#in my head they all get together in the end but it's a very bumpy road

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Imagine you kiss the girl of your dreams and she reacts like that 😭 anyway I've been thinking a lot about. Nhnmgmh amphibia role swap AU and the unrequited sashannarcy love wheel.

The love wheel in question:

[decembermidnight]

Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3 - Read Part 2 here!

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him. 

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again. 

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.  

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen. 

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus. 

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate. 

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.”  You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected.  The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his. 

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on. 

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man. 

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most. 

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you. 

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close. 

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants. 

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body. 

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear. 

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina." 

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him. 

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock. 

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure. 

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels. 

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that. 

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts. 

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine." 

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan. 

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[firewasabeast]

The Gables

Part 3 of my meeting the parents series. one more to go! all can be read individually, but they're better together. Start from the beginning here. Read part 3 below, or on ao3. tags are all on ao3.

It was about a three hour drive to Tommy's parents place in Hanford. It was south of Fresno, which Buck had been to a few times over the years, but he'd never paid attention to Hanford.

“It's relatively small,” Tommy had told him. “Most people don't notice it.”

It had been a week since Tommy had gotten the call from his mom. It was short, just under five minutes. If Buck was honest, not much was even said during those minutes, but when Tommy hung up he took a deep breath and asked Evan if he'd like to go for a day visit.

“I haven't been home in a year,” he'd said, “and mom needs help with a couple things.”

Tommy almost looked like he was about to be sick. His skin paled and there seemed to be a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Against everything screaming in his mind, Buck didn't ask questions right then. He simply responded with a yes, that he'd be happy to come along, and left it at that.

Tommy didn't talk about his parents often. He'd mentioned that his dad was a lot like Gerrard, said his mom wasn't really the hugging type, but hadn't really divulged anything beyond that.

Buck could get him to open up about nearly everything in his life, even the uncomfortable stuff from his past that he still beat himself up over on occasion, but when it came to his parents and the life he had with them... there was a whole lot of nothing.

“Anything I should know before we get there?” Buck asked. He'd asked the question a couple of times over the past week, always getting the same answer.

“Uh, no. No, I don't think so.”

“Come on, Tommy, I gave you an entire presentation on the Buckley's before you met my parents. It's good to be prepared.”

Tommy let out an exasperated sigh. “I'm not sure there's a way to be prepared for the Kinard's, Evan. You can't really predict them.”

“Okay, so unpredictable. See, I can work with that.”

Buck's earnestness elicited a smile from Tommy. It was a good sight to see, seeing as he'd been pretty tense since they went to bed last night. He reached over and took Evan's hand, resting them over the center console. “I'm not trying to make it hard on you,” he said, “I promise. I just... I don't really know them all that well either. They're hard to describe. It's been a year, and the last time I was home it ended in my dad getting nearly blackout drunk and my mom throwing a frying pan at his head. She missed,” he reassured Evan, who was not very reassured, “but still, she tried. It was weird though, because the time before that, they were “so in love” and “couldn't be without each other”, which I had also never seen growing up. That's, you know, what I mean by unpredictable.”

Buck nodded, feeling a bit in over his head. “I see.”

“You'll be fine though,” he said, giving Buck's hand a squeeze. “It'll... It'll be fine.”

Buck wondered if Tommy knew just how unsure he sounded right now. It made the knots in Buck's stomach get even tighter.

*****

They drove for a little while after getting off the highway, turned down random street after street until Tommy turned into a neighborhood with a broken gate. 'The Gables Trailer Park' a sign read. The further they drove into The Gables, the more potholes filled the road, causing a fairly bumpy ride.

Trailers were spread out along the open, flat terrain. Some had grass around their homes, others dirt and rocks.

“Is this where you grew up?” Buck asked. He wasn't sure if he was headed to Tommy's childhood home, or a place his parents had moved after he left.

“Yeah, from about eight up. Before that we lived in an apartment in Fresno, but my dad's dad lived here. When he died, he left the place to dad, and it was cheaper than the apartment so we moved.”

They drove for about half a mile until Tommy pulled off the road in front of a trailer. It was an ivory color with brown trim. Looked like it hadn't been painted in quite a few years. There were panels covering parts of the lower half of the trailer, but gaps made it so you could still see underneath. This particular trailer wasn't set on grass, but on what was currently some muddy dirt thanks to the surprise rain storm they'd had the night before.

There was a blue tarp over part of the roof. A sign on the right side of the door informed that trespassers would be shot, while a sign on the left side told them to beware of dog.

“They don't have a dog,” Tommy said, apparently reading Buck's mind. “And dad had to give up his guns like five years ago. Ready?”

Tommy opened his door and got out before Buck had the chance to ask the nearly fifty questions that were popping into his mind. First on the list was asking why his dad had to give up his guns? He'd have to remember that question for later.

He took a deep breath and got out of the truck, straightening out his jacket before he shut the door behind him.

Tommy waited for Buck at the front of the truck, holding out his hand as Buck stepped closer to him. “It'll be fine,” Tommy said, pulling Buck close. “Just remember, no matter what, we're leaving by five.”

When they got to the front door, Tommy knocked twice, then let go of Buck's hand while they waited.

“Sometimes they don't hear the first knock,” he said after a few seconds, then knocked again.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” A woman yelled, swinging the door open. “I'm old, you gotta give me more time.”

“Hi, Mom,” Tommy greeted. Her eyes moved quickly from him to Buck, who gave her a smile.

“You brought someone.” She sounded unimpressed.

“This is Evan Buckley, Mom. He goes by Buck. Evan, this is my mom, Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kinard.” Buck held his hand out for a shake. She hesitated, wiped her hand off with the hand towel she was holding, then shook.

“Buck,” she replied simply.

She was a small woman, no more than 5'2. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun, and she didn't seem to wear makeup the way Buck's mom did. She wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans, socks but no shoes, and no smile anywhere in sight.

“Well, come in,” she said, waving the hand towel in their direction. “Don't want the flies coming in.”

The second Buck walked in his nose began to burn. The place reeked of cigarettes, with a faint scent of beer that lingered in the air.

“I got a list of things I need you to do while you're here today,” she said, shutting the door behind them. “Your friend can help if you need him to. Go say hello to your dad while I get the list from the kitchen.”

The living room was to the right, and when Buck looked over he could see a man sitting in a recliner, facing away from them, watching TV.

Tommy sucked in a deep breath before heading over to him, Buck following a couple steps behind.

“Dad,” he started.

His dad turned away from the TV long enough to give both he and Buck a glance, then turned back. “Didn't know we'd have company today.”

“Mom didn't tell you I was coming?”

“She told me you were coming.”

Tommy rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck. Buck wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, hold his hand, stroke his back, press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder. He knew none of those things were good options at the moment.

“Right. Um, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, this is Frank.”

“Hello, Mr. Kinard. Nice to meet you.” He didn't try to shake his hand. Frank was too focused on whatever show he was watching.

“Mm,” he grunted. “Tommy, get me another beer while you're up.”

Tommy brought his hand to Buck's elbow, “You can sit if you want,” he said quietly. “I'll be right back.”

Buck nodded, walked over to the couch and sat.

He looked around, taking the place in. Almost everything inside looked like it came out of the 80's. A floral sofa, grayed in the places it used to be white. A brown recliner that Frank sat in. The TV had an antenna, and there was an old stereo in the corner. None of the furniture matched, and magazines and newspapers sat on top of most of the flat surfaces.

Buck spared an extra look or two at Frank, trying to find any resemblance between him and Tommy. He couldn't.

Frank had leathery skin, with salt and pepper hair. His wasn't curly the way Tommy's was when he didn't have any product in it. There were no laughter lines on his face, which was on Buck's favorite things about Tommy. He wore a white shirt that fit tight over his beer belly, and stretchy shorts with bleach stains. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his short beard came in patchy. He seemed tall, but not quite 6'2.

The sound of Frank's voice brought Buck out of his thoughts.

“I'm sorry, Sir, what was that?” he asked, noticing that Frank was looking in his direction.

Buck had gone over a list of potential questions in his head, and the way he'd answer them.

“We met on a rescue mission. We've been together nearly a year now. I moved in just after Christmas. I know some would think it's too fast, but when you know you know. You've raised a great man.”

There was not a single part of him that ever anticipated the question he got instead.

“So, which one's the boy and which one's the girl?”

Buck stared at him, dumbfounded. “I- um, there's-”

“Don't know how many times I gotta say it, Dad,” Tommy said, walking back into the room with a beer in hand, “there is no girl. That'd kinda ruin the whole being gay thing for me.”

Frank grabbed the beer from Tommy, leaned over and popped the cap off on the side table. “Sure would make it a lot better for me.”

Tommy went to open his mouth, but Alice cut him off. “Come get the list!” she called from the kitchen. “Need to get started so you're done by this evening.”

*****

They didn't talk about Frank or Alice while Buck helped Tommy fix the bathroom sink. He just handed him the tools whenever Tommy asked.

Nothing was mentioned while they changed lightbulbs, or rehung a picture in the main bedroom, or moved a piece of furniture out of the house and onto the side of the road for trash pickup. They both stayed relatively silent until they headed into the spare bedroom for Tommy to fix the fan.

“Was this your room?” Buck asked, looking around for signs of young Tommy.

There didn't seem to be any.

“It was,” Tommy replied.

There was an old bed in the room with a brown and yellow quilt on top. An oak dresser in the corner with newspapers poking out of the drawers. The closet door was ajar, the inside so filled with boxes that it couldn't shut all the way. The paint was chipping from the walls, and there was a dampness in the air from a window that was left open about an inch.

“Is anything in here yours?” Buck asked as Tommy stood on the bed to get started on the fan.

“Um,” he glanced around, spotting a cowboy hat on a chair in the corner. “That hat was mine,” he said. “I used to pretend I was a cowboy when I was little.”

Buck smiled at the thought. He went over and picked up the hat. He tried to imagine a little Tommy running around, faking a country accent with a worn red and black cowboy hat.

“I need to get you one of these for home,” Buck said. “Maybe some boots, a western shirt, chaps.”

“Oh God,” Tommy shuddered. “That sounds like quite possibly the worst role-play of all time.”

Buck tilted his head, eying Tommy up and down, imagining. “I don't know, sounds pretty good to me.”

“I can't even see you right now, but I know you're looking at me like that, and it's making it very difficult for me to concentrate.”

Buck laughed. “Okay, okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to stand there and look pretty, but not too pretty.”

“So, you don't really need my help?”

Tommy stopped messing with the fan to smile down at him. “I always need your help, Evan.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “That's a no then. I think I'll go see if your mom needs any help.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He patted Tommy's shin before heading for the door. “I'm sure I'll survive, Cowboy,” he said, earning a snort from Tommy.

*****

While Tommy continued with the fan, Buck made his way toward the kitchen where Alice was fixing a late lunch.

“Mrs. Kinard, is there anything I can help you with?”

She sighed, like he was disturbing her peace. “You know how to chop lettuce?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

She grabbed a head of iceberg lettuce and plopped it down on the kitchen table with a knife and a bowl. “Frank doesn't know how to do anything in the kitchen,” she said, motioning for him to sit and get to it. “At least he pretends he doesn't. Been pretending for forty-eight years.”

“You two have been together a long time. You're lucky.”

She snorted. “Don't know if I'd say that. But, we're lifers.”

Buck chopped the lettuce carefully, as though he were going to get graded on his ability. He wanted it to look perfect.

“Can I ask you a question about Tommy?” Buck asked.

“You can try,” she replied. “Not sure I'll be able to answer.”

“I was just wondering what he was like as a kid? He's only has a couple pictures of himself when he was young, but most are from his time in the army.”

“I'm sure I've got some laying around here somewhere,” Alice answered, grabbing up some more vegetables and sitting down across from Buck. She eyed his lettuce for a moment, then set a couple tomatoes in front of him.

It felt like getting an A+ on a report card.

“Tommy was a busy kid. Always running around, getting into trouble. Never really told me much about what he was doing, but when he got caught... Well, it would've been better if he hadn't.”

Buck wanted to ask what she meant, but a part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He didn't have to wonder long, Alice continuing as she chopped an onion.

“He stole fireworks from a shop when he was twelve, set them off in the woods outback. Nearly started a forest fire.” She shook her head. “Kid couldn't sit right for a week after Frank was done with him.”

Buck wasn't sure what to say to that, so he opted to move past it completely. “What about when he got older?”

“He was real quiet in high school. Didn't make friends easily. Smart though. Graduated early, but then he got bored. Running around here and there, no steady job, nothing. That's when Frank drove him to the recruiters office in Fresno. Told him he either signed up or pitched him a tent on the street somewhere. He left for basic a couple months before his eighteenth birthday.”

“He was only seventeen?” Buck asked, wide eyed. In all his army stories, Tommy had never mentioned the fact he was seventeen when he joined, and Buck himself had never thought of it as a possibility. He knew he was young, but the idea that Tommy couldn't even vote when he started his career in the military was especially baffling.

“Yup. Frank said it'd be the best thing for him. He was probably right.”

“H- He must've been scared,” Buck said quietly, mostly to himself, but Alice heard.

“Being scared's a part of life,” she replied coldly. “You overcome it, get better for it.” She gathered the onion she had been slicing and took it over to the stove, tossing them into a pan.

There was about a minute of silence before she spoke again. “You really like him, don't you?”

Buck looked up to see her watching him, probably noticing the fact that he still looked worried over everything he'd heard about young Tommy.

He was surprised by the question, but didn't hesitate in his answer. “Yes, Ma'am, I do.”

“Mm.” She turned back to her pan. “That's good, I guess. He's been alone a long time. Needs somebody.”

