#it fought me long and hard but I won dammit!

[thegamingcatmom]

How would Tanya apologize when she's having an argument with you (and she's the one in the wrong)? How do you know if she's buying something to just apologize or when she really means it? 😏

Heya 😏!

That´s an interesting question! I assume you mean whether or not she´s buying something just to "shut you up" (more like get her sex life back), or if she really means to apologize - without any ulterior motives?

Right so, despite being quite the horndog, I don´t think she´d ever buy you something just to "shut you up" or because she´s only got her own interests in mind. For one, she knows that sort of thing would never work with you. If anything, it´d only serve to make you even angrier with her. You cannot be bought, and that´s something she loves about you.

But also, that sort of thing is just beneath her, yknow? Trying to buy your love and affection. None of the sisters would do that, actually. If any of them do buy you something, it´s because they want to show you how much they love and appreciate you. Why wait for Valentine's Day when every day is one for celebration?

So, when Tanya apologizes, she´ll be most genuine about it. She´s a woman of words and actions, rather than tangible items. And she´s so very good with them...

"Forgive me, my love..."

She´ll look deep into your eyes as she slowly "works her way up", so to speak. She´ll test the waters first by grabbing your hands, then she´ll move them up your arms when it´s clear you´re receptive to it. She´ll step closer to you, gaze still locked firmly onto yours, until your foreheads are touching, your noses rubbing together. She´ll sneak her arms around your middle, and then she´ll start swaying to a music only perceivable by the two of you. Her nose will trail along your cheek, down your neck - breathing you in. She´ll plant a kiss there, so very tenderly. Then another. And another. And another. And-

She´ll move back up your neck, along your cheek - leaving kisses everywhere - until she reaches the corner of your mouth, where she´ll plant another kiss. And another. And another. And-

Soon, she´ll be peppering kisses all over your face, and the smile you´ve fought so hard to hold back will light up your whole face. In fact, before long, you´ll both be breaking out in hearty laughter, before you share the softest of kisses.

She´ll pull back a bit to look at you, her golden eyes alight with the undying love she feels for you.

"Does that mean I am forgiven?"

*Sighs*

"...I guess."

Now, that won´t do.

Fingers start wiggling at your sides, trailing up and down until you´re howling with laughter. Which, in turn, makes her laugh as well.

It is only when you beg her to stop, that she relents...very reluctantly.

You collapse against her, out of breath, and gaze into her beautiful eyes that look at you with so much love. Your fingers start trailing over her marble cheek, in awe of her perfect skin, until Tanya takes hold of them, planting more kisses there.

"...Love you," you finally relent.

The radiant smile you receive in return takes your breath away. It always does.

"And I you, my love. So very much."

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

God dammit, Tanya always gotta be such a charmer.

I´m not crying you´re crying.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[skyywalkerfen]

Can I prompt you, lovely, since you’re so fucking good at these? How about combining QuiObi #7: routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing and #9: a little kiss, pulling back, only to go back in for a passionate one? Pretty please?

to meggory84, in honor of her special day, and because she asked. :-D  Enjoy.

“Kissing For The Clueless” (Jedi Knight Edition)

It��s their eighteenth standard day here on Lysstern, and Obi-Wan is not precisely sure just how much more he can take.

It’s the little things that are killing him.  The soft looks, the gentle touches, the nearness – Force, the nearness.  Obi-Wan had spent more than a decade living with Qui-Gon Jinn, but he’s pretty sure it was never as bad as this is now.  Of course he’s been out on his own as a Knight for the last two years, so it’s possible that his memory isn’t – no.  No, that’s not it.

It never was this bad.

Qui-Gon is close to him now; so very, very close.  Not the closeness of teacher and student, of teaching master and the padawan being taught, but the closeness of – intimates.  Lovers.

Which is what the two of them are, of course, to their hosts and the rest of the city, because that’s what this mission demands of them: that they be a couple, devoted lovers, older man and younger, as this culture’s norms expect.

Obi-Wan isn’t inexperienced, exactly.  He’s had a few sexual partners over the years, and even one he’d call a lover.  He knew how lovers behaved, he’d have no trouble simulating a relationship, certainly, with the man he’d wanted in truth since he’d been sixteen.  He’d thought he was ready.  

He’d thought wrong.  

And it’s killing him by the tiniest, most exquisitely painful increments possible.

Qui-Gon has finished his first-meal when Obi-Wan comes into the common eating room, but not by much.  The man is still sitting at his accustomed end of the long table, used dishes pushed aside, data-padd in one big hand and cup in the other.  Which means who-ever else had been eating must have just left.  Reading while eating is something the Lyssterians consider quite rude, certainly when one has company.  

Calm, Obi-Wan counsels himself, as he walks across the common room toward his old master.  Calm.  

They are sharing a sleeping room, of course, and in that room there is only one bed.  

Of course.  

Obi-Wan has been taking cold water-showers in the mornings ever since the fourth one, when he’d woken up wrapped around Qui-Gon like the man was the galaxy’s best pillow, morning erection snuggled perilously close to the cleft of Qui-Gon’s arse.  

How he got himself unwrapped and out of the bed without waking Qui-Gon, he still doesn’t know.  And if Qui-Gon has any inkling that his former padawan had been humping him in their sleep, he hasn’t let on.

But.

For the last ten-day now, Qui-Gon’s been – different.  Not upset, but distracted, perhaps, as though something had dropped a pebble into the pool of that deep-Force-calm that’s as much a part of him as his blue eyes and crooked nose.  It’s a situation Obi-Wan has seen/felt a few times before, when there is something deeply disturbing that Qui-Gon is considering.

Obi-Wan has a rather horrible, sinking-deep feeling that he knows what that pebble was.

“Good morning, Qui,” he says as he reaches the table, which is between him and the counter with the kaffin-pot, kashmeal in its warmer, and the thrice-blessed hot water for tea.

“Good morning,” Qui-Gon rumbles in return, and tilts his head for the obligatory morning-greeting kiss.  There’s no one in the room to witness the lapse if they don’t, but Obi-Wan is loathe to give up any moments of contact, painful as they may be, and the memories they make.

They could well be the only moments he will have.

Obi-Wan leans down and brushes his mouth against Qui-Gon’s cheek, feeling beard-bristle tickle, coarsely soft, against his lips.  Trying not to inhale the smell of the man because he doesn’t want to be needing another cool shower this early in the day.  

But Qui-Gon seems – elsewhere, his attention never really straying from the padd in his hand.  He doesn’t even meet Obi-Wan’s eyes.

The sinking-deep feeling in Obi-Wan’s gut, sinks deeper.

The meal is awkward, to say the least.  After Obi-Wan’s two conversational gambits meet only with what response is necessary and no more, he retreats into his kashmeal and tea and absolutely does not panic.  It wouldn’t help anyway.

He gives up on the cereal when it becomes clear that his stomach is less than pleased.  The tea is a solace, though, and Obi-Wan is contemplating its dark depths when Qui-Gon shifts back from the table.  

“Not hungry this morning?”

Paying more attention than had been apparent, evidently.  “First-meal is still a hit and miss thing for me, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan says, grabbing the sudden conversational life-ring, “for all that you were sure I’d grow out of that.  But their tea leaf is lovely; certainly a variety to infiltrate the Order’s commissary with.”

“Indeed.”  But Qui-Gon is looking at him now, deep ocean gaze beloved and intense, peeling back the mature Jedi Knight layers to the small, squirmy Obi-Wan within, the way Qui-Gon’s always been able to do, intentionally or not.

And that is, quite suddenly, too much.  

“I think I will take a walk,” Obi-Wan blurts out, rising from his chair in a motion that does not, Force-willing, look as uncontrolled as it actually is, because he really must move now or twitch out of his skin.  “As we have no obligations to our hosts, for the first time, until tomorrow.”

Qui-Gon’s still looking at him.  “It would be time better spent discussing the mission and making plans for next week.”

Would it, now? Obi-Wan thinks, stung.  And just as suddenly things reverse, and now it’s more than easy to stand still and meet – and hold – those blue eyes.  “It would be better if I were better able to sit down for the discussion.  An unexercised padawan is a twitchy one, is how you always put it, as I recall?”

“You’re no longer a padawan.”

“You’re correct,” Obi-Wan says, and lets his diction pop on the final ‘t.’  “I’m not.”

Something shifts beneath the ocean surface and then – to Obi-Wan’s shock – the older man drops his gaze.  “I know,” Qui-Gon says at last, softly, and there’s something in his rich voice, maybe several somethings, that Obi-Wan can’t parse past his own surprise.  “I am – very much aware of that.”

Now Obi-Wan isn’t at all sure he wants to leave, but he doesn’t see how, exactly, to stay.  He takes his dishes and Qui-Gon’s as well to the counter sink and rinses them before putting them in the sanitizer, but the delaying tactic brings no enlightenment.  Out of excuses, he turns back to the table.

Qui-Gon has put his hands together palm to palm and rested them on the table-top, and is looking either at them or at the grain of the bassha-wood, Obi-Wan can’t tell.  It’s a posture Obi-Wan’s never seen his master take before.  

He walks back to Qui-Gon’s side.  “I’ll have my comm, of course,” because he’s run out of the words he should say and the other words, the ones he wants to say, he can’t.  

He lays his hand lightly on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, one of the signals they’d agreed upon at the beginning of the mission, to warn of a coming kiss or other more intimate touch.  This time Obi-Wan nearly starts – the broad shoulder beneath tabard and tunics is like durasteel.  “Qui-Gon?”

Qui-Gon looks up and the light catches in his eyes, unfathomable.  “Obi-Wan,” he says.  He turns in his seat and reaches up to take Obi-Wan’s hand, half-swallowing it in his larger one.  The calluses on  his palm and fingers are hard and familiar.  These are the hands that have touched Obi-Wan for half of his lifetime; the hands that have meant belonging and guidance, comfort and friendship, Master.  Love.

The expression on Qui-Gon’s face though, that is not familiar at all, and it starts a curious tingle in Obi-Wan’s stomach.  “Qui-Gon, what is it?”

“May I kiss you, Obi-Wan?”

May you what?!  

Obi-Wan freezes in place, except for his mouth which drops open as the curious tingle explodes into a swarm of hot stingflies, fluttering madly around his abdomen, every one of them shrieking a giddy confused ecstatic “YESYESYES!”  But –

“You have been kissing me,” is what he hears himself whisper, completely without his brain’s input or permission.

Whatever Qui-Gon sees on his face, it’s apparently encouraging, because his grip on Obi-Wan’s hand tightens.  “Not as I have wanted to.”

He pulls gently, asking, and despite his daze Obi-Wan answers, as he has for so much of his life when this man has asked.  Yes.

Qui-Gon urges him close and kisses him.

It’s warm and soft, no more than a delicate pressure, the tickle of hair mingling with the dry of slightly chapped lips.  Nothing they have not already done, but nothing at all that they have ever done before.  Deliberate.  Sweetness layered over something new, that Qui-Gon is either letting Obi-Wan feel for the first time or that has finally escaped the Master’s control: a sense of deep, visceral want that trembles, even leashed beneath adamantine shields and iron will.

Qui-Gon kisses him, and lets him go.

It’s a lightning strike, and the nimbus glows violet-white at the edges of Obi-Wan’s vision when he pries his eyes open.  He blinks down at Qui-Gon’s face, so close, so open, full of everything that fills up Obi-Wan’s own chest that he can’t breathe.

Breathing’s overrated.

He kisses Qui-Gon this time, sinks his free hand into the thick hair at the back of Qui-Gon’s head and kisses him hard.  Qui-Gon’s mouth opens under his and Obi-Wan plunges in, drowning eagerly, discovering tea and sweetener and something indescribable that is only Qui-Gon.  The years of hopeful longing and hopeless love surge up and Obi-Wan lets them go, lets them wash out into the Force between them, because if he’s mistaken, if this isn’t what Qui-Gon truly wants –

Qui-Gon gasps against his mouth, and one big hand comes around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and pulls him impossibly closer.

Eventually the breathing thing truly does become necessary and Obi-Wan breaks away, but only to pepper Qui-Gon’s face with urgent little kisses, cheekbones, proud nose, closed eyelids, before resting his forehead again Qui-Gon’s.  They’re both panting, Qui-Gon’s breath a moist brush across Obi-Wan’s face, a little sour, and how he’s lived this long without it, Obi-Wan has no clue.  “I love you.”

Qui-Gon swallows, loud in the tiny space between them.  “I love you, too,” he says.  

A faint hint of that same tremble colors his deep voice and it’s quite, quite possible that Obi-Wan’s heart is going to stop from sheer joy.  “H-how long?” he asks, not knowing he’s asking until the words are out.

A faint snort.  “Years,” Qui-Gon murmurs.  “Before you were knighted.”

Truly?  But –   “You never – ”  And it’s Obi-Wan’s turn to swallow.  “It’s been two years, Master; is there some sort of waiting period that no-one talks about?”

A louder snort this time and a wash of humor, as Qui-Gon moves away enough that Obi-Wan can see him clearly.  “That’s why, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan wrinkles his brow in question.

“I was part of the equation of your life, dear one; perhaps too big of a part,” Qui-Gon says, and shakes his head when Obi-Wan opens his mouth.  “You needed to be Knight Kenobi, not Padawan to Master Jinn.  You needed to be your own person; to know who you are without me.  Anything else would have been to betray you in the worst fashion.”  Qui-Gon’s hand moves, thumb caressing the tender skin beneath Obi-Wan’s ear in a most distracting fashion.  “And I needed to know, to be sure, that you know.”

Wonderful, marvelous, utterly exasperating man.  Obi-Wan’s mouth pulls up at one corner.  “I’ll sign a form if you’d like.”

The skin around Qui-Gon’s eyes crinkles.  “Your word has always been enough.”

And how is Obi-Wan supposed to remain composed with Qui-Gon saying things like that?  

He untangles them and steps back, only to take Qui-Gon’s hand again and urge him to his feet.  “I’ve changed my plans for the day.  There’s a bed in our room that I most sadly neglected to put to rights, and I believe that requires prompt attention.”

“I thought you intended to get some exercise,” Qui-Gon says.

There’s no mistaking the undertones and Force-wash of teasing and desire, and Obi-Wan grins.  “Oh, I do.”

*

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Tik Tok Leggings

Masterlist

Summary: Time to test these Tik tok leggings.

Warnings: swearing, Fluff, Cheeky Henry, Suggestive Themes, Plus sized reader

A/N: Just wanted to do something different thinking of maybe having a mini TikTok onshot series but unsure yet. Either way I hope you enjoy and happy Easter to those who celebrate  and those who don't? Have a brilliant Sunday xx

Taglist: will be in comment/reblogs

You eyed the package wearily... just how the fuck were you meant to pull this off? Slowly but surely the confidence  and 'fuck it' attitude was waning. They looked small.... very small.

You huffed a sigh looking at yourself in the mirror eyeing your form. You swear you'd gained some more weight, just a few pounds maybe? But you felt huge. Slowly you unravelled the leggings, it had been a good idea at the time but now you wasn't so sure. They were expensive and even thought you bought them as a little prank you did hope they would boost you confidence or at least be comfy enough to wear around the house.

Being a larger girl it was hard finding comfy clothes and you had to be comfy now that your boys were running around the house like headless chickens. You thought the terrible twos with trainers were bad? Your four year olds had scooters!

You grit your teeth and decided to try the leggings on gearing up for an all put war with the waist band but was pleasantly surprized. The fabric was firm and tummy controlling without feeling you feeling caught by a bloody boa constrictor! A comfy tight not spandex tight. You casually wondered about seeing if the company did bras, this shit would stop the girls from trying to knock you out on the stairs!

You pulled the material setting the... elasticated seam in your ass crack and winced... Okay that's a little strange... but not unpleasant and almost thong. You spun around eyeing yourself in to mirror. You didn't look to bad, if you said so yourself. Sure you wasn't magically strim and fit, you were blessed with a nice thick ass... but unfortunately had the thick hips and large thighs to go with it. You'd never be petite or dainty, but then again henry was huge behemoth of a man so you didn't need to be. As he said on many occasions he wanted a woman as thick as him... and you definitely fit that bill. His thighs were only slightly bigger then yours.

You turned around a few more times. Fuck okay hello there~ you grinned. You may not be the perfect sized woman but fuck if your ass wasn't glorious in these leggings~ this just might work.

You grinned and pulled on one of Henry's tshirts, the grey marines one it was snug and would ride up a little over your tummy showing off your bubble but that you felt was your best feature. And then padded downstairs, henry. Was in the large garden trying to teach the boys how to play rugby... Wanting to start them young.

You pottered about the kitchen chopping up the salad for tonight. Contrary to what people thought you were not large because you ate to much or did little exercise, you had always been bigger and admittedly since having the boys you had gained a little more weight but not ridiculously, you wasn't dangerously over weight.

You hummed looking out the patio door seeing henry jumping for joy as his boys and Kal played 'rugby' darting across the garden to the tiny rugby post at the end. Moving to Jersey to raise the kids was a brilliant idea, you had a huge country house with the land to go with it. Flat and immaculate that spread around the house in nearly four acres the lawn was mostly to the back and side and cornered off with tall hedge rows then beyond it a cornered off veggie plot and greenhouse and a work in progress chicken coop. Soon there will be a decent sized pond and some ducks... Henry didn't know yet, but if he was allowed to have a stables built four god knows how many horses you were allowed your ducks god dammit.

You grinned watching as henry ran around both the boys with his phone out cheering them on as they tor across the garden wrestling each other for the ball. You had panicked when you were told twin boys but you should have known henry would be able to handle it. It was perfect, days like this when he was home and strived to make his sons lives as magical and fun as he could, everyday was a holiday when dad was home.

You shook your head seeing the boys both lay on the floor in the shade completely tuckered out from the mornings fun. Henry can into the kitchen and you held your breath quickly bending over the counter a tad more then normal hoping to get a favourable reaction from your husband. But you couldn't help the tinge of doubt  what if he didn't like them? Or thought you looked bigger then you were?

"Hey sweetheart are the boys fruit shoots in the fri-oh sweet baby Jesus" he coughed cutting himself off  and took a half step back as he came in the kitchen. You giggled and turned to him then nodded your head to the fridge.

"Yeah their in there love" you said smirking and blushing as you saw him eyeing your ass tilting his head slowly down trying to get a better look at your ass making you bite your lip.

"Err yeah yeah... I... hold that thought" he said snapping out of it holding a finger up at you and looked to his phone.

"You just stay right were you are- no nope over bend over again babe... fuck me how did I get such a sexy little mama~" he growled one hand swiping over his screen. You flushed and wriggled our hips a little as you leant forward feeling on top of the world as he openly gawked at your ass. For a second you thought he was taking a photo and made to move wanting to snap up right but he napped his fingers to you pointing for you to get back down and brought the phone to his ear.

"Henry what are you?-" you tried standing once more but he crossed the kitchen pressing himself up against your ass and rocked slowly making you mewl as his bulge pressed against your ass half hard already. Henry huge hand pressed you down on the counter before him and winked then he spoke as who ever was on the phone answered.

"Hey mum, hi can you come get the boys?" He asked and you gasped at him shaking your head at him laughing. He wasn't palming the kids off to their grandparents because he wanted a midday fuck! Not that Marie-Ann would mind, she loved hosting the kids and frequently showed up out of the blue and took them out for the day. She was adamant that both you and henry still had alone time.

"No, no everything's all right I just- somethings come up~" he smirked and you laughed loud shaking your head at him, he was a little bugger! He wriggled his brows at you and nodded then flushed stuttering for a few comments.

"I.. No no of course not mum... muuuum stop- well yeah... yes I know you were young once-oh shit no I didn't mean of course your still young! Your in your prime! Okay yes, yes I promise to try my hardest... yes okay, see you in ten okay love you bye... bye mum I will. Yes I will mum bye" he muttered slowly moving through being embarrassed, shy and strangely confident before hanging up.

"Soo the boys are going out?" You giggled finding the way he reacted ridiculously cute. It wasn't what you expected, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass. But not him shipping the kids off for the day.

"And staying over night" Henry muttered moving both hands to your ass and squeezed and rolled the cheeks about making you squeak and try rising on your tip toes but he just growled following pressing a kiss to your neck.

"And what have we agreed to for this mighty generous gift? What have you promised?" You said arching back into him with a teasing tone knowing Marie would make henry pay for the 'young once' comment.

"Oh you know nothing too big just another grandchild, which wont be hard with these in your closet" he chuckled pinging the fabric that clung to your ass like a second skin. You flushed gasping out at him batting him away slowly. But it was a hard fought battle, Henry won easily sliding the cutting board back then let you spin to face him. He quickly hoisted you up onto the counter top behind you and kissed your lips moaning into you before pulling back and pointed at you.

"Right you stay- right here. Don't you move a muscle Mrs Cavill" he said seriously and backed away from you still pointing making you laugh and kick your feet biting your lip before nodding. Henry backed up to the back door and called out to the boys.

"Boys come on! Your going to grandmas for a sleep over! Go pack a bag, jammies, tooth brush and clothes for tomorrow! Come on mush hop it or cop it!" he called you smiled hearing two high pitch excited voices squealing at the thought of grandma. She spoilt them rotten. They dashed into the house quickly running past the both of you giggle as henry tried playfully nudging them on the bottoms with his foot when they ran through the kitchen to dart up the stairs and pack an overnight bag. Henry slunk out of the kitchen following the boys but kept glancing back at you.

"Remember right there babe, been too long since we fucked in here~" he growled making you flush remembering the last time you'd made love in here. It'd been when you were pregnant, the day you moved in before you redecorated you'd had Chinese take out and then made love in every room in the house.

"I'll be right here love I promise, now... You might want to sort yourself out before answering the door to your mother~" you teased pointing to the large lump in the front of his shorts making him grunt and cup himself trying to reposition himself and left the kitchen to help the boys pack.

You can safely say, these leggings were a success. You were definitely leaving a five star review... You did however regret not filming his reaction for tiktok. Honestly you didn't even have the app your sister in law had shown you and you thought it'd be something fun to try with Henry. You may just get more than you bargained for though, not that you minded... You just hoped you had a girl this time, it was about time to try and even things out a bit.

[wondersofdreaming]

Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

[whump-a-la-mode]

Gilded Cage - Part 2

Thanks so much to everyone who read and voted on part 1! The votes were very close. In the end, option A won out, with 6 votes, while option B received 4 votes. That means that Villain will tell Journalist the truth.

I received a number of amazing suggestions for this part, based on the questions from last time around. I would like to publish their names to credit them, but I am currently waiting to see if they would like this or not. I’ll edit this post if they give me permission to publish their names.

Edit: @jenny-ruths-writing-blog has given me permission to credit them for their ideas. I would appreciate it a lot if you would give them some love, they’re just starting out.

I hope you enjoy!

CW// Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, implied torture, depiction of a panic attack, scopophobia, mentions of death, mentions of hostage taking

Villain didn’t notice when they fell.

They weren’t even sure that they fell at all. One second, they were on their feet, face stretched into a smile. The next, their knees grew weak, and they were on the ground, a pain growing in the back of their head as though it had been struck.

Their vision blurred as they felt their breathing speed up, paradoxically increasing to such a point that they were no longer taking in sufficient oxygen. They couldn’t feel their hands, or their legs, or... Oh god oh god oh god, where were they? Why couldn’t they breathe?

It was hard to be sure whether the pressure on their shoulders was real, or just another hallucination of an oxygen-starved mind. As the other pains softened into the background, however, that pressure stayed.

There was a noise... where was it coming from?

Was it a voice? Or music? Or just a far away hum of the fluorescent lights? Slowly, slowly, it began to fade closer and closer to reality.

“Hey, hey, oh god, please don’t tell me you’re having a heart attack or something. God dammit, you hit your head, can you hear me?”

