#i guess i like to frame it more as 'getting here was a journey that god watched and occasionally interjected on'

[gromlyn]

currently sitting in the living room during the early days of winter break surrounded by my cats drawing for hours while my beloved partner sleeps peacefully in our room. sure im extremely depressed right now but I used to dream about days like this when I was younger. a reminder to myself that things do get better

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[eclectickss]

Taste the Tango

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SoftTop(switch if you squint)!Reader, age gap (reader is of age), reader's best friend is Wanda's son, Tommy is graduating high school? (a choice that I don't think I've seen before, so let me know if you like?), Wanda is reader's former teacher, slight alcohol use, smut (fingering, oral)... I think that's everything?

Summary: You are in your hometown the summer before your senior year of college hanging out with your best friend. Unexpectedly, you also get some quality with his mom (and your former teacher).

WC: 10,350 words?!?! (a record for me)

╔══《✧》══╗

"Hey Y/N!" Your gaze shot up from the pavement to the open door ahead, smiling as you saw your best friend standing in the frame.

"Hey Tommy!" You jogged up to hug him, seeing as he and his twin brother just returned from a week long beach trip. You normally wouldn't be this excited to see him, but with complicated summer schedules and school across the country, it had been almost 6 months since the two of you had spent time together.

"This is crazy, I missed you so much!" He backs up and you immediately spot the sparkle in his eye that is easily recognized in the rest of his family.

"I know, me too!" You shook his shoulders and hugged him one more time. "So, you said you had something planned for today?" The two of you walked into the house and towards the kitchen. Your eyes secretly darted around the space for a certain someone, but you are slightly disappointed when you don't see the person you're looking for.

You feel guilty for hoping she would be there, since you were there to spend time with her son, but you couldn't silence your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried.

"Well I know it's kind of silly, but I picked up some rocks we could paint?" He scrunched up his face. "I don't know, I just wanted something mindless we could do while we caught up."

"Are you kidding, that sounds great!" You smiled.

"Alright, awesome! I've gotta head out by six so I can meet Ruby for dinner, but we have plenty of time," he said as you followed him back to his room. Ruby was his girlfriend of six months, so it prided you to know that hanging out with you was his priority.

The two of you made it to his room and he encouraged you to sit down as he left to get art supplies. Just before you were able to sit though, a voice reached into the depths of your mind.

"I knew I heard a familiar voice!" You turned around and there she was, as breathtaking as ever. Wanda Maximoff. The way her soft eyes met yours and her red wavy hair sat just above her shoulders made you melt. You prayed the moment would last forever, but the passing seconds were inevitable.

"Hi!" You excitedly walked over to your former teacher to give her a hug, painfully ignoring all other emotions you were feeling.

"How are you, Y/N?" She moved out of the hug, cheeks grazing, making you briefly look away.

"I'm absolutely wonderful, how about you?"

"I'm alright," she spoke as she softly smiled. "Are you excited for your last year of college?" She leaned up against the doorframe.

"I guess so? I love California, but I can hardly wait until I'm done with school already so that I can come home. Are you ready to become an empty nester?"

Billy and Tommy were three years younger than you, so they were just about to begin their college journey as you were ready to bring yours to a close. Tommy was only going to university an hour away and Billy five hours, but you imagined it would still be a lot for both boys to be leaving the house at once.

"Oh hush, dear." Ms. Maximoff playfully shoved your shoulder, a gesture you struggled to not linger on. "I don't wanna hear that talk. Let me soak in my boys being home while I can. And you being here while I can." She smiled with a small glint in her eye, but you knew she was dreading the boys' absence.

"Oh well, two more semesters and you won't be able to get rid of me."

"Perhaps it's selfish to say that we can't wait to have you back either, but I know you'll accomplish wonderful things in your last year there." She placed a hand on your shoulder and instinctively you placed your own on top of hers.

You internally panicked, worried that you were being too affectionate for a teacher/student/best friend's mother relationship, but she just moved to gently caress your cheek and proceeded to walk away.

You could hardly process your thoughts as your brain replayed the previous moment over and over, but this torturous habit is nothing you weren't unfamiliar with.

Every day that went by with Ms. Maximoff in your presence was a day to strenuously remember. You mentally recorded her words, her movements and her reactions. Time slowed with her around as you soaked in every detail about her possible.

Every day that went by without her was filled with daydreaming and guilt. You always wondered how she would react to something, or how she would respond in a private conversation. You tried to picture her thoughts and envision her smile before you. You hated how much you thought about her, yet craved to dream of her.

She was your high school english teacher, your best friend's mother, and your go-to mentor in any sticky situation.

She has already given you so much, and you despised the fact that you wanted more. You knew it was wrong, but she was your addiction.

"Earth to Y/N," A hand waved in front of your face and you quickly realized that Tommy had returned with the rocks and art supplies.

"Oh, hey Tommy!" You rubbed your eyes in shock.

"Where'd you go there?" He laughed and sat down on the floor.

"I uhh... can't remember." You lied, joining him on the floor, not letting him see the guilty emotions written across your face.

---

Hours pass as the two of you work on your rocks and talk.

You tell him all about your travels while he fills you in on everything that happened at the beach and on his trips prior.

You love listening to all his little stories, especially those where his mom is involved. One of your favorite stories was when he talked about her affliction with the terrible kitchen at the beach house. She wouldn't stop complaining about the quality of the stove, which you ended up finding rather funny.

You asked him if she even actually used the stove, and he said no, which made you laugh out loud. Supposedly she apologized at the end of the trip for making such a big deal out of it.

He thought it was stupid, but you found it cute.

Of course that was something that she would do.

"What else crazy did she do on the trip?" You couldn't stop yourself from inquiring about her. Tommy never caught onto your special interest as he laughed it off and launched into the next story.

"So it was movie time, right?" He starts and you nod. "Well mom and I were advocating for She's Funny That Way since we're both madly in love with Kathryn Hahn."

You cackle and quickly agree with their side. "Of course."

"But Billy and Auntie Nat wanted to watch Knives Out!"

"I thought you liked that movie..."

"Ok yes, but Kathryn Hahn or Chris Evans?"

You thought about it for a moment. "Fair Enough." This made you wonder though about Ms. Maximoff's interest in Kathryn Hahn. There's no way she's.... attracted to her, right?

If Ms. Maximoff actually liked women, the hole you've dug for yourself would become infinitely deeper.

"Anyways, so mom, out of nowhere, says, 'You wanna watch Knives Out? Well guess what, Chris Evans is the villain and Ana de Armas gets the estate and money,' and Nat and Billy were furious."

"Oh my gosh!" You laughed with your hand over your mouth in disbelief. "So did you guys end up watching She's Funny That Way?"

"Well mom and I did. Billy and Nat went off to watch something else."

"Wow! That was vile!"

"It really was intense." He laughed and the conversation paused as both of you returned your attention to your rocks. Right before your paintbrush hit the surface though, his phone alarm went off.

"Aw, shoot. That's my timer for Ruby. We gotta clean up."

"That's alright." You gave him a soft smile. "We do have the last two weeks to hang out before I go, and I understand I'm not the only important person in your life."

He looked at you and smiled. "I love you, you know?"

"I love you too, you dork. Now let's clean these brushes and get these rocks outside to dry."

The two of you were cutting it real close to six once everything was cleaned, but before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to Tommy in the driveway just as Ruby had pulled in to pick him up.

"Alright, Y/N, we'll hang out soon!" He hugged you and stepped back.

"Oh you know it."

He followed you to your car, but you quickly realized you had left your keys inside.

"You know, I think I left my keys on your floor, but don't bother waiting for me to drive away. Go have fun with Ruby."

"Alright. My mom will let you in if it's locked." He hugged you one more time and joined his girlfriend in her car. You released a breath of air and headed back to the house, happy to see that the kitchen door was still unlocked.

Ms. Maximoff was standing in the room though when you walked in.

"Oh, hey Y/N/N! Did you forget something?" She looked up from the cutting board and veggies on the counter.

"Yeah. My keys are somewhere in Tommy's room," you said as you headed in that direction.

"Oh, so you're not back because you forgot to say 'goodbye' to me?" She teased.

"You read my mind!" You yelled from down the hall, embarrassed by how quickly you turned red.

Your keys were rather easy to find, but you took a bit longer to collect yourself before exiting Tommy's room.

"So," she said as you re-entered the kitchen. "What are you doing with your last two weeks before heading back to California?"

You were caught off guard with her conversation starter, but you were overjoyed that she wanted to talk. You leaned back onto the counter to face her.

"Well, it's all just trying to hang out with friends, even though most of them are off doing internships or traveling. I'm honestly just hanging around home a bunch," you shrugged.

"What, you didn't want to travel or anything?" She said as she continued to work on the cutting board at her fingertips.

"You know me, Ms. Maximoff, I love home just a little too much." You smiled and looked at your feet.

"Wanda, dear." She stopped her chopping and looked directly at you. "I was Ms. Maximoff to you because I was your teacher, but we've been over this, darling. Wanda, please."

You sighed. "It just... feels weird!"

"Ok, well you know what we do when things feel weird, Y/N?"

You looked at her questioningly.

"We practice, dear." She stepped around the kitchen island to lean on the counter across from you, and your thoughts started to get louder. "Say it. Say my name." She openly challenged you, so you had to accept.

"W- Wanda?" Your insides were burning.

"With confidence, dear."

You took a breath. "Wanda." You exclaimed, meeting her gaze from a few feet away.

"Good girl. Now use it in a sentence."

You blushed, knowing she saw it, but hoping she assumed it was from your discomfort. "Like... what?"

"Well, I don't know! A compliment, a question, a simple statement? I don't care, just say something. Anything." She commanded as your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I think your eyes are gorgeous, Wanda." Fuck. That wasn't supposed to come out. The woman across from you seemed to freeze briefly. "I mean- your eyes, Tommy and Billy's eyes... you all have the same eyes. I think... I think they're pretty. Wanda." FUCK.

Wanda still hadn't moved, her gaze digging into your soul. She finally took a breath, leaving a long pause in the conversation.

"What do you think of me, Y/N?"

"What?" Disbelief dripping from your reply as the intonation behind her question became lost on you.

"How do you process my image? My persona?" Wanda playfully smirked. "It must at least be slightly askew since I was your teacher, but what role do I play in your life?" She moved some cooking items away from the edge of the counter, proving to you that you had her full attention.

"Do you want me to be honest or uncomfortably honest?"

"I want to know why you chose me. Why you always turned in my homework but nobody else's. Why you wrote me thank you notes and asked me to write your college recommendation letters... why you confide in me and why you respect me so much..."

You stood in shock, feeling your body start to shake from the nerves. Your shoes all of a sudden became really interesting.

"Uncomfortably honest it is, then." You gave a long sigh and glanced back up to see her eyebrows raise in anticipation.

"It was one of the first lectures you gave me in 11th grade. I had started to realize that I was more introverted than I wanted to be, so I challenged myself to break out of that shell. I started doing that by speaking up in class. You had asked a question about our summer reading, and because I already knew you through Tommy, I felt comfortable to answer.

"To my surprise, you started a debate with me... and I didn't back down... and then you applauded me for standing up for something I believed in. That made me want to pay a lot more attention to you." You paused to take a breath, making sure the other woman was still paying attention. Wanda nodded in acknowledgement, but stayed silent to let you continue. "I started to listen to every word that came out of your mouth. I memorized every piece of information you shared, I watched what candy you picked out of the bag first, I payed attention to what music you were listening to, what books you were reading." You paused. "And so I started to notice things.

"You work to understand every single story in the room. You want to help as many people as possible, and you don't let their faults get in your way. You have a passion for what you teach and you want to share it with the world. You have good and bad days just like the rest of us, and you allowed me to see that. You are kind, empathetic, beautiful, and I have a great deal of respect for the way you carry yourself, Wanda."

Your heart raced as the two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. You had just poured your heart out to the one person who was never supposed to know anything. Wanda was speechless, which made you nervous. You continued to ramble.

"And- and its tricky because Tommy is genuinely my best friend and I don't know what I'd do without him... but if you're wondering what I think of you, I don't know what I'd do without you either. This family has made me who I am today. And it's all very complicated and confusing and difficult to navigate."

Wanda's eyes still stood stagnant, but you couldn't bear the silence anymore.

"Why do you ask?" You quietly gulped, praying some sound would exit her mouth.

"Would you like to stay for dinner? Billy is with friends tonight and Tommy is with Ruby, as you know, so I fear I have nobody to eat with." Wanda returned her attention to the preparations. The change of subject caught you off guard, but the opportunity to spend time with her was never something you wanted to turn down.

"Uh... sure! Let me just tell my mom I won't be home for our frozen pizza dinner." You made a goofy face that Wanda found hilarious after you commented on your other dinner option.

"Wonderful." A beautiful smile spread across her face as she pulled another plate out of the cupboard and set it on the dining table. "Would you care for a glass of wine?" The offer felt odd coming from the older woman, but it's easy to forget that you're legally allowed to accept alcoholic beverages now.

"That would be nice." You gave her a soft smile.

"I can't believe you're old enough to drink now... better for me so I won't be drinking alone," You both laughed. "Red or white, darling?"

"Whatever you're having." Wanda practically waltzed around the kitchen. "Is there anything I can do to help you prepare?" You asked as she handed you a glass of red.

Wanda paused her movements and looked at you with a silly yet impressed smile. "Well... have you ever made paprikash darling?" She asked and you shook your head. "Would you like to learn?"

"Absolutley." You grinned and Wanda took a sip of her wine.

"Wonderful." She held out her hand for you to join her at the cutting board. "We've got to dice two onions, one tomato and one pepper, as well as mince two cloves of garlic." She placed the kitchen knife in front of you. "I like to use four cloves of garlic though," she nearly whispered in your ear.

"Do you know your way around a cutting board?"

"Uhh... not really?"

"A teaching opportunity then! You can never get away from me, can you?" Wanda's words were spinning in your head even though you knew they were not intended to be. The older woman stepped behind you, moving the knife to your left hand.

"How did you know I was left handed?"

"I pay attention, dear." She casually replied. "Now curl your fingers on your right hand like this-" She placed her palm on top of the back of your hand. "And hold the knife like..." She adjusted the positioning of your thumb and pointer finger. "Good. This is the best way to avoid chopping an extremity off." Your eyes widened, thankful Wanda couldn't see the fear written on your face.

"All that's left to do is slice." She grabbed the readied onion and placed it in the center of the board. Before you knew it, she was guiding your hand through the vegetable while pressing you into the counter from behind. "Wonderful!" She exclaimed as the slice of onion fell onto the board. "Now you keep going!" She stepped out behind you and you tried your hardest to not sulk at her absence.

You missed Wanda's warmth, but nevertheless, you continued slicing and she continued watching.

"Good girl." She spoke the words again, nearly making you loose focus with a dangerous object in your hand. "Now you cut in the opposite direction. I was never good with onions so as long as the pieces look somewhat like cubes, you will have done a wonderful job." That made you laugh and you continued working.

"So tell me more about college! I love having you here but we never get one-on-one time like this. How is your degree path, your teachers, friends? Are you seeing anyone?" The last question was delivered in a goofy, sultry manner as Wanda pulled raw chicken out of the fridge.

You giggled and rolled your eyes. "To get the most pressing question out of the way, I am not seeing anyone. I was slightly interested in a graduate student but we decided it would be better to stay friends. Plus, who gets lucky enough to date a graduate student?"

"A graduate student, eh? How did the two of y'all meet anyways?"

"Well she used to live in the rental where I am now, so I received some old mail of hers. Who woulda thought that the nearly outdated postal service of America almost brought two women together?"

Your joke made Wanda cackle as she turned on the stove to heat the pot.

"Well, at least you have the opportunity to date women on campus, dear. That would have been so much more complicated in my day." She stirred the melting butter in the pan.

"Oh Wanda, don't say 'in my day', that makes you sound like a dinosaur!" You laughed.

"Well, honey, I am a dinosaur!"

"Oh shut up, no you're not. I am shocked every day that there aren't sad little high school boys making rude comments to your face or handsome men on your tail." The room oddly fell silent and you immediately started reflecting on what you had said. You put down the knife even though you were nearly done with the tomato. "When you made the comment about back in your day... - did you... do you wish you had the opportunity to date women?"

An all-telling silence came from Wanda.

"You'd rather have beautiful women on your tail? Is that it?" You smiled at her a little bit, just to make sure she knew that you understood.

"Well... I guess so. The whole 'men' thing only did me one good and that is my boys. Their dad, Vision, was just a good friend and it took me a really long time to realize that."

"That makes perfect sense Wanda." You almost hesitate with your next question, but it feels natural to ask. "Is there any woman that you've ever been particularly curious about?"

Immediately, you could tell Wanda had an answer, but her various facial expressions made it difficult to decipher if she was going to tell you or not. Finally, a glimmer of playfulness lit in her eye.

"Yes, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Tommy."

"So we both know this person then! She must be from school!" You exclaimed, getting excited.

"SHHH!" She looked at you seriously. "I always wondered how I really felt about Carol but she got herself a partner back in May."

It took you a moment to figure out who Wanda was talking about. "Wait- Carol as in Ms. Danvers Carol Danvers?!?" Wanda sheepishly nodded and you smiled wide. "Wanda, I can't blame you at all. Carol was hot at hell." You returned to your tomato, smirking.

"Excuse me!" Wanda was shocked at your remark.

"Oh, c'mon, Wanda. You must know that students talk about a few teachers. Mostly the boys... but they still talk. Danvers was a popular topic in my graduating class! Even I added a comment occaisonally..." You mumbled as you watched Wanda return her eyes to the stove with a scoff.

"Unbelievable." Fake disgust dripped from Wanda's voice as you held back your laugh. She pulled the chicken out of the pot and grabbed the onions from your board, tossing them into the oil. "You said a few teachers..." She whipped back around. "Who else was on the hot commodity list?"

You playfully scoffed. "Well there was coach Wilson amongst the girls and also Ms. Hill with the guys."

"Interesting."

"Oh, and of course we can't forget you."

"EXCUSE ME?"

You let out an outrageous burst of laughter. "What?! All of the students fangirl over how nice you are if they aren't upset with their grades in your class! The boys love how mysterious and alluring you are and the girls think you're extremely personable, which is true."

Wanda let a brief silence fall on the conversation. "And you?"

You paused. "I already told you what I think of you Wanda." You smiled and handed her the rest of the chopped veggies. "Here you go." A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Wanda continued to work, claiming there was nothing else for you to do at the moment. Eventually, she covered the pot she had been focusing on and turned the kitchen timer on.

"We've got about thirty minutes of waiting before there will be anything else to do," she spoke as she finally poured more wine into the both of your empty glasses. "I hope you liked this red, darling. I don't know how experienced you are with alcohol yet... although i'm assuming it's more so than you should be for your age."

You giggled. "I have maybe had my fair share of underage drinking, just like any decent college kid might," you replied as you accepted the glass from Wanda and followed her to the nearby couch. You both got comfortable and you watched as the older woman pulled a blanket across her thighs. The absence of conversation began to feel a little overwhelming, but you weren't expecting Wanda to break it with the next sentence she spoke.

"You're actually the first person i've told about liking women," she began. You raised your eyebrows in shock. Not that she hasn't told anyone before, just that the first person she wants to confide in is you.

"Wow." You began. "I don't know if I'm the most appropriate person to offer this, but do you have any questions? I am comfortable answering anything as long as you are comfortable asking." You stared at Wanda as you sipped your wine, watching the gears turn in her head.

"Yes I-" Her hesitations finally diminished. "Have you ever dated a man?" You were not expecting that.

"Yes, I tried. I was in a similar situation where he was my best friend. This was in 9th grade, that is, but I still knew that I was supposed to feel more."

"How is it different?"

"Than women?" You watched as Wanda nodded. "Well there is an objective answer and a personal answer. The objective one goes to say that it comes down to the person and how you connect with them. How your life experiences tie together and whatnot. Objectively, I can't say that much because every individual is unique. Personally though, women are infinitely better."

This made Wanda laugh, which you were quickly realizing you would give anything to hear more and more of.

"They better understand your life experiences and how to navigate emotional situations, especially the mature ones. The way they display affection is usually more personable and caring, too. They also are more attentive to details, both mentally and physically."

"How so?"

You could feel the alcohol beginning to stir, making it harder for some thoughts and words to stay away from your brain. "Well mentally, women tend to catch onto social cues faster, like when their partner needs a break or needs to eat or needs cuddles or space. Physically, they pay more attention to how your lips move and how you like to be kissed, not just where." You noticed Wanda's eyes following the path of your lips and jawline, making you stammer for a moment.

"What else?"

You gulped, beginning to realize you had no idea how far this conversation would go. "Well, The body parts that they work to please are also the same parts they touch in their free time. They know how moving on something feels different than something moving on it... and so on."

Wanda tried to verbally confirm that she understood but you could tell she was a little lost in her head. She took a big sip of wine. And another.

"I was reading something the other day..." Wanda drew out and took a big breath. "Her tongue was on the...- and she had two fingers in-" Wanda stared at her hands, oblivious to the glaze over your eyes as your listened to your former teacher talk about fucking another woman. "Is that even possible?"

"Uh- um- yea- yes. It is. It takes a little bit of practice to figure out how to do it comfortably but - yes."

It was now your turn to take a big sip of wine.

"Oh I see."

"Do you have any other questions?" You know you shouldn't, but you wanted her to say yes. Your heart was racing and you could feel a velvety slick form in your pants.

"How are your classes going?" Her tone changed but she was still focused on her hands.

You let out a big gust of air from the tension you were feeling, semi relieved that the conversation had changed but also slightly confused. "Uh, classes are good. I've got most of the hard ones out of the way, so it's really just the fun ones left."

"Like what?"

"Well I have a science elective left so I'm taking intro to geology which is supposed to be wonderful. I've also signed up for a Shakespeare lecture that should be phenomenal too. It's being taught by my favorite professor, so I can't wait to have her again."

Wanda's eyes glanced up at that. "Again?"

"Yeah, I had her for my ethics class in freshman year and she was excellent. One of those teachers whose work I actually enjoyed doing. She really understood the students and designed her class structure to fit our interests."

Wanda didn't want to address the confusion that she was experiencing... almost jealousy, but the next question did not hesitate to fall from her lips.

"Do you have a picture?"

This caught you off guard. "Uh, yeah, I bet I could find her Linked-In or something." You pulled out your phone for a quick internet search. "Here she is on the school website."

You moved your phone in front of Wanda, not realizing until now how similar the two of them looked. Wanda also took notice.

"Was she on the list?" Wanda asked. "The list of teachers that students would talk about?"

"Oh, ha, no she wasn't." This line of questioning was risky, but you continued producing a response. "She was only part time and besides, that's more of a hormonal high school thing."

A brief pause entered the conversation. "Well, would she have been?" Wanda was speaking softly.

"Well, you were in high school once. What do you think?"

"Me?" Wanda's eyes widened and you nodded. "I think she would have been," the older woman drew out.

"I think you're right, Ms. Maximoff." You smirked as you took your phone back.

The two of you spent the rest of the half hour dancing around dangerous conversation, the mood lightening a little bit. You gained some insight into how the high school was holding up, and even heard some gossip about the faculty which made you really excited. You told Wanda more about what you were studying and what your plans were for after university, as well as how your summer was.