*****

When it came time for lunch, Buck, Tommy, and Alice ate in the kitchen while Frank opted to stay in the living room. It was a rather quiet lunch, except for when Buck complimented Alice's cooking. She sat up straighter at that, and went into a story about finding ten cookbooks on the side of the road a few weeks before she married Frank. She took them all and spent those weeks teaching herself how to follow along to with the recipes.

The conversation lasted all of five minutes, but it was better than five more minutes spent in awkward silence.

It was almost three by the time lunch was over, but the only way Buck knew that was because Tommy kept glancing at the clock on the wall. He knew what he was doing, checking to see when it was time for them to leave. He knew Tommy couldn't wait to get out of there, and Buck couldn't really blame him.

Tommy excused himself to the restroom as they began to clean up from lunch.

Alice went to go get Frank's dish, but Buck stopped her.

“I'll get it,” he offered innocently.

He didn't see her open her mouth to stop him, already making his way to Frank.

“Can I get you another beer, Mr. Kinard?” Buck asked, picking up the plate from the side table.

Instead of answering, Frank turned his head from the TV to look at Buck, staring him up and down. “Perfect waitress you are,” he grunted out. “I suppose you'll make a good woman for my boy.”

And maybe it was the long drive, or the fact he had no idea what he was walking into when he agreed to come along for this day trip, or the fact he'd been quiet about so many god-awful things that he'd heard, but Buck was at the end of his “just stay silent” rope.

He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“There's roles in every relationship,” Frank explained poorly. “I worried about my son for a while, but it's good to know he's still the man.”

“Did you not hear him earlier? When he told you there was no woman in our relationship? He seemed pretty clear about that.”

“Eh,” Frank waved him off. “There's a natural order to things. You'll see it soon enough.”

The second Tommy walked out of the bathroom and saw Buck staring down at Frank with a look of pure disgust, he knew something was wrong.

“What did you say, Dad?” he asked.

Buck looked up at him, his expression changing. “Doesn't matter,” he said.

“I said he'll make a good woman for you,” Frank repeated confidently. “He's your little sidekick, helps your mom cook, cleans the kitchen, picks up after the men. May not look the part, but he's close enough.”

There was a look in Tommy's eyes that Buck had never seen before. It was beyond terrifying.

Buck tried to smooth it over. “Tommy, it's-”

“I have spent,” Tommy spoke slowly, staring daggers into his dad, “this entire damn day fixing things that you're just too lazy to fix your damn self. I invited Evan along thinking maybe you'd see how happy we are, maybe you'd notice what a good person he is, and how much better he makes me. I did not bring him here to be mistreated by you."

“See,” Frank smiled up at him. His smile didn't reach the eyes the way Tommy's did. “You're saving your damsel.”

“Evan doesn't need saving. He's perfectly capable of standing up for himself, he's just been too nice to do it because, unlike you, he's not an asshole.”

Frank pointed at Tommy, still not bothering to get out of his chair. “You watch yourself,” he warned. “I was polite enough to let two fairies in my house today. I deserve some respect.”

Buck could see the white, blinding rage taking over Tommy. It took Buck about two seconds to move around and step in front of him, stopping Tommy from advancing on his dad. “Don't,” he said, pressing his hand against Tommy's chest. Tommy's eyes moved from Frank to Evan. Buck could feel his heart pounding. “It's not worth it,” Buck continued. “Let's just go, okay?”

Tommy pursed his lips together, but nodded. “Yeah, I- let's go.”

Thankfully, Frank kept his mouth shut as Buck placed a hand on Tommy's back and led them to the door.

“Wait a minute!” Alice demanded rather loudly.

“Mom-”

“You can sit in your truck,” she clarified, “but wait there. I'll just be a minute.”

Buck was going to offer to drive, but the second they got outside Tommy made a beeline for the driver's seat.

Once the car had been started and they were settled into their seats, Buck took a deep breath. “Tommy-”

“I can't right now, Evan,” Tommy interrupted. He was on edge, hands shaking, leg bouncing up and down as they waited for Alice to come out. “I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“That's fine,” Buck replied. He meant it. He understood what it meant to feel overwhelmed. When you needed a second with your own thoughts to process what just happened.

Buck rolled down the window when Alice came walking out with something in her hands.

Through the window she handed Buck a very old, very worn photo album. “Not sure what all's in there, but I'm sure a few of the pictures have Tommy,” she said. “I haven't looked through it in years. Not like I need it anymore.”

Buck ignored the pain in his heart at her words. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Mhm.” She looked past him to Tommy. “I'll call you if the fan stops working again. May need you to come back. Probably best you come alone next time.”

Tommy nodded. He cleared his throat, managed a broken, “Yeah, Mom, okay,” before they drove off.

[lurkingshan]

Love Sea Final Thoughts

I have been trying to wrap my head around my overall feelings about Love Sea, a show that is undeniably flawed but somehow charming anyway, that drops so many threads but does such a good job with a few of its core points that it's hard to be mad. I can't really say that this is a great drama, but I can say that I enjoyed it a lot and I think it's a good watch if you go in understanding some caveats.

Let's start with a few things I really loved about this show:

Mahasamut. A great character, he will be going on my shortlist of Thai bl favorites. He's smart, honest, patient, giving and forgiving but he also knows himself, his limits, and his worth. On top of all that, he actually looks like a normal person, with a healthy body weight and beautiful imperfect skin. So rare in dramas.

Smart class dynamics. I appreciated how much this show grounded Mut and Rak's relationship in their class disparity, how wealth and lack of same was a constant issue between them that was never forgotten, and how its effect on their power dynamic shifted over time as their relationship grew.

Very well-executed sex scenes. The sex in this show is tied to character development and relationship arcs, and every sex scene mattered to the story. We watched the shifting power dynamics between Mut and Rak play out via the sex they had together and by watching their intimacy we learned more about them.

Ridiculous chemistry. The main love story was supported by truly excellent emotional and sexual chemistry. I always believed in the attraction and the feelings between these two, and that helped a lot when the story didn't quite take me where it needed to.

Rak and Vie's friendship. I really loved that we spent time with these two as besties, and that they were genuinely so supportive of each other. Vie was a real MVP in kicking Rak's ass when he needed it.

Meena, the best child ever. What a delightful character who brought a lot of fun and lightness to the story. Her scenes with Mut were a true highlight.

And here are some things that didn't quite work for me:

Uneven focus for the main characters. Once we left the island to go to Bangkok, the entire show was about Rak, his backstory, his issues, his ongoing problems, and his needs, and Mut was kind of subsumed in his story instead of having one of his own. I was glad we got back to Mut's life at the end, but they really should have kept it present throughout so everything didn't feel so one-sided.

Shallow engagement with family trauma. And despite the fact that the story was so much about Rak's issues, the story never actually went deep on them. I still don't really understand a lot about his family dynamics. The show used his dad and cousin as villains and then his mom as an easy out to solve everything at the end, but we never dug into how all these people ended up this way in the first place. It was a real missed opportunity.

Rak's emotional journey. I was on board for much of it, but other parts felt a bit haphazard and all over the place. Sometimes it felt like he was suddenly progressing out of nowhere, and others it felt like he was backsliding just because the plot demanded it. I liked where the story took him a lot but the path to get there was pretty bumpy.

The side couple. WOOF. I have no idea what happened here, but that was a fail on just about every front. Mook was a hard character to love from the start, Vie felt like a completely different person with Mook than in all her other scenes, there was so much lying and manipulation for no good reason, and in the end they were left completely unresolved. If you are on the lookout for great gl pairings, you will not find that here.

So there you have it. This show is absolutely a mixed bag on its execution, so how much you end up liking it will probably depend on how strongly you connect with what it did well and where it dropped the ball. For me, it was a good experience and one I'll remember fondly. I'll definitely be watching the special when it's released and I hope to see this cast again.

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 3

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Word count: 3322

Disclaimer: This is based on the side quest "Geology for Beginners" so the reader is from the future and aware of some things that happen, but not everything. The reader will also have she/her pronouns and this fanfiction follows the story of RDR2. Also English is not my first language so pls forgive me for any grammatical mistakes!

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)

Two weeks have passed since you set up camp at Horseshoe Overlook. Two weeks of absolutely nothing happening. Before this there was a risk of dying from either starvation or hypothermia, but now it feels like you could fall over dead from boredom.

At least you have grown closer to the other women in the gang during that time. You, Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth are currently sitting grouped up together and chatting away.

That is when Karen motions towards Arthur and Uncle and you all turn your head to get a better look at the two men.

"Does it look like they're leaving camp?", Tilly asks and Karen nods as she jumps to her feet.

"Come on, girls. Let's convince them to take us with them to town.", she suggests and you all make your way over.

You look over your shoulders to make sure Miss Grimshaw isn't noticing your attempt to escape. Otherwise she'd come up with thousands of tasks to do around camp to prevent you from leaving while giving you an earful. She's an intimidating woman.

"Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?", Arthur asks, his voice laced with curiosity and Karen let's out a huff.

"Can Miss Grimshaw spare us? What happened to you, Arthur? You got four healthy women here, askin' you to take them out to town and you're worried 'bout chores?"

The outlaw studies you and the other women before he shakes his head with an amused half-smirk.

"Alright. Hop on then."

With a delighted cheer, you all make yourselves comfortable on the back of the wagon. The way out of the forest is shaky and bumpy and you have to hold on to the edge of the bench you're sitting to not fall over and make a fool of yourself.

"Ladies, why don't you sing something for us?", Uncle suggests and the others seem to be more than on board with the idea.

It's a catchy song, one you've never heard before, but you must admit that the singing definitely has some space for improvement. You're pretty sure that every single person in the area and their grandma could hear you approach.

At least the spirits are high and the mood is lighter than you've ever witnessed it. All the laughing and grinning from the others is contagious and you even try to sing along a bit. After countless times of you messing up the lyrics, you eventually decide to give it a rest.

A loud crash rips your group out of their happy bubble and Arthur halts the wagon infront of a coach that's parked on the side of the dirt road. Well, 'parked' is a generous way of putting it. It rather looks like a small disaster had struck it.

The driver is clearly struggling to keep one of the horses in check and it runs off to the other side of the train tracks.

"You should help him, Arthur.", Tilly suggests and he grumbles something to himself before hopping off to talk to the driver.

You and Arthur still have not spend enough time with each other to call yourselves friends, but you'd be a fool to not notice how gentle he treats the horses. They seem to flock to him like pigeons to bread crumbs whenever he's nearby.

Like now. You watch him calm down the escaped horse with just a few words before he leads it back by the reigns. It's fascinating to see how his rough facade melts away when he deals with animals as if he prefers their company over a person's.

"That was quite impressive, Arthur.", you say to him once he's back in the driver's seat and continues to drive.

"Ah, it was nothin'. The horse was just a bit spooked, is all."

Another thing you haven't failed to notice about him is the fact that he deflects every single compliment and praise people give him. Either he directs it at someone else or he plays it off as if it's nothing special he did.

Over the course of the last couple weeks you've found out a lot about his character. More through actions than words of course, but he seems to be the type that prefers to speak through gestures anyways.

Buildings appear in the distance and shortly after the chatter of a crowd fills the air. Finally, civilization. You begin to wonder how the town might look like. This is in the past after all and you've only seen a handful of pictures of how things used to look.

Once you get closer to Valentine you wrinkle your nose at the stench. It's a mix of shit from a variety of different animals and dried piss. That definitely dampens your excitement from earlier.

"Us girls will head into the saloon and see what we can find out about this place.", Karen says after everyone gets off. You're careful to not step into the spots where the mud looks softer, scared to end up ankle deep in the dirt.

Mary-Beth wraps her arm around yours and shoots you a wide smile.

"You can come with us."

An unsure chuckle escapes your throat and you wave your hand around in the air. The girls have told you before how they scam people (mainly men) and you're not certain if you're quite confident enough in yourself to be able to pull off that kind of stuff.

"Oh, I don't know.", you mumble and she gives your shoulder a playful slap.

"Don't worry about it. We'll teach ya how it's done and with a pretty face like yours, you'll have anyone wrapped around your finger in seconds.", she answers and her fingers give your arm a reassuring squeeze.

Since you're a member of a gang now, it wouldn't be too bad of an idea to learn how to play the part. People will expect you to contribute at some point so might as well start sooner than later.

As Mary-Beth drags you towards the saloon, you throw one last glance at Arthur and Uncle who disappear into a shop. For a town this size, the saloon turns out to be pretty packed.

"So how we usually do it is we find some drunk moron and empty his pockets. Sometimes they drop some good information too like a coach that can be robbed or somethin' like that.", Karen explains and you nod along.

So far it sounds simple, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it will be. You have never stolen anything from someone and the thought of doing it here is anxiety inducing considering that half of the  customers carry guns with them.

I shouldn't have left the revolver back in the camp.

Luckily the girls are kind enough to not only explain the job a bit further and give you advice, they also paid for your drink which is something you desperately need right now. The whisky burns as it slides down your throat and you feel it fuel your courage a bit.

Maybe this won't be too difficult. Majority of the men here look like they're about to pass out as they stand so it's highly likely they won't notice your hand slip into their coats and satchels. Nevertheless, you decide to stay at the table for now and build up some more confidence while the girls start to spread out and do their thing.

You take the opportunity to watch them a bit to see how it's done in practice. It doesn't take long for all three to find their targets and your eyes follow Tilly and Karen leaving the saloon with each a victim glued to to their side. Impressive. That was quick.

Mary-Beth on the other hand is leaned against the bar counter and giggling away at something one of the guys said. Her hand caresses his arm and you watch her skilfully reach into his pocket to pull out some dollar bills. It happened so fast that you almost missed it.