The words blended together into a mix of slurring syllables, all spoken with a tone of nerves and concern.

Concern.

They had almost forgotten what that sounded like.

“Please, please say something. You’re not dead, right? That’s not how death works, right? Come on, come on.”

The pressure on their shoulders tensed and loosened in rapid succession, managing to somewhat revive their consciousness. Breaths rapid and shivering, they opened their eyes. Though it took a few seconds for their vision to clear, they still jumped at the face only a few inches from their own.

“Hey, hey. Are you awake? I see you- Your eyes, come on. Are you okay? Please, please be okay.”

Villain’s thoughts swam in their head a moment, a plastic ball drifting about in a fishtank. Their training returned to them faster than their senses, and their empty expression suddenly sprung to one of politely metered cheer.

“I’m just fine, Journalist. I apologize. I must have fallen.”

They shook their head, shaking off as much of the panic as they could. The words had come out on instinct, not out of thought, and Journalist seemed to have noticed.

“You... You fainted. I think? You don’t have a fever, do you?”

One of the hands on their shoulders moved to their forehead, flinching away a moment later.

“You’re cold. Um... is that bad? That’s like, the opposite of a fever, right?”

“‘m okay...” Villain muttered, remembering where their half-numb hands were and using them to right themself into a sitting position on the tiled bathroom floor.

“What happened?”

“It’s... I’m fine.” The words came out dully. It was hard to feel sorrow when feeling emotion at all was nearly impossible.

“Is it this thing?” Again, the hand moved, this time to their neck. A shiver ran up Villain’s spine as fingers ran along the scarred flesh beneath their collar.

They should have been used to being touched, even when in such a state, but for some reason, it was just making them feel worse.

“Please. It’s okay.” They protested. They just wanted to go back to sleep. “Don’t worry yourself.”

“No. No.” Journalist, who seemed to have formerly been in a kneeling position, shifted their legs so that they were sitting criss-cross before Villain. Their breathing slowed, panic turning to concern on their countenance. “If you’re sick, or hurt, or something, I can’t let you go out there and do that interview. It’ll just make you feel worse.”

“I’m not hurt! Or sick.” Their protests grew in volume and intensity as they fought to get to their feet. Their attempts were, however, thwarted, as the feeling in their legs had yet to fully return just yet. “Please. Just drop it.”

Journalist frowned.

“Villain. Tell me what’s going on. Please. We- I can get you to a doctor? We have a van just outside... Fainting out of nowhere isn’t normal.”

Villain blinked a few times, lips ajar. They didn’t know what to do. There was no script for this. They could do ‘how are you,’ they had the response for that well memorized, but ‘are you okay’ ? They didn’t know that one. They’d never been taught that one.

They...

Villain wanted so badly to lie. To smile, perhaps say that they slipped, or that they were narcoleptic, or something. Anything that would get them out of here and back on script.

But...

When would anyone ever ask them again? Ask them what was wrong? Offer to help? With their luck, it would almost certainly be never.

Almost unconsciously, they wrapped their arms around their chest. A comforting hug. The kind that no one had offered them in so long.

“The...” They raised their hand to their neck, curling a finger as far under the metal ring as it would go. “The collar. It’s a collar.”

“A... collar?”

The smile that crept onto their lips was one of sorrow. A sadness so profound that it became funny.

“What did they tell you?” Their self-hug grew tighter.

“What do you mean?”

“About me. How did big, bad villain go from terrorizing the city to, fucking, making television appearances? What was their story?”

“They- I guess they just said you’d seen the error of your ways. That you were a good guy, now.”

That sorrowful smile grew wider.

“I just chose to be good? Is that it?”

“Well, they said they talked to you, there was something about therapy?”

Villain’s smile turned to an audacious laugh.

“Therapy?” They shook their head. “Is that their code word for beating someone into submission?”

“W- What?”

Villain tapped the collar, a hollow noise ringing out.

“Shock collar. 100,000 volts, or something stupid like that. They didn’t fix me. I’m not a good guy. I’m still just as dangerous as I ever was. But now I’m... under control.”

At that, they hung their head.

More gently this time, Journalist again raised their hand to Villain’s neck, placing their finger under the collar. Feeling the burnt flesh.

“You’ve been here- You’ve been in their custody for months.”

“How could I forget?”

“You just... gave up?”

Those words alone were enough to send a pang of nausea through their chest.

“What choice did I have? Anything to make the pain stop. Heroes and Villains... all of them, they’re just as human as anyone else. They feel pain just as much as anyone else. And sometimes, that pain just gets to be too much. Fighting back just isn’t worth it anymore.”

They raised their head, forcing a rehearsed smile back onto their lips.

“But it’s okay. It’s the best way to keep the city safe. Sometimes you have to break a few eggs.”

Journalist’s concern turned to frustration, but whatever words they were about to say were halted by the sound of knocking on the bathroom door.

“Journalist? Are you in there?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re live in ten. We need Villain on the set.”

Their head turned back to Villain, who nodded.

“Okay. We’ll be right out.”

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“Turn your head a little to the right... Raise the chin, little more- Keep going, there! Okay, stop. And look at the camera. Right here, this lens. Sasha, can you go touch up their hair, please?”

Villain struggled not to flinch away from the blindingly bright lights that stared at them in a semi-circle. They sat on a small stool, hands perfectly held together in their lap. Their neck was already cramping from the position they were fighting so hard to maintain.

Stage lights always made the burns on their neck hurt. Hurt worse, that is.

From the bustling area behind the cameras, an assistant appeared, rushing over to Villain and yanking a small, black comb through their already-done hair.

It took all the will they had, and a little more than that, to choke back the tears that desperately wanted to rise in their throat. To scream and shove the stupid, clueless assistant to the ground. So they would stop fucking touching them.

But they didn’t. They sat perfectly still, cheeks aching from their smile.

“We’re live in one!” A screeching voice came from somewhere Villain could not see. The assistant retreated, and the cameraman started up the device that was his namesake.

It was difficult to see behind the blaring lights, but silhouettes that may have been people seemed to be rushing about in a panic, taking position. That shrill voice began to count.

“Thirty...”

“Twenty...”

“Ten...”

‘And we’re live!”

A red light appeared on the camera, and Villain tried not to imagine just how many eyes were on the other side of it. For a terrifying few seconds, they were there, alone, before the world. That was, until footsteps sounded, and someone sat in the chair next to them.

They didn’t dare look. Didn’t dare to turn their head away from the camera, to muss their perfect posture and hair.

“Welcome, everyone, to News at Nine!”

A single bead of sweat formed on their forehead.

They had assumed that Journalist was simply one of the many busybodies that the news crew dragged around with them. Not the reporter.

They could only hope that their gulp couldn’t be seen in the recording.

“As promised, tonight, we have a very special guest. Villain, it’s so good to have you here, tonight.”

“It’s great to be here.”

“Yes. Now, I really wish we could spend some time on niceties, but we have promised our wonderful viewers at home a very special interview, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint, now would we?”

“Of course not.”

“Now, Villain, I’m sure everyone remembers you in your, well, in your villain days. Would you care to explain where you have been since then?”

An expected question. They had a script for this. It flowed from their mouth like water.

“Well, after my capture several months ago, I have been working with and learning from the Heroes of this city. I understand that what I did in my previous occupation was wrong, and since then, I have been working to right the wrongs I have caused. Now, I am an advisor for the Heroes’ Organization. They say to catch a villain, you need to think like one, and, well, I have plenty experience in that field.”

They didn’t take a breath, not the whole time. When they did, after finishing their monologue, it sounded far too much like a sob.

The script was bullshit. They weren’t any kind of advisor. It was a fancy word for prisoner. ‘Advisor’ would imply that they weren’t locked up for 20 or so hours a day, when they weren’t eating or appearing before the cameras. They couldn’t advise the Heroes on anything if they tried. Their very voice was treated as though it was the funniest joke anyone had ever heard.

“And it is your position as an advisor that has led to the events of last night. Is that right?”

“I would say that it played no small part in it, yes.”

What the fuck happened last night?

“That event is what I want to speak to you about today. Our viewers have been very keen to know your thoughts on the matter, so let’s get right into it.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“So, Villain.” Journalist seemed to let their chipper attitude fall in favor of a more relaxed one. “How did you feel, exactly, when you first heard about Supervillain’s death?”

They wanted to throw up.

The Heroes did not allow them access to any outside news, but could they at the very least have said something? Anything?

Anything?

Keep to the script. Keep to the script. Keep to the script.

But they didn’t have one.

They swallowed.

“Um... I- I felt... Uh...”

The collar felt to be tightening around their windpipe.

“It’s okay. Do you need a moment?”

“No, no. I apologize.” Villain shook their head. “It’s just so shocking, to hear it said so plainly, like that. When I first heard the news, I have to say, I felt... conflicted. Certainly, it’s a good thing. But at the same time, I worry about what their absence will mean for the other villains in this city.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I suppose I’m afraid of a power vacuum forming. Or that the other villains will attempt to act out in vengeance, of a sort.”

“That’s understandable. Did you know Supervillain personally, at all?”

Of course they did. Everyone did. Every villain, at least. Their organization was informal, but entirely centered on Supervillain. If a villain was seriously hurt, or worse, Supervillain was there for them.

Some called them mother.

“I wouldn’t say I knew them personally. I met them, a few times, but they were always very distant. Not to mention that they were a bit terrifying.”

Behind the camera, Villain spotted a form appear. One of a very familiar stature, and wearing a very familiar cape.

“I’m sure they were. I’ve never met them in person, but even just on TV... that’s scary in its own right.”

No. It wasn’t. Supervillain wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not unless they were acting in self defense. Hell, they made sure their hostages all got lunch, for gods sake.

Villain nodded.

“It is scary.”

“On that note, do you believe that the city will be safer, now, with Supervillain gone?”

Two more figures. Two more capes.

“I do. Even with the possibility of a power vacuum or avenging attacks, ultimately, this will be a good thing for our city. Anything to keep those at home safe.”

“Of course.” Journalist paused a moment. “I understand that some villains have already made announcements decrying the actions of Hero. Do you believe that they were right in their decision to kill Supervillain?”

Villain gulped.

Behind the camera, Hero joined their comrades. Their gaze pointed directly at their prey, sitting beneath the blazing stage lights.

“No. I don’t believe that Hero was right.”

The words made their mouth feel numb.

“Supervillain was dangerous, yes. But there is a difference between stopping someone from causing harm and ending their life outright. Had it been me, I wouldn’t have committed a murder.”

The cameraman raised his eyebrows.

Even in silhouette, Villain could see Hero clench their fists.

“That’s a very interesting take on the matter, and that seems to be the stance that many others, villain and citizen alike, have been taking. I believe that’s all the questions I have for you, today.”

Journalist’s gaze turned to the camera.

“After a word from our sponsors, the weather! It’s gonna be a scorcher this week, folks. And don’t forget to stick around for the reveal of the new fashion line: Be Your Own Hero. Thanks, everyone!”

The little red light on the camera blinked off. Villain felt about to puke.

Finally, finally, they felt able to move their neck. The cramps were bad enough that doing so hurt terribly, filling their muscles with pins and needles. They stood as the stage lights flicked off, one by one.

Revealing, in full detail, the Heroes.

Most of them looked various degrees of concerned or frustrated. That was, all except Hero themself. Their face was twisted in a horrid mask of pure, unadulterated fury.

Villain felt their legs lock up, as if staying on set would protect them. Already they couldn’t breathe. They wanted to gasp for air, but the collar was crushing them, choking them, and they wanted to cry. Oh god, the tears were already beading in their eyes. They swallowed them, but more threatened to well up, to take their place.

A pressure on their shoulder nearly made them jump. Only their eyes would move, all else locked up, but they could see well enough to locate what was touching them.

Journalist.

Their face a mask of concern. Panic, concern, and worry.

They dropped their hand, stepping back as Hero practically stomped over to Villain. Their face had turned to the brightest smile, but that did nothing to diminish the rage in their eyes.

“Villain, good job on the interview. That must have been a difficult one.”

“A little difficult, yeah.”

“Well, good on you for getting through it. If you wouldn’t mind, let’s go back to my office for a minute. Just to have a little chat.”

Villain paled.

They knew full well that Hero didn’t have an office. What they did have was a sound proofed room with a very specific purpose.

That pressure on Villain’s shoulder returned. Journalist’s hand.

“Well? Are you coming, or not?”

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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!

There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. Alongside each option is a question specifying what exactly will happen. Answering this question is completely optional, but it is great if you have any particular ideas! Otherwise, feel free to just put a letter.

To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!

I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes, and will choose whichever answer I find the most interesting to base the next part upon.

The choices and questions for this part are as follows:

A) Go with Hero - What should Journalist do?

B) Refuse - How should Villain try to get out of it?

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^

[bard-llama]

The Taint of the Common Man (Meve/Reynard/Gascon)

Okay, so I finally tried to play Thronebreaker again and it turned out that my comptuer/steam/whatever had actually kept my save!!! So I didn’t have to start over, which was good, because the beginning was kinda boring, which is why it took me so long to continue. But it’s also kinda bad, because now I do not remember anything about Gascon’s introduction beyond “they fought, Meve won and threatened to hang him next time”. Which like... I could probably make it work, but knowing the details seems important for writing Meve’s feelings and reactions to Gascon. 

Anyway, this is a continuation of the thoughts that this lovely post inspired, and because I’m me, those thoughts grew a plot. Both the link and the rest of the story involve a VERY dubcon/noncon premise, so please engage only if you can. Also, spoilers for Chapter 1 of Thronebreaker (aka major plot things that happen once you reach Lyria’s capital).

Okay, once again: HUGE WARNING for Dubcon/Noncon stuff. Like, it’s how the story starts and it’s gonna be something dealt with through the whole story. My idea is basically a story that starts with Meve losing EVERYTHING, and then, through her quest to reclaim her throne, she learns how to be a better queen to ALL of her people, not just the noblemen. End game is intended to be Meve/Reynard/Gascon, but tbh, idk how they get there. Like, at first, Meve and Reynard hate Gascon A LOT, so they have to learn to love him and that takes time.

I’m kinda still learning about these characters as I think this through, so apologies if you find them ooc or if I contradict canon (without meaning to. Sometimes i do it gladly lol)

So we start with Meve returning to the Lyrian castle, only to find that her son and the Council of Peers (read: ruling council that advises the monarch and consists entirely of peerage aka nobility) have betrayed her and surrendered to Nilfgaard. She’s thrown in a dungeon and though her son orders that she is not to be harmed, she knows enough about reality to know they’d never let her live. 

She’s on guard, waiting for the guards to come and kill her - only when footsteps approach, it’s not the guards at all, but the fucking Duke of Dogs, the leader of the Strays of Spalla, a gang of bandits that plague merchant caravans and noblemen alike. Gascon, the proclaimed Duke of Dogs, opens the cell door and steps in and tells Meve that he’s freeing her, because the Council of Peers used him and his men and he can’t abide betrayal. But there’s one condition - Meve has to ask him, all nice and polite-like.

Meve, of course, refuses, because she’s nothing if not prideful. So Gascon closes the cell door and leans back against it and says something like, “guess we won’t be leaving, then. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to do something else on your knees,” or some sort of implication like that that makes it clear he’s suggesting that she blow him in exchange for release. And Meve is furious and her pride cuts at her, but dammit, she has no hope of freeing Lyria from Nilfgaard’s grasp while stuck in here. So she goes to her knees. And Gascon is surprised - from his view, she could’ve just begged him??? - but like... the QUEEN is on her KNEES for HIM, a (decidedly un)common bandit who she’d threatened to hang not a week prior. 

Also, I think there’s also a part of Gascon that blames Meve for the massacre of his family. According to the wiki, the year before King Reginald (Meve’s husband) died, Gascon’s family revolted against the king and were soundly squashed, with Gascon at a mere 8 years old the only one to survive. From there, he fell in with the Strays of Spalla and eventually became their leader. Remember this bit, ‘cause I’m definitely gonna come back to it. But anyway, Gascon doesn’t like Meve. He’s doing this because it’s the right thing to do and a little because having the queen indebted to him feels awfully good. Also, Meve is good with her mouth.

So good, in fact, that she drives him crazy, taking him to the edge and teasing him and teasing him and teasing him until his legs are shaking and the cell door is all that’s holding him up. I don’t think he actually begs, because his men are around the cell watching this, but he has to bite his lip hard to keep from doing so.

For Meve, there are many complicated feelings happening. On the one hand, this is humiliating and degrading and it’s shameful that she’s fallen so far as to be forced to service a fucking bandit and even worse that his men are SEEING this happen.

On the other hand... look, Meve was widowed 8 years ago. Somewhere in there (or before?), she comes to love and trust Reynard - who her husband, upon his deathbed, told her that he alone could be trusted. But she hasn’t made a move, because it wouldn’t be appropriate and she doesn’t want to ruin things between them. 

Point is, it’s been 8 years since she’s had sex and she has had cause to desire some sex. Queens can probably get amazing sex toys, but like, an actual cock? it’s been AGES since she’s been able to play with one and she kind of missed it. 

Additionally, in an effort to combat her shame and humiliation, she decides to flip the script on them. Gascon wants her to blow him? Fine, she’ll blow him so well that he utterly falls apart. And maybe she’s a little of practice, but Gascon is young anyway, he probably doesn’t even know better lmao. (But later, she’s oddly grateful that she had this chance for ‘practice’ before it actually mattered)

Eventually, she lets Gascon come - or maybe he uses his grip on her hair to pull her onto him? (She may decide to make it a good blowjob, but that doesn’t mean he’s earned deepthroating) - and the Strays, who have gone from hooting and hollering over the queen’s humiliation to flushed and aroused at the skillful way she destroyed their boss, let them out of the cell. 

Next, they go to the city jail to release Reynard, who was arrested as soon as the coup happened because everyone knows that Reynard’s loyalty to the crown is absolute. Reynard is sitting against the wall and he smiles brightly at the sight of her, so Meve strides into the cell to unshackle him. So of course Gascon, who now stands in front of the door once more, suggests something like, “such faithful loyalty deserves ample reward, does it not?”

And Meve is conflicted. Because AGAIN, the Strays of Spalla are watching them and Gascon is trying elicit sexual favours from her. But also, it’s Reynard. She’s wondered for so long what Reynard’s cock would be like and how he would treat her. And, she justifies to herself, she was already forced to give a piece of filth like Gascon a blowjob. Reynard most certainly deserved better.

So she orders him to stand and goes to her knees and is almost eager to get him in her mouth. And Reynard is caught entirely off guard here, because he was ready to skewer Gascon for the mere suggestion, and then she’s ACTUALLY DOING IT!!! And it’s not like she’s alone in having thought about it, but he always assumed that he would be the one on his knees. So for her to do so... he’s awed and a little horrified that he is party to degrading his queen in this way. And also aroused. REALLY fucking aroused, because Meve is on her knees for him! And unlike Gascon, he has earned deepthroating. Fortunately, he’s already leaning against the wall, so he doesn’t collapse. 

If Gascon hadn’t had the most intense orgasm of his life like 10 minutes previously, he’d definitely try to see if he could join in, even though they really don’t have the time for that sort of thing. But suffice it to say, Gascon remembers each and every moment Meve spent on her knees vividly.

Reynard comes (and Gascon is reluctantly pleased to have a companion in the wait-you-want-me-to-fight-after-how-hard-I-came!? club) and they all leave the dungeons - and get found by a patrol of guards. They have to fight their way out and Meve thinks Gascon managed to slip away - right up until he comes to their aid with his whole crew. With Gascon’s help, their motley crew flees the capital of Lyria (largely by traveling thru the sewers).

That night, they set up camp somewhere and instead of the royal supplies she’s used to, all they have is whatever the Strays of Spalla had, which means stolen and/or threadbare, ‘cause they’re not exactly living the high life. And Meve knows she should get some rest, but she can’t stop thinking about what happened in the prison(s) and she decides that, as long as Reynard was willing, why shouldn’t she pursue the man she loved? 

So she goes to the mess tent and it’s predictably full of drunken soldiers - well, drunken warriors. This rabble didn’t deserve to be called soldiers - and clusters of people playing dice and cards. She spots Reynard at one of the card tables - but sitting across from him is none other than the motherfucking Duke of Dogs. Half-formed plans to kiss Reynard drown under the flood of fury she feels and she summons Reynard to her, ignoring Gascon, who definitely tries to flirt with her. At this moment, she has VERY conflicted feelings about Gascon and most of them are negative. But also, they need him. She is very much aware that his men are the only reason she has any chance at all of taking back her home.

Anyway, Meve confronts Reynard, who explains that he doesn’t trust Gascon as far as he can throw him and whatever mischief Gascon is up to, whatever he thinks he can gain from helping them, Reynard is ready for the doublecross. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer is very much his philosophy, compounded by the way he has learned not to reveal - well, much at all. People probably find him very... is softspoken the word? Not like he speaks soft, but like, he doesn’t say a lot. He learned to keep his mouth shut after he managed to survive insulting the king, so he plays things pretty close to his chest and people find it hard to guess what he’s thinking. 

Gascon, for his part, is helping Meve because it’s the right thing to do (and a little because again, queen indebted to you? Very handy). He’s probably aware that Reynard doesn’t like him, even if Reynard acts friendly enough? Like, literally Reynard is so loyal to Meve that he was imprisoned and she was sure of his fealty. And Gascon has found ways to rationalize what he did i.e. raping Meve - she could’ve just begged! She had a choice! - but even though Reynard got a blowjob out of it, I’m sure Gascon would assume that Reynard would want him dead for the blowjob that he got.

I don’t precisely know what Reynard and Gascon’s relationship is like during this, tbh. I think it’ll be Meve’s POV, so she may have a limited view, but I think it’s definitely complicated. Made worse, of course, by both Meve and Reynard beginning to see the redeeming qualities in Gascon. But that comes later.

For now, Meve accepts Reynard’s explanation and knowing that he would do anything to protect her soothes some of the ruffled feathers from a very trying day. So she decides to subtly ask him something like, “come to my tent?” that like, isn’t blatant ‘cause they’re surrounded by drunk men, but also is pretty clear. And Reynard’s eyes widen and it hurts so much to do, but he tells her no. She’s had an intense fucking day - betrayed by her son and court, imprisoned, forced to give multiple blowjobs and work with lowly bandits and shit. Like, she’s been through a lot and he knows that she’s not able to be in her right mind. So he says no, part of him hoping that if she actually means it, she’ll try again in the morning.

But what Meve hears is no, not interested. Which makes this the third time today that she gets to be humiliated in front of the fucking Strays of Spalla, because not only is the man she loves rejecting her, but like... is he rejecting her because she’s tainted now? How is she supposed to interpret him enjoying a blowjob from her one hour and rejecting her advances the next? 

And the taint... I think that’ll be a theme in this fic (thus the title). Like, at the height of her power before the fall, Meve was “pure” - which in this case means firmly assured that she was right in everything, as she was always destined to be. There’s no questioning of the world order or if she’s qualified to lead. She simply knows that she is.

But now she’s been betrayed, her nobility and her title ripped from her grasp. And not only that, but she’s demeaned herself with a common thug! She even says it in the game - “look how far we’ve fallen, to be surrounded by peasants and deserters and bandits”. For her, this entire situation is almost like “being common” is reaching for her, trying to pull her in, and she wants to resist, because she’s always been taught that the nobles are BETTER than the common people. But as she works with her army of thugs and commoners, she starts to learn that poor people are people too (gee, who’da thunk it?)

That journey takes time, though, and we’re barely at the start of it! 

So, Meve gets rejected. She’s hurt and humiliated and at the moment doesn’t have a kind word for ANYBODY. She maybe cries herself to sleep and hates herself for being weak.