When dinner was finally ready, Wanda topped off the wine and the two of you sat down together to eat. The food was phenomenal and the company even better. The two of you went back and forth sharing memories from high school, true feelings about teachers and students being poured out. Wanda also got to know you more as you shared what books you had been reading and shows you had been watching.

Eventually, the room had quieted down as the two of you were focused on finishing the rest of your food.

"The food was astounding, thank you so much Wanda." You smiled as you set down your utensils and the older woman took her last bite.

"Mhm..." She swallowed, covering her mouth. "I would say 'you're welcome' but you helped me cook, dear, so I should really be saying thank you."

Your eyes met as the two of you stared, an odd silence threatening the conversation.

"So, clean up! What can I do to help?" You asked, standing up from the table with your plate.

"Oh, no, dear, please let me take care of it!" Before you knew it, Wanda had snatched your plate out of your hands.

"Are you-"

"Yes, yes, just sit down honey." She smiled at you as she moved around the kitchen, swiftly cleaning the mess from dinner. "So what has been your favorite class so far?" She asked as she worked. "Besides- besides that class with that teacher you like." The comment unintentionally sounded bitter, and the idea of Wanda being jealous entertained you.

"Well, besides ethics, I actually really liked my required fitness class. The semester I dedicated to the credit was a popular fitness semester, so finding an open section was hard, but I was able to get a seat in ballroom dance."

"Interesting! I didn't take you for much of a dancer." Wanda looked up at you from the sink, smiling.

"Neither did I, Wanda." You heard her lovely laugh again. "And I was not the star student in the class either, but I think I liked it the most."

"Oh yeah? What was your favorite dance?"

"The tango," you replied as you smiled, some bout of confidence overcoming you. "Would you like to learn?"

Wanda paused what she was doing then looked up at you with a smile. "Bold of you to assume to I don't already know it, but you would also be right. I would be open to it." She replied and you giggled, pulling out your phone for some music.

"Oh, now?!" Wanda watched as you stood up. "Honey, I-"

"No better time like the present!" You held out your hand for her to join you, the alcohol adding to your charm and boldness.

"Ok..." Wanda mumbled, wiping her hands off on the closest rag. She joined you in the open space, placing her hand in yours and you guiding it into place.

"Now the tango is a walking dance, so it is perfect to take it slow and steady. There are 5 basic steps, but i'll keep it simple and teach you two." Wanda nodded as you pressed play on your phone. "Now, screw traditional roles, but for the sake of simplicity, I will be the man and you the woman." You locked eyes with Wanda as she smiled, but you could see the looming intimacy behind her eyes. You could feel it too, standing this close to her body as you placed your hand on her back.

Teaching the first step was easy - Wanda was more inclined to the movements than you thought she would be. All you two were doing was striding in a circle, but every step you took became lighter and relaxing into each other was easier. Her nose tilted further towards you and yours towards hers - and for a moment, nothing else existed in the world.

Wanda was staring into yours eyes and you could barely breathe. Staring back was difficult - you kept averting your gaze to the floor or elsewhere in the house, desperately trying to comprehend the situation. But it was magical. Once you discovered though, that Wanda's piercing green eyes were the most relaxing thing to focus on, you were stuck.

And then you stepped on her toe.

"Fuck!" You exclaimed, tripping as Wanda struggled to keep you from falling.

"Are you alright?" She asked as you composed yourself.

"I should be asking you that! I'm sorry."

Wanda laughed. "I'm perfectly alright darling. Now what's this about a second step?"

You blushed, Wanda essentially admitting she was enjoying this and wanted to continue. This was bizarre.

"Uh, it's pretty much the same for me. You get to shake it up a little bit."

"Oh?" She smiled and held her hands back out, awaiting the comfort of your return. You stepped into her grasp. "I can't wait," She winked.

This woman was going to be the death of you.

"Uh-m... - good!" You swallowed. "This is essentially the same as the last one, except now you're pivoting into me instead of pacing." You returned your hands to their proper placements.

"Like this?" She attempted a few steps with you.

"Almost. You don't need so much power to twist. Try again?" The two of you resumed stepping together.

"How's this?"

She almost had it, her knees just weren't getting the proper guidance. You dropped your hands down to her hips.

"Oh-" You froze. "May I?" Your hands were softly touching her jeans. You found Wanda staring, eventually returning a nod. Gently, you applied more pressure onto her joints and resumed stepping. Now, you could easily move her hips, and she quickly picked up the proper motion. "There you go." You looked back up at her eyes. "You're doing so well, Wanda."

She was speechless as you moved your hands back up to their proper position, rarely letting your fingertips leave her surface. It was easy to assume that a lot was going on behind her eyes... the step became mindless to her as she continuously scanned over your facial features.

"Wanda?"

She snapped out of it and ended the dance just as the song ended. "Thank you for teaching me, darling." She smiled softly. "That was wonderful." She returned to the kitchen in silence, leaving you alone.

"You were able to pick it up rather quickly. I was surprised." You said, following her to the kitchen and leaning against a counter. You could tell though that there were still gears turning in her head, so you let her be the one to talk next.

This allowed for a moment of quiet as you watched her finish cleaning the pot from dinner. Her back was to you as she washed and rinsed, softly humming the song from the tango.

When she was done, she still hesitated to turn around.

"Y/N?" She finally spoke, still away from you.

"Yes?"

"When I asked you what you thought of me, you said...- you said you thought I was beautiful."

You quietly laughed. "Out of all that I said, that's what you took away?"

"Darling, I-" she hesitated again. "Did you mean it?"

You did not wait to conjure up a response. "I meant every word of what I said. I mean... I have practiced telling you all of that nonsense for so long even though I never thought it would happen. I just want you to know that... that I care about you. And I do think you're beautiful, Wanda Maximoff. Without a doubt."

"You think I'm beautiful?" She tried not to choke on her words.

You took a deep breath, having done all possible damage already. "Yes, yes I do." You hesitated before speaking again. "I think that you are beautiful. Inside and out."

Wanda finally turned around, and her response was something you couldn't have predicted in a million years.

"I... I think that you are beautiful too."

You stared at her in disbelief.

"You do?"

"In every single way, you are beautiful." She paused. "The way that you carry yourself... the way you smile, the way you laugh. The moments you hold onto and the memories you make. The way your eyes shine when you're proud of something... all of it is beautiful."

She pushed off the counter and walked towards you as a tear formed in your eye. Her hand reached up to brush it away as it rolled down your cheek, but instead of placing it back at her side, her hand stayed cradling the side of your face. Your eyes raced as you traced every line and mark on her skin, noticing how her green glazed stare wouldn't look away.

The two of you stayed like that, simply staring at each other, hearts racing.

"Y/N?" Her eyes didn't leave yours.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to do something really stupid."

"Ok."

For the first time in what felt like hours, her eyes left yours, and instead went to your lips. She met your gaze one more time before slowly leaning in, closing the distance between you.

You couldn't believe what was happening as everything in your body burned. She used her hand to tilt your lips in her direction, and before you knew it, her mouth was on yours.

You initially didn't return the kiss, but before long, her sensation became addicting and you needed to know what more felt like.

Your lips were now pushing back on hers with curiosity and interest, slowly working through the feelings coursing through your entire body. Her mouth only briefly left yours before you were returning to another delicate kiss, delighted to see that it was being reciprocated with the small swipe of a tongue.

You let her into your mouth, eager to know what it felt like.

And whatever she was doing... well... it rocked your world. You caught yourself about to moan, which quickly brought you to your senses as you pushed her away.

"Oh my god." You took a deep breath and stared at the floor.

"What?" 

"You kissed me." You looked up and found her gaze full of lust; dark eyes roaming your body unapologetically. You couldn't believe that look was real, but the excitement consumed you.

"You kissed me back." She said, finding your stare again. The only thing worse than her intense gaze was the fact that she was right.

You were finding it very difficult not to pull her back on top of you. "Shit."

"Did you- were you ok with that?" Wanda asked nervously. She seems as nervous as you were, almost as if she couldn't believe what was happening either. Neither of you knew that you wanted this, but everything feels right now that it's there.

"Fuck, yes." You rubbed your face in frustration, struggling to function in the current situation. The nerves, heat and alcohol were all mixing together and before you knew it, the real uncomfortable truth slipped out.

"I'm fucking obsessed with you, Ms. Maximoff." You held your breath after messing up on her name, but instead of correcting you, her jaw slightly dropped at your desperation.

Out of some bout of confidence, you stepped into her space, backed her into the counter and dismissed every reason why the two of you should not happen. Her eyes stared you down with anticipation and desire. You brought your hands up to her head and wove your fingers into her hair, craving to feel her again.

"It's my turn to do something really stupid now, ok?"

She nodded slowly, afraid to avert her gaze.

As you leaned in towards her mouth, she took a deep breath and shuttered. Her hands moved to hold your hips just before your lips met, and this time, it was her turn to freeze once your mouth touched hers. You immediately began to panic, but just as you pulled away, she pulled your hips into hers and met your mouth with haste.

Immediately melting into her touch, a soft moan quickly escaped your lips as you tugged on her fiery locks. She gasped in return, giving you the chance to slide your tongue into her mouth and elicit a sound off of her shaky breath.

After all of your longing and pining and secrecy and wishful thinking, she was yours. Right now, as her fingertips were feeling your body for the first time and her sensation was consuming, you were struggling to believe that everything was real.

But the warm skin touching your side was undeniable. The wet tongue that was gently exploring your mouth was unquestionable, and the moans that were escaping the woman in front of you were unlike anything you could conjure in a dream.

One of your hands shakily released its grasp on Wanda's hair and made its way around her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. When your action resulted in a smooth moan from the other woman, you smirked, not expecting that in a million years. You brought that hand down to her waist so you could hold her body as close as possible.

"You liked that, Ms. Maximoff?" You breathed into her mouth, knowing she could sense your heated grin.

"Shut up and do it again."

You lightly laughed at her begging, but you were desperate to please her. Leaning in to kiss her again, you pushed your hand on her waist from her belly button back up to her neck, this time squeezing harder. She threw her head back from the pleasuring pain, which you saw as an opportunity to turn your mouth's attention to her neck. As your warm lips met her skin and your hands went to roam her curves, she audibly gasped, and you were soaking up every reaction that you could drag out of her.

Wanda's hands found the back of your head as she encouraged your sucking and biting, careless of how aggressive you were being. Your own fingertips began to entertain the rim of her jeans, testing the waters as you caressed her lower back. You were itching to move lower, but every aspect of the current situation was territory that you never imagined you would be in before.

"Where can I touch you?" You whispered under her ear.

She laughed, followed by a soft moan as you bit her lobe. "Oh, detka, we've moved way past that line of consent," She replied as she grabbed one of your hands and moved it to her ass. "I want to feel you. All of you."

"Yes ma'am," You smirked and returned your kisses to her neck, placing both hands on her ass and pulling her hips into you. A groan reached your ears as your tongue met the base of her collar bone.

With your mouth now at the top of her shirt, your hands traced her sides as you bent your knees to meet her clothed belly button. Grasping and lifting the bottom of her shirt with your fingers, you began to stand back up, slowly kissing and licking a straight line up her front to where her bra connected in the center.

"Wait," She said as you were about to teethe the fabric, immediately dropping the shirt and standing all the way back up. Your heart was racing, unable to predict what she was about to say. She looked as if she was genuinely questioning the situation, and you were terrified. "Bedroom. Now."

Before you could process the sense of relief that washed over your body, Wanda was dragging you towards the hallway that led to her room. Even though you'd been in her space several times, the idea of fucking her in her own bed was driving you mad.

Before either of you could make it two steps into the room, you shut the door and placed her up against the wood. For a moment, all you could do was stare into her eyes, and all she could do was stare back. This was crazy. Her hand twitched on your back, and you lost control.

You immediately pressed your lips back onto hers, lifting her wrists up and holding them against the door. She groaned as your tongue explored her mouth, your hands eventually finding their way back to the rim of her shirt. Now wasting no time, you lifted the article of clothing off of her body as she gladly held her arms above her head.

After tossing the shirt aside, you found yourself taken aback by her body. Her simple, red bra complimented her soft skin, hugging her gently. The stretch marks that remained from her pregnancy were like highlights of the moon reflecting off of the ocean, and the way her breasts moved with her heavy breathing had you in a trance.

"Holy shit," you whispered, slowly moving your mouth towards her sternum, beginning to place soft kisses in a line.

"What?" Wanda asked.

"You're breathtaking."

"Well, I'm not what I used to be."

Your hands roamed her back as you continued your delicate kisses on her breasts.

"I don't want what you used to be, Wanda. I think you're perfect the way you are now." You said as you unclipped her bra, slipping the straps off of her shoulders. The two of you locked eyes as you slid the article down her arms. Her swollen lips and wondrous gaze were stuck on your being as your lungs seemed to be missing air.

To your surprise, Wanda's next move was to lunge at you, forcing you to walk backwards as her tongue explored your mouth and her hands worked to remove your shirt. You jumped when the backs of your knees met the bed, but Wanda didn't seem to notice as she pushed you back and climbed on top. Distracted by the feeling of being in her bed and her tongue beginning to explore your chest, you tangled your fingers into her hair and tugged.

"Fuck," She moaned, looking up at you, and you froze. A pair of of desperate green eyes and wet, swollen lips were staring up at you, and your english teacher had just moaned a curse word. You felt like you were on another planet.

"Shit, you're attractive." You mumbled and the older woman blushed. "Tugging hair, choking... this is only the beginning, Wanda." You smirked at her from under her body, and her only response was kissing you deeply.

You used this moment as an opportunity to push her on her back, quickly mounting her before she could protest, although you don't think she would have. You took the moment to drag your fingertips down her front and run each nipple over with your thumbs.

"Oh, Fuck, babygirl, you're driving me-" You eagerly latched your mouth onto a breast, receiving a heavy gasp from the woman below you. You continued on with your work, playing with the free nipple in one hand and stroking a thigh with the other. Her fingers were dancing across your back, eventually making their way to unclasp your bra.

The moment you felt the relief, you gently bit down on her delicate nipple, causing Wanda to arch upwards and rake her nails down your back. The pain caught you by surprise as you leaned into her and moaned into her ear. You could feel her smirk against your skin.

"Shut up." You groaned.

"Make me." She replied, trying to tug your bra down your arms.

You sat up to fully remove the article of clothing, entertained by the hands that were running up your side to cup your breasts. You rested for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Wanda's massaging.

"Is this what you wanted from me, detka? Is this what you picture when you think of me?"

"To be honest, I never let myself consider it. But I always wondered what it would be like..." You smirked and placed your hands on her stomach. "Why? Is this something you've fantasized about? Having me on top of you, topless and moaning?" You leaned back over her body, your hands moving to massage her breasts and your breath teasing her other nipple.

"Oh honey," She laughed and moved her touches to and down your back. "I've thought about all of this. What your mouth on my tits would be like, how your fingers would feel inside of me..." Your movements stopped as you stared at her. "How hard would you fuck me and with how many fingers and how much tongue. How much would you edge me and make me crazy. What you would look like in-between my legs with my cum dripping from your lips? I'm simply curious, darling." Her hands cupped your ass as you worked up a response.

"Well aren't you lucky, Ms. Maximoff," You began with a shakey voice, one hand holding you up and the other teasing her stomach. "Cause you get to find out." You moved your fingers to the top her jeans and you popped the button open. "Have you ever pictured me rubbing out your cunt?" Wanda simply stared. "Well, we should probably start there." You slid your hands into her jeans and started making circles over her clothed pussy, watching as she took a deep breath and opened her mouth. You could feel her slickness in the fabric.

"Fuck, Wanda, you're already drenched." You groaned as you finally placed your lips on her other breast. Her wet cunt was already coating your fingers and you realized that you were so close to tasting her. "You're so wet for me, I've hardly done anything."

"Darling, you've done more for me than anyone else ever has." She groaned.

"Do you want me to do more?"

"Baby, please."

You immediately took your hand out of her jeans and turned your attention to taking them off entirely. You could hardly contain yourself as she lifted her hips and helped you slide the denim off of her skin, her now drenched panties completely visible.

"Wow," You whispered, crawling back on top of her body, bringing your face up to hers so your noses could meet again.

"Hi," She smiled sheepishly, and you gave her a loving kiss.

"Gods, you're stunning. I can't wait to be inside you." You kissed her again.

"I want to touch you too, babygirl." Wanda whispered and you smiled.

"Touch anything you'd like, Ms. Maximoff."

Wanda's eyes scanned your body. "I also want these off." She pulled at the hem of your pants then dragged her fingernails up and down your sides.

Shivering, you dismounted Wanda and stood up, putting on a show of you taking off your pants.

"You mean these old things?" You bent over so Wanda could see the fabric sliding down your ass, taking your time even though it was painful.

"Detka, you're killing me." Wanda sat up to watch as the hem dragged down your legs, revealing your most flattering panties. The attention she was giving you was lighting you on fire. You heard her audibly gasp when you started to pull at the final piece of clothing, but you instead let go of your panties and turned back around, smirking.

"Now, Ms. Maximoff, I can't do all of the work for you." You waltzed back over to the bed, remounting the older woman. You watched as her eyes followed the dark spot on your only remaining article. Grinning, you leaned into her ear. "Ill touch yours if you touch mine."

"Please, baby." She whispered. You sat up so she could see all of you again, this time reaching a hand down to where your panties covered your pussy. Making sure she was watching, you pulled the fabric aside.

"Go on, Wanda, it's all yours."

She slowly reached a hand to your slickness, and the moment you finally felt contact, you took a deep breath. At first, she just held one finger there, but eventually, small movements began to circle your clit. You moaned. "Good job, M- Ms. Maxi- mo--" She slipped a finger into you. "FUCK. You feel so good. You're doing so good." You noticed Wanda's eyes were glued to her finger moving in and out of you, trying to fill in the picture that was still hidden by the thin fabric.

You opened your eyes just in time to see her pull out her finger and bring it up to her lips, sensually sucking you off and whining at your taste. Excitedly, you let go of your panties and leaned down to taste yourself on her tongue.

"How did that feel, Wanda?" You smirk, coming out of the deep kiss and pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

"God- babygirl... you- you're driving me crazy." Her hips softly rolled under you as she pulled your head back down for another aching kiss. You ran the hand that wasn't supporting your weight over her breasts and down her body, scratching at the skin below her belly button. "Please, honey... I..." She mumbled in-between kisses, you hardly giving her a chance to speak. When you finally pulled away a few inches, no more words were leaving her lips as her chest heaved for air. 

"What is it, Ms. Maximoff?" You smirked, playing with the elastic around her waist. 

"I need you to touch me." 

"Yes ma'am." You watched her facial expressions as your hand finally dove into her panties, the moisture immediately apparent. Her eyes widened when your pointer finger found the velvety slick and you immediately knew you would do anything in your power to make sure she knew how good another woman could make her feel. Your digit slowly started exploring the rest of the area, soft moans escaping the older woman as you glazed over her clit and entrance. 

"Have you ever been touched like this, Wanda?" You whispered into her ear, making a few nips at her lobe.

"N-no..." She sighed as you began intentionally circling her clit. 

"Nobody to notice what you like... what you want. This wet, pretty pussy wasted on cheap condoms and a quick fuck."

A sinful moan left her body as your lips once again returned to her neck, you quickly learning where her sensitive spots were. "Shit, baby." Her nails were digging into your shoulder blades. 

"Nobody to know how warm and soft you are," You said, shoving a finger into her entrance, groaning as she gasped. "And it's a damn shame, cause you feel so perfect, Ms. Maximoff." You met her eyes when you could see the surprise on her face at your last statement. Your finger started moving slowly in and out, trying to map out every dip and line you could feel. "So perfect." 

You once again reattached your lips to hers, feeling the vibrations from her moans on your tongue. You could stay like this forever, you felt. But Wanda did not. 

"Detka, I need more. Please." Her slight accent slipping through, reaching down to your core. 

You pulled your finger out of her and she whined, fearing her pleading made you step back. Little did she know, but she would be getting exactly what she asked for. 

"I would love to give you more, but these are gonna need to come off." You dragged your soaked finger down her stomach to grab at her panties and she frantically nodded.

"Yeh- yes please. I want to feel all of you." 

You smirked, moving back to finally drag the rest of the fabric down her legs. When you finally brought yourself to look at the painting between her legs though, you could hardly breathe. Her folds were swollen and soaked with her wetness, slightly moving with her body as her chest rose and fell. You felt so divided, debating consuming her immediately or taking your time to work her up. 

You realized while the first option was so tempting, the second would give her the full experience. You slowly reached your fingertips to graze over her thigh, small whimpers coming from the older woman. 

"Oh, Wanda, you are divine." You muttered, now dragging both palms up her waist and down the sides of her ass as you repositioned yourself closer to her core. Eyes dragging up and down her person when you spotted the wetness that you had left on her stomach earlier. You leaned down to clean it all up, finally getting to taste her tanginess on your tongue. You moaned into her skin.

"Detka..." She gasped as you moved your mouth down to her inner thighs and you hands to grip her waist. Her smell was driving you crazy as her taste lingered in your throat. You began to slowly suck at the warm soft terrain, finding it easy to pull the skin between your teeth. A hand was placed on your head, pulling on your hair in a desperate attempt to get you closer to her core. You simply laughed, leaving red spots everywhere in-between her thighs.

Despite your grip on her hips, she still found some movements, directing your attention to the quiet sticky sounds coming from her pussy. You watched in a daze as her small twitches pushed around the slick, begging to be touched again.

You couldn't take it anymore, fully embracing her wetness with a torturous lick up her core. The groan that escaped Wanda was heavenly as she tried to tug you back onto her. You complied, picking up a slow routine of collecting her mess into your mouth. You dug your fingers deeper into her sides, addicted to her pain response. 

"Oh, good girl, baby. That, wow." She said as you began to suckle on her clit, striving for every reaction you could get out of her. "Holy fuck."

You smirked, finally sliding a finger back into her dripping hole and continuing to work on her clit with your mouth. You knew this pace you were making would not be enough, but you wanted the older woman to beg for it. You could tell she already wanted to as your hair only got tugged harder and finger nails started scratching at your arms. 

After only a short time, you decided to amp up the teasing with another finger into her entrance, but you would not change your pace. You took breaks on her clit when you felt she was building up too many knots, paying attention to her audible sighs as if she was taking a cold plunge and making sure her lungs were still working. 

"Darling, please... oh-"

You blew on her clit as you watched how your fingers slid in and out of her, collecting up her slick.

"Baby please make me cum. You feel s-so good but you're destroying me Y/N/N."

"You want me that bad, Ms. Maximoff?" You grinned. 

"Darling, its not a want. It's a need. Now. Please."

"Ok, as long as you look at me as I fuck you clean. I want you to know what good love feels and looks like." You smirked as she pulled a pillow under your head, elated when she gasped at the image before her... your chin soaked, eyes hungry and smile cruel. You kept eye contact with her as you sunk back down to her core, living in the light of her stare. You began to continue the licks and pumps, but she let her eyes roll back, which you hadn't told her to do. 

"Eyes on me, Ms. Maximoff. I'm in charge right now." You couldn't believe those words had just rolled off of your tongue, but clearly she hadn't either as your gazes reconnected. 