Perhaps they were right. This seems like child's play and you don't even have to pick out a poor soul, because one of them finds you first. A man stumbles over to your table and makes no effort to hide the way his eyes roam shamelessly over your figure. The look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin' 'ere all alone, huh?", he asks and the stench of alcohol hits you like a freight train.

You fight back a gag and force a smile on your lips. This guy is so drunk he probably doesn't even remember his own name at this point. A plan begins to form in your mind as you reach out towards his hand.

"I'm looking for some company.", you say with the sweetest voice you could muster up and a sickening grin spreads over his face.

That grin is going to haunt you in your nightmares, that's for sure.

"Company, eh? Why don't we go someplace quiet then, you pretty thing?"

Everything within you is screaming at you to keep as much distance from him as possible, but you ignore the voices in your head. Instead you slowly get up from your chair and let him place a hand on your lower back.

Too low for your taste, but you comfort yourself with the fact that this will take only a couple minutes. You'll rob him of his money and then take off as fast as possible.

As he leads you towards the back of the saloon, you have to force your legs to take each step forward. Every fiber in your body seems to be fighting against this, but you know you have to power through this. If you don't learn how to rob people now then you will only have problems later on.

You recall what Mary-Beth did at the bar and let your hands wander over the man's torso. The movements are slow and light to make him think you're just flirting and being a bit touchy.

Then you feel a change of texture and you slip your finger into one of the jacket pockets. There is paper. Dollar bills. Your heart makes a victory leap and you bite back the proud grin on your lips while you fish out the money.

And the best part of it all is that the man hasn't noticed a damn thing. Karen was right when she told you that drunk morons make easy targets.

Like stealing candy from a child.

Now that your work here is done you stop in your tracks right after you cut the corner behind the saloon. The man gives you a puzzled look.

"I just now remembered that I have some important errands to run." You quickly excuse yourself and turn on your heels to leave, but he stops you.

The iron grip his hand has on your wrist startles you and you try to pull away. Yes, he might be as drunk as they come, but he's strong. Fear takes ahold of you.

"And where do ya think you're goin'?", he asks in a threatening tone and his eyes darken.

With a forceful tug, you stumble forward into his arms and the foul stench emanating from him makes your stomach turn. No matter how hard you push him away, his arms keep you securely in place.

Now would be a perfect time to pull out your cattleman if you hadn't been so stupid to leave it behind. So you do the only thing that's left for you to do, which is to ram your knee between his legs and break free from his hold.

Just as you turn around to run off, he grabs you by your blouse and yanks you backwards. There's nothing that could help you prevent the fall and you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you make contact with the ground.

You feel a warm liquid spread in your mouth and the taste of iron lacing your tongue. A shadow falls over you and the man is menacingly towering above you. Anger is written all over his face as he drags you back to your feet.

He pulls back his arm and you close your eyes, preparing yourself for his fist to make contact with your face, but it never comes to that. You feel someone pulling you away and your eyelids flutter open.

You're being met with broad shoulders and a hand gently pushing you back. Arthur is standing infront of you with his hands balled up into fists and a murderous glare on his tanned face.

"Have you lost your damn mind, boy?"

The drunk man takes a few steps back and lifts his hands with an awkward chuckle.

"Listen, partner, we was just havin' some fun-"

"Fun? That's what you call it? Hurtin' and threatenin' a lady is fun to ya?", Arthur roars and closes the distance between him and the man with just two strides.

With both hands, he grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer. Since Arthur is taller (by a long shot) the other man is struggling to stay on his toes.

"If I ever catch you even touching another strand of hair on this woman's head, I will personally make sure that you'll never use your hands again. Have I made myself clear, partner?"

The drunk man only nods hastily and scurries off so fast as if the devil himself is chasing him. Arthur studies your face thoroughly when he turns around like he's searching for any injuries or bruises.

"You alright, miss?", he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, don't worry. At least I managed to steal something from him.", you answer and hold up the cash you stole from the man.

With only a nod for an answer, he lightly brushes your shoulder with his hand to indicate for you to start walking. The contact lasted only for a split second, but the warmth of his fingers still lingers on that spot.

"I'm sorry you had to step in.", you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk back to where the wagon is parked.

"Don't apologize. Tilly and Karen needed some rescuin' as well."

"But still." You look up at him. "Thank you by the way. I was really scared back there."

"I know. Just be more careful next time. You could start carryin' a knife around or somethin'."

Or maybe that revolver of mine. I brought it with me for this exact reason after all.

Once the wagon comes back in sight and the others catch a glimpse of you, the girls start waving with their arms.

"Are you okay?", Mary-Beth asks with concern edged on her soft features.

"Yes, just covered in dirt and probably horse shit.", you joke to lighten the mood, but then you notice a nasty bruise on Karen's face.

Your eyes go wide and you clasp your hand over your mouth with a gasp.

"Karen, you're hurt!"

The blonde woman waves it off in a casual manner as if she spilled some tea over her clothes instead of taking a punch to the face.

"You should see what Arthur did to the other guy.", she answers.

Just as you open your mouth to respond, a man wearing a checkered suit comes to a abrupt halt infront of your group.

"Hey, haven't I seen you in Blackwater?", the man exclaims with his eyes fixed on Arthur.

"Nah, I've never been there."

You see the others sharing weird looks and tensing up. This is bad. If this guy really recognizes Arthur and word spreads around...the gang could end up in some serious trouble.

"No, you were definitely there! I know you!"

Your eyes fall on Arthur who takes a few steps towards the man with the suit and he waves him over.

"Come here so we can talk for a second.", he suggest, but the man takes off right as he finishes the sentence.

Arthur mumbles a 'shit' before he orders Uncle to take you and the girls back to camp and jumps on a stranger's horse to pursue the stranger.

"Shouldn't we help him?", you ask with a worried expression, but the others shake their head.

"Arthur can handle this. We'd just get in the way.", answers Tilly. She's right. There isn't much you can do to help him and it's not like you know how to ride a horse anyways.

---

The setting sun is bathing the entire camp in a warm, orange light. It's a slow evening today. A soft tune, coming from Javier's guitar, is playing in the distance and the gang members are either resting at the fireplace or chatting casually with one another.

As you look around to take in the peaceful view, you hear the galloping of a horse approaching and you watch Arthur as he hitches his Tennessee Walker on one of the posts. He has been gone all day after you, Uncle and the girls made it home from Valentine.

As he comes closer to where you're sitting, you notice the dried dirt on his clothes and you raise an eyebrow.

"Did the Blackwater guy get you this dirty?", you ask him the moment he's in ear shot and he looks down at himself with a displeased expression.

"No, some of the boys got into a fight at the saloon."

The corners of your mouth curl up into a sly smirk. "So you decided to roll around in mud?"

Arthur rolls theatrically with his eyes, but you don't miss out on the amused gleam in them. "Very funny."

You grab a mug and fill it up with some coffee and hand it over to him. For a brief second your fingers brush as he takes it from your hand, mumbling a quick 'thank you' and you cough into your fist.

"But the Blackwater guy...did you catch him?", you ask him and he takes a long sip from the coffee.

"I sure did. Turns out he just mixed me up with someone else."

"Obviously." Your voice is oozing with sarcasm.

Arthur fishes something shiny out of his pocket and hands it over to you. "He even gave me this fancy pen as an apology."

"How very kind of him."

For a while the two of you just sit there in comfortable silence while Arthur enjoys his coffee.

"You sure you're doin' okay?" If you listen closely you can detect a slight hint of concern in his tone.

"Why do you ask?" You turn to face him completely now and he waves his hand around in the air.

"You know, with what happened in Valentine."

You let out a deep sigh as you return to continue observing the sunset. That has been a scary experience, yes. One that could have definitely ended very badly, but for some reason it hasn't hit you that hard. Not as much as the wolf attack at least.

"I think the fact that I actually managed to rob that scumbag is what makes me feel okay with it." With a lift of your chin, you motion towards the donation box next to Dutch's tent. "I gave some of the money to the camp."

"Good, good.", Arthur mumbles and stands up with a grunt.

He places his hands on his weapon belt and looks around. "Well, I'll better be goin' now. Thanks for the coffee again."

You shove your hand inside your pocket, playing with the money you stole earlier today. A strange sense of pride fills you as you recall the memory. Sure, it was a small feat compared to what the gang usually does and who knows what would have happened if Arthur hadn't stepped in in time, but still.

It feels good to contribute and you catch yourself wanting to do it again.

Taglist: @shackspossum

[alltheboysandgirlsiloved]

hi❤️! Could u pls give me ur thoughts on this? :

I was thinking abt the whole Yasmina coming out scene with Ben, and I can't stop seeing a subtext on this. Like, why choosing Ben between all the campers👀? And Is it "over reading" the context to say it looks like Ben knows more about coming out than he confess to Yasmina? 😅

I'm asking bc I'm afraid they'll make him straight, ngl. So I'm questioning, do u think we're really over reading on the context? bc no way fandom is the only one seeing queer subtext on this character 😭

I will answer this question in two ways so that everyone can choose their own adventure.

First of all, plot-wise Yaz coming out to Ben first just made sense! Their friendship has been steadily growing and once they overcame their initial hesitation, I think they just clicked as friends. They were different enough to be forced to learn how to understand each other from day one. Whether people agree or not, Ben is simultaneously very strong-minded and awkwardly delicate, very similar to Yaz. He will always speak his mind and at the same time, he is very accepting. I think that this is exactly the type of person Yaz needed back then - someone who would speak their opinion no matter what, would offer support and comfort But at the same time would not try to baby her. Does it make sense? I think that at that moment there was no one other than Ben who could have offered this kind of non-judgemental and honest support (also because most of the other characters were engaged in other drama!!).

It also makes sense considering their conversation in season 4 when Ben thought that Yaz had a crush on him. I mean, it couldn't get any more awkward than this, right? As silly as it sounds, in the end, it probably helped them solidify their friendship on an emotional level. At least, that's how I've always seen that.

Plus! Let's remember that Ben was the last to find out about Brooklynn and Kenji getting together! So, I guess it was fair for him to learn about Yaz's feelings for Sammy first, haha!

Okay, so that was canon, now it's time for my off-screen rambling.

I said it before and I'll say it again: jwcc Ben is absolutely queer-coded. Has been since season 1 and it has nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with the way he interacts with the world and people around him. Sometimes he is cautious, sometimes he is bold; he bites and curls in himself, he is hesitant but hot-headed; the world is a hostile place that requires taming. He likes the safety of his own shell, but once he peeks out of it - he makes the way for himself on his own terms.

I also believe that Ben was initially written as queer-coded, even if he was never meant to end up in a queer relationship (again - speaking about jwcc only). It would also kind of explain Darius and Sammy's reaction in jwct - their surprise when they learned that Ben has a girlfriend. jwcc Ben was queer-coded, his queerness was never commented upon, but it existed nonetheless. You don't have to come out to be queer, and you don't have to come out for others to be vaguely aware of your queerness. If you're any familiar with older tv shows, in which openly queer characters were a rarity, you would notice that a lot of the characters that are currently referred to as "queer-coded" were presented to the audience in a similar way as Ben was presented throughout jwcc. So yes, considering that I really choose to believe that jwcc Ben was queer-coded, I think it also explains why Yaz reached out to him. She knew that he would understand.

Additional notes:

When I say "Ben's gay-ass speech" at least two things come to mind:

1) Ben's iconic quote from season 1 - "And so what if she is asymmetrical? There's nothing wrong with being different, or bumpy," – don't argue with me "but he was talking about Bumpy" yeah, so? He was talking about "others being different", it's obvious that it's meant to resonate with more issues than just Bumpy's, well, bump

2) His conversation with Yaz when he openly said that he was "just now starting to find himself", self-discovery, figuring yourself out, sounds familiar? yeah.

I also have a whole theory (while I don't believe that the writers intended to write it as such I sometimes think about it) about Ben's entire character arc in jwcc being a metaphor for what it's like to grow up as a queer kid:

Stage one (season 1) - being in a closet, being really cautious about things you show interest in (pre-monorail Ben)

Stage two (seasons 1/2) - experiencing an event/trauma that makes you come out of a closet; as a result, your perception of the world changes and you completely redesign yourself (the "wild child" Ben era)

Stage three (season 3) - gaining courage, making statements, being bold about your choices (Ben intending to stay on the Isla Nublar)

Stage four (season 4) - understanding that just because a part of you is out, doesn't mean that you have to abandon your past self (Ben "figuring himself out", changing the habits he gained during stage two)

Stage five (season 5) - accepting yourself for who you are - queerness and everything that comes with the entire concept of you (Ben becomes a mixture of a jungle boy and that boy from season 1, these personalities merge seamlessly)

This particular interpretation is definitely me over-reading but this metaphor always worked for me, I really like it, mostly because it also reflects a bit of my own experience as a queer kid.

Hope that I answered your question anon :D

[uptoolateart]

Thanks to @hailqiqi for tagging me about ten thousand years ago. I just have so much to do 😩 Anyway! The original post said:

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Here we go!

Breaking Free - the whole series

I'm cheating here, because I'm listing a multi-book series, but I can't help it. I'm super proud of it. It started as a one-shot of Adrien and Marinette finding Gabriel's basement, and then it spiralled hard. It begins right after Strike Back. From there, it's a complicated, twisted and very bumpy ride.

'How did you think this up?' my BF beta has asked me many times. I don't know, guys. It just seemed obvious at the time 😆

This was my 'getting back into writing' book, after a lengthy creative hiatus / identity crisis. I churned out chapters because I needed to get back in the game and rediscover myself artistically. Then I went back and edited the whole thing a couple years later, to make it better (and expand it by about 20k words).

It became a series because I had requests for sequel scenes. Again, a couple one-shot ideas spiralled, and I merged them with another premise that had been kicking around in my head - Adrien, years later, trying to heal from everything as an adult and find himself as a father with his own teenage son.

