#i was watching this filler for the first time cause i jumped the fillers on my first naruto watch and GOD i was losing it

[hraishin]

you know what. naruto shippuden episode 241 did a great job as a filler with kakashi asking gai if something happened to him would gai run to him and gai answering "always" because watching this filler after watching the whole thing and knowing gai WILL run to kakashi during the war and save him from a killing blow from madara and then sacrifice himself to keep the people he loves (kakashi, lee, etc) safe makes me feel things in ways i cannot explain

[hees-mine]

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝟕

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warning: taboo relationship, lil angst, this is basically just a filler chap so nothing exciting sorry :/

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, taboo relationship, minors do not interact!

WC: 2,208k

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The day ended quickly for heeseung eight hours going by in a flash, and he was glad too cause he wanted to cook something special for his Sweetpea and her friends. On his way home, he stopped at the grocery store to get all the necessary ingredients for the meal. He then headed straight home and took a relaxing shower before starting dinner.

The house was unusually quiet, but he’s sure you and Sweetpea were both upstairs doing whatever young adult girls do.

He went on to prepare everything for dinner and store it in the fridge until later cause it was still quite early. Once that was finished, he plopped on the couch, turned on the TV, and grabbed his phone to order something since his lunch was quite small this morning.

Before placing his order, he heads upstairs to see if either of you is hungry. He knocks softly on the door and pokes his head inside, only to see you both lying side by side, fast asleep. He laughs silently and snaps a quick picture before going back downstairs, opting not to get anything since you both looked like you’d be out for a while.

He watches the TV while waiting for his food to arrive. Minutes pass by quickly, and soon, he gets an alert telling him his food is at the door.

He goes to the kitchen, grabs a drink for himself, and sits back on the couch to devour everything he ordered. It takes thirty minutes for it to arrive, only for it to be gone within five.

He sighs softly and sits back on the couch. Minutes later, his eyes start feeling droopy, and he takes a nap on the couch, hoping he won’t sleep for too long.

-

He woke up right on time, lucky for him. He sat up and noticed a blanket covering his body that wasn’t there when he went to sleep. He smiled to himself, knowing exactly who put it there.

Stretching out his long limbs he goes upstairs to freshen up and changed into something casual for dinner.

Going across the hall, he enters his daughter’s room without knocking, assuming you both were awake now. “Hey, sleepy head,” he teases and receives an exaggerated eye roll from his daughter. “I’m starting dinner, so you can call your friends over.” he chuckles and exits her room.

About an hour later, the boys arrived, and everyone was seated at the table. “Just in time,” Heeseung says while serving everyone. Just as he’s about to serve himself, Jake practically jumps out of his chair.

“Please, sir, have a seat.” he takes the utensils, beckoning for Heeseung to sit down.

“Jake, it’s fine. I ca-“Before Heeseung can finish, he gets interrupted.

“Not on my watch. Please allow me to serve you. I respect you, and it’d be an honor to do this for you.” Heeseung chuckles as he takes a seat and allows Jake to serve him.

Meanwhile, his friends are all silently laughing at him for his enthusiasm for the older males' validation. “Thank you, Jake,” Heeseung says once Jake sits back down.

Jakes's eyes twinkle as he looks at Heeseung in admiration. “Y-you’re welcome, sir,” he giggles, a wide smile spread across his face as he takes the first bite of dinner. “It’s delicious, sir. Thank you for the meal,”

Heeseung nods. “My pleasure,” and with that, everyone digs in, cleaning their dishes like it was the best thing they had ever tasted.

“May I have seconds?” Jay asked politely. Heeseung wasn’t bad at cooking per se, but he didn’t think he was that good at it.

“Of course,” Jay stands up, helping himself to seconds.

The whole dinner went by smoothly. Heeseung had learned more about Jay and Jake. He trusted them more than he did before. What could he say? He was protective of his girls.

Everyone was chatting away, laughing and sharing stories, and also talking about how their days were.

You kinda backed out of the conversation a while ago, awkwardly playing with your utensils. When the table got quiet enough, you spoke up, letting everyone know you were going home cause you felt sick. “I’ll see you tomorrow, guys,” You lied. You weren’t sick. You just couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as Heeseung. It was too awkward, especially cause he seemed so unfazed by your presence across from him.

Heeseung looked at you with concern, wondering if his cooking made you sick cause he’d feel so bad if it did.

“But y/n, it’s dark outside,” your friend says, already knowing you don’t have a ride home.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk,” You smile softly.

Jay and Jake immediately stand up, ready to escort you home.

“Ehh, thanks, guys, but it’s fine,” you decline, really just wanting to be alone right now cause you felt like crying any minute.

“Dad, you can drive her home?” Your friend suggested.

You felt like throwing up at the suggestion, but you were interested to hear what he’d say. You wonder if he’d happily take you or if he’d be annoyed and only do it for his daughter's sake. “It’s fine.”

“Since you’re not feeling well,” Heeseung says, wiping his mouth and standing up while beckoning the two boys to sit. “You should spend the night, and just in case it’s the flu, you can use the spare room,” he offers, and you hate how your heart fluttered from his kindness and his thoughtfulness. “You guys go play in the living room. I'll clean this up and show y/n the spare room.”

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll clean.” Jake stands immediately, and heeseung just sighs, allowing the boy to do what he pleases, still not understanding why he felt the need to be so helpful. He’s never seen a kid so enthusiastic about cleaning dishes.

Heeseung wanted to be mad at the boy, but he just couldn’t. Besides, he believed Jake was telling the truth about the incident he walked into a few days ago. At first, he thought Jake was just trying to get on his good side to redeem himself, but he could tell he was a genuine kid.

“Thanks, son,” Heeseung pats Jake on the shoulder, slightly smiling at the ecstatic look on Jake’s face from hearing him call him like that.

You smile at their interaction, finding it cute how much Jake looks up to Heeseung. You could tell why Heeseung was like the epitome of the perfect gentleman.

Heeseung’s gaze soon wanders to you, and your heart completely drops as he gets closer. You internally panic because soon it’s just going to be you and him all alone.

Silently, he walks upstairs with you trailing a good distance behind him, catching a whiff of the cologne that you loved so much. “It’s not great, but here it is,” he spoke to you for the first time tonight, revealing a small bedroom that was decorated minimally with basic essentials and a warm beige paint coating the walls, making it look homey.

“Thank you,” you whisper meekly, and he’s about to leave, but even after the conversation you both had last night, he still can’t help but feel himself being drawn towards you.

“You’re welcome, y/n.” he smiles warmly, tugging you inside the room with him. His hand automatically rests on your shoulder, turning your body so that you can face him.

You looked up at him through your lashes, blinking innocently at him as his thumb grazed your bottom lip, the scene feeling so familiar to the time when he caught you in the kitchen.

He leaned down slightly, his tall frame hovering over you, his lips just inches away, and your breath hitched in your throat.

He was so close to kissing you, but somehow, he managed to pull away just before your lips touched, leaving you disappointed and him confused.

He clears his throat softly and leans back a few inches, but he’s still rather close. “S-so, how are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

He doesn’t know why he’s acting nice; he should be giving you the cold shoulder. He should be upset with you, but he can’t cause he fucking loves you so much. Even if you hated him, he’d still love you cause that’s just how much you’ve grown on him in this short time span.

“No, this is fine, sir,” you add, trying to rile him, trying to get him to act on the desires that lie beneath his pretty brown eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathed out, hands going to your waist to pull you closer to his body. Just when you think he’s going to kiss you, he doesn’t. “No, we can’t do this.” he pushed you away, his chest heaving up and down, and he had to leave now before he stripped you completely naked and took you raw over and over again on the guest bed. “J-just come down if you need anything,” he says shakily and walks out, closing the door behind him and clutching his heart.

You lay down on the bed, sighing loudly to yourself, wondering how you managed to fuck things up with him.

But you know why you were too scared and selfish, and you chose what you thought was best without even telling him first, and you regretted it so bad, and now you have to suffer seeing him every time you come over, knowing you can’t have him.

The rest of the night, everyone played board games, having fun amongst themselves. After hours passed, they all decided to call it a night.

Heeseung gave the boys a ride home while his daughter went to sleep. He had to nearly pull Jake out of his car before he left, but overall, he had a fun night, and he was happy that he was liked and respected by your friends.

-

It was at least four am, and Heeseung was staring at the guest room door so drunk he could barely even stand, but somehow his brain could still register that the only thing between you and him was the guest room door.

He fixed that by twisting the knob entering the small room and coherently locking the door behind him. “Y/n,” he mumbled, getting closer to you on the bed. “Princess,” he stumbled slightly. Lucky for him, the bed was there to catch his fall. He pulled the covers back, getting inside the bed with you, and shaking your shoulder lightly to wake you.

You stirred in your sleep and soon woke up when you felt something on your shoulder. Your eyes adjusted a bit later, and you realized it was Heeseung, and he was lying in bed with you. “Heeseung?” You say, whispering confusedly.

“H-hold me, y/n,” he slurs his words, his eyes completely shut and his arms wide open, waiting for you to hug him. “Please,” he whimpers, and you don’t have the heart to reject him despite your friend being right across the hall. “Hmm, my princess,” he hums softly, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling into your sleepy frame.

“Heeseung, what if we get caught? And are you drunk?” You ask him the obvious; you could smell it all over him.

“I don’t care about anything anymore, just-just want you, my princess, and yes, I’m drunk, but even in my wrong m-mind, I still just want you. I love you so much.” he kissed your cheek softly. “You love me too, right?” He mumbled.

You contemplated answering him, and before he could hear your answer, he was fast asleep, snoring softly as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Yes, hee, I love you.” You kissed his forehead.

-

When he woke up, you were out of bed, but the first thing he noticed was his raging headache.

He sat up disoriented as he looked at his surroundings, wondering where he was until everything started slowly clicking together. “Oh shit,” he face-palmed himself and flopped on the pillows, your scent hitting his nostrils and making him feel like you were still there with him. It felt so good being in your arms again. How he wished he could go to sleep with you like that every night.

As he laid there, more memories of last night flashed into his head, and he remembered all the ramblings he said to you before he passed out, and he felt so embarrassed.

Not even a week ago, he was telling you to leave his room, and now he was literally crawling into bed with you, begging for your affection.

He quickly looked at the clock, seeing how late it was. It was too late to get to work on time, and his daughter was already at school hours ago, leaving him to stew in his own thoughts. “Fuck” he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow and inhaling your scent one more time before finally getting out of bed and getting himself together.

He made a mental note to apologize to you for his stupidity last night, and he hoped he hadn’t scared you off because he was going to try to win you over for the last time.

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Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic) Fem reader x Micheal ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Cursing, blood, death, child birth, drinking, alcohol, talks of war, guns, Tommy Shelby ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) ( Also Y/N is on dick, IDKY she acts like this)

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 

There is month and week time just in here, this is the only part where I would do that cause I had a lot to fit in. Because I had a lot of fit in, I have to add another part so too much won’t be going on all in one part. Also this is bit of a filler for that time jump from the end of season two to the beginning of season three

Part 1  Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  part 6

*******************************************

Although you didn't see Thomas again for nearly a year, you knew he was there watching you, keeping tabs on you. You had seen Arthur more than you had seen Thomas; he'd often come in, all cut up and in need of stitching.

 You still remember the first time you met Arthur; you were busy with a patient in one of the ER exam rooms when one of your fellow nurses slid back the curtain.

"Hi, excuse us. I need to borrow her for a second," She said, smiling towards the patient as she grabbed your arms, pulling you out and sliding the curtain back.

"What" 

"You've been asked for by name, exam room three. I'll take over here."

"Why, what's going on”You asked confused.

She shrugged her shoulders, 

 "All I know is that it's a peaky fellow, a Shelby, to be exact." 

She went back into the exam room, but you stood still. Thomas, he's here to see you? You were confused, if he wanted to meet, he could've just come to your apartment; he did know where you lived. 

Then it clicked ,he's hurt again; he has to be. 

You turned and started to walk down the hall towards the third exam room. Walked…. ran the same thing.

Soon, you were standing in front of the curtain to exam room three. You took a deep breath as you smoothed your outfit out. 

You don't know why you were so nervous to see him; you felt kinda silly; you had literally performed surgery on this man and dressed him.

 You shook your head, then quickly pulled back the curtain before you could change your mind. 

You’re puzzled because the man sitting in front of you is not Thomas Shelby. 

"Hi," you drew out, unsure who this man was and what he wanted with you.

"Oi, you the girl that took care of Tommy when he was here?" he asked, all chipper despite his ear being split, cuts on his face, and blood being littered all over his body.

You shook your head slowly, still unsure where this was going

"Tommy sent me here to get patched up; he said you were, uh, sympathetic to the cause." That made you laugh a bit 

"I guess I am; let's see what's going on here, Mr.Shelby." You stepped into the room, closed the curtain behind you, and went to the table to find some gloves.

"It's Arthur"

"Oh, Arthur, and who is Thomas to you again?" 

You pulled the stool underneath you as you began to clean the cuts on his face with some wipes. 

"He's my brother; I'm the oldest, then Tommy, and then John, and last Finn."

You made a face; you didn't know Thomas had a brother, let alone three; in all the stories you heard about Peaky Blinders, only Thomas had been brought up. 

You continued to clean Arthur up, and as you did so, you asked a million questions like where they grew up, how old they were, and how betting even worked. 

You have learned so much from Arthur in the past 30 minutes about the business and Thomas than you would have ever thought. 

Arthur was so talkative, he answered all your questions, he honestly was a bit too happy, you had assumed he was on something but wasn't sure. 

He had just gotten done telling you a story about when he and Tommy were younger when you finished his last stitch.

"It sounds like loads of fun," you said, cutting the string to the last stitch. 

"Yeah, it was different back then; Tommy was different back then. " 

You had wanted to ask what he meant, but he had gotten up before you could. He walked over to the mirror to look at his face; as he did so, you pulled some cream out of the draw for him. 

"Here, make sure you put this cream on so you won't scar." 

"Ahhh, thanks, Doc; Tommy told us whenever we need fixin' to come to you, and you didn't disappoint." 

"And how is Tommy? Is he all healed up?" Part of you just wanted to say his nickname out loud, and another hoped that Arthur would continue his over-sharing streak. 

"Yeah, all good; you know our Tommy strong as a horse," He said before walking away. 

You smiled and waved to him, watching him walk away. Our Tommy that made you giggle and smile like an idiot. You started to clean up your mess and wipe stuff down when you suddenly stopped, and your smile dropped. 

It had just dawned on you, but It was too late; he was far too gone when you realized. What did he mean by Tommy told us whenever they needed fixin' to come to you. You were hoping it didn't mean what you had thought, but it did. 

To say you were overworked was an understatement; you couldn't have imagined first how many men were peaky blinders and second how often they got hurt. 

Every time you turned around, your patient was a peaky boy, saying Tommy had sent them to get fixed up. Some of these men came into the hospital standing even though they had cuts the size of your arm on their bodies. They were bleeding out, but they remained calm like it was just another Tuesday, and soon, so did you because eventually, it was just another Tuesday. 

You and Arthur became close; you would even say you became friends. You saw him often; either he was in for himself, getting more stitches, or he was dropping off a person to get help. And on those sad, rare days, he was picking up a body, someone you couldn't save. 

You and Arthur talked a lot about everything and anything; you felt like his priest with the kind of things he confessed to you. How he felt the business was going, how he was still messed up from the war, how lonely he was. 

On those days, you would just listen to him talk and give him a hug after; you knew he needed it. Your relationship truly felt like brother and sister, and you couldn't have been more happy about it, seeing as you are an only child. 

Arthur and Thomas were the only Shelby brothers you had the pleasure of meeting. Polly and Ada, you have not, but Arthur said you shouldn't because they don't get involved in dirty business. Finn was far too young; he often just hung back, and Micheal Polly's son only handled legitimate business. 

So you were pretty shocked when you had been requested, and Michael Gray was behind the curtain. 

"You the peaky doc."  

"I am." You had tried to tell the boys that you were only a nurse, but none of them listed, so you just accepted the nickname.

He nodded and started to take his shirt off; he had bruises and cuts all over his body. One big cut on his stomach and one on his forehead; that's the ones you will be focusing on. You put your gloves on and got to work; you cleaned the cut on his stomach a bit before starting your stitches.

Your head was down the whole time you stitched him, but you still knew he was staring at you; you felt it, and the way he looked down at you made you slightly uncomfortable. 

Once you finished the stitches, you stood up from the stool, making you come face to face with him.

His eyes were quite different from Tommy's; you didn't know yet if it was in a good way or bad.

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, then looked down at your name tag before looking back up at you.

"Can I smoke in here?"

"Sure, and do you mind if I stand right here? It's the only way I can reach," you said, pointing to in between his legs. 

He took a long drag of his cig before responding, "Whatever you want, doc."

Even from this position, you had to stand on your toes; he was pretty tall. You were pulling a stitch through when you almost fell, but Micheal had placed his hand on your back, keeping you upright. 

You cleared your throat. "Thanks" 

He just nodded at you with his hand still on your back

"Tommy pays your rent, right? I've seen your name in the books."

"Yeah" 

"I always had thought he did that cause you to stitch the boys up with no questions asked and no coppers involved." 

You just smiled back, unsure what to say 

"But now I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean"

At this point, you were on your last couple of stitches 

"You have your own protection detail; he sends his most important men to you, and he pays your rent."

You knew about the rent and never paid much mind to why Tommy started sending his men; you'd just assumed that it was your payment for free rent. A protection detail, though, you were confused; Micheal had to be mistaken. You'd never seen anyone following you, or maybe that was the point. 

You tied the thread before cutting it,  all while Micheal's hand remained behind your back; you looked down at him and asked. 

"Why"

He shrugged his shoulders, taking one last drag before putting the cig out on the tray behind you.

He blew his smoke to the side before saying, "Tommy takes care of his own; he protects what's his." 

You were stunned, but Micheal didn't allow you to process. He stood up, putting on his shirt before walking towards the door.

"Thanks, doc," he yelled as he left

You smiled and nodded back before turning around and cleaning up.

Had you really made that much of an impression on Tommy, you were confused and stuck, your mind racing to solve this riddle. If you had left such an impression, why hadn't you seen him in weeks? Not even so much as flowers or Arthur playing playing messenger, nothing. Micheal had to be wrong. 

But what if he wasn't? What angle was Tommy playing? What was his end goal? 

Your head was starting to hurt, maybe cause you were tired or cause your brain had been overworked trying to figure out what this man wanted from you. You decide to go back to work cause, whatever was happening, you wouldn't figure it out.  

*******************************************

It had been a little over nine months after your visit from Micheal that you saw Tommy again. 

You had been requested at his house, Arthur came and got you. This house wasn't in Birmingham it was nice and big, a mansion. You knew why you were here. Arthur had been keeping you up to date with all the Tommy and Grace drama. After Arthur told you about Grace and her and Tommy's Past and present, you knew that Micheal was wrong. 

He couldn't have been more wrong cause here you are, arriving at Tommy's house about to see him for the first time in a year to help deliver his baby.  

"There already a doctor there, you say," you asked Arthur as he helped you out of the car. 

"Yes, Tommy said he still wants you there, though."

You didn't understand why you had to be there if a doctor was already there, someone who has had more schooling than you and should hold more knowledge. 

Arthur had led you through the house, at first he got lost, it was a big house, but soon he found his way and plus it wasn't hard you just followed the screams and cursing. 

You should have braced yourself before entering the room, but you had thought you would be fine; you weren't.

As soon as you opened the door, all eyes were on you, including Tommy's, his eyes which you hadn't seen in so long; they were so intense. 

He was standing next to Grace, who was lying on the bed; he was holding her hand, blood smeared on his shirt. Two women were on the opposite side of him next to Grace, two women you assumed to be Polly and Esme. 

You kind of just stood there, unsure of what to do and a bit scared. Grace's head popped from behind the doctor who stood in between her propped-up legs. 

"Arthur, would you shut the door" Grace yelled

He laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't see anything, Tommy; go on, Doc." He gave you a push as he shut the door. 

"Umm, where can I help?" you asked, and it was clear that you were nervous, but you hoped they thought it was because of the situation and not because of what it actually was, Tommy.

"The doctor is saying the baby is trying to come out feet first and that he must cut her open. Polly and Esme say that the baby can be turned, and if she is cut, she will bleed out." Thomas said as he rubbed his face; he was trying to hide it, but you could tell he was nervous.

"OK, OK, OK, Excuse me, I need to assess Grace to see which option is better." You placed your bag down and pulled out some gloves before approaching Grace.

"OK, Grace, I'm just going to see where the baby is at," You said as you reached up in her cervix, checking for the baby, and it was trying to come out feet first. You pulled out of her before speaking again.

"OK, Grace, the baby is coming feet first, but it's still far up, so I think we have a good chance at turning it around. It will be painful, but it's better than cutting you open and risking you bleeding out."

"Well, I can't do that, and I still believe that a c-section is the way to go; I've done many and have had many successes." The doctor tried to argue, but you knew that the risk of her bleeding out was higher than her not. 

"I can do it. Trust me, Grace, I can do it."

"Are you even a doctor?" the doctor asked. 

"No, but that doesn't matter. Grace, what do you want."

Graces looked between you and the doctor before looking up at Thomas, who was looking at you. And for the first time since you stepped into this room, you looked at him in the eyes. You nodded slightly, telling him you had this; he stared at you a little longer before telling you to go ahead. 

You got right to work pushing on Grace's stomach, pushing the baby's head, and slowly turning the baby. She screamed in pain, and Thomas held her hand, encoring her along; after 30 minutes, you finally got the baby in the correct position. You would’ve let Grace take a much-needed break, but she said she felt the need to push and couldn't hold back. 

"OK, Grace, that's fine. Push." You got back between her legs and sat on the stool at her feet.

It only took two pushes, and the baby was out, but It wasn't breathing; you panicked, and everyone looked at you scared. Except for Thomas, he looked at you in a way you can't describe as anything other than murderous. 

You held the baby in your hands, quickly walking over to the dresser and placing the baby down before grabbing the suction ball from your bag below you. You sucked the goo from the baby's mouth and throat and ran your knuckles across his chest. 

The baby still didn't cry out, and you were nervous. Had you pushed on its head too hard? You had never done it yourself, only seen it done, but-

The baby coughed and let out a cry; relief flooded your body, and tears slipped from your eyes. You cleaned the baby before turning around and walking over to Thomas.

"Here you go, Mr.Shelby, a beautiful, healthy baby boy." 

For the first time ever, you saw Tommy smile, like a full ear-to-ear smile, as you handed him his son. You smiled to yourself before stepping away and collecting your things. You looked at the doctor who stood in the corner, flipping him off before saying.

"You can handle the rest, right, or do you need help with that too?" 

He rolled his eyes at you before walking to Grace to clean her up.