"You little sl-" She went speechless as you started a more aggressive pace, ensuring her green glare was on you. Once you had decided she would stay like that, you moved all of your attention to her pussy, finally tying all the knots together in her core. Her moans and whimpers were everything to you, even when you noticed her upper body was becoming too weak. You decided to let her finish, knowing she more than deserved it. 

"Detka, I think I'm gonna cum- I" 

"The stage is yours" You mumbled into her, internally grinning. You pumped a few more times and the next thing you know, Wanda has thrown her head down and arched off the bed. You could feel her cum as you watched the sight before you, the older woman unable to control her high. 

You stared in awe as your fingers worked her off her high, chest heaving and hands rubbing her eyes. You slowly pulled your fingers out of her twitchy hole, making sure her eyes were back on you as you raised your digits to your lips. 

"Wow, babygirl, that was... amazing." She pulled you over for a kiss, adjusting to her taste on your tongue. "Thank you."

You giggled. "You know, Wanda, another nice thing about women is that they have the stamina to make you cum more than once in a night... if you're interested." You smirked.

Her jaw slightly dropped. "More than once?"

╚══《✧》══╝

Thanks for reading!

[mandoalorian]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

masterlist

warnings: EXPLICIT, no minors. m!masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism to some extent, riding, unprotected p in v. both so so touch starved. joel has a lot to teach the reader.

notes: 1000 notes on my last post— thank you. I haven’t written in a long time and get quite anxious to post new fics, but when the response is that great, how could I not? You make me feel way more confident with my writing and encourage me to post more often. I hope to soon get to a place where I can start accepting requests again and writing what you want me to.

Joel didn’t like you— that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since daybreak, when he left Tess at the QZ to deal with ‘unfinished business’ and promised her to deliver you to the outskirts of Boston without Fedra knowing. It was a difficult journey with the soldiers scouting the area on every corner, but after around six hours of travelling on foot, you and Joel had reached the border of Cornwall, Canada, which is exactly where you needed to be.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you wanted to be in Canada because that’s where your parents were. Or so, where you last heard they were. You’d do anything to reunite with them and make sure they were safe but you weren’t exactly good with a gun and you weren’t a particularly fast runner either. You needed someone like Joel to smuggle you out of the Quarantine Zone. He was your protector.

“You haven’t said a word to me all day,” you acknowledged when you couldn’t sleep that night. You lay next to Joel in your own sleeping bag, framed by a roaring fire and underneath tall, forested shelter. “Why?”

Joel huffed out a sigh and rolled over onto his back, now looking up at the starry night sky.

He didn’t reply.

You gave him a few minutes and tried to gather your thoughts, hoping he’d eventually cave and tell you why he’d hated you all this time. Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. Hell, you’d only met him earlier in the day. You’d hardly had enough of an influence on him to hate you. You liked to think of yourself as big and strong and apathetic in regards to people’s opinion of you. In the world that you lived in, you couldn’t afford to give a damn. And yet, you did. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. You got anxious about it if you thought about it too long and so you would desperately try and find a distraction or think of something else to focus on. The trees— the stars— the fire— Joel.

He was the epitome of ‘grumpy old man’. You briefly wondered if he was this grumpy before the apocalypse. Why was he so highly strung? Sure, life wasn’t exactly good or easy for him— but it wasn’t good or easy for anyone.

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to go to Canada,” you said slowly, figuring that if you could open up to the man, then maybe he could at least offer you a few words back. “My parents are there. I think they are anyway. My father sent a letter over to the QZ months ago but I only just got it on Tuesday. I don’t know if they’re still there but I need to check. My mom is sick and I just… need to be with them… and I couldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t last two seconds out there with infected. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, tha—“

“Okay.” Joel cut you off abruptly. He didn’t want your ‘thank you’s’ or your tokens of gratitude. He was doing a job and he was only here to get paid.

“Where are you from?” you asked him quietly. He shuffled but didn’t reply, and so you were prompted to follow on further. “You got an accent. Southern, there’s no doubting that. Tennessee…—?”

“Texas.” Joel corrected and you smiled to yourself. He may have been a man of few words but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you think he was from Tennessee.

“Texas huh?” you beamed brightly. Joel didn’t move his head, but he looked over to you and noticed your grin. “So you’re like, a cowboy.”

You giggled playfully and nudged his arm, but he only grunted and closed his eyes.

“You ever ride a horse?” you asked him.

“You’re annoying,” Joel sighed, rubbing his temples, but he supposed that— if he had to be honest with himself— he was somewhat amused by your plentiful questions. “But yeah. I’ve rode a horse.”

“I always wanted to ride a horse, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it,” you admitted sheepishly. “No co-ordination.”

“It’s all in the hips.” Joel explained and his interest in horses took you by surprise. This was the most he talked all day.

You pursed your lips together fighting back another smile. There was no denying the rush of blood that flushed to your cheeks as you felt them heat up over the thought of the Cowboy riding his horse. But then you remembered how he’d also just expressed his irritation with you and your abundance of pointless questions and you felt your heart drop in your chest slightly. A pang of guilt.

You told yourself that it was okay— no big deal— and it didn’t matter if he found you annoying. No, it didn’t matter that the extremely attractive Texan man who hadn’t uttered a single word to you all day, found you annoying.

You’d been so lonely recently. So lonely. You’d kill for a friend. A partner. Someone. And perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up when you met Joel. You figured that maybe you could finally have someone in your life who liked you back for you, and didn’t want to use you or hurt you in some kind of unexpected way.

“I— I don’t mean to be annoying, y’know. I just— I’m sorry,” you murmured, rolling over onto your side and facing the other way from Joel. “Uhm— good night.”

Joel wasn’t a heartless monster. He wasn’t as cold and calculating as he let off to be, but he sure as hell wasn’t innocent and pure-of-heart either. He was a broken shell of a man simply trying to get by, and the way he saw it, he couldn’t afford the time or effort to make friendships or have partners or even anything more than an acquaintance. It just wasn’t on his radar.

And although he was certainly taken aback with how beautiful you were, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything he wouldn’t do with any other piece of cargo. This was a delivery, after all. A smuggle run. And he had to be professional about it.

But you were so— so beautiful. During the hours of hiking you and Joel did through the fields and forests, he often lagged behind you and consciously allowed you to take the lead when he thought it was safe to do so. Really though, he just liked to take a few seconds to admire you when you weren’t looking. You were funny and smart and although you couldn’t aim a gun to save your life, you might’ve been able to charm a Clicker away from you if you tried hard enough.

Joel enjoyed listening to you babble on, despite displaying no signs or signals to show that he had any interest in you. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression. He really did like you, but if he dared to open his mouth, Joel was certain he’d slip up and say the wrong thing or embarrass himself. And so to him, it was better to not say anything at all. However, his heart would warm when you would get bored along the way and start humming— and eventually singing. You were in no way melidous, but still, you weren’t trying to be. Joel wondered what it would be like in another universe where your lives weren’t constantly at stake. Maybe then he’d grow the courage to actually have a decent conversation with you.

But this wasn’t another universe. This was reality and Joel had lost all hope in humankind a long time ago. Joel allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts for a long time and by the time he’d snapped out of it, you were already fast asleep next to him, emitting light snores. He watched you, watched as your chest rose and fell with every breath. You looked so peaceful.

Truth was, Joel wasn’t entirely sure he could fall asleep here next to you. There was no way of telling if this forest was safe. Certainly he found it difficult to imagine there’d be signs of infected around but people? That was certainly plausible. Making sure his rifle was close enough to grab in case of an emergency, Joel took another glance towards you.

So goddamn pretty.

Joel didn’t know when, but at some point in the night, he’d gotten hard. Probably because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night. He felt like such a creep for watching you sleep, but even under the pearly white stars and the sunset orange embers bouncing from the campfire, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever saw. And he wanted you.

Now, Joel probably wasn’t as touch-starved as you were, but still, it had been a helluva long time since he last got laid. Without drawing his gaze away from you, he reached his hand down into his sleeping bag and dipped it into his boxer shorts began to pump at his already throbbing manhood. His eyes snapped shut at the shock of the thrill which raced through his body. There was something so erotic about doing this outside, with you laying next to him, unbeknownst to it all. Stifling a groan, with his free hand Joel gathered the material of his sleeping bag and squeezed it with pleasure.

The coarseness, roughness, of his hands was never ideal, but he had no trouble imagining the softness of yours. Your hands were a lot smaller than his, and your fingers were a lot thinner, and as he stroked his cock, his toes curled at the thought of you in between his legs, playing with him.

He hissed your name through his teeth as he begin to feel a knot tie in his lower stomach, indicating that he was close. God, he’d only been at himself for a few minutes and he was going crazy for you. You stirred slightly at the mention of your name but Joel wasn’t paying attention anymore. Now his eyes were shut and his entire body was tensed up as his hand movements became faster. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if he finished quick because the longer he touched himself, the more chance you’d wake up and discover him.

But for some reason, that only stirred Joel on even more. Of course, he wasn’t trying to wake you up, but there came a point where he was so enveloped in his own lustfilled thoughts, he didn’t even notice you whisper his name softly through the night.

“Joel?”

Briefly, Joel registered the sound of your voice but he thought nothing of it. So deep in thought— he was close. He moaned your name back.

You stilled, your eyes widening when your gaze dropped to his crotch and you noticed the movements of his hands underneath the thin material of the sleeping bag.

“Oh… Joel.” you mumbled, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you nimbly slipped out of your sleeping bag and quietly crawled over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, but between the tinnitus in his right ear and being so lost in his own thoughts, you couldn’t blame him. On your knees and by his side, you placed the palm of your hand on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, alerting him immediately.

His movements stopped and his eyes snapped open in horror, only to be met by your wide smirk.

“Hey cowboy,” you teased, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Shit.” Joel cursed, looking away from you. “I— you shouldn’t have saw me— I’m—“

You hushed him by placing a soft, chase kiss upon his lips. Joel froze and softened under you, completely feeling at ease under your touch. It has been years since he had been kissed. You hovered over him, finding his gaze in the dark before pressing a harder, more intimate kiss to his lips. Joel moaned underneath you and brought out his hand from under the sleeping bag, releasing his cock and bringing it to cradle the back of your head.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you giggled, unzipping Joel’s sleeping bag and bringing yours next to his, giving you both some kind of barrier between the grassy ground.

Joel’s belt was already undone and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

Still beaming, you straddled Joel, positioning yourself over his lap and continued unbuttoning his shirt before before peeling it off his torso and discarding it into the corner.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joel asked softly and his tone of voice took you by surprise.

“If I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t be grinding on you already, cowboy,” you giggled, thrusting your hips over the material of his jeans and getting a feel for his bulge.

Joel swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. Hastily, he brought his hands to your waist and guided you over his hips. You tossed back your head and let out a moan.

“Oh, I need you.” you whimpered, bringing Joel’s hands to your breasts and letting him feel the hard pebbles of your nipples under your t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Joel tugged on your shirt and you let him pull it off your body. He then smoothly unclipped your bra and let it fall off, before using his large, rough hands to cup and fondle your breasts.

“Joel,” you gasped, pushing back onto his legs and taking the hem off his jeans in your grip. “I need you,” you repeated. “Need you inside of me.”

Joel choked out a wanton groan at your words and nodded his head again. You took his signal as confirmation that he wanted this too, and tugged down his denim along with his underwear.

You removed your own pants and then sunk down ontop of him, sighing an air of relief when you felt the skin on skin contact. Joel adjusted himself and gave you a questioning look.

“I’m ready.” you whispered and leaned down, pressing your chest against Joel’s. Joel pushed himself inside of you and you tensed up, digging your nails into his shoulders as you adjusted to him. He was so big and thick, and yet he felt like he fit inside you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

Joel slowly thrusted upwards and into you, stretching you out. When you felt comfortable enough, you sat upright and rested your hands on his tummy.

“Show me how to ride, cowboy,” You urged. “You said earlier, it’s all in the hips? Show me.”

Joel looked up at you with wide eyes and extended his arms around you. He held onto you, and you felt like putty under his grip.

“Show me what you got, girl.” The handsome man demanded, his voice having dropped an octave.

You began to roll your hips over him, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut. “That feel good for you?” you taunted, letting a giggle escape your lips. Joel wordlessly nodded.

“Try— try circle your hips.” Joel requested, and immediately you changed your movements. You’d do anything to please him. You felt yourself get increasingly wet, making it easier and more comfortable to move freely. “That’s good.” he praised under his breaths.

“This is how you ride?” you enquired, raising an eyebrow as you continued to circle your hips.

“This is how you learn,” Joel corrected. “It’s all a process, baby girl. You go straight into the ridin’, you’ll get hurt.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed himself into you, the curve of his cock hitting you in just the right spot, You held onto him, gripping onto the broad of his back and this time, Joel kissed you. He yearned for your lips— for your affection. He dragged his tongue along your collarbone and planted sloppy kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and finally to your mouth. He slid his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entry, which you quickly granted him, and started to make out with you.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips, and he pulled off you, allowing you to speak. “I need more.”

“Think you’re ready for your next lesson?” he quizzed, pressing his nose against yours.

“Mhm.” you replied. “Teach me.”

Joel leaned back again and brought his hands down to your hips. “I want you to bounce on my cock sweet girl, show me what you can do.”

You grinned with excitement and began to move yourself up and down, grinding on his cock so you could feel every ridge and vein against your walls.

You felt yourself clench around him, indicating that you were close.

“Shit, like this I won’t last long.” Joel admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Me neither,” you replied, and began to speed up your movements. “Joel— please. Please cum inside of me.”

Joel panted, bringing his hands up to massage your tits. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, oh— please.” you begged him. “Please cowboy.”

With those two words, Joel spurted ropes of his warm seed inside of you, painting your walls a milky white. Feeling him fill you, you clenched one last time around his cock and let a blinding hot light envelope you as you rode out your own high.

You rolled off the man and laid next to him, catching your breath. “How was that? Did I pass the test?” you nudged him playfully.

Joel let out a laugh and you felt your heart flutter at the sound of him displaying genuine happiness. “You passed the test,” he chuckled. “But— there’s still plenty more for you to learn.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “You do make a pretty good teacher.”

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. “Sun will rise in a few hours, you should go back to sleep.” he hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, still in sheer bliss, and smiled.

You couldn’t believe that just a few hours earlier, you were so sure that Joel hated you.

You’d never been so wrong.

——— Taglist: ———

(I’m working on rebuilding a brand new taglist ever since returning to Tumblr. Let me know if you want to be added!)

@pedrosprincess

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 5)

Summary: Russell's taken care of the reader's problem but things take a turn and the happy couple may not be so happy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,300ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury/past drugging/brief mention of attempted assault (not shown) mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker, murder, self-worth issues

A/N: Thank you all for taking this journey with me with writing this new character! I might return to this world someday but until then, please enjoy the finale!

__________

When you pulled up to the dark house, you noticed Russell’s car had been pulled into the garage and covered with a tarp. You swallowed as you pulled in beside it, biting back bile when Owen parked right behind you, preventing any escape if it came to that. You’d given Russell nearly thirty minutes notice to prepare. You really hoped whatever he had planned was going to be over with fast.

“Fuck,” said Owen, dashing from his car in the downpour to inside the garage. He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap. You’d seen the gash on his forehead before but from the overhead light, a skull fracture was very visible. The dried blood had matted into his thick hair and, along with the other injuries, made him look half-dead. 

“Why don’t you go relax inside, honey?” you forced out when you exited, slamming the door shut loudly, hoping Russell picked up on the fact you were here. “I’ll get the bags and then I’ll take a look at those cuts.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t take too long.” You didn’t like how he kept saying that. He’d hung off of you at the store. Even if he wasn’t a raging psycho, personal space was still a thing.

You pretended to fuss about at the trunk as he went in the door from the garage to the house. It was quiet for a beat, your gaze locked on the open door in the corner.

Two quick shots rang out and you hit the cement floor hard. Nothing could be heard over the rain, your heart hammering away in your chest. Russell wouldn’t have shot Owen, would he? No, Russell would have snuck up on him, taken him out before he knew what hit him.

So had Owen been shooting? Was Russell hurt? You slowly sat up on your hands and knees, crawling along the side of the car until you reached the hood. You peaked your head around the corner and saw a pair of legs lying on the ground through the open door. It looked like Owen so you carefully rose, flinching when Russell came bounding in from behind you.

He held up his hands, your eyes widening at the blood staining his crisp white tee. 

“What-”

“My stitches tore,” he said, turning his bicep towards you, the blood staining underneath the bandage. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, glancing back inside to where the body lay motionless. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet,” said Russell, inching past you towards a work bench. “Although he did shoot my fucking front door. Do you have any idea how much a custom mahogany door costs? I might kill him for that alone.”

Russell opened a drawer, taking out duct tape and zip ties. He slammed it shut, pausing with his back to you.

“He’s not going to leave you alone if I let him live.” 

“I know. He’s been following me for awhile I guess,” you said. 

“I can frame him for Elpine’s murder if you don’t want me to kill him.” You leaned back against your car, Russell setting the items on the bench and joining you. “I don’t have to…you know.”

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-” You went to his workbench and ripped off a garbage bag from the roll, Russell closing his eyes. “Y/N, you should stay out here. Let me do this.”

“Owen started slipping roofies into my drinks when I was fifteen.” His head snapped up as you sighed. “He drugged me twice but nothing happened because my dad was around. I had to be more careful once dad started to lose it. Owen’s a good decade older than me I’m sure you noticed. I’ve been scared of this guy for too long. I’m not asking you to kill him. I’m asking you to show me how to do this myself.”

“I appreciate how strong you are but I’m doing it,” he said, taking the bag from you. You dropped your hand, frowning up at him. He sighed, stroking your cheek with his clean hand. “Your soul has enough scars for a lifetime. Don’t add more.”

“You don’t have to kill someone for me, Russell. You don’t need that on you either. Look what you’ve already done.”

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

Three Hours Later

“To be perfectly clear, I’m doing this for Y/N, not you,” said Colter with a coldness you didn’t love. You knew Russell’s relationship with his little brother was strained but you’d thought it had gotten better over the past few days.

“Yeah, well it don’t take a genius to see you like her better,” said Russell, Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move. “I’ll never ask you for a thing again. You never even have to speak to me. Think what you want about me. Just please do this for Y/N’s sake.”

“I already…” huffed Colter when you side eyed him with narrowed eyes. He let out a slow exhale. “Fine. You owe me, Russell. Big.”

“Colter,” you said, nodding towards his truck. You left Russell as he went back to taping the large cooler in the garage shut. You assumed he’d put Owen inside and cleaned up while you were gone at the store. The rain had paused momentarily but there was another batch of storms coming through soon. You sighed as you stopped next to the younger Shaw, Colter crossing his arms. “I’m not letting you do this. I know Russell asked but I can’t let you move a body for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, face turning into a scowl. 

“I’m not moving…Russell!” Russ’ head popped up, Colter becoming increasingly annoyed. “Tell me what is going on right now or I swear you and me are done. Forever.”

Russell sighed, throwing his head back. “I may have lied about the Y/N wanting to tag along with you so she can tidy up her place in Virginia.”

“You what?” you asked, storming over to him. “You were trying to pawn me off on Colter again? For what! Owen’s dead, there’s no one left to bother me.”

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Slowly Russell met your gaze, ignoring Colter behind you. “So is this how it’s going to be? Any time everything’s not perfect you’re going to drop me on your brothers doorstep at the drop of a hat? News flash, Colter isn’t my babysitter. I’m a grown woman who has seen and handled more crap than you know. I thought you didn’t think of me as a damsel.”

“I don’t but-”

“But you don’t want me around for the hard stuff. I got the message.” 

“Y/N, someone else could still be left. They could kill you-” You held up your hand, Colter heading back to his truck to give you some space.

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

Russell swallowed, face going stoic. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Your heart dropped like a rock into the pit of your stomach, Russell’s jaw clenching. “You should pack up your stuff here and go with Colter. Go back to Virginia. You’re probably right. This was just attraction, plain and simple.”

“Russell, that’s not what I was saying-” 

“Yeah, it was. Just go. Please. I’ll deal with Owen. Just go back to Virginia and start your life over away from people like us.” With that he brushed past you for Colter, ignoring his repeated calls. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled as you went inside and shoved the few belongings that weren’t in the trunk of your car into a bag. You very purposefully left every pair of underwear, bra and pajamas he’d bought you behind. The cheap sports bra and cotton underwear you’d bought earlier would get you through until you were home.

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine. You were free of the mafia. Free of guys with fucked up pasts. Your options were limitless.

And thank god Colter was smart enough to not ask about your red rimmed eyes by the time you were on the road.

Five Days Later

You gave Colter a wave from your front step as he drove off down the street. It’d taken only two days to drive cross country this time. Apparently you drove faster when you were upset. Or you didn’t sleep as much. Either way, Colter didn’t ask and was happy to get to Virginia where he had a missing accountant to find.

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room. In exchange, Colter got you hooked up with the basics of reward work. There were some extra perils to the job being a woman but also advantages that Colter didn’t have. He went over finding jobs, finding a team, learning how to get access to tools and databases. You didn’t have a lot of confidence in going after a full fledged disappearance yet but Colter mentioned it wasn’t always people that were what was missing.

By the end of his short stay, you had information overload but were grateful for the chance to start doing something good for once in your life.

Meanwhile, Russell hadn’t reached out once. You had to assume he’d disposed of Owen. You weren’t sure why you were still waiting for a text or a call. It was pretty clear things were over. Russell was too protective and you weren’t going to let another man tell you what to do again. 

Yet, you knew you were at fault too. Russell had just killed a guy in his house for you and he knew a hell lot more about getting away with a murder than you did. Russell had points for not wanting to involve you. And you had to be an asshole and pressure him for more when there was literally a dead body at your feet.

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, leaning against the kitchen island with your head lowered. “Why did I do that?”

The doorbell rang, your head slowly rising. You sighed as you went to it, pulling it open quickly. 

“Did you forget-” You cut yourself off when you didn’t see Colter standing there. No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands. “Russ? What-”

“Let me get this out and then I’ll get out of your life forever if that’s what you want,” he said. You leaned against the door jam, Russell taking a deep breath. “Y/N, I like you. A lot. Too much probably for how long we’ve known each other. Everything you said was right. I avoid my problems because it’s a hell of a lot easier to fix someone else’s in my experience.”

He swallowed, glancing at his feet. “Owen could have hurt you at that store. He could have taken you, shown up at the house and killed you. I fucked up and you don’t seem to understand that Owen’s obsession and how fucking smart you are is the only reason we’re still here and he’s not. I told you I took care of it and I didn’t. I was angry at myself and wanted you somewhere safer than with me so I pushed your buttons on purpose. I lied on purpose so you’d get mad and leave with Colter. You deserve a good man and I’m not him. I kill people. I use sex as a way to be close to women but then never let myself be in a relationship because I don’t want them to see beneath the surface and see the shit that’s in there. I want better for you than me.”

Russell looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face. “Can we try being friends again and maybe I can become that man that deserves you along the way?”

“Russell,” you sighed. You stepped forward, cupping his cheeks, green eyes full of caution. “We can be friends. I’d like it if we were more than that, though.” 

He slowly smiled, his lip ticking up when you stroked his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You do not have to share your deepest darkest secrets with me, never mind the first day we’re actually together. That was unfair of me. I just want you to know you can share them with me if you want to.” 