Then morning comes and she has her regular strategy meeting with Reynard, as she did every morning. And it’s awkward and Reynard is as silent as usual, always so deliberate about every word that leaves his mouth. And she wants to ask, but yesterday’s humiliation was enough. She can’t repeat it.

So even though they SHOULD’VE gotten together, they fail to, because Meve is stubborn and prideful and Reynard is closelipped and proper. And Meve kind of hates even the sight of Gascon, but since he IS the leader of the army that is currently only at her disposal because of him, she invites him to join the strategy meetings every morning. If Gascon helps provide a buffer between her and Reynard, so much the better.

Okay, I don’t actually know how everyone ACTUALLY gets together, BUT as they travel through the countryside of Lyria towards the Aedirnian border, a couple of important things happen.

1) Meve sees the real conditions of the people living in her realm. Even in areas that the lords had reported prosperous, people were starving and dying. She starts to learn that these are her people too.

2) Meve and Reynard get to know Gascon. Not just over their strategy meetings, but as they observe him and the Strays of Spalla they (Meve especially) begin to realize that their judgements were all wrong. Because yes, the Strays of Spalla are bandits. They steal from wealthy merchants and even wealthier nobles. That had always been enough to know before.

But now they come to know that that stolen food and blankets and supplies and coin went to the starving peasants in these lands. Hell, most of the Strays are from these areas. These are their people, even if Meve hasn’t figured out that they’re hers too.

Anyway, idk how they get together or how the story ends - is it with them getting together? Getting to Vengerberg to ask for help to reclaim their home? Ousting Villem and taking Lyria back? idk, I haven’t even gotten that far in the game yet lol.

So yeah, here’s a very long synopsis of a story that manages to have almost no porn and lots of angst, despite being inspired by a purely porny post lmao.

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 253, Replies Part 1

1) “Oh no. This ain`t good. The following chapter didn`t had a name on the folder left by my sister. Oh boy this definitely ain`t good, I know what this type of shit means, I remember the last times we had chapters that I couldn`t know the tittle.

Well, I suppose there`s nothing to do but jump in the pit of despair that is to follow. Follow me, into Chapter 252, and together we shall find the light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully it won`t be the oncoming train.”- Good idea to trust your first instinct, shame it couldn’t protect you from the revelation we’ve been building up for months towards, ever since you started Vigilantes. It wasn’t an oncoming train, but the lorry convoy and its cargo of retrospective agony instead.

2) “Oh boy, back at U.A. are we? Already over the Endeavor business, and back into business with the true horror of a teenager`s life: math homework.”- Better than the other alternative of getting abducted and spending your adolescent years getting remodelled into a sentient monster at the behest of people you’ve never even met, all to suit their purposes. Shirakumo might still be around inside Kurogiri, but he’s spent a long time walking around under All For One’s commands- perhaps even longer than he was alive as a human being even.

3) “Not gonna say that it had just begun, right? Midoriya, the amount of shit you guys went through was enough for at least three lifetimes, don`t try to tell me it was nowhere close to reaching its lowest moment”- Oh, we’re well past the beginning stages, but it is kinda a sobering though, realising that all the chaotic mayhem and gradual worsening of the situation has occurred so rapidly in only a little under nine months’ worth of time. Sure, All For One and the league kicked things off, but such a rapid change in the stability of the country indicates just how fragile it was all along, and how paper-thin the lie of true peace and safety was that All Might fought and bled to uphold for the ordinary people who just wanted a life of peace, even as his own efforts further frustrated and oppressed those who sought a different type of peace outwith what society would grant them.

4) “Also, I already see what this is gonna be about. Jesus that`s a bit more comforting, knowing that this is going to be a new year`s chapter, goddammit the lack of tittle worried me for a moment. fuck`s sake, stop tricking me like this”-The moment you feel most relaxed is the moment the trap is sprung and the pain is delivered nice and fresh.

5) “Well, you see, Bakugo realized the real victory was all the friends you made along the way. Midoriya learned of all of endeavor`s weakspots and good places to dispose a body in case Todoroki needs some help.”- Shoto learned that forgiveness is not something that is easily obtained or granted on a whim and that he needs to work on some more hot/cold one liners for putting villains down.

6) “Calm down Aizawa, the day just got started and the kids are on their way to the killing ground, don`t tell me you came all this way to give them some shitty news or something, we don`t need this kind of negativity on this house.”-Well Aizawa’s got some fairly shitty news coming his way shortly enough and it renders him so negative he can’t even stay on campus anymore.

7) “…

I have a slightly suspicion that we`ll see very little of the new year`s eve this chapter, by the way things are going. It wasn`t this the reason I was denied the tittle, right?”- You see the outline of the trap but not the exact mechanism by which it will active…

8) “…

God fucking dammit Ida.”- To be fair, learning how to act loose and easy-going is something that’s quite hard for Iida to do and very important if he wants to get along with a sizeable number of sidekicks like Tenya did- which, I always kinda assumed he’d be aiming for, if he wanted to surpass him as a hero.

9) “Oh good, they called him to talk before he snapped and- well, snapped Kaminari and Sero`s necks”- Oh, he’s about to snap in a very different, not-funny way….

10) “Huh, new costume? I don`t see anything different, but then again, I`m not that good with details- HAGAKURE CAN YOU PUT A SHIRT PLEASE? THIS IS A CHRISTIAN WEBSITE, BEHAVE YOURSELF!”- I think she’s added wider, more antenna-like protrusions to her helmet, possibly for allowing Radio communication, as well as large gauntlet-like ‘cuffs’ she can store her new wire tool in alongside other, more important objects…

11) “And Uraraka apparently got some new equipment alongside her costume change. A heavy wire on her wrist… I do wonder, is she going to make her own version of Black whip? Is she going to incorporate a medium range weapon on her arsenal after Midoriya started using one as well? Well, that will be answered after we see what is that Mina  just dropped.”- Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but thinking about it, Uraraka’s quirk is basically perfect for web-swinging anyway and cuts out the nasty side-effects of gravity pulling you down if you don’t find another anchor point to grab onto fast before you hit the ground. Plus, with her gravity nullification, she can either grab objects floating away from her and reel them towards a target or hold onto civilians and use the wire as a guiding line to move them to a safe location, such as down off a high-rise building that’s on fire.  Of course, that was all secondary to having the excuse to get a large enough compartment added to her costume to have a very important gift by her side at all time when she needs a morale boost…

12) “Oh, I remember that, isn`t it the gift Midoriya got her?”- Mina and the other girls recognise it too, meaning we weren’t the only one watching that little gift exchange with interest…

13) “oh yeah, it was that, and mina, as the absolute shipper that she is, immediately connected the dots on what it was and why Uraraka had it. Yeah, we all know the reason for that as well wink wink ;) ”- It was to give us a final dose of wholesome shipping teasing before the rest of the chapter introduces the failed outcome of a teenage romance cut short by tragedy and literally warped into an unrecognisable form…

14) “Meanwhile, there`s no place for romance at the MANLY MAN LOCKER ROOM OF MANLINESS. HERE WE ONLY SPEAK OF MUSCLES, GUNS, POWER, and the crushing weight of expectations caused by toxic masculinity and the difficulty on opening up about it to other people due to the fear of not conforming to society. ALSO CARS AND GUNS MOUNTED ON CARS.”- Fittingly, Bakugou shortly thereafter demonstrates an insecure teenager’s reaction to feeling like he’s getting overshadowed by his competitor and getting rendered insignificant in their personal race to become number one- excessive use of violence to demonstrate his disapproval, remind everybody that he’s there and plenty strong already and vent his frustrations with himself for feeling weaker than Izuku, even if momentarily. Truly, this boy is a psychologist’s field day.

15) “OH JESUS FUCK BAKUGO

YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM LIKE THAT?!”- And we can take this as proof that Bakugou regularly bolts a sharp piece of spiky metal to his face as part of his costume for no other reason than to look cool and imposing, even though it’s gotta be pretty heavy and cardboard would probably do the trick just as well. This kid goes the extra mile to look like his idealised image of a manly hero, so it’s no wonder he gets along so well with Kirishima.

16) “HOLY JESUS THAT WASN`T EVEN A GAG THAT HAPPENED FOR REAL”- Luckily, it seems the next piece of OFA’s powers that Izuku’s unlocking is the ridiculous durability All Might demonstrated from getting blasted through multiple buildings with only minor damages to show for it, allowing him to tank impalement with barely a reaction once the shock wore off. Kid’s gonna be nearly bulletproof by the time he fully masters his abilities.

17) “OH MY GOD HE`S STILL GOING ON EVEN THOUGH HE DIED”- They eventually needed surgery to get it out, and whilst Izuku’s mostly fine, they have to leave a piece of the mask stuck inside his brain and now he can no longer count backwards from 10.

18) “ALL MIGHT PLEASE THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR JOKES, YOUR SON DIED AND BAKUGO DOESN`T EVEN REGRET IT, DO SOMETHING PLEASE!”- Or it’s precisely the time for jokes, because poor Aizawa is not in a good place and somebody’s gotta keep the kids occupied and unaware of their teacher’s grief until he’s had time to process all these revelations and compose himself.

19) “Urgent business, eh? Was it something related to Eri? Well, it doesn`t look like it, since he`s out of school right now… I don`t know, something fucky is going on, and I`m already getting scared.”- This dates back to before he became a certified dad, and in fact, is mostly the reason he even became one in the first place.  The Skeletons in your closet don’t normally come out and say ‘hello’ on their own, and with this particular zombie, Aizawa doesn’t even know what to think anymore- hell, the man’s so shaken he can’t even drive himself to the prison, even though he’s gotta own some kind of motorised vehicle and a licence if he wants to get around.

20) “Oh, you got Mic to drive you around? dammit aizawa- and you even complain while he drives your ass around, fuck`s sake man, let him be a responsible driver.”- At this point, the unanswered hope that it’s all a mistake and the horrible, horrible reality they’re in where their childhood friend got frankenstiened together into a tailor-made monster by somebody they didn’t even know existed until a few months ago isn’t real is the only reason Aizawa isn’t having a full-on mental breakdown, and the warring desire to confirm in and at the same time, reject the truth is making him irritable. Beyond even the horror of what’s become of Kumo, he’s seen All For One in action, and knows exactly who did that to his friend.  Aizawa’s past shows that he’s well aware of his weaknesses, and even if he wants to enact vengeance for the desecration of his old friend, there’s nothing he can do against somebody as awe-inspiringly powerful as All For One himself, especially since he’s currently locked up and absolutely isolated from the outside world. He can do nothing about this messed-up situation, so the only thing he can do right now is pray that it’s not real… but Horikoshi and All For One have no kindness to spare. @thelreads

[schrijverr]

Hold Me Together

Chapter 3 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hold Me Tight

Eliot ate his soup under the watchful gazes of Hardison and Parker. It was good soup, but he felt guilty about having the kitchen staff cook for him, deciding to thank them profusely later. He also made a mental note to yell at Hardison and Parkerlater about burning a pan, hoping it hadn’t been one of his nice pans.

For now though, the soup was heavenly on his throat and its warmth was great for his cold bones, so he just leaned against the headboard and ate his soup, spotting the stuffed mushroom on his bedside table.

Once it became clear, he wasn’t going to explode, or whatever those two thought he was going to do, they relaxed and started babbling about all sorts of things. While Eliot had been sleeping, they had also taken a nap, before the failed soup experiment, after which Hardison had taught Parker how to play Thief: Deadly Shadows, which Parker found too unrealistic and critiqued the stealing animations, until they had decided to keep him company.

Their chatter was relaxing and despite the fact that Eliot had been asleep for sixteen hours, not to mention the car ride before that, he found his eyes drooping.

“You tired?” Hardison asked kindly and Eliot’s gut instinct was to deny it. He couldn't go to sleep again, it was embarrassing and unnecessary. Still, he was tired and they had been so nice, but if he went to sleep they would leave him again.

That train of thought had taken a quick turn and Eliot was frustrated that he didn’t have a good control over his emotions and thoughts due to the fluof all things that was making him dazed. He blinked the thought away and shook his head.

“So you’re not tired?” Parker filled in with a confused frown. And Eliot wanted to deny it for real this time, but instead he yawned.

“I somehow find that hard to believe,” Hardison quirked a brow playfully.

God, they were so nice to him and he didn’t deserve that, but it was so nice and he wanted them to stay with him and not go to sleep, even if he was tired. He pushed down the tears threatening to well up in his eyes, before whispering: “Don’t want to sleep yet.”

It was pathetic and he should have just said that he was fine and that he was going to get up, but he couldn’t and if anyone asked later he had a sore throat and couldn’t speak.

“No?” Hardison asked.

“No,” Eliot replied. He didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to be left alone and he didn’t want to be pathetic, yet there he was.

“We could watch a movie,” Parker suggested and Eliot could have kissed her. He had wanted to kiss her on multiple occasions, but this was definitely one of them- And he should really stop thinking about kissing Parker right about now, okay, pushing that away.

“That’s a great idea, mama,” Hardison exclaimed, getting up to grab his laptop since Eliot had refused to let him install a tv in his room. As he went he took the empty bowl with him.

Parker took it upon herself to built a semi-pillow fort around Eliot, before burrowing into Eliot’s side with a content sigh. Alarms went off in his head at the closeness even if it was nice, so he protested it with a raw voice: “I could be contagious.”

“We slept next to you for a night then sat on the backseat of Lucille for eight hours, bit too late for that,” Parker said. “Besides, you’re warm and soft.”

His brain short-circuited for a moment and when he came back online Hardison was there, three steaming mugs on a tray as he said: “Ahw, aren’t you two making an adorable picture,” successfully breaking Eliot again.

Next to him Parker smiled and did grabby hands to the mugs. Hardison gave her one, which was obviously hot chocolate under the pile of marshmallows on top of it. Luckily, the mug that Eliot was given was filled with tea. It was bag tea, badly prepared, but there was honey in it and he was touched anyway.

“Okay, I’m thinking 007, it’s James Bond, a classic, must see,” Hardison said, plopping down on Eliot’s other side, setting the laptop on Eliot’s lap and leaning over as he started typing.

“He’s a terrible spy,” Eliot protested, barely audible, more because if he said anything else, he would blurt out something embarrassing and bickering with Hardison about his movie taste was the safest thing right now.

“And your voice is almost gone, so you should rest it,” Hardison shot him a cheeky grin, “No complaining from you for once.”

Eliot guffawed about that, frowning, but he didn’t reply, because he wouldn't waste his voice on something so petty and childish, no matter what Hardison thought, so he just looked away haughtily to convey his dismay.

“Oeh, I know, it’s the one with the dude he thinks he’s good at what we do, but he’s not and also on the other side of the law,” it clicked for Parker and Eliot smiled when she picked his side of the argument.

“Other side of the law? Woman, do you mean the right side of the law?” Hardison said.

“I mean, it’s the other side of the law from us,” Parker shrugged and Eliot couldn't help but bark out a laugh, Hardison joining in, before everyone was distracted when it turned into a coughing fit and Eliot’s tea had to be saved by Parker while Hardison rubbed his back.

“You good?” Hardison asked when the coughing had subsided.

Still a bit out of breath and red in the face, Eliot nodded. He gestured vaguely with his hand to convey that he was fine and that they should let it go, before clearing his throat and rasping: “You know, I’m with Parker.”

“Really? You just nearly died of coughing and your first reaction is to continue a stupid argument where you know you’re wrong,” Hardison said indignantly.

“‘m not wrong,” Eliot told him, voice now barely a whisper.

“You. You stay quiet, okay. Your voice is making my throat hurt-” Hardison took the tea from Parker and pushed it into Eliot’s hands “-drink your tea and shut up, while you watch how wrong you are, okay. Both y’all.”

Eliot grinned lightly, but let them push him back onto the pillows, cradling his mug as Hardison finished setting up the movie, while Parker whispered in his ear: “I don’t get why people think he’s cool, besides the explosions.”

“I heard that,” Hardison called out, clicking play, before settling down on Eliot’s other side, bracketing him between them.

It was nice and comfortable and Eliot should really not be allowing this, because he was fine dammit and he could take care of himself. But it was really really nice and, honestly, it didn’t seem like Parker and Hardison thought him to be breakable and they had had movie nights in the past, so it wasn’t anything new. Besides, his muscles were too sore for fighting right now.

The movie played on the screen, but he couldn't focus and his eyes were closing more and more. He felt himself slide to the side and land on something warm, but no one pushed him away and to the sound of bullets flying, he began to nod off.

He fought it for a while, he really wanted to stay present with Parker commenting on the movie and Hardison defending it until a hacking scene came on and then he was really upset about the whole thing.

It felt like home, comfortable and safe and Eliot wanted to experience it for as long as it lasted, but sleep won out and soon he was out like a light once more.

When he woke up again, he was shivering and cold to the bone, it didn’t matter that there were multiple blankets piled on top of him and that he still had Hardison’s stupidly warm hoodie on. The sweat was cooling on his body and he was cold.

And alone.

Somehow that second fact hit him harder than he’d expected and he immediately hated himself for being a clingy pathetic little bitch. He knew better than this, they’d already seen enough weakness from him. They had handled it so far, but there would be a breaking point and he knew it. He had to keep them out of it, before they got there and they would leave. He had to take care of himself from now on.

Determined he got up out of bed to find more blankets and clean clothes, because still wearing Hardison’s hoodie should be weird and not comforting and the clothes were too sweaty to be comfortable anyway. His left ankle still throbbed as he got up, but he could walk and stand on it now, albeit unsteadily and with a slight limp.

He felt entirely uncomfortable, his skin itchy around him and his body uncoordinated. He wanted to take a shower, but didn’t trust himself enough to take one, so he just pulled on new clothes, a shirt and boxers – no pants because he’d already almost fallen over with the boxers – before padding out his room and to the living room where there should be more blankets. He had no clue what time it was but it was between sun and stars, either early morning or evening.

The unanswered question about the time was answered when he entered the living room and saw Parker and Hardison curled up on the couch with a blanket and pizza. Dinner. At least he hoped it wasn’t breakfast, because then he would have to yell at them and that seemed like about as much work as standing was right now.

Two pairs of eyes had locked onto him the moment he had come stumbling into the room, and he looked at them like a deer in headlights. He somehow hadn’t counted on encountering them, even if it was technically their apartment and he just had a room there.

After a moment of staring, Parker sprung up, exclaiming: “Eliot!” as she scrambled over the back of the couch with the blanket she and Hardison had been sharing.

“Hey, man, what are you doing here? You should be in bed,” Hardison had gotten over his initial surprise of Eliot appearing in just his boxers and a shirt (and he was really regretting not putting in the extra effort of pants).

Then the question registered and with a hoarse voice, he explained: “I go’ col’. Blan’e’s.”

“You’re up looking for more blankets?” Hardison asked. “Good god, you’re shivering, man. Come, sit on the couch.” Parker led him to the couch while Hardison mumbled: “How is this man cold? We left nearly all the blankets on his bed.”

Eliot felt guilty about interrupting their evening when he’d already taken up so much of their time since their last con, on which they also hadn’t been able to spend much time together, but between his clattering teeth and lost voice, his explanation got lost.

He was alone on the couch now, with both Hardison and Parker having disappeared once they’d installed him with the blanket tucked tightly around him. He was a bit lost on what was expected of him now, but soon Parker came back with the mess of blankets that had been on his bed and Hardison arrived with a steaming bowl and a hot bottle.

Hardison handed him the bottle and he tucked it against his chest, before Parker practically swaddled him. He softly protested: “You don’ nee’ to do t‘is.”

“We know,” Hardison smiled again with a bit of knowing in there as if he was aware why Eliot was protesting. It should bother him more than it did that they knew him so well. “Just drink your soup, Eliot. We want to take care of you.”

“Yes, it’s a skill you need to learn and you helped me,” Parker smiled and it was so easy to agree with the smile and just drink his soup, but he couldn't just accept help like that.

What he wanted to tell them was: ‘You two need to stop all of this, because I don’t need it and you two are dating and I’m only in the way of that right now. Just let me get to my room and I’ll be fine on my own while you have date night. This is really sweet and all, but I’ve been through worse and I’ll survive a little flu by myself.’

However, his voice had left him entirely now to the point of inaudible, so instead he moved his mouth while hoarse whispers that couldn't even be called words came out.

“I didn’t get that,” Parker said after a beat and it was just blunt and honest and completely Parker.

“Me neither, mama,” Hardison said. “I can go grab you a pen and some paper, man. You can write it down if you want?”

And that was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted them to see he was bad in their life and not worthy of this attention, he wanted them to go away before they could see he was weak and they couldn't count on him, even if he would die before they couldn't count on him anymore. The longer this went on the sooner they would see the soft, weak parts of him and they would want to cut him out. And he didn’t want to be cut out. Of course he didn’t want to be cut out, but that would be inevitable if they stayed, because they would see his creepy feelings for them or see how much he craved contact and that would be the end.

His vision blurred and his breath came in raspy wheezes. Far away he could hear Parker and Hardison’s worried voices and he faintly wondered why they weren’t upset with him for ruining their night and falling apart over nothing.

Why couldn’t they just leave him like everyone else? It would hurt, but it would be easier.

But they didn’t leave, instead there was a bony arm around his shoulders and a soft hand rubbing his back as two voices spoke in calming tones, though he couldn't make out what they were saying. He took some more deep breaths and tried to push it all down and lock it away.

Once his vision had cleared he could see a laptop on a blank word document in front of him. He didn’t have the energy to repeat all he’d said, but he typed anyway: im aorry dioe ruinug your date nifht

He couldn't really focus, but both were quiet for a moment as they deciphered his words. Then he was pulled into a half hug by Hardison this time, as the other said: “You’re not ruining anyone’s night, man. What gave you that idea?”

Eliot shrugged helplessly at that, because how could they not see he was ruining their night by getting injured and then sick and deciding to stay here even if he had an apartment, because there was a room here. And he was really relying too much on them already for when it all came crashing down around him.

“Do you not want us to be here with you?” Parker asked, sounding sad.

He shook his head quickly, because he could never let Parker be sad, a stab of pain going through his skull as he did, before shrugging, wishing he had a voice, even if he was too exhausted to explain. He wasn’t sleepy, just tired, like he wanted to sit and stare, but not sleep.

Parker wrapped herself around him, putting her head on his shoulder as she said: “It’s okay. I sometimes also don’t know what I want. We’ll just figure it out together.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Hardison agreed with her and Eliot wanted to cry at their kindness, but instead he just nodded weakly, giving in to taking up space when they didn’t seem to mind. He accepted the soup again and focusing on eating it and the warmth of Hardison and Parker as well as the blankets around him, instead of the thoughts swirling in his mind.

The two had the good sense to let him be, while they went back to the conversation he’d interrupted. It seemed they had been discussing the ethics of pushing someone of the building. Eliot had heard both sides of the argument often enough to tune them out and just listen to the tones of their voices as his mind sank away.

Content he stared into the void for a while. He didn’t keep track of the time, but it could have been minutes to an hour. In the time he ate his soup and let the bowl get taken away gently as the hot water bottle cooled and the shivers came back. His breath was wheezy and he sniffled, regularly interrupted with a cough.

After a while they put on a movie and cuddled on the couch with him, but he could not have told anyone later what the movie was.

They helped him to bed at some point, he brushed his teeth slowlyand slept long and deep, but when he woke up he was still in that hazy staring mood. Parker brought him a few crackers with more tea with honey that he ate gratefully giving her an, in her opinion, dopey smile, even if his eyes couldn't stay fully focused on her.

It was never brought up later and Eliot didn’t remember, but when Parker had asked him why he was smiling, he had told her in a hoarse whisper: “‘s nice, not bein’ alone.” And after that, he hadn’t been alone, because Parker had told Hardison, who had gotten a sad look in his eye, before getting Eliot and carting him off to the couch.

