#if you want new things i'm even happier to oblige

[erstwhles]

hey

[percyluvr]

Hi love your writing. I was wondering if you can do a percy jackson x reader inspired by talk by hozier, basically just about what percy would do for the reader

percy jackson x reader summary: just some drabbles about little things percy does for you that show how much he cares about you wc: 745

I. bringing you breakfast in bed

Today started off as it typically did, you and percy were already breaking camp rules by having you sleep in his cabin. Something was different today, though. you woke up to the feeling of emptiness beside you. Percy's side of the bed, or at least the part of the bed he was sleeping on before he got up, was still warm, meaning that he must've just gotten out of bed, maybe to go to the bathroom or something.

You decided to just go back to sleep and wait for him to come back to bed, but he never did. Instead, you awoke to him softly poking you awake, a tray of food in his hands.

"Hey baby, I woke up and you were still asleep, so I figured, why not get you breakfast and bring it to you?"

You rubbed your tired eyes, smiling at him. "Percy, thank you so much. You're way too good to me."

II. peeling your orange for you

You were sat at the Poseidon table at lunch, picking at your food as you waited for Percy. You watched as the other campers happily talked and ate their food, as you wondered where Percy was.

A few minutes passed, and you finally saw your boyfriend walking up to the table with an insane amount of food on his plate.

"Percy, babe, why do you have so much food? I get you're a growing boy, but damn, that could feed a family of 5," you joked.

"Oh, yeah! I wanted to share with you. I got a bunch of stuff you like, and I managed to get us extra desert," he replied happily.

"Aw, Percy, thank you so much," you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, which he frowned at and pointed to his lips, silently asking for a real kiss, to which you obliged.

Now that Percy was finally here, you could start eating. You started to peel your orange, but Percy snatched it out of your hand.

"I know you hate the smell of oranges on your hands, let me peel it," he told you when he saw the confused look on your face.

III. making you matching bracelets

Today you were supervising the bracelet making activities at camp, and Percy couldn't be happier. Even when you weren't the one leading the activity, it was still one of his favorites, but now he got to see you and make cute bracelets for you.

You went about leading the activity, showing everyone how to make a bracelet before sending everyone off to do their own thing. After teaching them, you began walking around, assisting those who were struggling. when you reached Percy, you knew you wouldn't have to help him because you knew how much fun he had during this activity. You knew because after every time he does it, he can't stop talking about how much fun it is and how cute his bracelet turned out. It always brought a smile to your face to see him having so much fun.

"Hey, Perce, whatcha making?" you ask, lovingly staring over his shoulder at the bracelet he was putting together.

"Just another bracelet for my mom, but look! I made one for you too, and it matches the one I made for myself last time," he says, grinning like a little kid that just got a new toy.

IIII. comforting you after a nightmare

As a demigod, it was normal for you to have insane nightmares, but this was different. It had nothing to do with prophecies, gods, or monsters. It had to do with Percy, or the lack of his presence. You found yourself searching the camp frantically, just for a camper to tell you that Percy had been dead for years, which prompted you to wake up in tears.

You tried to be as quiet as you could, but Percy still woke up. It was like he had a sixth sense for this type of stuff.

"Sugar, what's wrong?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"I'm sorry for waking you, I just, I had a nightmare," you sobbed.

"Yeah? We don't have to talk about it, but whatever it was, it isn't real. Remember that, okay?" He pulled you close and kissed your forehead gently.

"I know, Perce, but you were dead," you sobbed into his chest.

"Hey hey, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, okay?" he comforted, rubbing your back soothingly.

a/n: i hope i did your request right, i wasn't exactly sure how to go about it but i hope i did it justice !

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.103 Every day I'm hustlin'

For the next week, I hustled harder than ever. I went to every spa I knew of and taught 2-3 classes a day. I even went back to our gym in Willow Creek to see about teaching, but they had a full-time instructor. We were in no way hurting financially, but I hadn't worked since we got engaged. And honestly? My work activities slowed significantly when I moved in with Sophia. I wanted to spend time with her and be home when she arrived, but she got off work so early it just threw off my whole day. The money tree was in progress and my SimTube video was still doing great, so I didn't have to work so hard. But I felt compelled to, especially after our last conversation about the money tree and my family history. I had to ensure my family would be set up for success by doing any and everything I could while I had few obligations. I didn't enjoy getting home late and seeing my wife only a few hours a day, but I was willing to sacrifice for a short while.

One morning, I woke up and caught Sophia doing push-ups outside. When we chatted on Social Bunny back in the day, she always talked about how much she loved fitness, but I never saw evidence of that when I moved in. Her job sucked the life out of her, leaving her too physically and emotionally drained to do the things she loved. But she was free now and started prioritizing her health and wellness. Her delicious curves would start slowly disappearing, and I mourned my loss but took solace in knowing she'd be happier and healthier.

An idea fell on me, so I went outside to greet her.

"Good morning, my sweet."

I grabbed her hand and kissed it so over-the-top dramatic like they did in the old movies.

"You're awfully romantic this morning!"

That was a new one. I never saw myself as a romantic.

"I'm going to teach at the Desert Bloom Resort today. Would you like to come?"

"Really? You want me there?"

I chuckled.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know... Some sims get nervous about friends and loved ones seeing them in action."

"Oh. Well, that's definitely not me, seeing as I used my friends and family to get started."

"Okay then! Let me text Rashidah. She was gonna come by this afternoon, but I'll tell her to come later."

We ate, got dressed, and headed to the spa. The class was almost full, which made me happy, but I never had so many sims unwilling to try. Like, I knew everyone came with varying levels of fitness, and I never did complicated routines because of that. Alternate poses existed for that very reason, but half of my class just stood there. Why pay and not participate? It must be nice to have money to waste.

Sophia had taken a mat in the back, so I couldn't see her very well. But every time I caught a glimpse of her, she struggled. By the end of class, she looked miserable.

"Everything hurts," she said. "I pulled muscles I didn't even know I had!"

I didn't enjoy seeing her miserable, but her talking about muscles she didn't know she had made me chuckle a little. I knew just the thing to cheer her up.

"Come with me."

I led her upstairs to the massage rooms and found a masseuse who wasn't busy.

"Hi," I said.

"Oh, hey. You're the yoga guy, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Luca. This is my wife, Sophia. Would you mind if I borrowed your table? I'll pay if-"

"Have at it, bro. I get paid the hour. But if you don't mind, I'm gonna stay in the room. Can't let them see me slacking, ya know?"

"Sophia? Do you mind if she stays?"

"Not at all! This is so exciting and romantical!"

She changed into a towel and hopped on the table, and I attempted to melt away her pain.

I wondered why she thought it was romantic, though. Was it because of her history? Or was it mine? I had an unused skill, and my wife had a need. Was being a good husband romantic? Regardless, I was glad she enjoyed the massage. Too bad weren't alone, though. I could have massaged everything and made sure she had a very happy ending. But I behaved, and Sophia left feeling much better. Maybe I should get a table for the new house....

She wanted to check out the rest of the facility as she'd never been before, so I went downstairs to the gym. The punching bag made me remember me, Maia, and Dub's debate about the best exercise, and I told him I gained all my muscle from yoga, never lifting weights or punching a bag. I went a few rounds, and it was honestly kind of fun. I let out steam I didn't know I had and felt my muscles engaging and contracting so much I knew if I kept it up I'd be walking around looking like Llama Man. No disrespect to him, but the superhero look was not for me. The weights and punching bag would have to remain an occasional activity.

Rashidah came by later, just like Sophia said. I didn't want to be rude and ignore her, but I also didn't want to be all up in their business, so I stayed and chatted with them for a little while before excusing myself. It occurred to me I hadn't checked on the money tree in a while, so I hurried outside to see if it was okay.

Good thing I caught it when I did because it was full of weeds, and the leaves had withered. The soil was still pretty damp from my initial watering, so I guess the weeds were choking it out. I never aspired to be a gardener. Apart from Mama making me water and weed her soy plants, I didn't know a thing about it or care. But my family's future now required me to get on board. Luckily, I only had one tree to tend, not an entire garden. I could manage that for a lifetime of financial freedom.

[rainbowsky]

hi, new turtle here and kind of clueless about a lot of things especially how to support GG and DD if we're from intl fandom. that is, I know DD has a lightstick, I know GG has other things..? (which are those?) my point is, how do we as intl fans support them? for Thai actors I know that we can donate money for advertisements and whatnot, but idk what to do for GG and DD. do you have any ideas? thank you and sorry if this message isn't very clear, my English is bad today >_<"

Hi new turtle! 💛🐢💛 Your English is just fine. ☺️

Sorry for the delay in replying to this, I've had very little time lately for Tumblr and I'm hopelessly behind on asks!

I know I've talked about this a bit in the past but finding older posts on Tumblr can be insanely difficult, so I'll go over some of my thoughts on this again.

Standard disclaimer: This is my personal opinion, not a list of demands or directives. Everyone gets to decide how they want to engage in fandom. There is absolutely no obligation to do any of these things, and doing these things does not make you a better fan than anyone else. Nor is anyone who is unable to do these things a lesser fan. The primary goal of fandom is to enjoy yourself (without harming others). I encourage each of you to find your own path and hold your head high, and never let anyone dictate your fandom experience or bully you for your choices.

I'm going to focus on things anyone can do without spending a lot of money or investing a huge amount of time. Alongside that I'll give some advice for those who want to take things further, and warn of some things we might want to avoid.

1 ] Be the best people we can be

The number one thing we can do is live our best lives, be the best people we can be, and help make the world a better place.

From a fandom perspective, we should all be striving to represent GG and DD in the best possible light by being a positive example of fandom at its best. Be kind, be compassionate, be open-minded. Don't bully others, don't engage in fan wars, don't trash other artists or fans. Respect other fans, artists and fandoms.

It's also important to think of how best to respect and protect them, and ensure we aren't painting them in a bad light.

Consider all the ways GG and DD inspire us to make the world a better place, and be the kind of person that reflects their goodness. Behave in ways that would make GG and DD proud, and that show turtles to be a positive force in the world.

Spend time with family, work toward our own goals and dreams. Don't over-invest ourselves in being their fan. This is something GG especially has urged fans to do for years and years.

Taking it to the next level

Lead by example and share that message/approach with others (in a kind, non-judgmental way). Do charitable works in their name (even if it's just in your own local area). Support causes that they would appreciate.

Some causes GG and DD have supported in the past: disaster relief, animal welfare, youth organizations that support disadvantaged kids, autism orgs. Consider orgs that help get kids involved in sports and in the arts. Theater and performance orgs as well. Given the nature of this fandom, you might also want to consider supporting queer orgs (there is a list of queer refugee orgs in this post).

I honestly believe that more than any other thing we could do to support them, this would BY FAR make GG and DD the happiest - just knowing that their fans are inspired to do kind things for others. They would be happier knowing our money is helping those in need, rather than being wasted on things we don't really need in some misguided desire to 'support them'.

Stay away from

Never behave cruelly or in a warlike manner toward other fans, artists or fandoms - especially not 'in GGDD's name'. I can't count how many times I've seen hateful people sporting GG or DD-related usernames and avatars invading other people's fandom spaces to attack them.

Don't support the stalker economy, and make sure the material we connect with them is not harmful. More on that here.

Avoid being taken advantage of. Always do your due diligence before giving money to any cause or organization to ensure they are legitimate and reputable.

2 ] Enjoy and promote their works

Another extremely important thing we can do is enjoy their work and show our support with reviews, ratings, and word-of-mouth recommendations. After all, this is the core of what their careers are about, and it's what they put so much hard work into and make so many big sacrifices for.

A list of key projects and how to view can be found here.

Taking it to the next level

Buy subscriptions on platforms where their work is being shown, buy tickets for their films, etc.

If the films are showing in a region you can't travel to, you can still buy tickets for turtles who can't afford to go. Consider organizing group viewings of their work, or helping to spread the word about their projects in other ways.

More suggestions in this post.

Stay away from

Never engage in false reviews, vote manipulation or manipulating view counts. Such behaviors can harm GG and DD and make them look bad.

3 ] Support their brand endorsements

The best way for any fan to do this is to support their brand endorsements on social media with likes, reblogs and gracious, rational, polite comments.

Always be respectful, calm, polite and professional when interacting with brands. Remember that these are professional partners of GG and DD and we should try to show GG and DD in a good light. Our behavior reflects on them.

Taking it to the next level

If it is within our means, we can buy their brand endorsements, but I urge fans to use good judgment and caution when doing so. I have a more detailed post about supporting their brand endorsements here. Bottom line: don't get caught up in spending all your money on things you can't afford or wouldn't have otherwise bought, just because GG and DD are representatives.

If you do decide to explore supporting their endorsements I recommend reading that post because it might give you food for thought, and help you decide where to invest.

Stay away from

Purchase only what you need and will use or gift to others. Never buy anything just to boost numbers. That type of consumer behavior is wasteful and reflects very poorly on GG and DD and can actually backlash harshly against them.

Never engage in sales manipulation behaviors, such as purchasing items to boost sales and then returning them later for a refund. Brands aren’t stupid. They will notice this type of thing and it will factor into how they evaluate GG and DD’s brand performance.

Understand that brands are very skilled at tracking where sales come from, where brand buzz is coming from, etc. It’s not strictly necessary to make any special fanfare about your purchases, and if fan behavior becomes disruptive it can become a negative rather than positive reflection on GGDD.

Never get involved in disruptive fan behavior, regardless of how hard other fans try to instigate you or induce you to do so.

Never spend more than you can afford. GG and DD are both mega-rich, and so are these brands. Have a sense of perspective and self-preservation and realize GG and DD wouldn’t want you to over-extend yourself on their behalf. Brand purchases aren’t even a core aspect of what’s important to their careers, so your impact would be marginal/practically nonexistent anyway.

If you really want a brand to know you support them because of GG or DD, let them know via social media or by contacting them directly. Send them a nice note, mention them in a tweet showing your purchases, or simply thank them for choosing GG or DD - no purchase necessary.

It’s OK to say you are a turtle, just don’t mention CP topics when interacting with brands, and don’t mention GG or DD in interactions with each other’s brands or bring each other’s solo colors into your messages, especially not on Twitter. That will only stir fan wars and cause disruption that the brands will inevitably witness. It’s not a good look.

Related posts

GG and DD’s projects

BXG, Fan Service and Supporting GGDD

Fandom Survival Guide

BXG Fandom Etiquette

Toxic fans and staying in your own lane

Why fan wars/arguing online is such a bad idea

Why it’s so important for our fandom to behave well online

Protecting GGDD

Again, this is all based on my own opinions and perspectives. It's up to every fan to form their own values and take their own path.

I hope this gives you some ideas, Anon! ☺️

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

i'm not here 'cause you say so (my, oh my)

(Friday Night Funkin')

Words: 637

Summary:

Get your ass up 'cause I won't (I won't)

I must've missed the hype

But maybe that's the way I feel (that's the way I feel)

—“I Won’t” by AJR

In which Psychic has taken the fall, Dearest is disappointed, Boyfriend wants answers, and no one benefits from this family’s communication methods.

@/daily-acvoid once said "Psychic's tragedy is comedy to BF and vice versa" and I still think about that sometimes lol

Psyfic taglist: @y010isaghost, @s0methingmoonlit, @flurriethefox, @hoodiehydra

Let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from the taglist!

----------

Heaving a deep sigh, his master's cold words still echoing in his mind, digging at his core, Psychic took a seat on the front steps of the mansion, next to the jasmine he'd planted so many years before. He put his head in his hands, waited for the disappointment and shame and frustration in his chest to simmer down.

It didn't work. Sensing a horribly familiar presence in front of him even after several minutes, Psychic glared up at Boyfriend’s grinning face. "Why are you still here."

Did the little blue imp get some sick entertainment out of watching him suffer? Was every tragedy Psychic endured somehow comedy to him?

"Does this mean we're friends now?"

Was he serious? Psychic fought back the anger bubbling up inside him. It would be so easy to permanently wipe that smirk off the kid’s face…

Unfortunately, he had stopped being that kind of person decades ago. "No."

Boyfriend slumped ever so slightly, a small triumph Psychic readily accepted after all that'd happened today. "But you finally think I'm worthy of her?"

"No." Not that Psychic was going to do anything about that.

"You like me more than Dearest?"

"Hell no."

"You like me?"

"No." Boyfriend's progressive deflation was admittedly funny to watch. "Don't count on that ever happening." And don't count on me to save you like this ever again, Psychic might have added if he didn’t know it was an empty promise.

"So why'd you take the fall?" Boyfriend demanded, pulling his blue hoodie tighter around himself against the chilly evening air. A full moon shone above, just like the first night Psychic had spent on Earth with Dearest.

It seemed to mock him. Time, a flat circle. Disappointment, inevitable.

"I didn't do it for you." Psychic narrowed his eyes.

"I get that, Afton. Why'd you do it anyway?"

Psychic had better things to do. He had no obligation to waste time on this...this disrespectful little...

Usurper, a tiny, scornful, jealous voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Psychic couldn't remember the last time his master had expressed any sort of disapproval towards him. Any disappointment. Being reprimanded had been rare enough even at its most frequent, and had only disappeared over time as Psychic softened up and became more eager to please. More eager for approval.

He hadn't intended to throw all Dearest's pride in him out the window tonight. It had just…happened. Psychic found himself doing things like this more and more often, as time passed and Boyfriend became increasingly comfortable shoving himself into the family where he didn’t belong.

It wasn’t entirely a choice, when Boyfriend was the only reason Girlfriend looked so much happier now.

Psychic had adamantly refused to get involved, when his master first came to him to get rid of the boy. If Girlfriend’s relationship with her father was ultimately going to crumble, Psychic didn’t want to be the reason it did.

How much did his actions tonight — defending Boyfriend, taking his side — reflect that? What did it look like to Dearest, who was supposed to be able to rely on him unconditionally? What counted as crossing the line? Was he willing to risk it? Did he care?

Psychic didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Hey.” Psychic snapped back to the present. A gentle breeze nipped at him, tugging at his jacket. What blue remained in the sky was quickly fading to black. Boyfriend was waving a hand in front of his face. “Psychic? You awake, dude? I asked—”

Psychic swatted it away. “Don’t call me that,” he said sharply, rising to his feet and striding back up the stairs to the front door. “We are not friends. We will never be friends. I hope you’ll remember that.”

“You didn’t even answer my—”

Psychic locked the door behind him.

[torchickentacos]

DREW + 4, 12, and 23

OKAY. TUMBLR'S LETTING ME ANSWER THIS ONE NOW. hellsite. Long post. I joked about being normal and hinged on the other ask about him I answered and CONGRATS, you get unhinged and long-winded thoughts! Curse of being my friend, I'm comfortable being unwell around you and now you get a dissertation <3.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

I mean, here's the thing. Literally any answer is objectively going to be hilarious. He's absurd in whatever you throw him at. Off the top of my head. Skyrim. Any romcom ever. Red Dead Redemption. Zelda. Great British Bake-Off. Like. Literally anything is really funny to imagine kdjfhskjf. Real answer, though, I think he would THRIVE as a Stardew Valley townie. That seems genuinely up his alley. Little florist's shop with a greenhouse in the back, a small-town with plenty of wilderness around to explore, and damn it now I just want to make an SDV pokeani au.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Long section incoming. Lol. Sorry. I have.... thoughts. A couple of 'em, even. Not adding a read-more because at this rate tumblr's gonna auto-shorten this for me.

kdjfhdskjfhdsjfhdsj. okay. You, the one asking this, already know WAY TOO MANY OF MY HEADCANONS ABOUT HIM and you are complicit in all of them lmfao. Assuming the french-canadian thing doesn't count since it's arguably canon (?), here's a potentially ~controversial~ one that literally nobody is obligated to agree with, dw, but I can back it up (sort of) (as much as you can back up ANYTHING in AG): I do not think Drew stays in coordinating in the long-term. Here's the thing. Think about episodes where he's being annoying and high-strung (/affectionate). Now, think about episodes where he seems to actually have serotonin for once. In group one, high-strung, you're going to get a lot of contest (like, contests on stage, not shorthand for shipping)/competition themed episodes. I have my... OPINIONS (/derogatory) about the Absol scene in Thinning the Hoard!, but I can use that as an example of "Well. This can't be great for his emotional wellbeing." EVIDENTLY it stresses him the fuck out. He's never more moody and stressed than he is in grand festivals/contests. But, in group two where he's actually kinda chill (albeit still himself), we have episodes where he's out doing literally anything other than coordinating- Unbeatable Lightness, WWWWW (why is he more relaxed in the episode where he drowns than the episodes where he wins ribbons?), On Cloud Arcanine. Hell, even contest episodes where he's not the one competing! He seems genuinely happier outside of contests.

