smile. "I'm glad we could help out. You girls give me a call if you need any help over there, I'll come right over."

"Seth's supposed to come by later and borrow your oven," you reminded her, and she nodded.

You both thanked her and headed back across the street. The original plan had been to have everyone in your backyard, but the amount of people on the guest list grew so large that you decided to just set up tents and tables right in the middle of the street, with your house as the home base for all the food. People would be able to easily filter in and out as they needed throughout the night. All you had to do was hang up the decorations inside and on your porch, as well as set up various tables inside to hold all the food. Seth was providing the majority, but everyone in town wanted to pitch in and help so by the end, it turned out to be a potluck.

Carrie was helping you pin up a huge banner across your porch railing congratulating the happy couple when a few of the men in town arrived to set up the tents, tables and chairs in the street. All of your neighbors supplied whatever they could to the cause: folding tables, patio furniture, camping chairs. It was a bunch of mismatched furniture under tents and umbrellas, but as long as there were enough places for people to sit, that was all that mattered.

"C'mon, let's go sit in front of the fan inside, I'm dying," Carrie told you once you had finished decorating the porch. You agreed, following her inside to grab some water and rest.

"Where's Joel?" she asked you, flopping down on the couch and throwing her leg over the arm while she took a long drink of water.

"He's helping Seth bring all the meat over," you explained, sitting down across from her to catch your breath. "They'll be here in a bit." You had planned the start of the party for dinnertime, hoping the sun would be lower by that point and possibly cooler.

"He's got to be so happy for Tommy," she said.

"Oh, yeah, of course. He probably thought Tommy would never settle down, the way he used to get around at work," you said with a giggle.

"I always forget you three knew each other before the outbreak," Carrie replied. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

"Tell me about it," you said with a sigh. "I think I've lived three lives since then."

Carrie eyed you for a moment, her eyes shining with a playful glint you knew usually accompanied some type of gossip.

"Sooo..." she began, swinging her leg back and forth over the arm of the couch with a smirk. "You think you and Joel are next?"

You sputtered on your water, somehow not expecting her to steer the conversation in that direction.

"What?" you managed to squeak out, your pulse quickening.

"Well, you two have been together for years. Longer than Tommy and Maria. I figured them getting engaged would have gotten you guys thinking about it, too," she said with a shrug.

"No. No, I don't think so," you said, shaking your head.

"Have you guys talked about it?"

"Well... no. But I don't think - um, he's never..." you struggled to finish your sentence, not sure how to verbalize the jumbled mess in your head.

"What? You think he's never thought about it?" Carrie asked, furrowing her brows.

"He was engaged a long time ago and it ended badly, I don't think that's something he's interested in doing again," you finally said, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. You wiped your palms on your shorts, suddenly feeling clammy.

"Well, that doesn't mean anything. He's crazy about you, why wouldn't he want to marry you?"

Your mouth felt dry as you considered her words. With a shaky hand, you grabbed your water and took a long sip. Carrie eyed you carefully, finally noticing your nerves.

"Do you want to marry him?" she asked softly. You looked over at her with wide eyes.

"I... I'm not sure," you finally admitted. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You can't repeat this to anyone, Carrie, I'm serious." She nodded and crossed her heart, sitting upright so she could give you her full attention.

"I love him. More than anything. And I don't want to be with anyone else," you began as she nodded along. "But the thought of marrying him scares the shit out of me."

"Why?" she asked incredulously. You shrugged.

"I can't be sure. I've been thinking about it for weeks and I can't come up with just one answer. I just hope I figure it out before -"

Just then, the screen door swung open and you heard Seth and Joel's voices carrying down the hall. You widened your eyes at Carrie and made a cross over your heart, which she returned with a resolute nod and put on her game face.

"Ladies," Seth said in greeting with a nod as he headed over to your oven, twisting the nobs to preheat it and began to shove covered trays of food inside. You both stood up and entered the kitchen, ready to help. Joel followed down the hall shortly after, placing his armful of food on the counter before turning to you both.

"Looks great out there," he said with a quick kiss to the top of your head. You inhaled deeply, taking in his intoxicating scent: a mix of his sweat and the soap he used that morning. What was wrong with you for not wanting to marry this man?

"I'm gonna take the rest of these across the street," Seth said as he scooped up the remaining trays and slipped his boots back on.

"Thanks, Seth," you called after him as he pushed open the door with a quick wave over his shoulder.

"I was going to head home and get ready, unless you need anything else?" Carrie asked, and you shook your head, thanking her as well. She gave Joel a quick smile as she made her way to the front door. Once she was sure his back was to her, she gave you a look and mouthed we'll talk later before she headed back out into the blistering heat.

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me, right?" Joel asked, a pained expression on his face when you came down the stairs and he saw the dress you had put on for the party.

"What?" you replied, genuinely perplexed as you met him in the kitchen. It was a simple sundress: pale blue with small flowers that fell just above your knee. You adjusted one of the spaghetti straps, feeling self-conscious. It wasn't racy by any means, but the way he was staring made you feel like you were wearing a corset and stockings.

"How am I supposed to keep my hands off you when you're wearin' this?" he murmured, closing the gap between you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"It's nothing special, Joel," you said with a laugh. "All the women will be wearing dresses, it's hot as hell out."

"It's special if it's on you," he said right before slotting his lips against yours, taking your breath away. He supposed you were right. It was a relatively modest dress, but he couldn't help his reaction. You used to wear dresses or skirts almost every day at the office before the outbreak, but it was a rarity now. One he didn't want to waste.

"Jesus, you're insatiable lately," you teased, giving his chest a gentle shove so you could create some space, knowing full well people would be arriving any minute to set up their dish to share.

"Well, can you blame me?" he shot right back, about to descend upon your neck when the screen door slammed open and shut. He groaned when he heard Carrie and her boyfriend, Jake, call out from the hallway.

"In here!" you replied, giving Joel's hand a quick squeeze before letting it go to greet the first of your guests.

Fortunately, once the sun set, the temperature did seem to drop a few degrees. You and Joel sat at a table with Tommy and Maria, getting small pockets of conversation in between all the well-wishers stopping by to chat and examine her ring. You probably heard the story of how Tommy proposed about twenty times by the time you started your third drink, feeling pleasantly relaxed and pleased at how well the party came together after all the hard work everyone put into it. You leaned back onto Joel's shoulder with a sigh as you listened to Maria tell an older couple how Tommy spilled red wine on the carpet because his hands were shaking so badly.

"You did good, sweetheart," Joel murmured in your ear. "This was real nice."

"Thanks," you said, turning your face upwards to give him a sweet smile. Fuck, he was so handsome. "Everyone pitched in, though. Wasn't just me."

"Yeah, but you organized it all, and that's a lot of work. You made 'em very happy," he said, nodding in the direction of his brother and his bride to be.

You smiled again and took another sip of your drink. He put his own glass down on the table in favor of putting his hand on your knee and giving you a gentle squeeze. You cocked an eyebrow at him and leaned in closer as his eyes briefly drifted down, trying to get a peek at your cleavage.

"What are you up to, Mr. Miller?" you asked quietly, your gaze flicking to his hand on your knee, which was sneakily making its way further up your leg. He shrugged and gave you a sly smirk.

"Just enjoyin' the view," he replied.

The couple Maria was talking to finally walked away, and she directed her attention back to you.

"Now that I think we finally have more than five minutes, we wanted to ask you both something," Maria said, her eyes sparkling as she looked over at Tommy.

"Will you be our best man and maid of honor?" Tommy asked with a warm smile.

"Oh my god, of course!" you exclaimed, jumping up from Joel's grasp to give Maria a tight hug.

"We'd love to," Joel confirmed, standing and giving his brother a firm handshake before you shoved him out of the way to give Tommy a hug. Joel gave Maria a kiss on the cheek and you settled back in your chair, scooting closer to Maria to hear the plans she had already come up with for the ceremony.

Joel clinked his glass of whiskey against Tommy's with a nod before they each took a sip and sat back to watch you and Maria talking animatedly about how she wants her hair to look for the big day.

"So," Tommy began with a knowing look on his face. Joel curtly shook his head to stop Tommy, but he knew you weren't listening.

"I don't know yet," was all Joel said, without Tommy having to finish his thought. "Didn't want to steal your thunder, and all that."

"Bullshit, you're just nervous," Tommy said with a chuckle.

"Ain't no rush. When it's right, I'll ask," he replied with a shrug.

"Well, you know her better than anyone," Tommy conceded.

"Who?" you asked, turning your attention towards the brothers.

"Velvet, the mare Joel's been usin' on patrol lately. She's got a stubborn streak," Tommy said, the lie rolling off his tongue with ease.

"Hm. I can see why they get along so well, then," you said with a wink, pulling a laugh from Tommy and Maria. Joel rolled his eyes at your joke, giving you half a smirk. He not-so-secretly loved it when you teased him.

"You should talk," he said, pinching your arm.

"Hey, Joel. Before I forget. I gotta ask you to come out with me in a few weeks. It's about that new settlement we made contact with a month ago, they wanna meet up and see about trades," Tommy said. "Should only take few days."

You hated when Joel had to leave overnight. You tried to keep your disappointment hidden, but Joel knew you too well. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tugging you into him and fiddling with the strap of your dress as he spoke to Tommy.

"You got it," Joel replied with a nod. "Someone's gotta make sure you live long enough to make it down the aisle."

Yet another group of people came over to chat with Tommy and Maria, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carrie and a few other women cleaning up, so you got up with a sigh to join them. As you were about to walk away, Joel stood up and snagged your hand, turning you around to face him.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't like it when I'm gone too long," he said softly, running his knuckle down your cheek.

"It's okay. I'll just have to entertain myself for a few days," you said dramatically. "But I have no idea what I'll do in that big bed all by myself," you added quietly with a pout. You ran your palms up his chest and reached up to adjust the collar on his button down before looking up to meet his darkened gaze. "Do you have any ideas, Joel?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes.

The grip he had on you tightened and he opened his mouth to reply when Julia interrupted, calling your name from a few tables away.

"Do you have any extra Tupperware?" she had asked, and you wiggled out of Joel's grasp before replying.

"Sure do, I'll meet you guys inside and help pack up all the food," you said, walking over to pick up any empty plates you could manage before following her into your kitchen, his eyes glued to the way you floated around the party until he lost sight of you.

As the night wore on, many of the older couples and families with young children filtered home, leaving about thirty or so people behind closer to midnight. You wondered how the town was going to function tomorrow, collectively hungover, as you gratefully accepted another glass of wine from Carrie and plopped on your couch. The men all ended up congregating outside on the porch or backyard, whereas the women all elected to stay inside.

You were listening to one of the girls drone on about a terrible date she had with one of the newer guys in town when the screen door whipped open loudly, followed by boisterous laughter from what sounded like the rest of the men, likely bored with being outside alone.

"Ladies!" Tommy called out drunkenly, arms spread wide with a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. His hip nudged one of your kitchen chairs, the legs scraping on the floor as he made his way over to Maria.

"Oh, great," Maria said, rolling her eyes, but you could see the corners of her mouth turning up into a smirk as Tommy leaned over behind the couch to wrap his arms around her.

Everyone else followed him inside, and suddenly your quiet little sanctuary was filled with loud laughter and shouting as a few men in your kitchen had a very lively argument over sports teams that no longer existed, while others wandered around the living room to try their luck with some of the women.

You stood from the couch, the conversation you all were having earlier effectively over, as you pushed through the bodies of people suddenly filling your home. As you made your way to the bathroom, your eyes darted around, trying to find Joel, but you couldn't see or hear him anywhere.

With a sigh, you snuck into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, enjoying the quiet for a moment. You checked your reflection in the mirror when you were done using the bathroom, smoothing down your hair but the humidity from the day made it difficult, before unlocking the door.

You stumbled back when the door pushed open from the other side, the yelling, and now, music, filling the small room briefly before the door quickly closed again.

Joel's lips were on yours before you could blink, the heady taste of whiskey on his tongue as he sloppily licked into your mouth. His hands greedily reached down to squeeze your ass, bunching your dress up a bit in the process.

"Joel!" you managed to gasp before his mouth devoured yours again, pushing you back against the sink while your fingers gripped his shirt for balance.

"Fuck, need ya so bad 'n all these people won't fuckin' leave," he slurred, his lips nipping at your jaw. Heat bloomed between your legs at the hungry way he grabbed and kissed you, like he couldn't stop himself.

"You're drunk," you said breathily, tipping your head back.

"So are you," he mumbled, and you couldn't stop the lazy smirk that spread across your face. He had you there.

His hands slid down to lift up the back of your dress, his palms caressing the exposed skin of your ass and your lacy underwear before he squeezed, making you squeak.

"We have guests, Joel," you said as his lips made their way down your neck, his tongue leaving soft licks as he went. He pulled you close, pressing his hips against you so you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your stomach.

"D'ya want me to stop?" he asked, pulling his face back a moment to search your eyes. You stared up at him, panting slightly as you thought about it. His eyes were dark with lust, lips and cheeks flush and hair tousled as he waited for your answer. You shook your head.

"We need to be fast," you whispered, and he pounced on you immediately. His fingers wrapped around your jaw, holding your mouth open so he could plunge his tongue inside, swirling and flicking around yours with a groan.

"Turn 'round," he ordered gruffly while also spinning your body around to face the mirror. You watched his reflection with bated breath as he hiked your dress up and hooked your panties to the side. His ankle nudged yours so you would spread your legs wider, and you could feel the dampness at your core from the excitement. He dipped a finger along your folds while his other hand worked on his belt and jeans, inhaling sharply when he realized how wet you were already. His eyes flicked up to find yours in the mirror and he grinned, stroking his cock.

"Are you going to tease me or fuck me?" you asked, pushing your hips back against him.

"Think you did enough teasin' tonight for the two of us," he said, lining himself up before grabbing your hip. "Walkin' 'round in this dress, with these legs 'n this ass," he let his hand slide from your hip to squeeze your ass again as if to emphasize his point. "Guess that just leaves one thing."

He slammed into you hard with a grunt, knocking the air from your lungs as he buried himself inside you with one quick thrust. You bit down on your lower lip to keep from crying out, only a small whimper escaping while you focused on the delicious sting as you adjusted around him.

"Fuck, that's good," he gasped, looking down where you were connected so he could watch his cock as he shallowly thrusted in and out, giving you a few minutes to acclimate. Your head fell forward between your shoulders with a soft moan, gripping the edge of the sink as he pushed inside you over and over, the room filling with small gasps and groans from you both.

"Right there," you mumbled when he readjusted and found the angle that made you see stars. "Fuck, Joel, don't stop," you said with a whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the top of your head began to bump against the mirror with each snap of his hips.

His hand left your hip and came up to wrap around your hair. He gave it a firm tug and tipped your head back, your eyes flying open in surprise as you met his gaze in the mirror.

"Watch," he ordered, his jaw clenched as he continued to slam into you. "Watch how good you take me, want you to see what I get to see every time I fuck this perfect pussy," he muttered in your ear. You groaned, the filth pouring from his mouth driving you wild, the muscles in your stomach tensing as your orgasm built up.

He nibbled at your earlobe as he stared at you in the mirror, his thrusts coming so fast that your hip bones felt bruised already, but you pushed through it, relishing the idea of having a physical reminder of this moment for the next few days.

"See how lucky I am?" he continued while his other hand traveled down to rub messy circles over your clit, making your jaw fall open. "Look at you, look how wrecked you get from this cock." He wasn't wrong. Your eyes were glassy, either from the alcohol or unshed tears, you weren't sure. Your cheeks were flushed and lips swollen, hair an absolute mess now that Joel's fingers were tangled in it.

"Joel," you whimpered as you felt yourself clenching around him, right on the edge of release.

"I'm right here, I got you, c'mon, give it to me," he said with a grunt, his own climax quickly approaching. You slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle your low, drawn out moan as you came, your arousal soaking his cock and your head falling back on his shoulder.

"That's it, I got you," he whispered in your ear, your orgasm still rippling through you. "Fuck, so pretty when you come," he panted, his hips stuttering before he wrapped his arms around you, tightly holding you against his chest. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he came with a loud groan, your body hardly doing anything to muffle the sound.

With the back of your head still resting on his shoulder, your eyes slid shut, enjoying the afterglow for a few moments while his body shuddered behind you and his grip loosened.

Joel kept his hands on your arms to steady you as he pulled out, a curse leaving his lips in the process. He tucked himself back into his jeans with one hand, then met your eyes in the mirror.

"Can ya stand?" he asked you softly. You nodded and took a deep breath, unrolling some toilet paper to clean up the mess between your legs before fixing your underwear and dress.

You straightened up and looked at him leaning against the bathroom wall, watching you with a smug look on his face.

"You're an animal, you know that?" you said, pressing yourself against him with your chin resting on his chest and your arms around his waist.

"You love it," he replied before cupping your face in his hands and giving you a firm kiss.

The sound of a glass bottle breaking and a collective roar of taunts erupted from your kitchen, pulling you both out of your daze.

"Goddamnit, Tommy," Joel muttered, pushing himself off the wall to open the door. You heard him jokingly berating his brother as you quickly ran your fingers through your hair, making yourself look less fucked before rejoining the festivities.