Eliot had gone along willingly. He couldn't really do more than think ‘hmm, warm,’ as he leaned in and stumbled along, but he was glad to just sit on the couch under a lot of blankets while Parker hung in the rafters and Hardison worked on some IDs.

He was pretty sure Sophie came by and he said hi to her and she told him something about talking to Nate, but he couldn't be sure. He should ask Hardison or Parker about it, because they had talked to her more and he should be interested in who went in and out of the apartment, check for security risks. But he was exhausted and he couldn't focus on anything.

Still, he was completely sure that if something were to happen, he would be up and ready to fight as best as he could, but his brain had shut off for anyone he’d deemed safe.

That night Hardison and Parker slept in his bed again, like they’d done at the hotel and the first night back in Portland. Their presence was calming and despite the chills, he felt warm.

During the night he didn’t wake up once, which was actually rare even with the sickness knocking him out constantly. The shivers had been waking him up for short moments, along with the coughing, but pressed between Parker and Hardison, he slept like a baby.

When he woke up, however, he was keenly aware of the cooling sweat on his skin and the every present smell of sickness in the air and the horrid taste in his mouth. He also then realized that meant Hardison and Parker were smelling it too and he let out a small noise of embarrassment, before he was even aware of it.

“What’s wrong, E?” Hardison asked and Eliot would rather just sink into the ground, but he couldn't so he burrowed into his blanket and wrinkled his nose.

“Are you still a mermaid?” Parker appeared where he had rolled away from Hardison.

“We watched The Little Mermaidrecently,” Hardison explained.

Eliot nodded. He might be able to talk, but his throat hurt and none of his thoughts stuck around for long enough to form into sentences he could verbalize.

Parker was still studying his face closely, while Hardison went on a mission to figure out what the noise had meant. “Are you in pain? Do we need to get you some pain meds?”

A grumpy, negative grunt.

“Okay, okay, no need to be so touchy feel-y. I get it, no pain meds,” Hardison backed off. “Is there any other discomfort?”

And there was, the taste and smell and the fact that Hardison and Parker were in the smell and not saying anything about it. Also the fact that his clothes felt grimy from the sweat that madehis skin feellike it needed to crawl off him if he ever wanted to feel comfortable and clean again. But he wasn’t telling them that, because they might want to do something about it, which would be even more embarrassing.

“He’s not telling us something,” Parker snitched on him and while he was glad her people-reading skills had increased, he didn’t like her using them on him. So, he hid in his blanket again as protest.

“There is something!” Hardison agreed, taking his silent protest as Parker’s words having truth and Eliot hated and loved them both for how well they could read him. It was dangerous to have people that close and it would hurt when they left, but to have a family again was nice.

Having them was nice.

Oh no. Abort. Abort. Not having those thoughts while they were in his bed and he was in just a shirt and boxers.

Actually, never those thoughts.

Never.

They were happy together and he only broke things. He was bad and needed to stay away from that and he knew it. Just had to ram it in a few more times before it would stick in his thick skull and- fuck they were still talking to him.

“… never tell us anything and I know you can’t talk and shit, but you really need to give me more than those blank, panicky eyes,” Hardison looked at him, before sighing in what Eliot would call a fond manner, if he didn’t know better. “You didn’t hear a word I was saying, did you?”

Sheepishly Eliot shook his head, wincing when that every present headache made itself known again.

“He feels bad about it,” Parker observed and he would love it if she stopped reading his face to Hardison and let him vanish in peace.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Hardison smiled and a knot loosened in Eliot’s chest, even when he hadn’t noticed it had been there. “I’ll ask again. He listening, mama?”

After a look Parker confirmed: “He is.”

“Good. So, Eliot, the thing that’s bothering you, could we do something to change it and help?” he asked and there was, but Eliot wasn’t showering with them near him again, maybe they’d hold him and the last time was too intense already. His mind spun when he thought about it, so yeah, he didn’t need a close repeat of that, not if he wanted to push Hardison and Parker away.

“I’m taking your silence as a yes,” Hardison informed him, snapping him back to the present, though he could play that off. He had been distant mentally ever since he got sick.

“So, what is it?” Parker asked, poking him and, oh yeah, he realized, them knowing something was up meant that they were going to needle him for answers until they had them.

Luckily for him, he had sat through worse torture and never breathed a word.

A few moments later and he was breaking. Parker kept on poking him and Hardison kept looking at him with those open, concerned eyes while he spoke too much for Eliot too keep track of everything, until it all became too much. “Uncomfortable,” he finally said. Well, tried to say, it sounded more like ‘un’omf’r’le,’ but that was besides the point.

“What’s uncomfortable, E?” Hardison asked, not unkindly.

“E’erythin’,” he replied, tugging at his shirt and wrinkling his nose as he smacked his lips and shuddered, before the shudder turned into a sneeze and a small, miserable cough.

“You feeling yucky, buddy?” Parker asked, earning her look form the other two. Defensively she shrugged: “What? It’s what they say in those movies and shows.”

And when she mentioned it, he did feel pretty yucky, even if he would never describe it like that out loud. Hardison, however, had no such qualms and he delighted in saying: “He probably does feel very yucky. But we can take care of that. I’ll start running a bath.”

Immediately Eliot felt conflicted and made a protesting noise. He wanted a bath, god, nothing sounded better than nice hot water on his sore muscles and cold, sweat stained skin, but if he had learned anything, it was that neither of them would leave him in peace in the bath and he was trying to distance himself, even if that seemed absurd with how both were in his bed, cuddling him through the night to keep him warm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” Hardison smiled, misinterpreting his noise and sweeping out of the room before Eliot could rectify the mistake.

Parker cuddled back into his side and confided in him: “He never breaks that promise. Took me a while to believe it too, but it’s okay. You’ll get there.”

Eliot didn’t understand, didn’t get how neither of them could see how wrong they were. He wanted to rip his hair out and- oh, there was a hand in his hair, getting out the tangles. It was nice and his mind blanked as he leaned into the contact, something he would berate himself for later.

He only remembered that he should have been convincing Parker that this was a terrible idea when Hardison returned. “You two gotta stop doing this to me, man. You look like a content cat. Now get up, we got a bath to get too.”

The blanket was pulled off him and the cold swept over him. He shivered hard and tried to flee into Parker’s side before he could even think about that action too hard. For a moment, he thought he was safe too, because she wrapped her arms around him like a hug, but then she turned it against him and dragged him to his knees with her.

“Man, I feel like I’m about to slaughter a puppy right now,” Hardison told him as he took Eliot from Parker and pulled him out of bed.

“He’ll be fine once he’s warm and clean again,” Parker assured him. “He’s just being a bit of a baby about it.”

“I think he’s allowed to be a baby about it,” Hardison said and Eliot would have a lot more opinions on the conversation if the room wasn’t spinning and he was barely keeping up with Hardison’s steps, completely trusting the hacker not to drop him. “I mean, look at how he’s shivering, can’t be comfortable.”

Eliot blinked again, the room was still swaying, but it was a different room than before. There was a hot steam in the air and there were tiles around him. The bathroom. He was too late to stop them and he gave in.

If anyone he used to know could see him now, they’d never believe it. The great Eliot Spencer giving into the whims of a hacker and a thief, not even fighting getting a bath even when he knew it was a security risk and something that could blow up in his face.

Deft hands were divesting him of his shirt and soon he was in just his boxers. The door opened and closed behind him as Parker vanished, while Hardison said: “She’s gonna change the sheets and I’m here to keep you from drowning. There are bubbles in the bath, but I can understand if you want to keep your boxers on.”

He nodded, because he would like to keep the boxers on. The steam was doing wonders for his throat, but he didn’t trust himself to speak just yet.

Hardison supported him at the elbows as he stepped into the bath. The water was warm and he sank into it gratefully with a soft sigh, his muscles were already loosening and the heat did nothing against the sleepiness that had been plaguing him. His eyes closed without his permission as the water embraced him.

A hand under his chin stopped him before he could sink underwater and his eyes snapped open to find Hardison smiling at him. “Told you I wasn’t going to let you drown. Go on, relax, Eliot. It’s okay, I got you.”

It was distinctly harder to relax with Hardison holding him up, his big warm hands were very distracting and Eliot was trying really hard not to be distracted. The water was like heaven on his muscles, so that helped and he could feel the steam clearing his sinuses and alleviating the strain on his throat.

Few minutes in and Hardison’s hands were just part of the little place of niceness away from all the discomfort that came with being sick.

Eliot knew he could have just existed like that forever, floating away from his body while still feeling the nice sensations, were it not for the door making noise again as Parker came in. He perked his head up and cracked one eye open.

She smiled at him and held up some clothes, which she put down as she skipped forwards, kneeling next to the bath. With open eyes she asked: “How are you feeling? Baths always make me feel tingly in a good way, are you feeling tingly?”

He didn’t know what hisface did at the question, but Hardison laughed: “I think he’s feeling plenty tingly, mama. I saw you with your hands in his hair, wanna wash it?”

Parker lit up at that and even if Eliot had been planning to protest – which hadn’t crossed his mind before it was too late – he couldn't have told her no with that face. So he watched as they switched places, feeling kinda awkward at both of the staring at him while he was going to face a vulnerable action.

Eliot wasn’t going to ask where she had gotten the skill, but she knew what she was doing as she slipped a hand under his neck, before slowly pushing him down into the water, until he was comfortably floating. She ran a hand through his hair and the final awkwardness slipped from his mind along with most of his thoughts as he leaned into the touch.

Under the water with his eyes closed, he couldn't see Hardison’s looks that he couldn't place with his fuzzy mind, nor Parker’s excitement and apparent happiness about taking care of him like he needed their help. He could just be and feel the tender touches that no one had given him in many years, everyone always quicker to see him as a threat to be avoided.

He was even slightly upset when Parker pulled him back up, a noise leaving his throat before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to find Parker’s hands on him nice, she had a boyfriend. A hot boyfriend, but also a no-no on the touch list.

So, he kept quiet as Parker lathered shampoo into his hair. It was her shampoo, he was almost sure of it. Her hair always smelled like it and, if he remembered correctly, it had been a gift from Hardison. Now he had to fight both the blush as well as soft pleased noises.

And he failed at both.

“Ahw, man, the moment you feel better, I am so teasing you with this,” Hardison said. “You’re just too sad for me to do it now, but I will remember this. I’m probably not allowed to film you, right, because this is great.”

His response was going to be something along the lines of ‘Dammit, Hardison,’ but Parker was faster as she spoke for him: “Hardison! Shush, we just got him to accept a bit of nice things, don’t ruin our master plan.”

“Sorry, mama,” Hardison looked chastised and Eliot wanted to ask about the master plan, but Parker just hit a knot in his hair and he shivered against her touch instead and forgot was he was going to ask.

When Parker washed out his hair, she was careful not to get it into his eyes, but she also let him float a bit longer, the silence of the water stilling his swirling mind. It was empty now, which was better than the confusing half-thoughts and admonishes.

Still, the water was cooling around him and sooner than he’d like, Parker was letting him up as Hardison got him out of the bath.

He could at least stand on his own now and Parker left the two of them while Eliot got dried off and into new clothes.

Being able to stand on his own, however, didn’t mean it wasn’t still strange. His entire being felt soft and collapsible from the bath and sitting on the toilet with Hardison rubbing him down with a towel wasn’t helping. He couldn't even remember why he was allowing Hardison to do it, instead of drying himself, but the contact was nice and he got lost in it.

Soon there was a shirt floating in front of him and this time his shoulder was good enough to slide his armin it. Hardison had dried his stitches and mumbled something about them healing well, which Eliot appreciated. He didn’t need more of his body to turn against him like it was doing now with the way he swayed towards Hardison whenever then man moved away slightly.

The pants was still awkward as fuck, with Eliot leaning one hand on Hardison’s shoulder and looking away at the ceiling while Hardison helped him into dry boxers and sweatpants, patting him on the leg when he was done.

He expected to go back to bed, but Hardison had remembered all the little details and was standing in front of him with his toothbrush. He reached out for it, but his arm was heavy and fell halfway through the uncoordinated grab.

“Yeah, okay, this is just sad, open up,” Hardison said. Eliot didn’t comply and he raised a brow, before putting on a voice and going: “Come on, say ahhhh.”

Eliot glared at him, but said ahhh with a murderous glare that fell flat in the grand scheme of it all. He let Hardison steady his jaw, before he brushed his teeth. It was rhythmic and soothing and Eliot allowed himself to get lost in the sensations as Hardison took care of him, spitting in the sink and accepting the glass of water offered to him.

Then they returned to the bedroom, Hardison a steady presence at his side as had become the norm in the past few days.

When he got to his bedroom, the sheets had been changed and he never thought he’d see the day where that would make him emotional, but there were still tears trying to well up that he pushed down, because they were just so goddamnedthoughtful and they were taking care of him even when they didn’t need to.

It was just a lot. Eliot wasn’t used to it. And his brain would have told him to not get used to it, if it hadn’t been turned to slight mush by the sickness and the nice warm bath.

So, he got into the bed and burrowed into the clean sheets with a happy smile, not seeing the ‘oh my god, he’s being adorable like a puppy looks’ that Hardison and Parker shared as he whispered a soft thanks.

“No problem,” Hardison said. “Here scoot over, Parker picked a movie.”

And he did so gladly, even if he knew it was a play to get him to sleep again. He wasn’t fighting them, his brain felt warm and he wasn’t thinking straight enough just yet, so he let them cozy up to his sides as a movie he couldn't name played.

He napped till the evening then he ate more soup and he would complain about different nutrient intakes and diversity in a diet, but he was just glad that they cared enough to bring him food – and he would really have to thank the kitchen staff later for that too – while also not burning down his kitchen.

That evening, he stayed awake through the movie, which was a shitty horror movie that Eliot had never heard about and could have gone his entire life without knowing about it.

However, sleep took him for the night just as easily and he was looking forward to the day he could stay awake and think straight again. That day was not the next day, however, which passed in a similar fashion.

But, while he felt and looked like a wreck, on the fifth day back at the brewpub, he felt slightly better. His nose was still completely stuffed but with all the tea, the bath and resting his voice, his throat was much better already, even the coughing subsiding little by little. His appetite was still shit and he had no energy, his head was also constantly thrumming and his muscles hurt like he’d been fighting for hours, on top of his healing injuries that had fallen into the background of his general discomfort.

Still, while it wasn’t a lot, his head wasn’t so fuzzy anymore either. It meant he felt all the aches more, but he liked that he had a little more control over his head.

Sadly, because he had more control over his head, he remembered how this was all wrong and he should be far away from this.

~~

A/N:

Eliot goes from grumpy man to emotional wreck in three chapters and I commend him for that, because it takes me five minutes max

Also, it’s really hard to write a story when the person from whose POV it is written keeps falling asleep, like sir, I need you to write the fic, stop sleeping.

Fun fact!: I typed this ‘im aorry dioe ruinug your date nifht’ without looking, bc I am actually a shit typer in the sense that I type with two fingers (four if I’m in a hurry), lmao. How I get anything done is a miracle, though I am pretty fast despite it all.

I feel like I should also mention that I know nothing about taking care of sick people and this was written for the emotional care, not the realistic nursing techniques. Also don’t look too closely into what happened to all the injuries, I half forgot, oops

Btw, angstier chapter incoming, fear me >:3

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette Vs Santa

A quick Christmas drabble.

  How did Marinette find out she was adopted? Well… her little half-brother tried to kill her.

           Also, that’s how she found out her biological dad was Batman. Because… why not. As if her life wasn’t weird enough already.

           And to think Marinette had been secretly writing Santa every year since she was three to like nine asking for a sibling of her own. She didn’t think it would ever happen

           Then one day, on a cold December night, as Ladybug ran across rooftops to see as many of the Christmas decorations as possible. Suddenly every instinct she had told her to duck. And she did just narrowly avoided a sword to the throat.

           Marinette readied herself to fight an Akuma, only to see an angry ten-year-old with a sword and a mask. He was dressed in green, red, and gold.

“Die, usurper!” He roared and attacked her again.

           Ladybug dodged and jumped every attempt to kill her and tried to resist the urge to punch a child.

           Eventually she got the better of the kid, and ended up hog tying him.

           Marinette put her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath, “Who. Are. You. Nightmare. Child?” She asked in between breaths. Ladybug picked up the fallen sword and pointed at him. “And what is your problem? What did I even do to you?”

“You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng, first born blood child of our father.” He hissed at her, “I am our father’s rightful heir; not you.”

           Our father?  Did her dad have a lovechild? Did he cheat on her mom? No, Tom Dupain would never.

“What?” Marinette pinched her nose. “You want to be head baker?”

“Fool!” He tsk’d at her. “I’ve no interest in your adoptive parents’ holdings. I will follow Father’s footsteps and rule the night. I will be Batman. Not you, sister. Kneel before me and renounce your heirship, and I will spare your life.”

           …Wait Adoptive? Batman? Sister?

           Marinette just stared at him. Not saying a word. For a while. Awhile he insulted her.

           She looked out at the colorful lights that glowed against the freshly fallen snow and sense of peace that filled the air, and Marinette whispered the only thing on her mind…

“Fuck Santa.”

           The boy stopped struggled and gave her a perplexed look, “What? What does the jolly fat man have to do with anything? Why has he made you angry, sister? I will avenge you.”

You just tried to kill me, she wanted to say.

           Marinette just rolled her eyes, “Never mind. We need to talk.” She picked him and tossed him over her shoulder. “In my room.”

           Running across Paris with a struggling kid on your shoulder and a sword in your hand wasn’t easy.

            When she got to her room, she dropped the kid on her bed as gently as possible. “Do not escape,” She ordered. “If you do, do not destroy my room. I’m going to ask my parents if…” If they’re really her parents. Why didn’t they tell her?  Why? Just Why? “What you say is true. I won’t mention Batman.”

           Or the psychotic ten-year-old she had tied up in her room. Who may or may not be her brother.

           Marinette de-transformed. Tikki hid in her hair before anyone could see her.

           She came back to her room half an hour later with a cheese plate, full of veggies, fruits and crackers. And a tray full of chocolate chip Christmas cookies and two glasses of milk. She sat them down at the desk.

           The boy glared at her.

“You were right,” Marinette sighed. “I was adopted. My birth mom was just nineteen when she had me. The sister of one of my mom’s friends.”

           The news had been a blow. Her parents had kept repeating how much they loved her and how they had been planning on telling her when she was older. Older than fourteen. They wanted to know how she found out. She said her little brother had gotten in contact with her.

           Marinette eyed the still tied up boy… her brother. He no longer struggled against his bonds, just stared with an angry expression on his face. “I don’t want to be Batman,” She told him. “The title is all yours. I like being Ladybug. It’s a name I earned, worked hard for. A name I’m proud of and will not part with easily. Is that something you can understand?”

           He stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly, “You created your own hero persona to find the terror entrapping your city; all by yourself. …Father did the same.”

           He said the last part with a sad tone that Marinette’s new found big sisterly instincts go haywire. “And you think just because you’re his… partner,” She said, instead of sidekick because she was sure that word would get her killed. “And not a solo hero, that he will find you unworthy of being his heir.” Marinette sat down next to him, and patted his hair softly. “Did you ever think that because he is the one who’s training you, that because you fight by his side, that he’d trust you more? Trust you to take up his mantle in the way he can’t trust me. He doesn’t know what I’m capable of entirely. But he knows exactly what you can do because he taught you.”

           Her brother scoffed but his face lost some of its anger and he seemed to relax.

“I’m going to untie you now,” She told him. “Do not attack me.”

           When he was untied and given back his sword, which he sheathed, Marinette brought over the food. “You know my name,” She said after he took a bite a cookie and seemed pleased with it. “What’s yours?”

“Damian,” He answered. “Damian Al-Ghul Wayne. How did you obtained magical powers? And what is the creature that thought it could hide from me?”

           Marinette just blink. Because Dammit Tikki. The pink ball of fluff out with a chastised look on her face. Unfortunately that look meant nothing as all the other Kwami Marinette now protected as Guardian thought that meant they could come out to.

           Plagg straight to Damian and sat on his lap, “Cheese. Now.”

           Marinette face-palmed. The Kwami had taken trying to declare dominance ever since Ladybug took the ring back from Chat Noir.

           Damian could only stare at the being, animal, and sprite as he reached slowly for a piece of cheese from the selection of food and handed it the small creature. That was all the other Kwami needed to rush to him for attention. Damian was easily mesmerized by the little creatures and saw no issue in showing them affection. Apart from the fact that Oracle, and Father, and thus the rest of the family were watching the feed, through the mask, while they attempt to locate him. Damian could only disable their trackers for so long. Annoying as she was, Oracle was a genius.

“Okay, little brother,” Marinette shrugged. “You tell me your story. I’ll tell you mine.”

           And so they did. The two siblings spent the next few hours telling the other all about their history. Neither were happy.

           Marinette was beyond furious that her little brother was raised by ruthless assassins, cast into the role of Robin (though mostly by his own doing), constantly risked his life, and had little no childhood.

           Damian was pissed, which was putting it nicely. His beloved sister had no training when she was charged with the task of defending the city as the hero Ladybug and fight a supernatural terrorist, dealt with sexual harassment from her once trusted partner, then her master died in battle but not before he bestowed one of the most powerful magical artifacts of all time to a teenager. To top it all off, his sweet sister was being bullied by a pathological liar who turned all her friends against her, nearly got her expelled, leaving her with little to no Allies to aid her in her fight against evil. Marinette had cried at the end of her tale.

           …He was going burn Paris to the ground.

           Little did he know, the Batfamily found it hard not to agree as they watched the livestream from the Batplane?

           Dick had gone from jumping up and down at the sight of his adorable new sister, Marinette. She was a hero called Ladybug, how cute was that? To being rather angry at what she had to put up with. It was too much pressure for a kid, superhero, superpowers, or not.

“What do we do?” Tim asked.

           Batman was still having trouble processing. He had another daughter; a beautiful little girl who seemed to have taken after him without ever having known the man. Nature versus Nurture, he supposed; nature won. Marinette who had been fighting to save her city like he fought to save his. Who was her mother? Why didn’t she tell Bruce he had another child? Granted Brucie wasn’t who most people thought would be an ideal father but still… Hadn’t he proved himself?

“Find Hawkmoth,” Jason growled. “Punch a hole through his face. And Send Steph and Cass to have a “Talk”, he air quoted. “With that Lila chick. While we have a little talk of our own with Chat Noir. End of story.”

           Cass nodded, gleefully, that little girl would pay for what she did to Cassandra’s sister. And if she was lucky, Lila would even live to tell the tale.

           Stephanie was wondering if the Batfamily, her sort of-adopted family, could really get away with murder.

           …Who was she kidding? They totally could.

“We don’t… kill?” Batman said as he turned around and stalked away. “I’ll inform Alfred of the development.” Maybe have him prepare a room, he thought with hope. He’d like his daughter to visit and feel at home whenever she could.

           When Batman left the area, Tim looked around at his siblings, “Did that sound like a question to anyone else?”

           Marinette and Damian fell asleep next to each other, with the Kwami cuddled close. The next morning she woke not only to sound to the sound of the Kwami but to the sight of five additional vigilantes heroes, in addition to the one from the night before, hovering around her room.

           Two girls who were discussing with Trixx and long about their abilities. A hero in mostly black and red, who sat on Marinette’s top bunk with Marinette’s laptop on his lap, and Pollen on his shoulder. Damian still had Plagg with him, which Marinette wanted to tsk at because she told him not to play favorites. A blue, clearly the oldest, was laying on the floor playing with the remaining Kwami like they were puppies.

           She sat up in her bed and tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She glared at Damian, “Want to explain?”