That then spiralled again, and I ended up exploring Felix in depth, too, and pushing all the sentibeing stuff to extremes. The whole concept for Book 4 intimidated the hell out of me as soon as I thought of it. I was so worried I wouldn't be able to do it justice. Writing it was sometimes physical torture. But in the end, I think Book 4 contains what might be the best chapter I've ever written for anything in my life.

Still, the saga continues! Book 5 starts posting in 4 weeks. I've set myself another crazy challenge with that one, but I am determined to pull it off. I also have ideas for a few one-shots to collect in a volume I'm calling Book 6. The series is going to be like 700k words by the time I'm done. Maybe more. Will I ever truly finish this thing? I don't know. I fell so hard into the universe I created, and it's going to be hard to let it go. I fully expect to cry when I post the epilogue to Book 5.

Book 1 was also how I really got into this fandom and started making friends. Honestly, that book changed my life. Yeah...I'm gonna cry.

Dreaming Wide Awake

This was my follow-up to the S5 finale. The show is now going its own way, but I'm still so proud of how all the tension and emotions turned out in this fic. Again, the story is complex. It's also really surreal, and I think the battle scenes are some of my best. I was soooo nervous about the reader response to one of the big moments in it, but the unanimous reaction was everything I'd hoped for.

How the Heart Learns to Beat Again

A backstory from Nathalie's POV. It starts with her at age 25, as the sole survivor of an old magical order, going on extraordinary adventures seeking legendary artefacts. Then she meets the Agrestes, loses her magic, and gets roped into a new crazy world.

The story also explores Gabriel and Emilie, Colt and Amelie, and Adrien and Felix's creation / infancy. Book 2 (covering Emilie's death and how Gabriel and Nathalie start using the butterfly and peacock) starts posting on Monday. I think these fics are possibly the most mature writing I've ever done. There's a certain 'voice' to them that stands out from my other writing.

Finding a Way (Jurassic Park AU)

This is my most successful fic, so far. It's half goofy / romantic and half tense / action - with a lot of gore. I thought it would be total crack, but it took on a life of its own and became much more serious. There was something magical about how it all came together. I'm planning a sequel, but I need to get through a few other big fics first.

Voyage! Tales of the USS Miraculous (Star Trek Crossover)

This is so far from finished, but I'm having a blast writing it. It's basically all planned out and going to be mammoth when it's done. There's a little of everything in it, and you don't need to know Star Trek to understand it. I'm loving the reader speculations over what might be going on.

Okay! That's my list. Tagging @raspberrycatapult @kuromori4 @cardiac-agreste @mysticraven20 @trinketsinthesun @hamsteriffic @jigglypuff1994 @fandomofone

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20A: I Don't Need Nothing When I'm By Your Side

So hold me close, better hang on tight Buckle up, baby, it's a bumpy ride We're two kids hitching down the road of life Our world, our fight

-- “Born To Be My Baby,” Bon Jovi (1988) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Jamie frowned, looking back and forth between the shelf he’d just put together and the three unpacked boxes of books (two marked CLAIRE, one marked JAMIE).

Would she like them organized alphabetically by author? Genre? Size?

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Or perhaps she wanted medical books in her workroom? And maybe he could put his music books on the cabinet in his studio –

“There you are.”

He hadn’t heard Claire pad into the room – at some point they would need to get throw rugs to protect the gorgeous old hardwood floors – and smiled as she effortlessly stepped into his embrace.

They held each other for a long moment – his lips against her hair, her face buried in the safety of his neck.

Almost three months since the acoustic tour had ended, the night before Claire’s birthday. About six weeks since they had closed on their dream house, nestled against a mountain in the forests of North Carolina, not too far from The Ridge. And about two weeks since the items in storage – from her packed-up apartment in Boston, and his packed-up house in Los Angeles – had arrived.

The property had everything they needed. Privacy and solitude, of course. An old barn that they were using as a garage for Jamie’s motorcycle and cars. The house – an old cabin, really, dating from the 1800s and which had been lovingly expanded over the years – was perfect. A spacious living room, complete with the original stone fireplace. An eat-in kitchen, with newly replaced appliances. Two small rooms off the back that were now his music studio and her workroom – spaces to pursue their interests. A modestly-sized master bedroom. And a small extra bedroom – which for now was for guests, though God willing would be a nursery very soon.

Claire had insisted on doing two things quickly, before spending their time unpacking all the boxes.

The first was to hang his six gold and two platinum records in his studio – and he agreed, after he had hung her framed medical school diploma on the wall of her workroom.

The second was to install the fax machine on the bare floor of the studio – which, together with the phone, was their only link to the outside world.

For as much as they isolated themselves in this beautiful, peaceful place – the world pushed along without them.

In March, they would leave for L.A. and three weeks of rehearsals with the band. Maybe play a few small gigs in clubs on the Sunset Strip – Jamie had always wanted to do that. And in April, they’d fly to Europe, and kick off the tour that had swelled to 120 dates and stretched into 1990.

Colum was busier than ever – finalizing logistics, negotiating with local promoters, running interference with the suits from the label, upgrading the concerts from arenas to soccer stadiums. He had a conference call with the band every Tuesday – with Ian calling in from Lallybroch in upstate New York, and Angus from various resort spots in Mexico and the Caribbean (“I can’t believe Charlotte and Molly haven’t worn him out yet,” Jamie had mused to Claire one day. She had only shrugged and said, “they take care of each other”). Colum would always have a punchlist of decisions for the band – OK to book studio time during the week off in Scandinavia in July? The roadies couldn’t figure out the pyro setup without the band, OK to wait until rehearsals? They would need to film at least three music videos, which one could be a live performance? – and follow up with decisions in a fax sent later that day.

Jamie had been clear with Colum that he had three conditions for the tour: that Claire would be with him, that Raymond would be traveling with the band, and that the same no alcohol/drugs/groupies rule from the acoustic tour would carry through to this tour. Of course Colum had agreed. Just as he’d agreed to make provisions for Jenny to periodically fly out to visit Ian, and for Angus to always have a suite with two bathrooms to keep his girlfriends happy.

Claire and Jamie knew that this tour would be difficult, for so many different reasons. But they would be better prepared this time, to draw strength from each other, and to have Raymond for support. And maybe, just maybe they would return home from Europe with the best souvenir of all…

“Another fax from Colum,” Claire murmured after a long while.

Jamie snorted against her hair. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”

“I do admire how hard he’s working for you and for the band. And how much he’s keeping all of you in the loop on the decisions he’s making. He doesn’t want any surprises.”

“I’d imagine not. The amount of bullshit he has to be putting up with right now must be insane. I just hope he doesn’t crack.”

“He never said if he’s bringing Tricia on the tour.” Tricia – Colum’s wife of more than ten years. She stood a head taller than her husband, still impossibly beautiful in her late thirties, smiling for every frown on her husband’s face. Claire had only met her once – couldn’t say she really knew her – but she knew enough about her.

How she had first met Colum at a party in 1970, when he was a roadie for Led Zeppelin and she was part of a gaggle of groupies that held court at the Riot House in L.A.

How, when she and her girlfriends joined the Led Zep tour the following summer, he had punched out the lighting guy at the Cow Palace in San Francisco when he heard the guy didn’t understand what Tricia meant by saying “no”.

How Geordie Ash – the reporter who had put Jamie (and, in a way, Claire) on the map last year with that Rolling Stone article – had sent flowers to her hotel room every day for a month during Led Zeppelin’s 1973 U.S. tour. Not knowing, of course, that she was allergic to lilies – or how Colum, who knew more about her by that point than he cared to admit, had wordlessly disposed of them for her, every day that month.

“I don’t think she likes to tour.” Jamie’s thumb traced lazy circles on the skin of Claire’s back. “Too many bad memories.”

If you asked any rock journalist or musician who had found Alex MacGregor – assistant to Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant – dead in his Seattle hotel room in the spring of 1975, they would all say quite confidently that it had been Colum Laird, who by that point had advanced to lead Zeppelin’s touring crew.

But a handful of people – Peter Grant, and Colum, and Jamie, and now Claire – knew the truth.

Tricia woke up, Alex cold beside her in bed, a needle in his arm. The only thing she knew to do was slip quietly down the hall, tumbling into Colum’s room…and finally, his arms. Where she had remained ever since.

“I couldn’t imagine being away from you for so long.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know how they make it work.”

Jamie shrugged. “They love each other very deeply. They fixed the broken pieces in each other. And now she has the two boys to keep her busy.” He kissed her forehead. “Something for us to aspire to, perhaps. What’s in the fax?”

She held it out for him to read. Sharing a smile at Colum’s scrawl.

J+C: I’m not calling because I interrupted enough moments between you on tour and I’ll probably do it again this year. I don’t have Raymond’s info pls have him get in touch so we have a copy of his credentials and the travel agent can make all arrangements for Europe. I got the label to foot the bill for his travel meals and hotels, convinced them it’s a business expense, you’re welcome. Stay out of trouble. Colum.

“We’ll have him give Colum a call after he arrives this afternoon,” Jamie mused, folding the fax and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Claire nodded. “The guest room is all ready. And I’m glad Dougal and Gillian and William will be here tomorrow – I’m so happy they’re so close by.”

Jamie squeezed her shoulder, and released her. “As am I. Now, I have a question for you about these books…”

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

The Garden

Chapter One

❥Prince!Park Seonghwa x fem reader

☆ feat. ateez, tomorrow x together, and others

➯a/n: i've had this idea in the drafts for a very long time and it's gone through a million iterations of characters and love interests and something about hwa in the skirt and sword clicked in my brain. i'm still recovering but this idea hit me hard and fast so i decided i'd put something out. i promise i'll stop starting new stories 😭 (shoutout to my gf again for helping this come to life)

✃"I will give you the happy ending you've always wanted."

✫彡wordcount: 2.7k

(✯◡✯)genre: historical fantasy au, drama

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of violence, anxiety, and loved ones passing, briefly proof read

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

𖢌

I hope this letter has found you well.

   The wheels crunch the gravel road. Horses hooves clap against the ground loudly. The waves crash just feet way. The sounds echo through the carriage.

I know it's short notice.

    The sun is casting down from a clear sky. The grass is healthy, green and lush. The ocean is vast and blue, foam from the waves clings to the pure white sand.

Taedemere is in jeopardy. We are at war. Lord Hwang declared it silently.

  It was a bumpy ride. A long one. But you don't seem to mind. You keep your sisters entertained and keep your brothers minds off of the impending war. Doing so, you can almost manage to distract yourself from your own future.

He's already posted spies. Spies in the castle. Gods knows how long they've been here.

  "The dragon fell from the tower. It's shrieks echoed through the kingdom!" You read with enthusiasm, looking at the twins who look back with wide eyes.

It's not safe for them here. We had to sneak them away through the tunnels.

  "Did the prince kill it?!" Seunghee asks, holding tight to your skirt. "He must have," Soojun is entranced by the story, "right?"

There was an attempt on my life. An attempt on the girls in the garden. Another on Kai and (Y/n). They are everywhere.

  You launch forward and scream, spooking the girls back into Kais leg. He's holding back a laugh as he pats their heads. "The dragon soars up from the fog, the princes sword still lodged into its scaly side!"

They are threatening us with no words at all. Lord Hwang is coming for the Taedemere crown.

   "Must you scare them with such stories?" Yeonjun sighs as he tugs the young girls back up to the seat, sandwiching himself between them and his brother.

You must forgive our absence. I have to keep the crown secure until we have a more solidified plan.

   You simply ignore him, "the creature perches itself on the ledge, it's jaws reach for the prince. He backs into the wall and draws his dagger. 'Foul demon! I send you back to hell!' he yells as he dives at it. They tumb-"

It's time.

  The carriage halts. You snap the book shut and lean back to get a look out of the foggy window. Yeonjun slides into the seat next to you and does the same. Kai strains his neck to look out of the window behind him.

Take care of our children. Our future.

  The gates are iron, shining like they were scrubbed everyday. The castle beyond them seems to be endless.

-King Choi Seungcheol

  As the gates open, you can feel your heart beat in your ears. Seunghee climbs on your lap and peeks out of the window, her eyes widen with every second she inspects the castle.

   Yeonjun seems to notice your dismay as the carriage grows ever closer.

He can feel it to. The feeling that your future is being written in stone with every inch you grow closer.

"When I last saw him," he hesitates as he gets your attention. "Prince Seonghwa seemed to be the same. He hasn't changed, he's still your old friend."

  You manage a nod with a small smile, and although he can tell it's forced; it helps comfort him. It doesn't comfort Kai, however. He never liked the idea of you marrying someone so far away. He still doesn't. You're attached at the hip.

   Everyone knows Choi (Y/n) doesn't want to marry for security or position. You made it very clear. It's a miracle that you've been able to avoid it this long. You figured if you put up enough of a fuss, your oldest brother would simply give up. But you are equally stubborn. And now he's King.

  A loud horn startles you, and you instinctively pull Seunghee closer. Your breathing hitches until you realize it's just the castle welcoming your entourage.

   As you come to a complete stop, all of your demeanors change. Yeonjun wipes his caring expression away and straightens his back. Kai lets go of Soojuns hand and fixes his blouse. The twins try their best to hide their awe at the beautiful and vast architecture.

And all you can do is hide your growing anxieties with a polite smile.

  The door squeaks as it opens. Yeonjun is the first one to exit. Soojun eagerly follows, and Seunghee is right behind her. The remaining siblings can hear the fuss from the bystanders outside.

   The middle siblings sit silence for a moment before he speaks up. "You don't have to be afraid."

You look up and let the faux smile fade the second you see his sincerity.

  "Don't I?"