This isn't even getting into my thoughts on coordinating fame and canon's portrayal of it (which is actually interesting and consistent, if unelaborated on). Some people thrive in that attention. Others won't. I think Drew genuinely loves the ART of contests. The planning of it, the technical side, working out strategies and appeals. And he's good at it. But the other parts of coordinating are things he struggles with and is uneasy with (also seen briefly in Unbeatable Lightness, A Fan With A Plan, and Spontaneous Combusken, my beloved absolute dumpster fire of an episode).

Now, it's a real shame to headcanon him as someone driven out of a career he loves by the culture of it and to just leave it on that sour note, though- so, where does he go from there? I've spoken to friends about it and there's different schools of thought about this- the one I usually lean towards personally is a career change that still allows him to partake in the parts of coordinating that he loved without the parts he hated, like becoming a mentor of sorts for new coordinators. I can see him being, like, a coordinating professor of sorts. Something that still allows the artistic expression and self-challenge, but more contained and focused specifically on the parts he loves about it. I can see him finding more satisfaction through teaching and nurturing others' talents and watching THEM go off and win rather than putting himself through it.

And obviously, his entire canon character is about how he's good at coordinating! This is maybe a weird take that sort of takes canon and does a hard pivot, so absolutely no need to agree at all, and I LOOOOVE interpretations where he stays and thrives in it! Because honestly, on a selfish note, the less he does coordinating the less I have to worry about the rules of contest appeals and battles, so. Can't say I don't have a personal stake in this. Because dear god do not make me try to understand the gen 3 anime's contest point system or lack thereof, what the FUCK.

Anyways. Thoughts. I have them. Sometimes. On occasion.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

lmao. BUT also 1.) every single face he's ever made at Harley, and 2.) every single face he makes in Unbeatable Lightness, which I think this is the third time I've mentioned it here BUT IT'S A GOOD EPISODE AND I'M NOT TAKING ALTERNATE OPINIONS ON THAT! If the sunset scene rewired my brain chemistry as a kid for probably the worse, then that's everyone else's problem and not mine. insert Taylor Swift "Drew looks-" FUCK YEAH MAN HE SURE DOES!!!!!

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Kawi and his sense of Self

I've had Thoughts jumbling around my head for a few days, ever since @waitmyturtles started watching Be My Favourite (and sped through all 7 eps - so great to have you on board!) and having read some really great posts about time travel, the idea of 'present' and 'past', truth, and Kawi's character growth (here, here, here, and here are just a few examples by @waitmyturtles, @rocketturtle4, @wen-kexing-apologist, and @ginnymoonbeam).

But it was @rocketturtle4's addition on this post that made me think more about Kawi and his sense of self, specifically the bolded part of this line:

The overall theme of being who you are regardless of the time you are in feels like it needs teasing out more.

And this might not be interesting to anyone but me, or relevant to the analysis of the show, but it's bouncing around in my brain and I need to write it down.

The above line (and all the talk about Kawi's present and past) made me think about Antonio Damasio's theory of the construction of the Self in his book The Feeling of What Happens:

The idea each of us constructs of ourself [sic]...is based on autobiographical memory over years of experience and is constantly subject to remodelling. (p. 224)

This remodelling occurs through the reworking of memories - so each time we remember a memory we craft it slightly different based on our accumulative life experiences and innate biases.

BUT what really made an impact on me about this is the following:

The changes which occur in the autobiographical self over an individual lifetime are not due only to the remodelling of the lived past...but also the laying down and remodelling of the anticipated future...The memories of the scenarios that we conceive as desires, wishes, goals, and obligations exert a pull on the self of each moment. No doubt they also play a part in the remodelling of the lived past, consciously and unconsciously, and in the creation of the person we conceive us to be, moment by moment. (pp. 224-225)

So how does this relate to Be My Favourite?

Many people have already talked about how Kawi is not a nice person (this is a great post by @respectthepetty). Why does Pisaeng like him? Kawi doesn't even like himself. And, at the beginning of the show, Kawi's Self - his identity - is built from his memories of the past and his immoveable desire of what he wanted and still wishes his future to look like. Kawi is miserable, stuck in a miserable life (of his own making), and unable to make any changes because his idea of what he wants his future to be is impossible.

But then he gets to go back in time, and his sense of self starts changing. It changes because he's remaking his memories in real time, and in remaking those memories he's being exposed to things which are gradually altering his desires and goals for his future.

And that's a huge shift for Kawi. It's almost like going through a break-up - in a break-up, not only do you lose the person you're with but the future life you imagined with them ceases to exist. So you lose your sense of identity. Who are you without them? - Who is Kawi when he's not pining for Pear? Who is Kawi when he gets and loses Pear? Who is Kawi when he dates Pisaeng?...

And it's no wonder everything is still a mess when Kawi jumps forward to his present - he hasn't had enough time in his changed past to process the new memories of his past, nor to honestly admit to himself (or realise, if he's not quite there yet) what he really wants for his future.

And this journey is such a beautiful one to watch. As his memories and future scenarios change, Kawi's sense of self changes - hopefully to a happier, 'better' person...and I mean 'better' in the sense of nicer to other people because he's nicer to himself (and vice versa) and more open to change, rather the rigidity of his 'older' Self stuck in his miserableness.

I think this is why I'm warming up to him, because he is changing, albeit gradually, and changing for the better. He's becoming more pliable in his outlook, choices, and acceptance of things he can't control. All of which will aid him in being able to see a different future for himself - like an upward positive spiral. (This is a great post by @lurkingshan which is sort of related).

I'd love to be able to connect all this with other people's takes (especially to the discourse around whether Kawi will stay in his past and live his 12 years again or jump forward to an altered present and 'fix' what he can there) but my brain has stopped here. HOWEVER, I welcome others to jump on and expand on this if they wish.

(also tagging @grapejuicegay since we've been shouting to each other in our dms about this show 💖)

[mercurygray]

Hey, hey! May I request a “Things you said” with #18 “… when one or more of us was drunk” for Joan and Nixon? Thank you so much:)

Ps. I’m truly in love with your writing <3

Awww, thank you so much! I had a hard time thinking of a time when Joan would be drunk, but I wanted a happier scene - so I hope this works.

They were quite the picture, sitting up at the front of the room- white dress, black tie, leaning together to share some joke, her hands wrapped around his, ignoring the rest of the world in their own private heaven.

A room full of the world's best and brightest- and they only have eyes for each other. Lew set his glass down on an empty table and straightened his cuffs, ready to interrupt. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Winters, I've just realized I need to dance with your wife."

The pair broke apart, both smiling. "Is she my wife now?" Dick asked, leaning over again and kissing Joan fondly on the cheek. "I hadn't noticed."

"Don't tell me I lost you in the divorce, too," Lew shot back, taking Joan's hand and helping her arrange the wide swath of her skirts out of her chair and around the table so she could step out onto the dance floor.

"Stop arguing, you two," Joan ordered. "It's my wedding and I can't have you two start something."

"Yes, dear," Dick said with a grin, playing the dutiful husband to the hilts.

Lew lead her out onto the dance floor just as the bandleader swapped to something softer and slow. The party was still at a manageable hum; dinner service and coffee had tapered off and the guests were just getting into the swing of the dancing. "I hope someone's told you today you look beautiful," he said, remembering another dance in a different room, service dress and khaki and bowls of weak punch.

"Several someones," she reported happily. "I even think they all meant it."

"Good. I hope one of them was your husband; I'd hate to think he was slacking on day one."

She looked at him with fresh eyes. "Lew Nixon, are you drunk at my wedding?"

"Listen, when daddy pays for an open bar, someone's obliged to make the most of it," Lew responded with characteristic dryness. Joan rolled her eyes. "Only a little bit," he admitted. "And a happy drunk, too, since you ask."

Her smile shortened a little. "I'm sorry Françoise couldn't come."

"She's not," Lew reported, resignation in every word. Lew's second wife was very…French, and not even the promise of a party as glittering and glamorous as Joan's wedding was enough to lure her away from the fancy apartment that Lew paid for in New York. It had been a quick marriage, made in the aftermath of… everything, and it had quickly become apparent that the two of them were barely suited to each other. Françoise longed for the fashionable rush of the city and Lew…well. Lew wasn't sure he knew what he wanted, but he was quite sure now that it was never going to be the same things. "And before you say anything," he added, putting his smile back on, "I'll have you know that I have excellent taste in women. The best ones all just keep getting away from me."

"Lew." It was a warning, but he didn't care - she was beautiful, and in love, and he wanted her to appreciate what she had while she had it.

"I meant that wife joke every time I said it, you know. I was always a little in love with you." He held her hand close and smiled at her. "Never enough to do anything about it, of course. Except let you marry my best friend." He smiled at her, trying to reassure. "I hope you'll be happy, Joanie. That you'll both be happy. You deserve happiness."

"So do you," Joan responded back, squeezing his hand and pulling herself in closer. "And you'll get it. I won't allow otherwise."

Oh, Joan, Lew thought to himself, hand on her back, thinking of another dark-haired beauty who couldn't be here, the woman he was trying to find in the bottom of his glass. If only you could.

[old-knightinsourarmor]

@mightiboy asked:

👑 Damian Desmond [ Izuku wants to adopt him. (AU) Let him save him and become his friend too (SpyxFamily, the peasant, I mean, a normie, child Izuku.] I did vote for Damian on the pol too, I have no shame when it comes to my fav, I think he'd grow well in your care. He has all the unhappiness you enjoy in his background, including an inferiority complex with his brother [who he admires and aspires to be], and the thing with his dad and his mom's complicated feelings. You would have the power to bring his story into a fluffier, and happier, dynamic.

SEND ME 👑 + A CHARACTER NAME OF A CHARACTER YOU THINK I SHOULD WRITE ! 

Damian Desmond

It seems I have a tendency of adopting rich boys with daddy issues, right? Thank you for the suggestion ( and all the kind words I certainly don't deserve ), and if I add him, I'd love to write him with your Izuku!

What I love the most about him is the hints of kindness he shows, especially with Anya, and that despite all, he's more ‘ grounded ’ than the kids in his class / age: even though he comes from an influential family, him looking down on others is more of an act, than real. I also love his inferiority complex! He reminds me of Jean from SNK in a way, and I've always thought he'd be an interesting character to explore too. I might give him a try, but I'm always stressed about adding new muses, and especially a child ( children are x10 times more complicated than teenagers / adults, plus, unpredictable ).

“ You really don't get it? ” How many times was he supposed to explain the same thing? As if he had any obligation to deal with them plebs. “ I'm done with you, ” and before anyone noticed, Damian had left the scene. Having wasted precious time, on people who weren't worth it in the first place, on people who weren't willing to pay attention. A mistake a Desmond shouldn't have done, serving as the reminder of who he was meant to become.

[proxylynn]

MY WISH WAS ALWAYS YOURS (part #7 Prologue bonus chapter)

{Random posting is random. Long after finishing this story, I still think about all the lore I made and so, I couldn't help but work on a bonus chapter. If there are mistakes, that's because writing the OG main story broke my keyboard. Writing is so much harder when your "e" and "t" keys don't work. Still, I did go over everything, every chapter, and cleaned it up. Added new bits. Fixed and clarified details. I'm way happier with it now. I know this chapter isn't super long, but I think it's a nice length for what it is. Thank you all for making it this far with my silly writing. I hope this was a good read. I may make chapters as it's open to any idea that feels right to me. Have a pleasant day/night and I'll see all you precious lovelies next time. ^_^}

Once upon a time; years ago in a kingdom far far away, things were quite different than they are now. For one, the royal family didn't have ogres in it's bloodline, but that's a story that doesn't need to be told more. No, this tale takes place back when the kingdom was in darker times and the power-hungry stopped at nothing to get what they wanted no matter the cost or the lives destroyed to achieve their ultimate goal.

One such soul makes their way to a place they didn't think they had to venture to but have no other choice. Away from the main cities and at the end of the Pinocchio River, sits a bleak and unwelcoming ramshackle tavern on the edge of a sinister forest not fit for the faint of heart. There are some places in Far Far Away that law-abiding folk should steer well clear of...and the Poison Apple pub is one of them.

You'll find no decent fairy-tale character here, if they can help it that is, only black-hearted rogues and scoundrels. If you're looking for a fight, a mug of ale in bad company, or even a villain for hire, the Poison Apple is the place to go for such troubling things.

A group on horseback approaches The Poison Apple. The fancy noble-looking man leading the group halts his steed and grimaces, clearly not pleased with being here.

“Are you certain this place has what I'm looking for, Thelonious?”

The masked torturer/executioner gives his lord a thumbs up and the noble sighs with a roll of his eyes.

“I suppose if it has your approval, then that's something. You've never steered me wrong before.”

He snaps his finger and is lifted off his horse by Thelonious, the rest of the guards dismount in turn as the rather short noble struts up to the tavern. Seems the horse is affixed with a large set of gauntlets and a pair of leg extenders that reach down to the stirrups which makes him look tall on the saddle. So the four-foot-tall noble (four and a half feet in heels) knocks on the door and a large single eye peeks out of a small hatch.

“What do you want?”

A gruff Cyclops asks. The small noble clears his throat.

“I am Lord Farquaad. Ruler of the kingdom of Duloc. I seek entry into your...ugh...fine establishment.”

The little lord grits his teeth to remain polite.

“Under what grounds? We don't get many of your types here.”

“Yeah, I bet you don't...”

The lord mutters.

“What was that?”

“I said, I have gold.”

Farquadd snaps his fingers and one of his guards flashes a rather hefty sack of gold coins.

“Oh, well, why didn't you just say so?”

The cyclops opens the door, letting Farquadd in but blocks the rest of his men.

“Sorry, but we have an occupancy limit. That and, the lot of you will set off our customers. Only one of you can join him.”

Farquadd huffs with annoyance but goes along with this.

“Come, Thelonious.”

The executioner obliges while the other guards groan and whine about wanting to drink or eat.

Inside the tavern is a seedy gathering of misfits. Pirates and witches sit at the tables. Two trees arm wrestle and two dwarfs fight. Someone is playing darts with throwing axes. Captain Hook plays the piano and sings, a lit cigarette burns away off to the side, and a brandy sifter is filled with coins at his side. The Headless Horseman downs a drink and burps. The Evil Queen plays pool and hustles some drunks. Two pirates sit forlornly with their mugs. Mangiafuoco the Puppet Master takes a drink out of a beer mug...surrounded by a bunch of other empty beer mugs. A small group is gathered around a Cyclops riding a medieval mechanical brazen bull, hooting and hollering.

A few glance at Farquadd as he and his subordinate head up to the bar, Thelonious picks him up and places him on a bar stool as the bartender turns around.

“You're a new face. Don't get many of those around here.”

This would be Doris, she and her sister Mabel run this pub. They are known as the ugly stepsisters and are less famous than their beloved stepsister Cinderella. But they make a decent living serving the discarded and washed up. She's honestly not bad-looking. Most are just thrown off by her manish voice and masculine features.

“Yes, well, I hear from reliable sources that this is where one can procure certain...services.”

Doris leans over on the bar counter.

“What kind of services are we talking about here?”

Farquadd leans in as well.

“I need someone to find a different someone to then get rid of that somebody.”

“So a hit?”

“If you want to be blunt about it, yes.”

“Well, take your pick. We got a smörgåsbord of choices.”

She nods her head off to the side over to a table.

“There's the cheap newbies that want to make a name for themselves...”

She then points him elsewhere.

“The old salt professionals that'll cost you an arm and a leg...”

And she gestures over to the other side.

“And your mixed bag of nuts that are a few needles short of a haystack if you get my meaning. Take your pick.”

Farquadd scans the options and sneers with uncertainty.

“I was hoping for something a little more...pleasing. Someone discrete yet effective. Someone none would think was capable of harm but could make a body disappear like it was an accident.”

Doris gives a knowing smirk.

“Oh...Okay. I know just who you want.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. But they aren't here right now.”

“What?”

“Relax. They'll be here soon. They're just taking out the trash.”

This confuses him till the door opens and a woman comes in with a guy under her arm.

“Hey, all! Look who I found in the woods. You all be nice to my buddy now. He's a little shy.”

The 'buddy' in question is the Pied Piper and he looks a little awkward but grateful.

“There's your hire.”

Farquadd looks at Doris funny.

“The minstrel?”

“No. Her.”

His confusion grows.

“The woman?”

“Who else?”

Doris waves to the woman to come over. She leaves Piper and comes over to the bar.

“Yes, Miss Doris. Is there more you need me to do?”

“Lynsie, this fellow wants to hire you for some business.”

“Oh?”

The young lady gets a good look at her would-be client.

He's a good foot shorter than her but that means nothing to her, hell, dwarves are typical pubgoers. His outfit of mainly red and black with gold accents which suggests high status. Sporting a 5 o'clock shadow on his prominent square-shaped jawline and a large chin, shoulder-length black hair cut in a sleek straight bob with blunt bangs resembling a pageboy haircut, and his posture and expressions convey arrogance and self-importance. He wears a red, velvet-like tunic with gold trim, puffed sleeves with black undersleeves, matching red gloves, and a wide red hat. He also wears black leggings, black knee-high boots, a black belt with a gold buckle adorned with a blue jewel, and a red cape that adds to his regal, albeit pompous, appearance. His clothing emphasizes his status and attempts to convey power and control.

All in all, not bad looking.

“And what kind of job can I help you with, fair sir?”

In turn, Farquadd does the same, giving this potential hire a good-looking over.

A bit tall for a woman but compared to the others in the pub she is what he'd deem a lady to be, his standards and bias being absurdly high. Appearance-wise, she's nothing to shake a stick at in his eyes, with no makeup or attempt to be feminine to fix up her tired-looking face aside from some bland metal earrings, it's no wonder she's a tavern wench to this rotten little hovel. Yet...Her beautifully layered dress with an eggplant velvet, lace-up waist cincher, an attached cream crinkled bodice, and sleeves, as well as an attached purple iridescent satin skirt with a sage green overskirt, and with a floral wreath with ribbons did make her figure worth looking at. That soft creamy brown hair held aloft in a high ponytail reaching her shoulders. Plus those eyes, like muddy emeralds lit with embers waiting to burn in intensity.

Okay, maybe his standards had some leeway after all.

“My apologies, where are my manners? I am Lord Maximus Farquaad, ruler of the kingdom of Duloc.”

He takes her by the hand and pets her knuckles instead of kissing them for sanitary reasons.

“It must be such a pleasure to meet such a fine gentleman like myself.”

His egotistical words make Doris roll her eyes as she gets back to serving and the young woman merely smiles.

“You honor me, sir. Please, let us go discuss business in quieter settings.”

She motions to private rooms off to the side.

“Ah, right. Let's go, Thelonious.”

The torturer picks Farquadd up and they head off towards the rooms. Once out of earshot, Doris scoffs.

“That guy's ego is bigger than he is.. Bet supporting such a heavy low is why he's so short.”

“Ego or not, it's nothing I can't handle. Guys like that like feeling high and mighty, the center of attention. So I'll play my part and bat my eyes, be sent off to kill some bum, then make some serious coin. Business as always.”

Doris puts a glass of milk on the counter for her to drink.