“Mornin, sunshine,” A guy in a redmask said, with Barkk on his shoulder, as he chopped on a leftover cookie, not noticing the way Tikki glared at him. “Name’s Red Hood. Real name Jason. Dad’s downstairs talking to your parents.”

           Dad?

           She glared even harder at Damian. He shrugged, “Marinette, these are our… brothers and sisters.” He said. “They were adopted.”

“You should get better security on your computer,” The hero on her bed said. “Name’s Tim. I go by Red Robin.”

“Cassandra,” One the girl introduced. “Blackbat.”

“Stephanie. Batgirl,” The other said.

“I’m Dick!” The one on the floor laughed. “Nightwing. Welcome to the family.”

Tim continued, “I’ve located all personal information on Lila Rossi. I believe we can now move forward with the plan.”

Jason clapped his hands together, “Awesome. Operation: Get That Bitch is a go.”

Marinette just started at them. Six. She had six siblings. One for every year ever asked for a sibling for Christmas. She just had one thing to say as she tossed the covers back over her head to hide from the world…

“Fuck. Santa.”

           Finding out Bruce Wayne, cough Batman cough, was her father was one thing. Meeting him in person was another. He stared at her with cool blue eyes that made Marinette realize she probably should’ve questioned where she got her own long before.

           Her parents had been surprised when Bruce Wayne walked into their bakery and asked to speak with them alone. Even more so, when he claimed to be the biological father of their daughter. It had been long conversation between the three. But Bruce made it clear that he had interest of just taking Marinette from them. However, he would like visitations and for her to spend time with him over the summers. And to take her out for the day so she could meet her siblings. Also, about adding Wayne to her last name.

           So that was how Marinette found herself sitting in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of Paris, in the best dress she ever designed herself, with her… family.

           The initial awkwardness was broken up by all her siblings. Though they seemed to know to how to behave in public, they had no problems messing with each other and teasing.

“How long have you been into fashion, Marinette?” Bruce, her Papa, (As her dad would always be her dad).

           She smiled, “Since I was really little. It’s my dream to have my own line.”

           Bruce’s eyes got bright at the chance to help his daughter, “I can help you with that. I can drum up a connect or two, to get you started.”

“He’ll throw money at it until someone cracks,” Jason translated which cause Marinette to laugh and Bruce to glare.

Marinette discovered Damian had snuck Plagg with him to the restaurant.

           Marinette just groaned.

“You brought Tikki!” Damian defended.

“I’m the holder of her Miraculous,” She hissed back as low as she could. “Paris’s main and sometimes only hero. I need her.”

           Damian huffed, “That’s no reason he shouldn’t be allowed to attend as well. He’s with me.”

           Before Marinette could continue the arugment…

“Wayne?” Gabriel Agreste asked, tailed by Natalie, Adrien, Chloe, and Chloe’s parents: Audrey Bourgeois and André Bourgeois. “Bruce Wayne?”

           Bruce put on his most charming smile as he stood up, “Yes and you are?” He put out his hand.

           Gabriel shook it, clearly wondering why the billionaire was there. “Gabriel Agreste.”

           Bruce nodded, “The fashion designer.”

“This is my son Adrien,” Gabriel introduced. “My assistant Nathalie. My longtime friend Audrey Bourgeois, of the Style Queen, and André Bourgeois, mayor of Paris, and their lovely daughter. We’re here for a quick lunch.”

“Same,,” Bruce nodded. “I’m here with my children. My eldest Dick, followed by Jason, Cassandra, Stephanie, Tim, Marinette and my youngest Damian.” He introduced them.

           At the sound her name, all the newcomers eyes went to Marinette. She gave them a small wave, “Good to see you again.”

“Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe gasped.

           Damian growled, “Dupain-Cheng-Wayne.” As he glared passed her at the blond boy, the former Chat Noir.

           The blond girl was stunned, “How could you not tell me?”

           Hadn’t the two moved passed their difference and become friends? The two girls, and Kagami and united together when the liar seemed to take hold of the rest of the class.

“No one knew,” Marinette defended. I didn’t even know, she wanted to add. But they had discussed and agreed on the story that Bruce and an unknown woman gave up Marinette to the Dupain-Chengs when she was born. Nothing scandalous about it.

           Gabriel paused as he tried to think of what to say. How did he not know there was Wayne living in Paris, that his son was classmates with a Wayne. The girl had power in her pinky when she was still in Nappies, then either of the older Bourgeois had currently in their entire bodies. She would’ve been a much better playmate for his son than Chloe; the vapid, girl that she was.

           Audrey was thinking nearly the same thing. “Such a brilliant daughter you have, Brucie,” She smoozed. “I still can’t believe she turned down the internship I offered her. I want her to come to New York with me, you know?”

           Bruce beamed, “I’m glad someone sees her brilliance.”

           This went on for a while as each of the parents tried their hands at flattering the billionaire.  Bruce finally had enough and all but dismissed them

“I’m glad our children our such good friends,” Gabriel said finally as he turned to leave.

           Marinette fought he urge to scoff. Adrien was not her friend.

           The boy in question looked anywhere but at Marinette as he left. He had chosen to side with the other students when the Ice’d out Marinette until the girl stopped being a bully and being mean to Lila. Even if he knew it wasn’t true. Most declared they weren’t her friends anymore. Alya said she’d never be friends with Marinette again.

Coward, Damian nearly hissed. When they were gone, he turned to Marinette, “The blond girl is your alley, correct?” He asked. “Your Queen?”

           Marinette nodded, “There’s Luka and Kagami as well.”

“I will test to ensure they are worthy to fight at her side,” He declared.

           The others nodded. Bruce got a dark look on his face, “We all will.” He would not allow his daughter to suffer another Chat Noir.

           That was it, Marinette thought as she threw down the sliver napkin, she was starting to hate Christmas.

           The end of the weekend the entire world knew that Marinette was Bruce Wayne’s daughter. This made going to school Monday morning a huge spectacle as paparazzi crowded the outside the bakery and outside the school. Each one trying to get the attention of Wayne’s crown jewel, new Princess of Gotham, as the media dubbed her.

           Suffice to say, Bruce had taken her to school that day flagged by Dick and Tim as her other siblings combed the city for traces of Hawkmoth.

           The principle had practically fallen over himself to speak with the Bruce Wayne. But quickly hid in the shadows, when the first thing Bruce said to him was, “Ah, yes, you’re the man who expelled my daughter without a proper investigation. I’ll be talking to you later. So will my lawyers.”

           Marinette tried to hide her blushing face her father walked her to class. Students did everything they could to get a look at her. Chloe and Kagami waited outside her classroom, that was practically bursting with noise.

           However She practically drop dead when Tim complimented Kagami’s sword fighting skill and offered to duel her, and Kagami blushed. Blushed. Kagami?

           Marinette shook her head as she kissed her father and brothers goodbye. This world just didn’t make sense anymore.

           The two other girls flanked Marinette’s side as they walked into class. All noise stopped instantly. Marinette didn’t even bother spare the other kids a glance as the three took a seat in back of the class.

           Chloe quickly pulled her into a conversation of the places she’d see that summer in New York.

“I’ll be spending the end of Christmas break in Gotham too,” Marinette said shyly. “I’ll open my presents there. Papa wants me there for the Wayne Ball was I can be properly introduced to society.”

           And not because Bruce Wayne was scared of what Alfred would do if he didn’t get to mean his new granddaughter before the new year. That and Martha Kent were the ultimate overprotective grandparents.

“A Ball?” Lila squeaked, poorly concealed jealously on her face. She still couldn’t believe the little twit was Wayne. IF she had, Lila would’ve been a hell of a lot nicer. No wonder Marientte always knew when Lila was lying. She probably knew the celebrities through her father. “You’re going to the Waynes’ Annual New Year’s Ball.”

“Everyone goes,” Rose awe’d. “It’s basically a red carpet event. I watch every year. And Selena Gomez had the most beautiful dress on last time.”

           Juleka hummed in agreement, “Clara Nightingale looked like a princess.”

           Marinette just shrugged as each of her classmates offered their input on what the Ball would be like. She wasn’t about to make nice with them. They had turned their backs on her, betrayed her trust. Her brothers and sisters had warned her to be watchful for phony friends.

           Alya, who’s face had been turning steadily more red, as the classmates speculated who Marinette would meet. “Girl!” She burst. “How could not tell me?”

           Marinette raised a thin eyebrow, “We’re not friends, Alya, by your own declaration. I don’t believe I have to tell you anything. And even when we were friends, I only knew you for two years. Why would I tell a journalist anything important about me?”

“She was right not to,” Kagami stated, “With how quickly you all turned on her, I’m surprised she ever told you anything at all.”

           Alya flinched back as if slapped. So did a few other students.

“It’s not fair,” Alya continued as if nothing happened. “I could’ve gotten so many interviews. OH! I could with you to the Ball. It’ll be bomb.”

           The three girls in the backrow just stared at her.

“We. Are. Not. Friends,” Marinette repeated slowly. “Kagami and Chloe, and their families are invited because Kagami. And. Chloe. Are. My. Friends. In fact, my only friends in class. Luka is invited as well as well as his family,” She turned to Juleka who turned bright red. “Luka will receive invite tonight. If you attend with him, I will do my best to be polite. My father allowed me to invite them so I would have additional company if it gets too busy. The Ball is invitation only.”

           Allowed? He insisted. Marinette doesn’t even know how he found out all their names and who their families were. For reason, Marinette had the gut instinct to blame a redhead and Tim. Batman wanted to test his daughter’s team. And if they were lacking… Well, he’d promised to shape them up. Or else.

“I’m going to the Wayne Ball!” Chloe shouted. “And you didn’t tell me. It’s mere weeks away. I need a dress. I need to tell Mother.”

           Kagami had frozen. She knew well that the Wayne Ball wasn’t just any high society event. It was the High society event. Her family had never been elite and rich enough to receive an invitation. “I thank you for the invitation,” She bowed her head. “It will be a pleasure to attend.” She paused as she pulled out her phone and stood up. “I must also tell Mother.” And with, she quickly left the room.

           Which was much more polite than Chloe who called her mom then and there.

“Mama!” Chloe sang, “Marinette invited us to the Wayne Ball this year!”

“WHAT!” Was heard from the receiver.

           Marinette giggled. She ignored the glare Alya sent her.

           Rose grasped Juleka’s arm and jumped up and down. “You’re going to the ball. Ahhhh!” She screamed. “What will you wear? Your hair? You have to take pictures.” Rose suddenly reared back and took a deep breath. “You’re going to walk the red carpet.”

“You know, Marinette,” Lila smiled sweetly. “I would be honored to help you navigate the world of a celebrity. The ball will be so stressful. If you needed me there, I’d be happy to attend.”

“No, thank you,” Marinette said. “My siblings have promised to guide me through. It will be a bonding experience.”

           Lila forced a smile on her face, “Of course.” She fought the desire to scream and throw a tantrum. How could this happen?

           Adrien on the other hand fought to keep the smile on his face. His father would not be pleased. He had instructed Adrien to get close to Marinette, and thus the Wayne family. Adrien hadn’t had the courage to tell his father that they weren’t friends anymore. And that because of the lack of friendship, the Agreste were not invited to the party of the year.

           Marinette went to bed that day with a smile on her face. The Christmas season may have started off rocky but it would get better.

           Suddenly her phone started buzzing like it was on fire.

           The first text she read was from Chloe: You’re dating Roy Queen?!!!!

           Marinette’s entirely body froze. Who?

           Suddenly, she got another text… From Jason: Hey Baby Bats, I need a favor! Can you fake date my friend Roy. I already told everyone you guys were a thing. Bruce is freaking out! Thanks! Love you.

           Her mouth dropped, raged filled her entire body. And then she remembered how she joked with Alya that she wanted a boyfriend last year for Christmas last year.

“FUCK SANTA!”

[popculturebuffet]

The Owl House: Enchanting Grom Fright: Happy Valentine’s Gays

Happy Valentine’s Day owl ladies, gentleman and non-binary folks! It’s time to finish off this holiday in proper style with a LONG overdue review of enchanting Grom Fright and even longer overdue coverage of the Owl House.  The Owl House was one of the best debuts of last year if not THE best, only in contention because Close Enough also started last year and looks to surpass regular show in terms of quality. But with stunning animation, tons of representation, and colossal worldbuilding. And given how i’m on record for thinking Star Vs went so far down the tubes they bumped into where Cthulu is sleeping, it’s nice to have another magic based show that seems to be on the right track: carefully building i’ts world, supporting cast and for today’s topic main romance. It also rather than just obliquely hint one character was bi and the other pan, actually goes out of it’s way to have a bisexual protaginst with a gay love intrest. As my good friend @jess-the-vampire has brought up quite a bit, star had plnety of options. .but no willingness to actually campaign for any queer rep, the way Gravity Falls head Alex Hirsch tried to, he still gets credit for trying, and Owl House creator Dana Terrace gets full credit for. 

Terrace got her start working on Gravity Falls in line production before working her way up to directing for ducktales, being instrumental in how Webby was animated and how she moves and acts, and being the director for several classic season one episodes including “Woo-Hoo!”, “The Spear of Selene” , “Day of the Only Child!” which was one of my faviorites from season 1 and “The Beagle Birthday Massacre!”. And while I can’t 100% confirm she’s the only part responsible for starting Weblena, given she was director on an episode where a lot of the romantic subtext was in the visuals, she certainly helped so thank you Dana. Thank you a lot. Their adorable. Point is she’s a talented lady and wasn’t satisfied with directing, so she pitched her own show, combining tons of ides and stuff including of all things, Pokemon Red. I checked the article wikipedia had sourced, it was one of her happy childhood memories as it was one of the last things her dad gave her. Awwwwwww. That’s as sweet as it is painful. She’s also currently dating Alex Hirsch, something I was entirely unaware of but find also adorable. Point is i’m glad I looked into her as she’s a very nice person, and very much my kind of weirdo and i’m happy for her sucess and her singuarly weird show that sprung from that sucess. 

Now that part of it’s out of the way the episode itself was an uphill battle as you’d expect. As anyone familiar with this blog is aware, but just in case your new, you tend to hear me bitching about Disney’s handling of queer represntation a LOT

For the most part Disney’s pretty bad at it: There was the string of “FIRST GAY CHARACTER IN AN X” they had going for a while.. that consisted of a character I dind’t realize was gay, a kiss I didn’t see, and a talk with a character who I honestly wouldn’t of been looking for had disney not patted themselves on the back with some giant sized hands because htey saved some pym particles for that occasion. Ducktales was unable to have Penumbra come out as gay more clearly because I don’t know Ducks can’t be day.. but they can be IMPLIED to be gay or pansexual as hard as the crew possibly can so they win anyway. Pixar was able to have a gay lead character for one of it’s sparks shorts out and even focused on him coming out of the closet and it’s very good and something I WILL give Pixar credit for... but not Disney Plus who go out of their way to not mention the lead being gay.. despite the fact the short opens with a gay space cat riding a gay space dog out of a rainbow and then it being revaled our lead is in a relationship not long into the short. My point is the idiots who won’t watch this for having gay characters are just going to turn it off, who cares what they think, why are you like this Disney. They need to do better, and be better and i’m getting tired of this shit.

That being said... this episode is a step in the right directoin as despite having to get past one obstructive asshole, not her words but damn if it isn’t the truth, as the rest of hte execs were fine with having a gay character, Terrace fought hard for it and WON, having a clearly gay character, and a clear road to a gay romace as the lead one, all because she wanted some representation in her works. So to honor this, I present this review in honor of love, effort and saying screw you to not having represntation because money. Join me under the cut and allt hat. 

We open in the owl house, in the owl house, duck dodge push and shove, it’s how we show our love in the.. you get the point. Luz is learning yet another Rune, this time plant runes.. and already something I love about the series pops up: the fact Luz’s rise in skill is gradual but noticable. Each spell noticably improves in potency with time,  going from simple lights to shaping them into simple constructs, and learning to control or time her spells and glpyhs so they launch she she says so, with each one getting more powerful the more she learns. And on top of that osmething I just noticed on rewatch of this episode is her tecnique in finding them evolved, something I dind’t notice the first time because I hadn’t fully caught up and checked this one out to see if Disney would actually let them go through with it.. and they did. Point is her first spell is found by accident, her second by realizing how her magic works fundemntally, both require skilled deduction and on the fly thinking and casting, so she’s already pretty skilled.. but now sh’es ACTIVELY seeking out a new spell here for the first time. She knows how she gets them, she knows each school is tied to a form, and she likely got the plant from williow since that’s her thing and she’s a saint. A demon but also a saint. They can have those too. It’s what I assume relicor is. 

I miss that goblin demon bat man. Point is it shows an evolution in Luz’s thinking: while it’s a subtle thing she took a more proactive approach this time even if it took a lot of practice.. and it pay soff as by the time of her next rune, while it’s once again sorta handed to her she has less time to learn it, almost none, and finds it singed onto a ball.. and learns it effortlessly to the point where by the next episode it’s a crucial plot point. IT’s subtle but clever character progression, and stuff I really enjoy, showing our hero going from a bit inept but not helpless or incomptient.. to a force to be reckconed with and far more clever and strategic than yo’ud expect given her sometimes reckless and almost always happy go lucky attitude. 

Luz worries teaching King about the internet was a bad idea because he gets excited about a literal cat fight which .. yeah... it was a bad idea but not because of that.. but because next he finds someone saying the earth is flat and she wisely yanks it away. It’s.. very sad that the absolutley maddening and easily debunked flat earth theory is still RELATIVLEY more sane than the stuff we’ve had pop up during the trump era and the cornoavirus pandemic. 

But one of the main conlficts of the episode pops up as Luz’s mom messages her and Luz can’t bring herself to tell her anything and just sends a thumbs up.  I do think this episode helps even things from the pilot a bit as it was a bit lopsided: While I got that Camillia was genuinely struggling with how to deal with Luz, and was offered an out and had to take it... the fact she sees NO problem with the normalcy camp, which comes off intentioanlly or not a sa parallel to conversion camps or camps to make autistic kids “Normal”. And as someone whose both bisexual and autistic, I naturally relate to luz way more as someone whose intrests sometimes just don’t quite fit with everyone else, and who dosen’t get how bad some of their actions were.  THat’s why this episode feels like a necessary course correction: Luz is shown to genuinely love her mama and feel guilty.. but we see camilia genuinlely loves and supports her daughter a bit more. While it was clear from the pilot this shows it more, with her genuinely just wanting to know her daughter’s okay and checking up on her, and giving me the feeling that possible consequences or no if something bad WAS happening or she didn’t hear from her for a long time, she would’ve drove up there to get her. It feels like the writers realized the implications they accidently created and wanted to fix it, though I can’t say for certain. But if so good on you for course correcting, not every show does that. 

But King encourages her, telling her she’s doing the right thing by lying and to “trust the demon on your shoulder”. Keep this in mind for later, but that joke is great on it’s own. But soon i’ts time for school and Hooty.. barfs out Luz’s books for her. 

I haven’t been this disturbed since.. (Looks at the clock) About 2 maybe three hours ago when I watched a man have, if apparently shorter than the oriiginal cut as I wanted to see everyone else’s reactions dammit, sex with hiis car which was possesed by the mad ghost of his dead wife. Because that’s the kind of stuff i’m into when i’m not reviewing stuff. And before that Tinky.. just everything about tinky. 

I do not have enough time to get into TInky here or why he exestially horrifies me. Or why Jeff blim is a living god. I will save that for a proper review if I have the time tomorrow. Point is I saw a lot today and that still tops it. Willow and Gus are likewise grossed out and want to leave. 

Cut to school where Luz wonders what’s with all the decorations.. that remind me of this honestly

And frankly given the whole state of the boiling isles it REALLY wouldn’t surprise me if the decorations were indeed well cooked faces. But i’ts Grom time, which means elaborate gromposals (Some Dude asks Skara out with a beating heart and an elaborate medical proposal.. which.. points for effort. And for using an actual heart. Couldn’t get one for mine. ), dancing and someone being chosen for Grom Queen. WHich Willow hints isn’t as nice as that sounds. Before we can get into that though Amity bumps into them and gets into a tizzy before meekly greeting “Luz.. and Co”. which.. not going to lie.. is my faviorite gag of the season. Just htw way she adds them and just the way Willow and Guz both smile widely at it as if to say “That’s us!”. Amity drops a note and snatches it back. This will be important later, you all know why, point is Amity becomes Grom Queen.. and is heavily depressed with Luz following her to find out why.  At the gym.. she does indeed ifnd out why: Turns out Grom is not some mutation of an earthname but is based around a horrifying entity lurking beneath the isles, Gromethious the Fear Bringer, who emerges from his slumber once a year and must be fought back and brings out his target’s greatest fears. Just like groundhog day only with less time loops and rodent abuse. Amity is scared of hers, and i’ll obviously get into this more later, and Luz simply suggests asking bump to opt out and Amity appricates the support. Awwww. 

Luz heads home and we find out Eda is chaperoning and King is mcing. Eda is also rocking a suit. Just damn girl, damn. But Luz considers taking her place.. and gets laughed at, with Eda assuming she’ll have to save her and King just being kind of a dick. I mean he’s a loveable thoroughly cuddly dick but he’s still a dick... just more like a stuffed plushie of one.  So basically exactly like Tinky. Look I mention him more than once in this review he dosen’t put me in the bastard box. It’s a great system.  Naturally this makes Luz more determined than ever to prove herself and she finds Amity in the night, with Amity having been unable to get out of it.. and Bumps a resonable guy, he just wants a substitute and no one wants the job.. except Luz who galdly volunteers and insists ntohing scares her before the giant spider on the back of her head proves otherwise. Because of course it does, spiders are fucking terrifying. Kill then all.. except the pokemon ones. Galvaltula are sweethearts. As are Ariadoses. Sweethearts who can elctorcute or poison you but still. 

So the next way Luz begins preparing.. and by that I mean it’s time for training. Sadly we don’t get an episode of Luz and Amity getting trapped in an 80′s fashion montage... I mean yes Rise of the TMNT also did that plot the same year, but we had two diffrent plots about someone getting trapped in an eldtrich sitcom and a THIRD this year, all entertaingly unique. Though we do get Luz pulling out an otter suit that’s adorable and she sadly still hasn’t worn yet. “This one says i’m an otter, with a dark side”. She also got thrown out of a school dance for.. wearing an otter suit. Okay the other things we saw in the pilot were understandable but htis is just.. baffling. Who cares what you wear to a dance as long as it isn’t horribly racist of nothing at all. 

Damn you flanders and your glorious ass. Point is Amity shows up and threatens hooty’s life because.. he’s hooty. The fact he isn’t dead already is a testiment to how badass he is and how much money he’d cost Eda to replace. Owl Tubes don’t come out of a stygian hole in the unvierse every day you know. That’s only every three years. It’s basic styigan owl tube science. 

But Amity wants her to be ready and that she’ll have to face her greatest fear.. and cue hooty popping up, poking amity in the face and asking if she wants to know her greatest fear. Really he can clearly hear everything in the house given he heard that, so he heard the death threat he just chose to ignore it. That.. was a mistake. And by mistake I mean we get a hilarious cut to the outside of the house as Luz tries to stop her love intrest from murdering her second mom’s tube monster. The result is some bandages and an eyepatch. To be fair that last one was just flaring up from a  previous beating. 

For this solem task of training, Amity has brought in her local disaster bisexuals.. aka her twin siblgins Eldric and Elmyra, whose greatest fears are dying alone and being stuck with Eldric. Both understandable. They conjur luz’s greatest fears which are.. some of the funniest shit I heard all year.. and also very relatable. Human souls in cat bodies, which is genuinely terrifying good job Luz, Jerks on the internet who mansplain things, relatable, and soy milk. 