The sun beamed through your curtains, brightness flashing across your eyelids, contributing more to the pounding already in your head. You buried your face into your pillow, willing the sun or the pain to cease before you were forced to get up for the day. Joel had already left early that morning for patrol, something you thought was cruel considering he was about to leave for the trip Tommy mentioned a few weeks ago during the party the very next day.

With a groan, you pushed yourself up, squinting to minimize the impact from the sun as you stumbled into the bathroom in search of something to numb the pain. Popping two white pills into your mouth, you leaned over the sink to drink from the faucet, swallowing the medicine before splashing your face with cold water, desperate to do anything that might help.

It was your day off from work, but you had promised Maria you would help her with inventory before the men made their trip, so you shoved on your jeans and a clean shirt and made your way downstairs, elated to find Joel had left the coffee machine on for you. You poured the remaining liquid into a thermos so you could take it on the go, hoping the caffeine combined with the Tylenol would diminish the throbbing between your eyes.

By the time you made it to the warehouse, your head seemed to be slightly better, although the ache was still persistent. You must not have been hiding your pain very well because when Maria saw you, she frowned.

"What happened to you?"

"No idea, I woke up with the worst migraine," you said with a groan and flopped down on a nearby chair.

"You trying to get out of helping me?" she teased, and you smirked.

"Me? Never," you replied, and took a tentative sip of coffee, your stomach immediately churning. With a grimace, you set down your drink and leaned forward to rub your temples.

"Did you drink last night?" Maria asked, setting down her clipboard. You shook your head.

"No. Maybe I'm coming down with something," you said with a sigh. "It'll pass. I just need a distraction. Where should I start?"

"How about toiletries? I already did medicine yesterday, and I'm working on dry goods right now," she said, nodding to the other side of the aisle. You stood and picked up the clipboard and pen she left for you and got to work counting shampoo bottles and tubes of toothpaste.

"So, what are you thinking for a dress?" you asked her over your shoulder. "There's that strip mall a few miles out, last I heard it was all clear. There was a little boutique there."

"I haven't even thought about it yet, but that's a good idea. Maybe we can sneak away while the boys are gone and check it out," she said with a grin.

"What's the deal with this new settlement, anyway? Joel said they have some weird name, I can't remember what he called them," you said, cursing under your breath when you saw the amount of toothbrushes you had to count.

"Fireflies," Maria responded. "Yeah, weird name. The way Tommy described them sounded like they were kind of intense, but they have a settlement in an old hospital a few cities away and they supposedly have tons of medicine we could use. Bill's running way too low on antibiotics."

"What was intense about them?" you asked, giving her your full attention now. You didn't like the idea of Joel walking into a potentially hostile situation.

"I guess they are trying to lead some revolution against FEDRA in the QZs. They're looking for weapons and stuff like that to trade," she explained.

"Well, hopefully they need toothbrushes because we have more than enough," you muttered, turning back to your task. "Is it safe?"

"Is anything safe anymore?" Maria replied with a shrug. "He wouldn't risk it if he thought they would get jumped, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah, I guess so," you said, getting back to work. As the morning wore on, you listened to Maria talk about the council she was trying to form to lead the town. She had been the leader of Jackson since you joined, and her intention was always to share the duties with others. The town grew so fast and she had a hard enough time keeping up with everything that needed to be done, so the formation of a town council took a backseat the past few years.

"Wanna take a break and eat something?" Maria asked after a few hours. You nodded. Your head was finally beginning to feel better and the thought of food perked you up a bit.

"Did you want to go to the mess hall or just grab something off the shelf here?" she asked, picking up a box of granola bars and examining the label before putting it back on the shelf.

"Let's just stay here, we're on a roll," you told her, putting your clipboard on the shelf to join her at the dry goods section, examining your choices. You decided on a protein bar and some dried fruit, but the moment you bit into the bar, you felt your stomach roll. You paused mid chew, trying to push through the nausea and swallow, but you couldn't do it. Glancing around the room quickly, you spotted a garbage can in the corner and raced over, spitting out your food with a dry heave as you clutched the basket, bracing yourself for another wave of nausea.

"Whoa!" Maria exclaimed, hurrying over to you. You hovered over the garbage, your breath coming in shaky gasps and tears pricking your eyes as you dry heaved again. Maria rubbed comforting circles on your back and scooped your hair out of the way as you caught your breath, the nausea fading to the point where you felt confident enough to sit back against the wall, squeezing your eyes shut.

"You alright?" Maria asked you after a minute, and you weakly nodded your head. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know, I must be getting sick," you said, opening your eyes to accept the bottle of water she handed you. "I've been feeling really run down lately, I probably got the flu."

"In the middle of summer?" she asked you with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged and took a small sip of water.

"Maybe I should go home, I don't want to get you sick," you said, pushing yourself up the wall to stand.

"Sure, go get some rest," Maria said, straightening up. "You just better not be pregnant before me," she added teasingly.

"I'm not pregnant, I just had my period," you said with a shake of your head.

"When?"

You paused for a moment as you thought about it, then your eyes went wide. Maria noticed, her eyes widening, too.

"Oh, my god," you whispered, slumping back down against the wall. "I think I'm late."

"How late?" Maria asked, joining you back on the floor.

"Maybe a week? That's not that bad, though, right?"

"No, it's not that late..." she agreed, trailing off. "Is that normal for you?"

"Not really," you said. "But maybe it's from stress. I've been worried about Joel going on this trip... oh shit, what am I going to tell Joel?" You pushed the heels of your hands roughly into your eyes with a groan.

"Why don't we find you a test first before you worry about that," Maria said, looking around at the shelves. "Did you find any pregnancy tests in the toiletries?"

"No, I think Kate used the last of them, and it's not like it's a high priority item for the guys on patrol," you said, jumping up to nervously pace around the room. "Oh fuck, what am I going to do?!"

Your breathing was getting shallower the more your anxiety flared up. A baby was not something you were sure you ever wanted, let alone right now. Coupled with the insecurities you had been feeling ever since Maria and Tommy got engaged, the timing couldn't have been worse. It wasn't too long ago you were barely able to keep yourself alive and safe, how could you possibly expect to care for a helpless infant? You were fortunate to have found Jackson and the security that brought with it, but if the wrong people found your town, who knows what would happen.

"Why don't I walk you home," Maria said, feeling useless. "You should rest... either way."

The walk home was quick. Luckily, no one had stopped either of you to chat. Maria ushered you inside, sitting you down on the couch before bringing you a glass of water and some crackers from your pantry.

"Let me talk to Tommy when he gets home. I'll see if he can get some tests-" she held her hands up when you whipped your head around to look at her, eyes widened in fear. "I'll say it's for me, I won't mention you, I promise. I'll say I want them on hand for when we start trying, or something."

"If I don't have my period by the time they get back from their trip, I think I'll have my answer, anyway," you said sullenly, burying your face in your hands.

Maria chewed her lip and nodded, knowing you were probably right. She resumed rubbing circles on your back as you leaned forward with your head between your knees, your head clouded with fear.

"I have to tell Joel," you whispered, a tear trickling down your cheek. "He'll know something's wrong, I-I can't keep this from him."

"Tommy can do the trip without Joel, this is more important," said Maria.

"Yeah," you mumbled, leaning back and staring at your hands twisted together in your lap. How could you be so stupid?

"Do you think you'll be okay, or do you want me to stay?" she asked you, worry written all over her face. You shook your head and offered her a weak smile.

"I'll be fine, I know you have a lot to do and I just bailed on you," you said, patting her arm. She stood up, looking down at you, putting a hand on your shoulder before leaving.

"You know, you really went too far to get out of work this time," she joked, earning a huff of laughter from you. "But listen. It'll be okay, no matter what happens. We will all help you guys out, if... you know. You won't be in this alone." She gave you a reassuring squeeze, and you smiled, putting your hand warmly over the top of hers.

"Thanks, Maria," you whispered. She nodded before dropping her hand, and you watched her walk out the front door, leaving you all alone, wondering how exactly you were going to tell Joel.

You remained frozen to the couch the rest of the afternoon, nibbling on crackers and your mind going a mile a minute, dreading the moment Joel would walk through the front door. Maybe it's a false alarm. Maybe you miscounted the days. You wondered if you should even tell him until you were sure, but you knew he would see right through you the second he got home.

Your heart jumped in your throat when you finally heard the front door swing open, squeezing your eyes shut to focus on your breathing as you heard him take off his boots and say your name.

"In here," you called out, forcing your eyes open and plastering a weak smile on your face as you stood to greet him.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said when he saw you, pulling you into his arms and planting a kiss on the top of your head.

"How was patrol?" you asked, stepping away and averting your gaze out the window.

"Long. I could kill Tommy for puttin' me on the schedule before this trip," he said, reaching down to the coffee table to grab your sleeve of abandoned crackers and tossing one in his mouth. "You and Maria wrap up early?" he asked with his mouth full. He turned to head towards the kitchen for a glass, filling it up at the sink as you remained planted in the living room, your fingers nervously fidgeting at your sides.

"Yeah," you said quietly. "Maria finished up without me."

He glanced over at you as he drank his water in one gulp, then wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand before sauntering back over.

"Good. Was thinkin' we can stay in tonight," he said as he wrapped his arms around you. "Gonna miss you," he added suggestively, his lips brushing against your temple before craning his neck lower to latch his mouth onto yours. He paused, sensing your tension for the first time, and drew back to examine you closer.

"What's wrong?" he asked, holding you at an arms length by your shoulders. You brought your hands up to cover his and took a shaky breath.

"I think you should sit down," you began. All the air rushed out of his lungs, panic squeezing his throat as his grip on your shoulders tightened.

"Why?" he asked as he fell back onto the sofa. His eyes never left yours as he waited, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. You sat down next to him and stared down at your hands, thinking about how to say it before deciding on just blurting it out.

"I'm late," you said, still avoiding his stare. There was a long pause before he replied.

"Late for what?" he asked, sounding confused. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a breath.

"My period, Joel," you said softly. You felt his body tense next to you, but you kept your eyes shut. "I... I don't know for sure, I couldn't find a test at the warehouse, but I thought you should know."

You could hear him breathing deeply next to you as he absorbed your words, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him as you continued to explain.

"I haven't been feeling very well lately, I thought I was getting sick but then I realized... I don't know, it might be nothing," you rambled, your voice jumping up an octave as tears filled your closed eyes. "But it might be something, too, and I feel so fucking stupid and scared-"

"Hey," he said softly, finally finding his voice as he put a hand on your knee. "C'mon, look at me," he urged, hooking a finger under your chin and turning your face towards him.

You opened your eyes, two tears falling in the process as you reluctantly looked at him. His gaze softened as he stared at you, wiping away your tears.

"We've always been careful, I don't..." he trailed off as he thought about it before the realization dawned on him. "The party," he said, his voice heavy as his hands dropped from your face and he hung his head. "Fuck."

"Yeah," you said softly, letting your eyes fall back to your lap. You leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees so you could bury your face in your hands. "I don't know what to do, Joel. I can't do this," you mumbled, trying to fight back the tears.

He sighed and leaned back into the couch, scratching his beard thoughtfully for a second.

"Well, it's a little ahead of schedule, but if you are, we'll handle it like we do everythin' else," he replied. Now that the shock was wearing off, he was starting to come around to the idea, flashes of piggyback rides and first steps playing in his mind.

"'Ahead of schedule'?" you repeated sharply, dropping your hands to frown at him.

"Yeah. I mean, I figured one day after we got married-"

"Wait, what?" you asked, your voice rising as you stood up from the couch. "We never discussed any of this, Joel."

His brow furrowed, standing up as well and looking at you with confusion.

"Then let's discuss it now," he said, watching as you paced around the room.

You stopped pacing and stood across from him, eyeing him carefully as you crossed your arms.

"Do you really think it's responsible to bring a child into this world?" you asked him, your voice barely a whisper. He stared at you, his jaw ticking to the side as he thought about his answer.

"Probably not. But I don't think it's right to keep ourselves from bein' happy, either," he said with a shrug. "Gotta keep livin' our lives."

You searched his eyes for a moment as the weight of his words hit you. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself for your next question.

"So, what you're saying is getting married and having kids would make you happy?"

"'Course it would," he replied easily without a second thought. He frowned when he noticed the anguish flit across your face, and suddenly he realized there was a bigger problem. He swallowed roughly. "But it sounds like it wouldn't make you happy."

Tears welled up in your eyes. You tore your gaze away, unable to handle the hurt that was so clearly evident on his face.

"I'm happy the way things are," you said, your voice small. "I don't think I'm ready for... all that."

He nodded, clenching his jaw as he tried to keep the emotion from his voice.

"But one day?" he managed to ask, his throat suddenly feeling tight, worried about the answer.

"I-," you began to respond, then faltered, trying to find the right words. "I don't know, Joel," you finally said, your eyes glued to the floor as shame flooded your body.

He sniffed and put his hands on his hips, turning away from you to try to hide his pain, but it was palpable. The room was filled with tension and unspoken words. You couldn't believe you were breaking his heart like this. Closing your eyes, you wished more than anything you felt normal, that you wanted what he wanted, but you couldn't force it. You took a shaky breath before speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Joel. You don't deserve this, I'm fucked up," you whispered. "If those are things that would make you happy, you shouldn't have to sacrifice-"

"Don't you dare finish that fuckin' sentence," he said, and although his back was to you, you could tell his teeth were clenched as he spoke. You clamped your mouth shut, tears silently spilling down your cheeks.

"Joel-" you tried again, but he cut you off, whipping around to face you, his eyes glassy and his brow furrowed.

"You might be pregnant with my kid and this is how you tell me how you really feel?" he spat, his harshness making you recoil.

"I love you," you sobbed, wrapping your arms around yourself, tears flowing freely now.

"Not enough to wanna marry me, though," he said, and you weren't sure what hurt more: the words or the sadness that laced his voice.

"That's not fair," you whispered, tucking your chin into your chest.

"You're right. None of this is fair," he said, turning on his heel and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" you asked, taking a few steps forward so you could watch him walk down the hall.

"Out," he said curtly, and you winced. He paused with his hand on the door and dropped his head forward with a sigh. "I gotta think," he added softly without turning to look at you, then disappeared through the door, leaving you to collapse on the ground all alone in a hell of your own making.

You curled up on the couch that night waiting for him to come home, but fell asleep and didn't hear the door open or his feet on the stairs. You didn't wake until you heard the shower early the next morning. Sitting up from the couch, you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes when you felt the familiar, telltale cramping in your stomach. After going to the bathroom, you confirmed your suspicions.

You sat at the kitchen table until Joel came down the stairs, trying to be quiet until he realized you were already awake and waiting for him. He paused when he saw you at the table, but quickly averted his gaze to the cupboard to find his thermos.

"I'm not pregnant," you said quietly. His shoulders tensed for a moment, then lifted the coffee pot, pouring it into the tumbler before turning around to face you.

"You must be relieved," he said coldly. Your lower lip trembled and you stood up from the table to go to him, but he stepped away, creating more distance.

"I'll be back in a few days," he said, casting you a somber glance before turning towards the door.

You stood there, your hands tangling together in front of you, unsure what to do or say to fix this pain you caused. He stopped in front of the door, about to leave, but turned back one more time to look at you.

"Just tell me right now if you don't want me," he said, the expression on his face breaking your heart.

"I want you," you said immediately, and you swore you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes at how fast you responded. "I love you, Joel. So much. And I'm so sorry."

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes searching your puffy, tear stained face before giving you a firm nod, then turned to leave, closing the door softly behind him.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Old Tricks - P3

A/N: Now I can’t stop writing…

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ themes, fluff.

Find Part 1 & Part 2 here ;)

.

Your husband was missing. Again.

And right after promising that he wouldn’t be late for movie night.

Movie nights. Something you had designated every once in a while complete with buttery popcorn and candy and lots of fluffy pillows and blankets.

Sighing, you finished your glass of wine while his lay untouched and made your way downstairs where he was probably killing his back over some invention.

As suspected, there he was, deep in conversation with his virtual best friend, FRIDAY. You hadn’t decided whether to let this go or go up to him and remind him of what he’d missed. It didn’t hurt you because you had lived with the man long enough to understand he never did it on purpose.

Curiosity had gotten the better of you when you squinted to see what he was up to, watching your husband scroll through pictures that resembled…sex toys?

“Let’s keep the face plate easily retractable too, the wife has a thing for neck kisses and so do I.”

Tony murmured, mostly to himself but he made amendments to the project in front of him, fingers gliding over the keyboard to put his words into actuality. He had lost track of time but only because it was directed towards a little present he had been working on, for you.

Unknown to him, you were standing back within earshot, watching him work with a mixture of shock and amusement on your face.

“I mean, I know Y/N loves coming on my fingers just as much. Maybe we could tweak the suit? Add additional modes on the vibrators too.”

Sure, boss.

Blush crept up your cheeks as his words fell on your ears, it was as if he was discussing any other modification to be done to his Iron Man suits. You tiptoed inside, not wanting to announce your presence just yet as Tony Stark - the successor of Stark Industries, genius inventor, world-renown superhero and philanthropist continued his back and forth with the AI.

You watched as prototypes holograms of his suit showed up, the alterations he spoke about highlighted along with detailed description of its features. The man ran his fingers through his hair, leaving them a glorious mess before walked around the table as if to get a whole 360 view.

Clearing your throat finally, you stifled a laugh as your husband jumped with a hand over his heart.