You opened the door and saw Michael, Arthur, who you assumed to be John and Finn, and many more waiting outside the door.

"Grace is fine." 

"And," Arthur asked. 

"And it's a- " 

"It's a boy," Thomas said, interrupting you, you turned around, and he was standing right behind you. 

"Congratulations," You said to Tommy. 

"Thank you," he said back before he got rushed with a bunch of hugs.

You went down the steps, deciding to wait for Arthur outside, and truth be told, you needed some air not only because of Tommy but also because that was the most ballsy thing you had ever done in your career. You just delivered a baby, all on your own. 

You weren't waiting on the steps outside long when you heard the door open, and you stood up, brushing the dirt off yourself, slowly turning around.

"I thought you had gotten lost again. Arthur thought I had to come to find yo-"You stopped your sentence abruptly, seeing as Arthur wasn't the one standing in front of you.

"Micheal, where's Arthur?"

"I had asked him if it was alright if I took you home." 

"Oh, OK, let's go," You said before hopping in the car, with Micheal right behind you, sliding next to you in the driver's seat.

The drive back was quiet, and soon you were back at your house; you hopped out of the car and walked towards your apartment building, Micheal right behind you.

"You don't have to walk me to my door, Micheal; I'll be fine."

"Who am I to defy orders?" 

That made you stop and turn towards him. 

"You’re wrong, Tommy's with Grace. We're friends; he has no feeling like that towards me."

"You sure about that" 

"I just delivered his baby, Micheal."

"Exactly," he said, then turned around and left. 

You walked into your building and up the steps to your apartment; you stood at the door searching for your keys and became frustrated when you couldn't find them. You threw your bag at the door, making everything fall and spill across the floor. 

You took a deep breath before squatting down, picking everything up, and putting them back; your keys had also been on the ground. You grabbed them and unlocked the door, walking in and shutting it behind you.

You walk over to your bed and jump in it; you don't even have the energy to change. You were so tired, and your head hurt trying to figure out what Micheal got from playing with your head like this. 

You wouldn't even let yourself go down the guessing road; he was with Grace, and that was final. They were apart and came back stronger than ever; their love was fairy-tale-like. 

You couldn't help yourself, though; a small part of you still thought, 

What if.

********************************

Months have passed since you last seen Tommy since you delivered his baby. You haven’t seen him, but you know he was keeping tabs on you. You also started to see Arthur less; he was a changed man so he says. He met a new dime, Linda. You’re not going to lie, you don’t like the bitch, but Arthur does, and seeing as he has stopped the fighting, drinking, and even snow, you’ve decided to let it go. 

You still see peaky boys, though; they have become a part of your day-to-day life. You can’t remember the last time you had a regular patient or even a day off. And you needed a day off, you barely sleep cause of all the doubles you’ve been pulling at the hospital, and you never go out anymore. You honestly don’t remember the last time you got laid.

It’s been a while. 

So that’s why you decided to take the day off and to take up one of the doctors at the hospital's offer to go out.

You honestly didn’t care where the doctor took you or what y’all talked about; you had one goal tonight: getting laid.

You were ready to go out, sitting at your kitchen table bucking your shoes, when you heard a knock on your door. He was early, but you were ready, so it was fine. You walked over to the door, a smile taking over your face. You opened the door and were immediately pushed out of the way as someone invited themselves into your home.

“ Um, excuse me,” you said, turning around to meet the stranger.

Only it wasn’t a stranger. It was Tommy

And he wasn’t alone; he had his son in his arms.

“What's wrong?” You asked, rushing over to them. 

“ he fell. I was changing him, and he fell, and he cried and cried, but then he just stopped.” He was pacing your living room with the baby still in his arms.

You slowly approached him. 

“ It’s ok, Tommy, babies aren’t glass, ok. Every kid has been dropped on their head, I’d reckon Arthur, more than once.”

You got him to stop pacing with your words, but he still held the baby in a death grip.

“ Let me see him, Tommy; everything going to be fine, just let me see him.” You spoke as softly as you could as you stood before him, placing your hand on his shoulder. 

He looked up from the baby to look at you; you nodded as you placed your hands under his to take the baby from his hands. He slowly let go of the baby, releasing him to you. Once you fully secured the baby, you held him close as you walked over to your med bag at home. You fetched out your stethoscope and put it on before listening to the baby’s heart rate and breathing; you then checked his pupil reaction with your small flashlight. 

The baby seemed fine; Tommy probably put the baby to sleep by rocking it for so long, that’s why it probably stopped crying. 

“ Your baby’s fine, no signs of brain damage; he is just sleeping. That’s why he stopped crying,” you said, walking back over to him, and handing him back his baby.

You could see his body ease up slowly as he rocked the baby back and forth. 

“ Did you drive here, or” you trailed off

“ Yeah, but my car ran out of petrol; I’ve sent Curly to get me some more.” 

You nodded slowly; you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do next.

“ Do you have a quiet place where I can put him down?” 

“ Yes, my bedroom, it's over there,” You say, pointing towards the back of the room.

Tommy walks back towards your room, and you just stand there, uncertain what to do in your own home. He came back soon and started to head towards a seat in your living room and to make things less awkward, you took a seat across from him in the other chair. 

“ Can I smoke in here?” 

You nodded to his question; he pulled out his cigarette holder and took one before offering you one.

“ Oh no, I don’t smoke,” you said, making him make a face.

“ I only smoked that one time cause I was a bit stressed.”

He just nodded at you, lighting up his cig and taking a drag, and y’all just sat there; honestly, how long does it take to get some petrol. You couldn’t be this still any longer. You had to get up.

“ Would you like something to drink?” You asked, walking over to your drink table.” Whiskey fine?” you asked, even though you knew that’s all he drank 

You turned back to see him nodding his head, so you continued to ask, “ Brown or white?”

“ Brown” 

You poured the both of you a cup, filling yours up a bit more than his; you would need the whole bottle if he stayed any longer. You walked over to him, handing him his cup before sitting back in your seat. The silence followed again shortly after, and it was killing you; he had finished his cig, and you had finished your glass; you were seriously thinking about getting that petrol yourself. 

“ You were a nurse in the war? “ Tommy asked, pointing towards your medals on the shelf above your fireplace.

“ Yes, I was stationed in France, you? “ 

 You already knew the answer, though, cause of Arthur

“ Yep, I was in France, tunneler.” he finished his drink before continuing, “You kept your medals?” 

Even though he didn’t phrase it like a question, you still knew he was asking why you had kept them.

This question caught you slightly off guard, but you knew most people around here threw theirs into the cut as a fuck you to the king for the way they were treated when they got back.

“ You mean, why didn’t I throw them in the cut like everyone else?” You asked as you got up, getting his cup and you for a much-needed refill. “ I don’t see them like how you might; I see them as my team telling me good job and not the king. My team nominated me for the medal, not the king.” 

He nodded, slowly taking his drink back and sipping before asking you another question. 

“ And the war,” he cleared his throat, “is it still with you.”

You didn’t know why he was asking you all these questions, but you didn’t mind answering them. The more you talked about your experience, the easier it was to continue your life and leave the war in the past.

“ Honestly, there must be something wrong with my brain because no matter how hard I try to think back, I can’t remember half of the things that happened.” You let out a slight chuckle as you spoke. 

“Nothing, eh?” 

“ Well, not nothing; I remember why I was nominated for that medal.” You paused, unsure if you should tell this story. Men like Tommy don’t often reminisce about their time in France. But Tommy tipped his glass towards you, encouraging you along.

“ Ok, umm, my group and I had been relocated closer to the battlefield; we were located where fighting had taken place and tunnels dug. So there were a lot of caved-in holes and shells everywhere, but they said they had swept the area, and there were no bombs or anything. Nightfall came, and we were all set up; everyone but the guards were asleep. I couldn’t, though; I could hear the fighting going on in the distance. And even though it was really dumb, I went for a walk. I just couldn’t keep still and didn’t want to wake up the others.” 

You looked down and realized that you had finished your drink, so you got up to get some more; you went over to the drink table but didn’t pour anything. Instead, you just leaned against it before turning back to face Thomas. 

“ I was walking, and um, I tripped, fell right on my face. I had dropped my flashlight, hitting the ground must have turned it off. So I reached around looking for it, and that was when I touched something, but it wasn’t my flashlight; it was my hand. I panicked and backed up as quickly as possible and ended up finding my flashlight. I quickly turned it on and saw a hand sticking up from the mud, almost like it had broken through. I was trying to calm myself down when I saw the hand twitch; I had assumed the guy was dead. Next thing I know, I’m on my hands and knees digging through the dirt, and it seemed like no matter how fast and hard I dug, dirt kept refilling up the hole.” Tears started falling from your cheek, but you wiped them quickly, not wanting to cry in front of Tommy.

“ I uhh eventually was able to dig his head out, then shoulders and then I was able to pull him out, he wasn’t breathing, so I began CPR and mouth to mouth, the mud got all in my mouth cause his face was caked with it, but I didn’t care. Finally, after five minutes, he began coughing and gasping for air; I pulled him up into my lap, propping him up a bit, hoping that would help. Then he opened his eyes. He had tried to speak, but he just kept saying the same thing over and over again; he wasn’t making any sense. I told him he should save his strength, which made him quiet down. And so we just laid there for a bit, with him in my lap holding onto my arms; he just looked at me, and I looked at him. He eventually remembered that other men were still down in the tunnels, and thankfully, the tunnel hadn’t fully clasped. Together, we dug them out and helped them back to camp. They were all too badly injured for us to help, so they were driven to the nearest hospital.” 

You had walked over to Thomas, picking up his cigarette holder, taking one, and lighting it up. Tommy took notice but didn’t say anything. 

“ Soon after I was nominated for the award, the soldiers I had saved and the nurse in my unit nominated me. And the rest is history.” You took a couple more puffs of the cig before putting it out on the table since you didn’t have an ashtray. 

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but there was a knock at the door; you walked over to it, opened it, and was greeted by Curly.

“ Tommy, I’ve got the petrol for you and filled your car; it's all ready to go.”

You turned to face him, smiling, before heading to your room to pick up the baby. You brought the baby out to Thomas, placing him in his hands.

“ Welp, this has been fun, but I’m tired, and this little one needs to get home. See you, Tommy.” 

He said your name, tilting his head down before leaving your apartment.

 You have never told that story to anyone before; it brought up a lot of emotions, more than you expected. It had felt good telling that story, though, especially with a person who also served, who might have understood where you were coming from. 

You had washed up and changed your clothes; the Whiskey made your eyes feel heavy, and you practically had to drag yourself to bed. You did make it, though. You got under the covers all warm and cozy, and you were about to fall asleep when you suddenly realized, 

You never went on your date.

********************

You wish you could say the next time you saw, Tommy was as pleasant as the last.

You had a late shift at the hospital tonight.

You walked into the hospital late, around 8:00 p.m. The air felt good, and you had been inside all day at home, so you decided to walk to work; it wasn’t far. You had run into a friend at the door and were walking in together. She was talking to you about her lazy husband, but as soon as you entered the hospital, you had tuned her out. You heard a voice screaming in the distance; you knew that voice. You started running in the direction the voice was coming from, leaving your friend without a goodbye.

It felt like you were running in slow motion; the hallway was getting longer and longer, and you thought you would never get to the end. 

When you finally reached the end, you stopped and scanned the room. Tommy was being held back by multiple guards and doctors, Polly and Linda were screaming at the nurses, Arthur had been pressed to the floor, and John was against the wall. 

“ Mr.Shelby, if you don’t calm down, we will have to put you out,” one of the nurses said, trying to get him to calm down, but that only made him more mad.

The nurse screamed as Tommy held a gun to her face. “ I’m sorry, what was that? hmm” 

You had rushed over, placing yourself in between the gun and the nurse, 

“ Tommy, Tommy, look at me. What's wrong? Tell me how I can help.”  

His breath was coming out shaking. He waved the gun to the side, trying to tell you to move, but you didn’t; he did it again, and you still didn’t move.

“ Move!” he yelled. 

“ No, Tommy, what’s wrong?” 

He yelled out in frustration, then put the gun back in his holder. He turned around walking away from you, putting his hands on top of his head. 

“ Talk to me, please, Tommy.” You begged 

You blinked and suddenly he was in your face, he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. He squatted down to your eye level before pointing his arm out in no particular direction, his mouth opened and closed, as he struggled to find the words.

“ Them fuckers shot Grace, and now these doctors won’t let me see her.”

“ Ok, I will go check on her, okay, but you can’t threaten them; they’re just doing their job.”

“ Ok, Tommy,” he nodded slowly back at you. 

“ Ok,” he whispered.

You turned to the nurse you had protected earlier. 

“ Take them to a private waiting room, please.” She nodded, whispering a small thank you as you walked towards the surgical wing. You were about to walk through the door when you had been tugged back; it was Tommy.

“ I got her, Tommy, I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting go. 

You pushed through the door to the surgical wing and started to run; you weren’t sure which room she was in, so you checked every single one, busting through the door and looking at the person on the table. You have reached the last surgery room with no luck so far. Grace had to be in this room; it was the last one. You opened the door, saying a slight prayer.

“ Time of death 10:55” 

You tried to talk, but the words got trapped in your throat; you felt it sitting there, causing your throat to burn as you struggled to breathe. Tears began falling down your face as you fell against the wall, feeling too weak to stand alone. This wasn’t supposed to happen; this isn’t how things were supposed to go. 

“ No,” you sobbed out.

“ No, no, no, no, no, what did you do?” you screamed at the Doctor.

You pushed yourself off the wall, walking over to Grace; you touched her arm, and she was still warm. You looked up at the Doctor; it was Dr.Brown.

“ What did you do? The shot was to the fucking shoulder; what - did - you - do” 

He just stared at you, not answering you. You looked around the room, and everyone was staring at you. You went around the table and pushed Dr.Brown against the wall; you didn’t know what you were doing; you didn’t know what you wanted from him.

“ Do you think you could tell Thomas for me?” his voice was shaky. 

You let go of him, walking backward. You stared at him in disgust, and then you started to laugh. 

It was an eerie laugh; you were practically choking on it. You wiped the tears and snot from your face with the back of your hands.

“You want me to tell him that you killed his wife because you don’t want him to smell the alcohol on your breath 'cause you want to live right.” 

The Doctor stared at you with his mouth gaping open like a fish; you even saw his eyes start to fill up with tears.

“ Oh, don’t worry, I’ll tell him, and when he’s in the right mind, I’ll tell him that you’re a drunk and you killed his wife.” 

You walked out before he could spill some bullshit to you. 

You wanted to walk slowly and drag your feet, but you knew better.

You’ve lost patients before and family, but it didn’t feel like this. You’ve never felt like this; you never felt so responsible for someone's death. 

You know that there was no way you could have stopped it, and there was no way you could have known. But what if, what if you called a taxi instead of walking? What if you told the police about the Doctor's drinking. So many moments played through your head, so many moments you wished you changed because somehow this feels like your fault. You knew that. Dr. Brown was a drunk; you should have fought harder with the hospital board. You should’ve- 

You stopped cause; deep down, you knew there was nothing you could have done. There is no way you could have saved Grace. 

You approached the private waiting room and stood there for a second to gather yourself. This death isn’t yours to cry for; it’s theirs. You wiped your tears and snot on your shirt; you cleared your throat and took a deep breath.

You pushed open the door and entered the room; they all stood when you entered, except for Tommy, who already standing cause he had been pacing. You looked around the room. Every single person's eyes were on you, waiting for you to speak; it was so quiet, no one made a sound.

“ So,” Tommy’s voice cracked as he spoke.

You took a deep breath before you tried to speak, and you tried, you really did, but you couldn’t keep it together. A sob left your mouth before you could stop it.

This caused Polly to bring her hand to her mouth as she fought back her tears.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before trying again.

“ I’m s-so sorry, Tommy; when I got there, she was already gone. There was nothing I could do.” Your voice grew horse as you spoke, and your throat burned as your fought back tears.

“No,” he whispered. 

“ Tommy”

“NO!” he shouted before throwing the chair across the room.

Polly started telling everyone to get out and give him some space, but you stayed. You knew the last thing he needed was to be alone with his thoughts.

Everyone had left, and it was just you two alone. 

He had stopped throwing things and rested his head against the wall.

“ Get out” 

“ No,” you said, walking over to him, 

You had placed your hand on his shoulder, but it was only for a second cause soon he had flipped you, and now you were against the wall. He held a tight grip on your shoulders, keeping you bound to the wall. His eyes started directly into yours, and even though he appeared mad, his eyes showed he was hurt. 

He pushed you deeper into the wall. “Why didn’t you save her?” You heard the pain in his voice as he spoke. “You saved me; you brought me back to life; why couldn’t you save her? Why couldn’t you bring her back.” He whispered out

You just stared at him; you were speechless. 

Then it finally happened: he broke down; you put your arms around him as he slowly fell to the ground, with you falling with him.

You held him in your arms as he cried; his grip on your arms kept tightening as if you would let him go. You hadn’t planned on it; you would hold him till he asked you to let go. You’d lay here as he slept if he needed you to. 

He needed you, and you were going to be there for him. 

[moody-alcoholic]

Fluff 141 fishing in Scotland.

I have a bunch of archived/ removed parts I wrote for my fic that I felt didn't fit. I'll turn some of them into oneshots. Like this one enjoy.

Summary: 141 go fishing. No content warnings, SFW, fluff/ filler content. 1.1k words.

I love making my OC have happy moments before I emotionally destroy her in the next chapter.

Enjoy <3

Give anyone from 141 a weapon and they’re right at home. A missile launch system or a bomb to defuse and it’s no problem. But trying to teach them to fish, the look on their confused faces as I try to explain good throwing techniques is almost too funny.

“Look it’s not that hard.” I say attaching the bait onto the hook. I walk down to the waters edge. I found the most beginner friendly rods I could, so it would be easier for them. Gaz and Price stand next to me.

“You don’t need to throw it too far, the loch is deep and the fish come right up.” I step aside from Gaz and look behind me. Simon is sat on one of the folded out chairs, drinking a beer. I smile at him. I throw the rod over my shoulder and let the hook travel. It lands about 50 meters from me. I place the rod down in the stand and turn to watch Gaz and Price.

“What just throw it over our shoulders then let it go?” Gaz asks. I nod enthusiastically. He takes a step back and throws it. It lands about 30 meters in and he looks at me for approval. I smile and he places it down on the stand going over to sit with Simon.

“Come on Price!” Simon shouts chuckling. “You should be good at this a few more years till you retire you’re going to need a hobby.” I hear Gaz laugh I can’t help but smile. Price looks back at them.

“Okay then watch this.” He says as he expertly throws back the line and lets it fly out into the loch.

“Cheeky bugger.” I say scoffing as he pulls the line back a bit and rests the rod in the stand.

“Hey that's cheating you didn’t say you knew how to fish.” Gaz says pointing at him as he walks over to us reaching down for a beer. I laugh.

“If you catch your fish first you can still win.” I say reaching into the cooler by Simon. I take out a beer opening it and turn looking back out at the loch. It was early evening and the sun was just touching the top of the trees in the distance. I took a deep breath in feeling my lungs fill with the cool Scottish air. I jump when I feel Simon's arms wrap round my stomach and he pulls me down onto his lap. I almost spill my beer lifting the can to my mouth to avoid it spilling on my clothes.

“Did you ever bring Johnny fishing?” Gaz asked.

“All the time,” I smiled rolling my eyes thinking back to me dragging him down here come rain or shine. “He liked to make my lures.” I feel sad all of a sudden, Simon grips me tighter, I feel him kiss my neck.

“Did he ever catch anything bigger then you? I need to know what the competition is like.” Price says teasing me.

“No.” I say back. Gaz leans forward looking at me squinting.

“I think she’s lying.” He says. I push his shoulder laughing. Price moves to look at me better taking a sip of beer.

“Na she’s telling the truth.” I shake my head chuckling, taking another drink of my beer.

“What do you think Simon you’re the expert?” Gaz says leaning back in his chair laughing. Simon pulls me back and looks at my face, I look in his eyes, the sun reflecting off them making them look almost orange.

“Increased heart-rate, dilated pupils. I’d say she’s lying.” I open my mouth in disbelief, shaking my head as he lets me sit back up.

“Drinking also causes that.” I say holding up the beer to Price and Gaz defending myself. They laugh.

“How big was it?” Price asks. I sigh rolling my eyes.

“13 kilos.” I say defeated. There is no way they could catch one that big now though, its not the right season. The jingle of rod stand goes off. I look over it’s mine and Price’s rod. I look at him.

“Hey don’t let her go LT!” He says putting his beer down. I feel Simon pull me back onto his chest as I fight to get out. I hear Gaz burst into laughter as I watch Price get closer to his rod.

“Let me go Simon!” I shout. I can feel his laughing on my back I can’t help but laugh too. As soon as Price picks up his rod Simon lets me go. I rush over to mine reeling it in. I’ve definitely got something it’s heavy, it’s fighting my pull.

“Loser gets dunked in the loch!” I shout to Price.

“Get ready to get wet then Williams!” He shouts back. I laugh pulling my rod as hard as I can. I keep glancing over to Price I see the struggle on his face as he fights with his rod. Shit whatever he has must be big too. I feel my rod get easier to pull I must only have a few meters left. I hear Gaz and Ghost come behind us. I give it one last big yank and step back I feel Simon behind me he grips my arms. I bend down grabbing the fish holding it under it’s mouth as it flaps around. I look at Price he is bending down too he stands up showing me the fish. His is bigger then mine just looking at it.

“Compensating for something?” I ask.

“Very funny Williams.” He says. Gaz comes over with the scale. He takes Price’s fish first hooking the fish's mouth and letting it hang.

“8.2.. No wait 8.5.” He says. I hear Simon clapping behind me.

“Who’s side are you on?” I say as Gaz comes over to me and I hand him the fish. He hooks it on the scale I hold my breath. I cannot see the numbers. Gaz smiles.

“9 kilograms.” He says.

“Yes!” I scream jumping in the air I hug Simon he chuckles and squeezes me. I break from his arms and look at Price.

“Oh I’m so throwing you in the loch,” say taking a step towards him. I see genuine fear in his eyes for a second. He holds his hands up.

“Hey Williams I’m your boss I order you to stand down.” I laugh and rush after him. He turns and sprints back towards the chairs. I grab my stomach, laughing harder then I have in months. I feel Gaz put his hand on my back. I stand up wiping the tears from my eyes the beer making my head swim. I look over at Simon as he comes over to me and puts his arm round my waist. I lean into him wrapping my arms around him. This was nice, and now we had fish for tea.

AO3, link coming soon.

Biased on this fic.

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Eleven I Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warning: Jealousy, Zava smh, some angst

A/N: Meaty chapter. Some filler stuff tho. But It'll pick up soon!