“You know...You're still young. A girl like you should be out living life to the fullest after getting out of that hell of a house. Not staying cooped up in your room when not working in the bar or off doing dirty work. You're better than that, sweetheart.”

Lynsie sighs through her nose and takes the milk, mulling Doris's words over as she downs the glass.

“You make a fine point, Miss Doris. But I don't know. I am free. I have been taught skills and given reign over what path I can walk. Yet I am not accustomed to having such free will. I basically have all the tools I could ever need but have no clue what to build. You know? I have no idea what to do with my life. Is this all I'm good for? Is this all my meaning?”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Getting way too deep on me, dear.”

“Sorry.”

Doris pats Lynsie's head reassuringly.

“We all don't know what we're supposed to do with our lives. But worrying about it won't do anything other than stress you out. You'll find your calling one day. Just keep an open heart and have faith.”

“Don't you mean open mind?”

“I know what I said. If you follow your heart, you'll find what makes you happy.”

Lynsie smiles.

“Thank you, Miss Doris. You're the best.”

She puts the now empty glass down and heads off to the private rooms to get this potential job started.

Doris watches her go as her sister Mable comes out from the kitchen to swap places.

“You got that mom look on your face. Did something happen? Oh! Don't tell me you and Hook are...?”

“No. We're waiting till marriage before thinking of kids. I'm just worried about our little sweetheart.”

“Need me to go talk to her?”

“She's with a client right now.”

“Ah, before bed it is.”

The sisters don't often rent out rooms unless absolutely needed or out of emergency. Lynsie was an exception when she came around some months ago asking for work, and due to not having a home they gave her room. Never did they think this girl was a wandering mercenary and killed before the age of 10. Once they got her to open up about her past...yeah...Made way more sense. Fleeing an abusive mother, shit siblings, and being taken in by roaming bandits before being recruited as the apprentice of The Master Thief will lead one to be anything but normal while giving them a major existential crisis. Still, they know she's a strong girl. Having gone through all that is proof enough. So if she can take on all the horrors life threw at her and still be as gentle, they have faith their little live-in part-timer can find her true calling.

…

In the back private rooms, Farquadd sits with Thelonius as Lynsie pours them all some water.

“I apologize for the wait, gentlemen. I help the bar when not taking jobs such as the one you seek.”

She sits and Farquadd swirls his cup while Thelonius drinks.

“Quite alright, dear. It can't be helped. It's just what you common folk do, working so much and whatnot. It's like a hobby for you people.”

She looks at Thelonius and even while hooded she can read the “just fake it” look in his eyes, so she ignores the lord's basic ineptitude.

“So then, with pleasantries out of the way, let's put our cards on the table as they say...”

Pulling the ribbon from her hair out, the held locks fall and she fluffs her hair casually.

“What kind of mission is it you want done?”

Farquadd looks her up and down. Might as well since, well, he is but a man. Thelonius fidgets slightly.

“Before that, how am I to know you are qualified for handling tasks of importance such as what I have in mind?”

She rumbles faintly growing perturbed.

“Always the same...”

“What was that?”

“Is it because I'm a woman you doubt me? If it is, I'm used to it. No one thinks the little lady serving drinks can possibly be as skilled as claimed. I mean, the other rouges look so ragged, but me? My skin seems so fair...”

She rubs her arms in slow skimming teases, brushing against her chest, her voice dipping into softer honey-laced tones.

“I'm too delicate. So fragile and frail. How could I possibly harm anyone, let alone a fly?”

Did the temperature suddenly rise in here or is it just them?

“But a smart man, such as yourself, knows not to be fooled by appearances. For even something as harmless as a rose has thorns that can make the strongest cry like infants. Wouldn't you agree, my lord~?”

She didn't have to go that far, he was buttered up already. But the sweet way she said his title had him burning. Oh, she's good. Poor Thelonius grips his glass so much it's starting to crack. Farquadd shakily composes himself and clears his throat.

“Um, y-yes. That's...That's quite right, my dear. Appearances can often be very...very misleading.”

“So you're not worried then that I am what I say I am and just so happen to be a woman?”

“Not one bit.”

“Good...Then if price is what you find worrisome, I'm reasonably flexible. But I assure you, that doesn't mean my skills are lacking. Because if you want something stolen...”

She merely shifts in her seat, crossing her legs to show off a bit more skin, causing the men to be distracted and not notice anything till they look up to see she's holding their belts.

“I can steal it.”

She tosses the belts to them. Farquadd putting his on right away.

“And if you want someone dead...”

She unclasped a pin on her bust, bending it straight, and flicking it behind them...pinning a fly by its wings.

“I can kill them.”

Farquadd is astounded and Thelonius whistles in amazement.

“Now, please, don't make me repeat myself as I hate wasting time. What is it you want done?”

Her voice remains warm but has a more serious inflection to it. Taken aback but now understanding this is the skill he was looking for, Farquadd grins. This isn't some wench just trying to seduce him into wasting his gold, no. This woman is the complete package. A femme fatale. No wonder the barkeep suggested her. She's perfect!

“My dear, do you know...The Muffin Man?”

She looks at him funny.

“The Muffin Man?”

“Yes, the Muffin Man. I want him gone.”

“Oh? How interesting.”

She lounges back, a confident and curious look about her features.

“Yes, I have heard of him. It's a bit surprising to hear he's the target. Did he sell you bad sweets or something? Maybe a not-so-funny prank cake that was less than flattering?”

Thelonious snickers and Farquadd sneers.

“No. I'd never consume any of his filth. His corrupted confections are a pox on my perfect kingdom. I want it so that the only thing baking in that little shop of sugary horrors is him and all his disgusting doughy freaks! Leave no crumb unburnt o ash! I will remove his sickness from my land, cleansing it with blood if I have to! I will have order! I will have perfection!”

His temper flares, throwing his water against a wall and shattering the glass. He huffs a few times before composing himself once more.

“I apologize. That was most unbecoming of me.”

She waves him off.

“Relax. It's fine. I've seen worse and dealt with stronger outbursts. Consider it as if it didn't happen.”

She gets up.

“A hit of this size, a man and his business, it isn't too big. Striking at night will avoid unnecessary casualties and witnesses. And, just to be clear, this is a pure elimination, correct? Not an 'accident' or attack of competitive espionage from a rival gone wrong? You want him dead and for it to be obvious that it was murder?”

“Yes.”

Farquadd joins her in standing.

“I want this as a statement. And that statement being magic is no longer welcomed anymore!”

While her expressions have been rather collected and benign since meeting him, the mention of his intent causes her demeanor to flinch ever so slightly. She's not magical. She's not a fairy tale. She's a nursery rhyme, or at least, a part of one. Her mother was the rhyme's main focus and none of the children or even the Old Woman were properly named in it. But she is part of it nonetheless. And she knows it. She knows she's different from normal people. And this man's intent...It is unsettling for a world of magic.

He takes note of this subtle flinch but knows how to sway those with “moral dilemmas”. He snaps his fingers and Thelonius stands, grabbing his pants quickly as he forgot about the belt thing, fixing that before pulling out a sack of gold and offering it to her.

“I am a very generous man, my dear. This is but half of your payment. You'll get the rest upon completion.”

She takes the bag and opens it, eyeing the hefty sum.

“So...Do we have a deal?”

Farquadd offers his hand and she sighs, mentally getting herself in the right state of mind to proceed, then taking his hand.

“Consider it done.”

She takes his hand and her sudden strong grip surprises him, yet he chuckles.

“Excellent. How soo-...”

“Do not question more, I have to prepare.”

Her demeanor is different. What pleasantness there was is now stoic professionalism. Her eyes even harden in focus.

“I will leave tomorrow and send word of success upon completion. If, for whatever reason you hear nothing after a week, then something has happened.”

That quirks his brow.

“Are you insinuating you can fail?”

“I'm being realistic. Life is unpredictable. Even flawlessly laid plans can falter. But I do not relent once I'm on a target. And, barring some randomness beyond control happens, I won't.”

Not many of her kind would be so forthcoming with things like that. Had he picked any of the others in the bar, they likely would just boast about how amazing they were and it would be impossible to fail.

“...You're rather honest for someone in your line of work.”

“Lying is pointless and a waste of time. That and it's just bad business. You can't trust a lie when you know the truth. Claiming otherwise only shows how pathetic one truly is.”

“Oh...Oh, I like you.”

With a smirk, he claps his hands and Thelonius picks him up.

“A pleasure doing business with you, my dear. May we meet again. Maybe on more causal circumstances?”

She bows her head and does a one-handed curtsy.

“Perhaps. Take care, gentlemen.”

“Let's go, Thelonius. We mustn't take too much of the fair lady's time. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

She watches them leave and glares at the door once they're gone. She doesn't like it. This is beneath her. A baker? This noble picks an mercenary with high ranking assassin skills...to kill a BAKER?! What is the point? He doesn't even want all her skills used. He wants a murder. Any of the guys in the bar can do that. This was insulting. But a job is a job. The coin is decent. And...she hated everything about it.

A roar of frustration cries out, silencing most with the haunting sound.

Outside, Farquadd is helped back on his horse as he and his men begin the ride back to Duloc.

“Were you able to acquire the services you were looking for, my lord?”

“Indeed. An unexpected find, but a promising one nonetheless.”

“I liked her.”

Thelonius adds much to the puzzlement of the other men.

“True. Shame she's a commoner. Such beauty is wasted out of noble blood. But her skills? Now that is worth adding to one's ranks. Perhaps I can negotiate a deal for her to be my chambermaid? But that all depends on her success of course. Can't let weak failures in my court. Everything must be perfect.”

Questionable glances are shared between the men. Did...Did Farquadd score a lady of ill repute?

“My lord, do forgive me, but I thought you came here for an assassin?”

“I did and I have.”

The guardsmen captain is still confused.

“But you said it's a woman?”

“My good man, are you questioning my choices? Did you think I fell for some ditsy harlot that flaunted herself for coin? Because we can turn around and I will gladly enjoy watching her humiliate you in front of not just your men, but that entire hovel of villainous scum. In fact...I'm tempted to do just that.”

“N-N-No need! My apologies, my lord. I misspoke. I won't do so again.”

Farquadd smirks. Nothing like threatening someone's masculinity to get his jollies.

“See to it that you don't. Who knows. If all goes well, I might hire her permanently. If she can get rid of those freaks for me, I won't have to deal with that pompous Horner any longer. Blasted nursery rhymes. They're just as bad as fairy tales but less magical. Barely makes them tolerable. One day...One day I'll be rid of them all.”

Oh, if only this little lord knew of the rumors spoken behind his back. Some speculated Farquadd was not so short due to genetic reasons...sort of. The tea was that he himself was of fairy tale lineage, the child of one of the seven dwarves that aided Snow White and a different princess. Some even went so far as to say his parentage was the dwarf Grumpy and the Pea Princess, sighting his reason for hating all things magic on his hate of his father. How this was thought up is unknown. But oh how fun it would be to watch as he learned that people were besmirching his name in such a way. He'd give the Queen of Hearts a run for her money with how many beheadings he'd have done for this heinous crime.

[Four days later on Drury Lane]

Twas a night like any other for the marvelous Muffin Man and he had just finished taking care of his tidying up after closing. The Muffin Man is a middle-aged man with graying brown hair, a mustache, a goatee beard, and sporting a pair of glasses. He wears a classic white baking uniform, a tall white chef hat and apron, a red scarf, and a badge with his initials in gold.

Simple things like this will make tomorrow run smoother if they get done now, like preparing ingredients, getting the right utilities out, washing dishes, and sweeping up crumbs. Little things like this help him relax and put his mind at ease. Not that the day was hard, oh no. Quite the opposite. The day treated him well. Very well. He had lots of customers and they all enjoyed his wares. Any baker worth their salt gets no better joy than when someone else is made happy by their confections. Though, now that he thinks about it, there was one oddity about his day. Or rather, a few random bits of strangeness that's been happening for the last few days. It's all been incidental minor stuff so he didn't give it much thought. But four days now? He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit it was eerie.

On the first night, he just thought he heard critters that snuck about looking for sugary goodies, only there was no sign of such things and he didn't hear the sound again.

On the second day, he found his work schedule out and open in his room, he had no idea how that was as he had sworn it was in his desk drawer but chalked it up to misremembering.

Last night, there was a scuffle and the clatter jolted him awake, he found a trail of crumbs leading to his back door which was open with no one insight.

Now today, his usual order of ingredients was delivered and all seemed fine, but as he helped the courier that's when they noticed there was one crate more than the typical order. The woman had a simple explanation, it was marked on her list as to be brought here and had his name on it, so it likely was just extra that didn't get pact right in one crate and needed two to still give him what he ordered. It was an answer he accepted at the time as it made some sense. But now...now he's not sure. With all the strangeness happening it's begun to make him paranoid. That crate is now sitting in his storage room.

“Hey...”

The sudden voice frightens the poor man and he nearly smacks Gingy, the living gingerbread cookie with his broom. Gingy is no bigger than a grown human hand and decorated with colored frosting, blue for the brows, red for the mouth, and white for the eyes along with limb accents. Two grape gumdrop buttons of which he is very protective of.

“Whoa! Watch it!”

Realization hits and he is quick to drop the broom, visibly shaken as he approaches the table where the cookie stands.

“Gingy...M-My boy, I'm so sorry...”

“Papa? You alright? You don't look so good.”

The man rubs his face and steadies his breathing.

“Just my nerves. Maybe too much thinking. Nothing a good night's rest won't fix.”

Gingy looks concerned but nods.

“Yeah, you do that. Leave the rest of the cleanup to me. I'll have it done in a jiffy.”

Muffin Man smiles and pats the cookie's head softly.

“You're a good boy, Gingy. Goodnight.”

“Night papa.”

Muffin Man heads for his room. Gingy watches for a bit before leaping down to go find a spare toothbrush he can sweep with.

Maybe he was just tired and his worries were piling up to make up things that weren't really there. He'll feel better in the morning once he gets some rest and back into his normal routine. He opens his door...

*BAM*

The man goes flying back and tumbles, knocking over things as he falls to the ground. Gingy hides and peaks out as a figure emerges from his father's room. This figure is in nothing but black from head to toe, from their gloves to their tights to their long sleeves and the hooded cloak that hides their face. Heavy boots tread gently against the floorboards. Gingy can't make out details as they seem to be a living shadow in all that black, the cloak even hiding what the attacker is, heck, he barely can see their eyes.

“You really should lock your windows...”

How ironic this assailant's voice is as sweet as the baked goods around them. Though it sounded slightly familiar in an odd way to the cookie.

“You'll catch your death if you're not careful.”

The Muffin Man writhes on the floor, disoriented, the blow to his head being one thing but he lost his glasses too, so his blurry vision isn't making his dizzied mind any better. Still, while he can't see the figure's shape in the dim light, he can see the shine that glints off of a dagger and he scrambles in trying to move away.

“S-Stay back!”

“Don't be foolish. You're only delaying the inevitable.”

The figure stalks after him ominously, slowly, and deliberately, unbothered by his attempt to flee. Gingy, while frightened, isn't about to just stand there and watch as his father is killed. He has to do something. So he looks around for what he can use and scampers away out of sight. The Muffin Man manages to get back on his feet and feels around for things he can defend himself with. This results in him chucking random items at the figure. A vase of flowers. A book or two. A frying pan that he regretted throwing. And so much more till he's backed against a wall with a large rolling pin held tightly to his chest.

“Are you done?”

Sweat drips down his brow, his chattering teeth and his heart thundering deafening his hearing. He knows if he doesn't do something he's a dead man. So, despite his quacking knees, he lunges with the rolling pin to give this attacker a good walloping. But, again, he can't see them all that well. So when he lunges, the figure captures the utensil in their free hand and yanks it from him, making him trip.

“I hate taking jobs like this. This is just insulting.”

The figure whacks the Muffin Man with the rolling pin and knocks him down, treading around him.

“You know something? You and I have something in common. We both take pride in our craft. We worked hard to hone our skills and master techniques that are to be desired. Yet, here we are. You, a man with such talent that you can bring your goods to life...”

The figure flings the rolling pin off to the side and it hits a row of hanging pots, knocking them loose atop Gingy who had managed to find a knife of his own but is now enclosed under a sauce pot.

“Then there's me, a trained master in the art of taking things. Be it objects, information, or lives.”

The figure kicks the Muffin Man's side and flips him onto his back.

“And I don't know about you, but nothing pisses me off more than wasting time. But that's what this is. A big waste of time. You're a baker. You have no defenses. No fighting skills. Any moron could've been used for this job. Hell, the only dangerous thing about this whole mission was the pair of raccoons I found in your attic. By the way, you're welcome. I got them out before they made a nest. Lord knows that would be a major health code violation.”

“R-Raccoons?”

That explains a few things. The skittering sounds, the crumb trail, his open back door...

“W-Wait. Then...What's that extra crate?”

He thinks aloud.

“Oh, that? It's as I told you. It's your order, but they packed it all wonky, so there's just an extra box. If you're thinking I was in there...I wasn't.”

His eyes widen when he hears that and it clicks in his mind.

“Y-You...You're the courier?!”

The figure kneels over him.

“Thank you for your patronage and have a simply sweet day~.”

He shivers as he hears those words again and in that innocently chipper voice. The figure brings their dagger to his throat, dragging the blade faintly along his skin.

“You're a predictable man. So routine I can set a clock by you. Your little work schedule alone made this all so shamefully easy. This is like taking candy from a baby, but worse because the baby is blind.”

They groan in annoyance.

“This isn't personal or anything. I take no enjoyment in this. But once I'm given a task, I see it through.”

The figure grabs him by the throat and climbs on top of him, their weight keeping him from struggling too much but also an awkward feeling has him freeze stiff as the dagger is held up high ready to strike.

“Any last words or final requests? I respect the rights of the dead so long as it's reasonable.”

“So...L-Letting me go is off the table?”

“Correct.”

“Worth a shot.”

This is it. These are the Muffin Man's last moments. Thankfully for him, Gingy can't see this happening, his poor little candy eyes would sour if he were to witness such a horrible sight.

“Fine. Kill me. But you'll never get my secrets!”

“I'm not here for your secrets. I'm here purely because you're wanted dead.”

Confusion flashes on his face. This...This wasn't about his baking secrets? Then does that mean...?

“Goodbye, Muffin Man.”

The figure brings the blade down.

“You're not working for Horner?”

Cold steel stops inches above his left eye, his lashes brushing against it as he blinks. He's going to need a change of pants after this.

“What did you say?”

The man is still in “holy shit I nearly died” shock and doesn't speak, leading to the figure stabbing the dagger into the floor beside him before yanking him up by the hair to get in his face.

“Answer me! How do you know that name?!”

“W-What?”

“Horner! How do you know that name?!”

“I...I...I...”

His voice struggles to work as, well, he's unsure if he's still gonna get killed or not. A sudden blurry movement is in his vision, a brown lump holding a shiny object. This is also seen reflected in his gaze.

“Don't risk it, cookie. I can still snap his neck before you even move another step.”

Seems Gingy had slipped out of the pot and crept up behind them for a sneak attack with the knife he found. Sadly for Gingy, this assassin is very good at what they do.

“Please...Don't hurt my papa.”

Gingy lets the knife fall and the figure sighs.

“Once I'm given a task, I see it through...”

The figure lets go of Muffin Man much to their dismay.

“But, I don't like this task. So I'm going to make you a deal.”

The figure takes back their dagger and tucks it away as they stand up.

“I won't do what I was paid to and give you the information on who sent me, in exchange for what you know about that name...and I'll clean up this mess. Seems only fair for the trouble I've caused.”

The figure pulls back their hood and shows their face. The face of a tired woman. She offers her hand.

“Do we have a deal?”

Gingy gasps.

“The delivery girl?!”

She rolls her eyes.

“We've already established that, yes.”

The Muffin Man takes a moment to calm his rapid heart and breathing before nodding, taking her hand.

“Deal.”

She pulls him up with surprising ease, this slightly portly grown man weighing nothing to the younger woman.