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Y/N,” he said softly. “Dozens. Some of them, most of them, I never gave two shits about. No nightmares. No trauma. That’s not normal. It’s been years since I’ve felt all that bad about killing.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about killing monsters,” you said. He closed his eyes and you leaned in, kissing his forehead. “S’that why you didn’t want me to kill Owen?”

“Moral and practical reasons,” he whispered. “I don’t kill out of revenge. I don’t think I ever have. It always has another purpose. Protect someone, protect a group or the general public from a threat. Some psych told me once that’s why I don’t struggle as much with what I’ve done as some other folks. The way I grew up helped me with that. But I do struggle with it still and you’ve struggled enough. You don’t need that on you.”

“I understand. I’m so used to being controlled and told what to do…I can never go back to that.”

“You never will,” he said, opening his eyes. You tilted your head, Russell turned into your touch to match. “I’m sure I’ll fuck things up again. We can be friends if that’s all you ever want.”

“I don’t want to be just friends. So what if we fight? That’s what couples do.” You took his hand in yours and the flowers in the other, leading him inside behind you. 

“I quit my job a few days ago.” You froze, spinning around on your heels. He shrugged, still holding your hand. “I can’t change my life without making some changes.”

“You still want to do that home brew for a career?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to give it a shot.” He spotted the stacks of papers on your kitchen table and open computer. “Colter offer you a spot on his team?”

“He did at first but I want to try doing it my way, stop patching up the bad guys and doing something good. He warned me it can be dangerous work though, especially as a woman flying solo.”

“He makes very good points,” said Russell, thumbing at your lip when you smiled. “What’s that look for?”

“Maybe you could be on my team sometimes, show me a few moves from the expert.” You started to walk backwards towards your bedroom, Russell’s eyebrows raising. “If you want to.”

“I’ll show you any kind of moves you’d like, qark.” He held his ground though, stopping you in place. You waited for the but to come, for him to push back on getting back together. Instead, he took the flowers from your hand and went into your kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water. He set the flowers on the island before rejoining you, resting his hands on your hips. “I like the idea of working together as partners.”

“But…” you said, Russell kissing the top of your head.

“But you are far too kind, my queen of darkness. I was expecting to get told to get lost tonight and I have plans I can’t get out of with my friends very shortly.”

“Oh,” you said, Russell’s finger tips finding the ends of your hair and playing with a few strands. “If you have plans, we can meet up another-”

“You want to know my dark side?” Your eyes flicked to meet his, your head nodding once. “You can’t unknow what kind of man I am once you do. I don’t blame you if you change your mind about me.”

“I want to know you. All of you.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Go change into something discreet. Dark clothes. Leave your phone home. If at any point you want to leave, say so and I bring you right back here, understand?” You nodded, Russell backing away. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?”

“You can change in the bedroom with me.” He smirked but backed away.

“Another time. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, Russell glancing away.

“Don’t be mad but we need to pay Owen a visit.”

Twenty minutes later you quietly followed Russell into what looked like a decommission warehouse that should have been torn down a decade ago. The building was pitch black apart from the single light coming from the end of a hallway. You stuck behind Russell as you entered the room, stopping when you found six different men and a woman inside, most carrying a weapon on their hip or tucked into their jeans from what you could tell.

And smack in the center of the room tied to a chair was Owen very much still alive. Although…alive was being generous. He didn’t look more injured than when you’d last seen him but his color was off and his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn’t even angry when he saw you, just…scared.

“He behave while I was gone?” asked Russell to a man and woman nearby.

“Tried bribing Doug and then all of us to let him go,” said the woman. She gave Owen a nasty look before turning gentle as she looked towards Russell. “I think you scared the poor boy, Shaw.”

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?” said Russell, giving Owen a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So. Owen, my friends. Friends, Owen. You’re already acquainted with Y/N.”

Owen’s gaze flickered to you when Russell grabbed a chair from the wall and sat it a few feet away from Owen, facing him. Russell sat down slowly, nodding when you moved closer so you could see both their faces.

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

“On me, big guy,” said Russell, snapping his fingers, Owen reluctantly looking at him. “You got some options. Prison. You die very quickly. Or…me and my friends can make sure you die very slowly. Your choice.”

“Why didn’t you kill him yet?” you asked again. Russell sighed, glancing down. “Russell.”

“There were some things that never sat right with me that I wanted answers to. The stuff with your family’s accident and your dad’s paranoia, him attacking you. I had a paranoid father too. I know the signs, know that they want to protect us in their own way. The coincidence of meeting someone just like me was too high so I started to dig. You mentioned Owen’s drugged you a few times in the past and tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I’m not following,” you said. Russell stood slowly, staring down Owen like a predator with it’s prey firmly caught in a trap.

“I figured if he drugged you, who else had he slipped something to? What good man, good doctor, could a prescription drug running family slip into his drinks? The more I researched, the more my friends helped, the more we found.” Russell clenched his fists by his side, knuckles turning white. “Should I tell her Owen? Or do you have the balls to tell her yourself?”

Russell ripped off the tape over his mouth, Owen wincing as he breathed deeply. Russell was on him like that, grabbing his throat, not squeezing but adding enough pressure that it was going to be uncomfortable. “I told you to talk, you sack of shit.”

“Y/N, this guys is lying. I never did anything to you!” Russell’s jaw clenched and you watched him squeeze, only backing off when you laid a gentle hand on Russell’s shoulder. 

“He’s psycho!” said Owen, Russell backing up a step. You looked up to him, Russell’s face unreadable. “Y/N, baby-”

“Shut the fuck up before I stab you in your spine,” you said. Owen’s jaw snapped shut, a flicker of something in Russell’s eyes. Pride? Amusement? It quickly flittered away, replaced with worry when you held out a hand. “Can I have your knife?”

Russell slowly took it out of his pocket, handing the engraved handle out to you. You flicked it open and took a seat in the chair, holding it pointed down at the concrete floor.

“Owen. Tell me the truth and I won’t kill you. I swear. But I can get the answers from you if you don’t cooperate. Don’t make me get my boyfriend’s knife bloody.”

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Our old fixer wanted out, wanted to go to the feds so my dad had him killed. I was eighteen and he told me to start earning my place as successor. He told me to find a new fixer. Your dad was one of the best doctors in the city. Things were…arranged. Two weeks later we-” 

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

“Two weeks later I…put a hit on your family. Your mom and brother specifically. We only needed one kid to survive and I thought a girl would be easier to control. I started drugging your father that night with antipsychotics to create paranoia,” said Owen, his head hanging low. “I orchestrated the whole thing. We fed him the drugs for years, it made him stay close if not a little extreme. It kept taking more though.”

“Do. Not. Skip. Ahead,” growled Russell, grabbing a fistful of Owen’s shirt.

“O-okay. I-I…I started thinking about how to get your dad to stick around once you grew up and you were pretty and smart and I thought you’d be happy with me.”

“How old was she when you decided this?” barked Russell. Owen whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. “Fifteen you disgusting waste of space.”

“You started drugging me then,” you said. Owen shook his head.

“Not with that stuff. Just roofies. But not enough for you to be completely out of it. Your dad started keeping a closer eye on you and I tried waiting for you to come around on your own but it was so hard when you went away to college. I knew I couldn’t let you run off like that again so…” Owen’s shoulders shook, mouth snapping shut.

“So you roofied her, attacked her and she fought back. Her father protected her and you fucking killed him for it. Your dear old daddy found what you’d done and wasn’t happy, was he? He covered up your murder and blamed her father knowing Y/N wouldn’t remember a thing. Y/N was forced to go to med school and learn crap she didn’t want to all while daddy had you banished away from her. You tried to keep tabs on her but it wasn’t until dad died that you could finally take Y/N like you wanted. It’s pure fucking luck I showed up when I did to make sure that didn’t happen. Would you like to tell Y/N about the fucking padded door locks and bars on the window in her old room back at the house? About your plans for her?”

Russell grabbed Owen’s hair, forcing his head up. Owen was trembling, whispering apologies and saying how he didn’t mean it, over and over.

“So…you killed my family…and tried to assault me more than once over the years…and were planning on keeping me as a…pet in the house until I magically fell in love with you. I think that sums it up,” you said. You stood up, handing Russell his knife. “I’m not going to kill him.”

“Thank you,” sighed Owen in relief. “Thank you. I-I knew you’d be able to forgive me-”

“Oh, I don’t forgive you and I wouldn’t be thanking me,” you said, smiling up at Russell. ““Papa Elpine and a few guys made it out I heard. Bobby was his favorite son, right?”

“Y/N! I killed Bobby! They’ll-” Russell shoved some tape over his mouth and hummed.

You crossed your arms, Russell tilting his head at you. “You know they’re going to torture Owen to death.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him and I’m keeping my word,” you said, Owen shouting under the tape. “I’d tell you to confess but Elpine’s connected. He’d just have you killed in prison. So. Elpine it is.”

“You sure?” asked Russell. You pursed your lips, Owen pleading with his eyes. Everything in you wanted to say yes, let him get what he had coming. 

So why couldn’t you say it? 

You looked to Russell, nodding. “Get rid of him, please,” you mouthed.

“Look away,” said Russell. You turned around, Owen panting hard before there was a loud crack and the room was still. Russell’s hand found your shoulder, rubbing it softly. “We took care of Elpine’s guys. You know that.”

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

“I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years. Best I came up with is you got to try and let it go. The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, walking you towards the door. You nearly looked back but he blocked you with his body. “No. He’s gone for good, you don’t need to give him anything more. I’m sorry for not killing him back in Washington. I just thought you deserved the truth. Your dad was a good man.”

“Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I wish I realized that sooner.”

“Come on,” he said, walking you out to the hallway. “Let’s get you home.”

One Month Later

You smiled from your chair when Russell let out a single tiny snore from the couch across from you. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days and honestly, it was kind of adorable the way this incredibly dangerous man made the cutest cooing noises while he slept.

“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes a few minutes later. You looked around, holding up a finger. “I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

“Well, you make these cute sounds when you sleep,” you said. He smirked, slowly flicking his lazy eyes open.

“And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been sleeping, hm?” You shrugged and slid down in your chair with your book, grinning behind the pages. “I can see that smile, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me for the amazing orgasms you give,” you said, flicking your eyes over the top of the book, Russell propping himself up on his elbows with a predatory gaze. “Down boy. Later.”

“You better,” he said, plopping back with a huff. “Remind me to never help Frank with a favor ever again.”

“Frank helped you with Owen,” you reminded him. Russell scoffed.

“All he did with Owen was stand there and look scary. I didn’t make him build a fucking deck in the pacific northwest in forty degree weather.”

“Aw, is baby boy cranky?” you teased. He growled, playfully tossing his pillow at you. “You guys should wrap up tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan. Then I’m going back to waking up at a humane hour,” he said, forcing himself to sit up and stretch out with a few grunts. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You needed it,” you said, flipping a page. Russell glanced over to the dining table, taking in the decorated spread. 

“You set a place for Colter?” he asked. 

“Yes…right next to Dory’s,” you said, closing your book and setting it aside. “You still think he won’t come?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to come to a housewarming party. Especially his brother’s housewarming party. We still haven’t talked since…” 

“I know,” you said, standing and pulling him to his feet. He was still sleepy as you ruffled his hair, Russell turning into the touch. “I’m excited to meet your friends and family properly.”

“They want to know all about you, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “You can’t imagine the amount of shit they’ve given me after I said I’d never settle down.”

“I moved in a week ago. We’re a ways from settling down,” you said. He titled his head, smiling at you. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” he teased, leaning in close, dipping his head, kissing under your jaw.

“Shaw! Do not give me a hickey! I do not want them seeing-” You sucked in a breath, brain going fuzzy when he nipped at the soft flesh. 

“Too bad, qark. If I have to have hickeys all over my neck then so do you,” he said, suckling the skin. A buzzer went off in the kitchen and he groaned when you slipped away so the rolls wouldn’t burn. “Y/N…”

“Saved by the bell,” you said, taking out the pan and leaving them to cool off. Russell was by your side quickly, hands on your hips so you couldn’t escape. “Okay. How about you can give me as many hickeys as you want later if you’re a good boy this afternoon?”

“Hm, I do like being your good boy,” he said, squeezing your hips. “Deal.”

“Good. Where do you keep-“

The doorbell trilled, your heads turning towards the front windows. A familiar pickup truck was out front, Russell raising his eyebrows. You nodded for the door, Russell cautious as he answered. Colter stood on the front porch with an awkward forced smile and a pink box.

“I uh, picked up some dessert for dinner later,” he said offering the box. Russell took it, setting it aside on the front table. “You going to invite me in?”

“I thought you…” Russell shook his head and opened the door wider, letting his younger brother inside. Colter gave you a brief smile before clearing his throat.

“I uh, can help you get ready or cook. I just…last time we talked Russell…”

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

“Yeah,” said Colter, returning it for a moment before the boys broke apart. “How’s the girlfriend situation working out for you?”

“I’m telling you man, find the right girl, you’ll never want to go back to being a loner,” said Russell, giving you a smirk. “They do come with a lot of rules though, fair warning.”

“I asked you to put the toilet seat down, Shaw,” you chided. 

“Like I said, rules,” teased Russell. You picked up a knife by your cutting board, narrowing your eyes. “We should help before she starts using that on us.”

“Yes you should,” you said, Colter shrugging out of his jacket and boots, joining your side after washing up. “Can you cut up the veggies into strips?”

“Can do,” he said, swapping places with you. You smiled when Russell took the dessert box and started to arrange the treats on a platter over on the dinning table. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the last time we were all here.”

You frowned as you peeled a bag of potatoes into a bowl. “You mean when I lost my cool on Russell? You have nothing to apologize for Colter. We were asking you for a favor. Again. I’m honestly surprised you don’t hate me. I know you value your alone time.”

Colter was quiet, chopping neatly and pushing the scraps into a discard bowl. “Did Russell ever tell you how he got that gunshot he went to you for in the first place?”

“Someone kidnapped Doug. He went to save him.”

“Did you know I helped him with that?” You shook your head, setting the peeler down. Colter had stopped dicing, a barely there smile crossing his face. “If it weren’t for my brother asking for my help with his friends, I’m not sure we ever would have spoke again.”

“I know there’s a complicated history there.” He hummed, watching Russell across the room. “It means a lot to him that you’re trying too.”

“S’all we can do is try, right?” he said, going back to his cutting. “So. My brother is clearly head over heels. What about you? Should I expect a wedding invitation soon?”

“Uh, no,” you said, laughing to yourself. “We’re certainly not traditional but we’re nowhere near ready for that. We’ll see how living together goes for awhile before we talk about anything like long term plans.”

“Yet you moved in already.” You rolled your eyes. “Just an observation.”

“For convenience sake. Russ is looking into land for the brewery around here since he left his job and apartments in town are limited.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s it. Silly me,” he said. You held up your peeler to him, Colter raising his hands. “Russ, I think I broke one of your girlfriend’s rules.”

“It was nice knowing ya,” said Russell with a chuckle. “Give him a swift death for me, qark.”

“Qark?” asked Colter as you turned your attention to the potatoes. 

“Queen of darkness. Now hurry up with those so you and Russ can have some alone time before dinner.”

Six Hours Later

“This is going well,” said Russell to you in the kitchen as laughed and a smoky scent filtered in from the back porch. “Everyone really likes you.”

“I suppose I have met them all before, except for Dory. She’s such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I was expecting but-”

“She was much younger than us when our dad died. After she went to live with our aunt and uncle. She’s tough but normal in a way Colter and I won’t ever…” You rubbed his back, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Did you like, drug him? Or bribe him? I seriously can’t believe he’s still here let alone came.”

“Of course he came. No matter what’s happened in the past, he loves his big brother.” Russell tucked you into his side, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder. “I found a job in Wyoming. Missing prized show dog. I was going to head out in the morning, see if I’m any good at this.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Be safe though.”

“I will be.” You turned in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms around his back in a hug. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if I was safe. It’s nice. This weird little family you have is…I’m jealous to be honest.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s yours too.” You raised your eyebrows, Russell raising his own, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

“Me either,” you said, the tension running out of his face. “I want to know who we are without our old jobs, how to be a happy queen of darkness.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Speaking of which, I got you a present for helping organize all of this and cooking for ten people after literally just moving cross country. I know it was stressful so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need a present, Russ,” you said, a sneaky smile forming on his face. “Oh. This is a present for the both of us.”

“I got you a new pair of jammies, the lilac set this time,” he said. Russell’s smile grew as yours did, his arms lifting you off the ground, bringing you to eye level. “You deserve all the good things in life, qark.”

“I think we got something pretty good starting right here,” you said, kissing him once, Russell humming.

“I couldn’t agree more, baby. Couldn’t agree more.”

__________

[rebelliousstories]

Tidings

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Mentions of Death of Family, Inappropriate Behavior Towards Women, Brief Fighting

Word Count: 2,341

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: A snowy night. A warm diner. A hot meal. And a reluctant helper.

Consider Donating: Here

Logan was, once again, driving back to the mansion from Canada. He had gone off about two months earlier, and truly meant to be back before now. The main reason being the roads. During December, the road he took from Canada to upstate New York became icy and dangerous. That is why he tried to make his journey back in November, at the latest.

But he got held up. Not for any good, particular reason. He enjoyed staying in the wilderness with his truck. Out there, he could just be. No one truing to tell him what to do, or dampen the animal that had been created. As he tried to piece his life back together, the wilderness called to him with its peace. The drawback was that sometimes he got lost in it, wishing to be that peaceful all the time, leaving him having to make the journey in the beginning of December when the road was most dangerous.

Although, Logan was not even sure if he could die if he managed to flip his truck on the incredibly icy roads. But he would prefer not to damage it this close to making it back to the school. Low rumbling brought him out of his own thoughts, breaking the zen he found in driving. There was not anything resembling civilization for the last twenty or so miles, but he needed to eat. Groaning, Logan kept trucking along, keeping his eyes out for someplace that would be open in this weather.

Dim lights shone ahead of where the mutant was on the road. A little diner, it seemed, was just off the highway in a little corner of the road; almost like it was on the shoulder. The closer he got, the more Logan’s stomach was growling. Lights inside were on as well as a neon open sign. There was only one other car in the lot when he pulled in that he assumed belonged to whomever worked there.

While he tried to make his way inside, a gust of wind blew against him, sending snow directly into his back. The wind managed to blow the front door wide open, and a young woman rushed out to close it to no avail. Logan finally made his way over there, and shut the door for her.

“Thank you, mister. Damn door always gives me trouble this time of year. Come on in.” He followed after her, and basked in the warmth of the little restaurant inside.

Christmas decorations were hung around the dining room, complete with a little tree in the corner. Twinkling lights made the room sparkle as they reflected off of all the glitter decorations that were hung. A beautiful smell of spices and citrus made the area even more cozy. Sitting down at the bar, Logan realized that she was wearing an adorable little Christmas sweater.

“So, what can I get you stranger?” She came back around, with a little pad of paper and a cute Christmas pen.

“You got sausage?” He grumbled, letting his eyes trace over the menu in his hands.

“Let me guess, you want something high protein, with a little thing of carbs on the side? Eggs scrambled. Sausage patties, not links. Wheat toast with plenty of butter, and a black coffee?”

“How did you-” she cut him off.

“I’ve been doing this long enough to know. I’ll get that made up for you.” Disappearing into the back, she went to work making his food. This allowed plenty of time for Logan to look at the pictures near the register that were framed.

Different children with beaming smiles, next to their parents or older siblings with matching grins. Families, or big groups made up a couple of the pictures. A particular framed photograph caught his attention. It was the woman that was serving him with an older gentleman, arms wrapped around each other. He held a proud smile on his face while she was just ecstatic. Logan had to assume that was her father, but from that point on he could not pinpoint what was going on in the still.

Sounds of loud trucks rumbling and honking drew his attention to the door. Before anyone knew, a pack of young men were whooping and hollering, cackling and talking so loud like they were the only people in the world, came into the once peaceful diner. Logan just turned his head back to the counter ahead of him while trying not to tell all of them to be quiet in the nastiest way possible.

These boys had disturbed his peace and were not stopping anytime soon. However, the worst of it was the reaction that his waitress had when she came back with his food. The fear on her face was evident as she looked to who he could only assume was the ringleader of the pack. Keeping her gaze low, she put his plates down in front of the big man, before turning around to grab a mug and coffee pot.

“Hey, sweetheart. How about you come over here already? We’ve been waiting for like an hour.” A gruff voice called, to which she only raised her eyes towards.

“Be right there,” came a small squeak from her lips.

She scurried off, taking her notepad and pen with her, and leaving the man that was at the bar. Just because Logan was not looking towards the group behind him, did not mean that he was not paying attention. A wonderful side effect of his mutation being enhanced senses meant that he could at least keep his ears on alert while appearing nonchalant.

Demands flowed out of the mouths of these men as she tried desperately to keep up with their orders. If they were not demanding things from her, they were making the crassest comments they could muster. Nothing that out of ordinary from the places that Logan usually hung out in; but that seemed out of character for such a quaint place.

The woman was kept busy as the men shouted out different orders. She still managed to refill Logan’s coffee, and even get him another round of toast and sausage. Undoubtedly though, her attention was monopolized by the group of men. Logan tried to keep to himself during the whole ordeal, but even he has his limits.

“Sweetheart, need a refill over here.” Someone who was the ringleader, Logan assumed. She brought her coffee pot around to refill their mugs. As she did, the same man placed his hand on her waist causing her to tense up and freeze. The mutant could smell the fear coming off of her in thick waves.

“Please take your hand off of me.” Her whimper made him want to draw his claws.

“Aww hell darling. We’re just having fun here.” A smack sounded through the room, causing the rest of the men around them to erupt in laughter.

“She said hands off, bub.” Their laughter died down once the gruff voice had broken through. His back was still turned, but he was glaring over his shoulder.

“Ain’t no reason to get yourself involved. This is a private matter, bub.” Another round of laughter, but he was not having any of it. Taking his last swig of coffee, who’s only purpose was to keep the chill away for him, Logan jumped off of his seat and let his boots thud their way over to where the young lady was in the pack of wolves.

Not saying a word, Logan ripped the man’s hand off of her, but gently pushed her behind him. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the leader decided to take a swig on him. However, when that fist connected with his adimantium jaw, he quickly realized his mistake. He was screaming in pain and hold his hand to his chest while looking towards Logan with wide eyes. But the mutant was not done yet. Grabbing the man by the lapels of his jacket, he delivered a swift headbutt which left him a bit dazed.

“Now apologize,” came Logan’s demand, once he shook the man into place in front of the woman. He was trying to form a coherent sentence when Logan shook him again.

“Ah! Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, get him to stop.” In the midst of the whimpering, a Wolverine growl caused the men to dispense the money in their wallets on the table. Once they seemed properly terrified of the man in front of them, he opened the front door, and chucked the ringleader out into the snow. The rest of his lackeys followed shortly after, leaving the restaurant quite once more.

Logan used some force to try and shut the door that seemed determined to stay open with the violent winds outside. Once back inside, he looked to the woman that was still a bit stunned from the events that had transpired. She did not look afraid of him, but rather in awe. It was not a reaction that he was used to.

“You okay?” The low grumble of his voice brought her out of her trance.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. That was, um, that was really nice. What you did. Those guys have been bothering me for years,” she rambled, unable to help herself.