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

We set this whole thing up for Zava’s arrival. With press and the whole team there but he never showed. We are all sat waiting in the sun for him for well over an hour. Ted sent us all back to the locker while he went to discuss with Rebecca. I sat in my chair that I’d brought out from the office, spinning absentmindedly as the boys chatted.

            “Hey, did Zava come through here?” Ted walked into the room, causing me to stop my spinning.

            “What? No,” I answered, rising out of my chair. “Did you see him?”

            “Yeah, he was upstairs just a second ago.”

Great, so now we had a random superstar football player wandering around the building. I slumped back into my chair as the boys began to figure out how they would find him. I turned to look at Jamie who looked just as disgruntled as me. I shrugged at him, trying to find some levity in the situation but Jamie just crossed his arms and shook his head.

Then my eyes wandered to the doorway where, lo and behold, Zava appeared. A hush fell over the room as he sauntered in, all eyes watching to see what the man would do next. He took a deep inhale, then exhaled just as deeply.

            “I will begin by address the most important person in this room,” Zava announced. The boys hung on his every word, hoping that somehow, they would be the most important person in the room. “Which of you is the kitman?”

I saw Will’s eyes practically bug out of his head as he jumped up from the back of the group.

            “That’s me! Uh… I’m Will,” He stutted out. “Uh, I am…”

            “Will,” Zava addressed. “I too worked as a ball boy for a club when I was just 11 years old.”

            “I’m 25”

            “Your passion… is why I play,” Zava breathed out. I rolled my eyes and shot Jamie a glance. He was giving me the same incredulous smile that I had. I was glad at least one other person in the room was finding the humor in this situation. I let out a scoff at Jamie’s face.

Unfortunately, my scoff seemed to gain the attention of Zava as he turned to face me.

            “Any you,” He knelt down in front of me, taking my hand in his. “You are a warrior. I pledge my allegiance to you, my queen.”

            “Oh… uh…. Thanks?” I wasn’t quite sure how to respond when a grown man pledges his allegiance to you.

            “Your bravery and determination know no bounds.” He brought my hands up and place a kiss on each palm. “Lead me down your path.”

I gave him a tightlipped smile as he nodded at me. He finally let go of my hands and walked back to address the team. I sat there, still in shock at the interaction. I looked over at Jamie again, expecting to laugh things off with him but he wasn’t laughing, in fact all the humor in his face had left.

The coaches left the locker room to go discuss our strategy with Zava. As we did, I looked over at Jamie one last time who was untying and retying his shoes, refusing to even look my way. I groaned internally, now I’d have that to deal with when I got home.

Training was fine for the rest of the day. The boys were buzzing thinking about Zava. I stood next to Roy as we watched them run their drills.

            “I just don’t get it,” I said to Roy, arms crossed in front of me. “I mean he’s a good player yeah, but we have plenty of great players on the team. O’BREIN IF I SEE YOU CUT A CORNER AGAIN, I’LL CHASE YOU AROUND THE PITCH MYSELF.”

Roy nodded at me. “The boys need something to hold onto, if they want to hold onto Zava, that’s fine by me.”

I watched as Jamie pushed himself to be in the front of the pack. “I think it’s incredibly short sighted to depend on one player. Just thinking about when Jamie was their Zava.” Roy grunted, remembering all too well when Jamie was the hero of the lads. “I guess I just don’t get it.”

“I think it’s a guy thing… like Ryan Reynolds,” he surmised. I shook my head, a disgusted look on my face.

“Well, that’s one thing I can be glad not to get behind.”

…

After training, I was sitting in at my desk, drawing up a different strategy. Or at least trying to. I sucked at this part, trying to figure out how the players should move. I was good at interpreting strategy and executing it, but coming up with one on my own, forget about it. I was just about to give up and get ready to head out when Jamie walked into the room.

“Hey, Jamie,” Ted greeted with a smile. “How you doing?”

            “Um. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Straight and to the point. He didn’t even look at me when he walked in the room. I frowned glancing over at Beard who shrugged.

            “Yeah! You can talk to me as long as you want, though I do have a tendency to doze off around 1:00am.” He laughed at himself. How many dad jokes could Ted make in one day? The world may never know. “What’s up.”

            “Uh, so look… uh,” Jamie turned and closed the door and finally he looked at me. I tried to give him a smile, but he didn’t seem very receptive to it. “I know we’re all excited Zava’s here. Yeah, I get that. But I know a lot of players like him, and they’re all just self-absorbed glory hunters who care about themselves.”

Ted and Beard gave each other a look. I knew what they were thinking. Jamie was that exact self-absorbed glory hunter just a few seasons ago. But Jamie was different. He really was. And the fact that Zava was that version of himself was truly mature of him. I knew it took a lot for him to come talk to us and I wanted to support him.

            “Uh. Jamie, don’t you think that… coming from you… that’s a little bit ironic,” Beard scoffed, giving Jamie a condescending look. I frowned at him. It wasn’t even ironic.

            “Look!” Jamie stammered trying to figure out how to word his thoughts correctly. “The point is. We don’t need this guy. I… I think we’ve got a good thing going here, and he’s already fucking it all up.” He pointed to the white board that Zava had messed with. The one where everyone else was behind him.

I hurt me to see Jamie to insecure. But it was different from the insecurity I’d seen when he was worried about Dani. Not only was he being way more eloquent with his words, but he was showing his insecurity to the coaches. Something he never would’ve done before.

“Hey, Jamie, I hear what you’re saying man,” Ted reassured him. “But I think we’ve got to give it a game or two and see what’s what.”

Jamie glanced at me again. Only the second time since he’d walked into the room. I nodded, agreeing with Ted. As much as I didn’t get the obsession around Zava, he was a good player and we had to give it a chance before dismissing him completely. Especially after everything Rebecca did to secure him to the team.

            “Yeah, yeah…” Jamie nodded, wringing his hands. “Yeah, no, course, yeah. Well, um. Thanks for hearing me out.”

            “Alright!” Ted responded, hitting his desk. “Thanks for speaking your mind. Please continue to do so.”

Jamie nodded and turned to leave. “Oh, and uh, I weren’t being ironic… I was being hypocritical.” He said to Beard. “That’s it.”

And he left. I raised my eyebrows and smiled widely, looking at Beard in excitement. Beard was furious. His mind reeling with the idea that Jamie had corrected him.

            “Is that right?” Ted asked.

            “Mmm.”

            “Yes or no!” I pressed, doing a drumroll on my desk.

            “Yes…” Beard squeaked out.

I laughed, pumping my fist in the air. “Jamie 1, Beard 0”

            “So that was actually ironic,” Ted pointed out.

            “More like Beard 5 Jamie 1, okay?” Beard pouted and stormed out of the room. Ted and I sat chuckling to ourselves as he left. I turned back to my paper, looking at what I had drawn.

I scrapped it, balling it up into a ball before throwing it into the trash, nearly hitting Ted as I did. I let out a loud groan and slammed my head into the desk.

Ted rolled over to sit next to me. “What chu working on there.”

“Do you ever think it’s crazy?” I asked him, rolling my head over to look at him. “Being here? Being a football coach?”

Ted laughed ironically. “You know that question does cross my mind from time to time, yes.”

I smiled, but the pit in my stomach wouldn’t let me celebrate quite yet. “But then I remember why we’re here. Do you remember that?”

I looked over at him. “To win the whole fucking thing.”

            “To win the whole fucking thing,” Ted nodded, hitting my arm. “Now why don’t you go on home? You’ve worked enough for today.”

            “Whatever you say, Ted.” I pushed back from my desk, grabbing my bag. “I’ll see you at the game, yeah?”

            “Sure will, miss ma’am,” He responded, standing from his seat. “Have a nice night.”

I walked out into the carpark, looking forward to getting home and taking a long shower… maybe with Jamie involved. But instead, he was leaning against my car waiting for me. I approached him, looking around to make sure there was no one else around.

            “Hey Jamie, what’s up.”

            “Oh, hey (Y/N), thought you’d forgotten about me,” Jamie grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I unlocked my care. “What are you talking about?”

            “Thought you’d be too busy talking to Zava,” he said pointedly, not even having the decency to look at you.

You stared at him face unmoving. Your blood was boiling. “Nuh, uh, no we aren’t doing this jealous bullshit.” Jamie shrugged noncommittally, but you could tell his exterior was breaking. “You don’t get to take your anger and insecurity out on me.”

            “I was just-“

            “You were just nothing, get off my car.”

He pushed himself off my car, hand coming around to rub the back of his neck. I pushed him aside and opened the door to the car.I knew Jamie was upset about Zava, I knew he was feeling insecure about his skill and his abilities I knew all those things. But he had no right to pin his emotions on me. If he had actually talked to me, he would’ve learned that I think Zava is an overrated prick with an ego to match but no. Instead, now I was getting in the car to drive home and shower, alone.

I didn’t say another word to Jamie was I slammed the door and drove off. In my rearview mirror, I saw him kicking a rock on the ground and knew he was probably kicking himself as well. My shower wasn’t as satisfying as it would have been if Jamie had been there, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless.

I let the hot water roll down over my body, washing away the stress and anxiety the day had brought. But when I stepped out, I found myself wishing Jamie was there to make some stupid cheeky comment about my body. I had to remind myself that I were mad at him long enough to not text him to come over.

Instead, I went back to my drawing board and tried to draw up another strategy. But try as I might, I couldn’t focus. I tapped my pencil against the page. Every tap sending a pitch to my mind of my football days, the stomps on the seats, the cheers of my chant, the swish of the goal. What were I missing?

I snapped out of my trance when I saw my phone was ringing. I picked up my phone and answered the called.

“Hello?”

It was only a few minutes later when Colin showed up at my doorstep with a bottle of sugary rose and two glasses.

            “Are you sure I wasn’t bothering you?” he checked as I walked him into my house.

I waved him off, sitting down on my couch. “Not at all, I was just relaxing after a shower, now pour me some wine and talk to me.”

Colin followed my instructions and poured me a hefty glass of wine. He sat on my couch, trying to make himself comfortable but I could tell there was something on his mind. He was vague on the phone, something about relationship problems and just wanted to chat, but that was it. He shifted so his body was facing mine.

            “Do you ever feel like… a part of you is… missing?” He asked sincerely. “Like… you can almost tell it’s there but it’s just out of reach.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Is this about Zava? Cause I told Ted that taking you out of the lineup was a bad idea.”

            “No! Well… maybe.” He considered his words, tapping his fingers against his hands. “Maybe something more than Zava.”

I thought back to my dilemma with the strategy. I could see the field, the ball in in stride, the crowd cheering my name, but not the formation. What was I doing there? I thought through this as Colin waited for me to respond.

            “I think maybe Zava getting me benched has me thinking about… my place on the team and just who I am…” He told me, looking down. “Something Nate said to me last season.”

I rolled my eyes, grumbling to myself. “What did he say?” I scoffed, thinking about what Nate could possible have said, brining my wine glass to my lips.

            “He called me uninspiring.” I almost spit out my wine. “Like Jamie and Dani are Van Goph and I’m… motel art.”

            “He said WHAT?” I shouted, nearly jumping out of my seat. “What a bastard.”

            “Yeah…well… maybe he was right.”

            “No, no, Colin…” I got up from my spot and moved over to sit next to him. “You are not motel art.”

Colin shrugged, looking noncommittal. “Zava inspires, that’s why he’s on the team.”

It broke my heart to think someone made Colin think he wasn’t inspiring. Like his work on the team wasn’t enough.

            “Colin…” I sighed, sucking my lips into my teeth. “You are inspiring. The only thing Zava inspires is a headache, but you… you make the team work. On and off the field.” I brought my hand to shake his shoulder. “You’re my friend, Colin. I don’t become friends with just anyone on the team.”

            “Bumbercatch said he was sorry”

            “If he was sorry he would knit me a new scarf, wouldn’t he.”

Colin chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah… I guess.”

I could tell there was something more going on in Colin’s head. Something that went deeper than just the team’s lineup. His hands were still tapping away at each other even as he smiled. I knocked my shoulder against his.

            “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” I checked, glancing down at his hands and back up at him.

Colin chewed on his bottom lip as his eyes averted away from mine. “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

I nodded, knowing that if it was something I should know he would tell me.

            “Alright, then get your switch out we’re playing Smash Bros.”

            “Oh, you are so on.”  

The day of the game arrived and the whole city of Richmond was buzzing. Everyone was excited to see Zava make his debut for the team, see what he could do for us. I found myself spacing out as the coaching staff went over the plan to the team again. How many times could one man say Zava before the it didn’t even sound like a name anymore.

We had exactly four minutes until we had to be on the field. I was heading to fill up my water bottle when a hand pulled me into the boot room. I yelped but knew exactly who it was.

            “Jamie, you have to stop surprising me like this,” I scolded, trying to regain my balance.

            “Sorry, sorry, but I we don’t have a lot of time,” He apologized, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to apologize.” I softened, standing up straight as I listened to him. “I was being a dick yesterday, and I took me… stupid insecurity about Zava out on you.”

            “Yeah… you did,” I agreed, the ends of my lips curling up just slightly.

            “Anyways, I just wanted to say I’m sorry, yeah?” He concluded, skewing his mouth at me.

I glanced around the room, making sure the coast was clear before going up on my tallest tip toes and placing a quick kiss on Jamie’s mouth.

            “Thank you,” I murmured, my eyes crinkling with my smile. “But next time… just talk to me. “

He scoffed and nodded, looking down at the floor. “Yeah… I should’ve just talked to you. I know… but it’s just Zava gotten into me head.”

I started to head towards the door, shrugging. “Don’t worry about Zava, how back could it possibly be?”

…

Very bad, apparently. Well great for Richmond. But terrible for Jamie. Zava took the league by storm, leading Richmond through a string of powerful wins against all of our rivals. It made us look great, but I could tell it was taking a toll on Jamie’s self-esteem. He barely had a single goal the whole season, even one that looked like a sure goal for him that Zava stole at the last minute.

That’s how he ended up moping in the corner of Sam’s restaurant. I stared at him as I chatted with Rebecca and Keeley. After another successful win, Sam had invited us over for an early opening of his restaurant. Everyone had come. Even Beard and Jane were there to show their support. I would give anything to go over and comfort Jamie, but right now, I could only stare as he looked so fucking good, even as broody as he was.

            “It’s a pity you and Jamie never worked your shit out, isn’t it,” Rebecca commented, popping an olive in her mouth. “You were all over him last season.”

I widened my eyes at her, nodding sadly. “We just never figured shit out, I guess.”

            “It’s too bad,” Keeley agreed, looking over at Jamie. “I think the two of you would’ve been great.”

I glanced over at Jamie again who was playing with his food, a warm feeling flooding my chest. “Yeah… we would’ve.”

Rebecca and Keeley shared a glance. Rebecca subtly refilled my glass with champagne as Keeley pulled me back into the conversation.

            “Well, we need to get you back on the horse! Gotta get back on bantr!” Keeley insisted, forcing me to look at her. “I bet if you tried you could take one of these guys home tonight.”

            “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t want to do that,” I soothed, shaking my head. “I think I just want to be single for a little while.”

Rebecca nodded at me. “Good for you, being single is great!”

            “You hate being single,” Keely pointed out, giggling.

            “But I have come to accept it, (Y/N)” she looked at me seriously. “Just focus on you and the rest will come.”

I smiled at her. She was right. Not in the way she thought but it meant a lot to me. Here I was, working for a premiere league football team, dating my best friend and I should be happy. I was happy. But my mind wandered to my conversation with Colin. There was a part of me missing but I didn’t even know what part.

I looked over at Jamie again, this time he was with Roy. I didn’t know what they were talking about, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But I missed Jamie. I missed him even though he was sitting in the room with me. I knew that if I walked over there and pulled him up and kissed him in the middle of the room, no one would care.

But it wasn’t them I was afraid of. It was everyone else. Once the word got out into the world and the press knew and the fans knew, no one would look at me the same way. They would look at him the same but me, I’d be the coach who was dating her player. I’d be the girl who slept my way to the top. And I don’t think I could handle that.

…

The rapid knocking on the door was what woke me up. I was laying on Jamie's chest, an arm slung over his waist as he kept me secure with an arm around my shoulder. I blinked my eyes open and propped myself up on my elbows to look at the clock. 4:00AM.

"Jamie," I grumbled, tapping his chest. "If you don't get the door, I'm gonna kill someone. Most likely you."

"Why do I have to do it?" He growled, wrapping his arms around me to pull me down to his chest again. "Just ignore it, they'll go away."

I smile sleepily, closing my eyes again. He was right. Whoever it was knocking at the wrong house. They would go away eventually.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Or not. I groaned again. "Jammieee."

He didn't move, pretending not to hear me. I trailed my hands up his chest and flicked his bare nipple.

“Oi!" He shouted, suddenly very awake. "What'd you do that for?"

"Go. Get. The. Door." I demanded, wriggling out from his arms, and turning over.

Jamie let out a frustrated grunt but got out of the bed, throwing a shirt on before walking out again.  I felt your eyes begin to droop again. Jamie would be back eventually, and we could go back to sleep for a few more hours.

But he didn’t come back, and it sounded like he was actually talking to whoever was at the door. I frowned and let out a hard sigh as I rolled out of bed. I found Jamie’s shirt – he must have taken mind by mistake – and threw it on over my head. I slumped down the stairs rubbing my eyes.

            “Jamie, who the fuck is at the door?”  As I rounded the corner, a bright light came to shine on me. I blinked my eyes and realized that it was Roy. “Oh, fuck.”

            “What the fuck is she doing here?” Roy barked, looking at Jamie.

            “None of your fucking business, grandad,” Jamie waved him off turning around. He walked over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and kissing my head. “Goin’ for a run, you gonna be okay?

I nodded at him, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “You’re wearing my shirt and your ass is out.”  

He looked down at the shit then glanced over his shoulder. “Thought I’d give Roy a show, whatdaya think.” He leaned down pursing his lips dramatically.

I pushed his head away and laughed. “Very funny, now go change so I can go back to sleep.”

Jamie frowned at me and sulked as he walked off. I watched him leave for a second, my lips pursed as I became very aware of Roy’s eyes on me. I walked over to the open door, waving at Roy.

            “You sleepin’ with Tartt?” He grunted, his bushy eyebrows lifting slightly.

            “Your knees still creak when the wind blows?” I shot back, meeting his expression.

Roy grunted at me, smirking fondly. “Touche.”

I smiled, a real smile, not a tight-lipped or pursed smile. It was 4 o’clock in the fucking morning and I’m standing in Jamie’s shirt in front of my friend and the world didn’t explode. Roy and Jamie getting along, well as best as they could. It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Sure, it wasn’t the whole world, but it was someone. It was a start.

            “Holy shit.” Roy’s voice brought me back to reality.

            “What?” I leaned against the door frame.

            “You’re proper fucking into him aren’t you,” Roy questioned. “Like it’s not just a sex thing.”

I bit my lip, turning as Jamie reemerged from our bedroom. I felt my ears begin to burn as I replied.

            “Yeah… I’m proper fucking into him.”

Taglist:@heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 20

robert fischer wouldn't cheat on me while I was in the hospital for over a week with pneumonia and that's all I'm gonna say about that.

also, this is filler. I'm halfway through writing the next part but I physically can't write anymore and I need sleep. i'm trying; bear with me.

Zoe had a mix of emotions as she drove home from work the following day.

She was nervous about seeing her family, but excited to see her niece. Facetimes every night was nice, but not enough. She was nervous about getting harassed by her mother; the usual questions about her career, love life and general happiness always came up after her mom had a couple margaritas. She was excited to see her sister, but nervous about how she would treat Cillian since she knew of the arrangement. She knew she was fiercely protective over her, and she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. She was nervous for Cillian to meet them all. The fact they were on the other side of the country where they can't just hop in a car and leave early if they wanted to made her feel even worse. They'll be stuck there for at least 3 days with them. Of course, if it would get THAT bad they could book a flight home, but Zoe would be mortified. How embarrassing.

On the other hand; she was racing home because she knew Cillian was there.

He had texted her at about 1pm, letting her know that he just arrived at her apartment with his bags and Scout. He was going to drop Scout off at boarding later on that night since their flight was 6am the next day. Zoe had responded saying she had made room in the dresser for him and to use the 3 empty drawers on the right hand side for his clothes.

Zoe pulled into a spot she found on the street and hopped out of her car and speed-walked to her building, taking the stairs 2 at a time to make it to her floor. She stopped short in front of the door and tried to compose herself. She smoothed her hair down and tried to wipe the sweat off her forehead without wiping off too much of her makeup. She opened the door and was greeted by a dog jumping on her.

"SCOUT, OFF" Cillian yelled, pulling him by the collar to get him off of her.

"Cill, please, if I die from a dog jumping on me, i'll die happy," Zoe said, taking her bag off her shoulder and kneeling down to Scout's level, letting him lick her face and giving him scratches and pats in return.

"I know, I just don't want him to do that every time you walk in, it's your house," Cillian said, turning around and running his hand through his hair. "Ok, where was I ... fuck I forgot what I was even doing," He said, sighing defeatedly. Zoe stood up and picked up her bag.

"First of all, bold of you to call this very small apartment a house, but i'll take it, and two, what's stressing you? how can I help?"

Cillian turned around, sighed again, placed his hands on Zoe's hips and pulled her into him, resting his forehead against hers. "Nothing love, I'm sorry. Just a crazy fuckin' day. Between packing, saying goodbye to the house, running to the lawyers to sign paperwork, I'm just...tired" He said, placing a kiss on her lips. "thank you again for letting me crash here."

Zoe smiled. She knew when he said tired, he meant physically AND emotionally. He had a lot of changes happening at once, and losing his home wasn't making it any easier.

Zoe took a deep breath and placed her hands on his chest. "Well, good thing is you're not doing this alone. How can I help?"

Cillian smiled. "I'm good love. Just tired."

Zoe smiled sweetly. "Okay then, why don't you go take a shower and I'll order us some pizza?" Zoe stepped away and turned around to go grab the takeout menu. Cillian Grabbed her hand and twirled her back into him. "You think I'm taking a shower... without you?" Cillian mumbled into her neck, causing Zoe to giggle as they walked to the bathroom.

Hours later, Scout was dropped off for the weekend and Zoe and Cillian were on the couch watching tv.

"So Sophie's turning 3, and your sister is... 7 years older thank you?" Cillian asked. Zoe had given him a brief rundown of who he'd be meeting this weekend. "Yup, you got it" She responded, taking a bite of her pizza. "That's pretty much everybody"

Cillian smiled, took a sip of his beer, and cleared his throat.

"So what about your dad?" He asked.

Zoe froze. "What about him?"

Cillian could feel the sudden tension in the room. "..I don't know.. you don't speak much about him"

"I mean he's dead, there's not much to talk about" Zoe replied monotone.