  "No."He shakes his head. He's sure. His sister has nothing to be afraid of. Because- "if that Prince hurts you; I'll be the one to personally whip some senses into him."

You can't help the small chuckle that leaves your lips, and motion for him to leave the carriage first. He does, leaving you alone for a single moment before someone peeks in.

  "Your highness?" You smile at the man in uniform, standing slowly.

  "So impatient," you roll your eyes playfully and take his hand as he helps you step down. "Thank you, Yeosang."

  He bows slightly before leading you to your place in between your brothers and sisters. Your eyes are still adjusting to the bright light, but you can see the large doors open in front of you.

Yeonjun kneels, Kai follows his lead, you follow his, Seunghee following you; and Soojun stands upright just staring at the royal family until you notice and pull her down by the back of her neck without even lifting you head. You can all hear a small snort of laughter, and Yeonjun worries your family managed to already offend them until the King speaks.

"Please, rise."

The Choi family does so and Yeosang, the knight, steps forward. He bows deeply before turning to the siblings. "The Prince Choi Yeonjun. The Princess Choi (Y/n). The Princess Choi Seunghee. The Princess Choi Soojun. Huening Kai."

A man steps up from behind the other family, introducing them like Yeosang had just done for your family. "His Royal Majesty Park Kyujun. The Prince Park Seonghwa. The Princess Park Bongcha. The Princess Hayoon."

Your family bows, greeting him in unison, "Your Majesty." Yeonjun continues. "Thank you for your hospitality, sire. We are forever grateful."

Your eyes are fully adjusted when you rise from your bow. The king is older than you remember, but it has been a long time. Princess Bongcha has grown so much that you briefly wonder if you've found yourself time-traveled. There's an unfamiliar little girl beside her. The prince, your fiancé, has changed just as much as you have. You contemplate if he even remembers you. But those wonders are cleared when he addresses you directly.

"Princess (Y/n)," he has a bright smile and dark hair, that much has stayed the same. "Your highness," you smile back and lower your head.

  Whispers echo through the crowd that's held back by the guards: and it's becoming hard for you ignore them. You wrap your arm around Soojun when she cowers closer.

   "Please, come," King Kyujun motions for you all to follow him, and you gladly do.

    It's been a long journey, but it's only just begun.

𖢌

  King Kyujun leads the Choi family down the great hall and they can't help but marvel in its greatness. To the twins, it's a new world to be explored, coming up with their own stories that go along with the stain glass windows. To the older siblings, it brings back memories of childhood, a time when they didn't have such worries that plague their minds these days.

  Yeonjun can remember his first kiss behind a delicately painted pillar during the dead of night. Kai can remember learning a dance with his mother in this hall, the feeling of belonging. (Y/n) can remember running away from the tutor with Seonghwa beside her.

  As you look over to him, you notice it. "You still have that goofy smile," you've dropped the titles and politics. You're just a girl reunited with her child hood friend and fiancé. "I though you may have outgrown it."

  "I'm starting to think I may not," he laughs a bit.

   "I'd hope not. It's one of your few redeeming qualities," you joke, hiding your smirk as you look up at the new chandelier you pass under.

   He feigns a gasp, a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know that I have many good qualities."

  You hum, turning to him, "such as? Sparring with a squirrel?" He slaps a hand over his mouth to swallow his laughter. Your laughter rings free in the empty hall.

   "That squirrel was a menace! It startled me!" He argues in a low voice. "It had no right jumping next to me like that," he says with an exaggerated frown.

   "Unnie!" Soojun hollers, catching your attention quickly as you see that your little sisters have fallen behind. You make your way to them quickly, scolding them that they shouldn't yell in the presence of the King. "Look, Unnie," she points as she ignores your scolding.

  Your heart speeds before it stops abruptly, face to face with the intricate stained glass window. The sun shines through it, casting colorful lights on you all. It's a beautiful collage of colors. Every tiny piece is fit together perfectly to tell a story.

   You flinch when a hand is placed on your shoulder. The King apologizes, retracting his hand. "You probably don't remember this..." You shake your head and look back to the art. "I remember, sire."

He sighs deeply, and you can feel his energy apologizing even if he says nothing.

    "Come on, there's food waiting." The twins cheer quietly, following the King to the room where everyone else has vanished to.

    Seonghwa joins your side and looks at the window, basking in the colored light as he looks over the picture for what must be the millionth time. In his lifetime, he hasn't been able to find a single flaw.

  He looks down at you. Your skin is painted in a range of blue and yellow, pinks and greens. There's a patchy scratch on the majority of your cheek that's slipped his notice until now. Your eyebrows have screwed themselves up and your lip quivers.

   "Don't cry," he was essentially begging, "please, don't cry, (Y/n)."

You sniff in response, rubbing a stray tear away from your cheek. It's silent between you as you have a staring contest with the glass. "Fuck," you mumble as tears start to fall more often. "Ah, (Y/n)," he coos, moving to block your view of the heartbreaking image.

"I... It's just, I haven't seen them since they passed, Cheol put away their portrait... It breaks his heart to see them, but it breaks mine not to. I almost forgot what they looked like."

He doesn't say anything, simply opening his arms and letting you fill them. After so long, it feels the same. You're still shorter, but you've both grown. He's still strong, but now you caught up. You still turn your head to the left and place it on his chest. He still wraps one arm around your back and places the other on your shoulders. After all these years, you remember how secure he feels when your arms link around his waist. Even with the time that's passed, he can recall the fact you love when he rubs his thumb over your shoulder.

So much has happened to each of you and yet you both still have memorized each other's hugs. You used to be each others safe place. And though you're older and have met again in such pressing circumstances, it remains the same.

"Your highness," the familiar voice is just loud enough to startle you. "Yes, Yeosang?" You questions calmly, and it's a stark contrast to Seonghwas glare at the man. "Your brother asks for you, ma'am." You nod to dismiss him, and turn back to Seonghwa when he's gone.

"How do I look?"

"Look like you've been crying."

You tut your tongue and gently slap his shoulder with the back of your hand. He smiles as you do. "It'll be okay," he assures you as he fixes a stray from your neat hair, "it's dark in the dining hall."

He takes your hand and pulls you away from the image of your passed parents lazing in the garden.

𖢌

His footsteps are heavy. He's forcing his breathing to be slow. His heartbeat is going wild as he gets closer to the Kings quarters.

He steps in front of the guards and they knock on the double doors. "Prince Yeonjun, your majesty!" The Kings response is muffled by the walls, but clear enough for the guards to be confident in opening the doors.

Yeonjun steps in and looks over his shoulder as the doors close behind him, anything to keep his eyes away from King Kyujun. The doors slam shut and he finds a tapestry to inspect.

"Please, sit." He follows his voice and finds himself sitting across from the King on the large balcony, a round table littered in papers separates them.

"Thank you, your Majesty," he eagerly takes the wine he offers, hoping it would soothe his dry throat. He can't remember being so thirsty before the King called for him.

"How do you find your quarters?"

Yeonjuns lips are still occupied with the glass when the man speaks up, and he takes his time before speaking shortly. "Very nice, sire. Thank you."

"And your siblings?"

"I'm sure they're adjusting well, sire. We thank you, again, for your hospitality while we discuss our plans."

When he finally has the courage to look at the man, it calms his nerves. His crown is gone. His blouse is astray. His nose and cheeks carry a rosy hue from the frigid weather. He looks much more human.

"This is, of course, why I've asked you here."

"Of course."

Kyujun leans back into the wooden chair and lets out a sigh. "Once (Y/n) and Seonghwa are married, we will put our combined efforts against Lord Hwang. He's a vicious man," he tuts his tongue, annoyed at the mere mention of the Lord of Kherhai. "I've heard of the attacks on your family. I'm sorry for you loss and... rest assured, we will not let anything happen to you at this court."

    "Thank you, sire."

   "Your sister," he hesitates just a bit, "I've looked into quite a few people to help her plan the wedding. They'll meet with her tomorrow. I know she doesn't agree with the circumstances, but that doesn't mean it must be unpleasant."

   "I'm sure she will appreciate it, sire. She's been hesitant to do any planning on her own."

   Kyujun nods in response. He already knows this. He's kept close tabs on his only sons fiancée.

   "Sire, may I ask when the wedding is supposed to be taking place?"

"This week, if all goes well. Lord Hwang is no doubt sending men this way as we speak to get rid of the rest of the Choi family lineage." Kyujun doesn't seem to notice Yeonjuns pained expression, and if he does: he doesn't say anything about it.

   He, instead, hands the young man a map of Kherhai: diving head first into strategy.

𖢌

[aley-nag]

Bumpy road, pretty result

Whoaaaa. This one...

The next fanfiction I bound was Cinder and Smoke by @thelittleblackfox. I lover their work to pieces. They write incredible thought out Stucky!AU's with a lot of fantasy aspects or really good scifi and I wanted badly to do one of their fics, but waited til I was a little happier with my results and could make a pretty cover. We decided together on this one and I started formatting... And then I stopped for a long while because Word is the devil.

Cinder & Smoke is a western!AU and just about the most romantic thing I've ever read. It has yearning and a little angst and a very distinct vibe that feels like Fernweh and wilderness and change. Go read it!

I worked on it between June and December 23 and Christmas was the only reason I finished it this quickly, but I did not want to leave it unfinished for the turn of the year.

Sadly I don't have a lot of pictures, but when I'm finished with my copy I'll post some more.

Now we'll come to the journey it was to finish this!

It started out rather uncomplicated, because I thought I had gotten the hang of formatting and then, when I tried adjusting the font and overall look of the text body Word kept killing the italics. And I googled and tried and experimented and I just couldn't get it to stop. I was so frustrated, oh god. It put me off a little and I had to leave it for a while. When I came back around to it I found a slightly butchered solution, that works though so I won't question it. After that formatting went smoother and I was able to bind it. I used paper from that same supplier that fucked up my paper order for the covers from the notebooks. But only after I had it printed I noticed that it was cut crooked and wouldn't cleanly fold in half. I despaired a little, said fuck it and hoped it wouldn't be to noticeable. I think it's alright.

Binding went really well and I think that's the cleanliest job I did to this date.

Did the endbands by hand to match the color scheme I was aiming for. Because of the title I wanted to invoke fire and used primarily black and red for the coloring.

Then came the cover. First of all, don't use black bookcloth. You will see every. single. mistake. Also dust and glitter... I brushed this thing so often, you wouldn't believe it.

And I tried different vinyl. I couldn't find the right shade of red I wanted, it's a little hard to source it around here so I went an entirely different route and used golden glitter vinyl. What I didn't know until after I plotted the design: The glitter has texture. I couldn't see a single cut-line. I had to keep the picture open to work along the edges and not rip the letters. Still lost all of the i-points 😭

The flower was pretty easy though. Glueing it on was also quite hard because it just wouldn't hold and I got glitter everywhere. Which let to more brushing but I'm afraid mailing it destroyed all that work :D

Anyway. I am sooo happy with how it turned out I instantly forgot about all annoyances and was able to mail it before the end of the year and that was a really satisfying last project, so all is well :)

This was also the first time I had the idea of choosing a little icon for the author's penname because most of the time I don't have enough space for the entire name. I reworked all of the other books to accomodate that.

Binding Details

Body Text: Garamond, 11

Half Title/Chapter Heading: Gold Lines Trial, 20

Full Title: Carnivalee Freakshow, 48

Word Count: 57.197

Pages: 232

Paper: publishing paper A4, 90g, 1,5x volume (from the retailer from hell :/)

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

can you do part 2 to the Kenny omega Babies piece where the Reader is watching one of Kenny Aew match or at an Aew paper view in person or is either at Reader and Kenny Home in NORTH CARRROLLINNNAAAA. And the reader ends up going into Labor but Kenny ends up making it to see either his Baby boy or Baby Girl born and the golden elite come to visit after the baby is born?

Babies Part 3

Main Masterlist Kenny Omega Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Summary: Your ringside for The Elite VS JAS VS HOB for the trios titles in Winnipeg when you go into Labor. 

Word count: 1565

Just about everyone advised me not to go to Winnipeg for Dynamite due to the fact that there was a really high possibility that I could go into labor during the show. Being the stubborn person I am, I refused and was determined to be there. I was so angry that I couldn't make it to AEW’s first ever show in Canada nonetheless in my home town of Toronto because of the whole suspension thing. Even though I was not suspended it was recommended that I also stay away for a while. Now we are in Winnipeg Manitoba Canada, and I am so excited to be a part of the show, even if it is just me being ringside for the boys match. 

I was sitting in hair and makeup getting ready for the show when Shannon, one of the costume designers approached me. 

“Hey Mama, how’s it going” Shannon said excitedly as she approached me

“Hi Shan, I’m doing alright for the most part. I feel huge” I said pointing down to my baby bump

“Hey now, don’t be so mean to bumpy. I can’t wait to meet that little girl. You and Kenny are going to be great parents!” 

“Oh yeah? I’m not too sure about that one. She could come any day and I’m literally terrified. I can hardly take care of myself let alone a little human baby!” 

“Please Y/N, You will be a great mother. I see how you treat the young talent here. You are like a second mother to them” 

“That’s different, yes they are my babies but they are 18 to early 20s. That is a big difference to a newborn child! Before you  cut me off, yes I know that I treat AEW as my baby but it is my baby. You have been here since day one girl. You know I would do absolutely anything for this company. You remember how hard it was in the beginning!” 

“I remember very well Y/N! But that is not why I’m here. I came here to give this to you” Shannon said as she handed me a gift bag with tissue paper sticking out of the top

When I opened the gift I was shocked to see a matching set of ring gear to the ones the boys would be wearing tonight

“Shan!!! You shouldn't have!” 

“Yes I should, do you like it?” 

“I love it!!! The real question is, is it going to fit me?”