But Amity knows this is just the openign act. it needs to be something deeper.. so while Luz dosen’t realize it’s probably her mom issues she brings up her issues with her other mom: that Eda dosen’t think she can do this. Hence we get a giant eda putting Luz in a babychair. Before we can unpack how wrong that sentence sounded, Eda comes out, and marvels at how hot giant her is. But she’s quickly distracted from sex with a giant version of herself, which is not an easy feat, by the relization “Wait Luz is going to fight grom isn’t she.. fuck i’m going to have to save her”, though Luz holds firm on doing it to prove she’s fine and dosen’t need to be saved constantly. it’s a good conflict. Eda IS right that Luz is not ready for this alone, that she’s overcompensating and that Eda would, in normal circumstances be the one to rescue her. As we’ll see it’s not her who does it but still, were this any other foe she probably would be. But Luz’s motivations are equally understandable: She wants to help her friend not have to do this and she wants to prove she can do it. She just wants her mentor, the only person in her life up to meeting her that GNEUINELY supported her in magic to respect her. To have faith in her and actually see how far she’s come. And given how her own mother writes off her dreams, if not unrealistically, and before this she had no friends or support system to speak of outside her mom, it’s easy to see why this is so improtant to Luz: she just wants to make the one person in her life whose ever support her actually think it was worth it when in truth Eda already thinks it does and just dosen’t want her to die. 

She’s just not good with talking to her or not condescending to her as her own ego is stacked sky high, probably because the whole curse thing meant Eda was an outcast by default and the system wants to either chain her to one form of magic and one only or shackle her to them as a hired goon. Her ego, while justified, is also a defense mechanism: a way to shield herself from the fact almost no one cares about her and one of the few people who DOES, dosen’t care what she wants or needs. Once the curse happened she lost just about everything and had to rebuild and thus build up walls around herself and kept everyone else at arms length till Luz changed her for the better. It’s just a tragic clash of two wills both with similar problems but both unwilling to talk about them. 

But with time up, our heroes need to get to the diggity dance. So they indeed do and we get some fun sight gags, Willow makes corsages,  that one girl with the cresent head somehow ended up with Mathomule and is not happy, as anyone who ends up with him should. And it’s time for Luz to face her destiny.. in a tux with a tutu because of course, and Amity likes it because also of course. 

IT’s time to rumble, with King getting nervous due to eda’s prodding about mcing since his co-mc gus is really good at it, and introducing our champion.

No wait sorry he’s still trapped in Mojoworld. no it’s still Luz who shows off a seasons worth of skill by easily dispatching the first few fears and saying to grom let’s finish it.. before grom puts a tentacle on her head. 

It’s to downlaod her fear.. which is Camillia. Granted we could all see it coming but still Luz obviously can’t fight her own mother or her own overwhelming guilt.. her mom did hurt her.. but she gets why and just loves her and wants her to be proud but dosen’t know what to do: tell her the trutha nd possibly loose a happy and fufilling life or wait until it all blows up. It’s a painful choice. So luz and king end up running. King runs first because he can’t handle it and Gus talks him back into the groove while Luz runs away because she can’t fight her own mom, understandable, and Gus encourages king to lead the crowd which he does. Amity and Eda follow Luz. 

So Luz is backed down, facing down a monster tha’ts going to go on to everyone else next if she fails... and Eda prepares to interfere.. but it’s AMITY who faces her fear and dives in. And we find out just what her fear was as grom turns into a humanoid shape and rips the letter in half.. it was a grom invitation. Though conviently the who it’s adressed to was ripped out. 

And yeah not going to save this one: It’s Luz. You know it I know it I didn’t even hide it in the intro. Even before the reveal in a bit it was obvious. But it also makes perfect sense. I’ve avoided talking about her character arc up to this point because I was waiting for now. Amity’s growth is the third major arc of the season behind Luz’s slow learning of magic and eventually induction into hexside and eda’s curse, which I lump in with Lilith chasing her since both were mildly entertwined and then entirely are once the reveal hits in the finale. When we meet her she’s an outright bully.. but we slowly see there’s more there. That she’s not really HAPPY or content, is contstantly under pressure by her family name, is outright bullied by her own siblings who don’t understand her. So Luz coming in, seemingly only being intrested in magic because i’ts neat.. understandably bothers her. She’s not a great person, bullying her old best friend because tha’ts what’s expected and being close with outright bullies because of that.. but it’s through Luz she starts to grow, realizing Luz is genuinely nice and genuinely sorry for any trouble she caused Amity, and evne then both cases were causaed by Amity’s own dickishness and outside forces, so it’s easy to see why she defrosts faster. Her siblings realize they’ve genuinely hurt her, and actually try to be good siblings from then on and help her, and slowly Amity learns to truth luz, trust in her, and accept her... and thus accept her feelings for her. There are gradual hints she’s growing attracted to her.. but her walls had to come down first, and it wouldn’t of worked from the outset. The show cleverly has the two build a genuine friendship, two opposities who work well together, so when feelings do happen it feels natural. It’s not “I’m in love with this person because I have to because you can’t be friends with someone your attracted to” bullshit or anything like that, cough star vs cough, it’s just well built catching feelings. I’ts how this kind of thing SHOULD go: niether went in intending for this to happen.. it’s just happening. 

And Amity’s reluctance is painfully understandable, as Luz is the ONLY friend and support she has. Sure she and willow are patching things up, but WIllow would understandably choose luz over her and she’s terrified of loosing the one good thing in her life. Of course Luz would either say yes, and probably will some day, or let her down gently, she’s nice.. but it’s also understandable to be afraid that someone won’t take the reveal well. I’ve been there trust me, it’s easier when you let it out even if you get rejected, but I get it being hard to let out because you don’t want to loose a friend. I did not, and niether would she, but I can see why she wouldn’t want ot take the plunge. At least not yet. We’ll see this summer hopefully. 

But we do get a shiptastic, gorgeously aniamted scene of the two dancing an fightin gin perfect synch, combinging luz’s new use of plant magic with amity’s mastery of abominations resulting in the two utterly decimating grom, likely in part because with two fast moving targets he can’t get a lock on and likely nees more fear and mass to attack multiple targets at once. Or just more tendrils. it’s a quick, beautful sequence that’s utterly glorious, being framed as romantic as any hetero scene of the type and rightfully so. A triumph and well deserving of this praise. 

Our heros have won, get crowns, and King gets praise. All is well.. except Luz drops the crown once she gets home because she feels like she failed and feels lost about her mom.. though at least king gets it “I’m king and queen, best of both things!”. You tell em sister. 

So we end with Luz genuinely responding to her mom, with some montage stuff as we see Gus and Willow poke a fear blob, willow fears bugs, understandable and Gus fears clowns... 

Also understandable. Though I didn’t put up a bug picture because

And Amity looks out folornly into the night. Camilla responds to Luz.. and mentions letters.. which while Luz brushes those off.. we see someone sent them. And by someone I probably mean king since we now know only eda and him had acess to the portal, and given he was actively encouraging her to lie.. yeah i’m supscious. But we’ll see next season. For now this episode is fan fucking tastic, showing off tons of character development, being representative and sweet as all hell.. and being really funny. Tons of great gags in this one including the turtle guy from an earlier episode being forced to be adisco ball.  This is easily the series best so far and if you haven’t checked it out, please do it’s fantastic as is this show. Check both out. Until the next rainbow i’ts been a pleasure. Tommorow more disney shenanigans this time with pete. And also more of this possibly we’ll see what I get done. 

Goodnight everybody!

[elencelebrindal]

Time to ramble about Shun

Sooo... you said you wanted my rambling to become reality. Here I go. 

Shun not holding back for the whole series would have been a disaster for our dear villains, let me tell you.  But let’s go in order. And I mean, from training to Hades. Obviously, this completely disregards the fact that Shun was Hades the whole time, because if I am to take that into consideration everything would end before starting.  Small disclaimer, this is mostly anime-based. I’ve read the manga, but my memory is so bad in remembering what was just manga and what was just anime, and I have a better memory for the anime.  Also, this is going to praise Shun a lot. No, not because of my undying love for this character, but because logically speaking, he’s freaking powerful; this young man stood against a god that was possessing his body, dammit. 

Now, his training.  Of course, I won’t even imagine Shun actually going to Death Queen Island, mostly because it was Ikki, and not him, the reason why he went to Andromeda Island instead.  What we know, is that Shun nearly awakened his Seventh Sense there and then, when he donned the Cloth for the first time. And we know that he won the right to the trial after winning a fight against his “rival”.  But, before winning, he took a good beating, because he held back.  What would have happened, in the eventuality that Shun did not hold back? Well, probably just quicker access to the trial for the Cloth, but also... this might be the only time Shun not holding back would have affected him negatively.  What if he, by not holding back, lost his right to the Cloth? Andromeda is famous for her sacrifice, after all, not for her brave charging into battle.  This is mostly my own idea about it, because of course Shun was destined to become the Andromeda Saint, but luckily he held back, and only fought when he needed to. 

That aside, now it’s time to tackle all the positive things that could have happened had he not held back. 

Galaxian Wars / Black Saints Arc (forgive me, I forgot the actual name)

We had a taste of how smart and capable Shun is during his fight against Jabu, but all of that was thrown away thanks to Ikki’s appearance. Now, this doesn’t mean than Shun completely lost his competence, but he definitely held back for the sake of his brother.  This is obvious when we take into account the fight they all have against Ikki, when Shun tries to help his brother rather than stop him.  We already saw how dangerous Shun can be, when he faced Black Andromeda, so it’s easy to understand how much easier it could have been for the Bronze to stop Ikki if Shun was there to actively help against him.  Sure, he helped in the end, but he was probably the only one (at least at that point, because remember, he was the only one to have almost awakened the Seventh Sense) capable to stand his ground against Ikki.  Seiya’s success was more plot than skills, honestly speaking.  Shun could have been infinitely helpful, at least in making sure they earned a faster victory with less blood spilled.  To me, what we know about Shun’s power (though it’s only revealed later) makes it that he has a huge advantage that is ignored because of 1. Shun’s personality and 2. what’s needed for the plot and what was known of the plot. You all know he’s my favorite Bronze, at this point, but following a logical reasoning I cannot find something against this. 

On a side note, can you imagine how fast he would have destroyed Black Swan, if only he used his brain and not his heart?�� Considering the outcome of his fight against Black Andromeda, and his knowledge about Hyoga’s techniques (which are kinda imitated by Black Swan), it’s not difficult to imagine he would have won.  He wouldn’t have done as good against all of them together, at this point of the story, but a one vs one fight would have definitely seem him victorious. 

Silver Saints Arc

I have no clear memory if that Docrates mess is in this arc or the one before it (the Italian division is a bit different and it confuses the hell out of me when I have to switch), but let’s put him here.  Because come on.  Shun getting thrown around like a doll? Yeah, no. Docrates might be a powerful - and not so brilliant or likable - warrior, but to the point of overwhelming a Saint like Shun with so much ease? I hardly believe it. I can  believe Shun having a hard time against him, especially considering how they won that fight.  Full power, I think Shun could have helped way more. I’m not saying he could have defeated a beat like Docrates all by himself, not at that point. Hyoga’s help was crucial for him to actually deal an effective blow.  But I’m pretty convinced they could have had a bit of a better time - especially Saori - because power makes the difference, even if it’s not enough to turn the tide without aid. 

Continuing with the same arc, we have another example of Shun being extremely competent and showing how strong he is when he doesn’t hold back.  How long did it take him to completely obliterate a Silver Saint? Not even enough to appreciate how badass he was.  It didn’t seem forced at all, more importantly! Most times, especially with Seiya, their victories seem so... well, convenient that it’s hard to believe they’re actually strong enough to beat their enemies. The plot armor around them is stronger than their actual armor, from time to time. This fight against Dante, instead, felt completely genuine. Shun and Ikki beating so easily two Silver Saints seemed incredibly normal and realistic, rather than feeling forced by the plot.  Of course, all the other characters have their genuine moments (yes, even Seiya), but I wanted to point this out for Shun in this particular instance because it’s necessary to understand how underrated he is. 

Sanctuary Arc

Moving on, we have what I like to call “Shun could have choked Saga to death and ended the entire Sanctuary Arc in less than five episodes”. Listen, does it seem so unreasonable? If it does, remember how Shun (with Ikki’s help, this is not something I’m ignoring, I like Shun but I don’t play dirty here) used his chain to break free of the Other Dimension (a place that’s supposedly impossible to leave? Hello????) and literally reached Saga where he was sitting.  What the hell, are we just ignoring the fact that he legitimately broke into the throne room of the most protected place of the entire Sanctuary, stole Saga’s cheap-looking trinkets, and shattered his control over him? For god’s sake, I’m SURE he could have at least managed to try and kill Saga where he was.  I’m aware he had no idea what the hell was going on, but had he used a bit more of his cosmo? A bit more of his concentration and intelligence? To me, it seems really weird that he only properly awakened his Seventh Sense so late in the arc. If Seiya was able to screw the plot over and get his precious Seventh Sense so early and easily, why wasn’t Shun given the same opportunity? Well, I know why, plot and everything, Shun’s actual power was still very much a mystery, but I’m going chronologically, and by logic. And what logic tells me is: Shun should have awakened his goddamn Seventh Sense there, realized he was stealing costume jewelry from the Pope, and at least knocked him out for the next couple hours.  For as much as i like joking about it, I know Saga is smarter and stronger than the average guy, Shun wasn’t going to be able to strangle him with the chain. But a good old pointy cosmo-powered chain to the forehead, well... come on. Would have been hilarious, other than useful. 

For the rest, the arc was pretty amazing.  His sacrifice for Hyoga? Yeah, he wasn’t holding back there.  And the fight against Aphrodite we all know how incredible it was.

Something I’m going to point out is how much Shun held back against Leda and Spica. That was all his personality, but he was able to defeat both of them in a couple seconds as soon as he used his true power.  I don’t really want to count that as holding back, but I have to. Because he was keeping his strength low, and it counts.  That was a time loss that could have been avoided. 

Asgard Arc

Now this, this makes me mad.  As soon as Shun leaves canon territory, it gets turned into this weak warrior with no desire to fight.  Either that, or he gets to fight but accomplishes little.  And this is exactly what happened in this arc. 

By now, we know how lethal Shun can be, and we know he awakened his Seventh Sense. It’s not theory anymore, it’s not fan wishes anymore, it’s Shun with one more sense to deal with.  And what happens? They give him the fight against the only enemy his goddamn chain doesn’t want to hit. Of course he gets that, and that his - actually beautiful - personality refuses to fight and instead insists on diplomacy.  Now, I loved that. I love how Shun tries to find a peaceful way around the war. But, once again, this is not the point of my rambling.  The point of my rambling is: Shun shouldn’t have needed Ikki to come and save the day.  Let’s take away Mime’s tragic backstory for a second, and let’s put Shun in the “classic” mind of a Saint; fight the enemy to the death, or die trying.  Shun would have won without any help. Sure, Mime is powerful, but Shun is as well. And we know that Shun is capable of facing enemies that use music as a weapon (as we learn later, in the Poseidon Arc).  Also, I’m pretty positive he has control over his chain, is not like the chain is going to ignore him like that. That weapon has a mind of its own, that’s true, but seriously speaking Shun has to be able to control it more than the chain controls itself.  That, and Shun himself refused to recognize Mime as an enemy.  Without holding back, Shun would have seen him as a proper enemy, and fought with no chain deciding “oh no no no, this is a friend!” like an overly friendly puppy.  Wrongfully, maybe, because as we learned Mime was, in fact, not a real enemy, but that’s not the point. 

Syd doesn’t really count. Shun was actually standing his ground against him, and incredibly well.  The reason Shun didn’t win right there and there was not him holding back, but the plot advancing and throwing Bud at him.  I don’t know how high I should hold this opinion, though, because to me it seems a bit weird that Bud is so powerful/stealthy that no one realizes he’s there. I’ve been skeptical about him, especially considering how he incapacitated freaking Aldebaran, but it is still a good reason for Shun not having won the fight.  Stealth can be more effective than raw power, sometimes.  Though, I believe Shun (and Aldebaran, for what it counts) should have been able to sense him. What, they’re going to show us the Saints can sense any kind of cosmo approaching them or far from them, but not realize that there’s someone right behind them ready to strike? Eh, it’s bizarre. 

Poseidon Arc

Right off the bat, he got his moment to shine against Io.  THAT, my friends, was incredible, and if Shun didn’t hold back - because he did, to avoid killing him, bless his merciful soul - Io would have died pretty easily.  Shun claimed his rights as Gold Saint, there, didn’t use all his power, and still beat the everloving soul out of him. 

Also, the fight against Sorrento? Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.  I literally have nothing to say, he had a reason to hold back there, and I will not give him a forced victory. Sorrento was on his level, and even though I think the Nebula Storm would have killed him (remember, that technique keeps getting more and more powerful the longer it’s used), they were pretty equal.  Shun didn’t hold back, save for when he understood what the hell was going on and got an ally. 

What I didn’t like, however, was how harshly he was treated when Poseidon was the threat. Damn, I’m not saying he should have been able to face a god, not without a Gold Cloth and not alone, but jeez, he ended up being completely ignored.  Like “wait, I’ll help!”, and then poof. Disappeared.  But in this instance, not holding back wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Unless you want to be 100% full of logic, and use the fact that Shun was already a vessel for a god, there’s no viable excuses for him to be able to fight a god on his own.  Not at that point in time, and not in his conditions.  Things work only if they can work. 

Hades Chapter

I don’t have much to say here.  Shun was incredible, he fought without holding back for almost the entire series, and showed an almost merciless side. A good handful of that behavior was Hades, if we go by how Shun was portrayed beforehand, but I like to believe he finally got his time to shine and acted competent again.  After hall, he had his angry moments back in the classic, they were no different from this chapter. 

What I will say, however, is how they diminished him in Elysium.  Because let’s face it: a Saint that not only survived one of the most powerful gods ever possessing him, but also tricked and held him back, had every single right to be powerful enough while wearing a God Cloth to obliterate Hypnos from the face of Elysium.  How are you telling me to believe that the same person that defeated the god of the Underworld just... fell asleep against a minor deity? He was the first to get his God Cloth without the plot aiding him (yes, I’m still salty about Seiya), yet he did nothing, and got defeated by Hypnos like he was a weak little boy.  I understand he’s a god, but Hades was worse! I’ll tell you what would have happened. Shun would have sent Hypnos’ sorry ass back in the void he deserved to be in (I actually like Hypnos okay, Shun doesn’t) without batting an eye.  Surely someone that was able to withstand Hades’ power - and overwhelmed it, even if for a short time - could resist some minor god’s power. 

To conclude, on the same not, Shun should have definitely punched Hades in the face.  He was probably the only one strong enough to do so, aside from Athena. And probably the one with the right to do so, also. 

This is probablt the stupidest rambling I’ve ever wrote on this blog, but I regret nothing. 

[jemej3m]

Listen bud, hunger games au, Andrews the mockingjay, Neil’s been captured by his dad aka the game maker

if you’re looking for an extended hunger games au @gluupor‘s on ao3 is my all-time favourite, but here’s a oneshot (are oneshots all i know how to do??)

*

Andrew doesn’t want to be here. The whole place is writhing with death and misery, but there’s a whole camera crew asking him to interact with these people, these men and women and children who are fighting and dying for an idealistic cause. 

Andrew is not an empathetic person. Kevin says that doesn’t matter. Just the sight of him, with his Mockingjay pin, will be enough to inspire hope. 

At least he’s here, shepherding Andrew around, doing all the talking. Nicky’s being all amicable too, crouched by overcrowded beds and talking nonsense. Aaron’s probably somewhere, being useful. 

His team. His support. Coming out onto the front lines with him, because they genuinely believed that Andrew was going to change the world.

When Andrew volunteered in Aaron’s place, he didn’t think he’d ever see his family again. 

Just goes to show: nothing is predictable. Not in a world like this. 

Andrew beelines for the lonely kids, the ones without parents, shunted into the corner. There’s one with a stump instead of an arm, like Kevin, and one who was avoxxed in the raid, like Nicky’s boyfriend. They all learned sign language for him, so Andrew kneels on the floor and says hello.

The kid’s eyes light up when he realises Andrew can talk to him. The others get excited too, crowding around.  

They ask him questions. He talks whilst he signs, keeping his voice low. He tells them what sunrise looks like from the capitol’s training tower, how to properly throw a knife, why you choosing your family is important, and protecting them even more so. Their eyes are as wide as saucers, drinking in every word. Andrew has always been good with kids. 

He realises that the cameras have been trained on him and stops talking. The kids get sad, but then a nurse comes around to move Andrew along so that they can have their checkups. Andrew hoists himself up off the ground, ignoring his cousin as he comes closer. He has tears in his eyes. 

“That was beautiful,” he says. “Neil would -” 

“Shut up,” Andrew snaps, because there’s a lot of things he tries not to think about, and Neil is one of them. 

His and Neil’s story is a long one. Andrew was in the 5th district, the fostered son of the mayor. He had a best friend, one he didn’t tell anyone about lest his older brother, Drake, discover how pretty Neil was. Neil’s mother was overprotective, hiding him away from the public eye, but together they would climb outside the district’s boundaries and play together in the woods. 

Then Andrew met his biological family when Major Cass Spear was invited to the 12th district for diplomacy. He decided to stay. He was twelve at the time: he and Aaron entered the reapings that year. His cousin had three years left, but would never be voted in: he was also the son of a terrible mayor. When Nicky turned 18, Tilda died, his parents disowned him, and he looked after the twins for another 2 years before Aaron was reaped and Andrew took his place. 

That year, a scrawny seventeen year old from the 2nd district, who wasn’t a career tribute, volunteered himself. It wasn’t until Andrew had met all the tributes in the capitol that he realised who that kid was: Neil, his childhood best friend, who was fulfilling an old promise of protection. 

Andrew had hated him quite a bit for it: only one of them was meant to escape the arena. There were bets placed on how soon Andrew would kill him and how. None of them knew the truth. None of them knew that Andrew would rather die than kill Neil. 

So, in the end, when it’d just been the two of them, they swore a truce. They fought against the capitol’s attempts at whittling them down till the capitol gave up. Andrew thought they’d beat the system: it took him a hellish victory tour, another trip back to the arena and losing Neil to the capitol to know that wasn’t true. 

Neil. Neil, Neil, Neil. The other reason Andrew doesn’t want to be here. Neil’s back in district 13, recovering from his weeks spent being tortured at the capitol’s hands. The rebels weren’t given the chance to grab him before the capitol snatched him away. Andrew had paced grooves into the ground during his absence. 

And when he came back? Well, Andrew would’ve rathered that Neil forgot him entirely. Instead they - his father, his worst nightmare and most talented gamemaker in the capitol - had turned Neil against him. Made him loathe Andrew with every fibre of his being. Enough so that he’d tried to strangle Andrew when they’d first been reunited. 

He is better now, but still avoiding Andrew at every possible junction. Andrew inexplicably still wants to stay by his side. Abby says his memory will return with time. Andrew will just have to wait. 

Nicky’s eyes go wide. “I thought you were going to sort things out with him -” 

But then Kevin is yelling, sirens are wailing. The hospital begins to dissolve into panic. Andrew only has to hear someone yell “Bombs!” to understand, being directed out of the building. Someone’s trying to set up artillery to shoot them down. It’s too late. Andrew’s lot makes it out, but only a handful of patients are able to stumble out after them before the building explodes. Andrew looks over his shoulder as they’re running towards where their helicopter is descending. The warehouse structure has collapsed inwards. Those who hadn’t died in the explosion are being torn apart by shrapnel and debris. All those kids. Gone. 

“Turn the camera on,” he murmurs, holding out his hands. The bomber planes aren’t turning around, but there’s a second fleet of carrier craft behind them, bringing peacekeepers by the dozen. 