"Jesus" Cillian said, looking at her.

"Sorry," Zoe said, looking at her hands i her lap. "Guess it's just hard. I always avoided talking about him because I didn't want to cry"

"..you're that scared of crying?" Cillian asked. "Fuck that."

Zoe rolled her eyes. "yea, whatever" she mumbled.

after an awkward silence, Cillian spoke up. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. His name? What did he do? his favorite music... anything. Your favorite thing about him" He replied.

Zoe sighed. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes already.

"Well... His name was Tom. He was a firefighter. He was the best dad. He always just wanted to help people. I remember in elementary school we had a project we had to do with all our dads. My friend didn't have a dad, and wasn't going to do the project. My dad convinced her to do the project with him too, so she could participate. He was a big guy, but always showed up to every one of my sister's dance recitals with flowers and stayed for the entire show, clapping loud for every kid there. He coached my T-ball team, and called all the teammates his 'kids'. He was always so proud of all of us on the team, and made sure to let each and every one of us know. He treated himself to a beer after work, always, and rather cook dinner after a long day instead of my mom trying to burn something in the kitchen. He loved his vegetable garden, and my mom, sister and I used to laugh when we used to catch him in the backyard, arms crossed, admiring his garden on summer evenings. He loved football - not your kind, the american kind - and if he wasn't at the firehouse on Sunday's, he was in his recliner with a beer watching the game. He used to... he used to read the Reader's Digest with me ever week... it was our favorite thing to do. Cover to cover - our favorites were the jokes obviously. I'm convinced I was advanced in reading and writing because of him. He loved a whisky sour, and sometimes when I was a teenager and I would come home late, I would catch him in the kitchen having one while he was waiting for me to come home. You know how they say some kids gravitate towards one parent, or is more like one parent than the other? I believe that's true. Jen is very much my mom. Has the same mannerisms as her, they talk multiple times a day, she is very much her daughter. My dad and I were closer than they ever could be. I was very much HIS daughter... and I think that's my favorite part about him.. was that he's my dad. I know being his daughter is my favorite part about me.. it's the one I'm most proud of, at least," Zoe said, feeling a tear start to roll down her cheek. Before she could wipe it away, Cillian beat her to it. He squeezed her hand after his hand left her cheek.

"He... I guess at work he inhaled too much smoke.. he got lung cancer. He was diagnosed and gone within a year. My mom's response to helping us cope with it was take us on a vacation. Pretend it never happened. She bought us laptops, scooters, bikes.... we didn't want any of that. We just... I don't know," Zoe said, sighing deeply and looking down, letting the tears fall freely now. Cillian pulled her into him and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"Whisky sours and a veggie garden... my kinda man" Cillian said, getting a laugh out of Zoe.

"Oh, he took his garden very seriously. One time, the dog we had at the time chewed a hole in the chicken wire he had around his garden and ate all the tomatoes. I woke up one morning to my dad chasing the dog around the backyard, but it had just rained, so he slipped and fell on the wet grass, we were all hysterical" Zoe said, laughing at the memory.

Cillian smiled at her. "See? you're laughing. Sometimes it's better to talk about him. It's okay to cry too, but even though I see tears coming down your pretty face, you're smiling."

Zoe didn't want to admit it, but he was right. It was like a weight was slowly being lifted off her shoulders. It did feel good to talk about him, crying or not.

"yeah, yeah, okay. I guess you're right," She said, giving him a kiss on his lips. "Thanks for the tip Murphy"

"Anytime, Parker" He replied, giving her another kiss.

Zoe started laughing. Cillian pulled away, confused. "What?"

"Nothing.. it's just.. remember when you slept with me, signed a contract to date me for 3 months, and didn't even know my last name yet?" Zoe said, bursting out laughing. "Glad you finally learned it"

Cillian rolled his eyes and choked back a laugh. "Keep it up missy and i'll give you another.. tip of mine," he said, pulling her on top of him.

tags: @lau219

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 18

Word Count: 3.8K

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: this is essentially a filler chapter to jump into the end of Season 2. But, if you're one of the followers of this story, strap in 'cause shit's about to go down 🫣

<- Previous | Next ->

Emergency Family Meeting was what flashed on (Y/N)’s phone at six in the morning. She groaned as the sound bounced off the walls, breaking her from a deep sleep. The brightness from her phone burned her eyes and made her groan as she read Allison’s message.

The last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by Argent hunters. She didn’t want to face her cousin or her grandfather; she didn’t even want to face her own parents. All she wanted to do was sleep. Well, she still had school, and she had to walk Brody, but other than that, she wanted to sleep. It was the only sure way she had to avoid Derek. The more she slept, the less time she had to think. And (Y/N) did not want to be stuck in her head.

“Dude, turn off your phone,” Isaac grumbled from the spot he had taken on her bedroom floor, hugging Brody closer as he turned away from the light. “It’s too early to be awake. We still have two more hours until school starts.”

Emergency Family Meeting flashed on (Y/N)’s phone at six in the morning. She groaned as the sound bounced off the walls, breaking her from a deep sleep. The brightness from her phone burned her eyes and made her groan as she read Allison’s message.

The last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by Argent hunters. She didn’t want to face her cousin or her grandfather; she didn’t even want to face her own parents. All she wanted to do was sleep. Well, she still had school, and she had to walk Brody, but other than that, she wanted to sleep. It was the only sure way she had to avoid Derek. The more she slept, the less time she had to think. And (Y/N) did not want to be stuck in her head.

“Dude, turn off your phone,” Isaac grumbled from the spot he had taken on her bedroom floor, hugging Brody closer as he turned away from the light. “It’s too early to be awake. We still have two more hours until school starts.”

“Well, it’s not my fault Allison is calling for a family meeting,” (Y/N) sighed, ripping her sheets off her body. "I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with her little revenge arc. She's probably going to tell us to go after Derek and anyone involved with him.”

“Which includes me,” he said. “I don’t think your cousin will take well to knowing you’ve been harboring one of Derek’s betas these last couple of days.”

After everything that had gone down after Lydia’s party, Isaac had been glued to (Y/N)’s side. When she was at school, he would never be too far behind. Much to his disappointment, he had to remain outside of the halls while her family hunted him and the pack. But he made sure to keep watch of her as he hid in the woods. He claimed he didn’t want her to be alone—especially after Matt’s body had been found in the river—but she knew the uncertainty he had living with Derek and everything that was happening. The man had all but said you’re all either entirely in or to jump ship. Erica and Boyd had turned down (Y/N)’s offer of her home, but Isaac had been quick to agree.

Somehow, (Y/N) had been able to hide a 6’1” teenage werewolf in her bedroom for almost an entire week without being found out. Granted, the fact that her parents seemed to be out of the house most of the day because of the Kanima helped. They didn’t really question the missing food or the fact that their daughter locked herself in her room the second she got home. Their minds were simply too preoccupied.

“I’m just gonna see what this is about, and I’ll let you know what’s going on,” (Y/N) said as she slipped a hoodie over her head and tied her hair into a ponytail. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t born in this family, you know? It’s like craziness follows us.”

“Could be genetic.”

“My biggest fear,” she sighed. “But I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t come out until I’m back.”

“I can go with you,” the boy offered. “Hang out a few blocks away until you’re done. Moral support, you know?”

“I can’t risk having you close, Isaac. I’m not even sure what I’m walking into myself. For all I know, this is the meeting where they reveal my involvement with the pack, and I’m punished by the family.”

“See, that doesn’t make me feel comfortable about you going alone.”

“I’m not gonna be alone,” she shrugged. “My dad will be there, and he’s on our side. So, I’ll see you when I get back because I am coming back.”

“Fine. At least I have Brody to keep me company,” he said as he scratched the sleepy dog’s head. “I can keep him if you don’t come back, right?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I try,” he snickered. “Be careful, Argent.”

“Always am, Lahey.”

After saying a quick goodbye to Isaac and her dog, (Y/N) closed her bedroom door behind her and sped off to her uncle’s house. The place was packed with hunters, both young and old, all preparing to take down the now-infamous Kanima. Anywhere she turned, a leather-clad hunter would meet her gaze. The girl tried her best not to feel intimidated, but their stares bore into her like they knew all of her secrets.

But if they did, they made no sound about it. They nodded their heads and waved at her as she passed them. No one reprimanded her or tried to hold her back from getting to where she needed to be. She was simply the daughter of one of the Argent boys and a hunter in training.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Gerard greeted as she walked down to the basement. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Yeah, well, I do live far from here, and I was sleeping. Mind you, it’s six in the morning on a school day.”

“(Y/N),” her mother reprimanded.

“It’s quite alright, Rebecca. She’s filled with teenage angst and rebellion. I’d be surprised if she didn’t say something out of place.”

“Great. Since we’re finished discussing my teenage behaviors, could you tell me what we’re doing here?” (Y/N) scoffed quietly. “I do have a history test in a few hours.”

“Okay, we’re veering off track here,” Allison interjected. “I’m the one that called this meeting because I need us all to be on the same page about the wolves here.”

“And what page would that be, Ali?”

“Derek Hale is the reason my mother is dead, and he has to pay for what he has done. It’s been a week since she died, and we’re nowhere near to finding him,” she said sternly. The way she spoke about Derek sent shivers down (Y/N)’s spine. There was so much hatred and ire laced with her words that it killed any ounce of sarcasm in the other girl’s brain. “Other than the Kanima, our top priority is to apprehend Derek. If you find him, you bring him back here. Alive. We know he has betas that will protect him at all costs. Just like last Friday, I don’t want to hurt them for being dumb enough to protect their alpha, but we will if the need arises. I will need you to be on high alert. We will be the only ones looking for him. The other hunters will be tasked on Kanima watch, but this case is too personal to leave in their hands.”

(Y/N) wanted to speak up, tell her that the only people she should have been hunting down were their own family. It was their fault and their stupid rules that had killed Victoria. Not Derek or any of the wolves, and they did not deserve the persecution that Allison was instituting. It was an unnecessary witch hunt that she wanted no part in.

As everyone agreed with the game plan, strategizing how to get the big bad wolf, (Y/N) slipped out of the basement. She was unable to keep listening to her family’s ideas to catch someone who was not at fault and how taking innocent lives would be such a breeze since they were simply in the way. Everyone spoke up, saying what way they thought would be best. Everyone but her father. Henry simply sat back and listened as everyone else spoke of killing three teenagers and a young man like they were planning their Thanksgiving dinner.

“Where are you going, (Y/N)?” Allison said. She grabbed (Y/N) by the elbow as the girl started walking down the driveway, turning her around to face each other. “We’re not done yet,” she said.

“It seems to me you all have this perfectly planned out,” she shrugged. “There’s no need for me to sit in on a meeting that could have been an email.”

“What is your problem, (Y/N)? It’s almost like you don’t care about what happened to my mom,” the girl accused. “I know you two were close, but he’s to blame here.”

“I do care, Ali,” she stated. “I’m very sorry that your mother is dead. I can’t imagine the pain you are going through. But it is not Derek’s fault that she took her own life, and planning on hurting or, worse, killing the rest of the pack is honestly unbelievable. Our job is to defend those that can’t defend themselves, not go after innocent people.”

“None of them are innocent,” Allison seethed. “Derek Hale is a killer. And if the rest decide to hide him, then they are complicit in his crime. They are just as guilty as he is.”

“Have you ever even thought why Derek had to bite her? Have you asked yourself why he may have needed to resort to that?”

“What’re you getting on about?” she questioned. “How would you know any of that?”

“I was there, Allison. I was in the room where it all happened,” (Y/N) admitted. “She was close to killing Scott that night, using an airborne form of wolfsbane. Derek fought her to get her away from him. That’s when he bit her. It was their lives or a bite. She got away fine. Her death happened because of the stupid rules this family lives by, where a hunter would rather take their own life than be a wolf. “Now, you can blame them all you want and hunt them down for eternity,” she spat. “But it will never change the fact that it was Victoria’s choice to die that night. No one killed her but the blade in her hand.”

As soon as those words left her mouth, Allison’s hand struck (Y/N)’s cheek with a loud snap, splitting open the still-healing Kanima slashes on her cheek. They dripped warm blood down her skin, mixing with the sting of the hit. But it did not deter her from continuing. “Would you have rather he let Scott die?” she pressed. “Would you have rather she had killed me in the fight instead? Because it’s everyone else’s fault, right? The fact that your mother took her own life is everyone else’s fault. And just because you think you know what’s best doesn’t mean you get to tell everyone what to do.”

“How can you say something like that? If it hadn’t been for Derek, my mother would still be alive,” Allison said through gritted teeth. “Grandpa put me in charge of strategy because he knew I was the best person for the job. I’m actually committed to our family’s work, unlike you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, well, excuse me for not being okay with the murder and unnecessary hunt of our friends. Because I think you’re forgetting who the people you want to hurt are,” Syler pressed. “What if I’m hiding them?  Will you kill me too? Will you make sure I don’t get in your way?”

“(Y/N), I wouldn’t…” ‘

“But you would, Allison. You’re being driven by vengeance and retribution, and I will not help you do it. The rules that the hunters live by are warped and do nothing but justify the killings of innocent people. I won’t stand for it.”

“So, what’re you saying? You’re out?”

“Oh, you can absolutely believe I am out,” (Y/N) spat back. “And if you want to turn everyone against me, you can go right ahead. I will make sure to do my absolute hardest to protect my friends from you. You’ll have to kill me yourself if you want to get to any of them.”

(Y/N) turned before Allison could say anything else, mounting her motorcycle and speeding off. Everyone she cared about was at risk because of her family, because of something she had helped do. She knew going against her family could have dire consequences for her, but she couldn’t simply stand by while her own cousin hunted the people she had befriended once upon a time—and some she had made sure to stay clear of. Even if they had supernatural abilities, the girl knew the relentlessness of her family. They had their scent, and they wouldn’t let it go.

As soon as she got home, she ran to her room to find Isaac now asleep on her bed, her dog curled by his feet. He looked calm and peaceful, even, unaware of the danger he was in. (Y/N) wanted to protect him and keep him safe for the first time in a very long time.

(Y/N) slithered onto the bed as softly as she could, trying to take advantage of the forty minutes she still had left until she had to go to school. But as soon as the bed dipped, both Isaac and Brody turned their heads toward the movement. “Hey,” she whispered as she finally settled onto her spot. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’re back already?” Isaac yawned. “What did they say?”

“We can discuss that later,” she dismissed. “You need all the rest you can get, kid.”

“Is it bad?”

“Later, okay? I can’t focus on that right now. I need to dream about the Roman empire before my test.”

(Y/N) walked out of the history classroom feeling content with her performance. Even if she had missed a few questions, she knew she had gotten the majority of the test right. And in the grand scheme of things, she was fine with celebrating that small victory. There might have been a killer lizard boy terrorizing the town controlled by god knows who, her best friend might have been hunted by her family, her situationship might have ended things, and her parents might have hated each other, but at least she knew she got a good grade on her test.

As she turned to the left to head to the cafeteria, she collided straight into someone, sending the book in her hands flying.

“Oh, god, (Y/N),” Stiles’ voice said. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking.” 

“It’s fine,” she chuckled as she accepted his outstretched arm. “I wasn’t looking either. We’ve all got a lot on our minds, I guess.”

“You could say that again,” he laughed. But there was something different in the timber of his laughter. It wasn’t bright and cheery—not that she expected any less in a situation like the one they were in. “I feel like I haven’t seen anyone in years. These days…”

“These days have driven everyone apart, it seems—some more than others,” (Y/N) said with a sigh. "I thought I understood interpersonal relationships. Hell, I thought I understood what being family meant. But these past few months have shown me that I don’t know anything.”

“We know less than nothing,” Stiles added. “And these past weeks have taught us that.”

With a shared sigh, a thought popped into (Y/N)’s head. “Do you wanna ditch?”

“Like, school?”

“No, church,” she mocked. “Of course, school.”

“But there’s still half a day left and practice…”

“We’ll be back for lacrosse practice. I know the big game is tomorrow,” she stated. “It’s just a couple of hours and lunch. You can do that, right?”

“I mean, I guess I could.”

“If the principal has anything to say about it, he can bring it up at the next family dinner,” (Y/N) joked. "So, are you in?”

“Fuck it, I’m in.”

The pair of teens used the racket of class change in the hallways to slip out of the front doors. If anyone had noticed, they didn’t care as they ran to the parking lot. But they had not planned where to go. (Y/N) went left as Stiles went right, stopping once they noticed what they had done.

“My Jeep is better,” Stiles whispered. “It fits more people.”

“My bike is faster,” the girl retorted. “And I have an extra helmet.”

“I’m supposed to get on that death trap with you?” Stiles worried. “So, if the Kanina doesn’t get me, your bike will?”

“I’m a better driver on my bike than anyone could be in a car,” she said. “Live a little, Stiles. Who knows when we’ll be gone.”

With a fearful breath and a furrowed brow, Stiles reluctantly followed (Y/N) to her motorcycle. He tightened the straps of his backpack and climbed onto the bike behind the girl. For a second, he felt safe. As he balanced his body on the back of the leather seat, he thought it was fine. Until she roared the bike to life, and it rumbled under him.

“You might want to hold on tight,” she said. “I like to go fast.”

Stiles’ words died in his mouth as she gave the bike gas, and they sprung forward. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist a small scream left his mouth. The boy may have faced murderous lizards and wolves, but nothing could compare to the anxiety of having his life depend on a vehicle with only two wheels and no walls.

But soon into the drive, the boy leaned into the danger. His grip softened, and his fear turned into thrill. The rumble of the road felt different, the wind hitting his body was chilling but welcomed, and he felt like he could breathe. After months of treading water, he felt he could breathe.

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination. Beacon Diner was a staple in the town and a place she started frequenting with Derek up until he had decided to disappear from her life as though he had only been a passing thought.

It was odd to return to the establishment without him. Memories of their first time there came flooding back every time she went there, and that was the first time those memories had made her stomach churn. She had learned as much as she could about him, given an entire portion of her brain and her heart to him, all for Derek to simply discard it all away. But he wouldn’t hold everything in town hostage for her. She wouldn’t let him.

“Oh, (Y/N), nice to see you back,” her usual waitress welcomed her. “Cutting school again, I see.”

“Just taking an impromptu half-day, Molly,” she smiled. “Figured I’d get some early lunch from the best place.”

“Cafeteria food not cutting it?” Molly chuckled as she set menus in front of the teens. “And, hey, that’s weird, no Derek today? Haven’t seen the two of you here in some time.”

 “Yeah. No Derek for a while,” (Y/N) managed to blurt out. “He needs some space, I guess.”

“Boys,” Molly playfully scoffed. “Well, then, what can I get started for you two?”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence after they made their order and got their drinks. It was the first time they had ever been by themselves, and they knew they made an odd pair to the naked eye. How could anyone know the trauma that already bonded them in such a short amount of time?

“So, things go south with Derek?” Stiles finally broke the silence after taking a sip of his unnecessary coffee, not really noticing the nonchalant tone of his words until after they had left his mouth. “I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s totally up to you. I don’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay, Stiles,” she chuckled softly. “It honestly came out of the blue. After the whole thing at the station, he said he had to put some distance between us because he couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t one day turn on him like Allison has turned on Scott and…”

“How Kate turned on him,” Stiles finished. “He really said that?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. Her eyes were trained on the ice of her drink because she knew if she looked at the pity in his eyes, she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears. “I thought we had gotten over that, but I guess he was just waiting for the right moment to use that card.”

“I’m sorry he said that,” the boy offered. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you could ever be like Kate. It might not mean anything coming from me. I know I haven’t known you for too long, and in the short time I knew your aunt, she was trying to kill Scott and me. But you’re nothing like her, (Y/N).”

“It means a lot, Stiles,” the girl smiled. “Especially since I wasn’t that great when I first came here.”

“Yeah, you were a hard pill to swallow,” Stiles chuckled. “But I get why you were like that. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. I like not being the only one who’s default is sarcasm.”

“I guess I got here just in time then,” she laughed. “I just wish I knew what my purpose is here. I mean, I’m basically the odd one out.”

“How so?”

There was a silence between them as their plates were set in front of them, an extra order of fries set between them. Molly told them it was on the house and left with a playful wink toward them. The pair burst out laughing, knowing the insinuation came from a good place.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Stiles mentioned as he popped a handful of fries into his mouth. “Why do you feel like you’re the odd one out?”

“When I came here, everyone already knew their place,” (Y/N) sighed. “And, I don’t know, I just feel like I have no role here. Like I wasn’t meant to stay here for long. Hell, even Derek is the creepy loner. I’m just… there.”

“Oh, god, and you think we have much purpose?” Stiles sputtered. “If it hadn’t been for an accident, Scott would have never been turned, and we’d be just as oblivious to everything as the rest of Beacon Hills. We’re all just winging it, honestly. Whatever we do right, it’s just because we most likely stumbled onto the right answer.”

“But even without the whole werewolf, Kanima, whatever nonsense, you would have still had a life here,” she said. “The only reason I’m here is because my dad wanted to be close to his brother, and the only reason we stayed is… well, I’m honestly not even sure why.”

“Maybe that’s your purpose,” the boy offered. “To find out why you’re here.”

“A journey to find my purpose in life… how absolutely coming-of-age film of me,” she chuckled. “Can’t we just be kids for a day? Jeez.”

“You can say that again,” Stiles laughed as he slumped in his seat. “I could do without the near-death experiences and the constant crippling anxiety.” 

“Something tells me we’d still manage to be in similar situations regardless.”

“Something tells me you’re right,” he chuckled sadly. "At least we’re not going through it alone—well, not completely alone.”

“Isaac might not like it—hell, he will probably be jealous that I didn’t ask him to come with me—but you’ll always have a friend in me, Stiles,” (Y/N) smiled. “I might be new at this whole thing, but I’m still here.”

“Well, likewise. With how things are looking out, we’re all gonna need all the friends we can spare,” he said. “I just want this whole deal to be over with so we can get back to our boring, regular lives.”

“I think that might be too much to ask for,” she laughed. “Maybe let’s just hope the championship tomorrow goes on without a hitch.”

“Now that’s something I can cheers to.”

Next ->

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[buckysgrace]

Chapter One

This is the first chapter to my fic Cruel Summer. There are more chapters on my AO3 if anyone is interested in catching up there faster! This chapter is the shortest and a bit of a filler but I hope you enjoy it!

Billy X Fem!MayfieldOC (Includes Stepcest, smut and violence so please read to your own discretion.)

“Look,” Kim moved Addi’s legs to the side, water still dripping off her one piece as she held out her journal towards her, “I’ve got it all mapped out.”