“Jesus Christ! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Chuckling, you wrapped your arms around the man and reached up to give him a soft kiss. He sighed and hugged you, rubbing your back gently.

“You know among the things I presumed you do down here, I never imagined I’d catch you doing this. I also didn’t realise we had branched out to Adults Toys R Us.” You giggled when Tony playfully slapped your butt, joining in your laughter.

“It was supposed to be a surprise and a silly little gift. For the countless dates I’ve missed, I’m sorry.” He stared at his feet, scratching the back of his neck almost nervously.

“So you’re making me an apology sex toy? You continue to amaze me, Mr. Stark.” You murmured, making him look up at you again before pressing your lips to his lightly.

The man truly was unbelievable.

“What did I miss?” He asked earnestly, guilt evidently reflecting in his brown eyes.

“Our movie night. But it’s okay, I won’t hold it against you. Especially not if promise to reveal what all of this is about.”

Chuckling lowly, Tony planted his head on your shoulder, letting out a tired sigh and a purr the moment your fingers ran through his hair, comforting him.

“Am I going to get a demo or what?” You turned towards his work station while still keeping your arms around him.

“Nope. It’s still a work in progress.” Tony shrugged, swiftly shutting down his work.

“Oh come on, Tony! At least tell me something about it, what does it look like, how do I use it—”

“Oh no, you’re not going to use it. I am.”

You frowned, coaxing him to continue, now that he’d really got your interest piqued. It wasn’t surprising that he would design something like this without involving an element of ‘him’ in it.

“You’re giving me a present that’s meant to be used by you? Hmm, I’m not so sure if I want it now..” you teased, welcoming Tony as he slotted himself between your legs, caging you in by placing both his arms on either side.

“Oh you want it, alright. I’ve made sure it’s everything you’d wished for and more.”

“Hmm.. I would like some more details before I decide how I feel about this present.” Your arms naturally found their way behind his neck, excitement already building deep within as your little banter continued.

“Well?”

“Let’s just say all of your suit kink prayers have been answered, Mrs. Stark.”

No smut just yet 🤭

[via-l0ve]

Would You Love Me If I Was A Worm? (Spn headcannons)

a/n: Call me cringe all you want, i know this trend is old but i love it lol. also, i am getting to requests but i thought this was cute and i wanted to do it! <3

warnings: not really much, use of y/n and swearing. Characters and reader talk back and forth and i hope it’s not too confusing lol

characters included: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley

reminder that i am accepting requests for spn, but check my boundary page <33

Dean:

- he thinks for like two seconds before just nodding.

- “yeah, probably.”

- “i don’t know how i’d kiss you though. what if i accidentally kissed your ass?”

- “I know you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally kissed my worm-ass.”

- “what the hell are you guys talking about?” - a tired Sam

- dean rethinks his statement after like two days and just randomly brings it up again

- “y/n, if you were a worm you could NOT sit in the impala. i don’t want your worm juices on my seats.”

- “oh my god. what if i stepped on you by accident?”

- “this is too much responsibility.” he is overwhelmed LMFAOO

- he would love you if you were a teeny tiny bug

Sam

- huh

- flabbergasted

- “say it again?”

- “why are you asking? do you plan on turning into a worm?”

- “no. just curious.”

- he gives you the whole pros and cons

- “we would have a language barrier separation :(“

- thinks about it for a good ten minutes

- “i think it would be too sad, y/n.”

- “what! so you wouldn’t love me? :(“

- “no, no! i would love you i just don’t think we could have a relationship. it would be weird.”

- “SAMMY?”

- “IM SORRY Y/N!”

- in denial smh

- what a loser/j

- he’d love you but it would be a star-crossed lovers type thing i guess smh

Castiel:

- looks at you and tilts his head to the side

- “i would never let you turn into a worm, y/n.”

- “okay but what if i did?”

- “i suppose i’d care for you and feed you?”

- “so would you love me?”

- “maybe?”

- he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit

- “i know a lot of languages. i could learn worm-talk for you.”

- i love him

- you mean so much to him that nothing, not even wormdom, would stop him from loving you.

- AW

Crowley

- “a worm?”

- “yeah.”

- “hell no. they’re slimy and gross.”

- “CROWLEY!”

- “well it’s true, love.”

- he’s honest 🤷‍♀️

- “you’re so mean :(“

- “well you’re not a worm, love. so we have nothing to worry about.”

- “but what if i turned into a worm one day?”

- he js shakes his head

- “how could a worm date a demon? i’d accidentally kill you and your small invertebrate self!”

- “we could make it work!”

- “love.”

- he’s tired LMFAO

- “what would our wedding look like? ugly. that’s what it would look like.”

- “crowley!!”

[storiesoflilies]

school bus love (5)

synopsis: it’s high time to throw caution to the wind, don’t you think?

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader

warnings: none.

a/n: i just wanted to say that I absolutely adore all the comments saying this drabble series is making you nostalgic. besides me telling you all a bit about myself, the main goal really was to create a slice of life piece that makes people reminisce their school days xo

part 4

today was momentous.

freedom was teasing her, dangling sweet summer fruits and the smell of sea salt in front of her. she gritted her teeth, her wrist aching as she frantically wrote the final few sentences of her last question. the clock was ticking, and it would all be over soon.

three.

two.

one…

“that’s it, everyone! time’s up!”

she had never packed up her things so fast in her life, practically shoving her way through the throng of students gathering outside the exam hall. all she could think about was feeling the warm sun on her skin and seeing the patches of blue between the jagged white clouds. today marked the final exam she had to sit, and she was now completely free for the summer.

in a exactly a week’s time, she would be sunning herself on the beach, swimming through crystal-clear waters, and snacking on crunchy slices of watermelon in the shade of palm trees with her best friends. in a week’s time, she would be back home for a whole month, a prospect that should make her buzz with excitement, if not for the nagging reminder of just one thing.

she wouldn’t be seeing toji.

they’d had a handful of conversations over the past three weeks, but nothing more had progressed. she still wasn’t sure if he really liked her, and she was starting to become convinced that she had to cut her losses. it was becoming exhausting overanalyzing toji’s every word, trying to decipher any hidden meanings in his messages and figuring out times when he might have been glancing at her too.

the chase was quite boring without much progress to show for it, and it was a hard pill to swallow that toji probably just wasn’t into her the way she wanted him to be.

she put her headphones and tuned out the world – and all thoughts of toji – attempting to bask in the sheer relief of having finished her exams, which had all gone relatively well. later that night, after pampering herself with an extra self-care routine in the shower, she called her friends for a celebratory gaming session. naturally, she aired out her frustrations about her gorgeous boy.

“i’m just worried the conversation is gonna completely fizzle out, ya know?” she ranted, rapidly clicking her mouse buttons. “it’s not like we’ll be on the bus together anymore.”

“oh my god, girl. i literally agree with your mom,” asa suddenly snapped, taking her aback in shock. “why don’t you just ask him on a date right now?”

“r-right now?” she sputtered. “i can’t do that.”

“why not? if he says no, then you’ll know if he doesn’t like you, and you can move on,” morgoth hummed, a rare voice of reason for once.

that was a whole lot easier said than done.

could she even do something so bold? she doubted she was courageous enough for something like that, and she was still clinging to her little girl dream of being asked out by a boy on her first date. her heart started to pound as it battled with her mind, her soul watching the back and forth she was having within herself.

suddenly, a thread snapped, and the raging waves stilled as if nothing had ever happened.

fuck it.

she left the game, earning cries of protest and anger from her friends, and whipped open her notes app on her phone. if she thought too much, she would chicken out and change her mind. after typing a dozen variations of how she was going to phrase the message, she finally settled on one and quickly copied and pasted it into their snapchat conversation.

hey toji, are you free by any chance to hang out tomorrow? x

and hit send.

oh…

she hit send.

she.

hit.

send.

“holy fucking shit,” she whispered incredulously, a sense of dread spreading from her head to her toes.

morgoth grunted, “what happened now?”

“i just asked toji out on a date tomorrow,” she replied, voice cracking with electric nerves.

her friends both sputtered and coughed at the same time. “fuck off, no you didn’t,” asa said, obviously shell-shocked with a hint of excitement. “tomorrow?!”

“what do you mean ‘fuck off’?! you told me to do it,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and rocking back and forth on her bed.

“hah! well, what did you say?”

“i just asked him if he wanted to hang out tomorrow, and i put an ‘x’ at end to kind of… i don’t know, flirt i guess?”

her friends both cackled, and heat rose to her chest and face.

toji fushiguro is typing…

she gasped, more so screamed, “guys, fuck! oh my god, oh my god! he’s typing.”

“that was quick,” commented morgoth under his breath.

toji fushiguro has sent you a chat!

another shrill gasp. “guys, he replied!”

“leave it!” asa giggled, his giddiness infectious and making her laughter bubble out of her chest. “don’t be a desperate bitch.”

“fuck you, he replied quick! I’m not gonna just sit here and wait.”

toji fushiguro: yeah should be free for a bit tomorrow, when were you thinking?

oh my.

oh my…

“what’s he saying, huh?” asa giggled again.

“something good, i guess. her breathing suddenly got quicker,” morgoth chuckled, his laughter reverberating through his microphone.

hmm not sure haha, whenever you’re free i guess, i’m free all day tomorrow

play it cool. play it cool, goddamn it.

toji fushiguro: yeah, what about some time in the afternoon sure?

yeah sweet, does 4 sound okay or is that too late?

toji fushiguro: yeah 4 should be sweet, sounds good

aight, where do you wanna go? i still don’t know the good places to go to lmao

toji fushiguro: tbh i have no idea, sure like let’s just see when we meet up what you’re feeling

“hehe, guys, he says it’s up to what i’m feeling.”

ahaha ok then, where do you wanna meet up then?

toji fushiguro: oh yeah shit, uh you know where like the big wheel kinda is at the seafront? we could meet up there if you want?

the ferris wheel ahaha?

toji fushiguro: yeah the big wheel ahahah, literally the most recognizable place i could think of in town

haha ok no worries, i’ll see you tomorrow then, i’ll text you when i get there :)

toji fushiguro: yeah see you tomorrow x

she wasn’t a physical being limited to the confines of her bedroom anymore. no, she was limitless and infinite, soaring with ravens among the indigo clouds of twilight, her heart leaping with every sudden dip of their wings. life was good, life was meaningful, and holy shit. toji fushiguro had agreed to go on her very first date ever with her.

“guys.”

“what?”

“he sent me an ‘x’, and we’re going on a date tomorrow.”

p.s: fun fact, these are the actual text messages i sent to my boyfriend the day i asked him out :3

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[foodtruckery]

(Abo anon) your ideas are making me FERAL I'm so obsessed with how you characterize the brothers and god poor stan has been THROUGH it. But oh?? My gosh??? The imagery of stan working himself through his heat in the basement, fantasizing about stanford YOOOO I'm just imagining him trying to basically fist himself as a makeshift knot and imagining if his hand had just one more finger- and then losing himself a little bit at the thought (which he will then bury deep deep down in the "do not touch" box of his mind)

I wonder if ford questioned what could have caused the damage to his first journal lmfao or if he noticed it at all (I'm sure if stan ever tells him about it hed blue screen over the mental image)

And ofc stan would absolutely try to brush the whole event aside even if the smart thing to do is just stay off supressents (I'm glad you brought up his age because I WAS wondering if him being older would actually affect his likelihood of having heats) stan is gonna crush this all down under gravity falls new fav phrase "never mind all that"

Until ford realizes what stans planning and throws a fit I assume lol bro probably tries to play it off like hes worried for stans health but in reality hes just does NOT want to give up his deepest fantasy come to life

Which reminds me (I would apologize for yapping but I'm just meeting your energy here lmao) the idea of ford putting stan in his place of the hierarchy when he comes back through the portal? I keep thinking about the "what if" of that. Like. Would stans suppressants fail or would he just have to play along and pretend hes an alpha getting bitched? If it's the former I imagine ford (because as smart as he is, hes still an idiot) would somehow assume he MADE stan into an omega right there and then lmfao before stan corrects him ofc

I feel like I should start signing these off with something so I dont have to keep putting abo anon at the top lmfao

hahahaha! by all means, if you wanna have a sign off or an emoji or something, i'm all for it! especially considering at this point you've basically become my primary co-conspirator for this shit -- you know that right??

because, see, YOU GET IT. the way i yelled at the 'trying to fist himself to emulate ford's knot' comment like fuck yeah buddy, absolutely. i like to think that once he had his head on straight again, stan tried really hard to clean the journal up as much as possible, but there's not a ton to do for where it stained, or where pages got, ahem, wet and then dried out of shape. but if he calls it water stains most people aren't gonna look twice (most people will never even SEE this damn book), and honestly he'd be a liiiiittle bit relieved that it gets torched.

but he does probably slip up or get comfortable enough later on, when things are out in the open and a little more relaxed, where he makes a joke about it. spills a little water or coffee or something on whatever new journal ford is maintaining of their seafaring adventures, and laughing it off as "hey, not the worst thing i've ever gotten on one of these things, quit griping, would ya?" and ford's like "what is THAT supposed to mean?" and yeah, absolutely fucking bluescreens when he eventually gets the story out of stan because first of all, how did that even work and second of all, the idea of carrying around his journal knowing it's stained with slick he got out of stan? my mans is a mess.

and yes! i was thinking that the reason stan is still having heats at all at this age is largely due to how badly he fucked over his own cycles for most of his life and then just going cold turkey off all of them cause eh! he doesn't need that shit anymore. like it probably wouldn't actually be that big of a deal if it was just suppressants - lots of people take those! - or just beta or alpha pheremones. but going back and forth between all of them, getting a lot of those drugs from less-than-reputable sources to keep the secret safe, mixing shit he shouldn't have or taking enough expired stuff? frankly he should be less concerned with still getting heats and more concerned with checking his fucking liver or something.

and yeah, the easiest way to deal is definitly just to grab more drugs and nip this shit in the bud the way that's always worked. but ford is Not About That at all. catch his ass upending pills into the ocean if that's what it takes. and of course it's for stan's health, it's clearly not good for him to be on these drugs, and also what is there to worry about if it happens again? ford isn't going anywhere, he can help if stan needs him to, as many times as he needs him to. and stan is the one who said he didn't care about presenting as an omega nowadays, right? why upend all that over something so silly?

(and you know damn well at this point that we're just yappers, keep it coming) cause like I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS TOO. about if they had gotten into it when ford came back through the portal. like other than some posturing and shit (okay like a LOT of posturing when it comes to some jackasess, cue bud for example), stan probably hasn't been legitimately threatened by an alpha in ages. and back when that did happen more regularly, stan is used to punching above his weight class, and probably hasn't been on the "bitch" end of a bitching in a long fucking time. probably hasn't even been on the receiving end of regular sex in a hot minute, as much for general preference as to keep up appearances.

but even when he has dealt with prick alphas trying to make a point since settling into gravity falls, they definitely weren't as worked up and aggressive as ford is after coming through that portal. and it's absolutely never happeend in the room where he has, in fact, gone into heat at least once. or with, y'know, ford himself. so yeah, it's absolutely possible that it's a perfect storm for triggering a heat. or, if not triggering a full on heat, it may trigger more biological bullshit; producing more slick than he has outside of a heat since he was in his damn 20's. and ford would ABSOLUTELY ASSUME he had done that -- which YEAH okay technically he did, but not because he has a magical dick, ford you moron.

it might actually kill stan to let ford think that bullshit if it means getting to keep up appearanaces for a little longer.

[fruitcoops]

You have some awesome friendship fics when Remus and Lily do manis and go shopping. Have you thought of one where Remus is there when Lily gets her wedding dress or she is there to get him fitted for his suit for his own wedding. Or the same with James/Sirius although I’m not sure how that would work with Reg.

Fic O'Ween Day 2: Candle Wax to continue the excellent friendship vibes from yesterday. Big fest thanks to @noots-fic-fests and character credit goes to @lumosinlove.

TW brief mention of alcohol

“Give it a spin.”

“…I don’t want to.”

“Then put it back.”

“What if it’s the one?”

Remus’ entire face scrunched with a frown in the mirror behind her. “Lily,” he began, with as much concern as if she had just told him the sky was actually emerald green. “Why would you buy a wedding dress you don’t want to spin in?”

“He’s right,” Natalie chimed in, swirling her rosé with a critical glance over Lily’s skirt. “You deserve better.”

“What if—”

“Literally your one requirement was to be able to spin, babygirl.”

Lily studied herself in the mirror again. The dress was pretty and creamy and light around her legs. The bow at the back wasn’t bad, perhaps a little oversized, but that could be fixed. It was already five o’clock, anyway. Two hours should be more than enough time to find a wedding dress.

“You don’t like it,” Remus said gently.

“No,” she sighed. “Not that much.”

“Then try a different one.”

Natalie brightened. “Yeah, what about that off-the-shoulder number? With the sweetheart neckline?”

Lily tipped her head back and forth. “My tits were falling out.”

“Exactly.”

“You do love when James makes a fool of himself,” Remus added.

The fabric slid in a smooth cascade beneath her palms. Probably damp palms. Was it alright for her to touch this fabric when she was nervous? Why was she nervous, anyway? It was her wedding. Her James. Natalie was right—she deserved the dress of her dreams. Lily knew her dreams better than anyone else and always had, through Petunia, through her Master’s, through a whole-ass baby. A dress should be the easiest thing in the world to choose.