“It should fit, If not I can make a quick fix if needed. I thought you would like something cute to wear tonight!” Shannon said with the largest smile on her face! 

“Thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me!” 

XXX

When I put on the gear I was shocked to see that it fit like a glove. The white and silver bodysuit hugged my curves perfectly, surprisingly making my baby bump look flattering.  The matching Jacket put the whole outfit together perfectly although I did swap out the boots for my Dior Jordans. No way was my swollen ankles were  going to get into the boots. 

Once I was all ready I headed over to the Elite locker room to show​​ Tyson and The Bucks my new outfit. 

*knock knock knock*

“Come in!” Nick yelled through the door

When I opened the door I was greated by Tyson, Hangman and both Matt and Nick! 

“Hi, everyone!” I said

“Jesus christ Y/N!!!” Kenny said, almost in disbelief 

“Do you like it?” I asked

“Like it, I love it!!! How did you get this?” 

“Shannon surprised me with it!” 

“Of course she did” Matt said, interrupting our conversation “She’s the best isn’t she Y/n!” 

“She really is Matt! How is everyone feeling? Ready for tonight?” I asked felling a bit of tension in the room

“Yeah, we are great! I’m honestly just a bit nervous” Kenny admitted 

After being friends for 14 years and together for the past 10 I knew by now that Kenny does not get nervous EVER. Not even when main eventing the tokyo dome. To him that was just another match. So I knew that although Kenny might not be nervous Tyson was. It was strange, normally he was Kenny Omega 24/7, and only few were granted the wish to use his government name but I could see that I wasn’t talking to Kenny Omega, this was Tyson Smith. 

XXX

A couple of hours have passed and it’s now time for the main event! 

The Elite Consisting of Kenny, Nick and Matt VS the team of the house of black consisting of Malachi Black, Brody King and Buddy Matthews VS The Jericho Appreciation Society consisting of Chris Jericho, Sammy Guevara and Daniel Garcia. A match for the trios titles that The Elite had just lost a few weeks ago to HOB at revolution. 

I was waiting backstage for the cue to make our entrance to Carry on Wayward son when I was greeted with a worried Tyson. That is when I figured out just why he was so nervous. 

“I really don’t think this is a good idea Y/N” Kenny said nervously pacing around the small area 

“What’s not a good idea?” I said, unsure just what he was referring to

“You being ringside for this match!”

“Why not? Everyone knows that I'm pregnant and will be careful not to run into me. Plus I can look out for myself. I will be fine, I think you forgot I am also a wrestler.” 

“No it’s not that”

“What? It’s not I will go into labor during the match” I said

Tyson said nothing he just gave me that look

“I will be fine, promise, ok?”

“Alright, I love you Y/N” 

“I love you too Tyson” 

XXX

The match was going great, The pop from the crowd when I made the surprise appearance with the Elite almost made me cry. I feel like they were almost more excited to see me than the boys. I did my usual interference and interactions with the crowd when I felt an abnormally hard kick to my stomach. Then I felt it, hot liquid running down my legs. I looked over to Brandon Cutler who was also ringside, filming for BTE when I whispered “I think my water just broke” 

I looked down to see the pool of fluid on the ground and when I looked up I made eye contact with Kenny who looked like he saw a ghost. 

I heard some people in the crowd gasp when it happened, almost everyone in the ring having the same reaction as Kenny. Thankfully Kenny wasn’t in the match when it happened so I was able to tell him that I was ok and that I would stay ringside until the match was over. And boy did those 20 minutes feel like the longest 20 minutes of my life. 

Once the match was finished I went to the backstage doctors who told me I should go to the hospital since I was in active labor. Me being the stubborn person I am, I refused. I wanted to stay until they taped rampage, since The Elite was booked to have a little speech after the taping to thank the crowd and have a little celebration For Kenny and Jericho. Tony Khan told me to forget about it and that I should really go to the hospital. I was getting tired of everyone telling me that but I was determined to stay. “If I have this baby backstage then I have it backstage!” I told a frustrated Kenny Omega. “ I am staying, end of story” 

Somehow I managed to make it through an extra 3 hours before we finally made it to the hospital. The celebration went well and in between some pretty nasty contractions I let the crowd know that I did indeed go into labor during the match! 

When I arrived at the hospital I was not alone. Tyson, Matt, Nick, Hangman, Adam Cole, Britt Baker and Matt’s wife Dana insisted on coming with us. Although it was weird at first I didn’t mind having my best friends with me. Although it was a bit of a sticky situation having this baby in Winnipeg it wasn’t all that bad. Kenny and I had a house in Toronto which was only about 2 and a half hrs by plane and due to the fact we would have an infant it would take around 20-24 hrs to drive. Kenny and I also both had family that lived in Winnipeg including Kenny’s parents who were kind enough to let us stay with them for a bit before we could get back home. 

I ended up having a natural birth due to my fear of needles and it was probably the worst decision I made in my life. The amount of pain I was in was insane but in the end it would be worth it. Tyson was scared, understandable so and so was I. 

Tyson, Britt and Dana were all there with me when I gave birth to my daughter. Tyson and I decided on the name Violet for our baby girl. She was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen in my life. To make things better I was surrounded by my best friends. 

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 31

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Reader POV

Words: 4328

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

The crescent tip of your fingernail traces along the bumpy ‘scales’ on the massive opal that lay on the pillow next to you. Though dulled and partially covered with years of neglectful dirt, the stone that shone underneath was beautiful. There were traces of blues, greens, yellows, and even pinks. All held together in a cream blanket.

Tyrion sat with crossed legs on your bed with you. He was equally puzzled on why your former maid had sent this opal to you beyond the grave.

The opal. . . Strange as it was, it radiated a comforting warmth whenever you wrapped your arms around it. You hadn’t felt such calmness in a long time. Even with your youngest brother now by your side, you knew you still had much ahead to stress about. Back in Westeros you had no such worries except Rhaegar’s infidelities. You had no duties and no one expected anything from you besides to provide Rhaegar with an heir that would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms. The one thing you had been expected to do. . . unfortunate events ripped your child from you and tore apart your world. Now you were in Essos where everyone expected the world of you. It was daunting and stressful. You had enjoyed sword fighting with your brother and everyone else, but the reality of your situation truly came to light when you had fought Inniros.

“Are you going to show it to that bald dude?”

You chuckle at him. “You mean the High Priest? Hm, I don’t know. Thalina sent this to me for a reason. Maybe she wanted me to sell it?”

Tyrion picks up the opal and puts it on his lap. “You would get a lot of money for it! It’s basically the size of a large egg. I would have never imagined that this was what Selmy was carrying around this entire time.”

Furrowing your brow, you prop yourself up on your elbow. Why would Thalina give this item to Varys. You hadn’t even known they spoke at all. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about Thalina. Like you hadn’t known she had a sister.

What did Varys, the Master of Whispers, have to gain from this? It made you worry of what he planned to do with this information. He knew you were alive.

“Barristan didn’t say anything else about Varys, did he?”

Shaking his head, Tyrion looks up at you sensing your mistrust of the knight he had been traveling with. “No. He’s good at keeping secrets. He didn’t even tell me we were delivering it to you until we arrived in Lys. I was so mad. He didn’t tell me that my own sister was alive.”

Softening and reaching out to him, your fingers smooth down his unruly hair. “Regardless, I’m happy you’re here Tyrion. I’ve missed you so much.”

His face is endearing and full of warmth as Tyrion lets himself fall into your touch. “I missed you too (y/n). When. . . the fire. . .” He couldn’t even talk about it for it made his eyes glossy. Chest raising as he took a deep breath, Tyrion collected himself. “Casterly Rock has been insufferable.”

You watch Tyrion shyly fiddle with the opal on his lap. He didn’t want to meet your eyes again otherwise he might very well end up crying. “I could only imagine. I know it must have been hard but what you did was very dangerous. You could have been killed had it not been for Ser Barristan. We have to thank him before he leaves.”

Tyrion scrambles off of the bed and looks out your window. The early morning sky was growing brighter with the continued rising of the sun. “He wakes up early. If we want to catch him, we’d have to leave for his room now.”

He sounded anxious. Maybe he hoped for his knight to stay. That was impossible though. Barristan was already in deep trouble for leaving Aerys’ side.

You nod and get up as well, not before grabbing the opal.

He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Once the sun rose, Selmy was up and pulling on his armored chest plate that he hid under his normal clothes. Without the chest, Barristan had more room for movement.

There was a nagging feeling that prevented him from leaving right then and there. He needed to see Tyrion one last time. He had grown fond of the boy, even attached. Tyrion had made the journey more bearable for Selmy.

Selmy had told Jaime just that when they had their private discussion. . .

“Before you go on to scold me, I want to thank you.” Jaime’s normally cocky tone was dialed down to that of genuine humbleness and gratitude. “You saved my younger brother. Brought him here and made (y/n) incredibly happy. I don’t have much at the moment, but I owe you.”

Selmy had wanted to yell at him. Disgrace him and fill Jaime with shame for abandoning his post. In the grand scheme of things, Selmy knew it was no longer important. There was something else going on in the temple that Barristan had no comprehension of. This was a new world to him. (y/n) and Jaime seemed to be highly regarded there. Plus, Selmy had done the very same thing. He had forsaken his king and vows to do what the Spider had asked of him and for what? Had it been the worry and fear on the eunuch's face?

Pursing his lips, Barristan’s shoulders slump. “I’m not going to scold you. Even if I did, would you listen?”

Jaime pauses to choose his words carefully. That was also something new. A thoughtful Jaime. “Out of respect for you, I would have. I would’ve listened but it would have done nothing to change my mind. My loyalty is in a much better place. With my sister (y/n).”

“So you acknowledge that you have committed high treason then?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Jaime nods with an easy smile that unnerved the seasoned knight. “But I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I would do them all again. If I hadn’t done what I did, (y/n) would have been dead. I will never regret turning my back on Aerys and the rest of the guard. I’ve fought along the men here, they are good men. Well, most of them. I do know that they would put down their life for my sister. She is much safer here than in Westeros where someone was obviously trying to kill her. . .”

Why had his voice grown quiet? “Did you ever find out who set fire to her rooms?”

Green eyes flicking away, Selmy saw a newly healed cut on his cheek that had barely missed his eye. “No.” It sounded like a lie but Selmy wasn’t going to pry anymore.

Barristan Selmy sighed and glanced at the door. Was anyone listening in on their conversation? Probably. Those who resided in the temple didn’t seem to trust him. “Who are these people? Why do they treat your sister like. . . Like she’s-”

Jaime cuts him off “Like she’s important?”

Not exactly what he was going to say, but it was along the lines. “Strange men with tattoos on their faces and women who look just as terrifying. . .”

Out of the blue, the former Kingsguard knight shakes his head. “I can’t tell you. Not if you intend on going back to King Aerys.”

“You know I have to.”

“Obviously you don’t have to. Look at me now.” Jaime barked out a laugh. “You don’t owe anything to the Mad King. You're one of the best knights in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Do whatever the hell you want! I know Tyrion would be happy to have you here.”

Barristan stood up; he had hoped that Jaime would return with him. Maybe then Aerys wouldn’t be as upset for him leaving for so long. It was clear that Jaime wasn’t going anywhere and Barristan didn’t have the manpower to force him back to Westeros. And there were Jaime’s fellow soldiers to worry about.

Jaime reigned himself back in. “One of these days Selmy, you’ll find something that is truly worth your loyalty. It will be your reason to change. When that happens you’ll see how much of your life you have wasted in the service of Aerys Targaryen.” Getting up as well, Jaime held out his hand. “There are no hard feelings from me though. Go back to Westeros if you must. My place is here.”

Maybe it was just Selmy, but he saw a change in the young, cocky, Jaime. In his Kingsguard days, Jaime had kept his brilliant shock of gold hair short and had a permanent air of arrogance about him. Before him was almost a completely different young man. Hair had grown long and was kept at bay with a rope tie. His former peach complexion was gone, overtaken by a tan. Foresaking his suit of metal in exchange for looser, more comfortable, attire; Jaime looked at ease in his surroundings.

Holding out his hand, he grasped Jaime’s outstretched one.

“Ser Barristan?” A muffled voice on the other side of his door nearly startles him. It sounded like Ilta’s, the soldier who had escorted him to his room.

His assumptions proved correct, but there was another female guard with her. Tall with short blonde hair sheared close to the scalp with the same flames upon her cheeks.

“Dārilaros (princess) (y/n) would like an audience with you before you leave.” Ilta speaks again.

“If you would be so kind as to follow us.” The blonde guard offers Selmy a tentative smile.

On his way through the temple, they passed through the open, arched, hallway that looked out into what appeared to be a training facility. The ground was void of any greenery and beaten down into sand in the middle. Beyond one could easily see the rolling waves and incoming ships.

Men and women in the same orange and red robes sparred with one another.

“That’s where our Fiery Hands train.”

Barristan nearly choked on his air. He hadn’t heard this small girl’s arrival. It was like she had popped out of nowhere.

Ilta greets her. “Lady Alizah.”

She was a lot shorter than Ilta and had a unique pale face with her lips dyed black with streaks tattooed on either corner of her mouth. Her scarlet freckles made Selmy wary that perhaps this girl had some kind of disease.

Lady Alizah’s almond shaped eyes look directly ahead, not missing a beat with her companions despite her stature. “Ilta, Chetna. Sorry to have surprised you.”

“Are those the temple soldiers?”

“Something like that. Although I personally believe they’re more than soldiers.” Her voice has a dreamy softness that could put someone comfortably to sleep if she so wished it.

“They hold up the faith of R’hllor, the Lord of Light.” The guard known as Chetna helps to further elaborate and points to her cheek. “The tattoos, a symbol that the Lord of Light is always with us.”