“Fuck, that’s cold!” Addi cursed sitting up from where she was sun tanning. Kim smiled apologetically, not actually meaning to get the water on her. The girls had taken to hanging around the pool as the mall had proven to be too dangerous for their wallets. Their first paycheck had been quickly blown at the mall. “Seems like a solid plan, but you know in order to attract male gazes,” She quoted from your writing, “You probably need to wear those bikinis we bought and not the one piece your mom got you,” To make a point she pulled on the skirt of Kim’s one piece.

Kim gaped at her, “This is very cute,” She mumbled rubbing her hands down over the frills on top of the suit. All of her new and “mature” clothes currently sat hanging in the back of her closet with the tags still on them. Her confidence of wearing them outside had been quickly diminished when she had overheard Neil talking to her mother about the slutty clothes girls wear now while giving her a pointed look.

No, she was unsure if those outfits would ever see daylight.

“Right, it’s cute. You need sexy!” Addi pushed her long black hair behind her shoulders. She had chosen to wear one of the bikinis she had picked out at the mall. The current one was a light blue that contrasted nicely against her brown skin. The two girls may have been spending their days at the pool, but Addi hated the water and never did much more than dip her toes in and watch as Kim swam laps.

“I know,” Kim moaned pushing her wet, red hair back, “It’s just so hard, I’m scared people will sit there and laugh,” She sighed, rubbing her pale, freckled arms feeling a sudden chill come over her despite the hot sun beating down on her back.

“You just need to do it. How else is Steve Harrington going to notice you and get in your pants?” Addi questioned scanning over her journal again.

“Get in whose pants?” The deep voice that appeared from behind caused Addi to slam the journal shut and clutch it to her chest. Kim jumped, feeling her heart race as she tried to think of some excuse as she peered up at her older brother glaring down at them.

If she would even call him that. 

Kim didn’t have the worst relationship with Billy, but it wasn’t the best either. They sort of had some understanding and had some sort of shared bonding over their hatred of Neil. Billy was the only one who would allow her at times to clean up his cuts and bruises. And as a result he stuck up for her the most when Neil would try and critique her weight, looks and habits.

Still, it didn’t feel like they were close in a way that siblings would be. Her feelings towards him were so very different than the feelings she felt towards her baby sister, Max. 

Billy stood there in his life guard uniform, if you could even call it that, his red shorts clinging to his hips and his whistle resting comfortably between his pecs. He had pushed his sunglasses over his blonde curls and blew out smoke at the two of them as he awaited an answer. 

The two girls glanced at each other, both waiting for the other to make some excuse, before looking back up at him and answering in unison.

“Nothing!”

Billy huffed then motioned towards the journal, which Addi had a death grip on, “What’s that?” They both looked at each other again.

“Homework,” Kim finally spoke up, raising her hazel eyes to meet his piercing blue ones. She always felt like he could look right into her and know the truth without saying it.

“School has been out for two weeks,” He spoke up before putting his cigarette out. Kim’s eyes flickered to behind him where the group of mothers were looking at him like he was the last meal they would ever have. She shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“It’s never too early to get a head start?”

“Shouldn’t you be watching the brats and I don’t know, making sure they don’t drown?” Addi asked dryly, leaning back in her chair and resting her legs over Kim’s. She relaxed softly, grateful for her friend. They had both met last year and bonded over their similarities. Both had come into the school year at the same time, and moved from different parts of California. She was more brash and bold, but still had a soft heart that she kept locked up behind big walls. She had been the one to suggest they both have an unruly summer before school starts.

Billy laughed, flicking his tongue over his teeth, “I’m on break but thank you for your concern,” He looked back at Kim, “What do you want with Steve Harrington?” She wished she could scream.

“Nothing, just seems like a nice guy,” She tried to reply as casually as she could. She knew he was a sore subject for Billy. They had some sort of competition last year that resulted in the both of them getting burned. Kim felt like she got part of the backlash as well. Everytime she went to Scoops Ahoy she’d watch as he’d flirt with girl after girl but when it came to her, he always deadpanned and referred to her as Kimberely before scooping out her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

She was determined to change that this summer.

“Yeah, pretty boy will only want one thing from you,” He leaned down until he was inches away from her face and looked over her face with his piercing eyes, “Stay away from him,” As quickly as he appeared, he left heading towards the concession stand. She scoffed, shaking her head.

“Can you believe him?” She groaned as she reached for her journal, she looked up to see Addi still watching him, “Addi!” Addi jumped and thrust the book back at her. She knew the effect that Billy had over people, and she had yet to find someone that didn’t swoon the first time that he opened his charming gaze to them.

“Damn, sorry. He is hot though,” She shrugged and Kim groaned, shoving her journal back into the safety of her bag. She wasn’t the first person to say that, and Kim knew she wasn’t the last. Kim always felt awkward, but she hated to admit that it was true. Billy had always been good looking and he knew it too. She had to live through constantly seeing the different girls he brought back and listening to their “happy screams” as Max would giggle and call it.

“He’s the reason Steve hates me,” Kim groaned, crossing her ankles. Addi shook her head.

“Steve doesn’t hate you, he’s just indifferent right now. I’m telling you, once you show up in that cute little dress you got he’s going to lose his mind,” She smiled sweetly, gripping Kim’s hand.

“You really think so?” She smiled hopefully and Addi nodded again. Steve had been the first guy to give her any attention when she moved here, not that she really qualified that as him being into her. He was being more polite than anything, guiding her from the front office to her first class of the day. He had been with Nancy Wheeler at that time, now, she had heard that they had split and felt like it was okay to make a move on him. Nancy was with Jonathan now anyways, she didn’t see what the problem could have been.

Until Billy.

“Of course I do and if he doesn’t - fuck him. You’re beautiful and there’s a guy out there for you. Even if it isn’t Steve,” She proclaimed. Kim nodded feeling a bit better about it, but she truly hoped it was Steve.

“I gotta leave a little early today,” Addi spoke up again grabbing her bag, “I told mom I’d help make tamales. Argyle should be here soon, we can drop you off at home if you want?” She asked, looking at her. Kim considered her offer for a moment.

Today was Neil’s day off. That meant lots of tense and unbearable hours as she would try and not make herself known in the house. She shook her head.

“No, I want to swim for a while longer. Thanks for the offer though, I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” They both worked as waitresses on the morning shift at Patsy’s Diner and insisted that they needed the same shifts in order to get through the day.

Addi nodded and leaned down to give her a hug right as Argyle pulled his van up and began honking obnoxiously. Kim laughed, watching as Addi rushed out but still managed to flip him the finger.

Now, Kim took in her choices. She could wait a few more hours, then head back home on foot with the hot sun beating down on her unbearably.

Or

She could oh so sweetly ask Billy for a ride home, of course that meant waiting a few more hours until his shift ended and probably having to assist him with locking the place up for free, but it also meant not getting a huge sunburn over her back again.

So she took a deep breath, and headed towards the break rooms where he liked to sit back and do God knows what. Goosebumps raced up her arms as the cool air hit her. She waved towards Heather as she moved towards the dark room and hoped that Billy wouldn’t try to ask about Steve anymore.

Kim pushed on the handle, but the door remained shut. She furrowed her eyebrows together, confused as to why it would need to be locked in the first place.

“Hey,” She walked back up to Heather, smiling apologetically. The other girl barely spared her a glance before looking back down at your nails, “Can I use your key to get into the supply room? I think that’s where Billy went and I need to ask him something,”

“Did you knock?” She questioned, smacking her gum but pulling her key out of her bag regardless. Kim shook her head.

“I figured he’d ignore me if he knew it was me,” She grinned and thanked her, before stalking back to the room, wondering if this was even worth the hassle. She could just wait until the end of his shift anyways and force him to take her home. Then again, she may get stuck in the car with him and whichever girl he decided was worth his time.

She stared at the door for a moment before quietly sticking the key in and turning it until she heard it unlock. She pressed her ear against the door, listening for a moment to try and hear what he was doing. She furrowed her eyebrows again, hearing nothing but heavy breathing.

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob as she considered her options again. One last deep breath and she pushed the door open wide.

“Hey, Billy-” Her words jumbled in her throat and her mind blanked as she stared at the image in front of her. 

Billy had jumped so far that his back slammed against one of the metal storage racks, sending goggles and life jackets tumbling onto the floor. His cheeks were flushed, and the fly of his shorts unzipped, with his hand quickly trying to shove himself back into his shorts.

“You brat! You couldn’t be a normal person and fucking knock?” He yelled harshly, giving her a dirty look. Kim noticed he was flushed all the way down his neck and couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or from something else.

“I um-” Words couldn’t seem to come to Kim as the image of him holding his cock in his hand seemed to burn itself in her mind.

“Needed these,” She muttered awkwardly, picking up a pair of bright green, square goggles that had landed in front of her feet. “Thanks,” She muttered, looking anywhere but at him as she moved, slower than normal, and shut the door behind her. 

Once the door clicked shut she moved with haste before he could come out and say anything else. What was his problem? Who does that?

“Hey- Hey my key!” Heather shouted after her. Kim stopped so fast that she thought that her flip flops may go flying off. She gulped hard, turned and thrusted Heather’s key back towards her quickly. 

She quickly gathered her things, deciding that anywhere would be better than spending the rest of the evening anywhere around Billy.

God, she was so fucked.

[chocoblep]

#16: Tempering Expectations

Prompt: Third-rate

Lydjana had been toiling over these new sleeping capsules for days, and she couldn’t understand why they weren’t working. The ballistics force that was being applied to them was the same as it had been before, as she’d been using her hand cannon both then and now to test. They weren’t as aerodynamic, which was to be expected considering they were half-filled with liquid, but the worst part was that half of them were breaking open when they came out of the barrel. That was a far cry from breaking on impact, which was the intended result.

At first, she thought the compound might have been too heavy, so she launched a dummy capsule with a lesser amount of water in it. This, too, broke when she shot it, so she recalibrated the hand cannon for a lighter shot and tried again. When she still met with no success and a very wet mud puddle, she decided to use the last of her previous batch of mix to make a few more capsules. There wasn’t enough for more than a couple, so she only molded two, and went to grab something to eat as she waited for them to set.

When she came back, she tried the same experiment, and the capsule soared through the air and hit her target with a loud thunk, breaking open and splashing it with the water she’d filled it with. Initially, excitement filled her and she whooped–she was getting somewhere! It was short-lived, though, because almost as soon as she’d cheered her success she realized why she’d been struggling so much. So she gathered up three capsules–the last old one, and two of the new ones she’d made–and tucked them gently into her satchel, leaving her testing grounds behind.

The Sapphire Avenue Exchange was packed this time of day, and as Lydi approached the alchemist’s market stall she usually brought her mix from, she was so tired, hot, and frustrated that she barely had a filter left. She dropped all three capsules onto the counter and then slammed her palms on either side of them, causing the Lalafell behind it to jump in surprise and the capsules to hop an ilm in the air before settling again on the wooden surface.

“Ah, Lydjana! Wh-what can I do for you?”

“Do you want to explain to me why, Hihimori, when using the exact same process, add-ins, equipment, environment, and gun  to make and fire these capsules, two of these will break apart on the shot and only one will break apart when it hits its target?” she asked, leaning forward. To crowd over the counter. A nearby merchant glanced at them, but quickly looked away.

“Probably a molding issue,” the lalafell replied, though he sounded less sure of that than he likely intended. “That kind of stuff is finicky–”

“How many batches of this mix have I bought from you?” she asked, cutting him off.

“A-A dozen, at least!” he replied.

“And I pay you well?”

“You do, lass!” he replied.

“And you’ve been putting filler in it recently?” She asked quickly, in the same tone as her last question.

“Yes–I mean, no! Shite…”  The man brought a small hand to drag down his face, sighing. “Yes, but it’s not what you think. The powder I put in this batch I had to substitute because my regular shipment never arrived, and it’s just as strong as the other–”

“No!” Lydjana slammed one hand against the counter, silencing him, and then picked up two of the capsules. She opened them both, showing him their construction. “Exact same shape, exact same thickness,” she growled, and then pulled a heavy book from her satchel and settled it on top of both of them. They held it perfectly straight, without bending. “Looks great, right? They’re both pretty strong. But watch this shit. Give it thirty seconds.”

Pulling the book away, she opened both capsules again and then pulled out her water skin, pouring a small amount of liquid into each one. Then she closed them and settled the book on them again. After about ten seconds, the new mixture’s capsule began to lose its integrity, the book listing atop it. After twenty, the book had moved enough that the other capsule came loose and rolled the length of the counter until Lydi stopped it with her hand, and as the book settled again, the capsule broke entirely beneath it, water splattering the counter and dripping down between the wood planks.

“Bugger me!” the alchemist said, quickly moving to pull whatever was under the counter from the dripping.

“I told you when I first ordered this that there would be liquid in these capsules. Did you think to test the mixture’s viability with liquid in them? It looks like your new powder is dissolving into it, and not only does that destroy the integrity of the capsule, but also ruins the potency of whatever’s inside it! You are either going to replace this batch with a legitimate one, or return my payment and I will do business elsewhere.”

The Lalafell raised his chin, fixing her with a glare. “I’ll replace half of the batch, if you bring back the faulty mixture,” he countered.

Lydi leaned forward just a touch more, her green eyes full of fire. “The entire batch, and here is the rest of your faulty mixture.” She shoved the only capsule remaining on the counter at him.

“Already used! I have no use for this!”

“Yes, well neither do I!” Lydi snapped, and then her voice rose. “And if I hadn’t been testing with this, I could have been killed because of it! Do you want that on your hands? Killing your customers because you didn’t test your damned substitute!?”

The lalafellan man widened his eyes, and at that moment a  hyuran man approached the counter with his hand resting on the pommel of the short sword at his hip and bearing the insignia of the Brass Blades on his coat, and Lydi straightened when she saw him.

“What’s the ruckus? You’re attractin’ attention.”

“This man sold me a mixture meant to form capsules for projectile-based delivery of substances, and substituted with inferior, ineffective ingredients without informing me of that change. He also charged me the same price he would have if he’d used the actual mixture we agreed upon. I was very specific with my request. You don’t mess around like this when it comes to guns and safety!”

The merchant looked between Lydi and the Brass Blade, and then sighed. “Here,” he said, moving to one of his ledgers and drawing a finger down the list. Then he counted out the exact amount that she’d paid him, and handed it over. 

“For the trouble. And I’ll replace the full batch, but I’m still waiting on the main ingredient. Apparently the original caravan they sent got attacked by a pack of jackals and lost it, but some mercenary took out the pack leader and they dispersed. Heard it was a bunch of shenanigans involved with that. They’re sending a replacement, but it won’t be here for a few more days.” He hesitated when she shook her head, his hand dropping with the gold still in his fingers. “Well then, do you want the recipe so you can take it somewhere else?”

“No! No,” Lydi said, taking a deep breath. “I paid for it, so keep the money if you’re replacing it. It’s the product I want. And trust me when I say you’re the only one I’ve found so far who’s managed to get it right and is able to produce it regularly, so I’d like to continue buying it from you. But hear me when I say this: When I order this in the future, no substitutes unless you discuss it with me first. I will find out eventually, and I don’t want to find out by getting injured or worse.”

“Yeah. You’ve always been level-headed, you just… surprised me roaring up like a Behemoth and I got defensive.”

The hyur looked between the two of them and raised his brows. “Everything’s good, then? No need to intervene?”

“No, sir,” both of them said in unison, and then Lydi leaned against the counter again, this time a touch more relaxed. The man nodded and returned to his post.

“Look, Mori, I like you, but I thought you were trying to pull a fast one on me, and when it comes to my guns, I can’t afford to mess around like that.” She gave him an apologetic look. “So I’m sorry I started in on you like that jackal that delayed your shipment, I just spent the whole day trying to figure out why these things were breaking left and right and I was really angry.”

The man took another deep breath and then let out a little laugh. “I like you too, Lydi, you’re a generous gal, and you’re right, I should have told you. Time’s money, and truth be told, I was busy and forgot about the liquids thing. My solemn promise that I’ll talk to you about it in the future.” 

“Well, you know what they say, mother is the necessity of invention. Maybe we can put our heads together when this happens and come up with something even better, yeah?”

“Aye.” He paused, and then looked up to her. “What were you gonna put in those capsules, anyway?”

“A sleeping draught that vaporizes when it comes into contact with outside air, and acts quickly on inhale.”

“Shite, you weren’t lying when you said that could be dangerous!” he exclaimed, just as another customer walked up to the counter. 

“Yeah. Someone shoots it, it explodes in their face, they fall asleep. Whatever they’re shooting at would either run off or shoot back.” Lydi collected the book and wiped it off, sticking it back in her satchel along with her last good capsule.

“Let me keep this faulty capsule. Maybe we can find a use for this mixture, eh? I’ve got a couple ideas. I’ll let you know when the original stuff comes back in and we can get you a good batch. And remind me not to make you mad!” He turned to acknowledge his new customer. “Hey, May! I’ve got your potions here, give me just a second to grab ‘em!” Then he looked to Lydi once more as he began fishing through the crate he’d pulled out from beneath the counter. “Do you need anything else before you go? I’ve got a few energy additives I’ve been working on if you want a sample or two on the house for the trouble.”

“Energy additives?” Lydi asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

“Aye! Add it to your water skin and it’ll keep ya goin’ like coffee. It’s derived from a nopalitender blossom extract from Tural, and I’ve been working on flavoring it. It’s been working pretty good! I’ve managed to almost replicate La Noscean Orange, and the grape one’s pretty much settled.” He spoke fast as he packaged up the potions, and then made the exchange with his customer and put the gold in his till.

“Oh… Sure! I’ll try it!”

As he bagged up a couple little powder packets and handed them over, he gave instructions on how much to use for a full skin of water, and Lydi had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, finally.

“Well here I am, trying to put monsters to sleep, and you’re trying to wake me up!”

[vidreview]

VIDREV: "Short Seasons Are Killing TV" by Captain Midnight.

[originally posted august 29th 2024]

Captain Midnight is one of those creators i don't really follow because the vast majority of their work (mostly Big Corporate IP analysis) doesn't interest me, but every once in a while they'll come out with something that's EXTREMELY relevant to my interests. this one caught my eye because i've been on that "the streaming model is really bad for television" grind since 2018, and i'm always curious to see how mainstream perspectives on this stuff are evolving.

i'll just say at the start that this is a pretty good video. most everything i've watched by Captain Midnight has felt at the very least on the right track, if not always entirely on point, and the lack of cutesy overly familiar Content Creator-isms are a godsend from this type of channel. it makes for a bit of an odd duck for a full VIDREV, because i'm not here to discuss the shortcomings of what was said, but rather to take a closer look at what wasn't said.

in short, this is a video about how the now-standard 8 to 10 episode TV season in a post-streaming world has strangled much of what makes the medium unique, and he points to how many of the top-rated streaming shows are older titles with a hundred or more episodes as evidence (though he leaves out that streaming rights to shows like The Office have been the subject of contentious bidding wars in the past, a fact that would only strengthen his argument). he hits a lot of my personal favorite talking points: streaming tv is worse at good individual episodes, the idea of "filler" doesn't really make sense when applied to american television, the serial episodic structure lets you get to know characters better over time. near the end he pulls out the Netflix Marvel shows Jessica Jones and Luke Cage, each of which had a 14 episode first season that felt somehow overlong, despite their characters being literally tailor-made to support serialized week-to-week stories. these, he says, were an important early example of how the prestige streaming model encourages movie-like storytelling instead of TV-like storytelling. these are a good points, many of which i've made myself across my recent informal series of video essays about modern television writing practices.

but on the other side of all that analysis, Midnight's conclusion leaves something to be desired. here's the closing paragraph that jumped out at me, with my own added emphasis: "I love serialization on TV and I always have, I just think it can often be used better within the scaffolding of episodic stories. and for a while there it felt like TV was getting better and better at melding the two together into something truly interesting and special. but somewhere along the way that progress got lost, and many in the industry ended up thinking that serialization and short seasons were the shortcut to quality." take a good, long look at those bolded statements, and consider how important they are to Midnight's argument. after 17 minutes of wide-ranging and generally pretty good analysis of specific shows and recent trends, these three generalizations quietly paper over a gargantuan blind spot in order to get the script over the finish line.

first, "for a while there." for a while there refers to the internecine years between the dawn of the Netflix streaming era in 2011 and the eventual Wall Street-ification of all the media companies by 2018-19, when there was a big shift away from purely serialized television towards the more expensive "prestige" model we're so accustomed to now. what were the causes of this shift? what was actually going on "for a while there"? well, the 2007 writer's strike increased the writer's royalty take from home video sales, and gave them more bargaining power with networks. for this and a million other reasons, a lot of post-2007 shows saw a diminished episode-per-season count from 23 to 16-18. this was a huge boon to writers who now had more time to work on fewer episodes, meaning the quality of each individual episode shot through the roof. it helped that everyone coming into showrunning capacity at this period had years of experience working in the sitcom/cop-drama mines, developing a hunger for a show that could tell a continuous narrative within an episodic framework. with this new higher-quality television spreading away from cable-only networks into broadcast, suddenly everyone was talking about "the golden age of tv" and hyping up the medium as a place for nuanced, artful storytelling. Netflix saw where the wind was blowing and invested heavily into this trend, selling the idea that on streaming, there's no need for a set episode-per-season count for every show, no need for every episode to come in at a set length, no need to avoid more controversial adult topics for advertisers. of course, they very quickly reneged on that promise and have since become everything they promised not to be, but whatever. as Netflix succeeded, other networks decided they wanted to eat the streamer's lunch and develop their own services, making big deals with established names that made for great marketing. this meant a wave of well-publicized high-profile investment that pulled triple duty with audiences hungry for more mature media, creators hungry to make more mature media, and investors with dollar signs in their eyes. perhaps you can guess whose interests are the ones that actually matter in this equation.

but then after all that investment and quality increase, Midnight says, "somewhere along the way" the trend shifted, and "many in the industry" adopted the streaming model as the artistic ideal. now, hold on, wait. who in the industry? do you mean writers? directors? producers? executives? these roles each have wildly different relationships to the medium and to the stores of capital which allow it to be produced, and putting them all in a single consensus-bucket together as if they're all the same thing is wildly misjudged. you know what happened "somewhere along the way"? studios and streamers (and their increasingly powerful Wall Street backers) realized that favoring streaming over home video meant they didn't have to pay those costly royalties that were so painstakingly won in the 07 strike. you may recall that apocalyptically low streaming royalties were a major point of contention in the 2023 writer's strike. (the irony of Netflix starting as a DVD rental service is lost on no one.) like every service that emerges out of big tech, streaming was tailor made to break unions and steal profits without looking like that's what they were doing. they sold a big loud exciting bill of goods, got everyone to invest before regulators could catch up, made themselves an essential part of the creative economy, stole absolutely everything that wasn't bolted down while no one was looking, and left all their traditional unionized competitors scrambling to make up the shortfall. if this sounds familiar, that's because it is THE business model of the post-08-recession world. you might call it platform decay, or if you're Cory Doctorow you might call it "enshittification," but i'm gonna cut out the middle man and call it what it is: the tendency of the rate of profit to fall. it's the enclosure of the commons in microcosm, the natural process of enclosure and monopolization inherent to an open market. as is always the case with their loud proclamations of innovation, tech has invented nothing new here. it's pretty much just What Capitalism Does.