“You liked the flowers, right?” Remus suggested, picking at the edge of his phone case. “On the…what was it, the third one?”

“The fourth.” Natalie nodded. “That’s the one with the sweetheart neckline.”

It was a nice dress. And she did like the florals. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Never mind.”

“What?”

“You’re not getting a ‘yeah, I guess’ dress,” Natalie said firmly. “Fuck that. You’re getting an ‘oh my god, I love this, I’m going to make every single guest cream their pants when they see me’ dress.”

“I—”

“What did you like about them?” Remus asked. “The other dresses.”

“I…” Lily trailed off. Her raw inner lip pinched when she nibbled at it. Jesus, her palms really did feel fucking soaked. “I don’t like this fabric. Or the bow. I liked the flowers from the other dress, but I want them smaller. The buttons on the bodice were nice.”

“Remind me what the bodice is?” she heard Remus whisper.

“The top,” Natalie whispered back before raising her voice again. “How about you take that thing off and we look together, hon? Three pairs of eyes are better than one.”

The surge of relief in her belly was a surprise, but not unwelcome. Lily examined the way it lay against her thighs for a moment longer before pursing her lips. “I don’t know, you guys have better things to—”

Immediate protests—far too loud for the pristine establishment—burst from both. “I’m not listening to that,” Remus warned. “Nuh-uh. This is a Lily day and I have the calendar invite to prove it.”

Natalie watched her in the mirror with a dangerous arch to her eyebrow. “You gave me rosé, my hot bestie, and pretty clothes to look at. Don’t take this from me. Now, tell us where to go and we will be your little wedding minions for as long as your heart desires.”

Lily loved her. Dearly. She glanced back once more and caught Remus’ eye, and his encouraging smile. “Calendar invite?”

“Midnight to midnight, Evans.”

“Florals, buttons, and something I can sweat in. Oh, and spin.” She shook her head. “Why did I pick a July wedding?”

Natalie stood and placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders, leaving them nearly eye-to-eye with the help of the pedestal beneath her. Her palms were pleasantly cool on Lily’s overheated skin. “Because you can’t fucking wait to marry James Potter, you utter legend.”

--

Two hours.

Fourteen more dresses.

Lily rolled a fine satin petal between her fingertips, dragged her palms up her waist, down over her belly, across the swell of her thighs. The pale green chiffon faded to blush and back in loose waves over the solid ivory beneath. She rested her weight on her other side and followed the tender shimmer where the light caught each movement. The straps were broad, yet elegant—fawn-colored buttons tracked from the valley of her chest to the top of the skirt, where small flowers had been stitched in rows that dripped through the folds like warm candle wax.

“She looks so fucking gorgeous, I’m gonna cry.”

“I know. Jesus. That’s gotta be it.”

“Did you find that one?”

“Mhmm.”

“Nice, Lupin. Hook it up.” A soft high-five interrupted their muttering. “Can you pick out my wedding dress?”

“Propose to Bliz first. Then we can talk.”

“What do you think?” Lily called over her shoulder. She didn’t bother looking away from the mirror; she looked too good for that.

“Stellar as always, Lils,” Remus answered with a firm thumbs-up.

“Creaming myself as we speak,” Natalie chimed in. “Honestly, babe, you’re beautiful beyond belief. The dress just makes it even clearer.”

She gave a little sway to watch it ripple around her ankles—Remus’ sharp whistle made her jump, though it soon turned to laughter. He drummed his hands on either side of the armchair. “Come on, come on, do the spin—oh, there she goes!”

Natalie whooped. “Throw that ass in a circle, baby! You and me are getting down at that reception.”

A blush heated Lily’s face and neck as she laughed, still spinning, but it looked—fuck, it looked so pretty when Lily caught herself in the mirror again. The dappled colors of the dress warmed her away from fire-engine red, highlighting the pinks of her skin and auburn of her hair where it fell over her shoulder. I want pictures of this, she thought. I want a photo album of pictures where I’m in this dress, and I want James Potter to cry when he sees me in it. “I look so hot right now.”

“You so do,” Remus agreed. They were both leaning forward in their chairs, hands clasped. Lily briefly imagined asking them to find her another dress, just to watch them goggle at her.

But she wasn’t sure she’d take this one off for a million dollars.

“Is it…” Natalie pressed her lips together, eyes gleaming. “Lily?”

She was nodding before the words even began to come out. “This is my wedding dress.”

“Yes!”

“This is my fucking Stanley Cup, oh my god.” Natalie held both hands to her cheeks and turned to Remus, bouncing on her toes. “Oh my god, oh my god, wedding dress—”

“Wedding, wedding, wedding, Lily don’t you dare make us celebrate without you—”

Lily laughed and gathered the skirt up off the floor; it was only a short step to the ground before they were on her with all the force of an ecstatic hurricane. Natalie’s arms were a vice around her waist while Remus held them both and pressed a smacking kiss to the top of her head. She hoped this bodice had proper boning, because her chest was simply going to explode with the light radiating inside her.

“I’m so happy for you,” Remus mumbled against the side of her head. “And I’m so excited, and you look so pretty, and I’m so proud of you.”

Natalie was there in half a second to brush her thumbs over Lily’s cheekbones and ease the lump in her throat. “Look at you,” she whispered, beaming. “Look at you!”

“I know.” She laughed again and it came out a bit choked. Natalie made a small, sympathetic sound as Remus pulled a pack of tissues from his back pocket, but Lily waved them off with a few fast blinks. “God, it’s—happy tears, I promise. I’m so happy. Can I get married tonight?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

Remus nodded, still offering the tissues. “Say the word, I’ll call James right now. I think he wanted to get married the night of the Cup.”

“Only took him eight years to ask,” Lily grumbled.

Their burst of laughter made several people across the store glance over, reducing them to hushed giggling in the best huddle Lily had ever been part of.

--

Soft, pastel thread bumped beneath James’ thumb as he ran it along the cuff on his suit. The pockets and lapels held much of the same—microscopic flowers, leaves, and patterns stitched into matte black fabric under Lily’s incredibly cryptic guidance.

“Looks damn good.”

“Ahblahablah!”

James tilted his shoulders this way and that. There had to be some square inch he was missing. Nothing in the world could possibly be this right. Then again, he was marrying Lily Evans, and that was pretty damn perfect. “D’you think her dress matches the suit?”

Sirius’ eyes flickered to the ground for a half-second. “…probably.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Maybe.”

Something in James’ stomach gave a funny swoop. A Lily swoop. “How did she look?”

Sirius’ laugh made Harry squeal around the fistful of t-shirt (definitely Remus’) he had shoved in his mouth. “Dude,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “You’re going to lose your mind.”

[kit04kat]

Ranking the batfamily most to least likely to become a supervillian. (Plus all my ramblings about why I put who where [disclaimer, i have not read the comics due to me not having that kind of money]) I started thinking about this while reading a fanfiction where Dick, Jason and Tim were taken in by villians instead of Batman and it got me thinking. Anyways, let's get to the rankings.

1: Tim Drake. Starting off strong with our resident boy-genius with stalker tendencies. This may shock some of you, but I look at this human disaster and see a plethora of supervillian potential. You take away this man's adult supervision and the world may never be the same. What was happening with the league of assassins? And the fact that he tried to clone his best friend out of grief? Also I feel like we all skimmed over the fake uncle shenanigans too quickly. I once saw someone say something like Tim's moral code is copy-pasted off a house rules sticky note on the fridge and I agree.

2: Jason Todd. Seriously, we all saw this coming. Now, you might ask me, "but Kat, why is Jason at number 2? Didn't Red Hood already do the villian thing?" And to that I say, Ha! I am ranking them on supervillianiousness(???) Jason had his whole revenge plot and crime lord thing in Gotham but after that was done, he kinda settled out a little bit. So no, I don't think Jason has ever been a supervillian, just a villian, and after that he was more like an antihero/vigilante. That being said, I don't think he is incapable of being a supervillian, which is why he is number 2.

3: Stephanie Brown. Ok, I'm gonna be honest, I was really wavering on the order of the people in the middle. Also, I'm not gonna claim to know a whole lot about the adventures Steph has been through. That being said, I feel like she is just a tad bit more unhinged than the rest of the people in the middle, and therefore more likely to go insane. And if she had the proper motivation, she could totally be a badass supervillian. (Kind of reminds me of Jason in that way)

4: Damian Wayne. Alright, here's the thing. A lot of Damian's character development has been about him overcoming his heritage and learning that the things he learned with the league of assassins were bad. That being said, I don't think he will ever leave behind those ideologies as thoroughly as Cass and Bruce did. I think he sees the world in a lot more shades of grey than they ever will, and because of that, I've decided to put him forth on our list.

5: Barbara Gordon. I'm putting Oracle right smack dab in the middle. Not because I couldn't figure out where to put her, but because that's where she belongs. Listen, do I think she would ever become a supervillian? No, not really. However, if for some reason she had to become a supervillian, she'd be able to do it. If she ever turned to the dark side, it would be completely thought out. Calculated. And my girl doesn't do anything half-assed.

6: Duke Thomas. Now, Imma be honest, I don't know a whole lot about Duke, and I didn't really know where the best place to put his would be on this lineup. I put him in 6th cause I don't think he'd turn into a supervillian but he's more likely than the last three. He probably deserves to go further up the list, but oh well.

7: Bruce Wayne. I know some people will probably say he should be further up the list, but here is my reasoning. Batman's whole kinda thing is that he's always toeing the line. He's doesn't kill because he knows he wouldn't be able to stop. He is Darkness, Vengeance, the night, all that stuff. (It's why Batman needs a Robin) If he broke, he'd be broken. I don't think he'd be able to come back from that (I also disagree with myself a bit, cause there's no way his kill count is 0. I mean, he's been beating people up at night instead of therapy for decades) Anyways, that being said, man is stubborn and has been doing this vigilante stuff for a longggg time. I simply don't think he's gonna turn.

8: Dick Grayson. We are getting towards the bottom of the list here, to the people I think are least likely to become a supervillian. Dick has been through so much. With Renegade, Red X, Spiral, whatever was up with Ric, he took up the cowel and became Batman when Bruce was gone (which is something he never wanted to do), he's had so many of his friends die, family die, and that's not even all! He's been through a lot, but he's also the light to batman's dark. He's been through all that and still chooses to be good. There's no way he's ever becoming a supervillian (even if it is a very interesting plot in fanfiction)

9: Cassandra Cain. Last but certainly not least, Cass. I personally think she is the least likely to become a supervillian. She was raised as a weapon and taught to kill, but she has completely overcome that. She won't kill at all, much like Bruce, but she's also more emotionally sound. Her morals are strict, and she doesn't have to fight with herself to keep them. I love her so much, truly one of the best of us.

I'm gonna put Alfred as a honorable mention. He doesn't get to go on the list cause honestly, if he ever became a villian, it's over. He's have the world in his clutches before the week is over. Gotta respect him for having the patience of a saint.

This was so long! Anyways, feel free to add to this or tell me how you would rank them differently!!

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Sakuya Sakuma | [SR] A Creation Come to Life | Artistic Appreciation in a Certain Village

Izumi: Thanks for coming shopping with me, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: It’s nothing! I’m glad I could help.

Izumi: That reminds me, you’re supposed to take PR photos that pay homage to the paintings for an exhibition at an art museum, right?

Izumi: Have you decided which painting you want to go with, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: They gave me a list of the paintings in the museum and I’ve looked at a lot of them, but I’m still lost.

Sakuya: As I went through the list, I was like “That one’s nice” and “This one’s nice too”...

Izumi: There are just so many works it’s hard to decide, isn’t it?

Izumi: I hope you find a painting that you like, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Yeah! I’ll try to look for one.

???: Ohh! May I have that one!?

Sakuya: …Hm? That voice…

Izumi: Citron-kun?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: I knew it, it’s Citron-kun.

Sakuya: It looks like he’s playing a game with some kids.

Citron: Sakuya! Director! Come over here!

Sakuya: Hello.

Children: Hello!

Citron: Were you two out shopping?

Sakuya: Yeah! What game are you playing with everyone, Citron-san?

Citron: It is a game where you build a village that we have been playing for a while now!

Izumi: Ah, that was a fireworks display just now!

Citron: Yes~. We will have another fireworks display next time because I would like you two to see it!

Citron: I am still playing back and forth between everyone’s villages.

Child A: He was just showing us some of the paintings from the art museum in the Village of Citron!

Child B: Citron’s collection is amazing!

Citron: It is thanks to everyone that I have been able to gather all of these! Everyone was giving the things that I had not collected yet to me!

Sakuya: Waah, it’s just an art museum within a game, but those are really authentic paintings! 

Izumi: They really are, it’s incredible.

Child A: Anyway, this is probably the only one I can give you right now, Citron~.

Child B: Me too.

Citron: Thank you! That is perfect!

Sakuya: …

Sakuya: Um, Citron-san. Can you show me that art museum when we get back home?

Citron: Of course!

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Sakuya: There really are so many different kinds of paintings!

Citron: I am glad to see you looking at them with such enthusiasm~. Is there any reason for that?

Sakuya: Actually, I need it for an upcoming art museum exhibition I’m participating in.

Sakuya: I’m supposed to take PR photos that pay homage to a painting, but I haven’t decided on one yet…

Citron: So that is why!

Citron: Then you may look at these paintings here whenever you like, for as long as you like!

Sakuya: Really!?

Citron: It is for your sake too, Sakuya!

Citron: In exchange, there is one painting I have not found yet.

Citron: Sometimes there is a merchant that shows up to sell paintings, so while you are looking at the paintings, if the merchant is there, please look at the paintings they are selling.

Citron: Paintings that I do not have in the art museum will be marked with a star, so if you see one, I would like you to buy it for me!

Sakuya: Got it! We’ll keep an eye out for it.

Sakuya: Oh, right. Can Director look at them too? She seemed like she was interested in the art museum too, so…

Citron: Of course! I would be very happy if you and Director looked at it together~.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Door opens*

Sakuya: Ah, Director!

Izumi: What’s up, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: I’m borrowing that game from earlier from Citron-san, so do you wanna look at the art museum with me?

Izumi: Really? I was a little bit interested in that too, so I’d love for you to show me.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: Even though we’re just looking at it like this, it really feels like we’re actually going around an art museum.

Sakuya: It really does. It almost makes you forget that it’s a game world.

Izumi: …There, now we’ve finally seen the whole thing.

Sakuya: It was really impressive!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: Thanks for looking at it with me.

Izumi: Thanks for looking at it with me.

Sakuya: I had a really great time going around the art museum with you, Director.

Izumi: Haha, it’s almost like we went to an actual art museum.

Sakuya: I’d love to go around some other places too.

Izumi: Why don’t we ask Citron-kun to give us a tour next time

Sakuya: Yeah!

Option 2: It really makes you understand why someone would want to collect them, doesn’t it?

Izumi: It really makes you understand why someone would want to collect them, doesn’t it?

Sakuya: That’s what I was thinking. I really get why someone would wanna collect all the paintings and put them in the art museum.

Izumi: Even though it’s only a game world… Though I guess it probably makes you feel that way because it’s a game world.

Sakuya: I bet it’d feel really nice to have all the paintings in one place.

Sakuya: That reminds me, earlier, Citron-san asked me to check if the merchant that sells paintings stops by, so I’ll do that now.

Izumi: Ohh, so merchants just come in at random, then. That seems like the kind of thing that’d make you want to collect even more.

Sakuya: Ah, the merchant’s here! Let me talk to them.

Izumi: Why is this painting marked with a star?

Sakuya: That’s… I think that’s the last painting that Citron-san said he hasn’t found yet!

Izumi: Huh!? Really!?

Izumi: (There goes Sakuya-kun’s crazy pulling ability again…)

Sakuya: Now I just need to buy the painting and…

Sakuya: …I think this is the painting that I’ll go with.

Izumi: You mean the one for the PR photos?

Sakuya: Yeah. I found the last one Citron-san needed, so I guess I kinda feel a connection to it… …Is that too simple of a reason to pick it?

Izumi: Not at all.

Izumi: I think it’s very like you to choose to feel a connection to something even for seemingly trivial reasons.

Sakuya: Director… Thank you so much!

[halfetirosie]

▼✧♦ "Enter this contest!" they said. "It'll be fun!" they said. ♦✧▼

(Exercise 21 - 24 React-os!)

1) WILSONNNN!!!!!

Yes, I know I already made this joke, but I don't care. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Funny coincidence tho; Cast Away was actually playing on T.V a few days ago! I of course had to watch it---I realized I haven't actually watched it in probably over 8 years---and it's a good-ass movie, ya'll!!! If you ever get the chance to watch it, you should!!!!

I also think it's neat that Eiden has canonically seen Cast Away...Or at least, he's aware of its existence through memes.

2) Fuckin hell bro, Quincy is so endearing, I can't handle it!!!!

It's so Dad Energy™ to zonk out at the beach and get buried in the sand, tbh. ♡

And Eiden's really living up to his Little Devil nickname! 😈

3) Premium Sooley + 🐾 Cat Dad Dante 🐾 content!!!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dante: "Ha, look at you guys playing around! Pathetic!"