“And it looks like you got a pretty good payday out of it.” Their attention was drawn back to the table that was left in a state of disarray.

Half eaten food, and drinks covered the surface, but all that green that was worth it. She started shoving the money into her apron pockets unceremoniously, more intent on getting the table clear. Before her hands could touch a single plate or cup, Logan’s larger hands beat her to it.

“Just tell me where to put it.” She smiled and led him back to the kitchen where she was finally able to help scrap off the food.

They continued like this for a few minutes, having to make multiple trips back and forth. An unusual silence encompassed them, yet, it was not uncomfortable. Simply that each one had thoughts running far too fast to allow themselves conversation.

How a random woman, on some random road, at some random diner, was having Logan clean up someone else’s mess was beyond him. He normally stayed away from people. He was a lone wolf. Logan did not help out where he could for a reason he did not understand, for a reward he would never receive. Or rather, a reward that was not going to be monetary.

“Thank you, again. It’s always such a pain getting those guys handled.” She spoke, wiping down the table once Logan was returned to his spot at the bar.

“No problem. They won’t be coming back anytime soon.” He grumbled, simply enjoying the company.

“Let’s hope. I wish I could have them trespassed, but the big man that you chucked out, Jason, his dad is the sheriff. He’ll just say that it’s boys being boys.” Her lament was paused due to her taking a sip of her hot chocolate that she had made.

‘I’ll pass by here soon and make sure for you.’ Logan thought to himself, trying hard to stare at her beautiful, doe-like eyes.

“I’d appreciate that.” Oh no, he had said that aloud. With a groan, he rubbed his face. Only her giggles let him know that even she had caught him.

“How close are we to Weschester County?”

“New York? About ten or so miles. Got a date,” she teased, causing Logan to smirk just a bit.

“Going to see some old… friends.” The proper name for the people at the school had not crossed his mind yet.

“Sounds about right. Going to be with your people for the holidays. Well, have fun with that. If you ever want a hot meal or to save my diner from catastrophe, you know where to find me.” The slight depressed lit to her voice did not surpass Logan’s sensibilities.

“You got any plans for the holidays?” Seriously, what was happening to him?

“Nah. Parents are both dead. No siblings either. Plus, this place takes so much of my time, it’s hard to have friends. So, I’ll just stay at home until I open for dinner. I usually get a few lone truckers on holidays that can’t make it back to their families.” Her sad smile tugged at Logan’s heartstrings.

Before he could stop himself he offered, “can I come by tomorrow, then?”

Her eyes widened just a bit as she took in his words. Somehow this random man had managed to sneak his way in, and made her blush with a few simple words. Hiding her smile behind another sip of her cocoa, she replied into the steaming mug, ”of course.”

Logan smiled right back at her as she raised her face from its hiding place. His body must have been running on autopilot, because his hand reached across the counter to wipe at her own face. A small line of foam had accumulated above her lips which he removed with a delicate swipe of his thumb. The rest of his fingers rested along her jaw which kept them locked together even with nothing binding them.

With the wind still blowing something furious when Logan went to, reluctantly, leave the diner. But he needed to get to the school. He had promised Rogue that he would be back in time. As she began to close the door behind him with the force necessary, she called out to him.

“Maybe you could give me your name next time?” An impish smirk found itself on her face.

“How else am I gonna keep you interested,” he shot back, opening the truck door.

“Good tidings, stranger.” The diner door was shut, and he just watched her for another few moments. She cleaned up their mugs, but it was obvious that she was distracted as she did. Her smile never left her face either, but Logan assumed his own did the same.

Good tidings, indeed.

[vaggieslefteye]

Alastor's facial expression journey as he says: "Almost makes one sentimental."

Interesting details: -The old radio effect on his voice clears up significantly as he says the words "almost makes." -The use of "one" as the subject of his sentence instead of "me." -Closing his eyes. Alastor decidedly does not look at this group of people while saying this line in particular, despite gazing fondly at them at the start. -Shaking his head. Alastor shakes his head a total of three times as he says the word "sentimental." Shaking one's head side-to-side is considered the universal gesture for no. -This entire moment happens in just over 2 seconds. (Not all frames of the animation are shown here) It's very blink-and-you'll-miss-it.

Of course I have my ideas as to what this could mean. However, attempting to truly prove anything via reading body language in fiction and/or real life is always a lost cause, given that it's pseudoscience and you can never know anything for sure with that information alone. So these are guesses based on what his body language may be suggesting given what we know of his personality, his history with the hotel gang, and the given context of this scene.

I can say this with confidence, though: I think something stirred in him here, and we're very lucky as the audience to have witnessed it.

Everyone during this "last night alive" scene is, in some way, acting with the idea that some or all of them will be dead the next morning. So there's a good chance for emotional provocation. It seems like not even Alastor is immune to it. Has he had these thoughts about getting attached to the group for an amount of time before this scene? Did it hit him right then and there? There's no way to tell. But either way, I think physically talking about it out loud can be a way for him to control it. He can acknowledge that the idea and possibility is there and real, but at the same time insist that it won't apply to him, even though it could.

And yet, it seems he can't look directly at them while acknowledging this hypothetical sentiment. Sometimes we as humans avert our eyes or shut them completely from things that cause discomfort. He also can't quite commit to saying "Almost makes me sentimental. / I admit, I could get accustomed..." and instead puts the burden of this scenario on "one," or, a person just in general. That's interesting. And shaking his head could mean a lot of different things: Is it to release tension? Is it him unconsciously emphasizing the "almost" in his statement, like saying almost, but not quite? Or in that same vein, trying to literally shake the idea of becoming sentimental off of his mind? Multiple of these? Who knows.

As for his voice becoming clearer... When asked during a Q and A if Alastor loses the static in his voice when he's being more honest/genuine, Medrano answered: "That's something I can't reveal. Obviously, that's a big tell." I guess the answer will come with time :)

With all that being said, I don't think these feelings he may be having here are that significant to him. At the end of the day, he's still egocentric as ever and, more than anything, wants his freedom from his deal and to be "pulling all the strings." Friendship with this group is simply a low priority or petty distraction to him at best, and something that could actively get in the way of these goals at worst. If anything, this scene served to plant a seed and provide crucial context for both the ambiguity of his feelings toward the hotel gang in general and for his verse in the song Finale - as well as provide setup for the next few seasons. Either way, it looks like he doesn't want to become attached to them and won't let himself, either.

IF there is sentiment present, this moment here is his attempt to nip it in the bud. Only time will tell whether he was successful or not.

[theresattrpgforthat]

I know you've done a game recommendations post about lighthearted solo games, but do you have any suggestions for someone's first solo ttrpg/journaling game?

THEME: First-Time Solo Games!

Hello friend! I sure do have some recommendations! Many of the games I present here are representative of a larger type, so you might be able to find other games within that category by browsing the related tags on itch.io. Most of the games require dice, and many of the games require decks of cards. Other than that, you shouldn’t need anything too fancy or elaborate to play these kinds of games!

The Sky City Charade, by Ashley Morgan’s Games.

Elysia. Midtown. Someone rich was murdered. And you, a private detective from the lowest reaches of Sky City, have been tasked to find out why.

This is a solo journalling game based on the Hints and Hijinx system from Pandion Games. Create a character and navigate through a cyberpunk city stretching into the heavens, dealing with whatever it throws at you.

Using polyhedral dice, a deck of cards, something to journal with, and your own imagination, see if you can bring this case to a satisfying close by actually solving it and finding out who is behind this mysterious crime, and why you were asked to solve it.

Hints and Hijinx games use a pack of cards and a deteriorating dice mechanic to generate a story. In The Sky City Charade, you’ll assign your two highest dice (a d10 and a d12) to two stats: Smarts & Tough. Every roll you make in an effort to find a clue has a chance of giving you what you’re looking for, but also a chance of making future rolls harder. The game is divided into three phases: Setup, Investigation, and Closure. You’ll spend most of your time in the Investigation phase, visiting locations and drawing cards to determine what kind of complications arise in your efforts to solve the mystery.

What I like about this kind of game is the structure. There’s clear instructions for each section of play, and the deteriorating dice mechanic ensures that you both think carefully about when to look for clues and also finish play within a reasonable time frame. I also enjoy the thoughtful world building that went into the location creation for this game; the author knows what kind of world they want to present you with, and they deliver.

If you want more games of this system, I’d recommend checking out the Hints and Hijinx Jam!

Beast at Bay, by Ive Sorocuk.

You arrive back in your hometown.The journey was long.You have little memory of it but you do recall being attacked by some form of beast. A beast you can still feel deep within you, wanting to get out.

Beast at Bay is a solo rpg/journaling game that uses the Second Guess System. It’s a pretty simple game, only one page long, with a Humanity tracker and a list of 20 prompts. You roll a d20 and answer a question from the prompt list, adjusting the Humanity tracker as needed.

The Second Guess System thrives on re-rolls, and frames rolling the same prompt twice as a chance to examine your character’s uncertainty - was their original answer truly what was going on, or is there something hidden, possibly even from themself? In Beast at Bay, every time you must re-examine a question, you will need to roll a d6 to determine whether you lose Humanity. The game ends when you either reach 6 or fall to 0. If you like quick-to-read games that can be played in approximately 30 minutes, then I’d recommend checking out this game.

You can find other Second Guess Games in the Second Guess Jam!

Weeds in the Waste, by Meghan Cross.

Weeds in the Waste is a solo storytelling game about tending a garden in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

Determine the state of your wasteland, create your gardener, plant your seeds, and tend your garden as you play through the seasons in the wastes. It is a narrative, storytelling game played using 2d6s and a 6x6 grid, as well as a series of prompts. 

Grid-based games give you visual references that can help you visualize what is going on in your game world. They also give you a chance to strategize a little bit, especially if the dice you’re rolling will affect the map, like in this game. Despite the fact that this game happens in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, I still feel like some part of it is a cozy game. You’re not saving the world or fighting your inner darkness in Weeds in the Waste; you’re growing plants and striving to make your garden a place of hope. Much of the prompts provided are aimed at building up the world around you, whether that be weather events, celebrations, or the kinds of plants you are attempting to grow.

If you like games with lower stakes and visual references, I recommend this game. If you want other grid-based games with different themes, I’d recommend Wonderfall, by Catscratcher Studio, and Exclusion Zone Botanist, by Exuent Press.

Anamnesis, by Sam Leigh, Blinking Birch Games.

Anamnesis is a 24-page solo journaling RPG about self-discovery, reflection, and identity.

You play as an individual who has woken up with memory loss. You do not remember who you are, where you are, or what you care about. As you draw tarot cards, you fill the blank spaces of your past and learn more about your present. All that is needed to play is a deck of tarot cards and a way to record your thoughts.

Explore your character’s backstory through five acts, divided up using the four suits and major arcana of a tarot deck. This game is highly interpretive, giving you prompts to answer but depending upon your interpretation of tarot cards in order to determine the kinds of details that you’ll end up filling out. The fact that it uses a tarot deck may be it’s biggest obstacle if you don’t already own a tarot deck, but if you do own a tarot deck you’ll likely already have some experience when it comes to interpreting the cards, and so I don’t know if the openness of interpretation is that much of a hurdle when it comes to playing this game.

What I do know is that Anamnesis has won several awards, and is pretty well-known in the gaming scene. There’s both digital and physical copies, and the creator offers both discounted damaged copies as well as community copies pretty regularly. There’s also an Anamnesis Jam with many other Anamnesis - inspired games for you to check out!

The Sealed Library, by Sealed Library.

The Sealed Library is a solo journaling RPG played with a deck of cards, a tumbling block tower and a notebook/scroll.

You are the sole surviving librarian of the greatest library in history. It sits in the centre of culture for an ancient land, now fallen to invaders. They pillage and raze. 

The library has been barricaded and you are under siege. What important texts can you move down into the vaults and seal away forever before the barricade breaks? What will future generations discover inside the Sealed Library?

Wretched & Alone games such as this one usually recommend a Jenga tower but I’ve found them very playable without one. All you really need is a deck of cads, a six-sided dice, and some tokens, which can be anything (I use poker chips). Personally, I think the biggest con is the tone of the games - most Wretched & Alone games are meant to be tragic or horrific. For example, in The Sealed Library, you are a librarian trying to save as much of the library as possible before invaders knock down the doors and kill you, or before you die of starvation.

These games divide events in between four categories, to match the four suits of cards. In this game, these suits represent saved books, new discoveries, invader events and dwindling resources. If the tumbling tower falls, you die. If you draw all four Kings, you die. There are a few ways for your character to escape alive, but the chances of drawing the right cards in the right order are low. What I appreciate about this game is that it includes a debrief section, allowing you to process the story you have just told yourself. If you’re interested in playing out a story that may pull you into a tragedy however, games like this one may suit you.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Untitled Moth Game, by S. Kaiya J.

Osteozee, by Psychound.

Global Dragon Egg Conservation, by KuumatheBronze.

Games from the Solo But Not Alone Bundle.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Sweets and Sours and Maggots

So, a bit more Summoned!König because he's a big sweetie. No pun intended here, because this fic is all about travelling, dancing. and chocolate. A very soft drabble with lots of bickering between Summoner and König.

TWs: None, really. Wait, mentions of maggot cheese (which is a real food)

Wordcount: 1.6K

Art from this post

Story Below the Cut

Sweets and Sours and Maggots

“So, I’m just curious,” you leaned in close as König looked at you skeptically, “what does the other realm look like?”

König relaxed as he raised one hand, “Well, it’s much like this realm in most regards, thankfully.”

“Is it?” you quirked your head to the side.

“Well, except for the fast that the colours are beyond your human comprehension,” König finished, “and surfaces are usually inverted. Oh, and I suppose the strange echoing and the ever present sense of dread and despair can be a bit much to bear sometimes. The feeling of how small you are in comparison to the rest of existence is constantly on your mind. It’s inescapable. It’s a rather psychological realm, if you will. Much less tangible than this reality.”

You blinked, “That’s not like this realm at all.”

“Oh and I suppose there is the strange phenomena where darkness is light, and light is dark,” König continued, “and how the wind feels like a vacuum. It’s a bit strange, I suppose, when your only frame of reference is this existence.”

“And is the sky orange?” you drawled.

König stared at you, “How in the stars did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you groused as you slumped into your chair, “so I’m guessing that the other realm is ‘beyond my mortal comprehension’, right?”

“You’d be correct in that assumption,” König quipped.

“So you’re never taking me there?” you sighed.

“I’m not particularly interested in collecting the shards of your bones across time, no. Why?” König leaned his chin onto his palm.

You shrugged, “I’m bored. I kinda wanna go somewhere but I don’t know where. You know that feeling?”

“Always,” König laughed, “I suppose you’re starting to understand what it feels like to be a creature controlled by the throes of chaos, yes?”

“My mom always called me a chaotic monkey,” you grumbled.

“Then maybe you have always had an affliction,” König offered, “but either way, you want to go somewhere? Somewhere other than here?”

“Anywhere,” you lay your head in your arms, folded messily over the table.

“Anywhere where you won’t drop dead of poison, implode and/or explode, freeze to death or be instantly incinerated, I’m assuming?” König checked.

You glared at him, “I don’t wanna die today.”

“I figured would ensure proper clarification,” König sniffed, “no matters, Summoner, I ask if you are interested in accompanying me on a journey?”

You perked up immediately, “Where to?”

“Well, I’m interested in retrieving a gift for my mother, and I figured a small little trip would do us well,” König took to his feet to stretch his long body out.

“Hold up,” you held up a hand, “you have a mom!?”

“Yes?” König turned to stare at you, “don’t you?”

“Yeah but like, I’m human,” you pointed out.

“Once I hatched I was raised by my mother,” König spoke slowly, almost as though he was worried he might break your mortal mind, “much like you were, no? She fed me from her breasts and raised me to be the being I am today.”

“So you’re saying there’s more things like you?” you asked bluntly.

König gasped and grasped at his chest, “Things like me! You do wound me, summoner! Gravely so!”

“Well I don’t know what you are! You’re just… I dunno,” you shrugged pathetically, “an avatar of chaos?”

“I’m a [REDACTED FOR READER’S SANITY], don’t you know?”

Once your head stopped hurting and the images had stopped flashing behind your eyes, you were able to shake yourself off and give König a proper glare.

“You did that on purpose,” you grumbled.

“I had a point to get across,” König replied.

“Okay but did you actually,” you grumped.

König closed his eyes and offered you a blithe shrug, “It was effective, so I believe so yes.”

“You’re literally the worst.”

“And yet still you hold a place for me in your heart,” König sang, “which I do appreciate, Summoner.”

“I hate you.”

“And yet your heart says otherwise,” König walked over to pull you to your feet, “now Summoner, tell me, are you not interested in going on an adventure together? Somewhere fun?”

“Your idea of fun is mentally scarring me on a Saturday afternoon at,” you checked your watch, “three-thirty in the afternoon. So, I’m gonna ask you again, is this really fun for both of us?”

“I do believe so,” König laughed as he twirled you in his arms, “I have an idea in mind. My mother has always been fascinated by human delicacies, and so I thought I might find some to bring back to her. What are your thoughts on accompanying me on this little quest, so to say?”

“What sorts of things would you be bringing her?” you asked as he turned you to face him.

“Well,” König took your hips in his claws and swayed you both from side to side, “I have heard some fascinating things from around this realm. I’ve heard of this fermented shark up in Greenland, but there’s also something called casu martzu from Sardinia, a little island off of Italy.”

“Um, what’s casu martzu?” you asked with a laugh.

“Maggot cheese, I believe it’s also known as,” König explained, laughing at how you scrunched your face.

“Do you think she’d like that?” you held back a gag.

“Well, do you have any better ideas for sweets?” König asked as he danced you around the room.

You looked at him carefully.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No?”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“This is no joking matter, Summoner. Finding the finest sweets to bring back to my mother is of great interest to me.”

“König,” you sighed as you followed König’s steps, “you ate my chocolate, right?”

König leaned back, “I had thought you’d forgotten about that incident…”

“That was my period chocolate, König,” you bit back a snarky remark, “I’m not going to forget that so easily,” you held up a finger to his ‘lips’ (you suspected them to be a beak) and shushed him, “look, did you think the chocolate was what you’d call ‘sweet’?”

König nodded enthusiastically, “Very much so! It was delicious! It was absolutely superb! But of course, such a wondrous treat must be extremely rare, no?”

“I mean, yeah, I had that imported from Switzerland,” you admitted bitterly, “so it wasn’t like any regular old chocolate, but chocolate isn’t too hard to find.”

“Are you implying that I’m overthinking my gift?” König asked suspiciously as he dropped you into a dip, pulling you up just as easily.

“I’m implying that maybe you’re not choosing foods humans would usually consider ‘sweet’,” you explained gently.

König seemed a tad crestfallen, but was quick to recover, “Then why not go and get her some chocolate? Surely if it is as you say, it must be easy to get some of the best to bring back to my mother.”

“Well, I think we’d need to go pretty far to be able to get some,” you explained sadly, “the stuff on base is pretty shit.”

“Then let’s go to this… What did you call it… This Switzerland place!” König crowed, “it mustn't be too far from us.”

“König it’s an ocean away,” you drawled as you smoothly followed his steps around the room, taking a moment to twirl before facing him again, “and no we can’t just go get on a plane right now.”

“Why would we need a plane?” König snorted.

“How else would we get there,” you laughed before stilling, “König you’re not gonna teleport me there.”

“I think you’re being rather small minded right now,” König huffed.

“König I saw what happened to the cookies and the pizza,” you warned him slowly, “I don’t want to be killed by trying to travel through whatever magic thing you use to get around.”

“I think you’ll find I’ve improved my skills,” König sniffed.

“I don’t want to TEST-”

You were cut off by a loud VWOOSH as your world was encompassed by an inky darkness. You felt upside down, right side up and sideways all at once as a flurry of temperatures barraged against your skin. You clenched your eyes tight for fear of them being ripped from your skull. It grew hotter, hotter and hotter as you clenched your hands around König’s middle, holding as tightly as you could against the flurry of winds that threatened to tear you apart. You let out a scream, but it was completely drowned out by the raging winds and the vacuum of space around you.

Just as you ran out of breath, you stumbled to your feet. You carefully opened your eyes to find yourself in a small village square, dancing in König’s arms once again.

“König?” you asked carefully.

“Yes, Summoner?”

“Are we in Switzerland right now?”

König chuckled, “Well I’m glad your mind didn’t get scrambled by the journey.”

“You nearly did what to me!?”

“Hush, Summoner,” König held you in close, “just be happy you’re in one piece. Anyways, I never would have let such harm come to such a precious part of my life.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you rolled your eyes, but relaxed into König’s arms.

“As you should,” König pecked you (quite literally) on the forehead.

“Ow!” you swatted his chest, “you need to stop doing that.”

“What, kissing you?”

“Pecking me!”

“Ah,” the bones under König’s hood cracked and pulled briefly before settling into a new place. He leaned down again to kiss your forehead, this time with chapped lips behind his mask.

“Thank you,” you smiled before reaching up to kiss his chin.

“Anyways,” König drew you both to a stop, “shall we get Mama some chocolates?”

“Mama?”

“My mother,” König chuckled, “did you forget why we came here?”

You tucked your face into his dark robes, “Of course not. I just didn’t expect you to call your mother ‘Mama’.”

“Mama means everything to me,” König stepped back to take your hands, “now, there should be a chocolate shop nearby. How about we go and get her something sweet?”

You stepped to stand by his side with a smile.

“Sure,” you agreed, “let’s go.”

AU Masterlist

[completeoveranalysis]

[7]

I- 

APPARENTLY THERE IS ANOTHER THING. Now Clow Reed has traded his life as a price to pay for Syaoran’s. 

WHICH IS ALL VERY WELL AND GOOD BUT MY GOD HE IS SKATING BY ON A TECHNICALITY THERE. More Cardcaptor Sakura spoilers in this post.

Like YES ok he isn’t alive but he didn’t ‘die’ in the traditional sense, and there are two half Clow Reeds walking around alive right this very moment, BUT apparently that is still enough of a price! HE, the original, the Full Clow Reed Experience, is still "current status: not alive", so that looks like it’s enough of a price. 

I suppose his magic itself is also listed as a very significant part of the exchange here too, which neatly ties back into Cardcaptor Sakura yet again. There it was Running Out and this would add another reason why that's the situation they're dealing with (beyond him being dead, which is apparently not enough); he had traded the rest of it away, for Tsubasa Syaoran, so there was none left to keep everything going. Or like, there's something about Eriol in that as well, I can't remember. Eriol inherited the REST of Clow's power, but not as much of it by far, on purpose, so I guess all the missing magic was traded away.

But EVEN SO it feels like an entire universe shift inside my mind here, where we are rewriting the entire reasoning behind Clow Reed’s death into the very fabric of Tsubasa as if it was that way all along. Like, goodness, when was Cardcaptor Sakura? When did that air for my country - the year 2000? That’s over twenty years of a fact living inside my brain before redesigning the entire truth behind it now in 2024. 

Though let’s be real part of that is my fault for reading this so slowly. But still.

I was about to move on but I just also want to go back to Yuuko and add that Yuuko is paving the way for Sakura on two fronts - or switching herself out for two different Sakuras. Her spot in Existence, in the Revived-From-The-Verge-Of-Death-and-In-Between-Reality Zone was given to Super Sakura, which was originally framed as if that was the end of Yuuko already. But now we find out that WHILE that space went to Super Sakura, Yuuko kind of still exists in the world of dreams - but now she’s formally trading her life away for our clone Sakura’s life, so she can continue living once again. 