He had heard that those who believed in the faith of R’hllor came off as religious zealots. Selmy now realized it was true. The religion was hardly spoken of in the Seven Kingdoms with many people believing in the Faith of the Seven or even the Old Gods. It was mainly a forgein religion that Selmy was not familiar with.

“Don’t bother with Ser Selmy with your talk of R’hllor.” Ilta tells them with a wave of her hand. Her golden bangles clink against one another. Even though she was a soldier of faith, she still had her courtesan trinkets that she dare not part with. Each one of the bangles she wore could probably pay for a small army.

“They’re no bother. I’ve never heard anything about it.” He simply shrugs, not wanting to offend their beliefs.

Their little group was slowing down, drawing closer to (y/n)’s private chambers where a few guards milled up and down the corridor.

Lady Alizah stops them in front of a large wood door. In the dark wood there were intricate designs that Selmy’s old eyes couldn’t possibly make out. It was clearly made with the utmost care. “Perhaps if you come back to Volantis, we can have a chat about R’hllor. If you so desire.” She bows a little at her waist before heading down the opposite way.

A guard that was standing off to the side goes to the small girl and in a whisper asks if she would like assistance back to the High Priest. Alizah smiles but shakes her head, continuing on her merry way.

Chetna raps her knuckles against the door and took a step back. The door lurched for a second before being pulled open. Tyrion smiled up at Barristan Selmy. “Thought you could leave without saying bye?”

Barristan chuckled. “I figured you would send their entire army out to catch me.”

“I do have friends in high places.” Tyrion stepped aside for the knight to enter.

At the center was a tiled table, plush cushions surrounding it and on one of them sat (y/n). Next to her, in a lounged cross leg position was her older brother Jaime. She puts her cup down on it’s saucer and stands up to greet him.

“Ser Barristan.” She tilts her head down in a customary form.

The action made him feel slightly embarrassed. “That’s not necessary. . . my lady? I’m not sure what title to use. . .” Jaime hadn’t exactly been clear what her role was with these people.

Awkwardly (y/n) laughed. “Ah, you can just call me (y/n).” The climate of Essos agreed with her complexion and demeanor. He couldn’t quite remember her from her time in the Keep, but he knew that she had never appeared this comfortable with herself. “I owe you my gratitude for bringing both my brother and Thalina’s gift to me.”

Heart rekindled with a giddy jump, Barristan had to hold back his excitement. “The chest. . . you opened it already?”

(y/n) motioned for Barristan to take a seat on a cushion. At first it was a bit awkward to position himself on, but eventually he found a comfortable enough spot. Tyrion muffled his giggle and sat next to him. Two servants came with tea and snacks, setting them on the low table.

“It wasn’t easy.” Tyrion told him. “Rhiannon- oh! She’s Thalina’s sister by the way. Thalina was (y/n)’s maid. Rhiannon spent all night trying to open it. Turned out the box itself was a giant puzzle!”

From behind his back, Jaime revealed a large opal. Oddly shaped, it glimmered with so many beautiful colors that Selmy had never seen before. “This is what was inside it. The note left behind for my sister said it was found in Dragonstone.”

Not knowing what to make of it, Barristan glances at the three Lannister siblings. Each one looked so different from the other besides their blonde hair. Tyrion was excited about everything happening to him.

The maid must have stolen it from Dragonstone. Why she wanted (y/n) to have it so desperately was beyond him.

(y/n) watches him with guarded thoughts. Much like the scar on Jaime’s cheek, she had a newly healed scar above her brow. Her long dirty blonde hair was also pulled back into a ponytail similar to her older brother’s. It was the perfect hairstyle in a climate like Essos; it kept them cool while also protecting their neck from sunburns. There was definition of bicep muscles as well that told Selmy (y/n) had been physically training. The docile little girl from Westeros had evolved and grown under the Red Temple’s roof.

“What has the sister said of this?” A small teacup in front of him, Barristan felt a little silly picking it up in his massive hand.

“She’s equally perplexed about it.” (y/n) admits, her eyes flicking over to the opal that her brother was now handing her. She weighed it in her hands, eyelids drifting downward as she gazed at it. “But she knows her sister must have had a good reason. It’s the least of my worries right now.”

A door off to the side opens and a small maid with dark braids walks in with a tray in her hands. Atop of the tray is a velvet cream bag. She places this in front of Selmy. Jaime thanks the girl and calls her ‘Inanna’. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old but smiled politely and went back through the door she had come in through. “Our thanks.”

Hesitant, Selmy tugs at the gold cord that kept the bag shut. When he looked inside he couldn’t believe the amount of gold that lay inside. He immediately closed the bag. “I don’t need this. Knowing that Tyrion is here with his family is thanks enough. I have done my duty to the Spider.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes and huffed, pushing the bag closer to him. “Just take it. (y/n) said this was also from the High Priest. The bald dude that we met yesterday.”

“As a reminder also to keep her existence a secret. Better yet, don’t tell anyone about us either.” Commented Jaime in a slightly warning undertone.

His hand hovered over the bag before clutching it and putting it in his robes. Selmy nods. “Very well. I shall take it for your piece of mind. But you can trust me. I will not tell a soul.”

Timidly, Tyrion siddles up to Selmy and quietly tells him “If you happen to see Lady Ashara again, tell her I said thank you for her generosity.”

Selmy might never see the beautiful lady of Starfall again. Once he returned to King’s Landing, who knew what Aerys’ reaction would be. The Mad King could easily order his execution and he would be in the right.

Patting him on the head, Selmy smiles warmly. “Don’t forget to keep practicing. Don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can’t do. That’s all up to you.”

Even (y/n) grew a little dewy eyed at Tyrion acting so tough in front of his mentor. The youngest Lannister nods. “Yes, sir.”

He was a good kid. Selmy would miss him dearly.

You knew a part of him hurt at watching Barristan Selmy’s ship sail off toward the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrion had voiced his wish that the knight would decide to stay and continue to teach him how to swordfight.

Drawing him closer to your side, Tyrion’s hands grab at your skirts. He didn’t want to show how he was feeling and hid his face. “You’ll see him again. I’m sure of it.”

“That is if Aerys doesn’t kill him upon his arrival.” Tyrion mumbles against you.

Biting your bottom lip you knew that was a high possibility. You look back out to the glittering sea. You prayed to whoever was listening to keep him safe.

Jaime was still perched on his cushion, enjoying the refreshments that Siofra and Inanna had dropped off. Aimlessly picking at pieces of nuts and fruit but you could tell his mind was somewhere else. Did his presence bring up Jaime’s regret? It was a cold reminder of his desertion and the consequences that would fall upon him if he returned to Westeros while Aerys was still king.

The sooner Rhaegar won the war, the better. When you return. . . well, you had lots of hopes of your return, but the biggest was the hope that Rhaegar would grant Jaime leniency. He had proved himself to be a good man and shouldn’t be punished for abandoning his post. Maybe even reinstate him into the Kingsguard if Jaime so wished.

For a moment you stare at the back of Jaime’s head, lost in thoughts that revolved around Rhaegar. It wasn’t anything new. You frequently thought of Rhaegar during the rare moments you were completely alone; mostly at night when you missed his sleeping form next to you. At night was when you were most lonely. The phantom caresses you tried to bring upon your memory were now fleeting. It had been so long since you had been in Rhaegar’s arms. You couldn’t exactly remember how it felt but you knew that you missed it dearly. You missed his soft exhales as he dreamed much sweeter things than his reality. Missed how he would unconsciously wrap his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

Barristan Selmy had been a distant connection to Rhaegar and it made your memory burn with desperate want.

When Jaime turned around, he broke the spell you had been under. He looked equally dazed from his own deep thoughts. Had he been thinking of Cersei? He must miss her like you missed Rhaegar.

He holds up the opal. “Were you going to take this to the High Priest? He might know something about it if he can read the fire.”

“Eventually. But first,” You twist around back to Tyrion who was still looking out on your balcony. “I want Tyrion to meet someone.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I’m sure there’s plenty of new people for him to meet here.”

You shake your head. “No one like Inniros.”

“(y/n)-”

“We’ll be fine.” Trying to assure him, you took the opal out of his hand. “As long as I bring Lightbringer, you shouldn’t have to worry. The High Priest doesn't see him as a threat either. He gave Inniros his own room.”

Jaime wanted to press on about the dangerous darkin, but he pressed his lips together and simply nodded. He had personally seen you go head to head with Inniros. Not even Jaime had been able to wound the assassin. You had been the only one able to stop him in his deadly tracks.

“What are you guys talking about?” Tyrion walks back into your room looking older than he was.

You smile at him. “How would you like to meet an actual darkin?”

His sparkling eyes told you his answer.

You had to ask a priest where they had moved Inniros to. Surprisingly it was very close to your own apartments. The priest had said that Benerro felt better if Inniros was placed close to you so you could keep an eye on the darkin.

"Have you actually seen him use his shadows?" Your little brother asked excitedly. He was walking fast alongside you, finally forgetting about Selmy's departure.

It was a relief to see Tyrion's happy face once again. That intellectual brain of his craving for more information. You reposition the opal that you were holding in your arms. You just didn't feel right leaving it in your room. Something told you that you were not to leave it alone. "Yes. I actually fought him."

Pausing, Tyrion gazes up at you. He had seen Lightbringer at your side. "So you've learned how to sword fight too?"

On your walk you tell him of the Fiery Hands and the training they had put you and Jaime through. You showed him the long scar on your hand that was courtesy of Weles. It made your brother flinch but you assured him that it didn't hurt and that there were no hard feelings between you and the captain. Even going so far as telling Tyrion that if he so wished to continue his own training, that Weles could possibly help him.

Turning a corner into the corridor that was to lead to Inniros' room, you were met by a red priestess sitting outside his door with Vidarr and the towering Yophiel who stood rigid against the wall.

"Nuha kosh." Vidarr greets you and Yophiel pushes himself off the wall to properly face you. The quiet red priestess smiles gently and places her book on her chair. You couldn't quite remember her name, there had been a lot of priestesses that you had met during your time in the temple. When Vidarr spies Tyrion by your side, he offers him a patient smile. "Ah, you must be the young Lord Tyrion."

"Indeed. Tyrion, this is Vidarr and Yophiel. They are part of the Fiery Hand."

He had to crane his neck up in order to look at Yophiel's face. Tattoos weren't very common in Westeros. They're tattooed faces must have been jarring for him. He was polite and even greeted them in Valyrian, surprising all four of you.

Vidarr laughs. "He's much better than you were when you first came here!"

Blushing slightly, you can't help but feel a shy sort of pride. Yes, Tyrion had always been smarter and quick to understand things. Smiling as you turn to face the red priestess present, she bows to you. "Nuha kosh, are you here to visit the darkin?"

"Yes, if I may."

"You can do whatever you want." she replies smoothly and steps aside, motioning for the two other men to follow her movements. They look wary but say nothing as you knock and the door opens.

You're shocked when you see Inniros. His red dreadlocks were gone, his hair was trimmed close to his scalp so that you could now easily see his long, pale, face. There was no hiding his empty eye socket.

Beside you Tyrion scrunches his face and whispers to you "This is the darkin? He doesn't have any claws."

About to reply to him, Inniros interupts with a sudden sharp gasp. "That egg!"

"Egg?"

Inniros rushes you and Tyrion inside his room. It was much smaller by your's, probably no bigger than Rhiannon's. "My lady, where did you get that?"

You look down at the opal, confused as you tell him about the puzzle box that came from Thalina.

He shakes his head. "That is no opal."

"What is it then?"

Under his breath he whispers "It's a dragon egg, my lady."

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[dominickeating-source]

TV Zone Issue 63 (2005)

Reed All About Him

As the curtain comes down on Star Trek: Enterprise, Dominic Keating talks with Steven Eramo about the show's final episodes and looks back fondly at his tour of duty as Lt. Malcolm Reed.

His favourite food is pineapple, he tends to be shy around the opposite sex, and he takes great pride in doing a job well done. Over the past four years, fans of Star Trek: Enterprise have gotten to know a bit about what makes the Enterprise NX-01�s tactical officer Lt. Malcolm Reed tick. Recently, he was even forced to reveal a part of his life that he'd previously kept well-hidden. But the lieutenant's TV journey has come to an abrupt end with Enterprise's cancellation. 

"I was in the parking lot of the YMCA when Rick Berman called to tell me that the show had been cancelled," says Reed's alter ego Dominic Keating, referring to the series' executive producer. "I more or less took it on the chin. Deep down, I think we all knew. It's quite sad, really. I mean, there are people I know at the gym who ordinarily wouldn't watch a show like Star Trek. However, because they know me, they've been watching and have become fans. Over the past few months, these people have come up to me and said, This year has just been incredible. They've been genuinely excited to tune in each week, especially as Enterprise seemed to have finally found its stride this season. But, of course, now it's all over."

There's no denying that the first half of Enterprise's fourth year was very much Malcolm Reed-lite. Except for his bridge scenes and the occasional rescue mission, the character remained off the radar. However, Keating was of the mind that good things come to those who wait, and he was right. "I did hardly anything in the first 11 episodes of this season," says the actor. "That said, they were terrific stories in terms of Star Trek lore, and I was just happy to be working. I'm not an actor who reads the scripts week after week and says, Is that all I get to do? I'm lucky in that I got off to a good start with Enterprise and had some neat Malcolm stories in the first three years. That sort of satiated my actors vanity and need to be recognized," he laughs.

"As for this season, things started to pick up for Malcolm with Observer Effect, in which his body is among those taken over by an alien life form. I had some fun scenes in that one, including the opening teaser where Malcolm and Ensign Mayweather [Anthony Montgomery] are playing chess. That was an actual chess game that Anthony and I played for every take. It was shot in a fairly wide angle so that you could, in fact, see each move."