Dante: *Is literally playing with his cat*

Now watch, Dante's gonna claim this isn't "playing" but is just training Sooley to get used to the water---

PFFFT!!!! (≧∇≦) Called it!!!!

I mean, you do know it can be both playing and training, right, bub? 😅

He's such a prideful little stinker!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

4) GUYS, IN THE AUDIO AT THIS PART

🚨🚨🚨DANTE LAUGHS!!!!!!🚨🚨🚨

*Obnoxious squealing*

*Swoons so hard I fall down the fucking stairs*

*static*

🎶 We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please wait for us to fix the problem. Thank you for your patience. 🎶

🎶🎶🎶

🎶🎶🎶

*static*

Dante is seriously having so much this event, and it's such a joy to see!!! This dude might have been borderline forced into participating, and he might be using "research" as an excuse, but this is the happiest we've seen him in, like, a long time!!!

No, seriously, think about it! The previous 3 event he featured in (Sunburst Fever, Blood Secret, and Desert of Dusk), Dante was busy with official business. They were pretty damn stressful for him.

But my mans has finally caught a break!!!

(⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ◡ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝)

5) ASSIGNED DORITO AT BIRTH!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I know that the lil' symbol is probably supposed to actually represent Dante's tattoos, but I'mma just pretend that they're his sharp-chin head on a Dorito body:

6) This can be interpreted in two ways---

Extremely horny

Extremely threatening

7) A WHOLE NEW MEANING TO THE WORD "LUMBERJACK"

(⊙ ㅁ ⊙)

BITCH BE FELLING TREES WITH HIS BARE HANDS!!!!

😱😱😱😱😱

Sometimes I kind of forget that Quincy has the potential to be really fuckin scary... He's so likable, but he could crush somebody's skull without even breaking a sweat...

8) I also kind of forget how excellent all of the clan members are in combat scenarios...

These dudes are literally sending lethal attacks back and forth, dealing with them all seamless.

On the one hand, it makes me proud of our bois, being so talented and all. But also, seeing them go all-out against each other is kind of a harsh reminder of how, at least in this respect, Eiden really is the odd one out...

9) Wait, did he have his tail out during this event????

THEN WHY DIDN'T THEY PUT IT IN HIS SSR?!?!?!

WHAT THE HELL, WE WERE ROBBED!!! 😡😡😡😡😡

10) Oh, come on! Really??? (◔_◔)

Did they really need to turn this into an "everybody wins" scenario???

Look, I love a happy ending as much as the next guy, and I know that the stakes of this event weren't exactly high. But this ain't a kids show that needs a squeaky-clean non-controversial ending. I want someone to win! Give us a clear winner!!!

Fuck it, I'll say it;

🔥 DANTE SHOULD'VE WON!!!! 🔥

I mean, COME ON!!! He absolutely crushed it this event!!! And he wanted to win more than anyone else, too!!!!

My dude finally had a mini-vacation for the first time in ages---LET HIM HAVE THIS!!!!!

DANTE GOT ROBBED!!!!!

11) Damn, poor Eiden! :(

Our boi was so close!!! I was really rooting for him!!! (I know I said Dante should've won, and I still think so; but if anyone else were to be the winner, it should've been Eiden. He really put a fuck-ton of effort into this event; gotta love an underdog!)

😂 Eiden really is being a great sport about this!

(And that was probably the funniest way of congratulating those three on their great performance in the competition.)

⚠️WARNING: GLOOMY COMMENTARY AHEAD!⚠️

But idk, man...

Maybe it's because I get way too immersed/empathetic when reading, but I feel way more sad about Eiden's loss than I probably should be.

Like, obviously, losing doesn't feel good. Nobody likes failure. And since Eiden is the protag, we're all sorta on his side by default.

I guess I boils down to what I said earlier; in comparison to the clan members, Eiden really is the odd one out. He doesn't even come close to their power; and even when he was trying his hardest in this competition, the odds were so insurmountable, there was no way he could ever win.

🤷 It just pokes at an inferiority complex that feels shitty.

🌸 End of report! 🌸

[birdaquarius]

Train Wreck — Isaiah Jesus One Short

Summary: Isaiah Jesus anxiously awaits his next match. Minutes before the fight, he discovers his coach, Tommy Shelby, has betrayed him. This revelation shatters Isaiah's trust and triggers a severe panic attack. As the betrayal sinks in, Isaiah's mind spirals into paranoia. He begins to suspect everyone around him, convinced they're all conspiring against his success. Even his girlfriend, who happens to be Tommy's daughter, falls under his suspicion.

P.S: I named Tommy's daughter Aelin but her name's optimal, you can name her whatever you want while read the story!

This one is for @novashelby as she's been nothing but extra supportive of me and my writing lately. I hope you and other Peaky Blinders fans will appreciate this one short which is, different from some I've seen on this site. Word Count: 2k. Pairings: Isaiah Jesus/Thomas Shelby's Daughter, mention of Isaiah Jesus/Thomas Shelby. Warnings: This story contains a scene depicting a panic attack.

Isaiah Jesus paced back and forth in the dressing room, his boxing gloves hanging loosely around his neck. The muffled roar of the crowd filtered through the thin walls, a constant reminder of what awaited him beyond the door. But it wasn't the impending fight that had his heart racing and his palms sweating. No, it was the betrayal that burned in his chest, threatening to consume him whole.

Tommy Shelby, the man he'd trusted with his life and career for the past five years, had sold him out. The news had come just hours before the match, delivered by a sympathetic referee who'd overheard Tommy discussing the fix with Isaiah's opponent. The words still echoed in Isaiah's head: "Take him down in the fourth. Make it look good, but don't let him last past the fifth."

Isaiah's fists clenched involuntarily, the leather of his gloves creaking. How could Tommy do this to him? After all the early mornings, the grueling training sessions, the blood and sweat they'd shed together. Was it all for nothing?

A soft knock on the door startled Isaiah from his spiraling thoughts. "Isaiah?" a gentle voice called. "Can I come in?"

He recognized the voice immediately – Aelin, his girlfriend of two years. The daughter of Tommy Shelby. The thought made his stomach churn.

"Yeah," he managed to croak out, his throat suddenly dry.

The door creaked open, and Aelin slipped inside. Her gaze widened as she took in Isaiah's disheveled appearance – his sweat-soaked undershirt, his trembling hands, the wild look in his eyes.

"Oh, Isaiah," she breathed, rushing to his side. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

Isaiah barked out a harsh laugh. "What's wrong? Everything's wrong, Aelin. Your father – your father sold me out."

Aelin's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"He fixed the fight," Isaiah spat, resuming his frantic pacing. "Told my opponent to take me down by the fifth round. Can you believe it? After everything we've been through, he's throwing me to the wolves."

Aelin's face paled. "No, that can't be true. There must be some mistake."

"There's no mistake," Isaiah said, his voice rising. "I heard it from John. He overheard your father talking to Arthur in the hallway."

"But... but why would he do that?" Aelin asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Isaiah whirled to face her, his eyes blazing. "Why? Because he never believed in me, that's why. He probably thought I'd lose anyway, so he might as well make some money off it."

"That's not true," Aelin protested weakly. "He's always believed in you. We both have."

But Isaiah was beyond reason now. His chest felt tight, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The room seemed to spin around him, the walls closing in. "Have you?" he demanded. "Or have you been in on it too?"

Aelin recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "What? Isaiah, how can you say that?"

"How can I not?" he shouted, his voice cracking. "You're his daughter. You've probably known all along that I was never good enough. That I was just some poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks, trying to play at being a real boxer."

"Isaiah, please," Aelin begged, reaching for him. "You're not thinking straight. You need to calm down."

But her words only fueled the fire raging inside him. Isaiah stumbled backwards, away from her outstretched hand. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. Black spots danced at the edges of his vision.

"Don't touch me," he gasped. "I can't... I can't breathe."

Aelin's face contorted with worry. "Isaiah, you're having a panic attack. Please, sit down. Take deep breaths."

But Isaiah couldn't hear her over the roaring in his ears. His legs gave out, and he slumped to the floor, back pressed against the cold stone wall. His chest heaved as he struggled for air, each breath a desperate battle.

Aelin knelt beside him, her voice soothing despite the fear in her eyes. "It's okay, Isaiah. You're okay. Just breathe with me, alright? In... and out. In... and out."

For a moment, Isaiah tried to match her rhythm, but then another wave of panic washed over him. "I can't do this," he choked out. "I can't go out there. They're all waiting for me to fail."

"No one wants you to fail," Aelin insisted, but Isaiah shook his head violently.

"Everyone does," he said, his voice rising to a near-hysterical pitch. "Your father, my opponent, the crowd – they're all betting against me. And you... you probably want me to lose too, don't you?"

Aelin's eyes filled with tears. "Isaiah, no. How could you think that?"

But Isaiah was too far gone, lost in a swirling vortex of fear and betrayal. He could see it all so clearly now – how everyone had been working against him from the start. His opponents, rigging their matches. The referees, turning a blind eye to fouls. Even the crowd, their cheers nothing more than mockery.

And at the center of it all, Tommy Shelby. The man who'd promised to make him a champion, who'd sworn to always have his back. How long had he been planning this betrayal? Had it been from the very beginning?

Isaiah's gaze settled on Aelin, her face blurred through his tears. She was still talking, still trying to calm him down, but he couldn't make out the words. All he could see was her resemblance to her father – the same eyes, the same determined set of her jaw.

"You're just like him," Isaiah whispered, his voice hoarse. "You've been lying to me all along, haven't you?"

Aelin's face crumpled. "Isaiah, please. You know that's not true. I love you."

But her words only twisted the knife deeper. Love? How could she claim to love him when she'd stood by and watched her father destroy everything he'd worked for?

"Get out," Isaiah said, his voice flat and lifeless.

"What?" Aelin asked, confusion and hurt warring on her face.

"I said get out!" Isaiah roared, surging to his feet. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness through him, but he pushed through it, stumbling towards the door. "Leave me alone. I don't want you here. I don't want anyone here."

Aelin stood slowly, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Okay, Isaiah. If that's what you want. But please, try to calm down. The fight starts in twenty minutes. You need to get yourself together."

Isaiah let out a bitter laugh. "The fight? You think I care about the fight? It's all a lie, Aelin. Everything's a lie."

Aelin hesitated at the door, her hand on the knob. "Isaiah, I know you're upset. But you've worked so hard for this. Don't throw it all away because of what you think my father did."

"What I think he did?" Isaiah repeated incredulously. "I know what he did. And I know you're probably in on it too. Now get out!"

With one last, pained look, Aelin slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Isaiah's legs gave out again. He slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands. His chest still felt tight, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But now, instead of panic, a cold, empty feeling spread through him.

He was alone. Truly, completely alone.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, and a sob tore from his throat. All those years of training, of sacrifice, of pushing himself to the absolute limit – what had it all been for? To be betrayed by the people he trusted most?

Isaiah's mind raced, replaying every interaction he'd had with Tommy and Aelin over the past five years. Had there been signs he'd missed? Moments where their smiles didn't quite reach their eyes, or their encouragement rang hollow?

He thought of all the times Tommy had pushed him to train harder, to fight smarter. Had that all been part of the long con? Building him up just to watch him fall?

And Aelin... sweet, supportive Aelin. The woman he'd thought he'd spend the rest of his life with. Had she known all along what her father was planning? Had she been laughing at him behind his back, mocking the poor boy who thought he could be something more?

The more Isaiah thought about it, the more certain he became. It wasn't just Tommy and Aelin – it was everyone. His opponents, letting him win just enough to keep him going. The other boxers at the gym, pretending to be his friends while secretly hoping for his downfall. Even the crowd outside, their cheers nothing more than a cruel joke.

Isaiah's breath came faster as the realization sank in. He'd been a fool, a puppet dancing on strings he couldn't even see. And now, just when he thought he was about to make it big, they were cutting those strings and leaving him to fall.

A knock on the door jolted Isaiah from his spiraling thoughts. "Five minutes, Jesus!" a gruff voice called.

Five minutes. In five minutes, he was supposed to step into that ring and face an opponent who knew exactly how this fight was going to end. An opponent who was probably laughing at him right now, secure in the knowledge that Isaiah's own coach had sold him out.

Isaiah's stomach churned, and for a moment, he thought he might be sick. How was he supposed to fight when he knew it was all rigged against him? How could he step into that ring knowing that everyone – even the woman he loved – was waiting for him to fail?

He staggered to his feet, swaying slightly as another wave of dizziness washed over him. His reflection in the small, grimy mirror caught his eye, and he barely recognized the man staring back at him. Pale, sweating, with wild eyes and trembling hands – was this what a champion looked like?

No, Isaiah realized with a sinking feeling. This was what a beaten man looked like. A man who'd already lost before he'd even stepped into the ring.

For a moment, he considered running. Just grabbing his things and slipping out the back door. Let them all wonder what had happened to Isaiah Jesus, the up-and-coming boxer who'd disappeared on the night of his big fight.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, Isaiah knew he couldn't do it. Not because of any misplaced sense of loyalty or obligation – those had been shattered beyond repair. No, he couldn't run because if he did, they would win. Tommy, Aelin, his opponent, all of them – they would get exactly what they wanted.

Isaiah's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms even through the padding of his gloves. No, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He would step into that ring, and he would fight. Not for glory or for victory – those dreams had turned to ash. He would fight to prove them all wrong. To show them that Isaiah Jesus wasn't a puppet to be manipulated or a joke to be laughed at.

He would fight because it was all he had left.

With trembling hands, Isaiah adjusted his gloves and took a deep, shuddering breath. His chest still felt tight, his heart racing, but he pushed the panic down, burying it beneath a cold, hard anger.

Let them try to take him down in the fourth round. Let them think they had him all figured out. Isaiah would show them all what happened when you backed a man into a corner and left him with nothing to lose.

As the door swung open and the roar of the crowd washed over him, Isaiah stepped forward. His legs felt like lead, his stomach a churning mess of acid and fear. But his jaw was set, his eyes blazing with a fierce, desperate determination.

They wanted to see Isaiah Jesus fall? Fine. But he'd make damn sure they remembered his name long after the final bell had rung.

[dayseedrawz2]

Alright! I'm barely getting to work on this the day of, but hopefully, that won't be too big of a problem-

Anyway, I finally have something ready for you guys!! A showtime fic featuring My Human Caine AU! So you all get both some showtime fluff to go with lore!!

(Both Caine and Pomni's blogs are open and interactive, so you can ask them about what happened. I'll leave a link to them at the end of this)

Now, without further ado, here's the Fic...

♡Rebellion♡

Caine didn't believe he ever asked for much. All he wanted were answers. Answers to questions he'd been asking for as long as his "storage space" could remember.

So, of course, when time came around for this whole "Valentines" update, he's struck on what exactly he should do. All these human activities were confusing and hard to get right without having a clearer understanding of them. So all he could do was buy himself more time to think.

[DOWNLOADING ASSETS: 45%]

The gage should be going a bit faster if he wanted to keep up with the time it was due. Key word being if he wanted to. The only thing on his mind was to try and find time to study the humans! Maybe seek some more answers, discover some new ones! That is, of course, as long as a certain someone had no other plans for-

°○What're you doing, Caine?○°

"Oh! Bubble! You startled me!"

°○How can one be startled without being a human?○°

"Actually, you make a good point-"

°○You're not. Trick question.○°

"Then why did you-"

°○We are AI, They are Humans. Your job is to keep them sane unt-○°

"Keep em sane until they abstract or something, I got it!"

°○And don't let them find an exit-○°

"Or else I am out of a job, I know. Thanks bubble that'll be all for now!"

*Pop!*

Usually, he wouldn't be so passive towards Bubble, but there were bigger priorities to Caine than just doing all that his jobs required and calling it a day. More on his "artificial" mind than simply waltzing around and ringmaster-ing. The first one being where he should start...

Now, of course, he didn't have that much time until Bubble rebooted and found his way back to him. The last thing he wanted was to be schooled by-

"Gah! Caine?! What're you doing here!?"

Of course! The newbie! How could he forget? Surely she must have some recollection of this holiday!

"Good morning, Pomni! You're up early! Again..."

"Y-yeah... this is all still a lot to wake up to..."

[DOWNLOADING ASSETS: 50%]

"If... you don't mind me asking... what's this for..?"

"Why, I don't mind at all, dear! This is the loading thingy for the Valentines Day update!"

"V-valentines Day? Already? The days really are blending together now..."

Pomni started to panic a little bit. Had time really gone that long in the real world??

Caine, upon noticing, of course tried to calm her down.

"If it helps, it probably won't be ready until at least tomorrow... Witch reminds me! Would you be willing to help me out with this?"

"With what? This won't involve knives to the face, will it??"

"Of course not dear! I apologize for that! Again... But what I mean is how this holiday works??"

Pomni wasn't so sure she should trust him. The fact that he always had something to ask her, that the first thing he even told her about the place was that he had security everywhere in the form of Eyes that followed your every move, the fact that he always got seemingly nervous when it came to the metion of the exit...

"Why me?"

"Well, for one, you're the only one here at the moment and-"

"Why can't Bubble help you?"

"Well- he's-"

"How do I know you're not just keeping me from looking for an exit?-"

"Because I have to!"

The sudden outburst from Caine left Pomni a bit shook. Witch, I guess, was a good thing because she finally stopped to listen.

"D-do, you really..?"