“Thank you.”

“Do not thank me. You got lucky. Had you not said that name you'd be dead right now. Now then...”

She collects the fallen broom and starts cleaning.

“Tell me what you know.”

And with that, the dreadful turmoil inside the bakery had come to an end. The night resumes its peace while dim candlelight remains lit inside the building.

The Muffin Man holds up his end and divulges what little he knows. He knows the name Horner as it's a baked goods competitor that's been popping up in the area recently that mostly does pies and other desserts. It's relatively new to Far Far Away, what with the main hub of the business being across the sea, so he's not sure of the exact location. He had heard rumors of the ruthless actions the company was willing to take to ensure business and had figured she was sent to kill him for that very reason.

On her end, she informs him of Lord Farquadd of the Kingdom of Duloc hiring her to kill him because he has a disdain for magic. She even shows on a map where Duloc is, as she had ventured there before, and cautions them to avoid it, as Farquadd didn't seem to know the baker's location otherwise he'd have just sent his men instead of her or would've told her when arranging the hit. As compensation for her attempt and payment for a favor, she gives the man 50 gold coins, requesting he send a letter to the Poison Apple informing the ugly step-sisters of the transpired events...and that she won't be returning.

With nothing further to say and having done as promised, she leaves the Muffin Man to live with the information given, doing with it what he pleases. To his credit, the man heeds her warning and would never set foot near Duloc. The same can't be said about Gingy, who would later attempt to sneak in and end up being captured. But that is a different story for some other time.

[Time skip]

It has been quite the journey.

After using what gold she had left to buy information, food reserves, and decent travel across the waves, Lynsie finds herself as far from her roots as she thought possible. She was now in Spain and it was a bit of a culture shock at first. That and her Spanish was rusty, barely understanding things and having to pantomime to convey things on her end.

She started this self-imposed mission long ago, a promise made in her youth that she vowed to uphold, and only now so many years later was she able to make due on.

All out of gold, she has been wandering from ports to villages, to towns, and so on relearning the language as she finds Horner Pie shops along the way. The logo used is something she's not seen before but recognized all the same and the initials J. H. speak volumes to long-held memories. She gets lucky one day, spotting a shipping cart making its departure from the village of Del Mar after restocking the shop there. Now, it's not like she could catch a ride in the open back of the cart. But after causing a distraction that made the cart stop for a time, she hooked to the underside and went along for the ride unbeknownst to the driver.

After a miserable painstakingly bumpy ride, the cart finally starts to slow down and she detaches to at least let her body remember what it's like to not be moving. When her senses settle, she takes in these new surroundings. The vibrant sky is cast into dark dull cloudy haze as vast plumes of bellowing smoke from industry choke the space above. The Tudor-style buildings of this city are odd in this part of Spain, due to them being English in origin, but it has all the charm one would expect from a city of such welcoming architecture and ambitious folks. She walks the cobblestone streets, taking in the oddly comforting ambiance.

Suddenly her nose is hit with a smell that triggers nostalgia. The sweet sugary scent of plums. She follows the aroma deep into the city's heart till she comes to a bridge that leads to an enormous factory that sits in an equally massive river that cuts through the city. Quite smart to use the current as a power source. The gate is huge but she can make out the golden glinting J. H. on the doors.

“From a humble wagon to all this? Most impressive, Jack.”

As she strides over the bridge, the deep sounds of the factory provide a wired rumble that is unnatural yet oddly inviting, even if the blazing roaring chimneys sound like slumbering dragons. Near the gates, a man sits on a barrel and looks in thought, sort of out of place but one could assume he's just taking a break. There is a small boat tied to one of the lamp posts along the bridge wall. Perhaps a grounds keeper that ensures the water wheels don't get jammed. Upon getting a better look, he's in a uniform, the emblem of J. H. on his vest. He takes notice of her and stands.

“Halt! What business do you have here?”

She pays him no mind and stares up at the gate, above the doors is a golden version of the logo she's seen on shops, only this thing looks like it's done to resemble a noble crest. As if this were a castle. Then again, it's not like the building is too far off from looking like one. It makes her chuckle.

“My, look how far you've come. They can't ignore you now, can they?”

The guard unsheathes a sword from his side and points it at her.

“This is your only warning. You are trespassing on the property of "Big" Jack Horner. Leave now or your life is forfeit.”

“Calls himself "Big" now, does he? Interesting...”

She turns around and walks back, making the guard eye her. His suspicion proves right as she spins back around bolting at him.

“This I have to see for myself”

He charges at her and swings, but she leaps, using him as a springboard to then jump onto the lamp beside him. She continues to bound off the lamps like a deer till she lands atop the fortified wall.

“A word of advice. Get a different job.”

The man is not too happy about this.

“Intruder at the gates!”

He shouts and she rolls her eyes.

“Someone's a sore loser.”

She jumps down as guards rush in, brandishing swords, long poleaxes, and bows at the ready to fire. It's a good amount of people. At least twenty or so. So much enforcement for a baked goods factory?

“I take it no one is up for doing this the easy way?”

They aim their weapons and she cracks her neck, limbering up.

“Okay. But I'll hold back. Killing you all would make me look like a poor guest.”

She holds her arms out and slowly pops her fingers one by one before punching a guard with a poleaxe, stealing his weapon, and kicking off one hell of a brawl the guard on the bridge wishes he could see.

…

Inside the factory, Big Jack Horner is locked deep in thought at his office desk, the quill in his hand writes steadily as he tends to the mundane amount of paperwork that comes from operating such a vast expanding enterprise. The latest reports from his test shops in Far Far Away came in with mixed figures. Some products are easier to sell than others. Some things never change. Plum is still not a commodity people want there. Oh well. That's why these are tests. No real financial loss in trying, not when he makes up for it with sales over here. Still hard to believe his family had to leave their homeland to finally make it big. Nursery Rhymes always did have it hard over there. Some more than others.

His quill stills for a moment. An old memory comes to mind before being cast away. What nonsense. He hasn't thought about that time in his youth in ages. That brief time when he was eight and met a girl.

“Then be strong. Be strong for her and yourself. Mama promises her sweet little man that one day you'll have everything you ever wanted. Even her. Can you be strong till that day comes?”

He scoffed at the thought. How cruel of his mother to make such a promise. Any such faith in it was dashed once they crossed the sea. No. If he was going to have everything he's ever wanted, he'd have to make it happen himself. It's why he works so hard. Why he uses every dirty trick in the book to gain power. Why he hardened himself into a cold remorseless soul bent on nothing but his own needs. It's why he did everything he could to overcome and overshadow his childhood self to be the big man that he is now. Aside from some old posters from the factory's humbled beginnings, there's not a trace of "Little" Jack Horner anymore. Only a big man with big goals and bigger ambitions. And he preferred to keep it that way.

“Mr. Horner!”

A guardsman rushes into his office. Not a smart move. Jack doesn't like it when people bust in like that.

“You have five seconds to give me a good reason not to chuck you out a window.”

The guard gulps, knowing that's not a threat...it's a guarantee.

“Sir, we're under attack.”

This gets Jack to look at him with a mildly curious brow.

“The gates have been breached and the men manning the front have been beaten. We're currently doing what we can to keep them in the main hall and tire them out, but we don't know for how long-...”

*CRASH*

“Oh shit, they got in!”

The guard departs to try to deal with this but now Jack is interested. It's not every day that some idiot grew some balls and attacked his factory. Probably after his magic collection. Why else? Still, something didn't sound right. Tire them out? So it's not a group? No way this is just one person. It can't be. ...Right?

His interest peaked, Jack got up and headed out to see this action for himself. Beats doing paperwork for another hour, so this is hopefully an entertaining break in his day. Following the sound of clashing brouhaha into the depths of the factory, Jack comes upon a rather perplexing scene. A figure cloaked in black and bounding about making his men look like idiots, simply making them attack each other while doing the bare minimum of defense when needed. Like...What the hell? These are his men? Is this the quality he's paying for? How is one person making a joke out of this by breaking in and not even taking it seriously enough to kill anyone? This isn't entertaining. This is just annoying. It only pisses him off.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

This was more or less directed at his guards, but the sheer intensity of his voice made everyone finch. His guards flinch. Random staff flinch. Even mice in the walls and passing birds flinch at his booming yell. But the figure? They get affected the worse. Not only did they flinch, but they shrunk in on themselves and protectively braced for excepted blows to follow. This is enough of a break in their concentration that the guards can subdue them. This seemed too easy and way too anticlimactic for Jack to accept.

“Bring them over here. I want to see who this moron is.”

They do as told and this is when figure snaps out of their stupor, forcing a jerk back before kicking them away to rush up to Jack...only to stop at the tip of his shadow.

“Wow. You really did get big...Neat.”

Jack eyes this odd intruder as they pull their hood back to show their face and to say he's surprised to see it's a woman would be an understatement. Especially their choice of words, which was puzzling.

“You know, for someone that broke in, you are doing a lousy job of killing and stealing.”

She tilts her head like a confused puppy.

“I mean, yeah, you're not wrong. But I didn't come all this way to do any of that. I came to see you.”

Now this was just weird.

“Not what I was expecting. But I've heard stupider things.”

She huffs at this.

“You don't remember me, do you?”

“Am I supposed to?”

She palms her face.

“I get we've both gone through changes over the last, what, twenty years? But I would've thought I made some kind of impression on you.”

She pauses for thought as the guards creep up to nab her once more, but Jack holds out his hand and makes them wait. He wants to see where this is going.

“Oh! Right. Probably giving my name would make this simpler.”

She clears her throat and smiles.

“It's me, Jack. It's Lynn.”

That name hits him like a ton of bricks. Flashes of his youth and brief time with her come to the forefront of his mind. It can't be. This can't be her...Can it? She wasn't like this. She was pathetic and weak. This woman is far from it. But if not, who would know he even knew someone of that name at some point? Certainly no one here. Still, he had to be sure. This required proper investigating.

“Come with me.”

Jack turns on his heel and starts walking.

“Okie-dokie.”

She follows up beside him, taking in his appearance and comparing it to her memories of him. The guards are beyond baffled. That woman just broke in and caused so much chaos, yet their boss is just...letting her go with him? Who the hell is she and what the heck is up with Jack?

Jack brings her to his office, locking the door to ensure privacy.

“You look different.”

He mutters.

“So do you.”

She retorts as she stands in the center of the room, watching as he circles her and takes her in, studying her. She gets it. He doesn't trust so easily. She'll need to convince him with things that only they know.

“You don't think it's really me, do you?”

He says nothing and she sighs.

“Can't believe I have to do this...”

She grumbles and he stops to eye her when she pulls the cloak off completely, as a show she's got nothing to hide. The tights she wears hug her figure, she's curvy but skinny, a far cry from the malnourished kid he recalls, but it still seems she doesn't get enough to eat. She grabs the end of her top and turns her back to him, pulling it up to show her horribly scarred back. His eyes widen with recollection. Yep...it's her.

“I might look different, but I know you can't forget seeing this. When we first met, you brought me to your parents. Your mom took care of the bleeding. Your dad gave me pie. It was my first time having pie...I wept. It was so delicious. The first real thing I considered a meal in lord knows how long. You called me weird because I cried while smiling. But I was just so happy. Strangers were being nice...to me...without expectancy or malice...I was...so overwhelmed.”

Her voice was waning as if trying to avoid succumbing to the emotions that were attempting to come out. He doesn't speak, all he does is take in the sight. Slowly he cautiously touches the menagerie of devited flesh, his large index finger skimming over the deep lashes and making her squirm uncomfortably. But she takes it. If he needs to feel her shame to be sure it's really her, then so be it.

“You never told us who did this, but we knew.”

His voice breaks the awkward silence that had built up.

“With how you'd get all freaked out if we mentioned your mother, it wasn't hard to figure it out.”

Her head hangs low, her gaze on the floor.

“The night your wagon left...It was the worst beating I can remember. I think it hurt more because I...I had no one anymore. No safe place to forget that THAT was my life. She left me to die. With how bad it was, I know she had to believe I would be dead come morning. But I...I didn't want to die. I refused.”

She pulls her top back down.

“I ran away. Got taken in by a group of bandits. Raised as a killer. Got picked up by The Master Thief. Was his apprentice for a while. Took up mercenary life as a means of making coin and covered as a bar waitress for a bit. And...that's about it. My dull uneventful life wrapped in a nutshell up to this point.”

He chuckles at her nonchalant way of describing some pretty intense shit.

“If that's what you call dull, I'm curious as to what would be considered hectic.”

“And what of you? What happened to you after, you know, your wagon moved on that day?”

The amusement on his face bleeds into more of a sour grimace. He didn't like his childhood. Scratch that, he hated it. But he knows she hates hers way more. So he copies her way of explaining. Keeping things as simple as he can.

“We moved around some more. Saving coin when able. My old man got this idea in his head, since competition was a pain, we could try going elsewhere. Somewhere that didn't know of us, our pies, or was hounded by cheap magic bullshit...”

He clenches his fists till his knuckles bleach. It's a moment that is brief, but it's telling all the same. He still has a temper and disdain of magic.

“Luckily, his idea was a good one. Plums weren't common here and pie was mostly used for meat dishes. It wasn't long till we dominated the market on pastries. Business boomed. We settled in a small town that sat on major trade routes and built a small shop. But nothing stayed small for very long.”

“Clearly.”

She interjects.

“This place might as well be a castle. The town is a city. And you...well...Puberty hit you big time. And I do mean BIG.”

That was a welcomed reaction for him. Usually, others would jab at his appearance or bring up his old moniker. It's nice having his stature seen as impressive.

“Yes, I did hit a bit of a growth spurt, didn't I?

“Understatement of the year. Look at you! I used to be level with you. Now...What, you're like, two feet taller?!”

Oh, how his ego was loving this.

“You used to be so timid. Where did this side of you come from?”

She smirks.

“I was this way to you back then too. You just didn't like it.”

He leans back against his desk, his eyes scanning her face, trying to reconcile the memory of a timid beaten girl with the strong confident woman before him. Memories of a time when he was still "Little" Jack Horner, the kid with big dreams and a heart that hadn't yet been hardened completely by life's harsh realities. But those days were long gone, and now, he was "Big" Jack Horner, a man who didn't take kindly to nostalgia or sentimentality. His mind raced, filled with questions he wasn't sure he wanted answers to.

“So...How did you find me? My name isn't known over there. Least not yet anyway.”

“The Muffin Man told me.”

He cocks his brow.

“The Muffin Man?”

“Yeah, the Muffin Man, who lives on Drury Lane.”

“And why did he tell you about me?”

“He thought I was working for you.”

“Why did he think that?”

“I was hired to kill him.”

That makes him snort a chuckle.

“What?”

“Yeah. I let him live in exchange for info. I took that info and all my coin to get here.”

He palms his face.

“You're serious? You dropped everything and spent all your money, just to find me?”

She rocks on her heels innocently.

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds rather silly.”

“It sounds psychotic.”

“That too.”

He sighs.

“Let me ask this. Why did you do this? Come all this way and whatnot. What do you expect to happen?”

She pauses, searching for the right words. Her eyes meet his, and for a moment, the hardened veneer she built over the years weakens. Her vulnerability showing. She takes a deep breath and then speaks.

“I came because of a promise. A promise I made to myself, to your family, to you, and to the memory of a time when things felt...possible. When you and your family were the only ones who showed me that I had value. That I wasn't all the things my mom said I was. I was a good girl. I was useful. I wanted to keep living to feel that. I came here to see if...if there was still a place for me in your world.”

His expression shifts slightly, the hard lines of his face softening, but only just. He turns away, staring out the window of his office, watching the plumes of smoke rise from the chimneys, blending into the overcast sky.

“You were part of a life that I left behind, Lynsie. I had to become someone else to survive and thrive. "Little" Jack Horner doesn't exist anymore.”

She clenches her fists, working up the nerve.

“Neither does that scared little girl who lived in a shoe.”

She replies, taking a step closer.

“That child who was looked down on more lowly than dirt and was the target of unwarranted abuse died long ago. She died the moment she tasted compassion. And if both our old selves are gone, then let this be a new beginning. If that little girl can't be with that boy again, then this woman as a request...”

She stops behind him and kneels.

“Please. Jack. Allow me to serve you.”

Jack remains silent for a long moment, wrestling with his thoughts. The sheer gravity of her gesture struck a chord deep within him. The memories of their brief connection swirl in his mind. He turns to face her, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her kneeling form. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and measured.

“You honestly mean this, don't you? You want to serve me, just like that?”

She keeps her head down.

“I do.”

He sneers.

“I don't need servants who are bound by old promises or childhood memories. I need people who are loyal, capable, and unflinching. I need tools that can and will lay their lives down for my goals.”

“Then I will be your tool.”

“Don't say things you don't mean.”

“I DO mean it.”

His eyes narrow as he regards her and she looks up at him, their gaze locking, determination radiating off her despite her submissive posture. The room is thick with tension, each moment stretching out as he considers her words, her sincerity, and the potential risks and benefits of allowing her back into his life.

“Stand up.”

He commands, his voice a low rumble. She rises to her feet, her gaze steady and unwavering as she stands straight at the ready.

“You want to serve me? Prove it. I need someone who can get results, who can handle themselves under pressure, and who won't break under my command. If you can do that, maybe—just maybe—you'll earn a place here.”

She nods, her expression resolute.

“Tell me what you need, and I will get it done.”

A dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a plan already forming in his mind. He can see the fire in her eyes, the unyielding spirit that had survived unimaginable hardship. She wasn't the weak fragile girl he once knew. She had transformed, much like he had.

“I don't know what you've heard about me. But I, let's say, have a rather unique hobby. I'm a collector of rare magical goods.”

She cocks her brow intrigued. He hated magic as a kid. So him collecting it as an adult is a surprise.

“Tell me...Have you ever heard of The Golden Apples of the Hesperides?”

She shakes her head.

“The Garden of the Hesperides is Hera's orchard in the west, where either a single apple tree or a grove grows, producing golden apples. According to the legend, when the marriage of Zeus and Hera took place, the different deities came with nuptial presents for the latter. Among them was the goddess Gaia, with bronze branches having golden apples growing on them as a wedding gift. Hera, greatly admiring these, begged Gaia to plant them in her gardens, which extended as far as Mount Atlas. The Hesperides were given the task of tending to the grove but occasionally they'd picked apples from it themselves. Not trusting them, Hera also placed in the garden an immortal, never-sleeping, hundred-headed serpent-like dragon named Ladon as an additional safeguard, that twined and twisted around the tree.”

“Oh. Well, that's just delightful.”

He chuckles darkly, enjoying her reaction.

“Yes, it's not exactly an easy task. But I want those apples for my collection. They are said to possess immense magical properties. Your task is simple: bring me a few of these golden apples. They're highly sought after and heavily guarded, making them the perfect test of your skills.”

She takes a deep breath, her mind racing with the enormity of the challenge before her. But the fire in her eyes doesn't waver.

“I can't tell if you have faith in me or just want me gone. But either way, I'll get you those apples.”

He leans back, his expression still calculating.

“Understand this: fail, and there won't be a second chance. You'll be out on the streets, no different than where you started. Succeed, and I'll entertain this request of yours.”

She nods, her resolve firm.

“Understood. I won't fail. This will be tough, but I'll find a way. I always do.”

His eyes glint with a mixture of admiration and skepticism.

“Good. You have one month. Don't disappoint me.”

She flinches momentarily before nodding. She leaves his office, the weight of her mission settling on her shoulders. As she walks through the factory, past the bewildered guards and the rumbling machinery, her mind races with thoughts and plans. This was it. Her chance to prove herself, to reconnect with the one person who once offered her hope. She wasn't going to fail him. She had made a promise long ago, and now, she had the chance to make it happen. Nothing short of death would stop her from fulfilling it.

Back in his office, Jack returns to his desk, the weight of his empire pressing down once more. The past he thought he had buried was resurfacing, and with it, the possibility of change.