Oh and the romance of it all. Yuuko and Clow Reed being a tragic couple who couldn’t have the life together that they had in mind, passing their spots in life on to another doomed couple who now CAN have a life together. Yuuko and Clow being hyper powerful beings, willingly trading places with broken clones who didn’t naturally exist in the first place, so that they can be together and fix everything else in their stead. 

Yuuko and Clow (mostly just Clow) breaking the universe, and then passing the torch onto the couple who will fix it instead. 

And add in how involved they were in the process too! Knowing that they would trade their lives away to help these two, and then doing everything they could to help them actually get here in the end. Clow giving up his entire life to go and raise Sakura as long as he could, and Yuuko watching over and helping Syaoran and Sakura on their journey as much as possible, let alone - OH. WAIT. Clow Reed in the Clow Kingdom raising Sakura and Syaoran, while Yuuko helps raise Watanuki, yet another accidental clone person who only came into being because of mistakes they made.

The symmetry of that is wonderful. 

And even like, the framing of Yuuko’s position as the audience understands it. At the start of the story it seems like Yuuko is mostly neutral, if sympathetic, and over time it seems like she’s working towards a greater goal of saving the universe and so it suits her to watch over them. But SURPRISE she and Clow have been deeply involved in raising and supporting these two (or three) from the very beginning of their lives, working heavily behind the scenes to make deals and push people in directions that would eventually spiral around and help them get here - so that Clow and Yuuko could trade their lives away to give Sakura and Syaoran both another chance at life. 

Like OH the secret parents who stepped up and guided these kids when they had no-one else. These kids who weren’t technically born and weren’t originally meant to exist, and Clow and Yuuko stepping in and becoming the parental figures who give up absolutely everything to make sure it turns out ok for them in the end. I just really enjoy that.

[zer0pm]

Imagine Luis hugging you closely as you two navigate through the darkness of Castle Salazar. But not just because he didn’t want to lose track of you…

“Luis, what the hell are you doing?”

“One would think someone as intelligent as you would be able to tell when they’re being embraced. And by such a dashing man, I might add.”

You roll your eyes and proceed to bend your elbow back with swift force. Although you couldn’t see behind you, the contact with leather and the sound of him cursing in his native tongue was a sure satisfactory sign that you landed a perfect hit. He didn’t let go of you completely, but he did loosen his grip so that he wasn’t completely pressed against your behind. His closeness caused your cheeks to burn and you were thankful that it was dark.

The two of you found yourselves wandering warily inside the castle, having been forced to evade Saddler’s plaga-infected cultists once again. Their pursuit chased you inside a series of rooms devoid of light save for a few torches dimly lit with strange purple flames. As the torches were steadfastly stuck on the walls, it would have been difficult to navigate through the area without a reliable source of light on hand. Thankfully, on one of the side tables, you found a lantern already lit. This one burned a distinctive, eerie blue flame and like a moth, you were drawn to it, picking it up gingerly in your hand. It offered little in terms of illumination, but it was enough to help you get a grasp of your surroundings.

By then, your Spanish companion took it upon himself to attach his body to yours. His excuse, he didn’t want to lose you amidst the darkness despite the lantern offering enough light to allow some distance. He didn’t relent even as you shared this fact, creating the excuse that he didn’t want to take the chance especially as monsters could be lurking about anywhere and wanted to be ready to leap to your protection. While he had a point, if you had to guess, it was more likely that the notorious flirt just wanted to be close to you. For the moment, you let it go and moved on to lead you both through the abyss. Upon further inspection, you discovered that the two of you are in a library of sorts. One of many, as Luis candidly pointed out.

“And vastly interconnecting,” he added. In the darkness, his lips thinned into a pensive line before curving to that of delighted realization. “Actually, this place looks familiar. There should be a few hidden rooms somewhere around here. ¡Rápido! Look for a grandfather clock.”

He advises to act quickly yet the man still has his arms wrapped around your waist, restricting your movements. “You know, it’s hard to look for anything let alone move at the pace we’re going what with you holding onto me like this.”

“Hm?” The man hummed, intrigue rumbling in this throat. “How should I hold you, then?”

You scoff. This man is incorrigible. Yet as insufferable as Luis is most of the time, he is also undeniably charming. If you weren’t struggling to stay alive, you’d enjoy private moments like these with him.

As if reading your thoughts, he spoke up. “You know, if not for the certainty of danger lurking in quite literally every corner of this terrible place, this would be a rather romantic setting. Don’t you think?”

“What are you on about this time?”

“C’mon, just think.” The dark-haired man steps around to snake his arm around your shoulders and reposition his tall frame against your side. It was easier to walk this way for certain, but now you can see each other’s faces. You hope he can’t see how flushed your cheeks are. “You, me, and a single candle light. All that’s missing is fine dining with some wine and this would make a most promising night worth remembering.”

“I have a feeling that this whole journey is going to be memorable whether we like it or not,” you sigh. “So what, then? Like a date?”

Luis shrugs, “If that is what you would like it to be.”

Why can’t this guy ever be straight with you? As flirty and playful as he can be with his teasing, there are far too few instances where you can tell he’s being genuine. This is not one of those instances. And over such an intimate topic. You decided to bite the bullet and prod further.

“What would you want it to be, Luis?”

He pauses, clearly not expecting you to turn it around on him. The man twists his head to look into your eyes thoughtfully, the blue flame reflecting off his brilliant silver hues. There was a glint in his gaze that bordered on something hopeful and you wondered if you returned it. As if in doing so, it would drive from him the answer you wanted him to say. However, his lips didn’t move and although the words danced upon the tip of your tongue, you bit them back out of pride. Luis catches how your jaw moved when you clenched your teeth and opened his mouth to break the silence.

Clank!

You both freeze in place.

“What’s that sound?”

“No se-”

Clunk! Shhft!

That sounded alarmingly close. You flash the lantern towards one of the countless bookshelves and through the thin openings, you see movement on the other side. Its figure is hard to discern but the way that the light reflects off its body, you deduce that they are covered in some type of metal armor. You and Luis aren’t alone anymore. Luis squeezes your shoulder and when you turn to face him, he had his pointed finger pressed against his lips. Nodding, you two kept walking as quietly as possible while also keeping a low head and an eye on the mysterious figure walking about. It didn’t seem to notice you and you thought you were in the clear until you heard another set of heavy steel footsteps thumping on the side.

The steps grew faster towards you and out of panic, you flash the lantern that way to see what was coming. The light reveals an animated suit of armor running at you with a sword raised high. You were about to run for it until you felt a familiar hand upon your waist, keeping you in place. You struggled against Luis’ hold, stricken with horror. Just as you were about to scream at him to let you go, he takes a firm grasp of your hand that held the lantern and lifts both of your hands upward towards the armor. Your eyes flinch to a tight close, shoulders tense of what you assumed to be your impending doom…

But the steps have stopped, the limbs of the armor come to a screeching halt and you open your eyes to see this new, terrifying enemy completely stationary, as if frozen on the spot.

“Huh. That’s new.” Luis comments with intrigue evident in this voice. “A mutated variant capable of using non-organic hosts. Salazar has been busy.”

So many questions flooded into your mind but your anger took over your voice. You glare at him over your shoulder, miffed over how calm he is given that he nearly gave you a heart attack. “How about a little warning next time?”

Shhft! Shfft! Shhft!

That’s definitely not good. It sounded like you two are surrounded and while the castle is huge, the rooms in the library are packed tight with shelves and thin aisles. A step in the wrong direction would spell your end.

Luis speaks up, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

Did you have a choice? The man practically drags you by the arm, managing to sneak you both behind the cover of a book-filled aisle. The tall, thick volumes block the lantern’s light from the plagas’ view. Leading you both into a crouch, he guides you through the library. You could do nothing but follow, keeping a careful ear to the movement around you. After several careful turns, you enter another dark room and stop right before a grandfather clock. Luis takes the lantern from your hand and a rare, serious expression settles on his rugged features.

He whispers, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, what are you-”

He dashes off before you can finish your sentence. How a man can move that fast and not make a sound is beyond your comprehension. Completely alert, you watch his retreating form go down what looked like a long corridor. In the darkness, only the light illuminated his shape, making him appear like a shadow. You couldn’t see what he was doing but before you could ponder further, the walls seemed to shift in the distance, consuming the light and leaving your sight with only the only void.

Panic fills you like insects crawling into your pounding heart. Terror pricks upon your spine in chilling shudders. What did Luis do? Where did Luis go? Did Luis leave you?

You thought about calling out to him but the familiar sound of steel-capped footfalls fills your ears. You back yourself into the wall, making yourself as small as possible and hold you breath, daring not to make a single sound. The armored plaga are so close, the sharp clangs of metal echo off the walls in rhythm of your blood pumping. You thought for certain that it was over when one dreadful step resounded against the floorboard right beside you but a harsh thud in the distance catches the attention of the overgrown parasites. The plaga rush towards the noise and you listen carefully for their footsteps to echo further in the distance before sighing softly in relief.

Believing it would be best not to linger in this spot longer than necessary, you were about to shift to a stand until something firm gripped onto your shoulder. You nearly gasped aloud in shock, but your mouth is covered by what felt like a warm hand.

“Calma, calma.”

Luis’ thick accent reaches your ears in a soft, soothing whisper and you immediately relax under his touch. Remembering yourself, you slap his hand away and admonish him through clenched teeth.

“Luis, what the hell?!”

“No time for questions. Follow me.”

You hear him shuffle before you, the lack of light making it very difficult to make out what he was doing. After a minute, you hear the soft click of a mechanism and the low dragging of something heavy scuffing against the wooden floor. The hand on your shoulder swiftly slides down to grip your arm and you’re once again dragged through the darkness. The rush of your pace was short lived as Luis lets go of you. His body heat retreats from you and you nearly reached out for him, but your hand stops midair when you hear him tinkering offside and the familiar mechanism shifts gears. He must have led you both to one of the hidden rooms he mentioned before and just closed the entrance behind you.

“There. We’re safe. For the time being,” the Spaniard says.

You take in some much needed breath at his words. Once you have completely relaxed and was certain that you were not in immediate danger, you steal a moment to absorb your new surroundings and come to a familiar conclusion- it was dark as hell!

As you were about to ask what the next part of Luis’ genius plan was now that you have successfully evaded your armored pursuers, a soft click echoes off the wooden walls. Your curious eyes catch a small flame burning a ways from you, the warm light casting a warm glow against a familiar figure. It was Luis. With a lighter in hand.

You blink. “Have you had that this entire time?”

The man was hunched over one of the lower shelves of a large bookcase, tossing aside several books over his shoulders without a care for the amount of noise he made with his rummaging.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” you said as you beelined to his side. “What are you doing now, Luis?”

He responds without looking at you, “Un momento. It should be… ¡Oye! Found it!”

His hand lifts from the recesses of the shelf, revealing a rectangular tin container.

You blink, “It’s a box.”

It was Luis’ turn to roll his eyes. “Not just any box. Suppressants. This should help our two American friends with their parasite problem.”

His words perk you up to attention immediately. “That’s great! We should tell Leon and Ashley right away.” Your hand moves towards the communicator you keep on your person. However, again, Luis’ voice stops you.

“Not yet.”

You quirk your brow at him inquisitively. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

The dark-haired man shakes his head. “Nada. Rest assured, we’ll break the good news. But first, ¿por qué no nos tomamos un descanso?”

He wants to take a break? When you uncovered such a critical find?

You countered, “You really think now is the time for a breather?”

He responds with a shrug, “Now would probably be the only time, my friend. This room is completely safe, I promise. And I have every intention of savoring the moment it has to offer. You’re free to join me.”

The finality in his words truly left you with no room to argue. And boy, did you want to argue. But the ache in your muscles begged for rest and truthfully, the idea grew more tempting by the second.

Eventually, you cave. “Five minutes. And we keep going.”

Luis grins, “I can work with that. Next time will be longer.”

With that, his lighter closes with another metal click, killing the only light in the room and effectively rendering your sense of sight useless once more. You didn’t realize he moved until you felt his warmth breath fanning against your face, your nostrils taking in his musk.

“And for the record,” his voice comes off low and deep. “Me encantaría salir contigo.”

Before you could ask him to repeat himself as you didn’t quite catch that last part, he silences you with his lips pressed against yours, warm hands returning to your waist and pulling you close.

[epickiya722]

My problem with bkdk is that I emotionally got disconnected from the ship because of how it was written. I know they are friends and see each other but other than that, what are they? They arent a hero duo, they arent competing against each other, they dont work together, Horikoshi says that Bkg isnt special to Izuku because its now Ochako, so bkdk dont even have a special bond apparently. They dont share a future together. Like... what am I supposed to feel for this ship? Again, I get that theyre friends but it is not enough for me to be invested in this.

No disrespect, truthfully, but we have opposing ideas. And what I'm about to say, you don't have to agree with. I don't ever expect that from anybody.

If there's one thing that 431 did keep consistent is that it is open-ended as 430 is.

With that said, I don't see how this chapter is telling us that Bakugou and Midoriya can't be a hero duo. I said it before, they don't need an agency to do that. Just because Midoriya isn't working at the same building don't mean they can't be heroes together. Miruko, a Hero who works alone and doesn't have an agency, has constantly been shown to partner with other Heroes, so how could that not work for BakuDeku?

Yes, Midoriya and Bakugou won't always be working in the field together. Because Midoriya chose to be a teacher, it makes him happy and he should do something that does make him happy.

That doesn't mean their special bond is gone. That doesn't mean Ochako is suddenly that special person to Izuku. I have my reasons to think that.

And while this chapter is weirdly written the more I think about it, the less this chapter does feel like an Izuku and Ochako chapter. I feel more like a self-acceptance chapter. It was just... not written well, I guess. Or something else! I'll talk about that later.

I said it before in a post long before we even got the full chapter, Izuku and Ochako mirror each other.

Here's the thing about MHA and being a SJ manga. If this chapter was really meant to be for Izuku and Ochako getting together, then how come whoever worked on this chapter didn't have them actually mention each other in their conversations before meeting up with each other?

Instead, the conversations they have with the others (Izuku with Katsuki and Eijiro, Ochako with Tsu) is about themselves. The conversations was about their (Izuku's/Ochako's) work lives. About how they're feeling.

I haven't actually seen if they even mentioned the other at all until the very end of the chapter.

I find it interesting that the part where Izuku is turning his head to look at Ochako, there's this phrase that says, from the translations I saw, "... a version of myself" or "... a me I haven't discovered..."

That sounds more like self-discovery than him realizing romantic feelings which is long over due, let's be real. Again, that mirroring I mentioned!

Who in the heck has a self-discovery journey and comes to the conclusion they need to be romantically involved with someone? If anything that's how relationships fall apart. You have to love yourself first. Accept who you are and change what is needed to be.

To me, that moment, was Izuku coming to the realization that he could be a better him. Katsuki states to him that he thinks Izuku should start thinking more highly of himself. Izuku doesn't do that much for himself. Neither does Ochako.

Both of their goals aligned with something revolving around other people.

Both wanted to be heroes, wanting to save and make people smile. Ochako had the goal to become a hero to have money to help her parents. Izuku wanted to be a hero like All Might. Which is him wanting to be like another person.

In previous chapters, we had Ochako reflecting on herself whenever Izuku came into the frame. She finds herself striving to be like him. This time around, it's Izuku's turn.

With the scene with Himiko and Ochako, Himiko pushes Ochako to be happy. But she never said to be happy with whoever you want. Just be happy with the way you want to live. That doesn't mean dating.

If this chapter was meant to be romantic for our main boy and girl, then why did it feel more like self-discovery? Why didn't this chapter cater more to developing a potential romance from the start of it? They have held hands before that looked more romantic (chapter 322, which is so funny to me that in the anime, they made it look less so) than that dap up.

Now why was this chapter framed to look like some "potential romance" between these two?

It just looks more like sneaky writing really to keep a crowd of people happy. That's the "something else" I mentioned earlier.

It's like "it looks like this, but really it's this".

So really, this chapter may look like it's set up for some romance for Izuku and Ochako, but instead it's set up for the two to accept themselves and what they want to do with their lives.

I know, I know. The whole "Ochako became Izuku's special person" part.

One, I don't find anything wrong with Izuku wanting to make that moment about Ochako because he hasn't spoken to her in a while anyways. At that moment, she became the person be wanted to talk to. They did become close friends during UA and who wouldn't want to make time for a friend?

Second, again bringing up back the mirror, what if this is Izuku seeing Ochako as him? Metaphorically, it's him wanting to talk to himself. Ochako is his mirror and he is hers. It's him finally coming to terms with wanting do something that doesn't involve him catering to other people. Same on Ochako's end. What if that's the case?

That's just my interpretation and again, I don't expect you or anyone else to see it the way I do.

The chapter didn't really make me feel disconnected from BakuDeku at all. I'm the same person whose favorite MHA ship right now is of two characters who don't interact on screen. So this chapter isn't stopping me any time soon.

Heck, this chapter even made me adore TsuChako more. That's been my ship since day one and even with the whole TogaChako rise, didn't stop me from seeing pink and green and crying at the thought of TsuChako.

It's so funny to me that in this very chapter that Izuku and Ochako literally made plans to see Katsuki and Tsuyu the following day. (Tsu and Ochako being at an agency together and Katsuki being Izuku's guest teacher.)

Now, if you feel disconnected from BakuDeku, that's fine. I'm not going to tell you to not feel disconnected or convince you otherwise. If you feel disconnected, maybe not look at anything related to the two. Don't talk about them anymore. Anything you have to, really.

I'm not going to tell you to feel how you choose to and again, this answer to the ask isn't me trying to convince you to change your mind.

[television-overload]

What Really Happened

(an NCIS fanfic)

September 2024. Tali has some questions about her parents' trip to Paris nearly fifteen years prior, and she's determined to get the details.

Written for the September 2024 Tiva Fic Challenge! This month's prompt was "Jet Lag: What Really Happened?"

Read on AO3

For as long as Tali could remember, her father had told her a story. 

Twenty-four hours in Paris. A whirlwind trip, romantic and magical. The thing is, every time he told the story, it was different. Details changed, dialogue was exaggerated to unbelievable proportions… What it lacked in detail, it made up for in sentimentality. 

“And then I told her she was the most beautiful thing in the city, even prettier than the Eiffel Tower when it sparkles.”

“Did you kiss?” Tali would ask, eyes twinkling.

“Uh, yeah, of course. Now will you go to bed?”

Tali could see, now, he just told her whatever would get her to sleep the quickest. While she hadn’t understood back then, it couldn’t have been easy to be so suddenly thrust into fatherhood with no warning. But it never mattered to her. He was her Abba, and he was the best dad she could have asked for.

“No, tell me more!” she’d demand. “What did Ima look like?”

He would adjust the frame on her bed stand, gazing wistfully at the picture within.

“She looked like an angel, just like you.”

Only a few things stayed the same with every retelling, as far as she could figure: Her mother and father together in Paris, a quaint cafe not far from the tourist sites, and a Vespa scooter that they rode around the city together. 

That all may have suited her just fine as a bedtime story when she was little, but Tali was almost eleven years old, now. She could tell she wasn't being told the full truth, and she had a feeling some of the details he would recite were entirely fabricated. She'd done the math, compared the story with what she knew of their lives before she was born—what others who knew them then had told her. Oh yeah, she had sources.

It just didn’t match up.

Time to test out those detective skills to get to the bottom of it. Surely those were genetic?

There was a box in her parents’ closet. It had been there as long as they’d lived here, shipped over from the U.S. when they first moved. Mostly, she figured it held boring stuff like paperwork and whatever else had been in her father’s desk at NCIS before he quit. But maybe there was more. Maybe it contained all the answers to every question she’d ever wondered about her parents.

Or maybe not.

Kneeling on the floor of the closet, she surveyed the contents of the plain cardboard box. It was a mess of papers. Considering the journey it had taken across an ocean and later from their old apartment to their new one, she wasn’t surprised. There were a few other items mixed in, a colorful stapler with a cartoon mouse on it, a few dusty looking service awards…

And an envelope. Now that looked promising.

Reaching in, she pulled it out, growing more and more certain that what she held was a stack of photographs. Photographs of what, she could only guess. Had she found clues that might explain what her parents had been doing in Paris years before they would ever move here? If not, what other pictures might her father have kept in his desk at work?

She held her breath as she opened it, carefully plucking at the corner of one of the colorful prints as she pulled it from the stack.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Tali jumped, only narrowly avoiding throwing the pictures across the room in reflex.

“Ima!” she squeaked, wondering if it was too late to hide them behind her back. The box wasn’t off-limits, per se, but it did have a sort of mystical quality that made digging around in it feel like a breach of some code. It was from a time long past—a time her parents didn’t talk about much, at least when she was around.

But there her mother stood in the doorway to her room, arms crossed over her chest as she fixed a suspicious glare in her direction.

“I was just—”

Her words trailed off as her mother’s expression quickly shifted from suspicion to curiosity. “What do you have there?” she asked, her folded arms falling to her sides as she made her way across the room, glancing down at the box splayed open in the closet.

Tali held out the envelope. Well, this had been a mission failure, she thought—at least the stealthy, ninja-like aspect of it. It remained to be seen if she had in fact found what she was looking for. 

“Just some pictures, I think,” she mumbled, handing them over reluctantly.

Her ima slipped them out of the envelope and flipped through them, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a wistful smile.

“Honey, I’m home!” a voice singsonged from the entry hall, echoey and distant. 

Her dad. 

He’d started saying that when he got home from work as a joke, but now he did it unironically. It got old pretty quick, but she did find it endearing, in a way. 

“Hey, where is everybody?” he asked, his voice getting louder and clearer with proximity. Before long, he was peeking his head around the doorway. “Uh oh, am I in trouble?” he asked, taking note of the box at their feet. “I swear I threw out those old magazines before we moved.”

Tali briefly wondered what magazines he could possibly be talking about, and why he would have a physical copy of a magazine in the first place, but she was much more interested in the photos her mom was holding.

“Look what our daughter found,” her ima said, waving the glossy prints in her father’s direction.

“Not the… in California…”

Her ima laughed. “No. Not those ones.”

Her father looked somewhat relieved. “Ah, then it must be the ones from my brief stint as a travel photographer,” he mused aloud, setting his briefcase aside and approaching their huddle by the closet. He took one look at the photos in her hand and grinned. “I still think that’s my favorite picture, by the way,” he said, nodding down at the one she held separate from the others, then dipping down to press a quick kiss to her lips.

“I didn’t actually get to see them,” Tali pouted, crossing her arms with a huff. “Ima took them away before I could see what they were.”

Her mother shared a look with her father, communicating in that infuriatingly wordless way they always did. What were they smirking at?

“Why don’t we go sit down on the couch in the living room and we can look through them together, my love,” Ima said at last, flicking off the light in the closet. 

Tali supposed that was agreeable. Whatever she had found, she could at least now be certain they were photos from her parents’ past. She followed them out to the sofa, taking a seat between them on the cushions.

“You know what these are?” her mother asked, finally granting her a peek at what she had unearthed from the box.