we do not need bloggers to reinvent Marxism from first principles to understand what's happening. Marx already did that for us.

another key factor for understanding what happened "along the way" comes with the development of Mini-Rooms. instead of creating a crew of staff writers experienced at multiple levels of production who work for months together to write the scripts for a single season of television, streamers like Netflix would assemble small rooms of relatively inexperienced writers paid slightly above intern rates under the guidance of maybe one experienced showrunner that were only given a few weeks to pump out scripts to please investors. this has led to shows that often feel samey, rushed, and terminally inconsistent. now, instead of writers having more time to work on fewer episodes for the same (or greater) pay, they have less time to work on fewer episodes for worse pay and virtually zero royalties. this coincides of course with cost-cutting measures across the board in streaming, with producers desperate to decrease time on set wherever possible and eating the cost of breaking union regulations because Economies Of Scale Are Fucking Absurd, meaning everyone on a production has less time to do their work, which inevitably means that their work is worse. and with TV seasons being so drastically shortened, and the gaps between seasons so drastically widened (not to mention the expectation that few if any shows will make it past season 2 (because union contracts get a pay bump at season 3)), there are fewer opportunities for young filmworkers to gain experience, build connections with fellow filmworkers, and hone their talent pool over a period of years. a show isn't just its writers, directors, and stars after all, it's an entire business operation employing hundreds if not thousands of people. for a filmworker in the 90s or before, getting a gig on a popular show could be life-changing because it was one of the rare Hollywood situations that was relatively dependable for a long stretch of time. those kinds of jobs are increasingly rare, and the alternatives are starting to look more and more like undignified freelance work than a real sustainable career.

all of these factors and so many more have had the downstream effect of making the entire industry less stable, burning out promising young talent instead of developing it, discouraging others from trying to break into the industry in the first place, and lowering the baseline quality of popular media so the viewing public sees it as less valuable. perhaps you can fill in the blanks on the ensuing race to the bottom.

this is not the result of a creative consensus. this is not something that "many in the industry" just sort of randomly changed their minds about "somewhere along the way." this is an economic trend driven by economic forces far beyond the purview of any single working person's decisions. maybe you can find interviews that suggest otherwise, maybe there were lots of writers excitedly extolling the virtues of streaming media over traditional forms-- but those people are no less vulnerable to marketing hype than you are, and why should they have been more educated about the economic realities of streaming than we were? we are, all of us, simply reacting to systems in motion, trying our best to make sense of them, searching for the silver lining that keeps us from going insane at the instability of it all. this is why it's so important to have a materialist framework for your analysis-- without that anchor you're just judging by vibes, trying to divine an explanation from consumer trends and missing the forest for the trees. look not to the words of any given writer or actor or producer, but instead to the money, to the actual flow of material power. look at the victories of organized labor, and the resultant retaliations by organized capital. Midnight's thumbnail loudly states that "WE BROKE TV," but "we" didn't do a damn thing. our consumption habits didn't do this, the creative preferences of writers or directors or showrunners didn't do this-- it was rich people with lots of money who saw an opportunity to make even more money and took it, damn the consequences.

here's my problem with consumer-side criticism. it tends to see a hard dividing line between those who make media and those who consume it, and thus generalizes all of the makers into a single heterogeneous mass that can only be understood in the vaguest possible abstract. without a materialist economic framework for understanding the flow of power in these systems, consumer-side criticism can only go so far before it crashes headlong into a big scary Marx-shaped wall. there's a door to the other side only a few feet away of course, but it's rare for a critic in this mode to walk through it because I guess they see the business side of things as irrelevant or overly complicated. like, we're here to talk about the contents of media in a very layman's death-of-the-author sort of way, to judge trends on their own merits and not rely on outside sources to skew our perspective. this is fine when the scope of your analysis is relatively small, but as soon as you start asking questions like "why isn't [thing] as good as it used to be" your consumer-end framework fails you utterly. i'm not saying Captain Midnight is a uniquely craven paragon of this particular misstep by the way, in fact on the whole i'd say he's better about this than many. this is an extremely widespread problem for a generation of critics brought up after The End Of History, when trickle-down free-market hokum was adopted as Natural Law, leaving them only the empty feelgood individualist babble of neoliberalism to interpret the world. but it's not an insurmountable problem! i've yet to meet a commie my age that didn't start in that bubble and have to work their way out of it. i certainly made my share of embarrassing neoliberal apologia before finding the immortal science! it is the process of a lifetime to unthink these blind spots, and i point them out in all kindness in the hopes that others might avoid such mistakes in future.

and frankly, everyone is asking these "why is [thing] bad now" questions because it's begun to affect every facet of our lives. it's not just movies and television shows, it's basic web services, it's the USPS, it's the healthcare system, it's jobs and housing and education, it's everything. what is it, precisely, that you want to fix? you want to see better movies and tv shows? how do you propose to make that a reality, beyond "i hope that creators/audiences adjust their habits accordingly"? to my mind, this notable tension is a perfect opportunity to point people in the direction of an actual systemic cause, and thus an actual systemic solution. do not stop your analysis at "shorter seasons are bad and i hope they stop doing that" when you could help your audience think about these things in terms of class, labor, and solidarity, by giving them an illustrative example they might apply to their own working life. there is no fix to this macroeconomic trend in reform, no union so strong it can put a lance through the heart of capital's lust for profit. maybe bringing all this up in a video would feel too political for a lot of creators in this space, but the politics are gonna do what they're gonna do regardless and it's gonna be your problem (and your audience's problem!) sooner than later. i'm not saying every video essay should be a dedicated Marxist polemic, that would get old real fast, just that the current liberal individualist framework lets the real perpetrators off the hook and limits our ability to imagine better futures. if you want to feel like your fluffy unimportant media analysis is "justified" at a time of war, genocide, and crushing economic disparity, you might start by using them to normalize a more collective, materially-grounded way of thinking about the world. it's the little things that add up most in the long run, and you'd be surprised how easy it is to make "too political" into "too important to ignore" with a little strategic frog-boiling.

that's my opinion, anyway. this is still a pretty good video essay and i think you should go watch it. i'd also recommend Midnight's review of the Borderlands movie and the interminable nostalgia of modern Marvel movies for a bit of good fun.

[final note: at the start of the video, Midnight mentions that Adam Conover also released a video about the harms of streaming television at the same time, but that it goes in a very different direction. i'm gonna give it a watch and see how it stacks up by comparison. i expect that it will have a more materialist framework (since Conover actually works in the industry) and correctly identify where the problems lay. i also expect that he'll fall flat when it comes time to talk about solutions, because like Cory Doctorow he's invested in the anti-monopoly line, which fundamentally believes that if you just break up the monopolies then capitalism will be fine actually. i guess now i'll put that theory to the test, and if i find anything interesting i may end up writing about it.]

[deliwrites]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕊𝕝𝕦𝕥 // 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 // Dream Team

// DATE // 26th of November 2022 // PAIRING // DreamTeam x fem!Reader, george x fem!reader, sapnap x fem!reader, dream x fem!reader // WARNING // flirty!reader, use of real names, tease!reader, playgirl(ish)!reader, reader being playfully teased   // WORDS // 2,5k+ // SUMMARY //  Your first day in America with the boys. (it's a bit of a filler cause I've been very busy with college, sorry!) // CREDIT // I have use a small paragraph of the first book of the "to be claimed" series from "Willow Winters". I highly recommend it if you are into a/o/b stuff.

// SERIES // Intro // Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // I’m open for serie title suggestions for this one! Feel free to comment your suggestion here or sent it into my inbox!

// MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

After our group hug, I looked up to actually look at Clay. Nick and George going to grab my suitcases.

“I knew you would be gorgeous,” I told him. I don’t think he was expecting exactly that. A loud chuckle coming from him in surprise. A bright smile covering my face. Standing on my tippy toes, I peck his cheek. “Now, where is Patches?” I ask with excitement. Don’t tell them I said this, but Patches is definitely the biggest reason I decided to move.

“Alright, let’s let those two deal with the suitcases,” we laugh at the two somehow struggling to get them out of the car. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, Clay starts leading the way to the front door.

“Patches!” I sing song the moment the front door closes behind us.

“Last I saw her she was in my ro-”  a meow interrupts him—patches. She walks over to us from the living room.

“Hmm,” I giggle evilly. “I guess you forgot to tell Patches about your plan,” smirking, I stand on my tippy toes again, this time pecking his lips now that we were in private. Clay smiles, only a little defeated. He did at least get a peck. I peck his lips two more times before walking over to Patches slowly. Lowering to the floor. “Hi cutie,” holding out my hand for her to sniff. Cautiously strutting over, she starts sniffing my fingers. Quickly after nudging my hand. Allowing me to pet her. “Awh, you like me already!” Gently I pick her up, cradling her in my arms like a baby.

“Of course, she likes you,” Clay says, watching fondly at the interaction. Watching me baby-talk to the cat. She somehow meowed back in response. “You’re part of the family,” getting up from the floor I sent him a smile. Still holding onto Patches who decided to hug me.

“So, where is my - unfinished -  room?” Before Clay can answer, the front door bursts open. George and Nick arguing as they stumble inside with my four suitcases. The commotion causing Patches to jump from my arms, using my shoulder. Leaving a slight stinging sensation from her claws. Running who knows where to hide from the two. “You guys okay?”

“I thought you packed light!” George exclaims, making the question sound more like a statement.

“I did?” I answered with confusion. I had been carrying all four suitcases and hadn’t really noticed one being heavier than the others. Maybe one because of books, but not so much heavier that it would cause such a struggle. Walking over I took the heavy suitcase, noting that it seemed heavier. Placing it on the floor. Unzipping it, I take a peek inside. “She did not,” I mutter, smacking the suitcase shut. I had no idea what else was in this suitcase. But I did not want them to see what mom had put in it.

“What? What’s in it?” Nick asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Let’s not worry about it,” I quickly go to zip up the suitcase, not noticing the look the three share. “Hey!” I squeak when I am suddenly pulled away from the suitcase. Clay having a tight hold on me. Leaving us both to sit on the floor. Trapped I am unable to move out of his hold as I trash around. I’m forced to watch Nick and George open the suitcase. The first thing in sight is a - one of my many - baby albums. One I didn’t plan on bringing, along with a box filled with other pictures from my childhood. Under those, I could see - spicy - books and a black Hunkamüller box. That box was not filled with lingerie tho. No, no, but I think you can guess when I tell you that I would rather have them look at my baby pictures.

“Y/n’s baby pictures,” George smirks. Immediately flipping through the pages quickly. Laughing when he finds a picture of me naked. Showing it to all of us, I was laid on a cushion, on my belly. Ass plumb nice and round in true baby fashion. ‘Awh’s filled the entree way as they continued flipping through them. All the while I groan in both embarrassment and frustration, hiding my face in my hands.

“They are just baby pictures!” I try to minimize the hype of the photo album. “I don’t know why mom packed those.”

“She packed it so we can tease you with it,” Clay says from behind me, still keeping me trapped in his hold. Though I stopped trashing, just letting it happen. Scoffing, I rolled my eyes, not that he could see.

“And what are these,” Nick grabs one of the few books in the suitcase. These were my favourites, there were more going to be shipped by my mom. But they didn’t need to know what they were about.

“Just books… Nothing to worry about,” maybe I should shut up though. I didn’t like lying and I especially couldn’t lie to these three idiots. Besides, nothing I say is going to make them stop looking through my stuff. I wouldn’t mind but like this, it felt very exposing. 

“To be claimed, Willow Winters,” Lucky for me I got the discreet version, so as long as they didn’t open the book I would be in the clear. “What’s this about?”

“I’m not saying anything,” I should really listen to my own advice. With a mock scoff, George takes the book from Nick. Opening it to a random page.

“Before the torn clothing even hits the floor, his tongue-”

“George stop,” I try to stop him from continuing as he reads from the book. He just glances at me, smirk devilishly on his lips.

“His tongue is on me. His rough stubble scratches against my inner thighs and it’s even better-”

“George ple-” before I can finish my plea Clay’s hand covers my mouth.

“Shh, we’re finding out how kinky you really are,” he says in a hushed tone.

“ ‘Please!’ I can’t stand the torture any longer. I need my release. He moves from between my legs and hovers over my body while wiping my glistening arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand. His lips are swollen and his silver gaze doesn’t hide his desperation to be inside me in the least. At least both of us are affected. ‘You need me to fuck you, Grace?’.”

“Wow, we know you’re horny, but not this horny,” Nick teases me when George stops reading. Thanks fuck. Pulling Clay's hand down I mock a laugh.

“At least the men in these books are able to pull more girls than you guys,” laughs fill the space. Clay finally let go of me. Thankfully they decided they had done enough snooping for today. Instead, actually deciding to show me around our home. Ending at my empty bedroom, lucky me, it has an ensuite.

“So, as I explained before, for now, we are rotating beds,” Clay says after putting one suitcase down in the room, George, Nick and I doing the same with the other suitcases. “Tonight, my room is all yours. Tomorrow George’s, then Nick’s. And it will repeat until your room is ready.” 

“Hmm, are you sure you trust me in your rooms?” I smirk evilly.

Around noon whilst we were all relaxing on the living room couch, my phone started ringing.

“Shit,” I mumble, quickly answering the phone. “H-hey mom..,”

“Y/full/n, you’ve made me worried sick! You said you would call when you landed!” my mom's voice rings loudly.

“I’m so sorry! I promise that I’m okay. I have arrived safely-”

“I don’t believe you! Hand the phone to George.”

“What? George is more believable than me?” I ask offended, the guys laughing at my reaction.

“Just hand over the phone, unless you’re not actually with them.”

“Okay, okay,” doing as told, I give my phone to Geoge who puts it on speaker.

“Hello Mrs Y/l/n,” he says calmly.

“Oh thank god, my angel hasn’t been kidnapped.”

“What!?” I exclaim. Clay wheezed beside George.

“Honey, the only way I would know for certain would be George’s British accent,” mom says like it’s nothing. “If you would have just turned your video on-”

“Mom-”

“It’s okay, Y/n, you can turn the cam on,” Clay reassures me like he was reading my mind.

“You sure?” He nods with a sweet smile. Taking my phone back from George. I turn on the front camera.

“There you are,” mom smiles tearily.

“See, I’m alright. I’m in one piece. I’ve just been fed by Clay,” I turn the camera trying to show her I was actually in one piece. Also showing the empty plate on my lap. “I’m being well taken care of.”

“As promised!” Nick says, popping his head into frame next to me. “Also thank you for making her bring a baby photo album,” he smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I actually can’t believe you put it in my suitcase!”

“Awh, but hun, I had to give the boys something to tease you with,” she grins like a Cheshire cat making the guys laugh.

“I thought you were on my side,” I pout.

“Oh, but I am. I am always on your side.” She says in that motherly voice. “But since I won’t see them myself. It meant I couldn't tease you with the pictures myself.”

“Fine, I’ll let you get away with it. But I’m definitely going to hide it.”

“Oh, we’ll find it,” Clay promises, making me reach over George, hitting his arm. 

The call goes on for a little while longer. Ending when Mom goes to bed.

At 9 pm I gave up on trying to keep myself awake. Saying goodnight to the guys, pecking their cheeks. Retreating into Clay’s room after sending him a wink. Using that as a way of saying he was allowed to join me when he went to bed.

I quite literally plummet onto the bed the moment I’ve undressed. Wrapping myself in the comfortable sheets. Which smells delightfully like Clay. It was such a new scent but it was so comforting. Almost like I hadn’t left home. I tried to fight the sleep but almost instantly fell asleep.

It was close to 2 am when Clay was finally able to sneak into his own room. George had gone to bed around 11:30 but Nick stayed up another hour. Not waiting to risk waking those two he had to wait longer. 

Grinning when he saw her figure in his sheets, her face nuzzled in his pillow. Quietly taking off his clothes. He crawls into his bed, on the other side of her. With gentle hands, he pulls her figure closer to him. She grumbled a bit, Clay softly chuckles. But that’s enough to make her stir. Blinking slowly Y/n looks at Clay, a smile forming on her lips.

“Hey,” she says sleepily, a lazy smile on her lips.

“Hi cutie,” he grins at the lazily blinking girl. She snuggles closer to the tall male. “You tired, baby?” she nods against his chest. “That’s alright, go back to sleep,” he pecks the top of her head. He obviously hoped something would happen between him and the teasing minx he was currently cuddling. But he understands how tired she is. It was a long day for her. So much to digest. A whole new life to get used to. There would be many more days for just the two of them. The thought of it brought a smile to his face. Not that she saw.

“Love you,” the confession shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it had. Y/n often told him, Nick and George, that she loves them. But hearing it in real life felt so much different.

“Love you too,” he replied softly, giving her another peck on her head. Clay laid awake for a while longer. Not used to sleeping with someone. Especially, someone, he cared for as much as Y/n. 

He had spoken about it before. And he truly means it. He spoke about Nick and George being his soulmates. Maybe not in the traditional sense. But he thinks the same of Y/n, it might just be a little different. What he knows for sure is that he loves the three of them so much.

The next day I was happy yet surprised to find Clay Next to me. A quick flash of a memory reminding me that he had joined me late last night. He was still asleep cuddled into me. With a grin, I worm my right hand free. Reaching up to softly caress his face. My thumb traces his cheek, his slight stubble catching on my skin. I took my time appreciating his face. Loving the light freckles scattering across his nose and cheeks. He had told me he had them of course, I just hadn’t seen them. And now I get to stare at them as long as I want. Beautiful lashes decorating his closed eyes. Wild curly dirty blond hair framing his face. Plumb slightly pouty bottom lip. Tracing my thumb softly across the pink skin. I watch as it subconsciously gets pulled into his mouth. Licking his lip softly, making me bite my lip. I quite desperately wanted to kiss him, but he’s asleep.

“I can feel you staring.”

“Huh? What? No, I’m not!” I replied startled. Turning away like I wasn’t just appreciating his face. He chuckles, pulling me closer to him. Arms wrapped tight but lovingly around my waist. Giggling as he peppers the top of my head with kisses. Turning back to face him I smile up at him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks gently, his left hand coming up to cup my cheek. A blush flushing my cheek as I nod to answer him.

“It feels like home,” I tell him. I wasn’t necessarily talking about sharing the bed with him. But it all just felt like it was normal. Like I didn’t just move countries. This is my home. With my three boys. It’s meant to be this way.

“I’m glad,” his voice is soft. Slowly leaning in, giving me the option to pull away. Instead, I met him halfway. Our lips slotted together in a tender kiss. No tongue, just lips pouring out feelings of finally making the dream come true. 

“Hmm, I’m hungry,” I tell him romantically the moment we pull away. Biting my bottom lip with a grin.

“Idiot,” Clay chuckles. “Go get dressed, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Okies,” I peck his lips once more before getting out of bed. Clay doing the same, smacking my ass to get moving. I squeak watching him smirk as he goes to his closet. Leaving the room, I go to mine. 

When everyone was awake we made plans. Our schedules weren’t free for shopping for the next two weeks. So we freed a random Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for shopping and building. Clay would have done his face reveal by then. So he agreed to do a building stream with me, along with George and Nick.

[fresh-new-yoik-watah]

Love Like the Sea

Chapter Two: A Good Teacher

a/n: chapter two is finally finished and up ! I promise it won’t take as long in between future chapters 😭 this one’s kinda a filler chapter, just establishing the reader and neteyam’s first official interaction

pairing: Neteyam x Metkayina!Reader

important story info: no use of y/n, it was not working for the story. Neteyam, reader, and Ao’nung are 19. Kiri is 18. Lo’ak and Tsireya are 17. Characters have been aged up for story purposes (not for smut, just easier to write them older)

warnings: none !

word count: 1.7k

===============

A few days had passed since the Sully family were granted sanctuary on Awa’atlu. You saw them only in passing, specifically the two sons, always in a rush to their lessons, arguing between each other over who’s fault it was that they were late. From that, you were able to pick up their names, Neteyam and Lo’ak, Neteyam the one who’s eyes wouldn’t leave your mind, the one often scolding Lo’ak regarding their tardiness; you figured he was the older one. He was slightly taller, held his head higher, unlike Lo’ak who reeked insecurity, craving validation. Tsireya waited for them each morning, her smile and confidence in them never faltering, even with their uncoordinated dives into the sea. She told you they were making good progress, despite their physical limitations. Though, Ao’nung was quick to disagree, grumbling that she gave too much credit to the “forest monkeys”, to which Tsireya would smack the back of his head. You were a little jealous that they got to spend time with the outsiders. Ignoring the strange pull towards the eldest, you were curious about all of them; you wished it was you teaching them, getting to ask them about their home, the trees, but Ronal was keeping you busy, preparing you for a first breath ceremony, one you were expected to lead. You’ve participated in many, from a young age, standing beside Ronal, watching, and as you got older, assisting her. You had every movement and word memorized like the back of your hand from the many years. You knew eventually it would fall to you, as it was a key part in being Tsahik, announcing the newborn to Ewya and the people, guiding it to take its first breath after being plunged into the sea, its first communion with the world, the air and water.

Every practice before, you were perfect, but today, you kept messing up, distracted by the splashes and loud yelps of the Sully boys, learning to ride ilu. They were far from graceful, falling off before even making it underwater and constantly yelling between each other and Ao’nung and Tsireya trying to teach them. Hearing so much noise in your village was not something you were used to, a contrast to the normally quiet and mellow days. Ronal was especially irritated by their rowdiness, her brows furrowed and forehead creased everytime they caused a sound. She noticed your distraction and could easily figure out the cause, seeing where your eyes were constantly wandering off to.

“You’re distracted”

You jumped, startled by Ronal’s sudden remark.

“I’m sorry.”

She turned to look towards the ocean, sighing, “My son is not a good teacher.”

You were silent, unsure how to respond.

She continued, “I will have Ao’nung assist me with the remainder of the preparations and weaving. I cannot bear to see anymore of that humiliation.”

You stared at her, eyes wide, confused. Ronal scoffed and nodded her head towards the direction of the Sully boys.

Realization hit, “You mean I--”

You were shooed off before being able to finish. You called for an ilu, not wanting to test Ronal’s already thin patience. Connecting your queue with it, you were pulled towards the group.

Tsireya heard the chirping approaching and turned to face the sound. Upon realizing it was you, she smiled and waved you over.

“What are you doing here?” Tsireya asked once you were close enough.