“Lynsie...let's see if you're truly as useful as you wish to be.”

[Time skip]

Days slowly turned into weeks since Lynsie embarked on her seemingly impossible mission to retrieve the Golden Apples. Every day was a grueling test of her skills, perseverance, and sheer willpower. She recalls the lessons she learned from the Master Thief, the survival instincts honed by the bandits, and the discipline and focus that kept her alive all these years. Each step forward is a testament to her growth and determination. She traveled through enchanted forests, scaled treacherous mountains, and navigated labyrinthine paths, all while dealing with mythical creatures, random lowlifes, and cunning traps both natural or not to protect the location of the sacred apples from greedy foolhardy mortals.

Meanwhile, back at the factory, Big Jack Horner went about his business with his usual ruthless efficiency. Despite his outward calm, he couldn't shake the memory of Lynsie's determined eyes and the fire that burned within them. He hadn't heard from her since she left on her seemingly impossible mission and he found himself wondering, more often than he'd like to admit, how she was faring. Part of him was certain she would fail—after all, it was a dangerous task, one that even seasoned adventurers would find daunting. Yet, another part of him—a quieter, more hopeful part—wondered if she might actually succeed. Those eyes. How they burned with a fire he hadn't seen in years.

As the deadline drew near, Jack's empire continued to expand. His factory churned out more products, his wealth grew exponentially, and his influence spread further. But in quiet moments, he wondered if she was still alive, if she had managed to survive the perilous journey, and if she would succeed in her seemingly impossible task. He found himself growing more restless. He spent more time in his office, staring out the window at the sprawling city below, lost in thought. His guards and staff noticed the change but dared not comment. "Big" Jack Horner was not a man to be questioned.

On the final day of the month, as dusk settled over the city, Jack stood in his office, his eyes fixed on the horizon. A knock sounded on the door behind him then slowly creaked open, and he turned to see one of his guards standing there, looking nervous.

“Sir, there's...”

“Did I say for you to come in?”

The calm in Jack's voice only made the guard quake, he'd forgotten to wait for permission.

“F-Forgive me, sir! It's just that...”

“Yes or no? Did I tell you to come in?”

The guard gulps.

“N-No, sir.”

“That's right. Now you're going to close the door and knock again. This time, with your face, and wait till I tell you to enter. Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Reluctantly the guard shuts the door and Jack waits for it.

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

“Come in.”

The innocently sweet tone Jack uses is like salt on a wound. But the door opens and the guard is looking quite banged up now.

“T-There's...someone here...t-to see you.”

The guard said, his voice trembling and slurred from the damage.

Jack's expression remained stern.

“Send them in.”

The guard nodded and stepped aside. A bruised and exhausted Lynsie entered the room, her clothes tattered and dirty with some blood, but her eyes shone with that same fire he knew her for. In her hands, she death grips a small leather satchel. Jack's gaze locked onto her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, with a slow deliberate motion, he dismisses the guard. Poor guy needs to go see a nurse now.

“Well, well, look who's back.”

His voice was laced with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“I half-expected you to end up as dragon food or worse.”

She doesn't comment back, merely drags herself to his desk and places the satchel down, a faint golden glow seeping out. Jack's eyes widened slightly, and he reached out to open the sack. Inside, nestled among some silver leaves, were three glistening golden apples. The sight was enough to momentarily silence him, and he carefully picked one up, inspecting it. It was perfect, almost otherworldly in its beauty, and radiated a subtle magical aura.

“You did it.”

Jack murmured, turning the apple in his hands, his voice low and measured.

“Impressive.”

Lynsie smiled wearily.

“I told you, I would not fail you.”

He set the apple back into the satchel and looked at her, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“May I ask...How?”

She runs a hand through her hair.

“Locating the garden and the dragon were my priorities. The Hesperides were of no threat. Mere a minor inconvenience. One that stopped when they saw the dragon go down.”

He chuckles in amusement.

“You? Took out an immortal multi-headed dragon?”

“As I said, I'm not that weak girl you remember. I had to survive, and I got good at it. That and there is more than one way to take a beast down. You said it was immortal and never slept. Not that it couldn't be paralyzed. And in my bandit days, I learned of some very powerful toxins. So...I nabbed you a little something extra while I could.”

Curiosity compelled him to dig back into the satchel and feel something smooth like glass, pulling out two vials. One has viscous crimson liquid and the other is a clear yellowish runny fluid.

“I heard Dragons are getting to be low in numbers, what with all the overcompensating idiots trying to make names for themselves killing them. So when you said you collected magical goods, it occurred to me that dragon blood and venom would be quite the additions. I would've gotten you more but, turns out an elephant's dosage of paralytic didn't last as long as I thought it would on a ticked-off dragon.”

He couldn't help but feel a swell of appreciation and slight respect as he gazed at the vials in his hand. The blood glinted ominously under the dim light of the room, while the venom seemed to catch the light with an almost ethereal shimmer. Dragon blood and venom were indeed rare commodities, highly sought after for their potent magical properties and unparalleled value. She had gone above and beyond, not only securing the coveted golden apples but also procuring these additional items that could fetch an exorbitant price or be used in crafting powerful enchantments. He set the vials back down gently into the satchel, his gaze shifting back to her.

“You certainly know how to sweeten a pot. Quite the haul for a simple mercenary.”

He said, a smirk playing on his lips. She just shrugged, the exhaustion was evident in her posture.

“I wanted to make sure you had no doubts about my conviction. I meant what I said. I want to serve you, to be of worth. I'll be your tool, your weapon, whatever you need. Give this life of mine a purpose, a real one, even if it's just in your shadow.”

He studied her for a moment, considering her words. The determination in her voice, and the lengths she had gone to, all pointed to someone who had transformed from nothing into a formidable force. She was a weapon with no aim. But in the right hands...His hands... His mind raced, calculating the potential uses for someone with her skills and just what other things she could do for him.

“You know, few could have managed what you did.”

“That being?”

“Meeting my expectations.”

She exhaled deeply, the weight of his words lifting some of the exhaustion from her shoulders. There was a sense of satisfaction in her eyes, though she maintained her composure. His gaze hardened slightly, though a hint of a smile remained on his lips.

“Don't relax just yet. This was just the first step and you met my bare minimum. You wanted to serve me, to prove your worth? Fine. You have your opportunity. And you best maintain it. I don't tolerate weakness. So you better not hinder me, my company, or my goals. Do I make myself clear?”

Lynsie nods, her resolve firm.

“I understand. I won't let you down.”

Jack moves from his desk, towering over her, his presence imposing yet no longer as intimidating as it once was. He moved closer, examining her with an intensity that made her heart race, though she refused to show any sign of weakness.

“You've shown me you can handle yourself in the field. Now I want to see how you fare within my organization. Working for me means total loyalty and commitment. There are no half-measures, no hesitation. You'll be stepping into a world where betrayal, incompetence, and failure are not tolerated. If you serve me, you serve me fully, with everything you have. You'll be dealing with matters both internal and external. Prove that you can be trusted, that you can execute my orders without question.”

Lynsie met his gaze steadily, the fire in her eyes burning brighter as she held a hand over her heart.

“I swear to you, Jack. That this life of mine is now yours. Nothing else in this world matters to me. Your goals are my goals. Your happiness is my own. Money has no meaning. The only reward I aim for is satisfying your needs. Give me any task and it will be done without question. No matter what, I...”

“Okay! Geez. I get it. Stop being so dramatic. You sound both ridiculous and desperate.”

“...It was the satisfy needs thing, right?”

“That part was just weird.”

She slaps herself.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

He puts an end to that with a hand on her head.

“None of that. You got beaten enough as is, no need to start doing it to yourself.”

“Sorry.”

He leans down so he's at her eye level, his voice steady and commanding.

“You are undoubtedly...still so damn weird.”

Despite how it sounds, this makes her smile. He takes his hand off her and flicks her forehead, knocking her down.

“Come now. Don't just clutter my floor.”

She looks at him confused but gets up, following him as he leaves his office. Jack's towering figure moves with a confident stride, his demeanor shifting back into the commanding presence of a leader. As they walk, Lynsie can't help but notice the curious glances from the workers and guards they pass. Some look at her with curiosity, others with suspicion, but none dare to speak.

“Um...W-Where are we going?”

He doesn't bother with visibly acknowledging her.

“You look like hell. I can't have someone representing me who looks like they spent a month being Sisyphus's boulder.”

Fair enough. She couldn't argue that she probably brought the health code down in her current state. There wasn't a point during her mission that she stopped for long, barely sleeping or eating to ensure not to waste a single valuable second. But health be damned, she had a deadline and stuck to it as her training had drilled such conviction into her.

He leads her through a series of hallways and stairs, the sounds of the factory growing distant as they enter a quieter wing of the building. Eventually, they arrive at a set of double doors. Jack pushes them open and her eyes widen at the shift in environmental tone. The atmosphere here is more refined, with plush carpets and ornate fixtures that speak of Jack's success and wealth. She wasn't expecting such posh living quarters in a pie factory of all places. After a short stroll down a small hall, Jack opens a door to reveal a luxurious suite, complete with a large bed and a joint lavish bathroom.

“What do you think? Pretty nice, right?”

“If I didn't know better, I'd think a noble stayed here.”

“Please. Royalty wishes it had it this good.”

“And this room is...?”

A smug laugh leaves him.

“Oh, this room? Don't tell me you think this is yours. Ha! Heavens no. This is my room. It's where I rest my weary head when I don't bother going home.”

She rolls her eyes. Ah, yes, a most hilarious jape. Showing off extravagances to the poor person. Rich people's humor is wild.

“No. Your room is over there.”

That took her by surprise. They move a few doors down and he opens the door, showing a more simple room compared to his. She steps in and looks around the room, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. It's a stark contrast to the rough conditions she's been used to for most of her life. She turns to him, her expression a mix of gratitude and bewilderment.

“This is mine?”

He waves her off with a dismissive hand.

“Don't read too much into it. I can't have you back on the streets looking like a beggar while you're here. First impressions matter, and you're now representing me in some capacity. So go get cleaned up. There's some basic linen in the dresser. I'll leave some food in here in a bit. You need some meat on your bones before you drop dead and are of no use to me.”

With that, he turns to leave, but pauses at the door, glancing back at her.

“And don't mistake this for kindness. It's purely practical. You're here to work for me, and I expect you to earn your keep.”

She nods, understanding the gravity of his words.

“I won't disappoint you, Jack.”

He gives a curt nod and smirks.

“Good girl. See to it that you don't.”

He leaves on that note, closing the doors behind him. She stands in the middle of the room, taking a deep breath as she momentarily forgets to breathe. The weight of her new position and the responsibilities that come with it are heavy, but so is her sense of purpose. For the first time in years, she feels like she's moving towards something meaningful.

The room was a haven, a sanctuary from the harsh world outside. She wasted no time, heading straight to the bathroom. She peeled off her tattered clothes, wincing as she saw the bruises and cuts marring her skin. The hot water from the shower was a welcome balm, washing away the grime and tension of her arduous journey. She scrubbed herself clean, letting the water soothe her aching muscles and refresh her spirit.

Once clean, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a soft towel. She rummages through the dresser and finds a simple nightgown, which gets her thinking. He did all this. Why did he do this? This room, it's new or at least fixed up from something else. It still has the scent of fresh mortar. So did he anticipate her success? He really made a room...for her. Her appreciation for him only grew. Another smell hits her nose. There was a small table with a tray of food and a note in Jack's unmistakable handwriting: "Eat. Rest. Report to me at dawn." She smiled faintly at the terse yet considerate gesture.

“I did it, Miss Doris. I found my path.”

She takes her time with the food, the first real meal she'd had in days, savoring every bite. She can't help but think about everything. The young Jack Horner she knew had grown into a powerful and ruthless man, one who had built an empire from nothing. And she? She had transformed from a weak, broken girl into a capable and determined woman. Their reunion was unexpected, but perhaps it was fate. Now, standing at the precipice of a new chapter in her life, she resolves to give it her all. No matter what challenges lie ahead, she will face them head-on. For Jack, for herself, and for the promise of a future she never thought possible.

_______________________________

Months passed, and Lynsie quickly proved her worth within Jack's organization. Her intelligence, skill, and unwavering loyalty set her apart, earning her a reputation among the staff and within the underground network that Jack controlled. She executed missions with precision, handled delicate negotiations, and ensured that Jack's interests were always protected. Her transition from a mere tool to a trusted confidante was gradual but undeniable, soon being known around the facility as Little Lynn.

She had made herself to be not just a capable asset but an invaluable one. She had a knack for identifying weaknesses in others and exploiting them in shrewd ways, a skill Jack found particularly useful. Her skills in espionage, negotiation, and strategic planning had already yielded significant results. Jack found himself relying on her more than he initially expected.

She had settled into her role, taking on increasingly important tasks and earning the respect of the staff, albeit begrudgingly in some cases. She was working directly under Jack as his right hand, helping manage his collection, procure rare items, and deal with...problems as they arise. The quickness of her placement in a high position made most skeptical of her intentions, a good many believed her to be using Jack. Such thoughts would be buried in time. Her transformation was noticeable, not just in her physical appearance, which had become more full and polished, but in the way she carried herself. She was confident, efficient, and unflinching in her readiness to act in his service.

Jack observed her growth with a mix of admiration and caution. He valued her contributions but remained wary, knowing all too well the dangers of trust in his line of work. Still, Lynsie's unwavering dedication and the way she seamlessly integrated into his world were without fault. The child who once was so broken had become an indispensable part of his empire.

One evening, Jack sat in his trophy room reviewing research reports. His underworld connections have been fruitful at first when it came to gathering information on his goal, but now the well is running dry. For him, collecting magic is just a small drop in the bucket. Priceless artifacts and memorabilia of legend are little more than a means to a greater end. A testament to his superiority over that which once belittled him. No. These objects are nothing compared to having actual magic at his control and not by use of conduits. Which is why he aims to give himself such power. But not just any magic talent will do. He wants ALL of it. Not just a bit. Not half. ALL of it. He would be special. Command the power that was denied and be master over all. It's his wish. The thing that will finally make him happy. All that's stopping him from making his wish come true is a single map. If only he had a clue to work with.

A soft knock broke his thoughts.

“Enter.”

Lynsie entered quietly, approaching him with a calm demeanor, her eyes sharp and attentive. Over the months, she had become accustomed to the subtle nuances of his moods, reading the unspoken language of his body and expressions. Tonight, there was a tension in the air, a sense of urgency that made her pulse quicken.

“Master Jack...”

She began, her voice low and steady. Her professionalism is now more or less her default state, something he preferred along with the title she used. The causal familiarity was a bit too awkward for his taste. This seemed to be something she picked up on and kept it to a minimum and mostly when in private.

“The latest shipment arrived. I've had the items cataloged and stored. But there's something else—rumors about a relic that might interest you. My sources suggest it to be Poseidon's Trident.”

Jack's eyes flickered with interest, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk. Poseidon, god of the sea, storms, earthquakes, and horses. Frankly an oddball god when Jack gave it thought. But the Trident was a coveted prize among collectors and power-seekers alike. Total command of water, storms, and be able to rock the very earth? He'd be a fool to let that slip away from him.

“Go on.”

He prompted, leaning back in his chair.

“It seems that it has found its way into the hands of some pirates. Now, I don't know about you, but a bunch of salty scalawags don't need such a powerful instrument. I'm thinking we should kindly relieve them of the trident posthaste. After all, said item should really be in your rightful hands.”

His expression darkened, a calculating gleam in his eyes as a smirk curls his lips. Such words do cater to him so well.

“And how do you propose we abscond with such a wanted prize?”

She approached, a contemplative look on her face and her hands held behind her back.

“Hmmm...Pirates are kind of all over the place. Gung-ho, superstitious, protective, and paranoid, but also reckless and foolhardy. If word has gotten out to this point, then they will be expecting underhanded tactics. We more than likely won't the only ones aiming to steal it. So...I suggest a well-coordinated strike.”

His brow cocks and she continues.

“Ports aren't too large. A team can cover the area and lock off escape routes, effectively making any potential runners that may or may not have nabbed it go down selected paths that lead to ambushes. It's a funneling tactic to force your target into a better position of attack. A main unit can go in and attempt to score without the group, but can always fall back on the group for aid if needed.”

He let such an idea play out in his head as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he studied her.

“And you can arrange such a thing?”

She smiled slyly.

“I can start the groundwork at your approval. We have contacts who owe us favors and can be persuaded to help. The promise of coin goes a long way. Overall...It will take some coordination, but it's doable.”

His eyes glinted with approval. She had proven herself capable time and time again, and this plan was another example of her resourcefulness. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation.

“Good. You may proceed.”

He said, his voice firm.

“Prepare a team and make sure everything is airtight. No loose ends.”

She nodded.

“Understood. I'll make the arrangements and keep you informed.”

As she turned to leave he called her back, his tone softening slightly.

“Lynsie.”

She paused, turning back to face him. He hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“Don't disappoint me."

A flicker of fright crossed her eyes, and she gave him a small hardened stare.

“I won't.”

With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her. He sat back in his chair, lost in thought. He honestly didn't care if he got the trident or not. At least right now. It would be his, after all, patience is a virtue he learned to use when it came to important matters. This wasn't important. This was just a fun little test. Pushing her buttons for results. This was one with a small meaning though. A box in his desk drawer is her reward. One she has to earn. Her loyalty and competence were proving invaluable, so a little token of menial gratitude was due. Especially since...never mind. He shoved such thoughts away. As he gazed at the artifacts in his trophy room, anticipation welled within him. The future held untold power and possibilities, and he would stop at nothing to claim every last bit of it for himself. For now, he would focus on the task at hand and ensure everything went according to plan. After all, the game was only just beginning, and he intended to win.

_______________________________

It's a dark and quiet night. The moon hangs low, shining brightly over the still waters of a quaint port town. Docked like a proud beacon above all else, a pirate ship. Simple yet fair enough to see from a distance. Such calm serenity is far from true, not when chaos erupts on the deck of the ship.

It had all started when Puss in Boots had snuck aboard as the crew of cutthroats haphazardly slept on the deck. Like the stealthy thief he is, Puss pounced around and avoided waking the sleeping crew. He searched around, looking for any sign of the prize he sought. Unfortunately, the seaside hilltop village of Del Mar had been hit with a rather harsh drought, causing thirst, famine, and much hardship for the people. Puss, being a charitable Gato and hero, sought the trident to bring rain and save the town from further grief.

His search doesn't take long. Sleeping at a desk is the captain and in his grip is the trident, the blue-green gem in the core shimmered off the gold metal. Carefully, he shimmied the object from the man's grasp. Confidant in his skill, Puss lets his guard down, unaware that the captain had woken and spied the pilfering pussycat. The captain comes up from behind and snatches the weapon, attempting to stab Puss. The tabby is fleet of foot, avoiding the attempted impalement, and delivers a series of rapid kicks to the man's face. This knocks the man out but the trident is sent flying. Puss grabs it yet the momentum has it going overboard...straight for the jaws of a hungry shark.

The shark, however, goes hungry. Puss and Trident are pulled back from the brink by Papa Bear, who is of course with his family, Mama, Baby, and Goldilocks. The crime family separates the cat from the weapon and nearly rouses a pirate from their sleep when the trident is fumbled. Luckily, they stay asleep. Unluckily, this is when another enters the picture and stirs things up for the worse, at least for them. Kitty Softpaws, high up on the mast, busts out a guitar and strums loudly which wakes the ship's crew.

An all-out brawl broke out between the ship's crew, Puss in Boots, Goldilocks & the Three Bears, and Kitty Softpaws. The trident is tossed around like a hot potato as one and all fight for it. Weapons clash and claws slash. Then within moments of it starting, it seems over. Kitty gets her paws on the trident and takes off. Goldi and the bears abandon ship after her, leaving Puss to the wrath of a pissed-off band of marauding pirates...who proceed to stuff him into a canon intending to fire. But such action doesn't happen though. Not when Kitty saves him by using the Trident to summon a massive wave that washes the crew off the ship.