It took all her self control not to whoop in excitement when she spotted familiar streets and buildings in just the first few photos. 

Jackpot. 

“Dad told me,” she said, smiling as she came across one of Ima looking through postcards at a shop. That must be her father’s favorite. “You guys came to Paris.”

Her mother nodded. “We were sent here for work, that’s right.”

Wait, go back a second.

“For work?” Tali asked, her forehead crinkling in confusion. “Dad never told me that.”  

“He—” Ima’s head slowly turned in her father’s direction, fixing him with a meaningful glare. “What did he tell you?” she asked, her tone light and inquisitive, but Tali could sense the undercurrent of tension her comment had sparked. Dad was in troubleee.

She glanced at him quickly before answering. “Well… It all sounded very… romantic,” she spoke. To her left, her father looked like he was trying to disappear into the cushions, an awkward grin pulling at his lips. 

Oh, Abba, surely you knew this would one day come back to bite you?

“Tony!” Ima shouted predictably, smacking him in the arm. “Why did you lie to Tali?”

“I didn’t lie to her,” he asserted, chuckling nervously.

“You told me that you kissed her on the Eiffel Tower!” Tali said, adding fuel to the flame. Ima's jaw dropped, and she shot him a look. It was funny to watch her dad squirm. Only Ima could make him do that.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I may have embellished a little,” he acknowledged.

Her mother grabbed the nearest throw pillow off the couch and used it to wallop him in the face, all the while concealing a smile. A woosh of air from the attack blew Tali’s hair back, and she giggled uncontrollably, falling back into the cushions.

“Tony, you have never kissed me on the Eiffel Tower,” she countered irritably.

“I haven’t? Well, we should go fix that,” he said, pretending to get to his feet to leave.

Tali rolled her eyes. “Daaaad.”

He sat back down. “Alright, another time,” he acquiesced. “To be fair, what happened in Paris has always been a bit of a secret between your mom and I. I distinctly remember you lying to Nora on that plane, sweetcheeks.”

“And you lied to McGee,” her mom fired back without missing a beat.

“I knew it,” Tali whispered. Okay, so she knew a little more than she was letting on. Uncle Tim will be delighted that she got a confession out of them.

“I’ll admit it,” Dad started, getting serious once more. “The bedtime story version wasn’t quite the truth.” 

Well yeah, that was obvious. 

“The truth is, we were on assignment for NCIS,” he continued. “Not very romantic, huh? I guess the way I told it is how I wish it had happened. How it should have happened, if I hadn’t been such a coward.”

This brought a fond, slightly sad smile to her mother’s face, and Tali could feel an arm drape over the back of the couch behind her.

“I wouldn’t say it was entirely unromantic,” Ima said, her fingers playing with the short hair at the back of her dad’s head. “She is old enough to hear this story, yes?” she said, her eyes imploring him to agree with her.

“Most of it,” he answered, breathing out a laugh. “I think she can live without the knitting needle incident until she’s a little older.”

“Agreed.”

Tali crossed her legs on the couch, looking back and forth between her parents. She waited with bated breath for the story to begin, but they sure were taking their sweet time.

Sometimes this happened. They'd just go silent and stare at each other with dopey smiles on their faces until someone or something snapped them out of it. It was annoying.

“Hello?” she said, hopefully reminding them of her presence. “You were saying?”

Her dad was the first to break eye contact, reaching out for the stack of photos and flipping through them.

“Right,” he started. “Do you want to start, or should I, sweetcheeks?”

“You go,” Ima said with a nod. “I want to see if you are capable of remembering this correctly.”

Dad opened his mouth as if to argue, but Tali, with the gift of foresight, distracted him with a question before he could start.

“So, what was the assignment?” she asked, blinking up at him imploringly.

“Protection detail,” he answered, shifting his attention back to her. “A witness who needed safe passage back to the U.S. for a trial. Nora was her name.”

“So you just went there to pick her up and that was it?” Tali asked, desperately hoping that wasn't the case. How boring would that be? No, she knew they had fond memories of the trip. There had to be more than that.

“Pretty much,” her dad answered. “But we flew in the day before, so we got to explore a little bit.”

“Tell me!”

Her mother chuckled, shaking her head at Tali's eagerness.

“Your father wouldn't stop making movie references the entire time we were in the city,” she said. “I think as soon as we stepped foot in the airport, he thought we were on some kind of grand adventure. I had to remind him we were there on business, and that we needed to check into the hotel before doing anything else.”

“You should have seen McGee's face when the Director picked us to go,” her dad said with a laugh. “Oh, it was priceless.”

“What happened next?” Tali implored.

Her father crossed his arms and kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Well, your mom convinced me that we needed to go drop our stuff off at the hotel first, so we caught a taxi. Secretly, I think she just wanted to freshen up, fix her hair and makeup and all that after being stuck on a plane for so long. She had a crush on me back then, you know.”

His eyes met her ima’s here, one eyebrow twitching upward teasingly.

“Oh, shut up,” Ima said, rolling her eyes.

“It's true!”

“Not a crush, that was earlier. This was something different.”

“Looove?” he singsonged, his grin infectious.

“Nooo,” Ima sang right back, matching his tone. “I do not know. Maybe. I do not think even I knew what it was at the time.”

“Well I was pretty in love with you,” he responded, practically radiating heart eyes in her direction. “Obviously.”

“You were not so obvious. I thought you were just being a goofball,” Ima spoke.

Any easy mistake, Tali thought.

“I was trying to flirt with you, but clearly I didn't succeed,” he corrected. “You know, Tali, your mom refused to go sightseeing with me.”

Tali turned to her mother, surprised. “What? Why?”

“We had a mission, I was trying to keep things professional,” she said in her defense. “It was in the best interest of our witness that we get a good night's rest and stay on task.”

Yeah, but that sounded boring.

Her father, evidently, agreed. “You're no fun,” he said with an exaggerated pout.

“I went to dinner with you, didn't I?” Ima asked.

He begrudgingly nodded. “She did go to dinner with me, I'll give her that.”

“And was the dinner not romantic?”

“Hard to find somewhere to eat that doesn't fit that description in this city,” he countered.

Ziva waved her hand in the air with finality. “There you go.”

Tali couldn’t help but feel that they’d gotten a little off track, but it was still fun to hear about their time together before she was born. She tried to picture them, younger than she’d ever seen them and probably a little wilder, too. She wanted to know more.

“So you went to dinner,” Tali summarized, nudging them to tell the rest of the story. “You didn't go anywhere else?”

Ima jumped in next. “Well, your father… He had rented a scooter—you know about the scooter,” she said, referring to the one in the picture Tali still kept on her nightstand. Tali nodded emphatically. This was one element of the story that had remained consistent throughout every retelling. Her mother continued, “He got us so lost on the way back to the hotel after dinner, that eventually I had to tell him to stop so I could ask someone for directions.”

At this, her father looked highly pleased with himself, his small smile concealing an even wider grin. 

“Can I let you in on a little secret, sweetcheeks?” he said.

“Hm?”

“I wasn't lost. I knew exactly where we were the whole time.”

Ima’s jaw dropped open, and Tali thought her dad was lucky that Ima was all out of pillows on her side of the couch that could be used as ammunition.

“Tony! We drove around for at least an hour!” she chastised. 

“Exactly! How else was I going to take you to look at the pretty lights around the city, or to all the big tourist sites?”

“I cannot believe you.”

“Come on, you loved it,” he said knowingly, tilting his head at her. “You got to put your arms around me for a whole hour.”

Ima raised an eyebrow and Tali could tell she was determinedly resisting the urge to laugh. “Are you sure that was not your motivation for it, then?”

“Oh, it absolutely was,” he answered easily. “If that was the only time I'd get to feel your arms around me, I was gonna make the most of it.”

Blegh, Tali thought. That was one thing that made her different from most kids in her class. Her parents really really loved each other. And they weren’t afraid to show it.

“I did enjoy it,” Ima admitted. “I liked that cologne you used to wear.”

“Well, that's good,” he said, smiling, “I practically drenched myself in it whenever I knew I'd be working in close quarters with you. I think maybe I hoped it would be like some kind of magic potion that would make you fall madly in love with me.”

“I guess it worked,” her mother teased with a shrug, which her father got a kick out of.

“I guess it did,” he said. “Though I hope you love me for more than just the way I smell. That cologne went out of production years ago.”

Ima’s eyes shone, equal parts charmed and amused. “I do. You know I do.” 

His lips pulled back in a smile and he leaned forward, meeting Ima’s lips with his own right in front of Tali. She was practically squished between them, forced to endure their display of affection at close range.

“Would you two like to sit next to each other?” she asked, unimpressed. “I feel like I'm not even here.”

Her parents withdrew, her father suppressing a laugh. “Sorry, where were we?”

“Dinner,” she reminded him.

“Right,” he started. “Well, before dinner, we walked around for a bit, looked at all the little shops. That's when I took this picture of your Ima,” he said, holding out the one of her at the postcard stand. “Pretty good, huh?”

“I still think it would look better in black and white,” Ima spoke, looking at it with a critical eye.

“Maybe we could get a copy made, hang it on the wall,” her father offered, which elicited a chuckle.

“Now, I would not go that far.”

“Did you buy anything?” Tali asked, wondering what someone who didn’t live in the city might want to take home with them as a memento.

“Just some souvenirs,” Dad answered. “And a postcard for McGee. ‘Wish you were here!’”

Ima smiled. “Then we sat and ate dinner.”

“You looked so beautiful that day,” her father mused, gazing fondly at the photograph in hand. “I really do wish I had kissed you. I drove you right by the Eiffel Tower.”

“Which was nowhere near our hotel,” she reminded him.

“Pretty sure we've established that I was being sneaky.”

“What happened when you got back to the hotel?” Tali asked.

Ima looked suspiciously at her. “You are being very nosy today, motek. Why the sudden questions?”

Tali shrugged, keeping her face neutral. “I've just always wondered, that's all.”

Ima narrowed her eyes, not fully accepting that as an answer, but eventually, she continued. “Well, we actually had a nice hotel to stay at, for once. Usually when we traveled, at least in the States, NCIS would book us rooms at the cheapest motels they could find.”

“But not this time?”

She shook her head. “Not this time. They wanted us somewhere close to the embassy, where we would be picking up our witness.”

“Wow.” Their jobs sounded so cool, sometimes. Of course, she knew there was a lot of un-cool stuff they hadn’t told her, but what she did know sounded fun. She still sometimes had a hard time believing her boring old parents were once gun-toting federal agents, chasing down bad guys and saving the day. It seemed even more improbable that her Grampa Gibbs had done the same.

“You're skipping over a very important part of the story, Zee-vah,” her father said smugly, bringing her attention back to the tale. “Tell her what the front desk lady said when we tried to check in!”

Ima rolled her eyes and huffed. “Tony, I can tell you want to say this part, so why don't you just do it?”

He grinned excitedly. “Fine. I will. So we walked in this huge, beautiful lobby, right? And I went up to the desk and said, ‘Excuse me, ma’am. There should be two rooms under the name DiNozzo for us, please.’”

“Two rooms?” Tali asked.

“We were just friends back then, you see,” her abba explained. “Actually, we had been going through a bit of a rough patch. Friends might have been pushing it.”

Ima was quick to correct that. “You were my friend, Tony,” she said, looking at him kind of sadly.

He gave a nod. “Friends, then. But not together. And since we were there for work, it was agency policy for two agents of opposite gender to stay in separate rooms.”

That made sense, Tali supposed.

“But then…” Ima started.

“Hey, you said I could tell this part,” her father whined.

“Alright, then get to the point,” she waved him on.

“But then,” he repeated, “the woman at the desk said there was some misunderstanding with our reservation, and they only had one room for us.”

Misunderstanding? Or mischief on Uncle Tim's part as some form of payback for not getting to go to Paris, Tali wondered. She made a mental note to ask him the next time she talked to him.

“Would you have gotten in trouble?” she asked instead.

“We probably would have gotten a slap on the wrist from H.R., and a slap on the head from Gibbs. But no one ever found out,” her father answered.

From what Tali had heard from Uncle Tim, he knew something about what happened. But the specifics were out of his reach too. That’s where Tali came in.

“God, I was so in love with you,” her abba said, gazing lovingly at her ima. “It was pathetic. I don't know how you could have missed it. That mixup with the rooms was like my wildest dream coming true.”

“Tony…”

“I'm sorry if I drove you crazy that night,” he continued, ignoring her attempt to stop him. “I think I was a little drunk on the wine we'd had at dinner still.”

“You were not drunk. I know, because I let you drive us home. You were just… Tony.”

“Mm. Just me, huh?” he asked, smirking at her with a pleased look on his face. 

“I found it endearing. Even if I wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation.”

“She offered to take the couch,” he informed Tali. “I told her that she was being ridiculous, that the ginormous bed was big enough for the two of us to share, but she tried to insist. Eventually, I threatened to take the couch myself, and she came to her senses.”

“If I had given up the couch to you, you would have complained about your back the whole flight home the next day,” Ima pointed out.

“Would not!”

Tali had to agree with her mother, here. “Dad, that does sound like you,” she said.

“Now you're ganging up on me! That's not fair!”

“Your father was the perfect gentleman that night, Tali,” Ima continued. “Believe me, I was surprised too. Not even one joke about our situation.”

Her dad seemed shocked at this information as well. “Really? I didn't make any jokes at all?” he asked.

Ima shook her head. “None that I can remember.”

“Huh,” he said. “I was probably too nervous myself to say anything.”

“Why were you nervous?” Tali asked. 

“Because,” he started, draping his arm over the back of the couch and over Ima’s shoulder, “sharing a bed with someone—especially someone you're secretly pining for—is a very intimate thing. You kind of lose your sense of personal space. Whatever mask you put on during the day comes off, whether you want it to or not.”

“You guys wore masks during the day?” Tali questioned. She pictured superhero masks, or maybe the kind you wear when you’re sick.

“Not that kind of mask,” he corrected. “I mean the emotional kind, when you don't want other people to see how you're really feeling, so you pretend to feel something else. I used to do that a lot when I was younger, and not quite as wise as I am today.”

“As did I,” Ima agreed.

Tali’s face screwed up in confusion. Everything seemed so simple. Why did they make it seem so complicated? 

“Why didn't you just tell each other the truth?” she asked.

This time, her mother answered. “We did, more than we told others at least. But that was a very difficult time for your father and I. We were just learning how to trust each other again.”

“Didn't you always trust each other? You were partners!”

Dad’s knee bumped companionably against her own. “You have to understand, Tali, our jobs were very difficult. I don't think you’re ready for the full story quite yet, but your mom had just been through something horrible and scary, and part of it was my fault.”

Ima’s face fell, and she shook her head. “Tony. It was not your fault,” she said.

“At least some of the blame was mine,” he insisted.

“No. Tony, do not think that way.”

He gave her a small, placating smile. “Alright, we'll agree to disagree,” he said. “But the point is, Tali, it was a very strange time for the two of us. Being completely honest with each other wasn't something we were particularly good at.”

“But we got through it,” she said, reaching for his hand.

He smiled, eyes watering as he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Yes. Yes we did. We just danced around a lot of things we probably should have discussed much sooner.”

“Like the fact that you loved each other?” Tali offered.

Her dad gave a dry chuckle. “Oh yeah. That was the biggest one of all.”

“We were not ready for that conversation yet, motek,” Ima said, running a hand through Tali’s hair.

“But that didn't stop you from getting all cozy with me that night, did it, sweetheart?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her, teasing her playfully.

“I think that is probably enough for one day,” Ima said, trying her hardest not to smile at his antics. Her cheeks blossomed pink.

“No, let's keep going!” he said, spurring her on. “Look at you blushing, I can't believe you still get embarrassed talking about this!”

“I am not embarrassed, Tony,” she countered.

“You aren't? Could have fooled me. When I brought it up in the morning at that cafe, I thought you were going to strangle me for mentioning it in broad daylight.”

Tali giggled at this back-and-forth that they were so good at. It wasn’t often that her dad managed to get under Ima’s skin in this way, it was usually the other way around.

“I thought there was a mutual agreement never to speak of that night again,” Ima responded, her voice low.

“Well, I never agreed to any such thing.”

Things just got curiouser and curiouser, Tali thought, intrigued. “What? What happened?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, we started out the night happily keeping to our own sides of the bed,” her abba explained. “A nice, sensible space between us.”

“I was asleep, Tony, I cannot be held accountable for–”

“But then your ima, here, decided that I made a much better pillow than the one she was using, so I got a face full of Ziva hair.”

Tali laughed, her mother’s indignant attempts to correct him striking her as utterly hilarious.

“If you were awake, you could have very easily pushed me off you,” Ima argued.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because, Tony, we were supposed to be keeping a respectable distance!”

“Counterpoint: Your hair smelled really good and, oh yeah, I was super in love with you.”

Ima huffed, having no comeback for such a line. “So you have mentioned.”

“Anyway, it was the best night's sleep I'd ever had,” her father finished. “Ziva?”

“What?”

“Would you agree?” he asked.

Ima blew out a breath, thinking it over. “Well, at the time, I often dealt with nightmares.”

“And?”

“And… You just want me to admit that I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't go back to my side of the bed, don't you?” Ima stared accusingly at Dad.

“Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, yes, I did. I was comfortable, and the dreams weren't as bad as usual for some reason.”

“Hmm, I wonder what that reason was,” Dad said sarcastically, tapping a finger thoughtfully on his chin. But then he looked at Ima again and smiled, his expression melting into one of adoration. “I wish you would have told me all this back then,” he said. “Could have saved both of us a lot of trouble.”

“No point in dwelling on it now,” Ima surmised, and he gently rubbed her shoulder before pulling back.

“When I woke up in the morning, she was still in my arms, conked out and snoring like a freight train,” he continued his tale.

“What a lovely sight that must have been,” Ima said sarcastically.

“It was!” he said. “I could have laid like that forever. I guess, now I get to.”

More mushy stuff. Great. “Okay, I get it. You love each other. Now is that it?” Tali asked.

Dad shrugged. “Pretty much. The next morning your mom got all awkward and tried to pretend we hadn't just spent the night cuddling in the most romantic city in the world,” he narrated.

“Meanwhile, your father woke up in an unnervingly pleasant mood and hurried off to go sightseeing, while I headed to a cafe for a late breakfast.”

Tali turned to her father. “What did you go see, dad?”

“Well, the embassy isn't too far from here, actually,” he spoke, glancing toward the window in their living room. “I drove around for a bit, past the Louvre, saw everything in that area. Took lots of pictures.”

“And then we met up at the cafe for a little while before it was time to pick up our witness,” Ima finished.

“That's when we got that picture taken. The one in your room.”

Her dad told her, sometimes, about the moment he realized she knew who he was. How that picture had been her connection to him before they met, and how it later connected her to her mother while she was away.

Their family’s story was a strange one. For a long time, she hadn't known the particulars, of course. But she was the only kid at school whose mom was off who-knows-where hiding from who-knows-who and doing who-knows-what. Not that she was allowed to talk about any of that. She only picked up bits and pieces when her dad would talk to Pop Pop after she'd gone to bed, and her memories of those conversations were pretty fuzzy.

She also never fully grasped the significance of the lack of pictures from when she was a baby, or the fact that she had been born in Israel, while her father lived in the U.S.

But now, she had begun to piece some things together, and it made her a little sad. She wondered if she would ever fully understand what had happened. Why, until she was six, they had never been a family together, all in one place.

The fact that her parents had been so close, and yet so far from their happy ending back then… Almost fifteen years ago, now…

“Is that why you wanted us to live in Paris?” she asked her father.

“I guess so,” he said, reaching for Ima's hand. “Part of me, I think, hoped we'd find her here right away. Like maybe that picture frame in your bag had been a message telling me where to meet her. But also, yes. We had nothing but good memories here. Seemed a good place for a fresh start.”

“The same cannot be said for the airplane we took back to America with our witness,” Ima joked, lightening the mood.

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Dad agreed. “If I wanted to experience mortal peril on an airplane, I would just watch Liam Neeson in ‘Non-Stop.’ But then, that movie hadn't come out yet. Come to think of it, I feel like we should have been contacted for our expertise by the studio that made that movie. Do you think they could have given us writing credits?”

Tali sensed that the rest of the story would have to wait for another day. Most of their case stories were like that. Just a couple more years, then maybe she’d be old enough.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said, interrupting her father’s rambling about movies.

“Of course, neshama sheli,” Ima said, placing her hand on her knee.

“Anytime, kiddo. This was fun.”

“And?” Ima prompted.

“And,” he continued, “I’m sorry for making up stories when you were little. I should have told you the truth.”

Tali looked at him, smiling when his eyes met hers. She leaned into his side, and he lifted his arm, welcoming her in for an embrace.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I liked your stories. They were like fairy tales.”

He sighed. “If only it had really been like a fairy tale.”

“It is, though!” Tali said seriously, leaning back to face him. “You got your happily ever after, right?”

Dad’s eyes lifted to meet Ima’s, and they shared a smile, another one of their silent conversations.

“You are right, Tali,” Ima said, eyes shining with some deep emotion. “Maybe we had a fairy tale ending after all.”

-.-.-

Tali waited until her parents had gone to bed before sneaking out of her own room and into the kitchen. She found the phone out on the countertop where her father had left it, and quickly navigated to the right name in his contact list.

She pressed the call button and the phone rang. While she waited, she tried to mentally count backwards and estimate the time it was in D.C., but that was entirely too much math for this time of night.

Eventually, the line connected with a click.

“McGee,” the voice on the other end spoke.

“Uncle Tim!” Tali said in a whisper.

“Hey, Trouble!” he greeted jovially. “Whatcha got for me?”

Tali’s chest bubbled with giddiness, and she bit her lip to keep from shouting the answer.

“Uncle Tim, they told me everything!”

-.-.-

Tags <3 @tiva-fic-challenges @benedettabeby @butwhenthesuncameup @earanemith @hopeless-nostalgiac @indestinatus @loudlooks @mrsmungus @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tivajunkie @tonysziva @whoa-myninja

[denial-permanente]

Wondering how you deal with making those captions and answering that many question while being locked but without becoming crazy...

To me it's like I had to kinda "forget" about that thing down there do be able to get remotely used to it.

And I am far far away from your time frames...

If I locked up being horny in the first place it was pure torture. Couldn't stop thinking about it. To the other newcomers here - having a wank and locking up afterwards is easier in this regard. The sexual drive is gone so it's easier to not think about it being caged. At least for me...

Anyways, I am wondering how this part of your journey was for you? I know about the story when Miss went on a trip and so on... But to sum it up, would you say that you eased into the cage or was it more like getting used to and than full commitment at once?

And getting back to my primary thought, have you been active in the interwebs from the beginning on? And if so, did it interfere with getting used to being locked? Or did you kinda naturally reduce your online times during first longer periods so it didn't drove you crazy?

And compared to today - I guess nowadays it's just easy because not getting hard while doing everything is just the new normal ? I mean like no difference between writing this blog (being locked) and getting a new haircut (being locked) - is it?

So asked more from a mental point of view: what would your recommend for beginners, to get into longer periods? Would it be better to ditch all remotely porn related things? Lock it, and forget about Tumblr and other platforms while being in the first few week or month long lockups?

Or am I completely wrong with it needing to become "normal" in a way that you don't think about it any longer?