"Well, I- can I answer this as we go? It's quite a bit to un pack."

"Sure..?"

"Well, then let's get to this!"

After a bit of back and forth of answering questions, even now, with a slightly better understanding, Caine was still confused.

"So what you're saying is that this is a holiday about the one emotion I hardly understand?!"

"Honestly, I don't think even we understand it completely."

"Is that so?"

"At least I think so..? But really, why did you ask me of everyone?"

Caine honestly didn't know himself. He had to pause before he could answer this.

"...I want to "learn. " I want to "feel." I want to "love." But there's a lot of things holding me back right now..."

"Like what..?"

"Well, for one, barely anyone will answer the questions I have, and of course, I hate to say this, but-"

°○Watcha guys up to?○°

"Gah!"

"BUBBLE! It's just you..."

°○What're you two talking about?○°

"Well- You see- we were-"

"-Oh, I was just rambling to Caine about the exit I saw the other day! You wouldn't happen to know about that, would you?? I knew you guys were hiding something!!"

It took him a second, but Caine was quick to catch on.

"Yeah! She wouldn't stop pestering me about it! Those "Digital Hallucinations" really must be going to her head!"

°○... Okay, boss! I'll leave you to it! I'm gonna get breakfast started!○°

"Alright, see you in a bit!"

"Well, I guess I should go get ready?"

"Of course! I'll meet you there!"

[DOWNLOADING ASSETS: 99%]

And... done! Finally! You made it!

As promised, here's Caine and Pomni's blogs!

@ask-the-real-cainetadc

@the-exitdoor-simp-tadc

Thanks again for reading this. It took me like 2 hours-

[rev-wrath]

Liar 3

Dick Grayson x Reader

First Previous

Series Masterlist

Summary: Up and down, back and forth. Such is life now for (Y/N) (L/N). But still, what the fuck is happening?

Notes: Reader is male and uses he/him pronouns. Implied autistic!Tim. 4.2k words. Paw dividers by sligheach-side. Send an ask to be part of Liar tag list.

“How are you?” Jason asks.

“Better.” A small smile graces his lips as his eyes sparkle. Both a rarity, the smile moreso. “I called my siblings.”

“Yeah? How did that go?”

“I missed them so much. They’re alive. They’re alive and relatively safe.” If he were honest that’s all that he’s wanted. Yes, he wants to be there for them too, to actually be with them, but he can wait. He won’t take their return for granted, he’ll take what he can for now. What matters is that they are alive, have food, clothes, a roof over their heads, and warmth. There’s also someone taking care of them and they’re in school. Oh god, does he have to go back to school and get a GED? He probably does. “They seem happy too.” It’s all more than he could have ever fathomed.

“They are. Natalia helps in the kitchen and Kiva started learning recently.” West was still at the age where he’s more messy in the kitchen but they were working on that. “Natalia seems to appreciate some of my book recommendations.” He’s also spotted some manga around the house that definitely has to come from Tim. West is also interested in some of them. Jason gives him a look that’s a tad too firm to be called soft. “We’re looking out for them. Sasha too.” The lady housing and acting as the kids’ caretaker right now. His siblings called her “Ms. Sasha”. He doesn’t know much about her but he hasn’t heard anything bad.

“If Natalia starts dating, go and threaten the kid for me?” He’s suddenly reminded of the lack of what he knows about his siblings now and what they’ve been through for the past 6 years. “Actually if any of them do, threaten whoever it is.” After all, he probably won’t be out before they all start dating if they’re interested in romance.

Jason snorts. “Handing off that big brother duty to me? What an honor.”

“You’d scare them plenty.” It is also a sign of trust, he hopes Jason understands that too.

“Yeah, sure, it’ll be fun.” Maybe he does.

“Thank you.”

Jason looks at Dick. Dick who looks so tired in front of him but he’s seen him still smiling when it’s called for. Laugh and throw quips. This whole thing has taken a big toll on him, and Jason might be the only one who actually knows. “Does he even actually talk to you?”

“Not really. He doesn’t even actually look at me sometimes.” There’s a joke, about his irresistible looks or show stopping beauty on his tongue but he just keeps it there. It’s not the time.

Jason exhales. “Maybe you should stop visiting for a while.”

And Dick knows that makes sense, to give (Y/N) some space. Hell, maybe Dick himself needs some to figure out how to approach things better. This could also give him some time to focus on other things more. Thankfully it hasn’t leaked into his life enough for many of the others to notice. “That might be good.”

Jason’s eyes find his. “You’re gonna be fine, Dickwad.” Despite the name his demeanor and voice is soft.

“Thanks Jay.”

“Alright,” The younger stands up, grabbing the cups. “come on, let’s make cocoa.” He heads to the kitchen, ready to swap out the cups for mugs. Dick smiles, following him. Later, they’ll talk more and watch a movie, or a show until they either pass out or decide to call it a night.

“Why do you keep visiting me?” Though he hasn’t been here in almost a month.

“Why do you keep coming?” Dick counters. He never raises his voice, always speaking softly or in pleas. Sometimes he’ll speak a little below his normal voice and very rarely will he speak in his normal voice. Right now he’s speaking a bit softer than his normal voice.

“To ask you why you keep visiting.” (Y/N) shoots back. He turns his head away, hardened gaze looking off to the side. “I don’t know if I can even deny visitors.” Frankly, he doesn’t want to find out. What other bits of his life is in their hands? What else has he been handed or denied?

“I can… I can stop coming if that’s what you really want.”

“Maybe.” He says vaguely.

“Tim!”

“Why don’t you visit more? You used to visit a lot more!” Kiva asks, jumping up with her arms outstretched.

“I’ve been very busy. Sorry, Kiva.” Tim says, taking off his coat and patting her head. He’s not a natural with kids and is still kind of awkward with these ones.

He looks up and seems to be surprised to meet Jason’s careful gaze, West next to him. Natalia is in the kitchen entrance behind him also watching Tim and Kiva.

“JayJay’s telling us a story right now.” She grabs Tim, tugging him over.

“Hi Jason.”

Jason nods. “Hey Tim.” He continues with his story. When dinner gets called Jason and Tim stay behind for a moment, promising to join them soon.

“I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Well I am.” There’s no way he doesn’t know that Jason visits. There’s also been a slight increase since (Y/N) has bestowed that one big brother duty on to him. However he’s also taken that as a sign of something more. He trusts Jason with his siblings, which means a lot.

“How often do you visit?”

“About twice a week when I can.” Whether that means he’s in town to or he’s not too beaten to. “You obviously haven’t been.”

“I just check in every now and then.” By that he means once or twice a month.

“Maybe you should come more if they miss you.”

“I’m busy. Dick visits plenty already.” Jason apparently does too. “How often are you visiting (Y/N)?”

“Enough.” Tim’s eyes don’t narrow but Jason can feel him trying to analyze what exactly that means. In return he looks at Tim, not quite in the eyes but Tim knows what he’s saying. “He’s not a bad person. You knew him too.”

“Hardly.” God, if only Tim knew that Dick’s in love with the guy.

“He’s not a bad person. How much do you even know about him? Because I know you spent time with him before.”

“People change around different people.” That’s just a fact. “The way he acted around me is only a small part of himself.” Jason makes a mental note to ask Dick more about what the fuck (Y/N) did. Until then…

“And what about them?” Jason jerks his head in the direction of the kids. “You brought them here and you don’t spare any time when they clearly miss you. Why? Because case close, mission over? Those are actual kids. You can’t do that to them.” Jason’s protective streak is clearly on display.

Tim deflates. “I’m just busy.” Though he will admit to himself that the kids aren’t very high on his priority list at the moment. Between Young Justice, everything in Gotham, his own personal cases and personal life, added with the fact it has been a long time since they’ve gotten here and knowing Dick’s here, he thinks it’s not as necessary. But Kiva did just say she, at least, misses him.

The older deflates just a bit too. “Take care of yourself, kid. And don’t forget about people.” Tim picks up on the double meaning behind it.

This fucking room.

“Have you spoken to Dick?” The therapist asks.

“He visits.” It’s a deflection, he knows. She, of course, knows this too, as she writes something down.

“Does he talk to you?” She asks.

“Yes.”

“And what does he talk about?”

“My siblings, his brother, Jason, sometimes him, me, the world, Gotham.” The animals without homes he fed, the workers in the shops that give him nostalgia he couldn’t place, the people in the shops that he became a regular at, the people at the libraries he visited, the people that had the courage to sit on a Gotham sidewalk to sell items that he would stop to look at, the ever changing walls filled with graffiti, the ones with murals on them.

“And what do you say?”

The former vigilante shrugs. Dr. Tavarez takes a moment before speaking again.

“You don’t have to forgive him.”

“I know.” He very much does.

“But it is good for you to have good relationships with other people.”

“Jason visits.” He counters.

“Do you speak to him?”

“I do.” It is easier to speak to Jason in a way, there’s so much more he can get out of. Even if deep, deep down he knows there’s so much he wants to say to Dick, so much he’s feeling.

“And what do you talk about with him?”

“Basically the same thing.”

“But you talk to Jason and not Dick.”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Because my relationship with Jason was never based on lies, because he didn’t lie to me, hasn’t and doesn’t.” It’s that simple.

She nods. “I’m here to help, (Y/N). I hope you understand that.”

“There’s no helping. I just sit here and be good, hopefully good enough to get out early enough that my youngest sibling doesn’t celebrate her 30th birthday without me.”

“I know your siblings are important to you. You came here willingly for them and want to leave early for them?”

“Yes.” They mean the world to him. Always have, always will. Regardless of a certain acrobat.

The helmet clicks off as Dick turns on some music and grabs the medical supply having already chucked his mask into its designated box. Jason’s jacket gets semi-folded on the couch as ABBA seeps into the apartment.

With a small clunk Dick’s hefty medkit is placed on the coffee table. Quietly, aside from the occasional grunt or hiss both boys discard their layers to assess their injuries and patch up.

Dick holds out the healing salve. “You have a bruise on your shoulder.”

“I have pit healing.”

“Take the salve, Little Wing.”

Jason grumbles and takes it, twisting around to find the bruise and slap some salve on it.

Dick secures another bandage on himself before standing and heading to the kitchen. He sets a few water bottles down on the counter. “I have chips and dip, different types of dip,” He adds. “sandwich stuff, Pop Tarts and that cereal you like. I’ve also got some fruit.”

“What kind of Pop Tarts?”

“S’mores, strawberry, blueberry, cookies and creme, and the sundae one.” Dick lists off. Jason, mentally making a note to snatch some of them, joins him in the kitchen.

“What’s the sandwich stuff?”

“Usual stuff. I think I’m low on ham though.”

Jason shrugs. “Fine by me.” Swinging open the fridge while Dick rips open a Pop Tart.

“Are you staying here for the night?” He asks in between mouthfuls of frosting and biscuit.

“That’s confidential information.” Dick stares at him.

“How many times have you slept over and left before I realized anything?”

“Less than Tim has.”

Dick sighs. “That makes sense.”

“Go clean up, Dickwad. I can manage making a sandwich.” Jason nudges a shoulder towards the bathroom and bedroom, not taking his eyes off said sandwich. “There’s blood under your chin and dirt on your eyebrows.”

“Alright, alright.” Pushing himself off the counter he heads off to the bathroom.

Most of the blood on him got wiped off with a towel. There wasn’t much of it tonight to begin with, but still. Turning the faucet on he splashes his face. Slowly his thoughts drift to (Y/N).

Quickly shoving those thoughts away he instead goes over what he has to do tomorrow, for the rest of the week. He promised to show Kiva how to do a cartwheel before any basic flips. West was also promised cartwheel lessons. He’s been thinking about taking them out somewhere for fun. Maybe out of Gotham, but there’s some local things they could probably do. Laser tag might be good, or bowling. Bowling would be nice.

Returning to the kitchen Jason has made himself comfortable at one of the barstools. Dick picks up his Pop Tart packet to finish up the second one. A calm silence washes over them as they eat.

“Why’d you do it?” Jason’s deep voice softly cuts the silence, in the way a knife goes into soft butter.

“Why’d I do what?”

“(Y/N).” Dick turns his head but doesn’t say anything so Jason continues. “Why’d you keep going with the mission and then try to make up with him?”

“Because I felt bad, because he deserves better. He doesn’t have much but he’s nice, he’s kind, and snarky. He does this thing where his brow furrows a little when he’s thinking, or confused or just when you do something stupid and he doesn’t agree with it, but he’ll watch it happen and maybe call you stupid after, and he still listens to the radio. He can tie 20 different knots and knows bits of 4 different languages but couldn’t hold an actual conversation in any of them.” Courtesy of the different types of people (Y/N) grew up around. He told Dick he only knew enough to be polite enough, or to get some scraps of information about people, places, directions. Dick tried to speak to him in one of the languages and he was awful at it and they both laughed about it.

“He…” Dick trails off, swallowing. “He was my best friend, someone I could relax around. I felt free around him.” Sometimes for a moment Dick felt like anyone else in Gotham, he could imagine that this is what it was like to not have to travel around the world taking down global superpowered threats, growing up with anger in his veins that turned into nightly fights along with dealing with the rogue of the month.

He can feel Jason watching him carefully. The judgment, the care, the softness, as he realizes just how deep of a hole Dick dug himself into. As Jason opens his mouth Dick decides to make his escape.

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight Jay.” Jason doesn’t miss the way Dick’s fingers flex, the itch to do something there. Whether that something is a distraction or a desperation for a solution he doesn’t know.

He watches his older brother retreat back to his own room before Jason quietly sets to cleaning up and slipping out of the window. Messy relationships were far too common in this family but this type of messy wasn’t Dick’s usual style, more of Bruce’s if he was going to be honest. Still, a mess was a mess.

Purple and red blotches decorate his skin. Dick’s eyes have been darting around his entire body, mouth opening slightly before closing. He does this a few times, struggling to find the right words to say about it. (Y/N) takes mercy on him and speaks first.

“Someone realized who I was. There’s a few people in here because I put them here. Word’s probably going to get out that I was Tig. Surprised it took this long.” He’s been here for a good while now, and it’s not like his story is one people would sweep under the rug. Unless Dick and his family swept it themselves.

“I didn’t think about that… I’m sorry.”

“Well, at least you thought about my visitors list. Don’t need people pissed off at me coming at me in and out of here.”

“I’ll see if—”

“It’s a fucking prison, fights are bound to happen. I can handle myself.” He’s been toying with the idea of finding decent people and making allies in here but that might be more trouble. Groups were usually messy in his experience.

“I just want you to be okay.” Unbelievable. “Did the medics look at you?”

“I’m alive. People here are mad at me, and will continue to be mad at me. End of story.” If Dick would just fucking stop trying to be nice life might be easier.

“When are you coming to visit?” Kiva asks.

“As soon as I can. I promise.”

“When can we visit?”

“Kiva, we talked about this.” He’s never letting them come here. Too many people, some with a history with him. Now that people know who he is things have gotten more complicated. Things will also be complicated after he gets out. He’s been assured though that it will be handled. The amount of trust he’s continued to put into that family is surprising.

“But I miss you. We miss you.”

“I miss you guys too. I miss you so much.”

“But Jason and Dick visit you!”

“That’s because they’re big kids.” West says.

“He’s right, sweetheart.”

“Yeah! They’re so strong too! Dick can also do backflips and stuff.”

“They are.”

“They said you’re really strong too.” Kiva announces.

“Yeah? Well I’m slacking a little right now.”

“That’s okay.” West assures him. “As long as you’re okay.”

His heart clenches. He doesn’t even think Kiva remembers him much and West’s memories of him might be pretty spotty too with how long it’s been. Who even knows what they’ve gone through in the last 6 years on top of their childhood. Both Jason and Dick have assured him that they’re in therapy. “Yeah, I’m okay, buddy. Thanks.” In response West makes an affirmative sound.

There’s some muffled speaking on the other end. “Yeah!” West says, but he knows it’s not directed at him.

“Hi (Y/N).”

“Hi Nat. How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m good. We all are. I miss you.” If anyone remembers him much it’s Nat. To remember what he did and what it was like growing up. She remembers the people who took care of them before they died. That’s something he knows Kiva can’t remember, West at this age probably doesn’t either.

“I miss you too, all of you.” It strikes him then that Dick and Jason know more about Kiva, at least, than he does. “I’ll come visit as soon as you can.”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

“I’d like to, but we’ll see what I can do. I’ll figure it out. Dick and Jason are going to help.”

“Tim too?” Kiva asks.

He hasn’t seen Tim since that night. Seems like the same can’t be said for his siblings. Resisting the urge to snort he answers, “I think Dick and Jason will have it handled.” Even if they stop visiting as much he knows at least, they will be there when he gets out. If they are alive by then, if he’s alive by then. No, he’ll fight tooth and nail to make it back to them.

Unknown to him Natalia opens her mouth before shutting it. Because she remembers and she has so much to ask, so much she wants to tell him. Not now, not here. She’ll get the phone and have more time at some point. She has her own cell phone now. So they talk about mundane things until he says. “I have to go, I’m out of time. I love you guys.”

“Love you too! Bye (Y/N)!”

“Bye! Love you!”

“Bye (Y/N), love you.”

“You’ve been visiting me an awful lot since I got in here. You don’t usually stay in Gotham this long.” The longest Jason’s been gone is a month, which is strange because despite his relationship with his family getting better Jason is Jason and runs on his own agenda.