With threats mostly taken out and whatever pleasantries done between old familiar faces, the thieves scatter into the night, running through streets to flee the little town before daybreak. Kitty, with the trident in paw, finds most paths oddly crowded since she entered. This isn't too much of a bother, a cat is more than capable of leaping around like the world is a playground. This...was a poor move.

A faint low whistle cuts the still air. A single arrow splits into four. She can't react in time. In a flash, she's pinned to a wall by a thin but strong net. A few on horseback make themselves known but one emerges from the shadows further back, bow in hand. Kitty scrambles, unable to claw the net. Curse her former owners for this! The farthest figure comes moving in fast, her visage becoming clear in the moonlight, upon recognition Kitty's thrashing stops and her calm returns.

“I thought we were on the same team, Little Lynn.”

The cat's sassy tone falls on deaf ears yet the woman does slow down.

“Forgiveness, Miss Softpaws. I aimed to follow the glow of the trident. You just so happen to have the target.”

Lynsie reaches her and pulls the item from the netting, slinging it to her back under the bow.

“Fine work, Miss Softpaws. Master Jack will be pleased.”

She takes a dagger out and cuts the netting, freeing the captured cat.

“So...What of the others I had sent?”

Kitty scoffs.

“You might want to check the water. Those fools got chummy with the pirates and passed out after all the fun they had. If you ask me, they needed a good whooping.”

Lynsie rumbles lowly, displeased by this news. The feline stretches and jumps in surprise when a bag of gold is dropped by her.

“Payment, in full, as promised. I hope we can continue to do business with you in the future, Miss Softpaws.”

Kitty collects the bag with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure.”

She bounds away but pauses to look back.

“Tell Jack I'm available if ever he needs some real help!”

She leaps away before she can notice the murderous glare sent her way. Lynsie reaches back and clutches the trident, her grip turning her knuckles bone white.

“You should learn to keep your mouth shut. It can get you into some faulty situations.”

The gem on the trident glows, causing the ground to quake. A crack rips at her feet and travels like a shark zoning in on unfortunate prey. The men on horseback come in, one holding the reins of another steed.

“Are things okay, Miss Lynn?”

She just looks off silently, as if expectantly waiting for something to happen. Suddenly a yowl erupts, and a faint black speck flings up into the moon's glow. A smirk comes to her and she accepts the reins.

“Yes. All is fine.”

She mounts the horse and takes the lead, signaling to the rest of the units around to follow.

“What of the others?”

“They can walk. I do not tolerate such insolence. If they bother returning they shall learn this lesson personally.”

“Isn't that a bit harsh?”

The night air feels colder all of a sudden.

“Are you questioning how I run things? Because, by all means, do tell. I'd love to hear your thoughts.”

The man shrinks more and more into his saddle at her snarling.

“N-No, Miss Lynn. My mistake.”

She sneers and snaps the reins, urging the animal to take off like a shot. She intends to return with haste, racing the moon as it sinks and the sun rises.

Mission complete.

Status...Success.

...

The journey back was uneventful, the silence filled only with the soft thud of hooves against the dirt road. The moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow, creating an almost serene atmosphere. As dawn approached, the returning team rode through the gates of the pie factory, their success evident in their confident demeanor and the secured trident. The night's events had gone according to plan, with minimal complications and maximum efficiency. Lynsie dismounted and handed the reins to a stable hand before making her way inside to Jack's office, the artifact held tightly in her grip.

Jack watched the dawn break from his office window, the first light illuminating the meticulously organized space. Pulling all-nighters isn't uncommon for him but it was less often than before since he had help. Help that should be returning any time now. As the seconds ticked by, he allowed himself a rare moment of contemplation, reflecting on the journey that had brought him here and the path that lay ahead.

The sound of a light knock on the heavy door sounds, waiting for the command to enter before it creaks open.

Lynsie stepped in as he leaned back in his chair. She carried the trident with both hands and then kneels, presenting it to him with a slight bow of her head. Jack's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he rose from his chair, walking over to inspect the relic. He took the trident from her, feeling its weight and examining the craftsmanship. It was a magnificent piece, pulsating with power, its legendary aura almost palpable. He nodded appreciatively, his eyes flickering back to Lynsie.

“Impressive work.”

He murmured, his eyes never leaving the trident.

“No complications, I assume?”

“None, Master Jack.”

“Well done.”

He said, his voice carrying a rare note of genuine praise. She couldn't hide the small smile that tugged at her lips.

“I'm glad I continue to meet your expectations.”

Jack nodded, a faint smirk curling his lips. He placed the trident on his desk. Turning back to Lynsie, he crossed his arms, studying her. There was a newfound confidence in her stance, a subtle but noticeable shift in how she carried herself mere months ago.

He walked back around to his desk, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a small intricately carved box. Placing it on the desk, he slid it towards her, his expression unreadable as he leaned forward.

“Open it.”

He instructed. With confusion and caution, she took the box. She opened it to reveal a finely crafted silver choker band, lined with five large amethysts. It was simple yet elegant, and it puzzled her greatly.

“What do you think.”

“It's lovely.”

“It's yours.”

She nearly drops the box in shock.

“W-What?”

He merely turns his back and faces the window, being as nonchalantly detached as one would expect.

“Consider it a token of my, uh, acknowledgment. An incentive to continue serving me or whatever.”

She looks at him, then the box, then back to him, and then the box again before putting it down on his desk. The sound is enough to get him to look back and now he's the puzzled one.

“What are you doing?”

“I can't accept this.”

His eyebrows furrowed in surprise and irritation. He turned fully to face her, his gaze hardening as he tried to read her expression. The rejection of a gift, especially one given in a gesture of acknowledgment, was unexpected. He was accustomed to people clamoring for his approval, not turning it down.

“And why not?”

He demanded, his tone sharp.

“You know I don't GIVE things away, right? I TAKE what I want and make sure others don't have it if I can't.”

She stood her ground, her eyes meeting his with a stubborn intensity.

“This feels, how do I put it...Awkward.”

She said guardedly, choosing her words carefully.

“I serve you because that is my want, not to collect rewards. Heck, I have to quarrel with you about being paid as is. My loyalty isn't something that can be bought with gifts. Because it's something I have already given to you freely.”

Jack studied her for a long moment, weighing her words. Her sincerity was clear, and it struck a chord with him, though he wouldn't admit it.

“Fine. Then let me rephrase myself.”

He walked over to her, picked up the box, and held it out to her again, his eyes locking onto hers.

“This is yours.”

He said, his voice lower but no less firm.

“You've earned it. I am...gifting...this to you.”

His face bunched up with straining effort to utter such words.

“As a symbol of your position and your value to me.”

His face began to flush with vibrant red tones, not due to fluster, but from a lack of air as concentrating on putting on this act this hard took all his focus and breathing was something he had completely forgotten about doing.

“Wear it with pride, as a reminder of what you've achieved and what you're capable of. That I...”

“For the love of all that is god, man, stop!”

A heavy labored gasp comes from him as he gulps air for his life, being somewhat decent took more effort than he was used to.

“I...am never...doing that...again...”

“Please don't. While I appreciate what you were trying to do. That was just...so very wrong.”

“Noted...”

She took in this moment and watched as he regained his composure. He was a remorseless and greedy bugger, yet for a brief moment, the harsh calculating exterior he always presented seemed to soften, revealing a glimpse of something more human. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that, so best to pretend like it didn't happen and move on to something far less awkward. She slowly reached out and took the box from him, her fingers brushing against his large palms.

“Thank you, Jack.”

She said quietly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

“I am humbled by this most gracious of honors.”

Now back to normal, he nodded, satisfied with her acceptance of this 'gift'. Ugh, that word made him feel dirty. The hell was he thinking? Nope. Never doing this kind of thing. Doesn't matter if it's her birthday. This was way to damn unpleasant for him. Best forget this happened and get back on track.

“Good. Now, go get some rest. I want you back to duty in the afternoon. We mustn't disrupt our natural schedule.”

“Then you too should sleep. I can tell you haven't.”

Any of that humanity is tossed out the window as he glares at her.

“Just do as I say. I'll rest when I'm ready.”

Much better. All is right with her world as he is being himself again.

“As you wish.”

“Good girl.”

She nodded and left the office, clutching the box to her chest, the door closing quietly behind her. He sat back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the trident. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of satisfaction not just from acquiring a powerful artifact but from the loyalty and competence of someone. It was risky, what he was doing, letting someone close and being vulnerable. Just this once. See how it goes. He'll invest in this risk and hope it pays off in his favor.

As the morning sun continued to rise, Jack allowed himself a brief moment of contentment. He had built an empire, surrounded himself with capable individuals, and was on the cusp of achieving the ultimate power he craved. But there was still much to be done, many more artifacts to acquire, and rivals to overcome. The game was far from over, and Jack Horner intended to play it to the very end, ensuring his victory in the most spectacular way possible. For now, he would enjoy this small triumph and plan his next move, confident that with Lynsie and his other loyal followers by his side, nothing could stand in his way. The future was his for the taking, and he would stop at nothing to claim it all.

She returned to her room, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. Placing the box on her nightstand, she sat on her bed and stared at it, the weight of her journey and the responsibilities she had taken on pressing down on her. But not in a bad way. This was validation. This was proof. This was meaningful.

“You know I don't GIVE things away, right?”

A smirk creeps on her lips.

“I TAKE what I want and make sure others don't have it if I can't.”

Yet he gave her so much. Not just the choker. But this room. The her job. The clothes on her back. A sense of belonging. And the very spark that started her down a road to a different fate than life had.

“You vex me, Jack. You really do.”

After a moment, she opened the box again and took out the choker. She ran her fingers over the smooth silver and the amethysts, feeling their coolness against her skin. With a determined breath, she fastened it around her neck. The feel of it was both comforting and empowering, a tangible reminder of her progress and her place in Jack's world.

The morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. Lynsie lays back on her bed, feeling the exhaustion of the night's mission catching up with her. She closed her eyes, a sense of purpose and resolve settling over her. She had found her path, and she was determined to walk it with unwavering loyalty and strength. Serving at the side of the one she felt worthy by.

~~~~~~

[I love writing for this pair. The dynamic is fun and the lore I've crafted I try to keep in check with the in-universe canon. I hope to make more when inspiration hits. There's always room for more even if it's one-shots.]

[giish]

posted by NymphaeAvernales 1 yr. ago

The comment I'm about to copy/paste came from a post in..I think it was AITA, maybe R_A….of a guy who wanted to abandon his fiancee just a few months after she was injured,and he wasn't even acting as caretaker or anything at the time. I was shocked at the number of people basically telling him he wasn't obligated to give one single fuck about the woman he supposedly loved, but this commenter really let the guy have it.

*I see a lot of patients whose partners do this to them. Many of them have other health challenges including TBIs and other neurological problems on top of what I’m seeing them regarding. In fact, I’m often seeing them because of depression or attempted suicide due to abandonment.

It is overwhelmingly men who abandon their severely ill partners. If I see men in these situations, their wives and fiancées usually stick with them and take on their care, and usually we have to step in a little to gently remind them to get the care and rest they need too where possible. When a woman is in this situation, more than half the cases I see feature the man emotionally checking out, doing everything he can to half-ass her care, blaming her, becoming emotionally neglectful and abusive, and then leaving.

So be assured that you’re normal. The overwhelming majority of other men in your situation would also abandon the woman they claimed to love and want to share a life with pretty much as soon as they’re not getting anything out of it. You won’t be alone, and you will find a huge number of people to make sympathetic noises and assure you that you did the right thing for poor you.

And you know what - yeah, this is an overwhelmingly hard situation. It’s one of the worst things a person can face. It’s terrifying. It changes everything. You will have a more fun life and be less stressed and be better cared for yourself and be happier in your other relationships etc if you leave.

But you need to be clear that the emotional trauma of abandonment kills. At least she’s physically cared for so it won’t have that effect, but taking away one of the tiny pieces of emotional joy she has left? Leaving her trapped in her wounded body, grieving for you, helpless to do anything to change it, with this whole new kind of pain and bitterness to cloud up her thoughts?

You will set back her recovery. Truly you might kill her. At the very least you will profoundly compound her trauma. She might never recover from this accident; she will also never recover from you. You will become an active contributor to how terrible the worst thing to ever happen to her was, and if she doesn’t survive it will partly be your fault.

Her parents may well react to you with disgust, as will others. People on here are suggesting you speak to them first. You probably still should, but don’t go in there expecting that conversation to involve them giving one single fuck about how sad you are that she’s no longer of use to you so poor you has to move on. Don’t try to convince them your abandonment of her is okay; it’s not. Just tell them plainly that you’re going to leave her and ask them to be aware that she will be in unbearable distress and will need even greater care once you’ve done this. Don’t try to soften it; you can’t. Don’t try to phrase it nicely; it will just add self-serving dishonesty to the list of your features. Don’t try to pretend you’re not being a bad person by doing this. You will be.

You will move on with your therapist, and you will be fine. People who do appalling things justify them to themselves with alarming alacrity; it’s just a mental and emotional self defence mechanism. You’ll be fine and picking up the next poor woman with a sob story about how you “lost” your last partner in no time.

But if you have a conscience, this will be on it for the rest of your life. And if you have any sense, you won’t ask anyone else to marry you again. You don’t want a marriage; you don’t actually want a partner; you claim to love someone, and however much you were capable of love, that’s still apparently not enough to make you treat them with decency and compassion when it might cost you something.

Them’s the breaks. You can do something incredibly hard and painful that will hurt you, or you can let down and abandon someone you claim to love in a completely monstrous fashion. There’s no way to do this and not be a terrible human being, and you’re just going to have to live with that* (context link)

[yzxsn]

080223

| damn, you live like this?

it was one of those days when kodaka really needed to get some studying done, for despite his regimented schedule during the past few days, he was seriously having a difficult time focusing on the symbols upon pages. on any other occasion, his body double to ensure he focused was one of his new classmates, and they would voluntarily show up to the library to get started on revision for one of their lecture notes.

coincidentally, sena had decided to invite the man over. in politeness, he naturally obliged.

now, it wasn't stated to him the reason behind the invitation. he simply took it at face value -- a partner to study with, even though it was sena of all people. doubtless there would be some underlying motivations there that he wasn't in approval of (though, neither was he exactly against it). he was more worried about straying off their cram session, however, considering how poorly it went during the summers of their high school days. so he made his friend promise that they would stay on task.

sena agreed -- on one condition.

| sena: i have something to show you when you get here

strange. and he was hoping it wasn't anything related to weaseling into his pants, but--

| kodaka: sure.

when he arrived, he was expecting to see yozora greet him at the front entrance, but only stella was there to make overtly flirty gestures with little bearing behind them. it was then he remembered how yozora had already left to attend tokyo-u, so the manor would've been dedicated to just the two university students (butler aside) for the day.

sena called him up from the top of the stairwell, and he ascended. she seemed happier than usual -- though kodaka would avoid trying to admit he hadn't been monitoring sena's demeanor past the rigorous note-taking during his classes. his friend was giggling, skipping about just as she lead him towards the double-doors of her room.

"kodaka, do you remember the thing i wanted to show you? well are you ready to see it?"

he shrugged, grinning. though, at the back of his mind, he was already worried about what the showcase would've been about. it was in his best interest to stay calm. "sure, what is it?"

kodaka would not have been able to reinact his surprise to sena's room during his first visit if he tried.

so it was a good thing he didn't have to. where the room used to be devoid of yozora pictures during the girl's stay over at the kashiwazaki's place, there now existed more images of her -- almost including b-roll shots from when she was staying in the manor -- and kodaka's demeanor morphed into that of a statue.

oh man. why was this the type of secret he was meant to keep… from girls, about girls?

sena seemed not to consider much of the repercussions of having her collection back up for presentation. in fact, she relished in it, dancing her way into the room in laughter, and calling for kodaka to enter, "and look! i even got a life-sized cutout of her! this thing took ages to get shipped here!"

okay. if yozora's backlash wasn't enough to educate the woman about the definition of privacy and the considerations of a parasocial relationship, then surely it was up to him as the protagonist to drill that into her.

but. for now. he would have a moment to himself.

"what the heck, sena -- it's been a few months and you've already gone back to living like this?!?!?!?!?!?"

…

during their yozora clean up session (not what kodaka had intended to do that day), he idly tossed back a tense and confused, "look, are you sure you're not playing for the other team? you know, i'm not going to judge you, even if you are."

to his dismay, sena's reply from over her shoulder was a frustrated, "what are you even talking about? i just keep them around because i miss her company, that's all!"

"oh, 'that's all'," he muttered to himself.

"a-and you better not tell her i said that, you hear?"

[tinalbion]

A  R E A L  H E R O | t w o

You move to Evergreen for a fresh start, you've inherited your grandparents' place, and then you meet the sweetest guy. But there's a duality to him, something a bit darker. Then you meet Vigilante, a killer anti-hero who just looks out for the safety of Evergreen, but the dangerous side of him appeals to you more than you care to admit.

》MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT《

Pairing: Vigilante x f!Reader 

Rating: Explicit; smut, drinking, and so much fluff and angst

Length: 7.3k (guys I am SO sorry...) 

p a r t  2   | a f t e r t h o u g h t

If you would have been told that you'd be a witness to a vigilante superhero murdering two men right in front of you, you'd have said they were insane. 

But the events were still fresh in your mind almost a week later, and you had been plagued with daydreams of Vigilante on an almost constant basis. Sure it had been a while since you'd had proper sex with someone, but you didn't think it would have been this big of a deal either. Murdering, sex, it was all a whirlwind of chaotic shit that had suddenly come into your life. What really got you rethinking your questionable morals was the lack of communication from his end. 

You'd given him your number and hoped he would have said something by now, anything really, but you hadn't heard from him since. You had to remind yourself that he was out here doing a lot of dirty work in order to keep Evergreen safe and sound for its residents, but even a text would have been acceptable. 

'Quit it,' you thought to yourself, 'he's not obligated to message you or anything. Stop getting hung up on this guy. You don’t even know him.'

It was a slap in the face for you to be ghosted like that, you figured you had a fun enough time, but come on, you needed to think realistically. To get your mind off of things, you decided that you needed to go out and have some lunch, get some air, and carry a bigger knife in your pocket in case more assholes decided to ruin your day. 

The breakfast was good enough when you'd first gone, so now you figured it was time to try a lunch platter at Fennel Fields. You had a sneaking suspicion that this would be your new hangout spot for food, but you really should get acquainted with other places soon. 

You arrived and ordered something from the menu that seemed to be a good enough option and you killed the time by reading a book you brought with you. Something about a half-elf woman who passed as human and was turned into a fish for 14 years. It was a trip, to say the least, but you were enjoying yourself more than you thought. A figure approached the table and you figured the food was ready to be served, but you were greeted with the familiar face of the busboy you met a week prior. 

"Oh, hey!" He chirped excitedly. "Fancy seeing you here again, you must like the food, huh?"

You smiled up at Adrian and nodded your head to the side. "You know, I think I do, it's pretty good here. But how are you, uh, Adrian, right?"

You remembered his name. He couldn't have been happier to hear you recall his name, it sounded so good on your lips. "Uh, well I'm great, actually! Thanks…" he trailed off when he looked down and saw the book you were reading. "Wait, you know that series?"

You looked questioningly at him until you realized he'd been referencing the book in your hand. "Oh, this? Yeah, the set was gifted to me since I'm big into fantasy and sci-fi stuff, not bad so far. You've heard of it?"

Adrian nodded and tried his best not to get too excitable. "Oh yeah! I uh, I picked it up at some point and really enjoyed it. I've been following her entire series, she's still writing for it, too! She wants like, twenty-three books for her entire story."

You found it rather cute that you two were into the same books, seemed like a lovely coincidence. "Whoa, she's still going? I only have like, five of these… how many are there now?"

"Fifteen."

Your jaw dropped and you couldn't help but laugh. "Damn, she's got a vision and she’s sticking to it, I respect that."

Adrian nodded and didn't know what else to say, he shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat. "Look, I'm sorry I bothered you, just wanted to say hi, but I'll leave you alone so you can eat and get back to your book."

"No, I really appreciate it, Adrian. You're always welcome to say hi." Your smile was so warm that it lifted his spirits immediately. "And hey, if you ever wanna hang out maybe, I don't really know anyone here yet, I'd be more than down to."

You wanted to hang out with him, of all people? He wanted to question it but decided against it in the end. "Um, yeah, sure! I'd uh, I'd like that… though I gotta say I'm not into the usual stuff most people are."

"Hmm well, what are you into?" 

He blushed a little and looked away. "Don't tease me, but I like games like D&D, stuff like that. Though movies are fun, too."

Your eyes lit up. "Oh you're into D&D? I've always wanted to try it out, never had the time, well, until recently anyway."

Adrian’s eyes once again widened, his obvious excitement plastered all over his face. “Hey uh, it’s a long shot but if you ever, I dunno, wanted to come over and play sometime, I could teach you? I don’t really have a campaign going much anymore, but it would be fun to teach someone I think.”

You sensed his unease and saw those big doe hazel-colored eyes, you couldn’t help but fall victim to them. This kid was really sweet, you knew he would be a nice guy, someone easy to talk to. “I’d actually love that, yeah! I’m pretty much open for whenever, really, want my number?”

He smiled wide. “I already-” He paused and cleared his throat, panic rose in his eye for a brief moment. “I was already gonna ask, it’s like you read my mind… I can type it in for you?” He pulled out his phone and unlocked it, his thumbs waiting for your direction.

You rattled off your number and watched his face as he typed, it was in pure concentration mode, you felt a pit in your stomach that resembled the cliche feeling of butterflies. Ridiculous, but it was unavoidable all the same. He slipped the phone back in his pocket and thought for a second and removed his hat, rubbing his hand through his hair. 

“So how about tomorrow afternoon? I could pick you up and we could order some lunch, yeah? Unless you don’t want to do that, we could always-”

“Adrian, that’s perfect,” you assured him and gave him a kind smile. Something about him felt so familiar and you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Want me to bring anything specific? Like a notebook or something?”

“Actually,” he said as his brows furrowed, “that’s not a bad idea, yeah! A notebook, pen, pencil, whatever you write with, and uh whatever else you wanna bring? Surprise me I guess, if you want to do something else besides that then we can figure it out.”

You both agreed to meet up tomorrow around noon, he’d pick you up and you’d drive to his place. You were curious about what his place looked like and wondered who he lived with if anyone. Living alone wasn’t exactly the best considering you had always been used to living with someone, but it had come as an instant change that interrupted your bland, normal, predictable life. And you couldn’t be more thankful for it. The move was new to you, it was a new town with new people, and definitely more interesting everyday happenings. That’s all you could ask for, it was going to be one step at a time, and you already had a friend in Evergreen. A good friend, and then there was Vigilante, who was more of a fuck buddy? You had no goddamned idea. 

*

The next morning, you were already half awake when your phone notification went off. You checked it as you brushed your teeth and smiled when you noticed it was a message from Adrian. A glob of toothpaste fell from your mouth and you cursed under your breath. 

Morning! Hope to still see you later on today. Adrian :)

So later on, you stood outside in the bright rays of the sun, the spring breeze swept through your hair and made it dance around your face, which blocked your eyes and you barely had time to spot the Seabring pull up right in front of you. Adrian leaned toward the open passenger window and waved at you. Your grin was infectious as you slid into the car and placed your notebook and pencil case on your lap, then you slid your seatbelt across your chest, and turned to look at him. His outfit was simple enough for him sure, but to you, it gave him so much more personality outside of his job. He had a sky blue tee-shirt underneath a cozy zip-up sweater that had several colors on it, and his hair was so full and soft, you had a fleeting thought of how good it would feel to run your hands through it. 

‘Christ, get a grip, babe,’ you scolded yourself and looked away from him. 

Adrian caught you staring at him, he wondered if something was wrong. “Am I the one who has something in my teeth now?” he joked and gave a hearty laugh. 

You chuckled in response and met those eyes again. “Not at all, just not used to you out of the work uniform, you look really nice.”

His face dropped and he was the one to look away now, his hands reached out and gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Thanks, Y/N, you always look really nice, too,” he marveled with a grin on his face. 

He began to drive off and you watched out the window, your attention stolen by the sights that you hadn’t had the heart to explore on your own. Adrian kept looking over at you and watched the expressions on your face change from curious to amused to in awe. He seemed to forget to focus on everything around him as he just watched you, he felt content in that knelt until the car swerved a bit and he gasped with both hands jerking the wheel straight again. 

'Shit! Fuck, I hope she didn't- oh no she's looking at me, she noticed.' 

"You okay?" You were surprised and worried, the sudden jerk of the car freaked you out and the last thing you needed was Adrian feeling ill and passing out at the wheel.

"I-I yeah, I'm fine, I'm so sorry, shit, I didn't realize, but I'm sorry. Won't happen again." He stared straight ahead, his attention fully on the road to make sure he wouldn't scare you again. 

"Just making sure," you reply softly, "if you need to pull over or something then go ahead, just want to make sure you're alright." 

Adrian laughed and looked over at you for a short moment, then back at the road. "You always this nice to everyone?" 

"Just the people who matter."

Fuck. His jaw clenched as he tried to remain focused, but thankfully his place was just up this block and he wouldn't have to worry about crashing the car again. He pulled into the drive and parked, but he didn't get out instantly. He sat back in his seat and stared out the windshield for a moment until you placed your hand gently on his arm. He flinched for a second and looked at you, his expression was unreadable. 

You gave him a worried look but you figured he'd say something if anything was wrong. Maybe he really didn't want you over, he didn't want to go back on asking you over to his place, maybe it was all just out of pity. You sat in silence as you began to doubt yourself and you wrapped your arms around yourself, the quietness between you both only made you feel at a loss. Adrian finally turned to look at you and sighed. 

"I didn't mean to freak you out, I've just been feeling kinda weird? I don't know what's going on with me, I'm just not used to socializing with a lot of people, new people too. It's a lot to handle and I'm sorry I freaked you out. If you wanna go home I'd completely understand, you know?"

You listened and wanted to help any way you could but had no idea where to begin. So you placed your hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze. "Adrian, whatever is up with you, I know we don’t know each other well but you’ve been kind to me, the least I can do is return the favor.” It was simple, it was direct, and you wish you had said more. It was hard to articulate just how you felt sometimes, and although you and Adrian were still technically strangers, you wanted nothing more than to hang out with him. “Let’s go inside and play some D&D, sound good? I’ll buy lunch, my treat.”

As he watched you get out of the car, he looked down at the steering wheel and scoffed, wondering just how he ended up findings someone like you, then he mustered up as much confidence as he could and got out of the car to trail behind you. 

*

“Despite the best efforts of a pious and powerful cleric and others, none could stop the arcane lights and unidentified sounds that come at night,” Adrian had been doing his best to make sure you had the best time despite not knowing what the hell was actually going on, but you were laughing and intrigued by the storyline, that’s all that mattered; you were having fun. “The only ones left to fight the corrupt head of the local adventurer's guild are you, the intrepid heroes, backed only by the hopes of those from the streets of a large city and their promised reward of the adulation and gratitude of the locals.”

“Ooh, those damn clerics,” you mused as you took a sip at your beer, your mind swirling as you tried to focus, but you were laughing at how cute Adrian had been making the voices different for each character you both encountered. “So we’re going on another adventure! That’s exciting and I am terrified.”

“No, you shouldn’t be scared, be excited! You never know what you’re gonna encounter, you know!” Adrian had begun to build more of the story and you listened closely, you swore you did, but something about when he talked it just drew you in and you couldn’t help but feel content, safe. 

Not much different when you were around Vigilante. He hadn’t been on your mind much, not when you were with Adrian, but it was still uncomforting to you that he just blew you off as he had. It made you feel things you should never have, but that’s why you needed this hangout, you needed to distract yourself from him, no matter how much you fought against it. 

It was like Adrian could sense a shift in your demeanor, his eyes perked up and watched as you stared off at the makeshift board he had set up and he sat up straight. “If you wanna take a break Y/N, we can, I sometimes get a bit too into it and get distracted. You having fun at least?”

You looked up at him, the warmth in your cheeks spread to the tips of your ears. “Oh hell yeah, I’m having loads of fun, are you kidding? This is a great distraction, plus I still got pizza, I’m content.”

“What would you need a distraction from?” he asked curiously.

Your face probably gave away how you were feeling and it made Adrian smirk a little, so you took another large sip and sighed. “Well, I met Vigilante, you heard of him?”

Adrian’s frame stiffened slightly. “Oh uh, him? Yeah, yeah, I know him! He’s pretty popular around Evergreen.”

You looked surprised. “Ah, you DO know him, he saved my ass big time this past week,” you mused and shyly hid behind the bottle of beer in your hand. 

Adrian laughed and sat back in his chair, his body still a little tense from the topic. "He's saved me a few times too, he's definitely a good guy." 

You nodded mindlessly in agreement while you also sat back. “I think he blew me off.” You scoffed at your comment and began to laugh hysterically. “Oh my god, it sounds so ridiculous when I say it out loud. A guy killed two assholes for me and I stupidly gave him my number and he blew me off. Ridiculous, huh?”

He laughed nervously and nodded his head awkwardly. “I mean, the guy is busy, who knows what crazy fight he’s gotten into, or if he’s on a mission, you know? I bet he’ll reach out somehow, how could he not? If he stands you up I’ll… I don’t know, I’ll kick his ass for you.”

You laughed at how determined he was. “Thanks, Adrian, you’re the best.” 

He shifted in his chair and looked at the tabletop for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “So uh, I gotta ask, I’m assuming you ‘like’ Vigilante? Like, LIKE-LIKE, or just… Eh?”

Again, another laugh burst forth and you couldn’t contain it, but you leaned your arms on the table and rested your head in your hands. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool, never had someone kill people for me, so there’s that.” You were holding back, of COURSE, you were holding back, you liked Adrian and you didn’t want to immediately tell him that you slept with the guy. You ended up liking both and you didn’t know how this would end up working out. Was Adrian the jealous type? Shit, you just kept digging yourself into a bigger hole. What a way to get a fresh start in a new place.

He knew you didn’t want to mention it, it was something he wouldn’t have mentioned to many people either, but it was a difficult thing to just throw in the mix on your first week here, poor thing. But hell, he couldn’t help it and he didn’t regret a minute of it, he just wished he could indulge in his secret with you, god, he wanted that so badly. But to put your life on the line wasn’t in his plan whatsoever, he’d just have to deal with that no matter how painful. It was the best option for you. 

He finally nodded and stood up from his chair to go and grab another beer, and before he was about to turn around to ask you if you’d wanted another one, you were already up and standing so close to him. He tensed and you shifted back a step, hoping you didn’t off-put him or anything, you just wanted to… you didn’t even know, your head was done in by all of this and you never felt more confused. You really did like Adrian, and you really enjoyed your time with Vigilante, but overall you knew the option you had to go with, for your own sanity. 

“Adrian,” you muttered, “I really am having fun with you. I was hoping we could maybe do this again? Whenever you’re free…” 

He tilted his head to look at your face, to really look at it, and a small smirk played at his lips. “Yeah, you really want to?” 

You reached out and grabbed his hand in yours and held it, the pad of your thumb rubbed over his knuckles. “Obviously, this was great, and we can still watch a movie or something if you’re up for it?” 

“A movie?”

You nodded and remained hopeful that he’d agree. 

“Yeah, sure, what do you like? I got all sorts of movies we can check out!”

“How about you show me your favorite?” 

That made him smile and he abandoned the thought of grabbing a beer for now and took off down the hall to his room, where he searched through the large shelf lined with a bunch of DVDs. He was running his finger along the spines as he read each title and searched for the one movie he loved to watch with people and exclaimed happily when he found it. He had almost dropped it once he turned around to see you in the doorway, looking around at his room curiously.

‘Shit! Did I put my suit away? I think it’s in the hamper, all that blood from the other day might need some Shout still, fuck, okay, act natural.’ He looked at you and held out the movie, his face relayed how nervous he felt as he handed it off to you and he was thankful when you grabbed it from him. “So that’s the one, you ever-”

“Oh my god, you like this movie, too?! I used to watch this all the time, at least once a week.”

You had to stop being so perfect, Adrian thought to himself as stared at you in awe. “I can’t believe you like it! What, that’s crazy… Let’s go and watch it immediately!” He grew excitable as you ran down the hall and he took off after you.

You skidded to a halt as you slid in your socks across the hardwood floor, you didn’t want to impose and act too comfortable here, so you spun around on your heels and held out the movie, only to have Adrian yelp and bump into you so hard that you almost fell to the ground, but he caught you with ease. His arms were flexed and you could feel the amount of strength he had in them as you clutched the movie to your chest with one hand and latched onto him with the other. 

“Whew, that was close, why’d you stop! I could have broken something!” He couldn’t stop laughing now as he saw the stunned look on your face, but that laughter died down as he pulled you up and made sure that once again, you were okay. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just got lost in your eyes is all,” you teased and gave him a mischievous grin. 

He rolled his eyes and groaned loudly. “Oh man, that was awful, you really need to work on those line deliveries.” But no matter how playful he felt he hadn’t pulled away until you slipped from his grasp and you wandered over to the couch and plopped down on the end. 

“Oh, Adrian! It’s movie time! Come on!” you teased him relentlessly today and damn, did he love it. 

The movie had been loaded up and you both got comfortable on the sofa as you both talked about theories and fun memories you had associated with it, then it trailed off into more and more until the sun had sunk past the horizon and the street lamps flickered on. You had barely noticed, you had an incredible time, and couldn’t have been more at ease with everything, living here in Evergreen didn’t have to be complete chaos ALL the time, right?

Another movie was at a close and the credits started to roll as you had slowly begun to doze off, your head rested on Adrian’s shoulder and his arm was draped over yours. He nudged you a little and woke you slowly. 

“Hey, it’s getting late, you wanna crash here? I can stay on the couch no problem,” he said softly. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you let out a drawn-out yawn, your arms stretched high over your head and you cracked part of your back. You sighed in relief and looked over at Adrian. “I wish I could but I have to be up early-ish tomorrow to file some paperwork with the bank for the property, adult stuff.” You made a face to show how unimpressed you were with your errands tomorrow and Adrian giggled.

“Well, then next time? If there’s gonna be a-a next time?”

You nodded and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Of course, there will be, I had so much fun today, really.” Adrian’s arm was still draped behind you and you had felt so warm and comfortable against him, you just wanted to feel that again if only for a moment, so you leaned against him and snuggled into his side. 