Reed's other moment in the spotlight - albeit a very shadowy spotlight- came in the two-part story explaining the differences between the smooth-headed Klingons of the original series and the bumpy headed models of more recent years.

"I can't tell you how excited I was when I received the scripts for these two episodes," says Keating of the episodes which revealed Reed to be an agent of the black ops unit Section 31. "Funnily enough, I'd actually pitched a story not unlike it back in season one. It was an idea for a Manchurian Candidate-type episode apropos the Suliban. So when Affliction and Divergence came along I was thrilled that my character had this 'boiled sweet' as it were at the back of his mouth that nobody knew he was sucking on. I didn't even ring Manny Coto to ask for any backstory. I just figured that Malcolm was a member of some skull and crossbones society that he joined years ago and that it had now come back to haunt him.

"This was a solid story, very gritty, and a nice little arc for me. I thoroughly enjoyed the scenes I had with Scott Bakula, and Eric Pierpoint, who played Section 31 chief Harris, was a pleasure to work with as well. The two of us really hit it off and we had a lot of laughs together on set. Eric has guest-starred several times on Trek, including the year one Enterprise episode Rogue Planet. This season, his character of Harris recurs almost right up to the end. In fact, threes a scene in the episode that LeVar Burton directed Demons where Harris and Reed meet in a dark alley and he suggests that my character go work for him. During one of the rehearsals I asked, "Why, what have you got? A TV pilot? A movie? That brought the house down, especially as we'd already heard about the cancellation."

It was while filming the second half of the alternative universe episode, In a Mirror, Darkly, that Keating along with the rest of the Enterprise cast and crew learnt of the shows imminent demise. " Supervising producer Merri Howard had announced she was leaving while we were working on the first part of this story," says the actor. "That was a bit of a belly blow. It was like, Oh, God, they're all jumping ship. Merri kept saying it didn't mean anything, but it was difficult not to imagine that it did. And then we got cancelled. The news was tempered by the fact that for this episode they'd built a replica of the original Enterprise bridge as well as its corridors, and our characters were dressed in classic Trek costumes. Still, it was an odd time. As I mentioned earlier, we all had a feeling this was coming, so it was like a dark cloud was suddenly hanging over us."

Not surprisingly, shooting Enterprise's finale, These Are The Voyages, was an emotional experience for all concerned, including Keating. "We shot our last scene in engineering on Friday night [25th February]," he notes. "It was Connor Trinneer and me, and it's quite wonderful, really. I think it's one of those moments that fans will play back over and over in their heads. Basically, it's a thinly disguised allegorical scene for the end of our stint on Enterprise as both characters on the ship and actors on a TV show. It's very moving. There were a couple of times that night where I welled up. That Friday it really hit home for all of us that this was it."

Although he has no idea what fate has in store next for him, Keating is sure that he'll be OK. "I truly believe that, generally speaking, things happen for a reason," muses the actor. "I remember at the time I was gutted when my contract wasn't renewed on the UK sitcom Desmonds. Nonetheless, I went ahead with my plans to visit friends in San Francisco. I ended up going to Los Angeles, which wasn't planned, met some people there and six weeks later I moved to the States.

"Had things not turned out the way they did on Desmonds, I wouldn't be here today. I love living in Southern California and best of all, during my time on Enterprise I've learnt how to really act in front of the camera. I'm a different acting animal than I was four years ago. The show was an amazing luck of the draw for me. It may take some time, but I've just got to wait for the right part in the right project to come along again. I'm confident that will happen."

Celestial Bodies

Among the final episodes to be shot for Enterprise's fourth season was Bound where three Orion slave girls use their feminine wiles to persuade male crewmen to do their bidding. "Let me just tell you, the dance that the three actresses perform in the episode is very sexy," says Keating "The choreographer they worked with had also worked at one time with Janet Jackson. There were no wardrobe malfunctions, but there was quite an energy on set, green or otherwise," chuckles the actor.

"Cyia Batten, who played the lead Orion slave girl, was one of the original dancers in The Pussycat Dolls. She's just beautiful, as are the two women who played the other two Orion gals. William Lucking, who guest-starred as the girls owner did a terrific job as well and gave a very Marlon Brando-like performance. The set for this episode was great, too. It was a sort of space-age Sci-Fi tent where our characters were seduced with food, drink and foxy chicks."

Taking the High Road

Looking back at his time on Enterprise, Keating has nothing but good things to say about the shows cast, in particular, Scott Bakula. "One of the times I welled up on the Friday that I previously spoke of was while we were shooting a scene in the shuttlepod launch bay," he says.

"It was me, Scott, John Billingsley, Linda Park and Anthony Montgomery. I remember watching Scott at work and thinking, Scott, I can't tell you how great these past four years have been. I've learnt so much working with you, not only about the craft of acting and how to carry oneself on a film set, but also about being a human being.

"Scott is an extraordinary individual and one of life's true gents. Without sounding too full of myself, there are moments in my daily life when I'm not prone to take the high road, and I'll ask myself, How would Scott Bakula behave in this situation? That's the kind of positive affect he's had on me."

Source: www.dominickeating.com

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi. ISFP here. I was hoping you could give some incite on what's going on with my INFJ husband. Today, we decided to go for a walk around our neighborhood to help with waking up earlier. It was fine until the end, when I voiced that it would be even nicer if we travled a little to this park nearby. (Which is only an 8 minute drive away.)

His response was all about rush hour traffic and it taking a half hour to get there. This greatly frustrated me because it felt like he already decided it wasn't a good idea based off the ridiculous notion of it being much further away than it actually is. I thought it was such a ridiculously negative outlook that I wished I never brought it up, which caused me to fume. His self-assuredness can be sometimes draining in these regards, so I clam up. Yes, we could have discussed it, but in that moment, his response felt so negative I was completely dumbfounded.

Of course he notices. We get home, he looks into the actual distance and says it's a 15 min drive with rush hour traffic. (I don't know where he's getting his numbers from.) I'm further annoyed. It's like, instead of keeping an open mind and wanting to try what could be a pleasant experience out, he's looking for all the reasons not to do it. So I feel like my idea is being squelched, and now I'm just angry, as I tell myself I could just go alone. He doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to.

Of course he notices. So we discuss what's going on in my head because I understand he needs to make sense of the emotions floating around in the room. And I know all of this sounds a little petty, but this is where my question lies: when I finally tell him how he's made me feel because of his negative initial response, he deflects by asking, "Am I not allowed to voice my concerns?" This feels incredibly manipulative. So I'm not allowed to feel hurt and upset by his negativity squelching my very small dream?

Am I over-sensitive? Should I be the the one apologizing? Usually I do, but I've had it. Something doesn't feel right, so I don't bend this time. Of course he's allowed to voice his concerns, but maybe his way of communicating them and timing is flawed. And now he's moping, stuck in his head, and ignoring me. And the whole experience has just completely ruined the morning. I know in sociology our types aren't necessarily compatible, and it's been bumpy, but we've grown a lot together. So I just want to know how we can work through these differences.

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

The both of you need to improve your communication skills. As far as I can tell, you're both being oversensitive, for reasons uncertain, though it can likely be traced back to auxiliary development issues. In this case, "oversensitivity" means reading too much into the intent of people's words and/or ascribing the wrong intent.

On your part, you accused him of being too negative, with the intention of shutting you down, even manipulating you. On his part, he accused you of not allowing him to voice his opinion, as though you often intend to silence him. Neither of you seems to have interpreted the situation correctly. Now that some time has passed and you're calmer, I hope you can go back and review what happened more objectively.

First, do you genuinely believe that you both have a right to voice an opinion? If not, then you have a problem of not allowing people to be authentic, which means they won't like being around you. If you do believe in freedom of expression, then act like it. In this situation, your way of thinking basically boils down to, "I will only allow you to have an opinion if you express it exactly the way I want you to". Is this reasonable? Is this true freedom of expression?

In this kind of situation, freedom of expression means people are entitled to their individual likes, preferences, and opinions. Period. No explanations, qualifications, or conditions owed. This means he was actually being somewhat generous in providing you with the reasoning behind his decision.

You didn't agree with his reasoning, which is your right. But what's most important in a disagreement isn't the disagreement itself but how you respond to it. Where things started going wrong is that you disagreed with him based on what is true for YOU while overlooking that there might be a difference in what is true for HIM. For example, perhaps he couldn't handle the distance as well as you for some reason?

In your reaction, you immediately launched into personal attacks by judging him as too closed-minded, "negative", "self-assured", or "ridiculous". This then made you too angry to engage in an objective discussion about the merits of the idea. Even when you don't say your personal attacks out loud, the negative/aggressive emotions still get expressed through your inability to communicate. The fact is you did not respect his opinion, and he knew it.

What if you had said something like, "Yes, I see why you would say the distance is far. I don't mind the distance, though, so I would still like to go. You may join me if you like or I can go ahead without you." Do you think he would've reacted as negatively? The first sentence shows that you hear his point and understand his perspective. The second sentence expresses your preference without any judgment or hostility about his. The last sentence gives him a true choice in the matter, which respects his right to his preferences.

Even if it's true that he exhibits a pattern of being too negative/extreme in his estimation of things, people respond much better to criticism when it is constructive rather than judgmental. If you had approached the discussion from the perspective of care, e.g., of not wanting him to suffer from too much negativity, then he'd probably be more willing to hear you out. But when you approach it from "be what I want you to be", expect people to get defensive.

He is also an unskilled communicator. Because he was offended, he wasn't able to empathize with you when you were upset. He didn't take enough time to investigate your perspective and understand why his words didn't land well. Saying "am I not allowed to voice my concerns?" was not a manipulative but a defensive maneuver. It is a kneejerk reaction to feeling judged, and you were indeed judging him.

In my view, this is not mainly a problem of personality/compatibility but rather emotional immaturity on both sides (that foments unhealthy function expression). You have a habit of being too easily offended and judgmental upon hearing something you disagree with, which makes it too difficult for you to engage in objective and reasonable discussion. He has a habit of being too negative and handling disagreement in the wrong way by compulsively trying to prove a point, which destroys people's willingness to engage in empathetic and productive discussion. These are personal flaws that, if left uncorrected, are likely to cause recurring relationship friction.

[alpineshift]

How about prompt 12?

All the possibilities!! Maybe a post-apocalyptic, The Last of Us angsty vibes au?

12. “You can’t tell anyone. Seriously. Even them.”

Something's off about this whole job.

Jack's hiding something. Nico knows he is. He sees it in the lines of tension covering Jack's shoulders that never dissipates, and the permanent dark circles under his eyes.

He's not sure if anyone else has noticed, but Nico has, simply because he notices everything when it comes to Jack. He's pretty sure that's not part of their weirdly co-dependant friends-with-benefits situation (but secretly more than friends and not just physical benefits) for him to be nosy, but Nico can't help it.

He's so protective of Jack it's not even funny. It's very stressful in the post-apocalyptic, brain-fungal infecting reality they live in, but Jack is his one single, shining beacon of normality. Someone who's serious, protective, and capable, but also kind, sweet, and simply makes Nico smile.

So yeah. Something is way off. Jack cobbles together a pretty minimal team transporting what's apparently some secret, hyper-sensitive chemicals up to the US-Canada border, but yet he tried to leave Luke and Quinn out (red flag number one) and then only reluctantly let his brothers join after they nearly tore him a new one for trying to run off by himself (red flag number two). They're all a team, damn it. They've never done a run without each other.

Nico doesn't get the full story until one night, when he walks in on Jack washing up by himself in the shallow riverbank at midnight.

It's a full moon, which is the only reason why he sees it: the bite mark lodged in Jack's upper arm, deep and painful-looking, but, miraculously, healed over.

What the fuck.

Jack nearly shoots him when Nico goes splashing over, wild-eyed and panicked, grabbing Jack by the arm and dragging him over to inspect the bite mark. Jack's cursing him out and shivering, goosebumps all over from the icy water, and Nico just absent-mindedly wraps him up as he traces his fingers over the bumpy skin.

How was this possible? The infectious period is an aggressive one; the shortest Nico's ever seen someone turn after a bite is thirty-four seconds. Nobody's ever made it beyond fifteen hours. Jack couldn't have (shouldn't have) survived it. The thought alone makes Nico's vision grey out at the edges.

"I don't know how to explain it," Jack tells him, hushed and shaking. Nico's shaking as well, fingers so tight around the other man his knuckles have turned white. "All I know is--I blacked out after getting bitten that time my crew was ambushed in Philly two years ago. I thought I was done for. But I woke up and the bite just--healed over. Nothing happened. None of the bioscanners ever picked anything up. I sent my blood secretly up to the labs in Niagara and they said--they said I might have immunity."

And all the dots connect in Nico's head in one swift, terrible moment of realization.

"No. No. You are not giving yourself up as--as a lab rat. No, Jack, you can't do that--you don't know what they'll do to you--is there even a payload to deliver for this trip? Or is that case just an empty prop?"

Jack's silence is damning. Nico thinks he's going to lose his mind.

"You can't tell anyone," Jack rushes to say, his voice a harsh, desperate whisper. "Seriously. Even them." (And Nico knows he's talking about Luke and Quinn, which, this explains why Jack didn't want them to come at all, fuck.) "The labs held up their end of the deal and delivered half of the rations and medicine I negotiated for the Jersey compound. They'll get the other half when I show up. This might be our only fuckin' chance at peace, Nico. This might be all we ever get."

"Then I'm staying with you," Nico answers, stubborn. He doesn't care, Jack can resist all he wants, but lab staff is going to have to drag him out as a corpse if they think he's going to leave Jack at their mercy. "I'm not letting you go alone, Jack. That's final."

send me a jacknico prompt!