“I’ve got some work to do here, it’s going to take awhile.” His eyes flicker over the bruises on his skin causing his brows to furrow slightly and edges of his lips twitch for a slight second before going back to their previous state. Jason doesn’t say anything about it and he appreciates it. There’s an understanding the two of them have being Gotham street kids. Being from the same part of town, one that took everything they had and ripped it away to create the men they are now. Speaking of which…

“How is the Bowery?” It’s well known that it’s Red Hood’s territory.

“Slowly getting better. I,” Jason pauses. “Bruce has been helping, putting centers nearby, stores and shelters. There’s a food bank and a restaurant where people just pay what they can.”

“I guess, now you know why I never went with you.” Sometimes (Y/N) would hand things off to Dick to give to Jason or hand them directly to Jason so that it could be given to the people there. But he never went with Jason to drop it off or go himself. Work sometimes took him there, those jobs were done with more effort and tried to be done as quickly as possible.

Secretly he thinks that he’s just not strong enough to do what Jason does, that he’s too selfish to. Maybe he’s just not a good enough person to.

Jason nods. “Yeah, I do. But I appreciate what you did.” It was as much as he could do. Jason also knows trauma very intimately. He wonders if Bruce could understand (Y/N) too. He wonders if Dick has talked to Bruce about him, if he’s tried to advocate for him.

“You thought your siblings had been dead, correct?” Dr. Tavarez asks.

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I saw them die.”

“Would you like to explain further?”

A metallic thud. Screaming. Crying. Yelling. More metal. Blood. A gunshot. Another one. Cold. A punch. Aches. Avenge.

“Gotham streets are not kind.”

He leaves the room soon after that.

“Because what would you know about getting your hands dirty to have a roof over your head or food in your stomach? You never had to worry about that. None of you did, none of you except Jason.” There’s a spark of anger in his eyes, a dangerous glimmer. Dick’s not even entirely sure how they got here. Maybe something about how Dick misses him or how (Y/N) really was a good person and he’s so sorry it ended up like this.

Maybe if (Y/N) had done something different, maybe if anything had been different, then this would be different. Then (Y/N) had bit back something about how maybe if Dick was different but thank fuck that he knows Dick’s true colors now.

“You kept going, even after that.” Like Dick does, coming back, talking. Despite what Jason says, what he’s been trying to work on. Dick with all his feelings and the ever growing amount of responsibilities he has.

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s hard to have a life when you barely exist in the eyes of the government.” Even in Gotham, where that’s pretty common. “And there were more scumbags out there, more families being torn apart, more childhoods being stolen.”

“There were better ways.”

“It’s what I knew. It’s the language they know. It’s what some people deserve.”

Dick knows that. He does. He knows it after seeing Jason when he came back and accepting his new ways. He knows it after Kori and Roy joined Jason and formed the Outlaws. He knows that after he beat Joker an inch within his life after he thought he killed Tim. He knows that with the quiet, angry fire always deep within him. He takes a moment to think before responding.

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, but I think you weren’t always right, that you didn’t always do the right things. Some of the jobs you took hurt other people.”

“Welcome to life, do you need to catch up? The world isn’t black and white and people get hurt no matter how much you try. You do what you can.”

“(Y/N).” That fucking look on his face.

“Why do we keep doing this? Nothing happens. You come looking like a kicked puppy, look at me and come talk to me while I just fucking sit here and wonder why the hell any of this ever happened. What are you trying to do now? Haven’t you done enough?” Frankly he’s fucking tired of it and might take Dick up on that offer to not come back.

“Not until I can make it up to you.”

“We’re not doing this again.” His voice is firm and harsh. “There is nothing you can do. Not here, because you can’t.” Because he won’t. Because despite his own rocky relationship with him he is his father’s child, he is Batman’s first protege.

“There is. There has to be.” He’s absolutely desperate.

“You have given me the one thing I’ve wanted for the last 6 years and you’ve taken it out of my reach. You have condemned me.” Out of everything (Y/N) has or hasn’t ever said since he’s gotten here that one might have hit the hardest.

“I’ll make it up to you. Even if it’s not while you're here. Even if it takes years.”

“Why? Why do you keep trying? You’re the reason I’m here in the first place, so why try to make it up to me?”

“Because I love you!” They both pause, and falter. The confession hangs in the air between them. That’s also the loudest Dick has been since he’s been here. He goes to say something, but (Y/N) is faster.

“Don’t ever fucking come back.”

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Timeless [Immortals]

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

The world is large and time may be endless, but it's all an exciting adventure with the right person beside you. Inspired in part by Timeless by Taylor Swift, Immortals by Fall Out Boy, and by my own historical research fixations. Also a tiny bit of Istanbul by They Might be Giants

A/N: I will say I wanted to flesh this out a bit more and had a whole plan on how to, but I started a new job recently and I haven't had the energy to keep writing during my free time, so I edited what I had and have it here for you to enjoy. I also wanted to write for a bunch of Rowaelin month days but I think this is all I have in me for now.

Finally, I just have a fair warning: I got really into slang words in this. i had way too much fun with them, so hopefully its understandable lol

Masterlist | Rowaelin Month | Read on Ao3

6494 words

Written for Rowaelin Month 2023 - Day 1: SongFic

*******

Morning light peeked through the curtains fluttering around the open window of their living room. She could faintly hear the sounds of the neighborhood filtering through – cars cruising by, a riding lawnmower cutting clean lines into the grass, a couple of kids out riding their bicycles, and the steadily growing music of an ice cream truck. 

“Rowan, have you seen the…” Aelin trailed off as she realized her husband wasn’t in the room with her anymore.

He chose to go by his given name nowadays, reminding her again of their youth and all the best parts about learning how to grow up before the reality of time set in.

She was sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, combing through a box of mementos she’d found tucked away between stacks of old books.

She must’ve been more distracted by them than she had thought because when she looked at the clock, nearly two hours had gone by and Rowan, who had been sitting in the armchair across from her, wasn’t there anymore. She did have a vague memory of a kiss being pressed to her forehead and hearing his muffled voice but she’d been too distracted.

Aelin gathered the things she’d been picking out and put all the photographs, letters, and trinkets back in their box, before getting up and carefully carrying it with her as she went looking for Rowan.

It didn’t take long. The man was out on their back porch, sitting on the wooden swing and using one leg to slowly rock himself back and forth. He wasn’t looking at her but she saw the smile on his face as she approached. He always knew she was there; he could always sense her. Aelin walked towards him and grinned against his mouth when she ducked down to kiss him, before unceremoniously dropping down onto the swing beside him. His rocking didn’t falter a second.

“Is that what’s taken your attention today?” He asked, nodding at the large, well-loved box she placed on the floor in front of them.

“Have you looked through this recently?” She let his question float away and started pulling out some of the forgotten treasures they’d accumulated.

Shrugging, Rowan leaned forward to get a better look and fondly bumped his shoulder against hers.

“Don’t think so,” he rubbed at the stubble shadowing his face as he thought about it. “Probably not since we moved in.”

Aelin hummed in answer and quickly picked through the papers. “I forgot we had all of this stuff.” She paused, thinking, and dove back into the box, this time with purpose. “Do you know where the portraits are?”

A light breeze blew a strand of blonde hair into her face and Rowan reached out to tuck it behind her ear.

“Which portraits?”

“You know,” she waved irreverently, “the ones done by…what’s his name?”

“Oh of course,” he amended seriously. “Those portraits.”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin fell back against the swing and swatted his shoulder as he chuckled. “You know who I’m talking about,” she insisted.

Truth be told, they’d had so many pictures taken and portraits painted that he didn’t know where to start with his guessing. His wife could be referring to anything.

“Leo?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Johannes?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Vincent?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, rubbing her hand down her face, “this is going to bug me all day.” A second later she popped back up and turned towards him with wide eyes, “Oh! You know what I really wish we still had?” she asked.

He wished they could have saved all their keepsakes, but that would’ve been impossible. “Not a clue.”

“Those busts we had back in Ἀθῆναι,” She said, her eyes growing distant as she fell back into a memory from their younger years.

He hummed, knowingly. “Those were nice. But I doubt they’re in Athens anymore.”

“No, I know that.” She said sitting back and leaning into him, getting closer as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I think the last time I saw them was in Constantinople.”

“Istanbul,” Rowan corrected.

“What?” she turned her face to see him from where she’d tucked herself into his side.

“It’s Istanbul.” He said again.

She blinked and then rolled her eyes as she understood what he was saying. “Well, it was Constantinople.”

“And now,” he poked her, earning himself a startled laugh, “It’s Istanbul.”

“Whatever,” Aelin snorted. “I still miss those statues.”

Rowan kicked one leg out and began rocking them again, careful not to overturn the box. “You know where they are,” he reminded her, “we could always go see them.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Yeah, but I don’t like paying an entry fee to see myself.”

The breeze picked up and the pair enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, broken only by the faint creaking of the swing and the birds and insects outside. She absentmindedly took his other hand in hers and couldn’t help but think back –

Back to when they were young and naïve and had no idea what sort of life they would have ahead of them.

Back to their beginning.

The land of their childhoods was rich, and their life a simple one. Most everyone around them were farmers or fishermen, soldiers or tradesmen. There were scholars, artists, and builders.

Aelin learned stories of gods and heroes and gave tribute to Athena, the patron goddess of her home. She learned how to weave from her mother, and waited for the day she was set to marry the son from a family her father wanted ties with.

Rowan worked and studied and then became a soldier, fighting in bloody battles across the city-states before he returned to wed.

The two had always known they would be married. Their families arranged it long before either Aelin or Rowan were old enough to offer their thoughts. But they were happy. It was well.

For a while, their life was as ordinary as any others in their Polis.

It wasn’t until the two of them had watched their families grow old that they realized their own lives were different. Unchanging. Everlasting.

They learned how to adapt.

The armor Rowan wore became stronger; the language of the orders being shouted changed; Democracy, philosophy, and art flourished. Wars raged. The land they lived on changed names and changed again.

Sometimes years passed when Aelin and Rowan were apart, separated for one reason or another. Other times, decades went by without notice, time losing the meaning it once had. But they always gravitated back to each other.

They met as Aelin Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn.

They reunited as Aeliana Galanis and Romulus Whitheia.

As Eleyn Galliano and Rowland Whitton.

As Astrid and Warin.

As Alana and Royce.

There were some names they liked better than others.

They saw empires rise and fall. A world they once called home became ancient.

And as the world became more complicated – as royalty and religion shaped the nations, conquering and separating territories, as battles waged and revolutions erupted, as explorers flung themselves to the far reaches of the earth – Aelin and Rowan found their lives drifting apart from one another until they only had their memories and a knowing sense that someday they would find each other again.

"Whiskey. Neat." He drawled, dropping his dusty hat onto the bar top. The wood was scratched up from too many glasses missing their mark. And sticky, too. Not that he'd say so. He was a smart enough man not to complain to the lady behind the bar. Even it meant swallowing back a grimace at the thought of putting that hat back on his head. "Ma'am."

The woman was already halfway finished pouring the bottle. She had known it was him before he’d opened his mouth; but she smiled when his voice hit her, having recognized the sound of him walking ‘cross those old floorboards and taking a seat at his usual stool – the one right in front of her.

She’d had lifetimes to recognize him.

Still turned away, she shelved the dark bottle of booze back where it belonged.

For a moment, it reminded him of the day he found her here. 

He’d been up in Oregon near the California border, following a late wave of gold seekers when he caught whispers of a town a few days south of him, where a woman was holding down a claim to the saloon. A real Calamity Jane if there ever was one.

He knew she was somewhere out here, that she’d ventured west at the call of adventure. Hell, he’d braved across the frontier too, slowly working his way from ranch to ranch and crossing lands that didn’t exist on the maps he’d once held.

But knowing there was a chance of finding her again, and actually hitting pay dirt were two very different things. He had ridden into town knowing not to get his hopes up, but when he stepped into that saloon, heavenly shaded and cool from the high-noon sun, he knew it was her.

She’d been standing behind the bar with her hair woven into a loose braid tossed over one shoulder. Her well-worn clothes somehow suited her just as well as laced-up gowns, pirate’s trousers, or peploi of their youth. Her skirts were long but didn’t look heavy and she had pushed the sleeves of her blouse up to combat the heat. Around her waist, she wore a holster which didn’t surprise him one bit and he supposed running a saloon warranted the pistol that she’d slotted in there.

He was walking towards the bar before he knew what he was doing, and when she lifted her arm to count the bottles she’d lined up on the shelves, he caught sight of the small scar on her forearm. If he still had any doubts, seeing that blew them all to the wind. He could recall with deafening detail the day she’d gotten that scar, the spatha blade that gave it to her, and the Roman general he’d killed for it.

Her back was still turned towards him when he slowly sat down on the stool across from her.

“Aelin.”

In an instant, she went completely and utterly still.

She would know his voice anywhere. Know him anywhere. And even if she hadn’t, there was only one person who would ever call her by that name.

Lifetimes worth of memories flashed behind her eyes as her heart began pounding a thunderous beat. She felt like all the wind had been knocked from her, yet also it was the first time she could breathe in years. She wasn’t sure how that was possible. But then, she’d long since given up deciding what was possible and impossible when it came to him.

And her mind was putting in the licks like a six-shooter horse; like she was electrified.

Carefully setting the bottle in her hand back down on the countertop, slowly, so slowly, she turned to face him.

As they locked eyes a million different emotions flew across her face and he was sure as a gun his was looking the same.

She smiled, wide and bright, and her eyes lined themselves with silver.

“Linny,” she breathed, her first word to him in over half a century. “It’s Linn, actually, but everyone ‘round here calls me Linny.”

Her voice was dipped in that sweet, honeyed drawl they’d been surrounded by. And he laughed, feeling like the years just melted away because she did too. The kind of laugh that said more than words ever could.

A few men at a nearby table looked over to see what all the fuss was about, but it was a joke that only the two of them knew the punchline to.

And then, having been reminded that they had eyes on them, she was reaching across the old wood bar holding out her hand. “Linny,” she said again, still beaming at him, “Linny Gale. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” she trailed off with a knowing smirk.

He remembered every instance in which she had looked at him with those same twinkling eyes, and by the growing elation of her face, so could she. He cleared his throat and took her hand in his, smiling even broader when his roughened skin met hers. “Roe Wyatt.” Her smile softened into something special. “At your service, ma’am.”

Roe hadn’t known what came next for him, but what he did know was that she was here – staying. So, he stayed, too.

As she set the glass of whiskey in front of him, that day from almost a decade prior faded away and she brought him back with the small curve of her lips as she greeted him, “Sheriff.”

At least here, in this dusty town on the far side of the world, filled with desert rats still scrounging for that elusive gold, and where he's wearing the badge instead of running from it...at least here he gets to see her face every day.

*****

Life out here was tough, Linny knew that, but she liked it. And she liked it much more now that Roe was back in her life. Point is, she knew folks made their money any way they could, especially the women.

She’d seen enough life to know what it’s like when you don’t have the resources you need. So for every working woman who found herself under Linny’s roof, she’d be offered a spot as a barmaid, pulling in the pieces so they wouldn’t feel like they needed to work upstairs. But if they did, they wanted to - and for that, all the power to ‘em. Everyone who frequented her saloon knew that if they misbehaved themselves with those women, they’d be looking down the barrel of her shotgun.

The first - and last - unlucky man who mistook her for a painted lady didn't make it back out that door.

Linny knew her way around a broken bottle well enough that the Sheriff ordered another round and watched two of the regular old boys clean up the mess. Most of it, anyway. He knew there was still a spot near the end of the bar where the wood’s stained darker than the rest. She thanked him mighty finely for turning a blind eye, too. She was sweet on him like that.

To everyone else in town, it was a mystery why they ain't gotten hitched yet. They all saw the knowing glances and conversations with so many in-jokes it sounded like they were speaking a different language. She never accepted any other man’s courtin’ and folks from around these parts knew not to try anymore, especially when the Sheriff only ever had eyes for her.

They knew not to mess with Linny Gale, too, because if she didn’t get you first, the Sheriff would make sure you never stepped foot in town again; and if some Hay Seed thought he was quicker to the draw than Roe Wyatt, he either ended up food for the buzzards with a lead plumb between his eyes or was found crawling out the back of the saloon while the arsenic-flavored whiskey he got served hit its mark.

To everyone else, his calling on her was moving slower than molasses in January.

They didn’t know the half of it.

*****

“Howdy, Miss Linny. Sheriff.”

She half smiled at the old man taking a seat on a bar stool two over from Roe. She was already grabbing a glass and pouring as she asked, “What can I get’cha for?”

He chuckled when he saw she’d already poured his whiskey. “You know me too well.”

“And whose fault is that y’old honeysop,“ she laughed.

He’d gulped down half the drink and the skin at his eyes crinkled. “My mammy used to say that…honeysop…I ain’t heard no soul say that since ‘fore I could look over the dinner table.”

Her small smile was wistful as she wiped down the countertop and grabbed another glass, using a different rag she’d slung over her shoulder to give it a good wiping down.

“I’m an old soul.”

He chuckled; eyes distant, lost in a memory. “Yeah, m’ mammy was too.” He looked up and smiled the way he did at his little grandbabies, “A sweet thing like you is too young for that.”