You gesture to Ao’nung, “Your mother sends me.” You disconnected your braid and slid off into the water, “You are to help her with the rest of the preparations.”

He scoffed, “Of course.”

Ao’nung never liked being told what to do, especially in front of others. It made him feel embarrassed, the chief’s son, future leader, getting bossed around, as if he wasn’t the age of an adult, as if he was still a child not knowing to not provoke a skimwing. The snickers and whispers rang in his ears everytime he responded, “yes sir, yes ma’am,” seeds of doubt, reminding him that even with a promised title, he wasn’t enough, that they saw him as immature, passive, that if not for the lineage he was born into, no one would ever choose to look to him for guidance or leadership. Now, being told in front of his friends, strangers, that his mother didn’t believe him competent enough to teach someone how to ride an ilu, something taught to literal babies, made him fume. He could read in between your words to know what his mother’s true intention was. Regardless of the fact that you had been teaching the young to ride ilu for most of your life, so naturally, it should be you teaching the forest natives, but his thoughts were so consumed with frustration, he couldn’t see any of that.

Treading over, he pulled himself onto the ilu. Noticing his eyes were fogged over and ears were flattened, clearly upset, you reached to hold his arm, concerned, but he yanked away, letting out a yip before disappearing beneath the surface.

Tsireya shook her head, “So stupid.”

“What happened?”

You and Tsireya turned toward the voice, momentarily having forgotten there was an audience, one you were in charge of now teaching.

“Mara is going to be helping,” Tsireya beamed.

Neteyam eyed you, intrigued, nervous, hoping you weren’t an additional person there to ridicule him for merely existing.

There were his eyes again, staring, gaze burning your skin. You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact, “Come, show me what you know.” You guided the ilu towards a less crowded area, Neteyam following close behind.

“Here is good.”

“Do I—“ Neteyam began, gesturing to the ilu.

“Yes.”

He let out a breath and pulled himself up, waiting for any critique from you, but there was silence. You nodded slightly, signaling Neteyam to continue. He reached and grasped the handle at the front of the saddle.

“Your fingers need to be separated. That’s why you fall off, you didn't have a good grip.” You moved his fingers to demonstrate, “Like this.”

Neteyam nodded.

“And have your one knee bent in front of her fin and your other leg straight along her back when you dive under. It’ll help you stay on so the current doesn’t knock you off.”

“Okay.”

You backed away, giving him room to adjust his body. Neteyam placed his legs where you said, inhaled a deep breath, and let the ilu pull him under. You crouched down to watch him. His form was almost perfect, holding his body steady, not letting his grip falter. Tsireya was right, they were making amazing progress, despite having to learn an entirely new life. He didn’t get very far though, he ran out of breath and had to come back up for air.

“How was that?” he breathlessly asked.

“Good.”

Neteyam inhaled and puffed out his chest ever so slightly when seeing the small smile creep onto your face. It felt like a flame ignited within him, warmth growing knowing you were impressed. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt good.

A loud splash broke him out of his thoughts. Turning, you both saw Lo’ak’s head barely bobbing above the surface as his ilu swam away, chittering.

All pride Neteyam was feeling deflated immediately and was replaced with embarrassment, wincing at his brother’s stunted progression.

“Lo’ak, come try again!” Tsireya called out.

Lo’ak groaned and begrudgingly swam back towards her and the ilu that was taunting him.

You turned to face Neteyam, grimace still visible on his face, “At least one of you improved.”

o0O0o

Time to yourself was not something you had often; lessons took up most of the day, ending right before dinner and eclipse. Even if Ao’nung was upset about it, there was one good thing to come from him taking over your responsibilities, so there you were, floating at the bottom of the reef, watching the colourful fish flit in and out of the coral. You were almost completely enamored in the life around to not notice the splash from above. Almost.

Looking up, there was a figure flailing around, trying to turn themself upright. You recognized the long braids, sprawled, floating in every direction, hair you saw barely an hour ago, Neteyam.

What are you doing? You signed to him from below.

He tilted his head, confused. He didn’t know what you were saying, barely remembering glimpses of Tsireya signing to them the first day. Maybe if he shrugs his shoulders, that had to mean something.

You watched his poor attempt at communicating with you, having no idea what his shoulder and arm raises were trying to translate. Your brain was telling you to ignore, continue swimming, that as much as you wanted, you weren’t meant to interact with him, but there was that pull again, urging you to go up to him, saying it was right.

You sighed, bubbles floating out of your mouth, and swam up, going against your better judgment. Neteyam took a gasp of air once you both broke the surface.

“Are you following me?” You raised your brow at him.

“No?”

You repeated, “No?”

Neteyam sheepishly smiled, not sure what to say to defend himself against your accusation because you were right, to an extent. He wasn’t intentionally following you, he noticed you dive into the water and thought if he too went for a swim, maybe there could be an opportunity to talk to you. Was it a little childish? Perhaps, but all rational seemed to wither away, dissipate, when it came to you. There wasn’t even a reason for it, he’d barely met you officially that same day, but ever since he laid eyes on you that first time, it was like his body tasted a forbidden fruit, needing more to satisfy, knowing nothing would ever compare again.

You stared, unsure how to continue.

Here was the opportunity you craved, being able to familiarize yourself with the strangers, no longer having to live through Tsireya or Ao’nung’s recollections. But there was a gut feeling, one that made you queasy, that if you opened this box, you never would be able to close it.

They do not know the sea.

Tonowari’s previous words echoed like distant drum beats, reminding you that you had an obligation to help, especially as the future of the clan, this boy in front of you needed you to help him.

“I teach you to swim.”

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: Omegaverse (AlphaRoman/ Y-NOmega); Werewolf AU; errors after errors after errors after errors after errors...

A/N: Its the first chap of this fic, im trying something new. For those who don’t know what The Omegaverse is, its a scenario where people are divided into Alpha, Beta and Omega. I won't go into detail and I will try to explain it inside the story, but know that usually Alphas are the dominant elements, they have power over others, especially their designated mates. Omegas are not always seen good elements for society cause they are unstable, especially during the time they have heat. The story was requested me by @ichdrachenfrau and when I imagine Roman as a werewolf, this scenario doesnt come out of my head, so I hope you will like it too.

Buses were never a good idea, too tight spaces, too many people around to poke their noses where they shouldn't. But she didn't have many other choices left to take without documents and after all, trips like that also had their positive sides. The windows in the buses were huge and allowed her to always monitor where she was or in which direction she was going, giving her time to react and get a precise idea. Nobody hunted her there, it was a new area, but she had learned to be cautious, watch her back and precautions were never enough when you crossed the territory of a pack and there was a big one there from what she had heard. But it didn’t mattered anyway, she wouldn't cause any problems and she would board the first ship leaving for the south as soon as possible, hoping to cross some border maybe where the lack of her documents wouldn't be an insurmountable problem as there.

She rested her chin on her hand, the road rushing past the glass and endless rows of trees everywhere.

They were skirting the Blackwater Reserve, in direction of the city where the bus would have its terminus. From there other vehicles, other drivers, other roads departed. A form of smart precaution not to give too much freedom to those who came from outside, while keeping the borders under control and open. She liked that place, there were Atlantic white cedars everywhere, magnolias and azaleas, the sound of the river reached her ears despite the bus engine and for some strange reason, it seemed to almost comfort her mind in turmoil. It was a beautiful place and somehow reminded her of home or the faded memory she had, Y/N smiled, she would see home again soon and then those forests would fade.

***

Standing on the edge of the bridge, he watched the river flow unchecked beneath them, his hands tucked into the pockets and the dark waters watching him. Somewhere in the middle of the forest, there must be the old collapsed bridge from which as a kid he dived with his cousins or maybe it was no longer there, it seemed a life ago. In those days Roman had no other thoughts, spent day and night outside the house, running among the trees, bathing in the river, eating wherever he could thanks to his father role. Now he was the one to provide for everyone, to ensure that other kids went around ignoring what was beyond their borders, the very thought of it led him to run a hand on his temple, where the wound was still throbbing.

It had been a bad deal, lasted even longer than he would have liked, but it had to be done and it was over now. The world had moved on, it was no longer that of his father or of those who had come before him, the economy was spinning, you could not isolate yourself. Their blood was watered down, it was full of betas out there that had been given fillers they shouldn't have, pumped alphas that made big voice without really knowing how to stand up to it, identical omegas that weren't right even to relieve a little bit of tension, most people had even forgotten how to shift. The packs that remained faithful to the past had had to adapt, compromise, be smart and find other ways to maintain control, but it still happened that some beast jumped out of nowhere claiming what did not belong to them and then you had to be ready to pour some blood.

- We could expand the refreshment areas by reopening the stretch over the bridge, some camping areas, a couple of rowing facilities - he heard the men chattering behind him, a group of betas and two alphas in suits and ties arrived there from the city.

They even put on helmets. Helmets… as if they were going to climb or extract stones from a mine, weak. He pursed his lip and a shiver of nervousness moved his body, his aura suddenly widening, chilling them all without exception. They made proposals, them. To him.

- No.

- My Tribal Chief? - Paul mumbled submissively next to them, a folder in his hands and his gaze wandering worriedly over him.

Roman remained with his eyes fixed on the river, the black water flowing silently ignoring each of them and returned his hand to his pocket, reaching the car in a few steps without waiting for anyone else.

He had to compromise, do business and feed each of his people, but he dictated his rules in his land and the deals were deals. His family came before everyone, no matter how much money they had to make, he wasn't going to sell his home to groups for trips, picnics or churning out bastard puppies in camping tents. He had consented to those things on specific plots, along the borders, not on what his blood considered sacred.

- From the bridge up it's for us. - he reminded everyone.

- As you like my Tribal Chief - Heyman indulged him with a little curtsy, exchanging the last goodbye chatter with the businessmen.

Roman didn't deign to greet them, didn't even look at them, didn't care. His phone vibrated in his pocket, as it had been doing continuously for years now, a flood of news and monitoring that came from the most distant places, from everyone, even those who did not have a mental connection with him. A few minutes passed and the wiseman sat down next to him, talking about details, future meetings, trips to be made in the city to meet face to face who knows who. Those matters bored him, but usually he was able to pay enough attention to know the bare essentials about the money they were going to make, the benefits they were going to get, but today he was less interested than the previous ones. The wound throbbed, yet that wasn't what made him uncomfortable, he had a strange feeling on him, something he had never felt and could not explain and all he wanted was to go home after two weeks of traveling, rest and run. With his back relaxed against the suv seat, he closed his eyes and listened: the engine of the car, the trees that followed one after the other between the curves of road, the gravel under the tires, too many voices crammed together, maybe a bus... the river.

***

She put the bag on the floor, looking at the entire house from the kitchen, living room, recreational area. Two windows on one side, one on the other and two skylights on the mezzanine where they had placed the bed.

- There is a motel in town and they have a real hotel on the military base. They also have a restaurant with a chef. - the woman who had welcomed her repeated for the umpteenth time, a condescending smile that served as a certificate of presentation and her eyes trying not to look at Y/N again.

She and her husband, a big man from the islands that Y/N had been waiting for disappeared around the estate before crossing the door - just to avoid any further risks - managed that small group of rooms for campers who could not find a place in the areas dedicated. It was more a house where you could pitch your tent without permission than a hospitality business, but at that moment for Y/N a car seat would have been fine too, a fact that the woman evidently found it hard to believe judging by her behavior. Y/N had seen her arrange the cushions on the armchair and the vase at the entrance at least a dozen times, even she was not in front of a judge or her mother-in-law. She was anxious, her body began to emit an unmistakable smell and Y/N took off her shoes and distractedly tied her hair, to give her an impression of normality.

- The room is perfect, I just need to rest maybe a day or two and then I will go. - she explained casually, giving that information to reassure her.

She had already had enough meetings that day, she didnt need a worried omega ready to go crazy for her high heels. She really just wanted a place to recover some energy before leaving and there was no reason to create unnecessary problems or attract more attention.

- I can prepare you something... if you are hungry - she proposed a little quieter, while Y/N looked around more carefully, reaching the top of the stairs that led to the mezzanine.

- Maybe later.

- Sure, I'll let you rest, sure... I'll go then. - she finally greeted her, closing the door after a last moment of hesitation and Y/N waited to see her walk away from the window before moving.

She closed the lock more out of habit than out of necessity and headed for the bathroom, taking a shower before putting on something more comfortable, that didn't smell like buses and waffles. After half an hour spent taking care of her body, she finally let herself sink into the armchair next to the window, her legs between the soft pillows and a cup in her hands. Her muscles had relaxed, her back no longer bothered her from the hours of travel and all the exchanges she had made, there was a pleasant silence in that place and although the decor was not at all to her liking with all those lace and wooden wall units everywhere, even that little cottage she didn't mind.

Yet Y/N just couldn't understand what seemed out of place... she had a strange feeling, a tingle under her skin that had bothered her since she had crossed that state line and that had grown stronger inside the Blackwater reserve. She liked that place, there was a peaceful, green atmosphere everywhere, nothing to motivate that annoyance. Maybe it was the pack presence, those two in the city had not been very friendly... that guy in a tank top had smelled her across the street.

She checked her phone carefully, there was no warnings and her calendar had no notes. She was still very much away from her next heat, she had planned the trip at that time on purpose and she hadn't experienced any signs of failure in the previous weeks. In her bag she had a whole box of suppressants. It couldn't have been her smell that called him, maybe he just recognized something different and snapped, it was a thing that often happened to the alphas, they were territorial, competitive and if they knew how to shift – as Y/N suspected for those two - it got worse.

She dropped the phone on the windowsill, resting her head on the back with a sigh, and surveyed the portion of the property that could be seen from there. The well-kept garden, the fence, the road that went up towards the refreshment areas and the row of trees that bordered the wood. She was thinking too much and worried about the rest of the trip, it had nothing to do with that place. She just wanted to go home.

***

He'd found them waiting for him on the back porch messing around as usual, yelling at each other under Solo's bored gaze. Where they found all that puppy energy when they were grown up, Roman could not explain, but his cousins had always been like this for as long as he could remember and the same was true for Naomi, so everything was normal. More or less.

- Hey Big Uce - she greeted him, without removing the arms from her chest and Jimmy quickly echoed her with one of his smiles, but Roman hardly paid any attention.

- What happen to your face? - he asked, studying Jey who was sitting on the steps.

His cheekbone was swollen, skin tight as if it had been about to open. It was not a fall, that was a blow and also given well. Had he been missing for two weeks, had he entrusted everything to them while he was away and now he found him like this?

- Guess what? He deserved it. - Naomi clarified, swinging her head as offended, Jey widened his chest.

- You two should have lemme do it! They held me back! - he barked, jumping to his feet.

- Sure we held you back, you can't go around sniffing who's passing by Uce! - Jimmy tried to make him think about it, a feat that he had been trying from birth and without results.

- Hey hey! I had a reason, that one smelled strange! And she kicked me, its normal? Hm, its normal?!

- You scared everyone on da bus! Y’were yelling in middle of the street!

With his ears already hurting, Roman raised a hand, silencing them all to take stock, while the car that would take them to the city turned around the perimeter of the avenue to reach them.

- ... lemme understand. A woman kicked you after you smelled her? - he repeated, struggling to keep from laughing in his face.

It was damn ridiculous. Those things happened when you were a puppy, when you didn't know how to behave and took the step longer than necessary, certainly not when you were a grown ass alpha.

- Almost sniffed, she didn't give him time.

Roman turned to look at him again, this time laughing seriously. Wasn't he even able to do it?!

- I felt somethin! The smell of her was... wasn't the smell of a normal omega. Was different, she… she had something known, something I had already scented! - he raved angrily, seeing him laugh, but the more he went on the more ridiculous that story became.

- Y’know Takecia is inside, right?

- Yo man! I didn't smell her for that!

Roman ran a hand over his face, reaching the Wiseman who was waiting for him with the car door open and an enthusiastic smile for the evening that awaited them, while those three still insisted on messing up and inspired a deep breath of air, enjoying the peace - or whatever it was - of his family. They spent the rest of the time in town, in one of those restaurants that Heyman had reserved especially for them, eating steaks and drinking heartily, between the jokes of Jimmy trying in vain to get Solo in trouble and the wiseman ranting with all the female waiters for the glances they cast at their table. They stayed longer than expected, enjoying that well-deserved, thoughtless break as the city emptied and people returned to their homes. When they finally decided to leave, a cold breeze blew from the forest more than welcome on that month of the year. It was the perfect time for a run and his cousins didnt have him repeated twice, agreeing to go once they arrived at the reserve, taking opportunity to check the north borders.

He needed to stretch his paws, feel the earth beneath him, the scent of fallen leaves and the wind whispering in his ears. He wanted to exhaust himself and release his energy, tension accumulated in the previous weeks that did not seem to have left him. He had a strange agitation under his skin, something his wolf longed to vent, probably due to the fighting he had recently been engaged in and which now clashed with the tranquility and safety of what he called home. The adrenaline was difficult to dispose of and unexpectedly Roman found himself hearing it increase, when something filled his lungs from the lowered window of the car.

- Stop - he ordered abruptly, opening the car door before the wheels could even stop completely.

Both the Wiseman and his cousins called him worried, delaying in reaching him just long enough to give Roman time to plant himself in the middle of the empty road, head wandering from side to side trying to find the trail that had gripped his body in a vise.

- My Tribal Chief?

- Whatts up Uce?

Deaf to their questions, Roman moved as if in a trance, legs unable to stay still and his senses on alert. It had been an imperceptible moment, something that perhaps came from afar, he no longer felt it now and his muscles were tightening, the anger mounting.

Find it, find it, find it.

His ears were ringing, blood was pumping into his head like a roar, eyes wandering in search of anything, along the asphalt, beyond the empty ground on the other side of the road. There was a house somewhere and a church, maybe it had come from there, but his nose didn't feel anything and Roman ran both hands over his face, his wolf growling impatiently and annoyed.

It's not there, find it. Find it.

His body was in a state of agitation, a tension he had never felt before, not even facing an enemy, not even in the middle of a fight. His mind seemed to have turned off, he wasn't thinking and all he could hear at that moment was his blood flowing and the need to find that trace. He moved without a plan, hitting the road for the few meters the car had passed before he stopped it, his head in the air and the tension increasing. Someone touched him on the shoulder, perhaps to make him regain consciousness, Jimmy, but chased him away with a brusque gesture. His bones, Roman could feel them vibrating and his breath was catching in his throat, why couldn't he find it?

He left the road, charging towards the empty ground. That wasn't the direction, but he had to try, he had to. Maybe it was inside that house, maybe something had watered it down and that was the reason he couldn't smell it anymore. He was starting to see a trail on either side of his eyes, his tense shoulders rolling to release the pressure that threatened to collapse, and then he felt it again. His head snapped back, in direction of the wood from which the wind had come, there was Jey in front of him, but Roman didnt even see him as his bones creaked and his muscles stretched. He saw nothing.

Mate. Find her. Find her. Mine. Take her. Mine. Mine.

***

Sitting on the cottage porch, Y/N put away her toast. Her stomach was acting up, but she didn't want to eat and the wind was starting to bother her. She hugged her jacket with a shiver to make her bones vibrate, some of the guests on the estate were celebrating, she could hear the muffled noise of a badly played guitar, laughter and the smell of the bonfire... suddenly she raised her head, wide eyes wandering the empty garden along the path that led to the other cottages. What was that smell?

Smells good. Stay. Stay. Good.

There was no one, not yet, but she felt him. She was used to hearing them in advance, before they swooped in on her, she had trained for that, she knew what to do and so why wasn't she succeeding? Her legs seemed blocked, her muscles tense with apprehension, she was not afraid of him, her ears were ringing. She had to get out of there, she had to do it now, he was running straight to her. She stood up, going down step after step, her head was bursting, her blood pounding in her veins.

Stay. Stay. Good. Lower your head. Stay.

Her she-wolf was prey to a mixture of euphoria and anxiety, she was trying to hold her back and that was the last thing Y/N wanted at that moment. No way that thing was good…

On another occasion she would have tried to stand up to whoever was coming, she knew how to do it, she could do it, but she felt strange and she didn't like that feeling. It was new, it had never happened to her and she was struggling to keep what she had inside of her at bay. She took her hands off the porch and clenched her fists, eyes on the dark row of trees on the edge, she felt his paws on the ground. She will act the edge of the cottage, abandoning everything that belonged to her inside and ran down the driveway, the voice inside her head as she whimpered for the space she was trying to put between them. She had to get to that party, find other people, no matter who or what they were, she couldn't stay there or...

Cocoa butter, sweat, good. Mate. Home. Stay. Mate. Mate.

The growl that hit her, made her bones and earth vibrate under her feet, her belly tightened in a vise and Y/N closed her eyes for a second, stopping where she stood.

It couldn't be true, it had to be a mistake, she was wrong.

Her wolf had screamed mate and a bitter smile folded her lips, it was a damned nightmare. But she had no intention of playing the part of the girl who was butchered, not her, not when she was one step away from leaving. She slowly turned, trying to regain control of her body in turmoil and her eyes instantly stared at him, from the tips of his dark hairy ears to his giant paws embedded in the earth. He oozed alpha from every pore and Y/N looked inside his golden eyes.

- You better calm down big boy or I'll make a fur coat with you. That’s not the way.

An annoyed growl came out of his throat like a rumble, but Y/N remained unmoved nonetheless. He could make his big scary voice with someone else, she had no intention of giving it to him and he had to guess it, because as it came out of nowhere, he came on her, forcing her to squat. She dug her feet into the black fur under his thick neck and heard him whine for a moment, her inner wolf complaining about her, trying to make her stop, but she didn't want to stop, she couldn't. She wouldn't get caught, even at cost of being torn apart. She saw him shake his head in annoyance, his teeth clenching with an eerie noise around nothing, his ears twitching over his head as she tried again. The big guy was fast in spite of his size and Y/N slipped over once again, not caring about rolling around on the grass, she had to do it in that form or the big guy would have come up with weird ideas without even having invited her to a date. She barely managed to get on her knees and a shiver ran through her body, causing her to turn back in the direction of the woods. She saw her alleged mate plant himself in front of her like a wall, to protect her, trying to muffle whoever was coming and the rest for her was just a bad blow to the head and darkness.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanross @wickedsunfire @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @mcreignsera @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @jeyreigns @civildawn @minanajra @romanmydaddy @raidenandreigns @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @itjazzbicch @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @mariamheeeeee @vintage-pvssy @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @helensanders92 @niknakbucks92 @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reignsxroman @kianaleani @daguenoire @iyoskyslover @extra-11 @josphinna @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18

[ravenya003]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: I Robot, You Jane, S01E08

So, back when I started this project I said that I’d watch an episode every Saturday and then post my thoughts on Sunday. Yeah, that was wildly optimistic. The new plan is that I’ll just post when I have time.