“Andrew,” Aaron says, stricken. The camera’s red light is already flashing. 

“This is what you get for remaining neutral,” Andrew spat out, flinging a pointed hand behind him at the burning hospital. “Massacred. Think about that next time you assume the capitol will be on your side.” 

He’s facing away from the carnage. It’s the only reason that he doesn’t see the peacekeeper aim and fire. He doesn’t even realise he’s been shot until the rest of him start screaming. 

By then it’s too late: he’s falling, falling into darkness, wishing that he’d never involved himself in this stupid rebellion in the first place. 

*

He blinks awake and stares at the ceiling. District thirteen, being a burner district, doesn’t have many variations in its ceilings, but Andrew knows this one all too well. 

He’s in the hospital. 

His hands go to his arms: the armbands are still there, but they’re rolled down and his knives are gone. There’s a morphine drip in his left elbow and fluids in his right. He can barely feel his body. 

“I have your knives,” says a familiar voice. Andrew has to be dreaming. 

Neil’s appearance has always fluctuated: when they’d first met, his hair had been black and his eyes natural blue. During the games he’d started off with brown hair and brown eyes, but a lack of resources meant that he’d ended up forgoing the contacts and letting his roots grow out. He’d forgone the brown eyes but kept up with the dye till the second games, which hadn’t lasted long enough for any major changes. 

Now he is fully and unequivocally Nathaniel Wesniniski, son of Nathan, scarring on his cheeks, arms and torso telling a narrative that is a hard-won fight. Nathan and his lackey Lola had both been killed brutally in Neil’s rescue. Andrew is glad.

“Hey,” Neil says, when Andrew isn’t exactly forthcoming. “How are you faring?”

“You’re not here to finish the job?”  

Neil’s lips quirk. “Drama queen. Your suit was fitted with kelvar: there’s a lot of bruising, but you’ll be fine in a week.” 

Andrew drops his head back down onto his pillow. “Dammit.” 

Neil snorts. He’s in a good mood. Andrew can tell he’s still on edge, but he was always a paranoid kid. It’s not going to take some genial bedside manner to undo everything his father did. 

“I know that everything they told me was fake,” he says, looking at the knives in his hands. “I have always been a jumble of identities and false pretences. This  shouldn’t be news to you.” 

Andrew just hums. He can’t even wiggle his toes. How the hell did they had stuff this strong down here? They were all eating onion slop rations but had morphine good enough to even send Dan into a spiral.  

“I gave this knife to you,” Neil continues, holding up a sleek blade. Matte black. Andrew’s sharpest blade and perfectly weighted for throwing. “This was my mother’s. You must have been very special to me if I gave you this.” 

“I hate you,” Andrew says. 

“Are you sure?” Neil asks. “Because I’m not.” 

Andrew just huffs. 

“I remember...” he hesitates. “I remember us. Together. In your district 12 victory house, after the tour...then again, in the tower before the 75th games.”

Andrew stares at the wall opposite him. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation. “It didn’t mean anything.” 

“I think it did,” Neil says, softspoken. He’s never soft-spoken. “My father - he couldn’t create new memories. He could only twist old ones. For me to hate you as much as I did, I must have really...You know. Lo-” 

“Don’t,” Andrew says, because this a war and if he hears something like that fate will go against him. “I’m not your answer, Neil.” 

Neil shrugs. “Okay.” Then, with methodical precision, he checks Andrew’s vitals, removes the needles and rolls up his bands. Then he slides the knives in place, fingertips briefly brushing over Andrew’s skin. Andrew, for some reason, lets him. 

“Your last morphine dose was seven hours ago,” Neil says, settling back into his chair. “It’ll wear off soon. You were asleep for nearly 2 days, did you know? Aaron says the bruising is horrific. You probably won’t be able to move for another 3 days. But hey, at least all the districts are in revolt now. You getting shot on camera actually helped the cause...” 

He chatters innocuously. Andrew listens. Neil’s still nervous, still schooling his bodily reactions of hatred and disgust, but he’s here anyway. Distracting Andrew from his own snare of a mind. 

Maybe there’s goodness in this terrible, terrible world. 

Maybe Andrew can have it. 

He’ll just have to live long enough to find out.

*

yeehawwww

[blueaura]

Lost and Found Ch. 4

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has liked or re-blogged this story so far. I really appreciate it. Sorry for the delay. This chapter is all Sam and Y/N. Dean will be back in the next one. As always, any tips or suggestions are welcome. Feedback would be amazing. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Sam and Dean meet a young hunter who is a little rough around the edges and they reluctantly take her under their wing. But she might be a little more connected to them that any of them realise.

Word Count: 1.7k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The door slammed behind Dean, leaving Sam and Y/N in silence in the motel room. She refused to look at him. She didn’t know what to do, how to act. Things had been going well. For the first time in years, her life was somewhat okay. She had even been having a great time hanging out with the Winchesters. Just her luck that it was all screwed to hell now.

The awkward silence continued as Sam finished patching himself up. She went back to looking at the floor, feeling guilty that Dean hadn’t even been able to patch Sam up properly.

This is why you can’t go with them. You will just end up hurting them. That’s what you do.

She forced herself to ignore her thoughts and looked for a distraction. Moving towards Sam, she slapped his hand away from where he was trying to wrap his ribs and took over. Just act normal, she decided. Nothing’s changed yet. Dean isn’t your fa- your anything. These guys are just reaching for something that isn’t there.

Sam observed Y/N as she continued her task, lost in her thoughts. He felt bad about just blurting his suspicions out loud instead of confronting Dean in private. Clearly, he had hit a nerve, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly. Y/N’s grip faltered for a second. She sharply exhaled but gave no response, almost done with the bandages. Sam tried again.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you –”

“You didn’t,” Y/N said sharply, “you didn’t spring anything because there is nothing to be sprung – or whatever. You’re wrong. So, Dean slept with my mom, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t the only one! I don’t know why you have this idea in your head but it’s –”

She stopped and took a shuttered breath.

“It can’t be true. She told me he died. She told me he abandoned us. If this is true, that means she lied. She lied to me my whole life! When I was little, I dreamed about having a family. A family that loved me, that cared for me. Then I grew up, and I don’t want that anymore. So, I don’t want it to be true. It’s better that way, for everyone.”

She moved away from Sam as she finished patching him up. She could feel his eyes following her, the pity in them making her blood boil. She wasn’t broken. She was a survivor, dammit! And she didn’t need anyone’s pity.

“Stop,” she snapped at him, “Stop looking at me like you want to fix me!”

“I’m not!” Sam defended, “I just… I can’t imagine going through that. I mean, we didn’t have the best childhood but I always had Dean. He pretty much raised me. I don’t know where I’d be without him. I don’t pity you Y/N, I admire you. You’re stronger than I was – than I still am.”

She was speechless. Strong? He thought she was strong? The guy who fought the devil and won, who saved the world a hundred times over, thought she was strong? That was hilarious.

“I’m not strong, Sam. I can barely keep it together on a good day. If you knew some of the things that I’ve done…” she trailed off, averting her eyes.

“You think Dean doesn’t struggle? I don’t? Y/N, just the fact that you’re still going is enough to tell me what kind of person you are. You’re a fighter, and everything you’ve done, you’ve done to survive. You think I’m going to judge you? I’m not the most moral person around, in case you haven’t noticed,” Sam smiled wryly at her, urging her to look at him.

“Whatever you choose, or whatever happens, we won’t just abandon you. You know that, right?”

She saw the sincerity in his eyes and it tugged at her gut. She couldn’t figure out why they cared so much. They barely knew her. They certainly didn’t owe her anything, hell – Sam was hurt because of her. Even after she had tried to make Dean angry, they just wouldn’t let her be, and she couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why. So, she asked him.

“Why?” It was barely a whisper but Sam heard her anyways.

“Is it because you think I’m family somehow? And what happens when you find out that I’m not? I know you’re confident about your assumption. Is that why you both are so dead set on helping me? I don’t get it. I mean, I’m nobody.”

Sam sighed.

“No. I swear, this is half the reason I think you’re Dean’s daughter. You’re just so much like him. Neither of you understand your worth,” Sam said tiredly.

“Kiddo, you don’t need to be family for us to do the decent thing. In case you forgot, Dean offered you a place with us before we even made the connection between your mother and him. And yes, I was hesitant, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want you with us. I was concerned – we don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping our friends safe. I just didn’t want you to get caught up in something and end up dead,” Sam continued.

Y/N realized the truth in his words. Dean did offer to take her with them before they even found out how young she was.

“Also, you have so much potential. You’re a good kid and we happen to like you. It’s just that simple. Don’t overthink it,” Sam ordered, starting to figure out how her mind worked.

“I’m not overthinking. I’m just looking out for myself, I guess. I’ve met too many people who wanted to ‘help’ me before. They just pawned me off to the authorities the first chance they got. I don’t want that happening again, I’m fine on my own,” she reluctantly admitted.

Sam’s heart dropped. He’d heard the horror stories about foster care before, and from the way Y/N was acting, her experience didn’t seem to have been a pleasant one.

“We’re not going to do that kiddo, I promise,” Sam pleaded with her to believe him.

“And if I decide I don’t want to come with you guys? Will you leave me alone?”

“You know we can’t do that. I said we’re not going to hand to over to the CPS, I never said anything about letting you go off on your own. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, Dean wouldn’t let me. He gave you two options kiddo, you gotta pick one.”

He walked across the room to the mini-fridge and took out a beer. Walking back to the table, he twisted the cap off and took a drink before setting it down. Y/N eyed his beer and then the fridge, hoping to get one herself. It had been a long day. She started to move towards the fridge.

“Don’t even think about it.”

She glared at him but sat back down on one of the beds.

“I for one, would prefer if you came with us,” Sam carried on their previous conversation, “I know it’s dangerous, specially now, but leaving you with Jody doesn’t feel right. I’m sure Dean would agree. We won’t force you, of course. And even if you do choose Jody, Dean will probably want to check on you from time to time. So, you’re kind of stuck with us now kiddo.”

Sam was entirely to gleeful for her taste as he said his piece. Neither option sounded particularly delightful to her. Either way, she would have to submit to someone’s authority, which would be fine for a normal fifteen-year-old, but she was terrified of not having control. She’d probably also be made to join school again if she chose to go with Jody. The sheriff’s ward couldn’t exactly skip schooling. The thought of school terrified her. She hadn’t been to one in forever.

“Hey, tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours,” Sam urged her to talk to him. He could see the building tension in her shoulders as she got lost in thought, and couldn’t figure out why she was so upset about them being in her life. They weren’t that bad.

“I don’t wanna go to school,” she blurted out, scratching at her rope-burnt wrists. Sam reached out and grabbed her hands, stopping the anxious action. He realised she still hadn’t treated them and went to fetch the medical cream and some bandages.

“Why?” he asked as he started in on her wrists.

“I – I don’t – I just don’t want to,” she was stuttering, which surprised Sam. She had never faltered once in the little time he’d known her. She came across as quite a confident young woman. Maybe they just didn’t know her very well, he realised.

“Okay,” he simply stated. “You don’t have to.”

He didn’t know why she was so opposed to school but he could take a guess. Her mom died when she was 11 and she had been on her own ever since. It wasn’t hard to figure out that she probably hadn’t seen the inside of a school in a while. Whatever it was, she was clearly bothered by it, so he would leave it alone for now. He didn’t want to give the poor kid more anxiety than she already seemed to have.

Y/N was still breathing fast as Sam finished with her wrists. He let go of her hands and gently put his own on either side of her face, urging her to look at him.

“You’re okay kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.”

The tears surprised her. She didn’t normally cry, but she’d had a hell of a day she supposed. So, instead of being embarrassed about crying like a little girl, something she detested normally, she threw herself into the gentle giant’s comforting arms, giving in to the overwhelming emotions she’d been through in the past few hours.

“Shh, it’s okay kid. Everything’s gonna be okay,” Sam consoled her, gently running his hand over her head as she burrowed herself into his chest.

If only she could believe him.

Chapter 5

TAGS: @vicmc624​ @buttercookiemachoman​ @carisi-sonny​ @zizzlekwum​

If anyone else wants to be tagged, please send me an ask (: Thanks for reading!

[step-on-me-khun]

Hello! I wanted to ask if you could do a scenario or one-shot, really your choice, of jealous Khun leading to some nsfw, preferably it not being a established relationship but if it is that’s fine too. I really don’t mind either way. Ty :>

❤️Thank you for the request, I hope you like and enjoy. I made it a lemon, and I might’ve overdone it sorry... 2607 words, damn ❤️

There had been certain feelings building up inside Khun, something he wasn't really keen on bottling inside himself. But getting rid of those feelings wasn't very easy, especially when it was to do with you: someone he'd know would be oblivious as to his feelings, and how jealous he was whenever you were talking to guys, any of them, inside the group and outside the group.

He hated it, and he wanted to tell you just how you meant to him, and how he wanted to have you all to himself. It was getting him agitated and annoyed. It was something that was both easy and difficult for him.

It would be just as difficult in meetings, where he was supposed to be more focused on the situation that was going to be handled. Instead, his thoughts spiralling out of control, making him just as annoyed as ever.

That was the current problem, and it was obvious that something was eating at him. He was close to snapping at anyone, it made the atmosphere very uneasy and heavy.

Shibisu was the one who decided that now wasn't a good time to have a meeting, letting everyone else head back to there own rooms. There was silence in the air as everyone left.

You were last, your feet bringing to the door frame, you were stopped by Khun, who was trying to calm himself down.

"I need to talk to you about something, (Y/N)," he says, as softly as he could.

You sighed, eyes rolling as you turned to face him. It was clear he was tense.

The door was closed behind you, everyone had left the room, and it was just the two of you.

"What is it?" You ask, a little unnerved by his behaviour, which was something that had been affecting you and everyone else all day, although he'd been trying to hide it, and failing.

You couldn't help it if you were uncomfortable.

He seemed agitated, exhaling sharply and biting down on his lower lip. His feet moved forward, they walked him up to you.

"I'm just not keen on you talking with total strangers," he says, his voice low.

He was directly in front of you, his eyes staring down at you. It was a bit intimidating.

"W-what are you talking about?" You ask nervously, eyes looking anywhere other than on him.

His hand took a hold of your jaw, pulling your face up to his.

He smirks, "Do I have to spell it out to you?"

"You're too close," you complain.

"Tough, you've been driving me crazy for a long time, I can't stand watching you with those idiots, I'd rather have to you to myself,"

You quickly realized what he said, your eyes widened, hand trying to move his away and failed.

His mouth collided with yours, you turned red and gasped, a little surprised.

You kept trying to shove him away but soon melted into the kiss, your eyes closed.

Maybe this was his problem, that's what you were thinking. The reason his mood seemed to be a bit off, how he was extremely off-putting to everyone, the way he kind of watched over you as you talked to anybody. He was jealous. Maybe, or maybe not. You couldn't really help but try to think of the reasons behind his current actions.

Your hand clung to his shirt like you were afraid to let go of him.

His hand pulled your face away, giving you a while to catch your breath. You were both flustered, his steely blue eyes gazing into yours.

"Why?" You ask, trying to avoid giving him eye contact.

"'Why' what?" He asks in a teasing tone.

You sighed, eyes back up at his, "You know what I mean. Why did you kiss me? Why have you been acting like a horrible asshole?"

His hand let go of you, he steps back a bit.

He looks off to the side, his hand running up the opposite arm. he sighs then looks back at you.

"I already told you why,"

"That's not enough. " You snapped.

"I'm jealous of who you talk to, of who you hang out with, I can't stand it,"

He took a few seconds to compose himself, but once he did he moved back to you.

"How many people have you been with?" He asks, his hand on your neck, you jolted back a bit.

"I-I haven't,"

"Good," he says, removing his hand from your neck, and grabbing on your wrist.

This whole situation was weird, he was acting so strangely, all because he was jealous of who you were with. Your mind was all over the place.

You were dragged out of the room, eyes wandering the hallway, making sure no one was watching. You were then dragged into his room, the door shut behind you, he pushed you up against the door hard. One of his hands on your left shoulder, the other on the door

You couldn't help but feel anxious, your eyes stared into each others. He wasn't really scaring you, but he was still being unnerving.

"How long have you been like this?" You ask curiously.

"For a while," he says, his face moving closer to yours, his hand moving back to your face, cupping it roughly, his thumb outlining your lips.

You bit your lip, waiting for him to do something.

"Dammit," he says, watching you as you bit your lip.

"Does that mean you...?" You started.

He sighed, your face pulled further into his.

"Do I have to spell it out? Yes, I'm in love with you, (Y/N). I love you so fucking much that it hurts,"

"Aguero, I..."

"Stop, I don't need to hear anything else from you yet,"

His mouth roughly pushed against yours again, this time you were aware of what he was going to do, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He was surprised, but not too surprised, he was good at getting what he wanted. He just wasn't really used to anything like affection or love, so this was something new to him, something he had never really experienced.

But did you love him? That was something he didn't want to hear yet, you didn't push him away or try to hit him, so you must feel some way for him.

His body pushed yours against the door more, trapping you. His legs moved between yours, he lifted your ass up, your legs wrap around his waist.

Your arms were moved away from his neck, his hands on the hem of your top, lifting it up a little before looking you in your eyes again. You show him a soft smile, and he continued, lifting up and over your head.

His mouth pushed back onto yours, your hands at his shirt, undoing the buttons of it. You got four or five buttons down before he let go of your mouth and took over, just pulling it off over his head and tossing it somewhere.

Again, his lips attacked yours. Now that his shirt was gone, your hands had nothing to cling to, so you press your hands on his shoulder blades.

His hands ran up your arm as he kissed you, his tongue poking in your mouth, you scratch his back with your nail, causing him to hiss. He was annoyed with you. His hands reached the strap of your bra, pulling them down before going to the cup and tugging it down, exposing your chest.

Your mouths were still connected, the cold air hit your nipples and you gasp, allowing his tongue access to your mouth.

His tongue fought with yours, he was forceful but not too forceful, you tried to win the fight, but ultimately he won, your tongues dancing around each other's mouths.

His fingers traced the skin on your stomach, around your sides, then onto you back, finding the clasp for your bra and undoing it, letting it fall to the floor.

You pushed him away, your face turned away from his as you realize that your top half was now exposed to him.

"Khun," you cry out, embarrassed and confused.

He didn't listen, his mouth placed rough kisses on your cheek and downward until he reached your chest.

"Stop," you moan, gripping his hair, undoing the tie that held his hair up.

He continued placing kisses on your breasts and around your nipple, then gently tugged on it with his teeth. You arched your back up, your nails digging into his scalp.

"Fuck, mmm," you moan out.

He took your whole nipple into his mouth. You clung tighter onto him, pulling him closer to you.

You were pretty vocal, but not too loud, he was loving the sounds you were making.

He let go of you and let you go, your feet hitting the floor.

You were then dragged from the door to the end of his bed.

Your eyes were on his face, he looked so damn serious and handsome.

His hands then went on your waist, turning you around and shoving you harshly against the bed.

Your stomach was flat on the bed, your legs dangling off the edge. You had to admit that you were worried, this was Khun you were with so you could guarantee that wasn't going to be sweet and loving. It made you a little bit scared.

You felt the rest of your clothes come off you until you were naked, embarrassment kicked in again and you tried to turn yourself around.

A hand was placed on your back, stopping you from doing anything. Your body began to shake a bit from both worry and anticipation.

You could hear Khun take the rest of his clothes off, you daren't look over at him, this was your first time and it felt more than a little weird. You wanted your first time to be the opposite of what was happening, so you really couldn't help but feel like this.

"Khun, please," you cry out as you feel his hand return to your skin.

"I'm listening," he says, in that teasing tone again.

His chest was on your back, you could feel his length against your ass. One hand snaked its way around your collarbone and latched onto your neck.

"I'm a virgin," your voice was shaky.

He just chuckled slightly as he pushed himself inside you, he hadn't wasted any time. You thought he would've taken his time, and eased himself inside you but he didn't. It felt like your insides were burning.

The hand on your neck was only cupping it, not holding tightly onto it. His eyes watched your face, your eyes still closed, tears threatening to pour from them.

He was staying still, waiting for you to get used to him inside you, waiting for you to tell him that you were okay and that it was safe to move. It did make him feel a little bad once he noticed the tears flowing from your eyes.

It took a while for the burning sensation to ease, and for your mind to realize that it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, for now anyway. You knew he was going to be rough with you and that's why you were hesitating on telling him anything.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his mouth close to your ear, his thumb rubbed under your chin.

You breathed in and out heavily before replying, "Yes, but please don't be too rough on me,"

You heard him chuckle again. Your eyes opened as he moved out of you, slowly at first, then back into you.

It still felt weird, the burning feeling was still there, but it was just about bearable for you.

His free hand reached fo your own, tangling your fingers together.

You tried to hold back on your moans, but it was' really possible as he continued moving in and out of you, gaining speed and pace on you.

"Mmm, fuck," you moan out quietly.

His hand on your neck squeezed your neck, stopping you from breathing properly.

You could hear his hisses and groans, he was clearly enjoying himself.

"Is this what being jealous has done to you?" You moan out, turning your head to look at him. His eyes were clouded.

"Don't play dumb," he says, breathing onto your ear, "of course if it,"

His speed picked up, you nearly screamed as he became a lot rougher on you.

"Dammit Aguero," you whined, trying to bury your face in the bed.

You felt something inside you, a weird feeling that you knew was your orgasm, you became more vocal as you felt it build up.

"Mmm, fuck, I'm close," you cried.

He gave you a quick peck on your head, then lifted his chest up of your back, his speed and pace picked up again.

Your walls tightened around him as you came on him, your vision blurry from his grip on your neck.

"Fuck," he groans as he releases inside you.

His hands release you, and you were expecting him to tell you to get dressed again and leave, you stayed still, and waiting for him to do something.

You were them turned around again, his hand went back to your neck, cupping it before moving it down your skin, from your neck to your breast and groping it.

"I love you too, Aguero," you confess.

"Huh?" was the only reply he could give.

"You interrupted me before,"

He was surprised, his eyes widened slightly. It wasn't something he was expecting from you.

"Do you really mean that?" He asks.

"Yes,"

His mouth crashes on yours, your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you again.

This time there was a lot more passion, the two of you had confessed and it made the air around you a lot more clearer.

Your legs wrapped around him, his hand guided his length inside you again. You moan out as his dick rubs on your walls.

His pace was just like before, rough and fast.

Your mouths were still connected, your tongues swirling around in your mouths. It felt a lot more loving now, maybe it was because you felt like you were closer now than you were before, and the fact that you told him that you loved him. Which made you feel a whole lot better within yourself.

You were hoping that this was the kind of release that Khun needed and that maybe his attitude would change after admitting to you.

You couldn't understand why he'd feel the need to be jealous, you talk to guys every day, and it's not like you had any intention of ever being with one of them.

But you couldn't really blame him if his feelings had been bottled up for this long.

You felt your release coming again, that familiar feeling building up inside you. Your fingers were in his hair, nails leaving scratches on his neck and scalp.

"Shit," he cried as you did so, your walls tightening around him as you came, quietly mumbling his name.

Your grip on him loosened, and you let him go, your hands falling to the bed below you. His length pulled out of you.

Your faces were red and flustered, you wanted to avoid any eye contact with him.

He chuckles again, "Why are you looking away from me?" He asks coyly.

"I'm just, having a hard time looking at you,"

"And why would that be?"

You breathed in and out heavily, "Because of what we just did,"

"You're not embarrassed, are you?"

"Yes, I am," your arms cover your eyes.

He found you pretty damn adorable, the fact that you were embarrassed, how red you were.

"Don't be silly," he says, moving your hands and arms away. His hands pin yours to the bed. His mouth kisses up from your bellybutton to you mouth, "you're amazing and I love you,"

"I love you too,"

You smiled at each other.