Sometimes I am comparing it to girls wearing a bra... Might be new in the beginning. Might be strange. Might feel uncomfy at times. But the extra support is mostly welcome and after a few years a woman not only does not think about the bra anymore she doesn't notice it 99% of the time and if she does it's just normal and not kinky or sex related at all. And in the end she might even feel incomplete without a bra in public.

To me it's like it's you kinda need to get to this point with a cage. Don't you?

🔏 Wow, there's a lot here! Let's see if I can simplify it: You seem to be wondering how I learned to cope with the constant arousal of being locked with no relief. Is that it?

I had purchased a CB3000 pretty much right when they came out. I spent some time making adjustments and figuring out the fit, etc. I did all this *before* I sprung it on @mrs--edge. We had already tried this because I had made a few of my own cages, and she did enjoy the idea. Once I figured out a good combination of rings and spacers for the CB3000, I showed her a picture of the product. "You've got to get one of those," she said. I told her that I had already bought it, so she had me put it on for her, and we jumped right into it. I think I was locked for at least two weeks straight, then a little break, then a couple more weeks, and before long it was weeks, then months at a time.

Was I horny all the time? Of course. Hell, twenty five years later and I'm still horny all the time. But probably it was because I didn't get any breaks that I just learned to live with what I called the "constant low-level simmer of arousal."

As to looking at porn, etc, I'm not sure what to say. Except for the picture captions that I do, I'm not much for looking at porn. Frankly, very few things are nearly as exciting to me as the stuff in my own head. But if you had a habit of viewing it often, I'd suggest cutting back would help in not going crazy being caged.

Look, I can't tell you what will work for you. A lot of guys seem to need to build up to it. A week. A couple of weeks. Then maybe the entire month of LOctober. I get it; being horny all the time is distracting. How do you relieve the constant pressure?

For me, it seems like getting tossed right into the deep end just worked out. My wife took to this pretty quickly, and she liked my constant physical attention - as long as I didn't get whiney and bothersome. She had no problem early on telling me "No coming until I say so," and eventually, "No more being unlocked." In some ways, I didn't have much choice except to become used to holding it in. The advantage to that approach is that it by necessity becomes "normal" which probably makes the transition easier.

[skipper1331]

Legacy // Ellen White (platonic)

a/n: based off this request. Sorry, it took me awhile!

The english wonder talent, that‘s how people called you.

-

Ellen woke up due to a weird feeling. Confused and extremely tired, she looked around.

She expected to see your figure laying on your bed but she didn‘t. Nor did it seem like you were in the bathroom.

You weren‘t there.

Where were you?

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she got out of bed, slipping in her slippers as she left the room.

"I hate it here" you cried into the speaker of your phone, a choked sob escaping your throat. "Pick me up" you pleaded, more tears streaming down your face.

Unknown to you, Ellen stood at the door frame, your back turned to her. She didn‘t hear the other persons responses but she heard your desperate crying. "Nobody is talking to me" - and it was true.

Everybody kept their distance. A 16 year old girl in the senior squad? Nah, no way. They didn‘t talk to you if not needed. "They don‘t even call me by my name. I‘m just the wonder kid"

Ellen‘s heart broke because she knew exactly what you meant. Nobody did bother to get to know you, bitchy looks sent your way. "I want to go home.." was the last thing Ellen heard before she disappeared back in your shared room.

The og-lioness felt awful. She knew what it was like to be new in the senior squad, the way everybody seems intimidating and scary and all of the new impressions at once.

That night she made it her mission to get to know you - not the wonder kid. She would take you under her wing.

-

"Good morning" the striker greeted you as you walked out of the bathroom, ready for the day.

"Hey" you replied.

"So ready for breakfast? The pancakes are awesome" she smiled, throwing her arm around your shoulders. You furrowed your brows, nevertheless accepting her friendly act. "I prefer omelet to be honest" you smiled.

You didn‘t know nor realize in that moment that it was the start of a great bond.

-

When it was noticed that Ellen was talking to you about all sorts of things, it didn’t take long for Jill, Lucy and Millie to join your group. Rachel catching up eventually.

While the younger ones still avoided you, the 5 Ogs spent every minute with you.

Each meal, the 6 of you would sit together and share stories.

During partner drills you never had to wait to find someone, the 5 women fighting with whom you should do the drill.

In the end, it was always Ellen.

You enjoyed doing drills with her, working with her helped to develop your technic and playing style and added to that, she was a sweetheart.

„If it feels wrong to shoot - shoot“ she said.

-

"Are you nervous?" Ellen asked as you walked in the changing room, about to face France in a friendly.

Obviously Ellen was in the starting line up while you were a substitute, not even sure if you would get playtime. "Guess so" you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. Truth to be told, you were a nervous and excited wreck. To see your name on the lionesses jersey was something that you dreamt off ever since you were a little girl. It felt surreal, adventurous and satisfying. It was the greatest honor to represent your country.

"You shuffled the whole bus journey with your feet, you‘re nervous. And that‘s okay" the striker told you as she laid her arm around your shoulder in comfort, "It can be intimidating but once you‘re out there, everything just fades away. It‘s just you and the sport you love"

Motherly, she pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before she gave you a little push in the direction of your cubby.

You wanted to cherish the moment forever.

Standing in front of you cubby, you took everything in, how everything was prepared perfectly, how your jersey hung there - your name on the back.

You made it.

your younger-self couldn‘t be prouder.

For the whole match, you stayed on the bench, not that you would complain in any way. You were happy to be here. You felt great and with a 2-0 win, there was nothing that could put you in a bad mood.

"the goat scored once again" you cheered as you ran happily to Ellen, jumping on her back, the woman laughing at your antics. "That was so cool, nutmegging the goalie wow" you rambled on about the banger she scored. It didn‘t matter that is was 'just' a friendly - nothing mattered at all besides the fact that you did it. You were in the squad of the lionesses, preparing for the upcoming events.

It was the last camp before the final squad announcement for the euros.

You were determined to show them that you‘re important to this team.

Thanks to Ellen.

You didn’t care anymore if the young ladies of the squad didn‘t talk to you or interacted with you, all that matters was the fact that you found your home in Ellen White, Millie Bright, Lucy Bronze, Rachel Daly and Jill Scott. It was your little gang.

The moms and their baby.

-

After camp finished, everybody returned to their clubs and you were happy to finally be back home. Ellen called you once a week to make sure you‘re okay and how your week went. She was the mother, you never had. She was caring, loving and kind. Your talks went on for hours as you told her about every detail and every news that occupied your mind.

Ellen was the person you trusted more than anyone, in a short period of time, she made you feel welcomed, appreciated and loved.

As kid you idolized her and now she‘s your friend, your anchor in the sea and fear of reality.

-

Ellen was the first person you called after your call-up for the euros. If you thought your first official senior squad call up felt awesome - the euros call up was nothing compared to it. You felt euphoric and immensely proud. Every possible feeling of happiness flowed through your body, a feeling that was indescribable, indescribably great.

Euros on home soil.

-

Your debut happened against norway - you played brilliantly. You didn‘t score yet your crosses were on point as you assisted two goals. It was fantastic and the fans welcomed you with open arms.

Since then you‘ve been subbed in every game, the super sub as they called you. Nonetheless with the rest of the girls, there wasn‘t much interacting besides with Lotte who was starting to talk to you, daily as she got to know you while you sat next to her on the bench. She‘s such a sweetheart.

-

It wasn‘t until the match against Spain where you earned everybody’s respect, that you weren‘t just the wonder kid, the youngster, the child.

You were Y/N Y/L/N.

As usually, you started on the bench, Lotte next to you. The game was intense, Spain eager to win as they showed it with the opening goal.

England was down by one. Your nerves started to rise as the time went by - 10 minutes left.

You got subbed in in the 81th minute, Ella scoring the equalizer shortly after.

Everything was possible again. Every girl on the pitch was determined to win. There was no way, the English would loose.

When the ball came from Keira, you started to run. No one was trying to defend you, so you took the risk. Already in extra time, there had to happen something. And as no opponent came up to you, you just did it.

„If it feels wrong to shoot - shoot“

Outside the box, you hit the ball with so much force, praying it would go in - it had to. Otherwise the girls would hate you more and England could loose.

"FUCK YESSS" you felt someone jump on you, the stadium erupting in cheers as the rest of the girls huddled around you. And the girl you were, you just stood there, not realizing that you scored probably the winning goal.

After the celebrating calmed down, there was only one thing in mind: defend. Do not let the Spaniards score.

Which the lionesses managed. They won. As the whistle blew, the bench started to run towards you, everybody celebrating you with the banger of a goal you scored.

It was the beginning of something new.

-

The girls became your family. And not just your little gang but everyone of the squad. They joked around, did drills with you and simply enjoyed your company. You weren‘t just the 16 year old anymore. You were much more, a little sister who they must protect.

-

Final.

Wembley.

Germany - England.

You couldn‘t be more nervous.

"We can do this" Ellen whispered as she massaged your shoulders in the changing room, the striker sensing your nervous state.

You turned around, "yeah" you whispered, ready to bring the trophy home.

The atmosphere was unbelievable, the stands were full - many lionesses shirts to see.

As the national anthem started everybody sang their hearts out, this is it - this is England.

The game was intense, physically and mentally. Your hand held Lottes as you hoped for the win, gripping it tightly every now and then, excitement and anxiety floating through your body and mind.

The bench cheered at every opportunity, supporting the team. The same as the stadium did.

At halftime, it was still 0-0.

Sarina held her speech, talking about the weakness of Germany and what the girls could do better and then it was Leah’s turn. She held the speech of her life, encouraging every single one, showing love and passion towards every squad member. Her speech left you weak in your knees, mind on fire, goosebumps over your arms. You couldn’t wish for a better captain. Leah deserved this captaincy, she deserved every recognition she got because of the armband. Leah Williamson was born to be a leader - the best.

As the second half started, you were surprisingly calm, Lotte the one who gripped your hand or thigh to steady herself.

"TOONEY!" you shouted, jumping out of your seat in the 62 minutes as she chipped the ball over the German goalkeeper, Merle Frohms. "Hell, yes!!!!" the whole bench ran to the sidelines, celebrating as the stadium went crazy. Ella and her opening goals will always be your favorite goals. It was incredible.

Germany scored the equalizer.

It was your turn - Ellen got subbed off. As she jogged towards the line, you stood there, your nerves high. A few steps in front of you, she stopped, cupping your cheeks as she looked you in the eyes, "make this retirement game unforgettable" you couldn‘t even react. Retirement game, what? Dumbfounded, you looked at her, the striker kissing your forehead lovingly before she gave you a quick hug and walked towards the bench.

I will, i promise.

You didn‘t - extra time.

You desperately wanted to talk to Ellen but you couldn‘t. In the short break you had, Sarina gave instructions while some girls got their legs massaged.

Germany wanted to score.

England wanted to score.

Who will score?

Back on the pitch, your nerves were on fire. England had to win.

It was hard to say at least. Each mistake could cost you the win, so you did not let mistakes happens.

When Hemp stepped up to take the corner, you felt everything and so much more. It may be the best opportunity you would get - do something about it. As ball came flying in, it went over you. You didn‘t see who it went to, neither did you care. You prayed that it would just go in.

Nothing happened.

Until…

…the ball fell in front of your feet. Just one kick and it would be in. With no time to think, green shirts around you - you just did the thing Ellen always told you to „if it feels wrong to shoot - shoot"

you did.

And that’s when you heard the roars from the stands. The ball went in. Out of your shocked state, you ran - so many emotions filling your body.

You stopped running when you saw Ellen and the rest of girls shouting at the sidelines. Jumping on Ellen, you hugged her like your life depended on it, the team jumping on you, as well. It was a massive group hug - a moment forever to remember.

I promised I‘d make this unforgettable.

-

When the final whistle blew, you crashed down, euphoria rushing through your veins as happy tears streamed down your cheeks.

England had won.

The lionesses were european champions.

You were a european champion.

Everything felt wonderful.

The sun was shining, the fans were cheering, your team was celebrating.

This is it - this is England.

A body laid down next to you. You could tell who is was by the gentle touch that squeezed your hand.

Ellen.

It was a thank you,

I‘m so proud of you,

I’ll never forgot this moment.

So maybe it was the end of her career but it was the start of yours. Her legacy will live in your game, forever and longer.

——————

[blitzyn]

Can i get alhaitham with male reader. Haitham is jealous because reader have spent too much time with travelers. But one day haitham find reader getting hard and that there was a traveler picture there. Jealous + non con (but at the end reader like it) basically haitham being jealous and doing it rough.

my turn

alhaitham x m!reader

Synopsis: Alhaitham decides to avert your attention to him instead of the Traveler for once.

a/n -> I waited like an hour to finish the end and idk why. anyways sorry if its shit

wc -> 2.3ᴋ

cw -> non-con to dub-con, anal fingering, anal sex, jealous sex, ooc character???, idk tbh but hes kinda possessive i guess, not beta read

Alhaitham hadn’t seen you around your shared house as often as you used to. At first, he ruled it off as you being extremely busy with a project for the Akademiya, but as time went on and on, he began to suspect otherwise. His suspicions proved to be correct when he saw you fooling around (you really weren’t) with the famed Traveler. How you managed to befriend each other, he still doesn’t know. He didn’t mind it at first; after all, it meant peace and quiet, but it soon grew to bother him.

He knows he always seemed so annoyed with your constant bickering with either him or Kaveh, but the two of you have been friends for a while now. It irritated him to think that he spent quite a while dealing with your overly friendly attitude (that he’s beginning to enjoy, but he would never admit that) and now you’re throwing all your effort away for someone who’s going to leave Sumeru for who knows how long?

He sighed annoyedly, entering his shared home as he’s met with silence. It was something he’d always longed for now that you and Kaveh moved in, but he secretly wanted to hear a “hello” or something of the like from you. The blond was going to be out for a while as he went on another one of his journeys for creative inspiration, and you were most likely spending your time with the Traveler.

He instinctively thought back to the book he was currently reading as he quietly walked down the hallway towards his room. He suddenly stopped in front of your door when he heard a noise from behind it. He moved one side of his headphones off of his ear to listen closer, noticing more frequent but quieter sounds. Placing it back over his ear, he stared at the floor in contemplation. He could either walk in and pretend that he didn’t know what you were doing, or he could move onwards into his room.

He sighed. He hadn’t seen you in a while. He wasn’t sure when he would get another opportunity.

“Hey, I need you to-” He cut himself off, feigning surprise as he watched you panic on your bed.

“Knock next time you asshole!” You quickly placed a pillow over your crotch, legs curling defensively. Alhaitham noticed that you held a picture frame upside down on the pillow, and while he briefly wondered what was on it, he subconsciously had a feeling he knew who it was.

You swallowed nervously when he simply stared at you with an unreadable expression, face burning shamefully. He was at a loss at what to do now that he barged in your room. He internally scolded himself - he was never acting in the moment again. He bit the inside of his cheek. He might as well continue forward.

Your eyes widened in surprise when you watched as he closed the door behind him and walked towards you, still not saying a thing.

“H-Hey! Get out!” you exclaimed, clutching the pillow tighter against you.

“You know, it’s been a while since you last talked to me,” he said, resting a knee on the bed. He towered over you, and you had the mind to hide under your blankets.

“What?” You were very confused. “I thought you didn’t like it when I did?”

“O-okay, whatever,” you stammered, voice rising in discomfort and nervousness. “Can’t we talk about this a different time?”

“No, and I don’t like it when you speak. Your voice gives me a headache, but since you’ve been here for so long, it’s already become routine to hear you. And I don’t prefer it when my routines are interrupted.” 

You blinked owlishly, despite your predicament. Did he just… say that he wanted you around in his not-very-straightforward way? Well, he should’ve told you that before you started hanging out with the Traveler. Maybe then you’d given him more of your attention.

“Hey–what are you–get off!” you exclaimed as he tore the pillow away from your hands, revealing your semi-hard dick. You tried to cover yourself with your hands, but he simply restrained them with one of his. As you struggled, you couldn’t believe his strength. A mere Scribe, my ass!

“Don’t you think it’s my turn for you to give me a part of your day?” he questioned rhetorically, sliding you down the bed so he had enough room to pin your hands above your head.

“What do they have that interests you so much?” he asked, his free hand gently stroking your cock back to hardness. “Their looks? Their strength? How they saved Sumeru?”

“I helped out too, you know.” What has gotten into him?! First, he admits that he actually wants you around him, and now he’s trying to flaunt his contribution to the nation’s safety? This wasn’t the Alhaitham you knew! “If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have gotten half as far as they did.”

“Get off of–” You gagged when he suddenly shoved his index and middle fingers down your throat, silencing you. You shook your head in an attempt to get him away from you, but he simply held you by your cheeks with the remainder of his fingers.

He admired the way you choked and sputtered on his fingers, rubbing your tongue up and down. He moved them so that he was able to pull on your tongue a little, before spitting directly into your mouth. You looked shocked and a bit disgusted, but you couldn’t deny the way it made your dick twitch. He pushed your jaw closed.

“Swallow.” His voice held such an intensity to it you were unable to do anything but comply, watching as a faint smile formed on his face as he felt your throat bob up and down. He pried your thighs open with his legs, shoving a hand down your pants. You tensed when you felt one of his fingers prod at your hole, flinching when he pushed them inside.

You squirmed helplessly, uncomfortable with the way they so slowly moved inside you. You could feel him stretch you a little every so often, but it seemed as if he were searching for something. Suddenly, with a well-placed curl of his fingers, you arched your back and moaned.

“There, huh?” He continued to press against the spot over and over again, subconsciously speeding up as he watched your face contort in ecstasy. He committed the sight and sounds to memory, engrossed in every little twitch of your body. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he couldn’t help but imagine how good you’d feel once he pushed himself inside you. How your eyes would roll back, how you’d cry out for him so prettily. He groaned to himself.

He pulled his fingers out of you before you could cum and yanked your pants down. He flipped you onto your hands and knees. Your sensitive dick brushed against the covers of your bed and you were unable to hold back a pleased groan, nearly deciding to grind against the mattress. It was shameful how quickly he was able to stupefy you with merely a few strokes to your insides.

But you panicked as soon as he began to line himself up against your hole, reaching back to place a hand on his hip in an attempt to push him away.

“Wait–not there!” you cried out. “Y-You can use my mouth… or something…”

He looked at you with indifference in his expression. “Why not?”

“I’ve never… y’know…” you sheepishly trailed off, face burning in embarrassment.

“So why not lose your virginity now?” He couldn’t care less that you were practically melting on the spot, and, quite frankly, he was getting impatient.

“I’m not a virgin. I just wanted to…”

He stared at the back of your head intently, watching you tilt it forward to cover your face even if he already couldn’t see you. You refused to speak properly, but you had unintentionally given him your wordless answer. His eyes narrowed.

Even now, you were still thinking of the Traveler?

He sighed and rolled his eyes, annoyed. He swiftly reached for the picture frame he had accidentally tossed to the floor and leaned over you, placing a hand on your head. He pushed your face into the mattress as he propped the picture up right in front of you, gripping your hair tightly to pull you up enough so you would be able to see it. Your eyes widened as they were met with the photo of you and your blond(e) friend, and Alhaitham’s faint reflection in the glass.

“You wanted them to fuck you instead?” You tried to peer at him through the corners of your eyes. “I guess that’s a shame. This is the best you’re getting.”

You struggled to get up as he finally began to push inside you, though his hand firmly anchored you in place. You let out a muffled, strained groan as his cock spread you open, a burn accompanying the uncomfortable feeling. Tears pricked your eyes. It was hard to breathe, but as he buried himself deep within you, you fought from whining and moaning more than you already have. He reached spots you couldn't've gotten to on your own. You felt full.

You tightly held onto the bed sheets to ground yourself, swallowing nervously when the man behind you began gently rocking himself against you. You felt him pull out almost all the way before shoving himself back inside with a snap of his hips. He had one hand on the back of your head while the other one held your hip, digging his nails into your skin. He jolted you forward with every thrust and yanked you back to him, scratching you.

“You’re imagining them instead, huh?” He leaned forward, pressing himself harder against you. It was an unfamiliar feeling, jealousy. He supposed the only way he could describe it was the sensation of longing fueling the inferno that was anger and bitterness. He hadn't had the chance to find out what it felt like, since he preferred a simpler life. But ever since you and Kaveh moved in, he was given (forced, more like) the opportunity to feel something other than the peaceful monotony he so preferred. “But, let’s be real here.”

The fire of ecstasy burned intensely in your abdomen, his cockhead brushing up against your prostate. “Do you really,“ He groaned, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the most heavenly sound you’d ever heard. “think they’d have the time for you? You think they’d be able to make you feel good?”

You tried to speak, but he refused to allow it, pushing the lower half of your face into the mattress just a bit harder. You realized that even if he did give you the chance to talk, you wouldn’t have anything to defend yourself with. The Traveler was well-versed in battle, everyone knew that. Consequently, that  boundless knowledge sacrificed their time for anything intimate. You stared at the picture rocking back and forth in front of you. Alhaitham was right.

“I know what you like.” The tip of his dick pressed against your prostate fervently as the hand on your hip jerked you off in time with his relentless thrusts. “I know what you don’t like.” He slowed down, denying you of the addicting sensation of your orgasm.

He suddenly raised your head by your hair. You winced, your scalp stinging. “Do they even know your favorite color?”

You froze, trying to recollect a memory where you mentioned such a statement. Although that hesitancy gave him all the information he needed.

“Didn’t think so.”

He released his grip on your hair to place both of his hands on your hips, resuming his pace from before. Satisfaction filled his chest as he forced you to your revelation, watching your body tremble. He felt a faint smile lift his face when you finally started to let your moans out.

Skin slapping skin and moans filled the room, creating an erotic melody that would forever be ingrained in both of your minds. He held you tight enough to ensure bruises, but neither cared at the moment. His labored breaths mixed with your nearly shameless noises. He noticed you peering back at him over your shoulder, and the two of you stared at each other for a few moments before he leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss. It was messy and hasty, your drool smearing over yours and his lips even further.

He swiftly broke the kiss to litter bites and marks over your shoulders, wrapping a hand over your aching cock. He jerked you off in time with his thrusts, and you felt ready to burst right then and there. You fucked yourself back against his dick, trying to hasten your orgasm’s approach.

“Oh, fuuuck,” you drawled. “‘Haitham, I’m gonna… oh, god!”

You tightened around him as you came, your cum spurting over the bed and his fingers, staining the sheets. He lightly grunted and sighed in contentment as he followed soon after, hips slowing down and gently thrusting to ride out his high. He groaned into your ear which sent shivers down your spine, body trembling.

You stayed together for a few more seconds before he decided to pull out to clean the both of you. You laid on your side, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of your cum on your skin.

“Don’t leave, yet…” you muttered tiredly, watching as he shuffled around to briefly clean himself. He looked at you in question.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He sat on the bed. “But you need to clean yourself.”

“I’ll do it later…” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

“Don’t lay in your-” A slight grimace crossed his face before he sighed. He properly laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and back to bring you close to him. He had nearly forgotten how stubborn you were, but he knew that it was one of the very things that he liked about you, despite how much it annoys him. He momentarily wondered if you had any plans with the Traveler today, but quickly brushed the thought away with the reminder that they wouldn’t matter anymore.

He closed his eyes. Now you could redirect your focus onto him instead.

cross-posted on ao3