This is our first Willow-centric episode, and just like our first Xander-centric episode (“Teacher’s Pet”) it’s not very good. But I still have a soft spot for it, and if nothing else the introduction of Jenny Calendar (hurray!) prevents it from being complete filler, even though none of the events of this episode are ever mentioned afterwards. At least, I’m pretty sure no one ever brings up the demon-on-the-internet again.

The cold open takes place in 1480. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the only flashback that predates this one in the show’s entire chronology is Aud/Anya’s backstory, which won’t be seen until season seven. So, this is a big swing for what is only the show’s eighth episode.

A guy called Carlos steps out of the shadows and is promptly killed after confessing his love to a horned demon called Moloch the Corruptor. Farewell Carlos, we knew you not at all. This is followed by a number of monks frantically chanting a spell which causes Moloch to dissipate and reappear as letters in an old book. As the finishing touch, his face appears on the cover.

Random comment: Despite crucifixes repelling vampires, Christianity isn’t exactly treated with a lot of reverence on this show. But if the religion is going to be represented, I’ve noticed that priests will invariably be bad guys, and monks (like these ones, or the ones that made Dawn) will always be good guys.

Also, the makeup/prosthetics on Moloch is really good, so I don’t blame the editors for putting him in both the opening credits of the show and Buffy’s nightmare sequence from the pilot episode.

The cold open ends with the monks sealing the book away, and portentously stating that nobody must ever read it again. That’s our cue to skip forward over five hundred years, to where it’s inevitably being removed from its storage crate by Buffy in the library.

The Scoobies are helping Giles scan his ancient tomes into the computer, and the whole thing is our first glimpse of a recurring theme throughout the show: modern tech meets old-school medievalism. It’s not my favourite aspect of the series, though I suspect it was one of Joss Whedon’s, since it comes up fairly regularly (think the Frankenstein’s Monster episode, or season four’s Adam. Occasionally it does provide some great scenes, like Xander giving Buffy the rocket launcher to take out the Judge in “Innocence” or Buffy and Riley coming face-to-face with a crossbow and rifle respectively in “Hush,” but for the most part I prefer the archaic tools that the Scoobies use).

In any case, this at least is a neat idea for an episode: a demon is given access to the internet after a scanner “reads” the book and uploads it into virtual reality. There’s a lot you can do with that premise.

This scene also introduces us to three new characters: some rando called Dave is helping them with the scanning, along with another student called Fritz, who is introduced with this line: “The printed page is obsolete. Information isn't bound up anymore. It's an entity. The only reality is virtual. If you're not jacked in, you're not alive.” Just in case you were wondering whether he was going to be a good guy or not.

But also on hand is... Jenny Calendar, the computer science teacher! Yes! She’s one of my favs. I always forget she was introduced this early, and she’s awesome right off the bat. The banter between her and Giles is quintessential Belligerent Sexual Tension. From their first exchange, you know it’s only a matter of time before they jump each other.

Willow, our poor darling nerd, is enjoying herself. Seeing at her at this early stage, I’m struck by the fact that she’s the character (with the possible exception of Cordelia) who will go through the most profound changes across the course of the show. At this point, she’s simply trying to find something that makes her special – right now, she makes it the subject she’s most interested in: books and knowledge (which feeds into her contribution to the good fight) but which also is the starting point of her dabbling-in-magic-to-become-powerful-witch-pipeline.

With that in mind, it’s interesting that techno-pagan Jenny is also introduced in this episode, as she’s an important stepping stone on Willow’s journey into witchhood.

My take on Willow is that although it’s never spelt out, she knows on some level that her friendship with Buffy is what makes her special, and she’s subconsciously railing against that (and will continue to do so long after this episode). She’s bullied at school, she’s thwarted in love by Xander, she’s perpetually in Buffy’s shadow – she wants SOMETHING to assure her she’s enough on her own terms.

In this episode, that mentality makes her an easy mark for Moloch’s manipulation, as she’s all-in on the romance not just for its own sake, but because it makes her feel chosen. Moloch obviously had some mind-control powers at work here, but Willow is also an easy target based on the insecurities she has about herself. Seven years later, she’d never fall for this so easily.

The next day she’s walking on air, as she spent the night talking to a guy called Malcolm Black on-line. And it’s soon apparent that Dave and Fritz are communicating with someone through the internet as well.

Oh man, look at these monitors!

Buffy is a little unsure about Willow’s story, and the computer camera zooms in on Buffy’s face, electronically goes through her personal files, and then sends them to Fritz with a missive to “watch her.”

Xander is suddenly not keen on the idea of Willow having a boyfriend, and Buffy calls him out on jealousy. She’s right – not because he’s attracted to Willow at this point, but because he “d’wants” her. That is, he doesn’t want Willow himself, but he doesn’t want anyone else having her either.

Shots demonstrate that Willow, Fritz and Dave are getting sucked further into Malcolm’s thrall, and during a discussion with Dave to try and ascertain how she can track down someone on-line, Buffy comes to the not-unreasonable conclusion (based on his reaction) that Dave is Malcolm. He’s not, and he clams up uncomfortably when she presses him. Fritz glowers in the corner.

Giles isn’t sure what to do (he’s computer illiterate) and advises Buffy to tail Dave. We get a vastly underrated gag in which Buffy asks: “Follow Dave? What, in dark glasses and a trench coat? Please. I can work this out myself,” which cuts immediately to her following Dave in a trench coat and sunglasses. Superb.

They end up at a massive computer factory called CRD, where we get the POV of a security camera noting Buffy’s arrival. Xander surprisingly ends up being a font of knowledge on the subject, as his uncle once worked there as a janitor. Before its closure several years ago, it was the third-largest employer in Sunnydale. (What are the first two? Got to be the funeral parlours and the cemetery caretakers, right?)

In an on-line conversation, Malcolm tries to drive a wedge between Willow and Buffy by citing the latter's school records (namely that she got kicked out of her old school) but Willow isn’t so far gone that she can’t spot a red flag when she sees it. She logs off pretty quickly.

Back in the library, the flirt-fight between Jenny and Giles over the relevance of computers continues, until she notices Moloch’s book and points out that the pages are all blank. This occurs concurrently with Dave telling Buffy that Willow wants to see her in the locker room, and Buffy very nearly getting electrocuted to death by exposed wiring left in a running shower. She survives only because Dave gets cold feet at the last second and warns her before making a run for it.

We’re then treated to the most harrowing scene of the episode, in which Dave confronts Malcolm (or at least a computer) and tells him he refuses to be complicit in his plans. Then, the computer writes him a suicide note. Just imagine how horrifying this would be, to realize not only that your death is imminent, but that everyone believes it’ll be at your own hands.

Fritz is lurking in the shadows of the room... He went dark side very quickly.

Back again at the library, Giles gives Buffy the English remedy to everything (tea) before offering a solution to strange events of the week: Moloch the Corruptor has been released from his book!prison by someone reading the words that held him there.

There’s a nice bit of back-and-forth as the gang piece together all the clues to reach a logical conclusion: Moloch has gone from the book, and yet no one has seen a giant demon wandering around. Buffy questions why Moloch is going through middle-men like Dave and the factory-workers at CDR instead of doing all the work himself. And how did someone manage to speak the words in the book anyway, as they’re not in English?

All the disparities point to one thing: Moloch is in the computer, and got there via the scanner. Like I said before, this is a neat idea and was backed up by the establishing dialogue at the start of the episode that laid out what the internet was capable of (‘cos back in the nineties, not everyone knew).

Buffy goes searching for Willow, and instead finds Dave in the computer lab... hanging from the rafters.

And, wow do I have a lot of questions in the wake of this scene. Does Buffy just leave him hanging there? Does no one call the authorities? If not, then who found him next? Do they let the suicide note stand? Are his parents forced to live the rest of their lives believing their son killed himself? And isn’t it crazy that everyone keeps on using this room in future episodes? (Though I suppose in Sunnydale, citizens would run out of places to exist if they stopped entering places that people had been murdered in).

Willow’s house! Why is it so exciting to see Willow’s house? In any case, her parents aren’t home (and her father never will be) and she’s spooked by her computer telling her she’s got mail... from Malcolm. Then she foolishly opens the front door and is grabbed by Fritz.

Giles takes the plunge and tells Jenny that a demon is on the loose on the internet, to which she says: “I know.” Robia Scott delivers that line a little oddly, in that she makes it seem like Jenny is the one responsible for releasing Moloch, but apparently it’s just meant to be a surprise that she takes Giles’s revelation in her stride. Turns out that she’s what’s called a “technopagan” who is well-aware of all the weirdness that goes on in Sunnydale.

(It’s obvious that the writers’ room had not yet decided on Jenny’s backstory at this point, which posits her as a member of the Roma clan which laid the curse on Angel – in fact, she was specifically sent to Sunnydale by her people in order to keep an eye on him – but they got lucky in giving her this link with magic right off the bat, as it fits in nicely with what we learn about her later. A bit like Aunt Beru’s “he’s too much like his father” comment in Star Wars, which was just a line in the first movie, but paid off dividends in the next two – entirely serendipitously).

Willow wakes up in CRD to discover that the reason it’s been swarming with scientists and workers lately is because Moloch has had them build a robot version of himself. He demonstrates its power by promptly snapping Fritz’s neck.

Buffy and Xander arrive on the scene (she leaps neatly over the fence, he trips and lands on his face) and make their way into the building. I love this shot, in which Buffy punches a receptionist in the face without breaking her stride:

The two of them try to make their way to Willow as Moloch delivers his pitch to her (she’s not buying it) and Giles and Jenny remotely perform the incantation that trapped him in that book all those centuries ago. Giles chants and Jenny types, with the help of her “on-line coven.” We learn nothing more about these people, either in this episode or any other – but in hindsight, they’ve got to be the rest of the Romani clan, no?

Willow is genuinely upset at Moloch’s betrayal. Xander punches out a technician and is super excited about it. Buffy realizes that Moloch isn’t back in the book, but rather trapped inside his robot body, and it takes only a little taunting for him to throw a punch at her and end up electrocuting himself on the contents of the circuit box behind her.

And this here, this shot:

...is why I love this show, specifically in its earliest seasons. At the end of the day, this is a story about three teenagers who are completely in over their heads, facing down the weirdest and most dangerous shit imaginable, but who are still in it together, no matter what. I can draw a direct correlation between the quality of any given episode and how far it adheres to/strays from this focus on the trio of Buffy, Willow and Xander as a team of misfits facing down the unimaginable.

And so, the wrap-up. Giles goes to thank Jenny for her contribution, and makes his case for books: they have texture and scent and history. She seems to get it, and then thanks him for returning her earring in a very odd moment that has her inform him: "[my ear] isn’t where I dangle it."

This, except he's saying: "is she going to dangle it from her vagina?"

And then, one of my favourite ending scenes of the entire show. Xander and Buffy try to cheer up Willow by commiserating with her on their equally terrible string of crushes and relationships. “We’re doomed!” they conclude. And they are. They realize it themselves a second later. All of them will end the show single.

But it’s okay, because they’ll always have each other.

***

Like I said, I’m fond of this episode despite its silliness. The plot itself is pretty thin, and generally speaking I don’t love the Buffy episodes that employ “weird science”. The show always falters a little when it leans into this vibe: see the Frankenstein/Ted/Human-Fish episodes, plus the entirety of the Initiative arc. Give me old-school vampires and demons, every time.

But I stand by the fact that a demon getting loose in the internet and causing havoc is a solid premise, and the script also managed to tap into our collective fear of catfishing and online predators WELL before its time. It also has some great dialogue and one-liners, provides some insight on Willow’s psyche that will be built on later, and introduces the one-and-only Jenny Calendar. You can’t skip it in the same way you can skip “Teacher’s Pet.”

Miscellaneous Observations:

I’ve already talked about Willow, but this episode really is fascinating if you treat it as the starting point of her arc. She’s shy and unassuming, she genuinely loves “nerdy” pastimes like scanning old books and talking on-line, and her insecurities make her an easy target for Malcolm’s manipulation. You can draw a straight line between this early characterization and where she ends up at the end of season six: glutted with power, resentment and destructive rage.

Dark Willow wasn’t just about Tara, it was about the deep-seated hostilities inside Willow from the very beginning... but we’ll get there. For now, I’ll just say that I’ve always felt Willow harbours the tiniest little seed of resentment toward Buffy for their social standing. As much as Willow loves her, in this episode she actually verbalizes the envy she feels at Buffy’s ability to attract male attention. That’s very funny in post-season four hindsight, and given where she ends up I’m inclined to believe it’s not just about boys. Willow wants to be special for her own sake, and at this point she’s envisioning that as someone liking her for who she is.

It's a type of insecurity that’s subtly different from what Xander feels. His is all about his masculinity in the presence of people who are far more powerful than himself, which paradoxically requires him to cleave even tighter to the women who upstage him (see his immediate anxiety about Willow prioritizing someone other than himself). For Willow, it’s about herself and how she measures up, which requires a degree of distance from those who make her feel inadequate.

Xander needs to have Buffy and Willow in his life – they make him special by association, and he eventually comes to accept his role as “the one who isn’t chosen.” Willow, on the other hand, is a little resentful of the importance that Buffy bestows on her existence, and wants something outside the constraints of the friend-group to validate her own specialness, something that’s hers alone. She’ll get there eventually.

While Buffy and the gang were investigating Moloch, there were a number of fun little second-long vignettes that demonstrated the chaos being strewn across the rest of the world: a guy whose essay is changed into a pro-Nazi manifesto, a school nurse insisting that a student’s record had no mention of his allergies, and a radio broadcast that announces financial discrepancies in the church coffers (so... that last one may not have been Moloch).

It's always a bit weird when the Monster of the Week ends up causing a lot of wide-spread harm, only to never be mentioned again – even in a place like Sunnydale. In this case, Moloch clearly managed to do a lot of damage before his death, not to mention taking over a factory and creating dozens of drone workers. Are there any long-term ramifications to any of this? Not that we ever see!

By later seasons, this show almost exclusively took place in Buffy’s house, various graveyards, the Magic Box, and the Bronze, so I was inordinately excited to see locations like the inside of Willow’s house and the CRD factory. Show me more of Sunnydale! The writers were under no obligation to do so, but they never really gave the place a sense of history or personality; a place that was worth protecting for its own sake.

No Angel or Cordelia this time around.

It’s always mildly amusing when an important character is introduced to the show alongside inconsequential ones. This episode gave us Ms Calendar, who will be an intrinsic part of the show going forward... but also Dave and Fritz, who won’t be. Kind of like how Sheila was introduced in the same episode as Spike, or Scott Hope in the same episode as Faith. Crazy!

It’s also rather startling just how much she stands out compared to other guest stars; she’s so vividly rendered in comparison to the likes of Blayne or Owen. Whether Robia Scott was brought back on the strength of her performance here, or was always intended to be a recurring guest star and so given more characterization is unclear, but you can tell just by watching this episode that she’ll be back.

Speaking of, I looked up the actors for Fritz and Dave on IMDB. Jamison Ryan (Fritz) only ever had three acting jobs in a single year of his life, while Chad Lindberg (Dave) has been working regularly for years: most recently in Star Trek: Picard, but also in other genre shows like Agents of SHIELD, Supernatural and The X-Files.

Dave is the first Sunnydale student since Jesse to be killed during the course of an episode, and I ended up feeling really sorry for the guy. He gets in over his head but tries to do the right thing, and that gets him killed. I’m still genuinely curious over the fallout of his death. Surely the Scoobies did something to convince his parents it wasn’t suicide?

There are plenty of minor details about Xander and Willow in this episode: we see the latter’s house and bedroom for the first time, and learn that her parents do in fact exist (though we’ll never see her father on-screen at any point during the course of the show) while Xander has an uncle that once worked at CRD as a janitor. None of it is hugely relevant, but when you think about it, we learn so little about their home lives that these little scraps are fascinating.

I’m always left wondering how Moloch’s book ended up in Sunnydale. I mean, of course it does, but where did it come from? Did Giles order it? Did the Watchers Council send it?

Jenny makes an interesting comment when Giles asks her if she’s a witch and she responds: “no, I don’t have that kind of power.” I mean, she and Giles had enough power to force Moloch into his robot form. What exactly is a witch’s power by comparison?

I wish the script had delved more deeply into exactly what Moloch’s feelings were for his followers. What exactly was he getting out of the interactions? (Beyond their obedience, obviously). At times he seemed genuinely fond of Willow and then distraught when she rejected him, which was in marked contrast to the indifference with which he killed Fritz and Carlos. I don’t expect much characterization for a Monster of the Week, but it felt like there was something there that will echo other portrayals of toxic love that become so prevalent in episodes to come.

Best Line: Jenny: “you kids really dig the library.” Xander: “to read makes us speak English good.”

Most dated line: Willow: “I met him online.” Buffy: “On line for what?”

Most Random Scene: There’s a moment in which Moloch is bragging about his powers to Willow and he tells her: “I can control the world! Right now a man in Beijing is transferring money to a Swiss bank account for a contract on his mother's life. Good for him!” Er... okay. What an oddly specific anecdote.

Worst Visual Effect: The infamous Robo!Moloch:

Best Scene: My darling trio sitting by the fountain, commiserating with each other on their doomed love lives. It’s funny, heartwarming and – in hindsight – very bittersweet.

Death Toll: Dave, strangled by Fritz. Fritz, neck snapped by Moloch. And Carlos too, I suppose, though I won’t count him because that was way back in 1480. Moloch, electrocuted by Buffy.

Grand Total: Thirteen civilians, fourteen villains (I’m counting Fritz as a villain as he was clearly the most gung-ho about killing people on Moloch’s orders. It didn’t take much to corrupt him). Still feel bad for Dave though.

[raapija]

ooooh, is it okay to ask more language questions? tbh i'm trying with all my might to not start learning finnish cause no time or spoons, but i keep watching all these great subbed interviews, and words keep jumping out lol. so anyway Q#1 - the easiest phrases to pick are those Jere starts his answers with. so like, agreeing noises? lol (the first one i caught was tottakai, which thankfully is written just the way it sounds) SO there's this one that so far was translated as "that's right", "exactly so", "just so"; and it sounds smth like josnai/jusnai (can you tell i have no idea how to spell it). what is it?? please save my brain, i've been thinking about it for a few days already, and online translators are no help cause i can't spell lol. and Q#2 - i've been listening to the esko interview on repeat (shout out to käärijä supporters on youtube who are doing the god's work!), and Jere seems to say niinku quite often. in chachacha's lyrics it was translated as "like". so is it also a parasite word just like "like" can be in english? are people annoyed at its overuse? is Jere menace to society?? anyway sorry for a very long ask, and thanks for all käärijä-posting!

Heyy, thanks for the questions!

Q1: I think you are hearing "just näin", which means "just so" or "that's right". I might be mistaken though, but that's the first that comes to mind from jusnai 😂

Q2: You're exactly right, "niinku" is a word we use as a filler while talking. It means "like", just the way you are saying ! I think everyone uses the word, but maybe younger people more often. But it is super regular in speech, so he's not a menace. He does use a lot of Helsinki-slang in his speech, which is more noticeable to us Finns 😅

Where I'm from, we sometimes pronounce it "niinkö" bc we country-side girlies are weird like that 💚

[mibeau]

[Book Review] Not Here To Stay 🕊

🧮 Score: 4.5/5.0

■ When I first bought the book, it was due to my attraction to its cover design and the synopsis. I was intrigued to find out how the author will play out or interweave the fantasy realms with our Malaysian culture and beliefs. And the deliverance is beyond my expectations. Honestly, I was looking forward to reading fantasy adventure and not melodrama. But, as I read on, I put myself in Amani’s shoes. It started to feel like I was underwater, everything was so dreamy, and Amani kept getting drawn into her thoughts and not fully engaging with reality. So, time, as in plots, almost standing still. I kept going in circles. I remember thinking, was the author purposely doing this to prolong the novel with unnecessary fillers?

Until something nudged her. Triggered her combative personality/attitude. That was when the adventure began. Her quest give me the vibes of “The Divergent Series” collided with “The 13 Charms Trilogy”.

■ The book is divided into three parts. A few pages into the reading, we can sense Amani's moody aura. Like someone who has been scarred and full of rage inside, yet, kept a poker face. Throughout Part One, you can feel the cloudiness and heaviness of her surroundings. And when she’s interacting with other characters or situations, the narration is dreamy. Slowly, although it was still hazy by the middle of part two, the heavy cloud has been lifted. Her mind’s getting sharper, and ultimately in Part 3, the air is clear, and we(Amani) can breathe easily again. It’s like we didn’t realise that we were wheezing this whole time, to stay alive. Moving forward, Amani acquired a freshened thought process with no blockages. I enjoy and appreciate these transitions.

There were too many realistic scenes, to be specific, the locations and the abuses. I thought to myself, this cannot be loosely based on real events, it must be a true story, altered with fantasy realms to make it fiction. To send the message out. And my doubts were answered in the Author’s note at the end of the main plot.

■ When it comes to the fantasy world and its descriptions, the narrative was not as eloquent as the emotions poured. I wasn’t properly immersed and teleported there. It keeps pulling me to bits of many books/films I have read and watched before. The Cloud’s Castle reminded me of bits of “Doraemon: The Kingdom of Clouds”, Kira and her child reminded me of the changeling folklore, the worldsmiths’s systems and bureaucracy reminded me to “Harry Potter” plus “Jumper”. Maybe, slightly, “I am Number 4”. It’s all over the place. But, overall, it worked.

The mystical elements are brilliant metaphors for our states of mind, how they are managed and how they affect our actions and reactions. It is true in most occasions, care alone is not enough. Reminders alone are not enough. It needs the right tools and methods to resolve the entanglements. To convey the validations or clarifications of things we subconsciously know and misunderstand. Bottled feelings are never a good thing. It is a ticking bomb. Its eruption is destructive. (SPOILER ALERT: in this book, the feelings were literally bottled! Haha, amazing!)

Amani’s conversations with Najmi, especially in Part Two, were really therapeutic. In Part Three, the plot twist was a surprise, a good one.

■ The book is written in time jumps. Back and forth is totally fine. I enjoyed it, as much as I enjoyed “The Witch of Portobello” by Paulo Coelho. However, I just don’t think the “plus-minus” of “day counts” at the beginning of every chapter was necessary. It distracted me and caused confusion. So after 10 chapters in, I stopped bothering with it. And start gauging the time period based on contexts. . ■ In gist, it is a journey to recovery and closure. It is melancholic with sparkles and deliciously filling quotes. The metaphors were blended seamlessly. I am 100% impressed. High applause for this book. If you want to see things from the lens of a depressed, grieved person, I recommend you to watch a Kdrama titled: Daily Dose of Sushines. If you want to be in their minds instead, you must read this book. Highly recommended!

■ A playlist to keep you company and immersed in emotions.

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