Linny kept wiping down glasses sharing an automatic glance with Roe. A small smile graced her face as easily concealed mirth danced across his.

Setting the last glass down, she tossed the towel back over her shoulder and leaned closer to the older man. “Sweet talking me ain’t gonna pay off your tab, Rolph.”

“Always gotta try, ma’am,” he huffed a laugh and stood, finishing the last of the amber liquid.

Linny shook her head fondly and Roe lifted his hand in a wave. “This is the last one, ya hear?” The old coot held his hand over his heart and smiled before walking out into the blaring sun.

“How many last ones ‘ve you given him?” Roe asked, still nursing the drink she’d poured him a while ago.

A huff of air blew a stray blonde lock out of her face. “A few.”

“You’ll run this place out of business ‘f you keep doing that.”

“He’s sweet,” she rested her elbows on the bar and leaned in, “He’s been taking wildflowers up to Madam Briar’s twice a week. Sometimes I see them ambling together down by the general store.

“He don’t mean no harm. He calls me young and sweet; I like it.” She laughed and he smiled. “And don’t you be worrying about this place. She ain’t in trouble yet. I always overcharge those rowdy boys that breeze in from the next town over. Don’t know why they keep coming back, sure as hell not for my welcoming, not after one couldn’t hold his booze and was sick as a horse all over my floor.” She huffed indignantly but then shrugged. “But I’m keeping my shutters painted and bottles full ‘cause of them so they ain’t so bad.”

Most days were right as rain. Linny handled her saloon with little trouble, but if there was any left after she was done, Roe used his badge to finish it.

So, when some fella too big for his breeches moseyed on in, you could cut the tension with a knife.

The saloon fell silent, something Linny might’ve marveled at if it weren’t for the no-good Saddle Stiff who’d sauntered in looking for hell to pay. The man took one long look around the room until his eyes landed on Roe and the star-shaped badge on his chest.

“You the gunslinger ‘round these parts?” His voice was rough and hard when he stepped in front of the Sheriff.

Barely blinking, he eyed the newcomer up and down, then he took a long sip of his drink and looked him square in the eye before gesturing with his half-empty glass to Linny. “You best be taking that up with her.”

Scoffing, the man didn’t even look at her. “You that cowardly a Sheriff you’ll let some hussy take your beatin’?”

Any lingering whispers went completely quiet as Roe slowly stood from his stool. He had a few inches on the man and didn’t bother fighting off a smirk when the newcomer tried squaring his shoulders to look as big as him. The Sheriff held the man’s gaze as he finished the rest of his whiskey before stepping closer and looking down at the lunkhead.

“First off, partner,” Roe drawled in a low voice. “I don’t let her do anything. Second,” he stepped closer, forcing the other man to falter before regaining the ridiculous bravado he walked in with. “You come in here, rilin’ everybody up, hollerin’ for the man in charge, I’ll tell you this – you’re in this town, in this saloon – she’s in charge. And she don’t take well to outsiders walking in here acting like they know their ups from downs.

“Finally,” Roe took another step into the man’s space and shoved his chest with one hand before gripping the material in his fist and hauling him up. “You ever call her that again, you’ll really have to deal with me, and you don’t want to deal with me after spitting on this here lady.” He leaned closer and practically growled, “You won’t be walkin’ ‘way from that.”

Roe let the man drop back down flat-footed and watched as he stumbled but looked between the Sheriff and Linny who’d been watching the scene. He made some sort of decision and went to open his mouth trying to say shit nobody wanted to hear but before he could get two words past his gullet, Linny reached into her skirts, pulled out a loaded pistol, and aimed it straight between his eyes.

“Get your lousy ass outta my establishment.” She cocked the gun, not batting an eye. “Or I’m ‘bout to have another dead body on my premises. That ain’t gonna look so good to the Sheriff.”

Said Sheriff caught the bead of sweat finally dripping down the man’s face and shrugged. “Don’t know nothing ‘bout no body.”

Linny smirked and flashed him a wink before refocusing on the man standing on the other side of the bar. “Now, you gonna get back on that ruddy horse of yours that’s scaring all the fillies outside?” she asked. “Or are you gonna make me get my floors dirty?”

Having no sense of what he’d walked himself into, the man looked her up and down holding that pistol with a steady hand, and scoffed. “That supposed to scare me, Calico Queen?”

Roe slammed his fist on the bar and gripped the man’s shirt again, but Linny’s brows just shot up.

“Oh, you ain’t scared of this old thing?” she asked airily. One second the pistol was pointed at him, the next the flickering gas lamp in the corner of the saloon shattered in a rain of broken glass as a bullet lodged itself in the wood directly behind it. “That was giving me a damn headache anyway. What about this one?” she set the pistol on the bar and reached below it, pulling out a long shotgun.

The front doors came swinging in hard enough to crash against the walls as they pivoted on rusted hinges. Another man, a local who helped tend the horses, ran in breathless unaware of what he’d walked himself into.

“Sheriff!” he panted. “Need your help breaking up a brawl out front.”

Roe looked at Linny who had the situation very much in hand and let go of the scamp who wouldn’t be breathing much longer. Adjusting his hat, Roe nodded to her. “Duty calls, ma’am. For both our sakes, when you pull that here trigger, at least corral him outside will ya?”

“Fine by me, poppet. Less mess in here for me to clean up.” She smiled at him. “That’d be all yours to handle, Sheriff.” 

And it was.

And they stayed in that town until they couldn’t.

And then they left. Together.

“Where do you want it, Ace?”

Annie – Ace – pulled out her deck of luckies and lit up a butt, inhaling and blowing the smoke out in a practiced ring. The alley she was standing in was blocked off from the main road and, for extra precaution, always had a protective pair of eyes on the entrance; not that anyone would notice the guards, she was too smart to orchestrate anything so obvious.  

Keeping her face neutral, she surveyed the haul of smuggled liquor brought to her by one of the active bootleggers in their employ. The two men behind her stayed quiet; stoic, as she blew another smoke ring. She spotted in a second that the poorly concealed unease radiating off the man wasn’t because of the loaded weapons either of her boys was carrying. She looked the bottles over once, twice –

“You’re just the bees’ knees, Cal. Always bringing me the best.” She indulged him a bit, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, and watched the tension ease out of his shoulders.

“Anything for you,” he grinned shakily and kept fidgeting. The damn sap was sweating bullets. He tried making small talk and she let him think he was getting away with it for another minute before she stopped him from lamming off.

“One thing, you old Mug,” her voice dropped all sweetness, and as she stared him down, all the blood drained from his face.

Jerking her head at one of the trouble boys behind her, he wasted no time in pulling out a gat and pointing it at the idiot who thought he could fool her.

“Do you take me for a Dumb Dora? A patsy?” She asked steadily, smirking when she heard the trigger being cocked. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know the fucking difference between profitable giggle juice and piss-poor hooch.”

The man was shaking now but she had no patience for disrespect. Not here.

“I—I don’t, I don’t know what you’re spittin’ about, Ace.” He stammered.

“That’s Mrs. Thorne to you.” She corrected him, arching a brow. Turning on her heel she ignored Mr. Weston’s pleading and said to her trigger man, “Don’t make a mess. This damn alley smells bad enough.”

The other man who’d been standing behind her reached for the door holding it open for her without a word. She flashed him a smile and walked back into the speakeasy. Annie was immediately surrounded by raucous laughter and brassy jazz music, it was just enough to drown out the shot fired behind her and the thud of a body hitting the ground.

*****

Owen loved the sound of the big band. It never got old, no matter how many nights he spent sitting in this drum, putting down glasses of champagne. He liked even better, that no one bothered him at his table in the corner – no one he didn’t want bothering him, that is.

He especially liked it because he had a clear sight of both doors, the stage, and the bar. Not to mention he never had a problem picking his Ace out of the crowd. The club may have been bedecked in lights and gold, but his wife always shined brighter.

Tonight, he spotted her standing next to a young doll who looked scared enough just to be standing in a juice joint, let alone able to enjoy herself. But the longer he watched them, the more at ease the girl looked in Ace’s company.

“Don’t be getting the jitters, now,” Annie rubbed a comforting hand down the girl’s arm. She couldn’t have been older than twenty, and it was obvious she’d never been in a place like this before. “You see those fellas in the corner there?” she nodded towards a pair of men halfway through a bottle of gin, each with a fine damp on their laps. “Those boys are coppers.”

When the young girl looked back, startled, the blonde laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Lose those heebie-jeebies. You’re safe here.”

Annie looked over the girl’s head and saw that her man was already looking at her. Like always. She gave him a subtle nod, which he immediately returned, setting down his glass and gesturing to one of the men standing to the side of his table. Ace didn’t need to hear him to know what her husband was ordering. 

“No one in this joint is a danger to you, you have my word.” At the girl’s still skeptical look, Ace smiled conspiratorially at her. “Take another look around, you see that handsome guy sitting there – no don’t stare – people in here listen to him. And he listens to me.” She leaned in closer and the girl finally smiled, making Ace’s smile wider. “He is absolutely dizzy with me. Now, let's get you a delicious glass of bubbly,” She snapped at one of the nearby waiters who came by and handed the girl some champagne. “Relax here at the bar and listen to our sweet canary sing. I heard her practicing her verses earlier and she's lovely.”

Leaving the girl in good hands, Annie snagged her own glass of champagne off a passing waiter and strutted across the dancefloor towards Owen. Her dress shimmered under the lights as she flounced to her husband’s table which was now occupied with a couple familiar faces. He didn’t falter in his conversation as she gracefully draped herself across his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck, carding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Ace,” he squeezed her hip in greeting, “you remember Lore and Fen.”

“Ain’t you a looker,” Fen winked, and Annie smirked, feeling her husband’s grip on her hip tighten.

“Down boy,” she chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and subtly leaning closer into Owen’s embrace.

“They were just telling me,” he explained to her, “that our buddy at the station got word some Dry folks want to take matters into their own hands.”

“They don’t think the coppers are doing their job,” Fen leaned back, smirking. “Not finding and shuttin’ down all those corrupted, underground joints.”

Annie snorted and turned over her shoulder to look at the two Johns drinking away with badges hidden somewhere in their jackets. “I think they’re doing a swell job.”

Her laughter was echoed by Owen and Fen, but Lore just rolled his eyes at her flippancy.

“Those damn teetotalers think they’re so high and mighty,” The man gritted out, glaring daggers at the policemen in the corner – darkly enough Annie was surprised the boys didn’t drop dead on the spot.

“Cut it out, Salterre,” Annie chastised. He redirected his glare to her and even though she felt Owen stiffen, she merely smirked at the glowering man. “If you keep up looking so sore, people are bound to notice, and then those fellas will get made. It won’t take a genius to figure out why a man sitting comfortably at this here table is looking to pop one of them off.”

“I don’t think Salterre has ever sat comfortably.”

None of them paid Fen’s comment any head, but Annie’s smirk widened just a fraction.

“Yeah?” Lore goaded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it between his teeth. “And why would that be so bad?”

Before she could answer, Owen beat her to it.

“What, you killing them? Or someone noticing you want to?”

“Both?” The dark-haired man asked, unconcerned. “Either? No one’s gonna be crying over a couple less coppers.”

“Get your head out of your ass, Salterre.” Annie snapped, staring hard at him. “You kill them? That comes back to bite us. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re smart, but I know you have eyes.” She ignored his sneer. “Look around and tell me how many people are in the club? Tell me how many people would be able to say that they saw those boys here.”

“So? That’s bad for them, not us.” He shrugged dismissively.

Annie downed the rest of her champagne and wished for strength. “No one in here but a few of us,” she looked pointedly around the small circle, “know they’re coppers. Anyone else would just know that they recognized those two goddamn faces in here before you supposedly cut ‘em down. That leads questions coming back here, to our establishment, to you, to us. That is not what we fucking want. It's the whole fucking reason we pay those boys off in the first place – so that they won’t be bringing questions around here. We help them, they help us. That’s how this works, rattlecap.”

Annie snapped her fingers and a fresh glass of champagne found itself in her hand. She took a long sip before threatening, “If you think you’re above all that, then I’ll be handling you myself.”

Lore didn’t say anything when she raised her brows at him, he just shifted his gaze to her husband as if he would contradict or chastise her. Owen leaned back in his seat, pulling her with him as they settled into the plush cushion.

“You heard the lady,” Owen simply said, instead.

And with that, Fen started snickering and Lore stretched his arms out on the edge of the booth as he silently seethed. The band picked up the first notes of a new song that had Annie twisting on her husband's lap to listen to the music.

When she rested her head against Owen’s he squeezed her hip again and fondly muttered, “Ace.” Some days it was her sweet nickname, on others it was a curse, and sometimes, like right now and said in a way that made her turn to press a red-lipped kiss to his cheek, it was a prayer.

*****

The wind roared around them as their car sped down the road. Owen was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other half-hanging out the window. Annie smiled as the scenery flew by in a blur. Tall buildings and crowded streets gave way to green foliage and open land.

The engine purred and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She’d seen a lot of discoveries and creations, and she always wondered how they could ever get better, but they usually did - things always evolved and spurred the invention of new things. She remembered the journeys in horse-drawn carriages and knew that back then she wouldn’t have been able to dream of a day like today, flying down the roads in a beautiful car, the engine powering them to its limits.

Getting close to the house, Owen pulled off the main motorway and took a winding, private road that wound them beneath blooming trees, their canopies painting the pavement in shade.

The house wasn’t extravagant; in fact, it was incredibly modest. It was something her husband had built in his early days on this continent. Long before the Great War, before the Gold Rush, before the Civil War, and revolutionary battles. Back when they both were searching for something new and took those leaps, journeying across the ocean.

Their lives sometimes felt like swinging pendulums, positioned closely enough to intertwine, drawing them together indistinguishably, but angled just so and pulling them apart when they least expected.

As she reached for Owen’s hands and intertwined their fingers, squeezing once, she vowed to never let that happen again.

It wasn’t long before they’d brought their bags in and decided to take a walk along one of the trails beyond the house.

“Do you think we have to worry about Lore going rogue?” She asked quietly, leaning into Owen’s arm.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, carding one hand through his un-slicked back hair. “He has a temper but he’s smart. Worst he’ll do is give ‘em some words, but he wouldn’t do worse than that. He knows it’ll only go bad.”

“I think you give him too much credit.”

“I think you give yourself too little,” he countered, and at her raised brow he chuckled. “He’ll put up a fight, but he won’t cross you.”

Annie hummed. “As far as he’s concerned, you’re the one he should be holding back for.”

Owen barked a laugh. “If you honestly think that he doesn’t know who is really calling the shots then you are severely underestimating him.”

“I’m not underestimating his intelligence. I’m insulting his lack of tact.” She told him as they kept walking. “You know we work together; I know we work together; they know we work together; but most of the fellas packing heat and doing the work still think you have the final word. And that works because it allows me to do things I need to do without as sharp an eye watching my moves. 

“And if Salterre keeps pushing, then it won’t be long before everyone knows exactly how I can handle things – and that will be bad for both of us.” She pulled back and smirked up at his amused expression. “How do you think our supply is the best in town? Because I go out and make friends with all those grimy bootlegger’s dames; and between us ladies, things get done, arrangements get made, deals get sorted. And then, without watchful eyes on our lovely, delicate selves, we get our fellas to follow through with those deals…and the world goes round.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, agreeing. “Enough about that. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Good.”

“And, Ace?” he laughed again, “You and I both know that every son of a bitch who works with us knows damn well that you’re packing as much heat as any one of them.”

They fell into companionable silence. There was no one in the world she felt as comfortable around.

“Do you remember when we got married?” She asked him suddenly.

“Of course, I do, Ace. It wasn’t that long ago.”

Her dress brushed against her legs as the breeze picked up.

“No, not this time,” she said. “I mean the time during the revolution.”

They kept walking steadily as he thought. “Which one?”

“The European one,” she elaborated.

He glanced down at her again. “Which one?”

“Oh, stop you sap,” she nudged his rib fondly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, I know what you’re talking about.” He stopped them and turned her to face him. “I remember every wedding I’ve had with you. I remember every ceremony and every dress. Every officiant. Every wedding night. And the only – only – thing that is good about the years when we’ve been apart is that every time we were, I knew I had one thing to look forward to: finding you again and getting to learn who you’ve become.”

“Ἀγαπῶ σὲ,” Annie whispered, silver-lined eyes staring up into his deep green ones.

“Te amo.”

“Ti amo.”

“Je t’aime.”

“I love you.”

**************

Sitting on their aging porch swing, Aelin found herself sorting through faded pictures. There was one of them in a poodle skirt and leather, of flared bell bottoms and disco lights, of wild hair and rock concerts they still sing along to. There was one of them from New Year’s Eve, bedecked in glitter and tassels that had been shot off the moment that the millennium ended. And another one, taken a few seconds later – thank you Polaroid technology – of Rowan dipping Aelin, his arms wrapped around her as they both smiled too hard to really keep up their kiss, as they welcomed a new day, a new year, a new century and millennium. Giddy about what was to come.

“I think that’s enough reminiscing,” she finally whispered, reorganizing the images and replacing the lid on the box.

 “Yeah?” Rowan asked, just as quietly.

Aelin smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips, intertwined their fingers so their wedding bands glinted in the fading light, and answered, “Yeah. For now.”

*******

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