It felt nice, to have a moment like that. You had never seen him smile like that, and that was one thing you never thought you'd see like he had found someone who would really love him and give him the attention and affection that he needed.

Hopefully, his shitty attitude would improve a little, all you could do was to hope that it had.

[chilling-seavey]

hii! would you maybe be able to do one where florence, penelope and lucy are out of town or state for a few days for some sort of activity (or other, i can only think of some kind of sport thing but if you have any other ideas then i encourage you to use those haha) and daniel and clementine stayed home together and got some nice quality time together for a few days?

This one turned out even sweeter than I had imagined it in my head 🥰 Thank you for this!!

Saturday, May 10, 2031

The only thing that sucked about Daniel’s job was that sometimes he couldn’t take certain days off. That came with any job in a way, but he hated that sometimes he had to miss out on the girls’ out-of-school activities due to a meeting or a project. It cut it close one weekend in May when Lucy had a dance recital out of town but in order to get there on time, they had to leave on the Friday and Daniel couldn’t work it around this meeting. So Florence took Lucy and Penelope on a bit of a girls trip and Clementine – who had a test on that Friday too – was stuck at home as well.

The apartment was quiet on Saturday morning and Daniel gladly took the silence as a moment to sleep in. Twelve-year-old Clementine seemed to do the same. But by 9:00 she was up and rushing to wake him up too, climbing into the half empty king size bed and nudged his shoulder.

“Daddy.” she shook him some more. “Dad.”

Daniel sighed tiredly as he awoke and rolled onto his back to blink up at her, “Morning, angel.”

“What are we going to do today?” Clementine asked sweetly.

“I dunno. I just woke up.” Daniel yawned, rubbing his face with his hand to try and feel semi-conscious.

“Can we go play basketball at the Y?”

“Sure we can.”

“Awesome! I’ll go get dressed.” Clementine beamed and jumped right back off the bed and took off down the hallway.

Daniel took his time getting out of bed and he shuffled into the ensuite to get ready, a shower being the only thing to actually wake him up after such a good sleep. Clementine was waiting for him in the dining room when he finally emerged from his room, both of them dressed in their sporting gear, and Clementine slid over a second bowl of cereal to him and the carton of milk.

They ate quietly together before they finally were ready to head out. Since Florence had taken the car, Daniel and Clementine were stuck relying on the subway but Clementine always loved taking the subway. She had her backpack set on her lap as she stared at the dark underground passing by the window and Daniel watched her quietly, reaching up to twirl the end of her ponytail around his finger. She turned to look at him and they shared sweet smiles.

The YMCA wasn’t too busy for late morning on a Saturday and Daniel paid at the desk and they headed into the gym. Clementine nearly threw her backpack to the side as she ran over to the rack of basketballs and got to work choosing the perfect one. Daniel picked up her backpack and put it on the side bench along with his wallet and phone – but not before stopping to reply to his wife’s sweet good morning text that came with a picture of Lucy in her costume.

“Think fast!” Clementine shouted, her voice echoing through the gym as she threw the ball at him.

Daniel could only turn just in time for it to hit his thigh. Clementine giggled and rushed after the ball to retrieve it.

“If your playing is anything like your catching, you aren’t going to do well.” she teased.

“I was texting your mother.” Daniel retorted, tossing his phone on the bench before heading to join her in the middle of the gym.

“I’m kind of glad I don’t have to sit through a six-year-old’s dance recital this weekend.” Clementine said, bouncing the ball slowly under her hand as Daniel walked after her.

He tried to lunge for it, but she turned and tossed it right up and into the hoop. Perfect shot.

Clementine ran after it and did a strong bounce pass back to him. Daniel dribbled it around a little, between his legs and in a spin, and then shot. And missed.

“Dammit. I haven’t practiced in too long.” Daniel grumbled.

“Or you’re just bad.” Clementine retorted as she retrieved the ball.

“I used to be great, thank you.” Daniel tisked.

“Great? When? Your past life?” Clementine smirked, running circles around him.

Daniel reached out and smacked the ball out of her hand and took off with it, shooting a perfect layup. He did a little dance move and Clementine laughed at him.

“One-on-one then, Daddy?” she asked as she grabbed the ball again.

“First to 25?” he agreed, meeting her in the centre of the half-court.

“Easy.” Clementine boasted, dribbling the ball slowly between them, both of them bent forward on their toes. She spun around him suddenly and took off down the court, earning her first two-pointer of their game with ease.

Daniel fought back generally well but Clementine still won with 26-18.

They took a break on the bench with bottles of water and Daniel helped re-pin his daughter’s hair that had nearly fallen apart during their game. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they had their water and a moment to catch their breaths.

Another dad with his son came in a few moments later, the son not more than a year older than than Clementine, and they headed across the gym to grab their own ball.

“Ugh, I hate having to share.” Clementine grumbled, making Daniel laugh lightly.

“Come on. We’ll each take a side.” Daniel said as he stood up and set his water bottle down on the bench.

The dads greeted each other casually and Clementine frowned as the new arrivals seemed to eye her a moment. She shifted the ball to rest on her hip under her arm.

“Surprised you brought your daughter to watch you play.” The man chuckled.

Daniel frowned, “Watch me?”

“Don’t tell me you let your daughter play sports.”

“Why the hell not?” Daniel asked sharply, setting a protective hand on Clementine’s back. “If she’s good at it then who am I to stop her?”

Clementine took a step closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her to keep her close. She glared up at the man.

“I would be interested in seeing what you think is considered ‘good’ then.”

“You up for that, Clem?” Daniel asked her.

She looked up at him and nodded, “Of course, Daddy.”

The man chuckled under his breath.

Daniel shared a quick kiss with his daughter before giving her shoulder a squeeze, “Show ‘em what you got, angel.”

The two fathers left their children in the middle of the half court as they stood to the side and watched on. It was safe to say Clementine creamed the other kid, finishing off their game to 25 with a hard chest pass that literally knocked the air out of the thirteen-year-old boy she was facing.

“Good game!” she grinned sweetly and then went skipping over to Daniel who was stood, smirking, next to the flabbergasted man. “Next time we should bring Lucy. My six-year-old sister would be more of a challenge.”

Daniel only beamed with pride at his eldest and led her off to collect their things from the bench, politely wishing the man a good day as they walked off. Daniel and Clementine shared a small high five as they gathered their things and headed for the door.

“That was badass, Clementine Ophelia.” Daniel grinned as she slid her hand into his on their way back to the subway.

“Who says girls can shoot?” Clementine huffed, turning her nose in the air with a smile.

“Certainly not me.” Daniel chuckled.

“Maybe I should learn to actually shoot!” Clementine gasped and turned to him.

“Okay, that is where I draw the line.” Daniel said quickly.

“Just had to try.” Clementine giggled.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at home watching TV, both of them in their comfiest loungewear in the living room with their feet kicked up on the coffee table. When dinner came around, they ordered pizza and a whole bunch of junk food and made a whole picnic on the living room rug with blanket and pillows and their feast. They watched two movies – one that was PG-13 and Daniel swore her to not tell your mother but you’re close enough to 13 – and with the pizza long gone and the snacks most devoured too, they leaned back together against the couch. Daniel draped his arm around her and Clementine cuddled against him, her favourite blanket tucked up around them.

Clementine was watching the movie intently, munching haphazardly on a gummy worm, and Daniel glanced down at her, how her light eyes reflected the screen of the tv and the warmth of her soft skin that radiated through her sweater and track pants. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” he whispered.

Clementine looked up at him, “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“I’m just eating a gummy worm.” she pulled it apart with her teeth, “That doesn’t take much skill.”

Daniel laughed lightly, “I mean in general. Watching you grow up. All the things you can do and do well. I’m just proud of you.”

“Okay.” Clementine smiled lightly, taking another bite of her gummy worm. She turned to cuddle back into his side and Daniel rested his cheek against her head. They continued watching the movie for a bit longer until Clementine spoke, “I like when it’s just us.”

Daniel smiled a little, “Why’s that?”

“I dunno. I like having you to myself. You were mine first.” Clementine slug her arm across his middle to hug him tightly.

“I know…and you were mine first too.” Daniel whispered, petting his hand through her hair. “But I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”

“Promise?” Clementine whispered.

“Cross my heart, hope to die.” Daniel mumbled against her head, pressing a kiss to the same spot.

Clementine only smiled and turned back to the movie, wrapped up in her father’s arms. Her favourite place to be.

[imaginingsoftly]

4 Times He Went to Her + 1 Time She Went to Him - Ryan Murray

Type: friends to lovers, 4 +1, angsty-ish

Requested: No

Warnings: none

A/N: A little 4+1 for Ryan Murray (just in time for his birthday!)

(1) 16 years old

“Ry!” Jamie’s parents laughed as she went flying out of the house, sprinting across the front lawn and into her best friend’s arms. Ryan caught her with a small chuckle, and his arms wrapped around her back securely. 

He had been gone for months, playing in the WHL, and it felt like this day would never come. “Hey, trouble.” His voice had gotten deeper in the months since Jamie had last seen him, and phone calls didn’t do the change justice. He sounded older than his 17 years. 

After a hug that lasted longer than necessary, even for the two of them, Ryan gently untangled her limbs from around his neck and waist. Jamie’s parents had come out of the house at some point, and they took their turns hugging him. Growing up next door to each other they’d naturally become close friends, and Jamie knew at some point her parents had become like another set of parents for him, much like the Murrays were for her. 

It took almost an hour before they could get away from Jamie’s parents, after they’d invited Ryan inside for dinner, but finally they were in the passenger seat of his truck tearing down side roads with the windows rolled down. “I missed you, Jame.” Ryan’s hand reached over the center console to squeeze hers gently. “I wish you could come to Everett. We could take a day trip down to Seattle.” 

Jamie smiled. Seattle was at the top of her bucket list of places to visit, and Ryan knew it. Farmers markets and eclectic coffee shops were two of her favorite things, two things which Seattle had in abundance. 

Their conversation moved on to other things, like what home had been like while he was gone and which one of his teammates had the best chance at the draft that year. Conversation was easy between them, rarely lapsing despite the fact that they’d talked for hours on the phone the night before. He wasn’t going to be home long, just a few weeks and he was off to some camp with a bunch of other top prospects, so she tried to settle in and enjoy the time they did have together. 

“You’ve gotta promise to come to at least one game every year for me, especially when I make it to the NHL.” Ryan glanced over at Jamie as he stopped the truck at a red light, and she nodded in agreeance.

“Obviously. Someone has to make sure your head doesn’t get too big.”

(2) 17 years old

Jamie smiled as she set up the last of the decorations for Ryan’s party. Him and his family were on their way home from PIttsburgh, and she’d been texting his mom all day to make sure that everyone was ready by the time they got back. Ryan would probably kill her for setting up a surprise party for him, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to celebrate her best friend getting drafted 2nd overall. 

It was a small party, anyway, Jamie and her parents plus a couple of Ryan’s friends and the rest of his extended family. A text came from Ryan’s mom to let her know they were coming up the street, and she turned off all the lights and shushed everyone. Doors slammed outside, and Jamie stifled a giggle. 

“SURPRISE!!!” Ryan jumped back as everyone jumped up from their hiding places, and Jamie laughed at the look on his face when he registered what was happening. “Just second, buddy?” Ryan rolled his eyes at her joke, hauling her against his chest for a hug. 

“You did this, I’m assuming?” She nodded into his neck, and Ryan kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, trouble.” 

Jamie squeezed a little tighter, trying not to think about how far away he was going to be that fall. “Love you, Ry. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Love you too, Jame.” 

(3) 21 years old

Jamie’s college roommate laughed when she leaped at her phone as a text came through. “You sure you’re not dating this guy, Jamie?” Kelli laughed when she said it, but Jamie still felt a sliver of pain at her words. They weren’t true, but damn if she didn’t wish they were. Kelli must have seen a bit of pain flash across Jamie’s face, because she touched her arm gently. “Hey. Are you okay?” Jamie swallowed, nodding slowly. She would be. It wasn’t like she was the first person to have a massive crush on her best friend.

“I’m good. He just wanted to know if I can still meet him for lunch. They landed in Montreal today, they play the Habs tomorrow.” Kelli nodded, still not entirely convinced she was telling the truth. “Speaking of,” Jamie said as she tried to change the subject, “Ryan invited me to the game tomorrow. You coming with? He said he’d save a ticket for you.” That would do it. Her roommate, a French national who watched her first hockey game ever when Jamie had dragged her to a game their Freshman year, loved hockey. 

An hour later Jamie was walking the streets in old Montreal, heading for an old cafe she began frequenting early in her Freshman year. Ryan and a few of his teammates were waiting for her, and Ryan’s face lit up when one of his teammates pointed in her direction. 

The pair collided with a small “oof”, and Jamie giggled as Ryan pulled her tightly against him. “Hey,” he breathed. His teammates were laughing in the background, chirping Ryan mercilessly, but he ignored them. She grinned into his chest as he squeezed her even tighter. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Ry.” Jamie breathed in the smell of his laundry detergent and cologne, a smell she hadn’t ever really appreciated on any men except for Ryan. It was comforting in a way that nothing else ever had been for her. 

For all their laughter when Jamie first appeared, the guys were happy to see her. Nick and David both hugged her tightly, and the former showed her photos of his daughter. Ryan watched her interact with his teammates with a smile on his face, and his grin widened when Jamie met his eyes. An unspoken staring contest began, and Jamie won like always. 

“So how’s your senior year at McGill treating you, JR?” David’s voice, softly accented, reminded her there were other people at the table. Of all Ryan’s teammates, David and Nick were her two favorites. They were both like older brothers, and questions like that one made them feel like the siblings she didn’t have. 

“It’s going well! There’s a firm back home that’s already interested in hiring me as a financial consultant, so I think I’m pretty set!” Nick patted her on the back, offering up congratulations, while a couple of the younger guys chirped at Ryan for having a friend that was so much smarter than him. 

Jamie smiled as she looked around the table, noting how Ryan interacted with each of them. She had gotten quiet while she did, and Ryan mouthed a silent “you okay?” at her. She nodded, and he grinned at her again. Just seeing him smile had her melting, and Jamie again recognized just how screwed she was. 

(4) 25 years old

Jamie sat silently in the passenger’s side of Ryan’s truck, much like she had for ten years now. The two of them had fought before, sure, but this one felt different. “I really wanted you there, Jamie. You’ve been there for every other part of my life, and I wanted you there to see us win the series.” 

He sounded hurt, and it was almost too much to handle. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there for him, much like she had been for most of his milestones; he was right about that. It was the fact that he’d been talking about a girl for months now, and she didn’t know if she could handle seeing him with someone else. “I had to work, Ry, I told you that.”

“No you didn’t!” Jamie flinched when he yelled. Ryan never raised his voice at her, unless he was trying to get her attention from across a busy arena. “I talked to your mom. She said you never tried to get the time off, that you kept making excuses!” Damn her. Her mother had gotten pushy about her feelings for Ryan, tired of her daughter dancing around them in favor of security. 

Ryan pulled onto a dirt road, one Jamie knew led to a small beach at the reservoir. “You don’t talk to me anymore.” His words were quiet, but Jamie heard them anyway. They cut deeper than anything else he could have said. He was right. They didn’t talk anymore, not really. Sure, they had phone conversations almost every week and she made the flight out to Columbus to see a game every year with his parents like she’d promised to years before, but they didn’t talk just for the sake of talking anymore. 

Part of it was her fault, Jamie knew that. It was hard to talk to Ryan without shouting out her feelings, so she held back. She didn’t call him as much. Then he started dating that girl, Eliza, and he stopped initiating the conversations. Eventually, that weekly talk turned into a stilted conversation that lasted ten minutes at most. Recently, they’d stopped altogether. 

Jamie turned her head to look out the window when Ryan looked over at her. She felt his hand twitch, like he was about to reach for her, but then he stopped. “I can’t do this right now, Ryan.” Shit. She hadn’t used his full name in years, and that in itself told her enough about how much things had changed. 

“So this is it, then? Twenty years of friendship gone just like that?” Ryan’s words were soft, but they hurt more than shouting ever could. He sounded broken. Jamie didn’t respond, because really there was nothing to say. Ryan had Eliza, and dammit she wasn’t going to be that person. She wouldn’t throw her heart out there when Ryan had finally found someone. “Will you at least look at me?” 

He sighed heavily when she didn’t, throwing the truck into reverse with a little more force than necessary. The drive back to her apartment felt like it took forever, and the silence that settled in the cab of the truck was different from their usual silence. Ryan pulled into the parking lot of her building and slammed into a parking space, putting a hand on Jamie’s arm before she got out. “Look at me and tell me that this is what you want.” 

Silent tears dripped from Jamie’s cheeks when she finally looked over, and Ryan’s face dropped in devastation. “Jame,” he began, reaching for her across the console, but she jerked back. The last thing she needed was for him to touch her. Her resolve had crumbled enough already at the hurt in his voice.

The cab suddenly felt too small, and she fumbled for the door handle. “Jamie!” Ryan swore as she jumped out of the truck, quickly turning it off and jumping out of his seat, but she was gone. He chased Jamie to her door, banging on it for almost ten minutes after she slammed it in his face.

Jamie slid down the inside of the door, sobs wracking her body as Ryan begged her to talk to him. “Jame, please.” Ryan’s voice reached her from the other side of the door, and she did her best not to listen even as her legs wouldn’t let her walk away. “Jamie, I need you to open the door. Talk to me. Tell me what the hell is going on.” He stopped talking, like he was waiting for her to open the door. A thud sounded near her back, like Ryan had kicked the door, and Jamie jumped. “Dammit, Jamie, don’t throw twenty years away and not tell me why!” 

She could feel his presence outside the door even after he stopped knocking, but eventually he walked away. Her heart shattered all over again when she realized that this time his leaving was for good. 

(+1) 25 years old

Ryan’s mother had appeared at her door out of the blue hours before, not even giving Jamie a chance to speak before she turned on her mom voice. “I don’t know what happened between you two, and frankly I don’t care. He’s hurting without you, Jamie Rowland, and you will fix this.” 

Jamie gaped at the woman as she pushed her way past Jamie and into the apartment. “Tell me what happened. Did my son do something wrong? He doesn’t seem to understand why you won’t talk to him anymore.” The older woman softened, laying a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart. I may be Ryan’s mother, but you might as well be my daughter.” 

She was right. Everything Jamie had been afraid to tell her own mother, big or small, she told Momma Murray. They had a bond outside of her being the mother of Jamie’s best friend, so it was probably time she told her the truth. Jamie gestured for the couch, and they sat down side-by-side. “I’ve been in love with your son for years.” 

Out of all the reactions Jamie could have expected, laughter was not one of them. Ryan’s mother chuckled to herself for almost an entire minute while Jamie sat there in confusion. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said in between chuckles, “I’ve known you two were in love with each other since you were ten.” Jamie jerked back, and the other woman reached out to touch her arm. “You two have been circling around each other for years, Jamie, and I’m honestly shocked it’s taken you two so long to get together.”

Jamie began to shake her head. “No. Ryan doesn’t think of me like that. He has Eliza.” 

“No, honey, he doesn’t.” Jamie looked into Mrs. Murray’s eyes, disbelieving. “He was with Eliza while he waited for you. I yelled at him for it. It’s cruel to string that other girl along when it’s always been you.” Jamie smiled slightly. His mother had always been a bit too much of a meddler for her own good. “You have the weekend off, I checked with your mother. There’s a flight to Columbus that leaves in two hours. I have a ticket in your name waiting at the airport.” She didn’t. Jamie’s stomach dropped. “It’s time for you two to make up, Jamie. I don’t want to watch you two be miserable without each other anymore. Go get him back.”

As much as Jamie wanted to strangle the other woman, she was right. But shit, two hours wasn’t a lot of time to get packed and head to the airport. Jamie jumped to her feet, and Mrs. Murray followed her with a chuckle. “I’ve gotta pack, and find a ride to the airport, and,” the other woman cut in before Jamie could continue panicking. “I’m driving you sweetie, so don’t worry about that.” 

She was thankful to have a maternal presence with her as she packed to leave, and the gentle kiss Mrs. Murray laid on her forehead as she dropped her off helped to calm her nerves significantly. 

The flight to Columbus was a little too spontaneous for Jamie, but she needed to go. She didn’t really have a plan now that she was here. Talk to Ryan, obviously, but that was easier said than done. 

Right now, the plan was either to suck it up and head straight to Ryan’s or find somewhere to collect herself first. The choice was made for her when a familiar voice called out to her from the baggage claim. Nick, and what looked like his entire brood of children. “Hey JR,” the Jackets captain called out as she got closer. “Murr’s mom got a hold of me. She said you might need someone to drag you to Murr’s.” 

Damn the woman, but she was right. The kids swarmed around Jamie, hugging every available limb and screaming “JR!” . Nick laughed at the look on Jamie’s face even as he pulled her away from the kids and in for a tight hug. Nick had become a lot like an older brother for her over the years, and she appreciated that he was there for her today. “I’m assuming she told you why?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “But I figured it out. It isn’t hard to see that the two of you have been dancing around each other for longer than I’ve known you both.” They moved together as a large clump of humanity into the parking lot, and Jamie helped him get the kids settled into their carseats. “He misses you a ton, JR. Trust me, he’ll be happy to see you.” 

The ride to Ryan’s was anything but quiet, though Nick mostly left Jamie to her own thoughts. Nick reached out and patted her arm as Ryan’s apartment building came into view, and Jamie smiled over at him gratefully. “Go get him, kiddo.” The kids yelled good luck from the back seat, though none of them seemed to actually understand why they were wishing her luck. 

Jamie took a deep breath once she reached Ryan’s door, knocking gently before she could lose her nerve. Nick said he was home, but what if he’d gone out? What then? Just as she began to spiral into a panic, Ryan opened the door, and Jamie almost broke down in tears at the sight of his face. He looked confused, but he still stepped aside when she asked to come in. 

She barely had time to put her stuff down inside before Ryan was pulling her in close. He shoved his face into her hair, breathing in deeply. For the first time in almost two months, she felt totally calm despite the conversation they were about to have. Jamie burrowed deeper into Ryan’s chest, and he pulled her in tighter without hesitation. “I’m sorry, Ry.” Her words broke the moment, and Ryan released Jamie just as quickly as he grabbed her. 

“I love you.” Jamie’s eyes widened when she realized what she’d said. “Shit. That came out really wrong. I uh,” 

Ryan’s voice cut her off. “You love me. Sure didn’t seem like it when you ran away a couple of months ago.” Jamie bowed her head. Any doubt she’d had about if he was still angry disappeared at the tone of his voice. He was still very angry. 

“I’ve uh, I’ve loved you for a really long time.” Jamie breathed out a laugh. “Probably close to ten years, actually. I was just so damn scared, Ryan.” He stood frozen, staring at her face like he didn’t believe a word of what she was saying. “It got harder and harder to ignore how I was feeling, and then I finally got to the point that I felt like I could tell you and I found out you were dating Eliza.” 

She started pacing, looking anywhere but at Ryan. “I was so damn hurt, Ry. I knew I had no claim over you, and yet the thought of you with anyone else felt so wrong.” Jamie paused in front of his living room window, staring out at the city. “I know I should have told you. I just didn’t want to put you in an unfair position when you were still dating Eliza.” 

There it was. Everything was out in the open. She suddenly felt far too raw and exposed, a new feeling when it came to Ryan. Jamie opened her mouth to say more, but suddenly hands came around her waist. “You love me?” Ryan rested his head on her shoulder, and Jamie could feel his eyes on her face. She nodded slowly, and he spun her around. “I love you too.” He looked nervous, even after her declaration. 

Jamie put her hands on either side of Ryan’s face. “Kiss me, Ry.”