He looked down at you, so many thoughts racing in that head of his that he didn’t even realize that he’d been leaning in closer toward you, your face was so close to his that he could smell the scent left behind of your shampoo, and you both fell into it. You had shared in a very sweet, gentle kiss with the man you had slowly begun to fall for despite everything that had happened earlier this week, and it was everything you had hoped it would be. 

His hand slid to the back of your neck and pulled you deeper into it, a low moan vibrated against his mouth and you only wrapped yourself around him to get as close as you could. You finally got to run your fingers through his hair and it was worth the wait, the softness tickled your fingers until you gripped onto his locks a bit firmly. Adrian moaned under your grip and you could tell he wanted so much more with you, but you felt a wave of utter disappointment when he pulled away.

“I’ve waited all day to do that,” he confessed with a haze of lust still hanging over him. 

“I was wondering if that was gonna happen…” you chuckled and licked your bottom lip as you sat upright again. 

"Well, you know, I didn't wanna kiss you if you were with, uh, Vigilante…" He had to play this off correctly, he had to be sure you wouldn't know it was him, you needed to be protected.

You pulled back with a grimace and had no idea how to respond to that. “Adrian, I’m not ‘with’ Vij, he stood me up and I haven’t heard from him in a week. Why, you jealous?” You could sense his unease and lean in a little, then you place a gentle kiss on his cheek. Adrian seemed a little nervous about all of this but you grabbed his hand again and kept peppering his face with kisses until he began to laugh a little. “I really like you, Adrian,” you confessed, “it’s not something I expected but I think you’re good…”

“Good?”

You nodded. “Yeah, good. You’re a good guy from what I’ve learned today.”

Adrian smirked as he stood from the sofa and pulled you up to your feet, his arms wrapped around you as he just stood there with you in his embrace. “That’s not something I hear often, it’s nice…” 

You both had shared in one more kiss and regretfully pulled away so he could take you home, and for you, Vigilante was just an afterthought. Adrian was here, he was present and willing to try to see where things went. You both talked in the car and found it difficult to pull away from one another, you stayed in your doorway and watched as the Seabring pulled off and disappeared from view. Your heart was full and you felt truly happy with Adrian, it was an uneasy tumbling knot in your stomach, but you couldn’t have been happier at this moment. 

It was getting late but you couldn’t sleep after you’d showered, so you sat in your bed and tried to read the rest of your book but it was hopeless. Suddenly you heard small little thwack sounds coming from your window, several followed and you were skeptical to get out of bed. What if friends of those guys found out where you live? Fuck, you didn’t think about that. You slid from under your sheets and you went to grab the baseball bat from the corner of the bedroom and held onto it as you stealthily walked up to the side of the window and peeked your head around. Slowly, you pulled the curtain back and saw none other than Vigilante standing down on the front step and he waved.

Your body was suddenly so tense seeing him there, what were you supposed to do now? Let him in? Ignore him completely? Fuck, you knew you didn’t have it in you to turn him away, you were the one who needed answers and you weren’t going to keep wondering.

A sigh followed as you stepped away from the window and descended down the stairs and up to the front door, the baseball bat still in your hand as you greeted the masked man with a scowl on your face.

“Oh hey there, Y/N, glad to see you were still up, I know it’s late but- wait, what’s wrong? Why do you have that bat?”

“Oh well I haven’t heard from you in a week and then you show up out of nowhere throwing rocks at my window. I thought you were one of the guys' friends come back to kick my ass or something!” There was obvious anger in your voice and you felt incredibly frustrated. 

You were in such a nice starting place with Adrian and then all of a sudden this guy comes around and puts a dent in all of that. 

“Oh, shit I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but uh, about that whole week thing… Look, I had people after me, I had to hide out. As much as I wanted to be around you, I didn’t want to be a fuck up and have them find you somehow, you being in danger is not on my list. These fucks would murder you without a second thought.”

He was right, he murdered people and that brought unwanted attention, no matter how he was just ‘serving justice’ by murdering those who were bad, it still put him and you in a lot of danger. That’s when you should have just ended it, that one time was a moment of weakness, that was it, just break it off and try to focus on yourself and Adrian. But of course, you were a fucking doormat sometimes and you heard what you wanted. 

“You were protecting me…” you repeated. 

Vigilante nodded and threw his hands up. “Exactly! You get it, come on, babe, I’d never bring those fuckbags to your doorstep.”

Shit. “Well, what are you doing here so late, then? Come to tell me you’re out of hiding? You have my number, you could have just sent a message.” You tried oh so hard to play it off, to show him you wouldn’t break. 

He stepped forward and his gloved hand was placed gingerly under your chin. “Oh come on, I had to see you, you’ve been on my mind a lot, I couldn’t just send a fucking message. That’s so impersonal.” 

You scoffed and pulled away from him and opened your door further, a silent invitation. You couldn’t draw attention to your doorstep with him just standing outside of your place, so you needed to get this over and done with before you got him out and you could finally sleep. 

You walked over to the kitchen island and leaned against it after to leaned the bat against one of the stools, your arms crossed as you let out a sigh. “You’re welcome to a drink or whatever, then I think you should leave…” 

Vigilante stood where he was, his heavy stare made you feel more exposed than you ever had in front of him and you tried your best not to let him affect you so badly. “What is it, Y/N?”

“You KNOW what it is, Vij, I just… you’re right, I don’t want any fuckbags at my door and I don’t wanna be dragged into any heroic bullshit. I’ve been talking to someone and I really like him, I don’t wanna mess that up, you know? I just, I can’t do that to him, he’s sweet and charming, so fucking nice. TOO good for me. I like you too Vij, but I just, he reminded me how different you guys are and it’s…” You sighed heavily and didn’t know what else to say.

Fuck, if only he could tell you right now, he would have too, he would have dropped to his knees and revealed himself to you, that it was him the entire time. Both of the men you fell for were one in the same. But that’s what hurt the most; you believed that Adrian was a safer opinion for you, but you were so incredibly wrong. Vigilante sighed beneath his mask and felt conflicted. He felt selfish, he WAS selfish, so that’s why he didn’t even decide to think twice about it and he rolled up the bottom half of his mask, revealing his mouth like he had before. 

“Y/N, I get that I really do, but fuck you and I both know there’s something here and I ain’t letting that go, I couldn’t, I can’t. I thought about nothing but you while I was… while I was gone.”

You hated him so much right now, he prayed on your feelings for him, he must have, and he sensed how weak he made you. You lowered your head and let out a frustrated sigh, you let your guard down which allowed Vigilante to step forward without fear of being scorned in the oment for what he was about to do.

His hands were suddenly on you, and you would have lied if you said you ddin’t enjoy how he felt, the spark of his skin on yours as you both shared in a moment reserved just for yourselves. 

Your eyes ghosted across his face. “Vij,” your tone was low, it warned him not to do what he planned on, but yo ucould already feel yourself slipping away from thinking rationally. 

Stepping in between your thighs, he pushed his body against yours as his hands held onto your arms, it was as if he was trying to stop himself, but he was losing. You both were. He ground his hips against yours, his forehead rested against yours and he heard your breath hitch. “I can convince you, can’t I?”

You bit down on your lip as you allowed his hands to drift down until he grabbed you behind your thighs, then he lifted you easily on the edge of the kitchen counter. If you had been in your right mind, you would have shoved him off of you and kicked him out, but were you ever in your right mind when he was around? It was the thrill of danger that followed, being friends with someone like him who believed in delivering his own reign of justice, it was delicious. 

Vigilante wanted to feel your hands on him again though you had rested them against his chest, he needed more, so he quickly abandoned his suit and then his hands found the hem of your shirt, he pulled your sleep shirt over your head and it left you naked from the waist up. He hummed once his gloved were torn off and he slowly placed his hands on your breasts, the softness of your flesh against his fingertips felt so fucking right, and he let out a low grumble as he ducked his head down to capture your nipple in his mouth. His tongue rolled around the sensitive nub and you let out this incredible moan of his name. 

One hand pawed at your breast while the other got much needed attention from his mouth, and then he pulled away and lightly blew cold air on your nipple, the sudden temperature change made you gasp, but had no time to react much further when he placed his mouth on the other side. Your head fell back and you arched into his touches, you could feel your pussy begin to throb, wanting so much more from him, but you couldn’t bare to make him stop now. 

His cock strained against his suit pants and he began to rub himself against your inner thigh, the friction was so fucking good as he panted out your name while his head rested on your shoulder. He kissed your skin there once, twice, and then bit down firmly and listened to the little moan you released. Fuck, you were addictive and he needed to have all of you. His kisses on your skin trailed up to your throat, the side of your jaw, and his tongue darted out and licked down to your clavicle and bit down. 

“Fuck, Vij, harder,” you pleaded much to his surprise. 

He did just that and bit down a little harder, his hips jerked up and he pushed against your aching cunt, and you were already so wet that you could feel the dampness of your panties and your shorts sticking to you, so you reached out and fumbled with his utility belt and placed it on the countertop behind you. 

He struggled to kick his suit pants off but had finally pulled them down enough to where they fell with ease to his ankles, he kicked them away and then yanked your shorts down when you lifted your ass from the counter. He could smell the arousal on you, your panties showed the evidence and he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought of having you on his mouth, but that would have to wait for another time. When he finally was naked in front of you, he positioned himself between your legs and pushed inside of you, your groans and sounds were all that followed. He bucked his hips forward and tested the waters, watched your face carefully as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hang on. 

Your entire body was on fire now as he fucked you, took you like you had recalled the first night, but this was much faster and harder as he took you against the counter. He buried himself inside of you with each thrust, and he knew you were enjoying it as your nails cloawed into his back. It didn’t bother him in the slightest, it only fueled him to continue, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wetness that dripped down the inside of your thighs. This was his heaven, this was where he needed to be. 

His hand finally reached down and began to finger your clit, stimulating you into overdrive as you twitched in his arms, your cries sounding so sweet to his ears. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he crooned, “does anyone fuck you like I do?”

You tried to speak at first but with each slap into you, it caused you to lose track of what you’d tried to say, your mouth was so dry. “N-No, no one does,” you admitted through your haze. His fingers still rubbed your clit as he fucked into you and you were feeling pure bliss. 

He couldn’t even try to explain the feeling it gave him to know this, to know that he’d be the only one who had fucked you and made you feel this way, it made him smirk as he pressed down and capture your lips again. Over and over, he kissed you, his tongue slipped into your mouth as his hand slipped away from your clit, his arms wrapped around you as he came undone inside of you. He drew out your name beside your ear, a hiss followed as his cock throbbed around your tight pussy, but his hips didn’t slow, not until you came on him. It only took a few more hard thrusts until you followed suit and clenched down onto him. 

The sweat that coated your skin caused your hair to stick to your face, but you didn’t care, your body fell limp in his arms as the tiredness you so craved before had finally begun to claw at you. Vigilante didn’t pull away from you, instead, he held onto you tighter and the bottom half of his face nuzzled your cheek as he peppered more kisses along your jaw. 

You hummed when his lips pressed against yours again, and all of the things you had felt earlier faded, your anger and resentment had all been abandoned and you wondered just why you had wanted him to leave in the first place. His hand swept your hair away from your face as he eyed you through his visor. 

“When can I see you?” you asked, hopeful that he’d let it slip tonight. 

He chuckled under his breath. “I don’t know,” he answered, “I want to show you, but what if, well, what if it’s not what you expected?” 

You smiled and ran your finger along his jaw. “I’d say it wouldn’t matter.”

“It would, I know it would.” Vigilante sighed and said your name softly, and it struck something in you. 

“What?” 

“What do you mean what?”

You pulled your face away a little and watched his lips. “Say that again,” you instructed. 

“Do you mean ‘what’?”

You laughed a little. “No, my name, say it again for me?”

Vigilante chuckled again and said your name again and again, mumbling it in between kisses that he left on your lips. It was uncanny, you’d heard it said like that before, and you would have to deal with it in the morning. 

“You’re tired,” he mentioned, “come on, let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He pulled out of you and helped steady yourself to your feet, then he had insisted he pick you up and carry you to the upstairs bathroom, where he took care of you. 

Aftercare was important and he also believed in this, so he made sure to be as gentle as possible. You watched him as he focused, his mask still slightly rolled up. When he caught you staring at him, he smiled. 

“You remind me of someone,” you blurted out. 

“Oh yeah? Is he just as handsome as me? Probably not possible, I am rather fucking stunning.”

“I can’t confirm that fact, if you hadn’t noticed.” You loved to tease him and he responded so well to it. “But I don’t know, I think he is.”

Vigilante looked up at you and knew you meant Adrian, himself, his counterpart. He swelled with pride at the mere thought, but it also made his stomach drop. You had been picking up on little things here and there, soon, you’d figure it out and he wasn’t sure that he was ready for when you did. 

“Well I’m glad,” was all he responded with. “I like seeing you like this, you know.” When you looked down at him as he rested on his knees, he laughed. “Happy, you look happy. When I first saw you, you looked really sad under it all, I don’t know, I know it’t not my place.”

“Stay?”

“What?”

“Stay the night, please?”

He sighed and handed you a dry towel after he was finished wiping you clean. “I can’t, Y/N, not yet. But it’ll happen, I promise you.” 

He wanted to, he really did. To wake up and see you sleeping so peacefully? Unbothered by everything around you and just pure bliss, it was a hell of a thought, but not yet. You looked disappointed, like you had been kicked while you were down, so he leaned forward between your legs and reached up to lean his forehead against yours.

“Come on, you gotta get to bed,” he said softly as he pulled you to your feet. You cleaned yourself and got back into your pajamas, and it was almost instant that the moment you slid into bed, you had slowly nodded off, your hand still gripping his tightly. 

He sat there in just his mask and his boxer briefs holding your hand until he was able to slip out quietly, leaving a smile on your face when he bent down to kiss you one more time before he did.  

Tag List: 

@chipster-21 

@juniebugg​

@stinkytootsies  ​

[loveisalwaystheanswer]

Music Tag Game 🎶

Rules Music taste is a very telling thing. Create a new post and name 1-5 your favourite songs in each category. Don't be afraid to be too obvious! Tag users you want to get to know better. Don't forget to have fun :)

Last songs you listened to: Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad - Def Leppard, The Funny Feeling - Phoebe Bridgers, Cathy Come Home - Flyte, Friday I'm In Love - The Cure

Best songs from your favourite TV show/movie: oh gosh, I put Peaky Blinders Soundtrack on a pedestal, so I'll have to narrow my choice to 3 songs: All My Tears - Ane Brun, Strange Weather - Anna Calvi, David Byrne, Abattoir Blues - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds and all the other songs that remain unnamed xD

Favourite songs about love (happy or not): Lover - Taylor Swift ft. Shawn Mendes, I Can't Help Falling In Love With You - Elvis Presley, Heart Like Yours - Willamette Stone, This - Ed Sheeran and much much more

Songs that could be the soundtrack to your life: Alibi - 30 Seconds to Mars

Songs that always make you want to dance: Let's Dance - David Bowie, Real Love Baby - Father John Misty, Hips Don't Lie - Shakira (yes, guilty)

Songs that always make you want to cry: I'm Ok - Christina Aguilera, Run - Snow Patrol, Dark Paradise - Lana Del Rey

Songs with the best lyrics: The Animals Were Gone / Accidental Babies - Damien Rice (he's very eloquent about love and pain, no wonder cos' he's Irish), My Tears Ricochet / The Lakes - Taylor Swift, I guess I can just write these two names. Amazing songwriters.

Songs you want to listen to when you're alone in the car: Girlfriend (Dr. Luke Mix) - Avril Lavigne ft. Lil Mama, I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor. And it doesn't even matter I don't have a car!

Songs that bring you back to yourself when your life is a mess: Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye, Tammi Terrell and almost any Taylor Swift's song

Favourite instrumental songs: Spiegel im Spiegel (Version for Violin and Piano) - Vladimir Spivakov & Sergej Bezrodny, Rise - Hans Zimmer, New Moon - Alexandre Desplat, Una Mattina - Ludovico Einaudi, Arrival Of The Birds - The Cinematic Orchestra

Songs that make you feel like you're invincible and very cool: Lose Yourself - Eminem (yes!), Woman - Harry Styles, but I think I just need to be happy to feel myself invincible

Guilty pleasure songs you're embarrassed to admit that you like: I'm too old to care about stuff like that, but let's say Famous - Kanye West

Songs that can describe your current mood: Vienna - Billy Joel or People Help The People - Birdy

If you wanted to be serenaded, what songs would you prefer: Love of My Life - Queen, Fly Me To The Moon - Frank Sinatra. God help that guy if he doesn't have an ear for music.

Songs you'd recommend everybody to listen to (you can explain why if you want):

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine (because Florence's voice is so ethereal, magical and she can make you feel like you're flying)

Hey Jude - The Beatles (no further explanation)

Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen (this is a very interesting and unusual song to listen to, something out of any genre. A pure masterpiece)

Butterflies and Hurricanes - Muse (I can literally name any of their songs and I won't miss, just like with Radiohead)

Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish (for those who love beautiful vocal. Billie's soft vibrato and the second part is a powerful crescendo)

tagging: @runnning-outof-time @zablife @aranoburns @i-just-look-at-pictures @jonathancraneswife444 @filmonaut @notyourriddler @tommyxgrace-always @carlfranzen @sassyrebelrockerprincess @l1-l4 @shelundeadxxxx @doraviolet @peakysgrace @grace-werethesame @peakyv @rousie @achurni @twvstedsouls @moral-terpitude and @springsteens @violaobanion (hello, my tumblr superstars, i just live in hope :)) and anyone else who wants to do it. No obligation, go to it if you’re keen! 

[perfectionreached]

she can’t figure out if this still would have gone down this way if they hadn’t been stuck in the woods. their relationship was so new when the plane had gone down - taissa hadn’t even been sure if it was going to be more than a fling. but being isolated from the confines of modern society had made them closer. now that they were back - it was like reality was closing in on taissa. in a way, she doesn't understand how van can deal with it. they were more carefree. more fun in many ways. but taissa couldn't get over the feeling that she had to remove herself from anything that could connect her back to her trauma.

she loves van. with all of her heart. she knew deep down she always would. but it was like there was a part of her, a more rational part, that knew that it wouldn't last forever. taissa and van would both be in pain now but then years down the line .. they'd be happier because of this. things would be behind them. it wasn't like taissa believed that she deserved some great love story anyways. she'd find a way to hurt them. even if the sleepwalking had stopped. there was always going to be that monster inside of her, she just had to accept it.

taissa wanted nothing more than to wipe away their tears. but she knows she doesn't have the right to comfort them. not anymore. not when she was telling van that everything they'd worked towards the past two years was over. "am i giving up? tell me. everything that happened out there, you don't want to get away from it? move on? you're going to stand here and say that you're fine. you're doing fine. we're doing fine. we're coping?!" she can tell her voice is getting louder, making a conscious effort to tone it down with a small sigh. "you are enough for me. the issue isn't you ...."

" .. and don't you dare say that we can do it because shauna and jeff did. do we really want to be those people? who stay together because of obligation and trauma?" truthfully, behind all the words and her actions, she knew she was scared. scared most of all that she was ruining her own life. but there was no taking it back now. her own eyes are watering, unable to keep a strong façade up anymore. "i thought we'd die out there. and we didn't. i'm so sorry, van." as always, her life moves on. it had to. if she wasn't running from any actual feelings, she wouldn't be alive.

When the dust would clear and settle around them, deep down they knew that they would agree with Taissa. Knew that in this moment she was being the reasonable one, the one trying to drag them into reality. One that meant they were apart, that the last two years would be past tense moving forward with their life. The dust hadn't settled nor cleared so despite already knowing she was right, they dug their heels in further. Just wished it had been solid ground and not the quicksand from movies beginning to swallow their feet and working its way up inch by inch.

Quickly swiping at their face to rid of it the tears that continued to fall, they sniffled and stared at the other. Chin quivered more as she watched Tai move closer, every inch of her being wanted to drop to their knees and take comfort in her. They couldn't though, they couldn't find comfort in the one person who had been a constant fixture in their life anymore. Because it wouldn't help the pain nor the sadness and it certainly would ease the anger that was slowly evaporating. "I did and do know this but I...I thought I would be enough for you."

Never would they ask Taissa to pick them over the future she had planned out and had planned out prior to the crash. But they had at least thought they would be enough to be included in that plan. That Tai would find a balance and they could make it work. Maybe it was foolish wishing and hoping that had convinced them of that or maybe, simply, it was young love and not knowing what they were going to do with their own future. It was something they hadn't planned for because they weren't certain of anything except for Taissa. And that was on them.

Being home, however, the harsh light of day that was normalcy, they both were made to relive what happened out there. It was the first thing they saw when they woke up and the last thing they saw when they went to bed. The scars that took up most of the redheads face was a harsh reminder of what happened out there more so than the memories. And deep down they had feared that it would become a problem, that she wouldn't be able to look at Van anymore because all she would be reminded of was death. Her hand, for a brief second, makes a move to raise and touch her cheek, but she refrains from doing such. The lines were rough and ugly and god they knew it.

Instead Van focuses on the others words, tears still welling up in their eyes as they continue to stare at her. Knowing that this could be the last time they see Tai, they wanted to make sure they would remember every line and curve of her face, the roundness of cheeks and lips. It would be torture to remember her, but at least they would remember her. Her questions, however, cause eyes to tear away and stare at the floor for a moment in thought. She wanted to answer right away and say yes, that they would survive that much distance between one another, but they weren't sure. Had been dreading to find that out, but they would have willing put themself through that to find out if their relationship with Tai was strong enough.

"Maybe," they finally whisper, once more wiping at their face, fingers briefly brushing over rigid lines before falling to their side. "Won't know 'cause you've already decided that we won't. Shit's not supposed to be easy, Tai, we both know that," they continued, eyes returning to look at her, "you may think you're doing what's best for us, hell maybe you are, but I know I was always willing to fight for us. No matter what...and you...shit you're just throwing in the towel and giving up."

[lemonluvgirl]

I feel like you are a legend in the THG fanfic community. I’ve started posting recently, but do you have any tips for writing fan fiction in this fandom? <3

Wait, I'm legendary?

When did this happen???? 😳 Did I miss a memo or something?

Lol I barely started writing fanfiction 2 years ago 😅 so I guess I don't feel qualified to be called legendary! But hey, thank you so much for the compliment!

Hopefully none of the OG thg fanfic authors will be offended, I just imagine people like:

But on a more serious note, you said you wanted advice for writing in the Fandom. Even though I'm still relatively new to this, I will try my best to give you the advice I would have liked to receive when I started writing and engaging with the Fandom community.

1. Write for yourself: Seriously. Don't write the majority of your stuff so you can get kudos and likes. Write what makes you happy, and invest time in writing stories you enjoy and love. Because at the end of the day social media and statistics are fickle and don't often accurately reflect the impact your writing can have on the world at large.

I learned this the hard way. It was an uncomfortable lesson, but suffice to say that these days I am definitely more focused on the stories that inspire me everyday, the ones that live rent free in my head and are just begging to be put down on paper, or typed out on my keyboard. And I am loads happier because of that choice.

2. You do not have to answer every prompt or ask that finds its way into your inbox. It's OK to leave some things on the backburner and focus on your priorities. Fanfiction is a hobby and most people aren’t getting paid for doing it. (Almost no one I know or have heard of) I personally try to answer all my asks, even if only to say I'm not interested in writing the story the reader is requesting. But I've also just flat out deleted some rude or offensive asks before. I do not obligate myself to respond to rude anons or their questions.

3. It's OK to take breaks from writing. For your mental health, for your well being, and also when you just don't have the time or energy to churn out a chapter every weekend. Again, fanfiction is a free gift, not an obligation. Don't get sucked into the pressure to perform or feel guilty if real life circumstances make it hard or impossible to write.

4. Don't delete your old/first fics. The better you get at writing the more you will be tempted to do this, but trust me, there will be people who love your early stuff, grammar errors and all. Don't deny them the privilege of reading your first story. Even if it is tropey or whatever. Let it stand as a testament to how much you've grown and how much you love this universe. The Fandom will love you for your authenticity and realness.

5. Take chances. Write that dark or slightly weird fic. Write that PWP smut fic. Publish your spotify inspiration playlist. Send your fave author a chat or inbox question. Make connections, laugh at the weirdness or mundane aspects of your hyperfixations. Write 10 stories about the one bed trope. Write 100 enemies to lovers fics. Just do whatever makes you happy and allows you to be creative. Make friends and reach out to your fellow writers. Literally 99% of people I've met in the Fandom are freaking awesome and I do not regret any of the connections I've made in the 2 years since I joined.

6. Just have fun. Real life is full of so much negativity and hardships, and fanfiction should be about enjoying the journey of the characters and the story. All of this is literally just for fun. Publishing on Ao3 or FFN or here on Tumblr, is simply for enjoyment, its not a job or a career. So enjoy it! 😉 Make memes and gifs and chapter covers and mood boards. Write drabbles and weird snippets of dialogue. Let it all out, and say what you want to say. Somewhere out there, there is a reader who will fall in love with your words if you just have the courage to set them free.